Tag Archives: Snow

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!

T

 

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Filed under Childhood, Uncategorized

This and That and Jonah Days…

I’m feeling less than inspired to think of putting sentences together in an orderly fashion tonight… and there are zero coherent thoughts running through my brain right about now… unless you count the one about Mary’s little lamb joining the shearing club whilst carrying a machine gun.  That’s a normal day in my neighborhood.

If you follow me on Facebook, you can ignore this paragraph since I’ve already waxed something other than poetic about this particular topic.  Saturday the world learned that we lost Jonathan Crombie, aka Gilbert Blythe.  He was only 48.  As Anne would say, It was such a Jonah day!  This generation has Edward and Bella (or whatever their names are… I haven’t actually seen or read the Twilight books… shoot me).  My generation had Anne and Gilbert… a love story for the ages.  I’ve been a huge Anne of Green Gables fan since the age of 5 when my mom read me the abridged version of the first book.  It was love at first listen.  A few years later I watched the made-for-television movies and the characters I had grown to love in the books were brought to life, and I now had a face to put to each character.  Jonathan Crombie played Gilbert Blythe beautifully and a crush was born at the age of 7.  He portrayed the ideal man, and a throng-full of pre-teen/teen brace-wearers swooned into their Cheerios at the thought of him… or at least the character he played.  Rest in peace, Jonathan, my first movie boyfriend.

****

In other news… on Wednesday we got a foot of snow.  This winter has been mild.  We started out promising in December/early January but then the clouds dried up and we had very few snowstorms.  In an attempt to make up for the drought, came this lil’ gift on tax day… I told you no good comes from tax day!

But thank you for the water reserves!

***

Four Seasons Theatre Company put out some of their Mary Poppins advertising.  FYI:  If you were wondering who the perfect person to play Mary Poppins was, look no further… Sarah Huff won… She was born to play the part and you pretty much don’t want to miss her!  She even looks like Mary… see below.  I got to watch a very rough draft of most of the first act on Saturday whilst waiting for my scene’s turn… it was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Clickety Clack on over to like their Facebook page:  Four Seasons Theatre Company

Meanwhile… if anyone can give me a case of Jack Daniels I might be able to loosen the helium balloons up in the acting department.  I’m too self-conscious, but I do a great impression of a stiff, board-like boulder.  Any tips on how to get out of one’s head and become one with the character?

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Filed under Life

Snow-Klutzing…

I’ve apparently lost my ever-living mind… or I’m discovering some of the cajones I lost two years ago when I slipped on the ice (yet again) and broke my wrist.  I have the balance ability of a very large abominable snowman perched on top of a knitting needle… catastrophe waiting to happen!  After that whole wrist kerfuffle, I swore I would never ever ever do anything snow/ice related again… that included skiing, ice skating, and snowshoeing… oh snowshoeing.  The ironic part of this whole thing is that I got snowshoes for Christmas exactly three years ago… the year before the wrist kerfuffle.  That year happened to be a crappy year for snow fallage, so I did not get out to try them.  The 2 years after I had a broken wrist and then had sworn off snow sports… you know me… daredevil Luigi and her magic wimp brain.

Imagine my delight when the opportunity to snowshoe presented itself to me the day after Christmas.  Oh, you kid… but I don’t!  I put on my dread brain before I went… you know the brain… the one who thinks up every catastrophic event that could possibly take place and then tries to figure a way to get out of it?  I had everything going… the one where I fell in the middle of the wilderness with a broken ankle.  I’d decided I’d use my zipper to reflect the light of the sun onto the snow in my glove so I could drink the water… and then try to murder a snow hare for supper… before or after I’d died of hypothermia I hadn’t really gotten to yet.  There was the one where I dropped the car keys that were in my coat pocket in the snow and then couldn’t find them so had to build an igloo using prairie grass… again, the hypothermia solution didn’t quite come to fruition.  I don’t do snow sports, so I had nothing warm to wear… no long-legged underroos or snow pants or tall socks… so I wore what I wear everyday… one pair of pants and a low-cut sock and crossed my fingers.  Madre, on the other hand had 18 layers and a snowsuit on… she’s much more vertically talented than I am.

Except in this instance… which I did not attempt!

I gotta say.  Wearing snowshoes is like wearing a big ole clown shoe and then remembering that your feet are bigger than what your head thinks they are.  My head was all like… size 10 feet… but my snowshoes were all like… size 8000000000.  It’s a weird sensation when you aren’t used to it.  When I’d finally taken the things off, I felt like they’d taken off the shackles that I’d worn as an imaginary character in Les Miserables.  I was free… FREE at last!

It was at this point that I was sure I’d be accosted by every character from Into The Woods whilst trying to stay upright on my gargantuan bear paws.

I found myself tripping several times… but I did not faceplant this time.  It’s a Christmas Miracle, Wilber!  Not even during the many times where I had to step off the trail into the deeper snow to let a cross country skiiers pass me by.  Of course I moved at the pace of a snail… tripping and hyperventilating all of the way.  Stupid dread brain!  To sum the experience up… I’d do it again.  It’s a great workout.  Hopefully the next time I’ll be able to find the off position on my dread brain so I can enjoy it more.  It’s broken, I tell you!

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!  What didja’ get?

PS – Does anyone have any recommendations for fairly clean television series that I could streamline before school starts again and withers my brain into oblivion?  Preferrably shows that can be watched online via Amazon Prime, Hulu, or Netflix?  I’m not into the nighttime soaps, so Grey’s Anatomy-type shoes are a thumbs down… but I’m open to other interesting ones!

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Filed under Christmas, Family

Mishing and Mashing…

Random blog post alert.  Alert the church elders!  My thoughts seem to be like a big ole pile of scrambled eggs right now, so trying to stick to one topic is going to be mighty trying… oh look, a door.   This will be like running through a mish mash of Madre’s closet mixed with Lindsay’s 6 closets.  A fashionista/muumuu-wearer’s dream come true!

This past Tuesday I had a day off from work on account of the fact that I worked Memorial Day weekend.  What to do on a day off?  The smart answer would have been homework… but sometimes a girl doesn’t use the smart part of her brain, so instead I decided to drive the 45 minutes up to my happy place, Tony Grove.  It was the end of May… surely the snow will have been melted enough to drive up into the lake portion.  Not really… it was looking good at the lower elevations but about 2 miles from the actual lake, I had to turn around on account of the fact that there was a foot or two of snow blocking the road.  Apparently, the sun wasn’t doing its job fast enough.

What do I pay you for?  Sunburns and drought?  Get on with it!  The above picture was about a mile before the snow started blocking the roadway.  Instead I just drove around random lanes and got out and walked when I couldn’t drive further.

Met up with one of my favorite meeses… pretty sure this one is Beelzebub.  Drove over to the Bear Lake lookout where there was a band of bikers relieving themselves in the weeds…  Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean the world is your “R” receptacle!

No pictures of that… moving on… moving on…

I’ll give the sun one more month to get with it… then I’m going back.  Do not disappoint me, sun!

In other news…  I know it’s spring when Madre adds to her criminal history.  I got this picture as proof for the trial.

At the bank… after hours, loading up on lilacs with a pair of pruning shears.  The SHAME!!  THE SHAME!  I was not an accomplice.  I was unwittingly brought to this location with the information that I was going to the grocery store… nothing else.

In less incriminating news… we had our annual backyard-ditch-bank-search-for-the-baby-ducklet outing with my pals, Makayla and her foreign exchange friend, Juanito Bandito, Jr.

Psyche!  That would be Corbin’s evil twin.  We did see some cute duckies, but apparently they weren’t in the mood to pose for any pictures… aka I didn’t get any.

Finally… to the dude sitting in front of me at the USU computer lab yesterday whilst I was trying to take a proctored exam, I am going to blame my less-than-stellar score on the fact that I sat there for 45 minutes whilst you wiped snot particles all over your hands every 3 seconds and then proceeded to use the mouse and keyboard like it was a snottified petri dish!  How’s a girl with 5 billion issues supposed to concentrate after that display of nastiness?  I rest my case!

 

 

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Filed under Family, Life, School

It’s The Most Psychotic Time Of The Year…

It’s the most psychotic time of the year
With the raining and snowing and psychos are telling you
Just drink a beer
It’s the most psychotic time of the year.

It’s the craz-craziest season of all
With those golf ball-sized hailstorms and 80s with sunshine
It makes me appalled!
It’s the craz-craziest season of all  

There’ll be tornado windstorms 
and ducklings in good form
And freezing your garden galore
There’ll be jackets and parkas 
And nekked bikinis
Oh, what do I buy at the store? 

Y’all… for serious… what’s Irving Berlin’s phone number?  I gotta ring him up and have me arrested by the lyric po-leese!  Call me, Irvy!

So, it’s that awkward season between winter and spring that I like to call Sprinter… which basically means you have to have all of your summer clothes AND all of your winter clothes stuffed in the same closet to be prepared for the violent mood swings Mother Nature passes out until at least July.  Good thing for me I have no clothes.  Nude is the new beige.  I apologize for that… I sincerely do.  It was not my intention to paint that disgusting picture in your noggin on this lovely Friday the 13th!  Just don’t walk under a ladder holding a black cat… double whammy.

So, Friday morning, it looked like this:

Then, Monday after that Friday, it looked like this:

And it was in the 70s and  I went on a bike ride in shirt sleeves at 7:00 at night…  Then, came the Wednesday after the Friday after the Monday, and it was like 40 degrees, so I skipped the bike and decided to go for a walk, except the wind started blowing and then the rain started pouring and so I grabbed my umbrella from the trunk of my car and as soon as I  opened the sucker up this huge gust of wind came around and broke the thing.  So, now I’m walking down the street holding an umbrella over my head that looks like a giant upturned cup catching the rain water and doing absolutely NOTHING to keep me dry… and then I’m wrestling with it, trying to get it to close but the wind was more interested in making me look like a dim-WHIT wrestling with a broken umbrella.  I swear to you the city bus driver even stopped his bus in the middle of the road and looked at me asking if I wanted a ride.  Too prideful to look him back in the eye, I just pretended I was catching rain water for the thirsty children in Hawaii, and kept walking.

So, it’s supposed to snow this weekend again.  Sprinter, you’re just like me during friendly hormone hoarding week… except with more violent outbursts!

Question of the Day:  Happy Friday the 13th!!  Are you superstitious?  

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Donuts Are Vegetables Now… Hear Me Out!!!

Dead serious… DEAD!  We fried her up in a vat of VEGETABLE oil, which would totes constitute a vegetable.  Hello… it’s in the dagnabbed name… the oil from a vegetable!!!  Of course, I’m totally joking… just trying to help Congress out after they came out embarrassing themselves whilst swearing up and down that frozen pizza counted as a vegetable due to the tomato paste.  They also consider french fries a vegetable because they’re potatoes.  Heck yes!!!  That just proves all those years of consuming vast amounts of fried frenches and pizza like it was going out of style was the healthiest decision of my frig frammed lifetime!  It’s kind of like saying, you went to the Bahamas and all I got was this T-shirt… except it’s more like, I ate my weight in vegetables and all I got was this prescription for a heart attack.  I’m not saying there’s a thing wrong with eating either of these things… in moderation, but constituting them as a vegetable to kids who don’t know any better!?  PREPOSTEROUS!!   Oh yeah… that was me yelling in all caps… you best believe it’s true.  Let’s call a duck a duck… if it quacks, it’s a duck.  If it doesn’t grow out of the ground… IT AIN’T A VEGETABLE!!!  It’s quite ironic they’re naming it a vegetable because of the tomato paste anyway… especially considering that it’s always been argued whether a tomato is actually a vegetable or a fruit because it has seeds.  I’m crossing my fingers for when they come out that Skittles are actually fruit!  Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease!!!!!!!!

Back to my list:

Plan your food diary a week in advance and try to stick with it. 

I’ve done this before and I aim to do it again, but NEXT WEEK when I have more control over my food and recipes.  Thanksgiving week is a bad time to try to plan around, but I will guarantee you that I will eat my fruit/vegetables when I eat my round piece of pumpkin pie.  JOKES on the round part… not the actual eating of the pumpkiny pie.  This whole holiday season crapola is a tricky thing to master, and I’m not feeling totally confident that it will be mastered since I’ve yet to get a handle on my regularly scheduled eating like a bird mission ever since I got back from vacation.  Stupid vacation… and I’d also like to blame it some on Daylight Savings Time and the fact that it’s now dark by 5:00…   Let’s see… what else can I blame it on… hormoney hoarding, Halloween, my birthday, zit breakouts, the NBA idiots who want more money, Wheel of Fortune, Pat Sajack, Superman, and just because he needs more scandal… Herman Cain.  Pshaw… y’all can see what I’ve had to deal with over the last month or so.

Have a day to eat what you feel like without feeling guilty.

LOL!!  That’s my main problem of late… I have too many of those days.  I seem to do beautifully Monday through Thursday, and then Friday, Saturday, and Sunday roll along and it’s like numbdumb eating all over the Buffet o’ Congress!  I’m ashamed to say I did not get my pizza vegetable in on any weekend.  Pass that Bill and call it Sally!  While I regain focus and work out a plan to master this elusive holiday eating spree, y’all get up your lists for Black Friday… 4 more days… what are you waiting for?  Don’t call me at 5:00 in the morning… I’ll be dreaming about donuts and pizza…

Question of the Day:  Do you ever have a day where you eat anything you want and not feel bad about it? 

My weekend included a lot of this:

Like, over a foot of that when all was said and done.  I swear there were mountains there in the background at one point… they might be lost until July.  Buckle in folks, we be in for a long winter’s nap!  How do I turn into a bear so I can hibernate?

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Filed under The List

Please Tell Me It’s Powdered Sugar… I’m Begging You!

Here I am, friends… prepared to moan and groan about things that don’t matter a wit when compared to all of the other worldly problems.  That’s my nature.  Please engrave “Bellyacher” somewheres on my gravestone family… and while you’re at it I’d like a good selection of my doilies sewn to my dress.

I woke up this morning, freezing my hindquarters off (oh man I wish… wouldn’t that be an awesome weight loss plan… freezing one’s hindquarters off… let’s work on the bane of my existence cold weather), only to look out the window and see this:

Can you see it!?!?!?!  No?  Let’s zoom in for good ole’fashioned kicks and giggles, then…

I’m imagining that’s a gigantic muffin and on top of that muffin, the baker has just strewn a slew of powdered sugar across it.  Whitney done needs to get her fork and take a bite.  TELL ME IT’S POWDERED SUGAR!!  The 4-letter S word will NOT cross my lips (or my typing fingers for that matter)… WILL NOT… you hear me, Snow!? DAGBLASTIT!   Screwed that 4-letter word up already!   I would just like to remind the universe that it was only October 6th today… you need to at least give me the month of October… then it is free reign on the swear words!

Meanwhile… back to the less bellyachey world (oh… who am I kidding… I’ll still be bellyaching… I ain’t worked all these years to grow this here belly just to let it get free rent… the lease is up, honey!)  This week’s cooking adventures came with 1 success and 1 failure.  The failure was the biggest bummer in the universe because it was my first crockpot recipe and I was totally anticipating eating it all dang day.  It only had to cook for 8-1/2 hours… that’s a long time to anticipate!  Mediterranean Casserole… you are OUTTA here!  Ick, ick ick.  It looked good from the sounds of it… carrots and onions and green beans and kidney beans and tomatoes and macaroni… kind of like a minestrone sort of recipe.  Something about it tasted really off to me, though and I won’t be looking forward to eating the leftovers tomorrow.  I even made Madre taste it and she agreed it wasn’t the best (so it’s not just me)!  I didn’t even bother to take a picture of that nastiness.

The success was something called Scandinavian Vegetable Stew.  It’s been wintery cold here this week, thus the stew and casserole resurgence.   This recipe had a full 2 cups of milk in it for the sauce… wasn’t sure how that was going to work with my lactose intolerance, but for some reason if you thicken the stuff up and stick veggies with it… it works.  Can’t drink milk plain or eat it in cereal or oatmeal or yogurt but disguise it and it’s a go… the weirdest intolerance ever!

Scandinavian Vegetable Stew
Serves 4

8 to 10 small red potatoes cut into fourths (3 cups)
2 cups fresh or frozen baby cut carrots
3 Tablespoons margarine
3 medium green onions sliced (1/3 cup)
3 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups milk
1/2 cup frozen peas
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon pepper
2 Tablespoon chopped fresh or 1/2 teaspoon dried dill weed
2 hard-cooked eggs, chopped

Mix potatoes and carrots in 3-quart saucepan; add enough water to cover. Heat to boiling; reduce heat to medium. Cover and cook 8 to 10 minutes or until tender; drain in colander. Wipe out saucepan with paper towel.

Melt margarine in same saucepan over medium heat. Cook onions in margarine 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in flour. Gradually add milk, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens and boils.

Stir in potatoes and carrots, peas, salt and pepper. Cook 5 to 6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until peas are tender.

Stir in dill weed. Cook 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Top each serving with chopped egg and, if desired, additional dill weed.

For the calorizers of the bunch, depending on how many red potatoes/hard-boiled eggs you put in, this recipe will come out to about 310 to 345 calories per serving.  For some reason my camera lens has this really attractive smudge on it… laws smudge… go away!

Question of the Day:  Are you a fan of cold/winter weather?  If so, you need to kick my receptacle into shape?  If not, what is your favorite season? 

FYI:  Next week I leave on my vacation!  Much anticipated bucket list item, Mission:  Uncage the Singing Bird trip… hotel rooms, bring me your best Lysol.  The point being, I’ll probably not be posting from Tuesdee, the 11th through Wednesday, the 19th… at least.  Catch you all on the flip side! 

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Filed under Calorizing, Recipes