Artsy Fartsy Part Deux

I had a recurrence of the artsy fartsy photos. You know how those fartsy things sometimes repeat on you. Don't act like that never happens to you. I should probably warn you that there are more icicles involved. I need help. Please. Professional Dr. Phil-type help. Pronto. 


But I can't help it. There's just something about icicles. I'm drawn to them like Tammy Faye Baker to mascara. Only (hopefully) with less disastrous results.

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Didn't Die Today. Life Is Good.

I went roller skating today for the first time since 1984 and I didn't die. Life is good.


There were a few moments at the beginning that were touch-and-go. And I did my fair share of careening uncontrollably around corners. Which led to flailing my arms about wildly. I like to think that I flailed about with style and panache, but I probably looked like a giant goober. Or, more accurately, like a duck trying to take flight. Duck imitation or not, roller skating is giant amounts of fun.

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Gettin' My Artsy Fartsy On

You, my faithful readers, may have noticed my lack of posts from the last several days. Fear not, for I have not deserted you nor have I run out of things to say (gasp - perish the thought!). I have turned my attention elsewhere. Hons, I've been getting my artsy fartsy on. Big time. And I like it. Buckle up and hold on 'cause I'm about to get obnoxious. Even more obnoxious than usual.

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In my head ...

In my head I'm …
… a really good singer, like Belinda Carlisle or Aretha Franklin
… really tall, like 5'3"
… so good at parallel parking that I give lessons


In my head I have …

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Fingers in My Cheeks or How Much I Wanted Dimples

I am a rather ordinary looking gal, which means that I was a rather ordinary looking kid. Except for ages twelve through sixteen (1984-88). Let's face it, no one did well during those years, but I digress. I didn't want to look ordinary anymore so I decided to take matters into my own hands and change my appearance.


There were minimal options available for a third grader to change
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Gingerbread Army Part Deux

I can't help myself. I made another gingerbread army, but this time my dough boys are edible. As in tasty. Yummy. Delicious. Load them up with icing and devour them in one sitting. 


Having learned my lesson about listening to the Village People whilst decorating a gingerbread army, (Gingerbread Army)

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Gingerbread Army

Over the past couple of weeks I have cut out over 300 gingerbread men for this year's Christmas card. Folks, that's a lot of dough boys. 

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Whoopsie of the Week: Bananas

It has been an unusually productive week for me. I've managed to incorporate quite a few major blunders into just a few short days. Yep, I'm gifted. In the interest of self preservation, I have chosen to share only the most spectacular, wonderful, spazztastic, colossal whoopsie of the week and not all 75 of boneheaded things I said or did this week. 

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Dear Lord

Dear Lord,

Thank you for allowing me to drive safely to and from my oldest cherub's school this morning as the roads were slicker than I had anticipated.

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The Duke, Jimmy Buffett, and Elmo

Did you know that there is a man in Las Vegas who specializes in John Wayne memorabilia? Knowing everything about The Duke is this man's job? As in he makes money zipping around the country telling folks if they own a gen-u-ine John Wayne hat or spur or whatever. People listen up. This is a job. You know what this means? My high school guidance counselor sucked eggs.

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((°J°))

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Soup's on!

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Small World

Today is December 7. It is Pearl Harbor Day, a "day which will live in infamy". I will not bombard you with factual information about the Japanese attack on Hawaii or the effects that attack had on our nation, but I do suggest you Google it. Instead I will tell you a story about my honeymoon. And no, it won't be a boom chicka wah wah story. Pervert.

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This amused me …

This amused me.  Look closely at the average high and low temperatures for December 6 (according to my local news station).

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The Best (Local) Christmas Parade Ever

On Sunday, the temperature reached a balmy 24 degrees. With winds. And blowing snow. It was a perfect day to sit inside by the fire and sip hot cocoa while playing Yahtzee! with your family. It was not a perfect day to sit outside and watch the local Christmas parade, which is what we did. Clearly we have lost our minds.



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What?!

I wasn't paying attention. I should have been, but I was distracted by amazon.com's Deal of the Day. I came out of my amazon.com coma when my husband said, "We've got a couple of brew masters in the making." What?! 

8.75 year old: "Isn't it great that you can trust your kids to bottle beer for you?"

Husband: "Yep."

8.75 year old: "Kids grow up so fast."

Me: What?!

Husband: "Did you taste any of that beer?"
8.75 year old: "No, but there's some on my hand."
Husband: "Just lick it off."
Me: What?!

11 year old: "This is so insanely awesome. I'm glad my homework is done."
Husband: "You're doing great. You're a natural brew master."
Me: What?!

Husband: "It's time for you to get in the shower now. Before you go, show your sister how to fill the bottles."
8.75 year old: "Sure, but I want to cap a bottle before I go."
Me:  What?!


Husband: "It takes a lot of strength to cap."
8.75 year old: "Dad, I've been working out. I've been playing 'Ninja Fruit' all night."
Me: What?!

11 year old: "Dad! Mind the beer hose!"
Husband: "Sorry, didn't mean to step on it."
Me:  What?!

Husband: "Put a cap on and gently press the lever down."
11 year old: "Got it. Now move."
Me: What?!

In the immortal words of Bugs Bunny: If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!



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Snow? Waaaahhh!

Well it had to happen sooner or later. I'd prefer later, but Mother Nature did not ask me. I awoke this morning to my husband telling me that it snowed while we slept. My immediate, gleeful response wasn't "Whoopee! Snow!", but a rather gleeful "Is school on a two hour delay? Oh wait - is it cancelled?" Sadly, no. School opened right on time. Stupid education nazis.

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