Knock Knock

Knock knock!

Who's there?

Lettuce.

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Be Careful What You Ask For ...

… you just might get it.

When I asked for a floor plan that let the outdoors in, I didn't mean this:

And when I asked my husband to run the sweeper, I didn't mean this:

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A Question For The Ages

In the shower Tuesday morning, I made a startling discovery.

I discovered a small, tender spot. Accompanied by a tiny bump.

It was the bump I was the most concerned about further investigating.

My first thought (and I'm not proud of this) was of sheer panic. Then I thought of Arnold Schwarzenegger and calmed down.

It's not a tum-ah. It's not a tum-ah at all.

My next thought was "Really? On my arm?"

That immediately led me to think of little brother Randy in A Christmas Story.

"I can't put my arms down!"

At least my bump was small enough that I could put my arms down.

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Yay Dirt! Part Deux

Know what this is?

Oh, come on now! It's, like, totally obvious!

You really can't guess what this is?

But there is a little green shoot sticking up out of the ground.

A shoot, people. A shoot.

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The Ominous Sky or How I Ended Up In My Basement Eating Ice Cream

I had just sat down at the computer to compose a post for this blog when the weather radio crackled to life at the same time I heard the severe weather siren start to wail.

I listened to the weather radio as I stepped out onto my back patio. This is what I saw:

Being an amateur weather person (what are they called again ... metallurgists? manicurists? metallica?) I confirmed the severe weather report.

You might recognize parts of my backyard. There, in the lower right corner of the photo standing behind the white fence, are the horses that don't like me much.

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Strawberries

One strawberry

Two strawberries

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I'm Hungry

Kids are always hungry. I think this fact is universal, no matter the race, nationality, gender, size, shape or age.

Or species.

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Perspective

I've been thinking about perspective a lot lately. Mostly how it pertains to photography and taking pictures, but every time I think about perspective I think about one of my former students from community college.

Her name is Sharon. And she taught me a lot about seeing things from another perspective. Here is part of her story.

I have taught several beginning computer classes via the community college for people receiving unemployment benefits. The theory is to give folks who had lost their jobs some computer skills so they would be more marketable in the workforce.

One of the take-aways from this class (besides computer skills) was a working resumé. To receive a grade from me, every student had to turn in a nice, polished, up-to-date resumé that was created on a computer and not a manual typewriter.

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Being Late

There are few aspects of life that really irritate me. Seriously irritate me on a primal level.

Being totally out of Breyer's ice cream is one of them.

No new episodes of Real Housewives of Orange County is another.

I don't have an official written down list of irritations in descending or ascending order, mostly because I just now thought of it. I'd like to do it, but I'm busy making chili and blogging right now. Besides, I've discovered that what irks me operates on a sliding scale, is totally fluid, and bound to change from hour to hour.

But one aspect of life is perpetually on my list of great annoyances and it is guaranteed to really wind me up.

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A New Neighbor

We have a new neighbor!

So far, he's pretty quiet. A little homely, but quiet.

But he has a very loud, very overprotective mother.

And she already doesn't much care for me.

Just look at her glaring at me from atop my own swing set.

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Blogger.com Update

I'm not entirely sure what happened but blogger.com went a little nutty at the end of last week.

Some of my recent posts disappeared for a couple of days, then reappeared. They reappeared looking (at first glance) normal, but upon further inspection looked a little wonky.

Kinda like me.

Most of the posts are okay. One disappeared altogether and my only wish is that it doesn't show up on some other blog. Especially because it was a post that continues my thoughts on my senior prom.

And it included a repost of my prom picture.

Imagine if that post showed up on a blog about motocross.

Or a blog about the merits of Jello.

Or an ultra-hip super cool blog about crazy good music and the chic people that listen to it.

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How You Doin?

Psst! Psst! Attention Woman With A Camera.

Over here.

By the fence.

Yeah, that's right. Over here.

C'mere!

C'mon! C'mere!

How you doin?

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5 Mistakes Before 2:00 pm

You know the phrase "Everybody makes mistakes"? It's true.

And I had an interesting day yesterday to prove it.

Here, in list form of course, are the mistakes that I made in just one day before 2:00 pm (be prepared to be amazed):

1. Walked into the men's room. An occupied men's room.

2. Didn't immediately realize that I was standing in the men's room, the occupied men's room, until the man said "Can I help you?" as he zipped up.

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New Neighbors

Over the past couple of weeks, we've had some action in the backyard.

Lots of location scouting. Lots of construction. Lots of building. Lots of disagreements with the neighbors (us) on where precisely to build.

We didn't like the first location, so we took down what had been built.

It was rebuilt again in the same place.

We removed what was rebuilt again.

It was rebuilt. This had been built a total of three times.

We took the hint and left it alone. Life is about picking your battles and this was a loosing one for us.

After all of the building and rebuilding was complete, there was rest.

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Ninja Kitty

We have a cat.

He is black.

His name is Boo.

He is a fierce hunter.

He is equal parts focused and determined as he quietly stalks his prey.

His prowess is legendary in my 'hood.

Where other cats fail, Boo succeeds.

He is a magnificent specimen of stealthiness.

In short, he is part ninja.

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From Roasting Pan to Space Helmet

A conversation with my child Friday after school:

Child: I need an entire astronaut suit, complete with space helmet, for my History Fair project.

Me: Okay. When do you need it?

Child: Tuesday.

Crap.

The suit itself is easy. White long sleeved shirt. White pants. White shoes. Done.

Space helmet? No idea how to construct one of those babies.

I thought about a motorcycle helmet covered with white duct tape. Then I ruled it out because I don't have a motorcycle helmet and those people I know that do have one … well they don't want it covered in white duct tape to look like a space helmet.

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My Senior Prom

It's Prom season here in the Midwest and the local high schools are ready.

My kids are on a swim team that practices at the high school they will attend one day. There are two posters hanging up right as you walk into the building.

One depicts appropriate Prom attire and includes examples of such. Modest cleavage showing, side slit going up a bit but not too much, and a fitted but not tight dress all make the appropriate list. There are several photos cut out of catalogs or magazines and labeled "good cleavage" or "side slit high, but not too high" for more visual learners on this poster.

It's the Nice list, if you will.

Now I'd like to present the Naughty list. It, too, has pictures. These pictures though, are of bad prom dress choices. It's a way fun more poster to peruse.

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From Nipples to Beverly Hills to George Foreman

I should have known it was going to be a weird day when I found

a nipple in the parking lot at Target.

It got weirder when I realized that the mileage on my Honda reached a milestone that only a person in their late teens/early 20s in the '90s could appreciate.

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Lovely Ladies

On Friday, I was unable to attend William and Kate's wedding for a number of reasons … not being officially invited was one of them.

The annual Girl Scout Father/Daughter dance was another.

It was my oldest daughter's last Father/Daughter dance. That fact makes me weepy.

Wednesday was our last Muffins for Moms. That fact makes me weepy.

Throw in the royal wedding and I was a goner.

By the time the last song was played at the last Father/Daughter dance, I was this close to being a weepy wreck.

But I had two friends that kept making me laugh instead of allowing me to indulge in my cry fest.

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