October 24, 2008


So, I've been very, very patient. A long time ago a certain someone hijacked my blog and posted a picture of me skiing. My best form of revenge is to ignore because it drives people crazy that you don't say anything. However, now it's my turn to hijack! Steph is not back from her blog hiatus and I miss her blogs ALOT but I just wanted to take this opportunity to say........


If you know or have been around Stephanie at certain times you know that if she notices that it is 10:24pm or 10:24am she wants her children or whoever to sing to her because it's her "birthday." I thought it only appropriate that we all leave you birthday wishes on the actual date.... 10.24.08!

I hope birthday week has been fun and that you know how loved you are by your friends and family!
It's time to celebrate!!!!

I love ya friend!


October 02, 2008

i'm not leaving this room

I'm at a hotel tonight. Never stayed in a hotel by myself before. Thought it might be a little creepy . . . until I saw the room. Can I just say, "Holy Hyatt Place, Batman?" This is the most amazing room I have ever been in. There are 7 pillows on the bed and a sectional sofa on the other side of the wall. (No, there are not 2 beds . . . I will try to remedy that for those of you joining me tomorrow night!) A real hair dryer is tucked away nicely in the vanity drawer - not mounted to the wall with a too-short curly cord. The artwork does NOT look like it came from a 1992 Home Interior's party. A desk, a mini-bar, some interesting built-ins and wainscotting (you know, that nice moulding around the middle of the wall.) I have decided to skip the Friday session of the ZOE Conference and stay here all day watching HG-TV - on the large, flatscreen tv. After I get a massage and a pedicure, of course.

Oh, yeah. I don't have a laptop. I'm blogging from the Hyatt Place's little computer nook.

Feel sorry for me . . . I'm all alone.

happy hour

We were eating lunch one day and wondering if we couldn’t just hang around the restaurant until 2 p.m. so we could just go straight to Sonic for Happy Hour (Oh, yeah. Health nuts we are.) Anyway, the subject got changed somehow to breastfeeding and the fact that Kevin nursed until he was old enough to tie his shoes. Kevin was expressing his disdain for the awkwardness of the topic when Mike said, “I don’t see what your problem is. You used to think THAT was Happy Hour!” Made me laugh.

We have decided to name our amazingly fun kitten, Thumper. She jumps. Vertically. Makes me laugh.

My daughter calls me “maw”. I hate it. Hate. It. She says “maw” implies a good, old-timey, but hip to what her kids need, mother. I say it is the “old-timey” label to which I take offense. I asked her to stop. She said “get used to it”. I have decided to call her “hag”. Makes me laugh. I think she needs to get used to it.

October 01, 2008

free-range butcher-fleers

It seems a few weeks back some cows escaped from a farm in the south part of our county. I’m not sure of the details, maybe the Chik-Fil-A billboards were starting to worry them, maybe their “uttermilk” was being shipped to Ben & Jerry’s, but regardless, they saw a downed fence, cried “Freedom”, and decided to make a break for it. They were wildly successful. Something like 50 or 60 of them wandering the streets and suburbs near Almo.

We learned this information from my youngest brother-in-law who is one of the deputy sheriffs in the county, as they spent many hours working with Animal Control trying to round up the AWOL cattle. They, unlike the cows, were NOT successful. Consequently, my brother-in-law was busy over the next few nights answering phone calls from people with unexpected bovine yard invasions.

“Uh, Mabel, call 9-1-1, thar’s a cow on the porch and I’ont thank she’s sellin’ Avon.”

After a week or so, the farmers from whom these cows absconded informed the officers they should just “eliminate” any of the ones left roaming lest they become traffic hazards.

Upon hearing this, my husband, ever the opportunist, devises a plan.

Free cows = Open Season

Cow Hunting. Or, cow herding, really, as he has no intent to kill, (unless, of course, the cows draw first blood.)

His plan is only to capture these free-range Bessies, and thereby begin his own cattle farm (or dairy farm - again, I didn’t get all the details). Of course, we don’t own a farm, but that’s a minor detail to the cowboy. His modus operandi involves his dad, both his brothers, one friend, at least 3 ATV’s, a farm trailer and, of course, his mustangs.

There were more details to this ingenious scheme, but while he was recounting them to me, my brain wandered off to my happy place.