Hi! So it's been a couple day's since I've blogged, so sorry bout that. What is new? Hmmm. I watched Hilary & Jackie on IFC, good movie. It took me a couple weeks to watch it, when I try to watch a movie I always end up doing something else and watching it in 15-20 minute blocks.
We went to Chattanooga yesterday & walked the bridge to the carousel, and back to the aqaurium. There's a great New Age bookstore over there called New Moon. If you're into New Age bookstores, it's great. They sell incense and sage, (burning sage cleanses the bad chi in your home!) windchimes, all sorts of goodies.
The UU had a pot luck dinner, and Linda Bell made two soups, which were completely awesome. One was a veg. Sweet Potato Soup, the other was Chicken Avocado. They are both awesome. The chicken avocado looked completely scarey, but I'm telling you, it was magical. Maybe I should stick the recipe on this blog entry and start another one?
I think I will...
Vibrant Rice & Chicken Soup
2 1/2 c cooked brown rice
3 skinless chick breast halves
4 c water
1 can chicken stock
1 onion, chopped
3 carrots, sliced
3 Tbs Lime juice
1/8 tsp ground cayenne pepper
1 avocado, cubed
2 tomatoes, cubed
4 oz queso fresco or farmer cheese, grated (optional)
Cook brown rice. While it cooks-
In 4 qt pot over med heat,
bring chicken, water, stock & onion to boil.
Reduce heat and simmer for 25 minutes.
Add carrots & simmer 20 minutes.
Remove chicken & cut into lil pieces.
Put chicken back. Stir in rice, lime juice & pepper.
Heat 3-5 minutes, but don't boil.
Stir in avocado & tomato. Heat. you can top with the cheese.
serves 4
I'll put the veg Sweet potato on here too, next week!
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Boogies
Months ago, the baby was telling us about this boy in her class. Let's call him Abe...
"He picks his nose and eats his boogies."
"That's probably not true...that's not a very nice thing to say..."
"It is true."
We went to the Easter party and followed the kids while they chased down eggs, then sorted them. After the hunt, we went to the class to watch our little princess. A few kids over, Abe sat, picking his nose, eating his boogies, sure 'nuff.
Even stranger, his tongue went straight into his wee little nostril, like that of a cow. He blew his nose on his tongue, and again, it went into his nose. I'd say his tongue stayed in his nose about 85% of the time we were there. I'm being pretty generous with the 85%, too.
"Do you need a tissue, Abe?" the teacher would say. But he didn't. My husband sat, transfixed.
After lunch, we rode home.
"I couldn't take my eye's off of him," he said.
"Me neither. Do you think his parents know?"
"How could they not know? That's a really bad habit. How do you start a habit like that?"
We both tried to stick our tongues into our own noses while riding down the road. Impossible.
"Maybe you start a habit like that because you can?" Poor Abe was just a victim of an abnormally long tongue. Oops! Did I say victim? Nah. Everything we are given is something we have for a reason. Even small diversities need celebrating! Who knows, little Abe may be the lead singer in a KISS cover band one day.
When you're 16,
it's not funny when your parents pick their nose in the car.
When you're 40, it's funny that your 16 year old thinks
it's not funny that you pick your nose in the car.
The things you worry about become bigger,
the things you used to worry about, unimportant.
What a great lesson for a young person to learn,
that your worries are unfounded- none at all really.
I hope that my kids don't find themselves
in that inhibited state,
where they lose their best, most shiny moments
to fear of an imaginary monster in the closet.
God bless them, their potential is limitless!
And God bless little Abe, too.
We're all flawed. until we celebrate our flaws,
we'll be scarred by unquenched thirsts for perfection-
& regret that we didn't know we were perfect already,
until we were just too tired to do anything about it.
"He picks his nose and eats his boogies."
"That's probably not true...that's not a very nice thing to say..."
"It is true."
We went to the Easter party and followed the kids while they chased down eggs, then sorted them. After the hunt, we went to the class to watch our little princess. A few kids over, Abe sat, picking his nose, eating his boogies, sure 'nuff.
Even stranger, his tongue went straight into his wee little nostril, like that of a cow. He blew his nose on his tongue, and again, it went into his nose. I'd say his tongue stayed in his nose about 85% of the time we were there. I'm being pretty generous with the 85%, too.
"Do you need a tissue, Abe?" the teacher would say. But he didn't. My husband sat, transfixed.
After lunch, we rode home.
"I couldn't take my eye's off of him," he said.
"Me neither. Do you think his parents know?"
"How could they not know? That's a really bad habit. How do you start a habit like that?"
We both tried to stick our tongues into our own noses while riding down the road. Impossible.
"Maybe you start a habit like that because you can?" Poor Abe was just a victim of an abnormally long tongue. Oops! Did I say victim? Nah. Everything we are given is something we have for a reason. Even small diversities need celebrating! Who knows, little Abe may be the lead singer in a KISS cover band one day.
When you're 16,
it's not funny when your parents pick their nose in the car.
When you're 40, it's funny that your 16 year old thinks
it's not funny that you pick your nose in the car.
The things you worry about become bigger,
the things you used to worry about, unimportant.
What a great lesson for a young person to learn,
that your worries are unfounded- none at all really.
I hope that my kids don't find themselves
in that inhibited state,
where they lose their best, most shiny moments
to fear of an imaginary monster in the closet.
God bless them, their potential is limitless!
And God bless little Abe, too.
We're all flawed. until we celebrate our flaws,
we'll be scarred by unquenched thirsts for perfection-
& regret that we didn't know we were perfect already,
until we were just too tired to do anything about it.
~ & God bless you on your journey ~
the Playlist
Not too much to write about today. I spent about an hour this morning looking for my running shoes, frantically. You know that feeling, "Where are they? Where are they???!"
Then I spent about 20 minutes running...in my teva oraibi's. Not so bad.
Paisley Park just came on my playlist. It's one of those songs that takes me back. I remember being 15, playing the paisley park record over and over. Around the World in a Day? I loved that record (yep, mine was vinyl) but Paisley park was one of those songs I loved. I remember sitting on my bed writing in my journal, my heart aching for a pakistani boy named Junaid whose eyes were too pale for his face. (The boy worked at the mall at one of those jewelry huts with his family, you probably have one of those at your mall too.)
We were friends with his family & who knows what became of him, but I played that record & hung Christmas lights around my room, trying to envision it a middle eastern escape.
Wyclef Jean is on now- If I Were President. Love Wyclef! And that just reminds me of how great the Dave Chappelle show was when it was on. (Wyclef sang that song on one episode...)
I think Wy is such a versatile guy. A Million Voices & Two Wrongs are also great songs. I think the Fugee's are due another try- The people are due this energy powerhouse that they would be now. Hill's acoustic 'Water' is one of those songs you listen to and you can literally feel the love pouring from the speakers. With all the bad news of the tv- most recently the Virginia shootings, the world needs some positivity.
If you have such a medium to inspire the generations that truly need inspiring most-
If you have a God given gift, why hold back?
Love is an energy that you should spend freely. You will not run out.
I doubt they will come across my blog, but they could do it for charity. Then I want them to tour with India Arie.
And Ben Harper.
Okay, I may be asking too much.
Will I be asking too much if
I tell you to
Have a sweet, sweet day? & thanks for stopping in :)
Then I spent about 20 minutes running...in my teva oraibi's. Not so bad.
Paisley Park just came on my playlist. It's one of those songs that takes me back. I remember being 15, playing the paisley park record over and over. Around the World in a Day? I loved that record (yep, mine was vinyl) but Paisley park was one of those songs I loved. I remember sitting on my bed writing in my journal, my heart aching for a pakistani boy named Junaid whose eyes were too pale for his face. (The boy worked at the mall at one of those jewelry huts with his family, you probably have one of those at your mall too.)
We were friends with his family & who knows what became of him, but I played that record & hung Christmas lights around my room, trying to envision it a middle eastern escape.
Wyclef Jean is on now- If I Were President. Love Wyclef! And that just reminds me of how great the Dave Chappelle show was when it was on. (Wyclef sang that song on one episode...)
I think Wy is such a versatile guy. A Million Voices & Two Wrongs are also great songs. I think the Fugee's are due another try- The people are due this energy powerhouse that they would be now. Hill's acoustic 'Water' is one of those songs you listen to and you can literally feel the love pouring from the speakers. With all the bad news of the tv- most recently the Virginia shootings, the world needs some positivity.
If you have such a medium to inspire the generations that truly need inspiring most-
If you have a God given gift, why hold back?
Love is an energy that you should spend freely. You will not run out.
I doubt they will come across my blog, but they could do it for charity. Then I want them to tour with India Arie.
And Ben Harper.
Okay, I may be asking too much.
Will I be asking too much if
I tell you to
Have a sweet, sweet day? & thanks for stopping in :)
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Sorry...
Good morning!
Initially I came in here to delete my previous posting, which was, um, not so kind. I hated that I would sink that low. I'm not angry now- and I do apologize for my remarks.
However,
I won't be deleting them today.
Because deleting my blog of anything negative I might say would give you one view, and that view would not necessarily be correct. I said what I said. It may not always be what others or myself wants to hear. I had a bad day.
Saccharin tastes similar to sugar, but I don't like it.
Today I'll take the good and bad things that go along with sugar, and I'll do better next time.
Today is Wednesday. For me, Wednesday is the day before the really busy day. I'm supposed to go out and buy a birthday gift for some party we just got invited to.
"What does she like?"
"Bratz."
"What else?"
"I don't know."
"What size shoes does she wear?"
"Same as me. We tried eachothers shoes before."
"Does she have lots of shoes?"
"Yep."
Am I overly practical thinking about getting some kid a pair of Crocs as a birthday gift? How many toys do people need? Spring is here- wouldn't a cosy pair of shoes be more useful? Or should I just go with the doll with the black lip liner and the daisy dukes? I don't know. (I'd love to hear any comments you may have on the subject.)
That's the thing about Aquarians. At times, you are torn between being extremely practical and just plain odd. Hopefully I'll find a happy medium.
Have a great day- yt
Initially I came in here to delete my previous posting, which was, um, not so kind. I hated that I would sink that low. I'm not angry now- and I do apologize for my remarks.
However,
I won't be deleting them today.
Because deleting my blog of anything negative I might say would give you one view, and that view would not necessarily be correct. I said what I said. It may not always be what others or myself wants to hear. I had a bad day.
Saccharin tastes similar to sugar, but I don't like it.
Today I'll take the good and bad things that go along with sugar, and I'll do better next time.
Today is Wednesday. For me, Wednesday is the day before the really busy day. I'm supposed to go out and buy a birthday gift for some party we just got invited to.
"What does she like?"
"Bratz."
"What else?"
"I don't know."
"What size shoes does she wear?"
"Same as me. We tried eachothers shoes before."
"Does she have lots of shoes?"
"Yep."
Am I overly practical thinking about getting some kid a pair of Crocs as a birthday gift? How many toys do people need? Spring is here- wouldn't a cosy pair of shoes be more useful? Or should I just go with the doll with the black lip liner and the daisy dukes? I don't know. (I'd love to hear any comments you may have on the subject.)
That's the thing about Aquarians. At times, you are torn between being extremely practical and just plain odd. Hopefully I'll find a happy medium.
Have a great day- yt
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Venting.
Okay, so before I started this blog (which was a week ago) I was sending my friends an email, once a month, to talk about current stuff. Nothing crazy, and not too often. So I figured, I'll email a link to my new blog so my friends can read it if they want!
So I get this email from Golda, in Seattle, who kindly sent my class free dreidels for our Hannukah celebration. I open it, and it says, "Please, please, Remove me from your list."
Hmmm. Please, please, Remove me from your list. Golda, who once wrote to me that she had always wanted a pen pal. Confusing. I write back to her.
"Golda, I'm so sorry If I've offended you in any way. Thanks so much for the dreidels again, and I will take you off my list. Again, I'm sorry." blah, blah, blah, you know.
Why did her short email bruise me so? And why does the very name Golda make my skin crawl now? Because I thought she was my friend.
Why? Did her sending me dreidels make her my friend? What makes someone a friend? Who is your friend? Did you say the lady that rings up your steamed dumplings at the chinese take out? Just because you recognize someone, it doesn't make them your friend. I happen to know that lady at the dumpling place doesn't understand what the f*** you're saying. (Ouch! I'm sorry for that. I'll be a good girl tomarrow!)
You could dig up Elvis, and set him down at the head of your dinner table, and that still won't make him your friend. You know his name? You know his music? You may (or not?) be able to recognize him. But he's not your friend either.
And celebrities would not make good friends anyhow.
So you all can quit it with the "celebrity worship because you think they are your friend" thing. And I'll give up on the "Golda is my friend because she sent us free dreidels and wanted to be my penpal" thing too. Or perhaps the "Golda would've been a cool jewish grandmother!" thing.
And had I not previously emptied my bowels, I would do so, and name it Golda today. (Maybe I'll eat some corn later so Golda will have eyes for tomarrow.)
Because she hurt my feelings. And that's not nice :(
But you are still my friends, oops! friend. Um...Well, maybe not really, considering a complete stranger can read this? I should remember you can attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Thank God I'm married! obviously I'm not too into flies?
What else? We borrowed this steam cleaner to clean the furniture, and Steven completely soaked the loveseat down. But first, he filled the machine with Bissell cleaner...sprayed the entire thing, then read the directions. Turns out, we were supposed to dilute the solution 1 part bissell to 2 parts tap water. And the loveseat is sticky. Get too close and it burns your eyes!
So today, I've been spraying it down with water and sucking up all the bubbles back into the machine.
I think my energy is a little toxic today. Nothing a little Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide can't fix. Til then, take care!
ps. Wayne Dyer is about to tour! (If you don't know Wayne, check him out!)
So I get this email from Golda, in Seattle, who kindly sent my class free dreidels for our Hannukah celebration. I open it, and it says, "Please, please, Remove me from your list."
Hmmm. Please, please, Remove me from your list. Golda, who once wrote to me that she had always wanted a pen pal. Confusing. I write back to her.
"Golda, I'm so sorry If I've offended you in any way. Thanks so much for the dreidels again, and I will take you off my list. Again, I'm sorry." blah, blah, blah, you know.
Why did her short email bruise me so? And why does the very name Golda make my skin crawl now? Because I thought she was my friend.
Why? Did her sending me dreidels make her my friend? What makes someone a friend? Who is your friend? Did you say the lady that rings up your steamed dumplings at the chinese take out? Just because you recognize someone, it doesn't make them your friend. I happen to know that lady at the dumpling place doesn't understand what the f*** you're saying. (Ouch! I'm sorry for that. I'll be a good girl tomarrow!)
You could dig up Elvis, and set him down at the head of your dinner table, and that still won't make him your friend. You know his name? You know his music? You may (or not?) be able to recognize him. But he's not your friend either.
And celebrities would not make good friends anyhow.
So you all can quit it with the "celebrity worship because you think they are your friend" thing. And I'll give up on the "Golda is my friend because she sent us free dreidels and wanted to be my penpal" thing too. Or perhaps the "Golda would've been a cool jewish grandmother!" thing.
And had I not previously emptied my bowels, I would do so, and name it Golda today. (Maybe I'll eat some corn later so Golda will have eyes for tomarrow.)
Because she hurt my feelings. And that's not nice :(
But you are still my friends, oops! friend. Um...Well, maybe not really, considering a complete stranger can read this? I should remember you can attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Thank God I'm married! obviously I'm not too into flies?
What else? We borrowed this steam cleaner to clean the furniture, and Steven completely soaked the loveseat down. But first, he filled the machine with Bissell cleaner...sprayed the entire thing, then read the directions. Turns out, we were supposed to dilute the solution 1 part bissell to 2 parts tap water. And the loveseat is sticky. Get too close and it burns your eyes!
So today, I've been spraying it down with water and sucking up all the bubbles back into the machine.
I think my energy is a little toxic today. Nothing a little Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide can't fix. Til then, take care!
ps. Wayne Dyer is about to tour! (If you don't know Wayne, check him out!)
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Horses
It's Saturday, and while not a particularly beautiful one (thunderstorms on the way?) I don't really have any desire to spend it blogging. I think we may go bowling instead.
Maybe you'd like a really good quote instead.
Half of the failures of this world in life arise from pulling in one's horse as he is leaping-
Julius & Augustus Hare
Maybe this will invoke some sort of great thought or revelation on your part. If you've randomly crossed upon my blog, maybe this quote is meant for you.
Or maybe you'll just read this and decide to call someone up and take them bowling, drink a beer with an old friend at a bowling alley, all the while asking yourself,
"What does failure have to do with horses?"
yikes.
Anyhow, here's one person that hopes you have a cool day! much love- yt
Maybe you'd like a really good quote instead.
Half of the failures of this world in life arise from pulling in one's horse as he is leaping-
Julius & Augustus Hare
Maybe this will invoke some sort of great thought or revelation on your part. If you've randomly crossed upon my blog, maybe this quote is meant for you.
Or maybe you'll just read this and decide to call someone up and take them bowling, drink a beer with an old friend at a bowling alley, all the while asking yourself,
"What does failure have to do with horses?"
yikes.
Anyhow, here's one person that hopes you have a cool day! much love- yt
Friday, April 13, 2007
Om...
It's noon, but since it's spring break, it feels morningish, with the sleeping in. Today's soundtrack so far has been "The Gyuto Monks: Tibetan Tantric Choir." It is a bit reminiscent of bullfrogs in a bog, singing or courting each other. I don't know what they're actually saying- something that sounds like "Oy, Ay Ya, Oy, Oyyy. Ahhhhh! Oy, Oy, Ya, Oy, Ommmm!" I rather like it, as it doesn't take focus away from anything else, but Naomi tells me it's getting a little boring. May have to find something a little more up tempo.
So, how's the world today? It's Friday, you must be happy about that. I had my coffee, and a Spinach Sensation Spinach pocket, and now I'm working on a generic bottle of spring water. We recycle the little plastic bottles, but I think soon we'll move on to one of those giant in house water cooler numbers.
I bought a pre-owned "new" sofa a few weeks ago, which I love, but now as I look around the room, I'd like a new chair, rug, curtains...I have to tell you, mentally, I think I should've been a decorator. What great taste I have! At the same time, I believe everyone thinks they have great taste. Even the person who buys that hunter green burgundy striped sofa, they think they have good taste as well. And all the people who overuse the color tan. So maybe, my lavender-grey room, lime bedding and brown floral sheets are not so tasteful after all.
Am I kidding? Of course they are! I'm awesome! Celebrate the fact that you, out there, have good taste. Because it isn't about other people's impressions at all. It's about what makes you happy.
Years ago, I bought a little old carved corn figurine, little arms and legs, little eyes. I propped him up on my bookshelf, and I like him. I like his little corny yellow head. The shucks are like a little jacket on him.
"What are we going to name him?" The girls want everything named.
"Cornholio," Remember Beavis & Butthead?
"Cornholio?" But they were satisfied.
Wow, The Monks are partying! Maybe that's the grand finale? Maybe not.
My crocheting is going good. I ended up with a huge knot, but cut it out with the nail clippers & carried on. I think I'm going to start crocheting Christmas gifts after I get done with the blanket. It'll take me that long.
I'm looking for some rabbit prints. If anyone is just happening across my blog, and knows where I can find some black and white rabbit prints, leave me a note. For that matter, I'm also looking for a Michel Bernstein print, titled "Friends come in all flavors."
The baby just stopped at the doorway and informed me she did "a big giant poop." Funny.
My ex-brother-in-law, now married to my neighbor across the street, is playing his drums. I actually like the drumming. I find it comforting. Uncle Tony is banging away again! The neighbors on both sides of me took him to court about the whole thing. I think it was more about some 'territorial old dogs,' myself, but I'll save all that for later.
The Monks have gone silent, and I guess it's time for my boring ass to get up. The computer is so bright, it's literally sucking out all my energy. Remember when the kids sat to close to the TV, and you'd have to shout, "Scootch back! You're going to ruin your eyes!!!" What a great example for that the cp screen is! Yikes.
Here's wishing you some sort of little joy, who knows, maybe they'll put double meat on your sandwich, or maybe you'll find something you lost along time ago. A letter from an old friend. Maybe what you'll find is twenty minutes of uninterrupted reading time.
Comes back again,
your truly
So, how's the world today? It's Friday, you must be happy about that. I had my coffee, and a Spinach Sensation Spinach pocket, and now I'm working on a generic bottle of spring water. We recycle the little plastic bottles, but I think soon we'll move on to one of those giant in house water cooler numbers.
I bought a pre-owned "new" sofa a few weeks ago, which I love, but now as I look around the room, I'd like a new chair, rug, curtains...I have to tell you, mentally, I think I should've been a decorator. What great taste I have! At the same time, I believe everyone thinks they have great taste. Even the person who buys that hunter green burgundy striped sofa, they think they have good taste as well. And all the people who overuse the color tan. So maybe, my lavender-grey room, lime bedding and brown floral sheets are not so tasteful after all.
Am I kidding? Of course they are! I'm awesome! Celebrate the fact that you, out there, have good taste. Because it isn't about other people's impressions at all. It's about what makes you happy.
Years ago, I bought a little old carved corn figurine, little arms and legs, little eyes. I propped him up on my bookshelf, and I like him. I like his little corny yellow head. The shucks are like a little jacket on him.
"What are we going to name him?" The girls want everything named.
"Cornholio," Remember Beavis & Butthead?
"Cornholio?" But they were satisfied.
Wow, The Monks are partying! Maybe that's the grand finale? Maybe not.
My crocheting is going good. I ended up with a huge knot, but cut it out with the nail clippers & carried on. I think I'm going to start crocheting Christmas gifts after I get done with the blanket. It'll take me that long.
I'm looking for some rabbit prints. If anyone is just happening across my blog, and knows where I can find some black and white rabbit prints, leave me a note. For that matter, I'm also looking for a Michel Bernstein print, titled "Friends come in all flavors."
The baby just stopped at the doorway and informed me she did "a big giant poop." Funny.
My ex-brother-in-law, now married to my neighbor across the street, is playing his drums. I actually like the drumming. I find it comforting. Uncle Tony is banging away again! The neighbors on both sides of me took him to court about the whole thing. I think it was more about some 'territorial old dogs,' myself, but I'll save all that for later.
The Monks have gone silent, and I guess it's time for my boring ass to get up. The computer is so bright, it's literally sucking out all my energy. Remember when the kids sat to close to the TV, and you'd have to shout, "Scootch back! You're going to ruin your eyes!!!" What a great example for that the cp screen is! Yikes.
Here's wishing you some sort of little joy, who knows, maybe they'll put double meat on your sandwich, or maybe you'll find something you lost along time ago. A letter from an old friend. Maybe what you'll find is twenty minutes of uninterrupted reading time.
Comes back again,
your truly
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Imus Who? & My Uneventful Day
So I didn't win the Annie auction. My idea was to bid $6.16, becuase surely no one would want to claim the next highest bid...the big $6.66...but sometimes my ideas aren't so great, and that one didn't take.
Rather than bidding on another one, I dug out Bob Marley's Rebel Hop. Good music for the kids to color to.
In the news today- some character named Dan Imus said something stupid on the radio. I haven't the first idea who Imus is. Could care less. This is the first I've heard his name. Seems maybe he said those remarks for publicity, since his face is posted all over the AOL page? I don't know. I think he was fired.
(Can I have his job?)
Also in the news, Madonna is adopting another child. I think it's great. If I had funds, I would adopt too. And Madonna has funds. For that matter, Madonna can adopt me if she wants. (Of course, I'm a package deal, along with me comes my husband, kids, dog, a cat, I guess I could part with the fish.)
I looked on Craigslist again today. I'm coming to the conclusion that the perfect leather chair will never appear on Craigslist for $200, let alone $500. If you want a hunter green & burgundy striped sofa, I think you're in luck. You could probably read this blog three months from now and still be in luck. Sometimes you find a rare beauty, though, so it's worth checking out.
Just make sure you type "Craigslist" not "Craiglist"...leave out the S and Whoops!
Though uneventful, my day has been really good. I ate some honey nut cheerios. A cup of coffee. I picked up some crocheting and tried to remember how I did it. My mother came by and suggested I start over.
"Didn't you show me how to do it this way?"
"No. I don't know what you're doing. It's a mess."
But seeing as it's already 5' x 2', and it's taken me about five years to get that far, I'll just keep at it. I think by the time the baby graduates, I'll have it finished.
Chances Are just came on (the BMarley Chances Are).
I hope wherever you people are, there is sunshine. There is happiness. There is Rasta music. & if not, keep your eyes open. Hope is round the corner!
Love, yours truly
Rather than bidding on another one, I dug out Bob Marley's Rebel Hop. Good music for the kids to color to.
In the news today- some character named Dan Imus said something stupid on the radio. I haven't the first idea who Imus is. Could care less. This is the first I've heard his name. Seems maybe he said those remarks for publicity, since his face is posted all over the AOL page? I don't know. I think he was fired.
(Can I have his job?)
Also in the news, Madonna is adopting another child. I think it's great. If I had funds, I would adopt too. And Madonna has funds. For that matter, Madonna can adopt me if she wants. (Of course, I'm a package deal, along with me comes my husband, kids, dog, a cat, I guess I could part with the fish.)
I looked on Craigslist again today. I'm coming to the conclusion that the perfect leather chair will never appear on Craigslist for $200, let alone $500. If you want a hunter green & burgundy striped sofa, I think you're in luck. You could probably read this blog three months from now and still be in luck. Sometimes you find a rare beauty, though, so it's worth checking out.
Just make sure you type "Craigslist" not "Craiglist"...leave out the S and Whoops!
Though uneventful, my day has been really good. I ate some honey nut cheerios. A cup of coffee. I picked up some crocheting and tried to remember how I did it. My mother came by and suggested I start over.
"Didn't you show me how to do it this way?"
"No. I don't know what you're doing. It's a mess."
But seeing as it's already 5' x 2', and it's taken me about five years to get that far, I'll just keep at it. I think by the time the baby graduates, I'll have it finished.
Chances Are just came on (the BMarley Chances Are).
I hope wherever you people are, there is sunshine. There is happiness. There is Rasta music. & if not, keep your eyes open. Hope is round the corner!
Love, yours truly
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Nomad
Sometimes I wish I were a nomad. Not "hitch-hiker" nomadic, maybe moreso comfortably nomadic. I can envision a year or so in Hawaii (my kids are hula obsessed...), maybe fly over, rent an RV in and spend a couple more years in Australia. Eat croc burgers if there is such a thing. Take little day excursions. Watch my babies pick up cute little oz accents, then on to the next place.
I'd see London. I'd see France; the parts I've not seen, Rocky old towns like Ez...or cross quicksand in a touristy excursion, with my children giggling all the way to Mont St Michel. (I suppose then they have to behave.)
Would I grow old and wonder where the years went? I don't suppose it would matter where I am, as those thoughts creep up on me already. Time goes by fast anyhow. You may as well make it eventful.
Why didn't I go to college? Why didn't I venture anywhere at all?
Maybe I'll get that letter this week. The letter that tells me Mr. George Nicholson would be delighted to represent my book. Not the letter that says Thank you for considering us, however...
Not that letter. The other one. The one that says, "Party- forget about the tuna helper! Tonight eat out. Maybe even get the steak! You deserve the steak, because you've done something grand." For the record, I don't actually put tuna in the tuna helper. I use canned ham. I didn't want you to think I was that nasty...Well, really who cares what you think?
Isn't every blogger out there in all honesty only typing to themselves?
I got it all out for today. I think I'm going to get on Ebay and buy the kids the Annie soundtrack. Today I overheard Naomi playing the Jimmy Buffett Christmas cd again. Seeing how its April, she may need some new material.
Thanks for reading my wee lil blog. i wish you well! your truly
I'd see London. I'd see France; the parts I've not seen, Rocky old towns like Ez...or cross quicksand in a touristy excursion, with my children giggling all the way to Mont St Michel. (I suppose then they have to behave.)
Would I grow old and wonder where the years went? I don't suppose it would matter where I am, as those thoughts creep up on me already. Time goes by fast anyhow. You may as well make it eventful.
Why didn't I go to college? Why didn't I venture anywhere at all?
Maybe I'll get that letter this week. The letter that tells me Mr. George Nicholson would be delighted to represent my book. Not the letter that says Thank you for considering us, however...
Not that letter. The other one. The one that says, "Party- forget about the tuna helper! Tonight eat out. Maybe even get the steak! You deserve the steak, because you've done something grand." For the record, I don't actually put tuna in the tuna helper. I use canned ham. I didn't want you to think I was that nasty...Well, really who cares what you think?
Isn't every blogger out there in all honesty only typing to themselves?
I got it all out for today. I think I'm going to get on Ebay and buy the kids the Annie soundtrack. Today I overheard Naomi playing the Jimmy Buffett Christmas cd again. Seeing how its April, she may need some new material.
Thanks for reading my wee lil blog. i wish you well! your truly
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I guess I kinda jumped into the blogging world without much of an introduction. Who am I?
I'm your every day average jane. I'm the lady in line behind you at the Target. The lady that goes to the grocery store and buys a dozen boxes of Spinach Sensations Spinach pockets, a couple melons, and flavored Creme Brulee coffee creamers full of hydrogenated stuff that I know is bad, but can't break away from.
Sometimes I'm the lady that leaves her turn signal on for a few miles too many, so my husband says. I tend to look on the bright side, I don't smoke, swear, or tan. Boring, really.
But here's the tricky part. I don't want you to like me. I'm likeable, that's my nature. But there's always that someone that thinks you're someone you really aren't, and when you show your true self, they think you're an idiot. Someone whom you befriend, and then feel you need to hide every aspect or belief to please. High school is over. Here I am.
1. I'll take any Democrat in 08. Any or all three of the front runners...although, for shock factor, I feel that Hilary and Obama would piss off the most Republicans, and the idea of that brings me joy. I also feel Bill CLinton would be an excellent First Lady. He was, in my opinion, a decent President. Years ago, when I told people in my distant family I voted for Gore, a slew of aborted and beheaded baby photo emails came my way. Refrain from that, if it's possible. I guess that moves us on to the next topic.
2. Christian Conservatives. I'm not one. I was actually raised with New Age religion, reincarnation, and am a member of a Unitarian congregation. I guess that means I'm also Pro-choice, pro-santa claus, and Who does it hurt if a man wants to marry another man? Not me. Love is universal. God made every leaf, every spirit, every religion. Maybe he made them in order for people to work out the differences, I don't know. There is some truth to all religion, But the God I believe in created everything. All of it. There's no power greater, yet nothing more misunderstood. I don't believe in Hell. And the saved- thing, well, we are all saved. Even Muslims, Jews, Buddhists. Even atheists. Let your good intentions guide you. God is too big to separate. God is love, and energy. I've spent too long being preached to, I guess I had to get that out...before you like me, then learn I'm not like you. Rather than me hide something, or you befriending my wee blog, then having to take it all back- Here it is!
3. French people are not rude. They are honest. My mother is French. I love the French, and dislike the idea that so many feel so free to express how terrible the French are. I still get emails- boycott France! France was cowardly during the War! The American's had to bail them out! Yikes. That was decades ago. Back then, white Americans made african Americans eat in separate restaurants, lynched them, put them on the back of the bus. Who was worse. We want to say the French were worse, probably because we can. We have to judge somebody, don't we? Stay present. People are generally good.
4. Maybe this is enough for today. I hope that you have a sweet, sweet day. Be kind to a stranger. Don't fret over what may never come. I think tomarrow is going to be pretty awesome. yours truly
I'm your every day average jane. I'm the lady in line behind you at the Target. The lady that goes to the grocery store and buys a dozen boxes of Spinach Sensations Spinach pockets, a couple melons, and flavored Creme Brulee coffee creamers full of hydrogenated stuff that I know is bad, but can't break away from.
Sometimes I'm the lady that leaves her turn signal on for a few miles too many, so my husband says. I tend to look on the bright side, I don't smoke, swear, or tan. Boring, really.
But here's the tricky part. I don't want you to like me. I'm likeable, that's my nature. But there's always that someone that thinks you're someone you really aren't, and when you show your true self, they think you're an idiot. Someone whom you befriend, and then feel you need to hide every aspect or belief to please. High school is over. Here I am.
1. I'll take any Democrat in 08. Any or all three of the front runners...although, for shock factor, I feel that Hilary and Obama would piss off the most Republicans, and the idea of that brings me joy. I also feel Bill CLinton would be an excellent First Lady. He was, in my opinion, a decent President. Years ago, when I told people in my distant family I voted for Gore, a slew of aborted and beheaded baby photo emails came my way. Refrain from that, if it's possible. I guess that moves us on to the next topic.
2. Christian Conservatives. I'm not one. I was actually raised with New Age religion, reincarnation, and am a member of a Unitarian congregation. I guess that means I'm also Pro-choice, pro-santa claus, and Who does it hurt if a man wants to marry another man? Not me. Love is universal. God made every leaf, every spirit, every religion. Maybe he made them in order for people to work out the differences, I don't know. There is some truth to all religion, But the God I believe in created everything. All of it. There's no power greater, yet nothing more misunderstood. I don't believe in Hell. And the saved- thing, well, we are all saved. Even Muslims, Jews, Buddhists. Even atheists. Let your good intentions guide you. God is too big to separate. God is love, and energy. I've spent too long being preached to, I guess I had to get that out...before you like me, then learn I'm not like you. Rather than me hide something, or you befriending my wee blog, then having to take it all back- Here it is!
3. French people are not rude. They are honest. My mother is French. I love the French, and dislike the idea that so many feel so free to express how terrible the French are. I still get emails- boycott France! France was cowardly during the War! The American's had to bail them out! Yikes. That was decades ago. Back then, white Americans made african Americans eat in separate restaurants, lynched them, put them on the back of the bus. Who was worse. We want to say the French were worse, probably because we can. We have to judge somebody, don't we? Stay present. People are generally good.
4. Maybe this is enough for today. I hope that you have a sweet, sweet day. Be kind to a stranger. Don't fret over what may never come. I think tomarrow is going to be pretty awesome. yours truly
Monday, April 9, 2007
Cure for Husband's toilet seat habits...
I've been married almost eleven years. Together five before that. What's the secret? Hmmm, I don't know. Maybe we don't get bored easily. Maybe it's just that neither of us like drama. I could say love, but love is no secret- all marriages start out with that. There has to be an underlying thing, something that stays long after all the chemical newness has settled. Maybe I just married the best guy around- who knows? My husband says he's learned a cure all phrase..."If she's happy, I'm happy."
(Notice the phrase isn't "She makes me happy." If you're relying on someone outside of You to make you happy, you may never 'get' to happy. But if you tend to be happy, that makes life a little easier for the person you've chosen to spend your life with.)
This also means no senseless complaining.
When we first moved in together, Steven would leave the toilet seat up. I bought an annoying little alarm, light sensitive, that stuck to the seat. After they stay up for too long an amount of time, it starts chirping. He hated it. He hated it, and the toilet seat, I discovered, was not really that big of a deal to me either, so it came off. I know how to put the seat down.
Over a dozen years later, my husband religiously checks the seat before bed. I walked past the john tonite, and closed the lid myself. Was the cure to the toilet seat my complaining about it? Nope. My getting over it and him wanting to make me happy? Nope, not that either.
The cure to getting that seat down, ladies, came along with our dog, a 100 pound german shepherd, who, for some reason, prefers the water in the toilet to the stuff in his bowl. Seems as soon as he's lapped up a tank full off water, he whines by my sweeties bedside to go out.
(Complaining from the dog sounds entirely different from wife complaining.)
Forget about the toilet seat. It's really no big deal. Someone somewhere has to use a lard bucket. If you're reading this blog, it probably ain't you!
wishing you every happiness- yours truly
(Notice the phrase isn't "She makes me happy." If you're relying on someone outside of You to make you happy, you may never 'get' to happy. But if you tend to be happy, that makes life a little easier for the person you've chosen to spend your life with.)
This also means no senseless complaining.
When we first moved in together, Steven would leave the toilet seat up. I bought an annoying little alarm, light sensitive, that stuck to the seat. After they stay up for too long an amount of time, it starts chirping. He hated it. He hated it, and the toilet seat, I discovered, was not really that big of a deal to me either, so it came off. I know how to put the seat down.
Over a dozen years later, my husband religiously checks the seat before bed. I walked past the john tonite, and closed the lid myself. Was the cure to the toilet seat my complaining about it? Nope. My getting over it and him wanting to make me happy? Nope, not that either.
The cure to getting that seat down, ladies, came along with our dog, a 100 pound german shepherd, who, for some reason, prefers the water in the toilet to the stuff in his bowl. Seems as soon as he's lapped up a tank full off water, he whines by my sweeties bedside to go out.
(Complaining from the dog sounds entirely different from wife complaining.)
Forget about the toilet seat. It's really no big deal. Someone somewhere has to use a lard bucket. If you're reading this blog, it probably ain't you!
wishing you every happiness- yours truly
Easter Ham 07
Happy Easter, everyone!
We decided (and invited) ourselves to Steven's brothers yesterday. While thinking of what to make, Steven speaks up.
"We're bringing the ham for Easter."
"What?"
"I already volunteered for us to bring the Honeybaked Ham,"
"A ham? Are you sure? That's expensive..."
I wondered why he'd volunteer a ham. We are by far, not wealthy people. Our checkbook was already about $200 in the red, and there's nothing better than a nice sweet potato casserole, is there? But no. So I called the honeybaked ham company, and made arrangements to pick up our $60 ham.
We drove through Atlanta Easter traffic, our girls clad in sweaters and jeans. The Easter outfits wouldn't fly, due to the 22 degree weather.
(My hydrangeas! My crepe myrtles! Crud.)
So we went South to a little farm in Homer. And We ate the ham. We drank Sweet tea, like only a Georgian can make and keep stocked up in gallon jugs. (In Florida, it's only unsweet, folks! You would think they'd know that you have to add the sugar while its hot, otherwise you just get floating sugar in unsweet tea...) We had a great day. Naomi raced her cousins, & Shanna stayed up on the gate, bonding with Padme, their palomino.
There were baby chicks, puppies; there were kittens born that day. Hens in trance, laying eggs. Wooly mules. Freeze tag. Boys and men talking about handmade knives, how much honey the bees produced that year, staying up all night, lighting fires under the orchards trees, all in vain.
The sun setting, it was time to head for home. We stopped at a Starbucks drive thru, got a couple Toffee Nut Lattes, and made the two hour drive back. The girls babbled until they fell asleep in the back.
Sometimes Wealth can be deceiving. In my town, old tin box singlewides abound. On the way home from school, there's an aluminum can of a trailer off a corner lot. Spring and summer months, the door is swung open, probably due to a lack of A/C. No screen door, no porch, but fenced in front, a giant black horse. A horse than watches passers by, a little streak of white across his nose. We ride by, and Shanna waves. Sometimes Wealth is the big black horse in the yard. I doubt too many people would even dispute that.
We get home and let the dog in. Sometimes wealth is the dog, happy to come in and see you. The dog that never chews anything, and can hold his bladder all night long while he sleeps beside your bed. If you know a dog like that, you are dog wealthy, like us.
And every time, Wealth is your children, too sleepy to walk, their heads on your shoulders, while you hold them with one arm, and dig for your keys with the other.
Today, I sliced off the leftover meat from the "cadillac of all hams," and the bone went in a pot, along with a bag of dried pinto beans. My kind of wealth isn't too bad.
Here's wishing all of you every Health, Wealth, and Happiness...
Much love- Kat Lee
We decided (and invited) ourselves to Steven's brothers yesterday. While thinking of what to make, Steven speaks up.
"We're bringing the ham for Easter."
"What?"
"I already volunteered for us to bring the Honeybaked Ham,"
"A ham? Are you sure? That's expensive..."
I wondered why he'd volunteer a ham. We are by far, not wealthy people. Our checkbook was already about $200 in the red, and there's nothing better than a nice sweet potato casserole, is there? But no. So I called the honeybaked ham company, and made arrangements to pick up our $60 ham.
We drove through Atlanta Easter traffic, our girls clad in sweaters and jeans. The Easter outfits wouldn't fly, due to the 22 degree weather.
(My hydrangeas! My crepe myrtles! Crud.)
So we went South to a little farm in Homer. And We ate the ham. We drank Sweet tea, like only a Georgian can make and keep stocked up in gallon jugs. (In Florida, it's only unsweet, folks! You would think they'd know that you have to add the sugar while its hot, otherwise you just get floating sugar in unsweet tea...) We had a great day. Naomi raced her cousins, & Shanna stayed up on the gate, bonding with Padme, their palomino.
There were baby chicks, puppies; there were kittens born that day. Hens in trance, laying eggs. Wooly mules. Freeze tag. Boys and men talking about handmade knives, how much honey the bees produced that year, staying up all night, lighting fires under the orchards trees, all in vain.
The sun setting, it was time to head for home. We stopped at a Starbucks drive thru, got a couple Toffee Nut Lattes, and made the two hour drive back. The girls babbled until they fell asleep in the back.
Sometimes Wealth can be deceiving. In my town, old tin box singlewides abound. On the way home from school, there's an aluminum can of a trailer off a corner lot. Spring and summer months, the door is swung open, probably due to a lack of A/C. No screen door, no porch, but fenced in front, a giant black horse. A horse than watches passers by, a little streak of white across his nose. We ride by, and Shanna waves. Sometimes Wealth is the big black horse in the yard. I doubt too many people would even dispute that.
We get home and let the dog in. Sometimes wealth is the dog, happy to come in and see you. The dog that never chews anything, and can hold his bladder all night long while he sleeps beside your bed. If you know a dog like that, you are dog wealthy, like us.
And every time, Wealth is your children, too sleepy to walk, their heads on your shoulders, while you hold them with one arm, and dig for your keys with the other.
Today, I sliced off the leftover meat from the "cadillac of all hams," and the bone went in a pot, along with a bag of dried pinto beans. My kind of wealth isn't too bad.
Here's wishing all of you every Health, Wealth, and Happiness...
Much love- Kat Lee
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