The update

Well, we're at Chad's parents now. So I thought I'd do a quick update.

Pics: There will be quite a few, but not as many as I wanted. I wasn't paying attention to my battery, wasted a lot of photos on nothing (I only got one, One!, photo of Nephew Oliver.) and then my battery was totally gone, the camera wouldn’t even stay on anymore. But I got quite a few random shots of festival employees or goers all dressed up.

Katy's TKD test: Katy had the worst luck driving back home. First, on Sunday, the left front tire was smoking. So we took it to a shop early Monday morning and they said oil leak, $700 please. We said, um, no, thanks for trying, and bought her lots of oil. It wasn't leaking THAT fast. She was supposed to check it frequently and add if it got lower. So she got going late and missed her college English class. Then she stopped to check the oil (as directed) turned off the car and it refused to start again. Turns out it was a completely unrelated problem, the battery crapped out. So then she was running even later and missed her TKD test. And, as the cherry on the top she was caught speeding, got her first ticket and owes $150! What an awful trip home!!

As for the Renaissance Festival, it was a blast. We saw Irish dancers. (Men with bells on their legs, swinging sticks, I was so impressed. How secure as a man do you have to be to belong to an all male dancing club and dress up funny like that to preserve your heritage?) Jousting, plenty of wenches, jugglers... There wasn't enough time to see it all, and we were there more than four hours. One of the best things was a petting zoo and elephant rides for Oliver. Katy took him for an elephant ride, he's 2 and I thought he might be too scared, but he loved it. He's seen pics of elephants but this was the real thing. After they got off Katy said, "Say thank you." Oliver: "Thank you Elephant."

I enjoyed it as well, one of the elephants chained in the middle, was stretching his trunk as far as he could, stretching to reach the people at the fence, who were feeding him grass. So I ran like a crazy woman and reached out my hand. He reached out his trunk and took about half my hand inside the lips of his trunk, like a kiss or tasting me with his lips. Of course my hand got all dirty and elephant snotty, everyone around me was "gross!"ing but I thought it was GLORIOUS. How many people get kissed by and elephant? Yeah, me!

Well, I'd best go be sociable now.

We're off to see the wenches

OK, so that doesn’t work so well unless you are reading my mind and singing it along to the tune of Wizard of Oz. “The Wonderful Wenches of Oz.”

Point being that hubby and I are leaving later on today (still have to get that sleep in) for Minneapolis where we plan to hang out with my sister, nephew and brother in law.

But that has nothing to do with the wonderful wenches. The Wenches come in at the Renaissance festival, where we plan to spend part of our time. I lived in Minneapolis for three years and never made it there, now we’re going. Chad’s going for the jousting, I just want to see some wenches. The fun thing about wenches is that if you are ahem, smaller on top than you wish you were, the wenches have those lovely squeezey blouses that make everything … billow over the top. Nuff said.

But of course, the wenches are just a side trip. The main point is to spend time with the family. Katy, the 17-year-old sister whose taking her TKD (don’t know how to actually spell that martial art, but TKD is what all the cool kids call it when bloging) test Monday night is coming too. It will be good to see Jose and Penny’s new home (they just bought it late this summer, no more renting!) and spoil Oliver for a while. Of course, Tio Chad will get most of the boy’s attention, he’s fascinated with Tio Chad. That’s OK, I don’t mind. It’s very cute.

Well, that’s all for a while folks. We’re taking a week and a half and are spending the first six days with family, first mine, then his. So we’ll be gone for a while. But perhaps I can get a little bloging in while at the in-laws… we’ll see.

10-year reunion

Yep. It's almost that time. Oct. 1 is my high school reunion. I can't believe it's been that long.

The catch is that my main friend from high school days. A couple years after graduation we got into a stupid fight and haven't spoke since. I won't go into details on the Internet, but it's been seven years.

So I decided I have to call her to break the ice. I don't want the reunion to be the first time we talk in seven years. But I'm not looking forward to it. I'm hoping she'll warm up eventually, and we can just pretend it didn't happen. Maybe not enough to be friends again but enough to make the reunion OK.

But how do you start a conversation like that? Any tips?

the sad addiction

Farore, the Goddess of Courage


Which of the Three Goddesses (from The Legend of Zelda) are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Umm... no.

What dysfunctional care bear am I?


Gay Bear


Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Funny, but not even close. I also did that what color crayon am I and I kept getting menstral red, no matter what color panties I said I was wearing.

Yeah, I know, just stop taking the quizzes. It's mildly amusing.

The oddest thing

(Odd. Just so all ya'll know, odd is one of my favorite words. It's so ... odd. It even looks odd. With that, my real post:)

It's so funny what topics prompt a whole bunch of comments. If I write about plants or my cats, not necessarily a lot of comments. I wrote my last comment totally half asleep, in that I-can't-sleep-but-that-doesn’t-stop-me-from-feeling-exhausted way. It was kind of silly, about this random song and a tv show none of you have heard of. And I got tons of comments. (not that it's a competition, I'm just observing.)

Which moves me to go on to talk about plants and my cats.

Plants: Our plum tree was getting ripe on Sunday and I keep forgetting to get out there and harvest what I can. Last year we forgot about it and when I remembered there was literally four plums left. Two for me and two for Chad. This year I want to eat a few before they rot and fall to the ground. (Though, likely not in that order.)

Cats: They rule our home. We are not the king and queen of our castle, no, this home is run by a queen (Precious) and her princess/court fool (Sylvester). In the latest of, yes we do hold your reins, human!, we've discovered that they prefer not to ever drink from their cat water dish, if possible. No, the preferred methods are: 1. Drinking from the tiny pool of water in the bathtub where the drip collects slightly. 2. Licking the bottom of the bathroom facet. (Please, please, if you visit, let it run for a while before using the water!)

But the ultimate water trough is 3. Any glass left partially full and unattended for a millisecond. Dip the paw in, lick it off. Repeat. Fortunately for them, we tend to fill glasses and leave them sitting, by the computer, on the end table by the couch. But even if we were neat people and put away our glasses immediately, they'd just continue to wait until we aren't looking and contaminate the glass we are currently drinking out of. Needless to say, we wash an awful lot of glasses in this house.

a later

So.

I can't sleep again. I should spend the time posting photos, since I know that's what all ya'll want. Too lazy, however.

I watched this new show tonight (is it really new, or am I so behind and not with the new stuff, I'm just seeing reruns and am too clueless to know it? I don't know. Humor me.)

(That aside was so long I need a new paragraph and to start my thought over. Yes, people, they do pay me to write everyday.)

So, the new show: "Wanted." Not to bad, I happen to like cop shows amoung the best, so I like it. Tonight what caught my attention was a song they played, however. I went on a mission and found a place to email TNT questions, and hopefully they will answer me. Gotta hear that song again and have no idea who sings it or what it's called. I figured out the name of the episode so hopefully someone actually reads and answers their email, if so I should get an answer.

Night all!

Acid trip

OK.

I don’t know what I did, but I had a colorful description written about how I’ve been coughing for a month and a half, went to the doctor and turns out it’s like an acid reflux thing, acid eating away at my linings and making me cough.

Then my witty prose went bye-bye for no apparent reason.

Well, yes, I somehow clumsily hit some strange combo of buttons that ultimately pulled the plug. But I have no idea how I did it, how not to repeat it and still couldn’t do it again if I was paid to. Unless I was paid not to.

Anyway. Don’t really feel like re-writing my story, but you get the gist of it. The highlight was: the doc gave me a three-week free drug sample (gotta love that!) the purpose of which is to kick my overeager stomach juice into submission and let my linings heal. If you want a more precise, actually accurate and less colorful description, YOU ARE READING THE WRONG BLOG.

Or, as Heather would say: blob. I love my blob. It’s so … so, blob.

In other news: I requested a Burpee seed catalogue (hee, hee, Burpee. Just getting that one out of the way.) I spent tonight highlighting those I want that will grow here and writing out lists to see what might look good where. Of course, being cheap, I chose all seeds when possible. Now, as I think of it, I really can’t actually imagine I’d be clever enough to plant 10 different kinds of flowers from seed. Not smart, greenthumby or ambitious enough. Plus, I’d have to buy a bunch of soil, pots and find a place to put them where they’d get sun. Good luck with that. Not cool to spend money on seeds because I’d be saving money then get pretty little (empty) pots of dirt for my trouble. I can just see that happening.

Perhaps I will rethink the seed thing, just buy one or two seed packets and do the rest from plants. Yeah, sounds good.

Unless I do nothing, because when it comes right down to it, planting plants means weeding. And let’s face it, I’m hardly getting that done with the plants I have this summer.

Ah, well, it was fun to dream anyway.

Supercat!!

Just as the “sheep” incident, I absolutely can’t describe this in a way as to convey how FRIGGIN’ HILARIOUS it was.

And, yet, I will try anyway. I’m stubborn like that.

Last night I was opening a present from my best friend (thanks Jen!) at home. She’d cleverly turned one of those brown paper lunch bags into a gift bag by covering it with pretty paper on two sides, stamping it and using coordinating tissue paper.

I took out the loot and set the bag on the floor beside me. Sylvester immediately pushed her head inside up past her armpits. Now, this isn’t unusual. Our cats, as all cats, love bags and boxes. They must investigate. We’ve been known to leave paper bags lying on our floor for weeks, just so they can take turns getting inside while the other one pounces on their head aggressively. They love it, and we, for obvious comic relief reasons, shamelessly encourage it.

The funny part about what happened last night is the size disparity. When Sylvester was little she could have climbed in the tiny lunch bag, turned around and laid down, peering out like it was her own personal cave. Now that she’s nearly full grown, but still thinks she’s a kitten, she had to really cram herself in to get inside that far.

Plus, the momentum of pushing herself inside carried her halfway across the room on her first attempt. Head and front legs inside the bag and back legs scrambling in her mad mission to get ALL THE WAY INSIDE. My screeches of laughter and “Chad, look, look!” must have encouraged her because she emerged, blinked at me, and tried it a second time. But the third time was her crowning glory.

Yes, my cat is a rocket scientist. Yes, she knowingly and willingly shoved her head inside a paper bag three times. Yes, she ran across the room and shumucked her head against the wall with a bag on her head. Yes, I laughed at her until my sides hurt.

Reverance

So today in church I nearly lost it in our pew. Giggling, making a scene, damn near snorting through my nose.

We were singing a hymn along with the rest of the (sedate) congregation. I don't know if you guys know: "Praise Him! Praise Him!"

The chorus goes: "Praise Him, praise Him, tell of his excellent greatness. Praise him ever in joyful song."

Anyway, we were singing along to these words:

"Love unbounded, wonderful deep and strong."

Without warning, I hear somebody near me make this WONDERFUL lyrical mistake.

"Wonderful SHEEP and strong."

GOTTA love it.

Wildflowers

I'm so excited, I now have five different kinds of wildflowers growing from seed in one of my flowerbeds. I also have a lot of weeds since I haven’t been sure what is a wildflower and what is a weed. But more are flowering everyday, my favorites are some muliti colored poppy looking things. I’m going to try to get a biologist guy I know to identify them for me. Maybe pictures later…

I also have a Shasta daisy in there (not wild) and a golden rod and black-eyed Susan that I transplanted from the family land in Grygla. They are wild too, and I hope they live and reproduce next year. I would assume they are perennials.

Wildflowers are my favorite!!

Link a dink

Ok, so my friend cg got me hooked on

Heather's site

and ya'll simply must read it. It's totally hilarious. She's, like seriously, a total blogging celebrity. She's been interviewed and in newspapers, and TV, like a lot, from what I can figure. Click on
"I'm Heather B. Armstrong.
This is my website."
on the right top corner and read how she got fired for talking about work on her blog. Which is how she got famous. She also just got back from a BlogHer conference, which is, apparently, where all the cool blogging women go. Wonder if they have a BlogHimor, better yet, BlogBoy conference.

Anyway, I love her site, Dooce.

dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce, dooce,

Now maybe a bunch of people will google her and come to my site. 'cumon, comment on my site. You know you want to.

Anyway.

It just blows my mind how big this blog thing is. How many cool blogs there are and blogs that actually make the news and stuff. How you could never, ever keep up with all the cool ones, and how you shouldn't probably try (I don't) or you'll die a pasty, sad, emancipated gnome that hasn't left the house since you started blogging.

And that's enough blathering on forever.

my husband, the pre-vert

So my sister gave me a cookbook this weekend for part of my birthday present. Chad was flipping through it and immediately zeroed in on a certain recipe. The cookbook is all chicken recipes. Still, I don't know if this was exactly called for.

On pg. 12 of my new "Essentials Chicken" cookbook is a recipe for:

Cock-a-leekie soup

It calls for chicken, hence the first part of the name. And leeks, hence the second part. Still, they mayhaps should have rethunk that name.

Ya think?