Help me

  • I don’t think this is what they mean when they say, “Drill now!”

    Yesterday morning was the kind of day that made me want to walk out on the back porch and say “Hello Fall! Welcome back my old friend! You are delightful!”

    After I got Caroline dressed and off to school, I took Scout and Bruiser for a long walk and didn’t even listen to my iPod because I just wanted to soak up all the nature and the fall-like temps.

    Also, there have been reports of some shady characters loitering around our neighborhood (Canadian booty cleavage man possibly included) and P basically told me I’d be a fool if I went walking with my iPod because it limits my ability to sense an impending attack.

    So I enjoyed all the nature as opposed to a diverse musical mix that includes Chris Tomlin and Justin Timberlake.

    I returned home just as P was getting back from an appointment with the dentist. Last Christmas, P’s dentist informed him that he needed a titanium implant and a tooth carved out of diamonds to replace an antiquated crown that had broken loose more times than we could remember, including one incredibly romantic evening when we’d just started dating and the crown came out in his Milkdud.

    To tell the truth, I’m not sure if the implant and new tooth are carved out of diamonds. It’s just an assumption based on the cost.

    So about six months ago, P got the implant and yesterday was the day he finally got his new tooth.

    When he walked in the back door, I asked how the new tooth felt and he said, “It’s a little sore, but I’m more worried about my finger.”

    Well sure.

    “What do you mean? What’s wrong with your finger?”

    Apparently after they put in the new tooth, P asked the nurse if he could see what the tooth looked like. She handed him a mirror and walked out of the room. After he looked at the new tooth, he attempted to set the mirror on a table next to the dentist’s chair but the mirror slipped and he tried to grab it. As he grabbed it, his middle finger landed right on the dentist’s drill which drilled far enough into his finger that the drill became stuck.

    It was a million to one shot.

    The dentist was able to pull the drill out of his finger, but needless to say the finger did not escape without some injury.

    Anyway, last night we were sitting around and P mentioned that I was probably going to need a new pair of comfortable boots for my trip to the Dominican Republic.

    I got so excited because how often does your husband mention that you might need a new pair of boots?

    So I showed him this pair that I’ve had my eye on for the last year or so.

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    Evidently they aren’t exactly what he had in mind.

    He seems to think I’m going to need more of a practical, hiking, outdoorsy type of boot.

    But what does he know? He drilled his own finger yesterday.

    Just in case he’s right, I thought I’d ask for some help. Do y’all have any suggestions for comfortable, practical shoes that would work for the trip?

    Preferably something not too hideous?

    Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated, as well as any other useful hints for traveling to a third world country.

    Muchas gracias, peeps.

  • Supper, supper, suppertime

    I’m sitting here at the pool sweltering in the heat and wondering why I thought it was such a good idea to bring my computer.

    Truth be told, I was curious if our pool really had wi-fi or if they just made the claim because what kind of moron brings their computer to the pool?

    Turns out, the wi-fi is for real.

    So is the heat.

    And, apparently, so is the moron.

    I chose not to wear my bathing suit today because I am tired of the pool and all the chlorine. My hair is about the consistency of straw, except not as soft and silky.

    Anyway, after Caroline’s swimming lesson is over, we are headed home to bask in the A/C. I may even break out the craft bag in my desperation to stay inside.

    Nothing reeks of desperation more than the willing distribution of glitter and glue to someone whose life motto is if a little is good, then A LOT is even better.

    My biggest issue with the heat, other than the fact that it causes me to walk around with a bright red face and foul temper, is that it makes me want to run far, far away from the kitchen. By the end of the day it is just too hot to live, much less cook.

    I just want to get a spoon, a quart of Dreyer’s Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream and call it a day.

    There are two problems with this.

    1. I would prefer to not gain fifty pounds over the course of the summer.

    2. My people seem to want real food. With side dishes.

    They are so demanding with all their “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner? Are we having hot dogs again?”

    It takes all the joy out of my Dreyer’s Ice Cream.

    Oh I kid. Nothing could really take the joy out of that. Because did I mention the chocolate and the peanut butter?

    The problem is that when I look through my recipes and assorted cookbooks, nothing sounds good. Meatloaf in the summer is just wrong. Gravy in the summer seems unnatural. Frying something in hot oil seems redundant to the day I’ve already spent at the pool.

    This is where y’all come in. I’m going to put up a Mr. Linky and would love it if you’d share your favorite summertime recipe on your blog and link it back here. If you don’t have a blog, then you can leave your recipe in the comments.

    It doesn’t have to be sophisticated or complicated. In fact, the easier the better has always been my motto.

    Not really, but it is now.

    So, share the recipe love. Help a girl out.

    Because, otherwise, P is going to ban me from buying anymore hot dogs at the HEB.

  • I hear that reading expands your mind

    This Friday P and I are heading to Florida for a little vacation. One of our former students from Campus Life is getting married and he asked P to perform the ceremony.

    In case y’all didn’t know, P is a true renaissance man. Not only can he landscape your yard, but he is also a licensed minister which comes in very handy for those folks who may want to increase the curb appeal of their home and renew their vows at the same time.

    Happens all the time.

    Anyway, we’ll be in Florida for several days. Days that will involve staying in a house right on the beach and sleeping in until whenever I dang well please.

    I know I’ll miss Caroline but I honestly don’t think she’ll notice I’m gone, what with all the chocolate donut consumption and unlimited swimming that will take place at Mimi and Bop’s house.

    So I’m going to have a lot of time to just relax and, if memory serves, there is nothing better to do while lying on the beach than to read a good book. I mean I’m bringing my computer with me, because it is a part of me with its happy little apple that glows at me night and day as if to say HELLO FRIEND!, but I don’t think computers and sand are a good mix, so I’ll need something for the beach.

    I went to dinner with my Bible study group last night and we discussed a few good books. Actually, they discussed a few books and I just nodded my head because I haven’t read anything since the television writers came back from being on strike and who needs books when there are new episodes of “The Office”?

    The girls talked about “The Red Tent” which is loosely based on the Bible story of Rachel and Leah. It is about how women would all congregate in the red tent during their time of the month. I haven’t read the book, but I think the red tent is a brilliant idea.

    Why don’t we do that now? Why not throw us all in a hotel room somewhere with a bellman sliding constant trays of Ghiradelli Double Chocolate Brownies under the door? Just stock that room with some kleenex for all the irrational crying and a couple of cases of Midol. Oh! And maybe some of those sock’em bop’em giant foam bats like George and Weesie Jefferson hit each other with during that episode where they went to marriage counseling. We could all eat our chocolate, cry, and then beat the heck out of something with those bats to channel our inner hormonal rage.

    That would be golden.

    None of this is my point, by the way.

    I need a few good books to take with me to Florida. The only catch is that I’m not really interested in learning anything. I’m looking for light reading that will make me laugh or cry or both over the course of a few days.

    And I don’t like mysteries or anything scary.

    I have enough of both residing in my refrigerator.

    Since I’m asking y’all for book recommendations, I’ll give you one in return. The last book I read was “The Middle Place” by Kelly Corrigan. I adored this book. In fact, I wish I hadn’t read it yet so that I could read it on vacation. It’s the true story about the journey the author takes after being diagnosed with breast cancer at 37 years old with two young daughters, but it’s wrapped up in stories from her childhood and especially her relationship with her father. It’s beautiful.

    So, now it’s your turn.

    What do you suggest?

  • Questions about questions

    So, I have a little favor to ask of y’all today.

    I am in need of some information but first I will share my thoughts on something very important.

    I don’t know that there is a show on television that annoys me more than “CSI: Miami”. Unfortunately, P discovered it comes on at 10:00 every night and now I spend that hour trying to avert my eyes from the television lest I see dead people. It’s like my own private version of “The Sixth Sense”.

    The problem is that no matter how much I look away, I can’t block out the bad dialogue. But on the plus side, P and I have both adopted the phrase, “It’s a little thing I like to call…MURDER ONE”, which we use completely out of context and at inappropriate times. It was uttered by David Caruso in a bit of acting that should be shown to acting students everywhere in a class called “How Not To Act”.

    That has nothing to do with my favor, but it needed to be said.

    In about two months, I’ll find myself standing in front of a group of people who would like to know more about blogs and I probably need to tell them more than “A blog is something that can be found on the internet. It is an online journal for all the world to see on this marvel they call the World Wide Web. People can access this World Wide Web by using a computer, which is an even better invention than the Brother Word Processor that I used in college.”

    Because as thrilling as that presentation would be, it’s probably not the most critical piece of information unless I am talking to a group of people that have been cryogenically frozen since 1972.

    Here’s where y’all come in. What questions would you ask about blogging if you could ask anything?

    What would you want to know? Do you have any blog pet peeves? Did you start out blogging with a goal in mind or just for fun? How do you measure your blog’s success? Is it traffic, comments, or just writing something that you feel good about it?

    I mean, I’m not saying that I have the answers. I would just like to be prepared for all the questions that may leave me standing at the front of a room looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

    Which, if that happens, I’ll totally resort to my new phrase and say, “It’s a little thing I like to call…MURDER ONE.”

    Because it always seems to work out well for David Caruso.

  • Oh, I have a question

    So, I’ve pretty much hit some kind of creative wall. Either that or life has become so boring in the last few days that I cannot figure out a way to make it interesting.

    In fact, I told Boomama yesterday that if things don’t pick up I’ll either have to shut the blog down or start making stuff up.

    Clearly, I’d choose option B and just make stuff up.

    To give you an example of my outstanding lack of anything interesting to say, here is what we did this weekend:

    1. I poured some vinegar into my bathroom sinks and let it soak to remove the hard water deposits.

    Fascinating.

    2. P revamped our outdoor illumination system and our home can now be seen from outer space. The FBI uses less wattage to perform interrogations.

    Which I know from all those times I’ve been interrogated.

    3. The time change screwed up our schedule and I slept too late to make it to church on Sunday morning.

    Actually, P woke me up about five minutes before we needed to walk out the door to make it on time, but since I am not Jane Jetson, it wasn’t going to happen.

    4. I went to Borders and bought a new, hot pink notebook to record all my thoughts.

    It has about 100 pages, which should be plenty.

    5. I cleaned out my closet and got out all my spring shoes.

    So, basically, SNOOZE.

    I realize there have been times in the past where I’ve created an entire post out of cleaning my closet, but it’s been done to death. Plus, it’s not nearly so interesting when I haven’t added anything new to the process. My closet looks just like it did this time last year after I cleaned it out, except for the removal of a pink Banana Republic sweater whose time had come and some brown, wedge heels that never fit right but I had kept them hoping my heel would become fatter and they’d actually stay on.

    It didn’t.

    Last night I went to Bible Study and told the girls that Big Mama was out of material, because we all refer to Big Mama as if she is a third party. I told them that when they pulled up Big Mama tomorrow on their computers all they would find was a recipe for Chicken Cakes.

    I was totally prepared and resigned to play the Chicken Cake card.

    But LO, THE SUN! My dear Bible study friend, Amy G., mentioned she is trying to come up with a great chapter book to read to her fourth grade class. She asked us about some of our favorite chapter books from the fourth grade.

    The wheels began to turn and I said, “WAIT, I’ll ask the internet about their favorite fourth grade books and hold off on posting the Chicken Cake recipe!”

    Your disappointment is palpable.

    Fourth grade was a stellar time for me and my love of books. I mean, it wasn’t like I had a really busy social schedule, other than talking to my boyfriend Jonathan every Monday afternoon on the phone while my mama drove my sister to dance class, because I certainly didn’t want her to know I was talking to a boy on the phone. Embarrassing.

    Jonathan and I had a secret romance that was comprised largely of three passed notes, a few clandestine Monday afternoon phone calls, and a silver necklace with a Hershey Kiss pendant that he gave me for Valentines Day. Shortly thereafter we broke up because he felt I was using him. I didn’t know what that meant, but he heard it from his friend Phillip who was clearly much wiser in matters of the heart.

    Anyway, what I’m saying is I loved to read books and, when I found one I loved, I read it over and over again. I would sneak into my closet at night, turn on the light and stay up way too late reading books.

    In fact, my book collection was so vast that I actually created my own private library using the shelves of my closet, complete with alphabetical listings and a mini-card catalogue so that my friends could check out my books.

    Oddly enough, I didn’t have that many friends.

    But my fourth grade social life isn’t the point. The point is what books did you read and love in the fourth grade or sometime in that time frame? Here are some we mentioned:

    Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing (obvious choice)
    Super Fudge
    Blubber
    Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great (clearly, Judy Blume rules)
    Soup by Robert Newton Peck
    Island of the Blue Dolphins
    Where the Red Fern Grows
    The Shining (totally kidding, but wanted to make sure you’re paying attention)
    Ralph, the Motorcycle Mouse

    Those are just a few in what I am sure is a vast sea of quality fourth grade reading material. What are some great books we are leaving out?

    And for the four guys who read this blog, we need some manly input as well. Be brave.

  • An update from the place where html goes to die

    Yep. Still aqua.

    The last time I checked in with the staff at Big Mama there wasn’t so much working furiously as there was a lot of lying around on the couch, eating Sour Patch Kids and catching up on episodes of Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style.

    So, clearly, we’re taking the whole template crashing thing very seriously.