Another day

There may be some useful information here, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up

There was a point last week after all the Christmas festivities were over that I began to think how sad it was going to be when Caroline had to go back to school. But then P left town for four days to go hunting with some friends. Caroline and I spent those days playing vast amounts of Monopoly Junior and putting the same Scooby Doo puzzle together over and OVER again while watching G-Force which, if you don’t know (and if you don’t have kids then why would you?), is all about some guinea pigs in the special forces.

Then I let her sleep with me in my bed and she pulled off her socks in the middle of the night, flung them on my face and said, “Here. I’m tired of wearing these now.” Never mind that I was sound asleep and didn’t really need to know about her sock issues. It was a combination that caused my sadness over the impending end of Christmas vacation to wane just a bit.

So yesterday marked our re-entry into the real world. Actually it marked her re-entry. P took her to school so I spent most of the morning in my pajamas immersed in important internet research. Namely, trying to see if anyone has this Lucky Brand leopard print coat on sale yet. It appears the answer is no.

But I felt like I’d earned a little bit of down time, especially since we spent the last day of vacation going to a birthday party that involved ice-skating. As in, I had to put on shoes of death and attempt to glide across an icy surface with my thirty-eight year center of gravity.

However, P picked up some delicious sandwiches for lunch which caused me to rally. We got the rest of our Christmas decorations safely tucked away in the attic and achieved something that hasn’t happened in this house since FOREVER.

Oh sure. It may just look like a piece of furniture to you, but it is a piece of furniture (with ducks swimming under it apparently) that we move into our bedroom every year to make room for our Christmas tree. And it usually remains there until mid-April. I spend countless hours staring at the blank wall across from our couch and think about how we really ought to move the church pew but then I see something shiny on T.V. and forget about it.

But this year it’s already back in its rightful position in the living room. HOORAY FOR 2010, you have already exceeded my expectations.

Also, hooray for Martha Stewart who taught me a little trick about moving heavy furniture by placing towels under it and sliding it across the floor. She also taught me how to make beautiful ponchos but that’s a story for another time because it would be complete fiction and I’d have to make it up first.

Anyway, thanks to Martha, I moved that pew before and after Christmas ALL BY MYSELF. In fact, while I was in the midst of sliding it back to our bedroom before Christmas, P walked in the back door, saw me pushing that pew across the kitchen floor with it jacked up on two beach towels and said, “I’ll be outside if you need anything”.

Because why would I need help moving a 200 pound piece of furniture. I mean, I had beach towels to help me.

Although yesterday he did help me PIVOT it into the living room which probably saved a large chunk of our wall from being sacrificed at the hands of the Martha Stewart moving method. Honestly, I’m not even sure I learned it from Martha. It might have just been on HGTV or an episode of Friends. I can’t remember.

I realize this post passed the random mark about four hundred words ago (Who cares about my pew? Who needs to know about the beach towels? Is it important that my child threw socks in my face?) and if you don’t care about football then please feel free to quit reading at this point.

Is it just me or has this bowl season been the most random one in the history of bowl season? I don’t want to offend anyone but if someone had listed these bowl games match-ups back in August, I would have thought they were making it up. Frankly, I’m bored.

And I realize there’s still a big game to come on Thursday, but I don’t really want to talk about it.

I’d rather bask in the glory of my furniture-moving success.
Procrastination is really one of the lost arts

P and I bought our first computer back in 1997. I remember it clearly because I still wasn’t sure why anyone would need a computer because the whole internet thing was obviously just a passing fad, like indoor plumbing or telephones.

Honestly, I don’t know why I feel the need to begin this post with the entire history of our computer ownership. It’s completely and totally irrelevant. Well, except it does provide a basis to show that I really have no business messing with technology.

What you need to know is that up until about a year ago, we had that exact same mammoth desktop PC. That sound you hear is Bill Gates crying. Every now and then we’d lure some high school tech wizard to our house to perform some computer maintenance in exchange for fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. It always ended the same way, with some sweet sixteen year old boy asking me when was the last time we updated our virus software and I’d say, “What? Would you like another cookie?”

And then we’d give him a bundle of cash so he could run up to the local computer store (I have no idea what it was actually called) and buy whatever we needed to make our computer quit having a spaz. (You should see the look the teenagers would give me when I would refer to the computer as having a spaz. It’s probably similar to the look you just got when you read the words. A look of disbelief and horror.)

In the meantime, I became employed by a big pharma company that gave me a laptop, although I’m using the word “gave” lightly because they took it back so quick it made my head spin once I resigned. But part of the benefit of the laptop was the company paid for us to have wireless internet in our home, which meant I could sit on the couch and use the computer and that’s pretty much the reason this blog even exists. Had I been chained to our desktop PC and the hard, wooden chair at our desk as opposed to using a company computer for personal use while on my comfy couch, I would have thrown in the blogging towel after about a week.

This is really so much more information than you need and I’m so sorry but I cannot stop.

In March 2007, I took part of my quarterly bonus from the big pharma company and bought myself a Macbook, partly because I really wanted a Mac and partly because I was growing increasingly paranoid that the tech department at the big pharma company was tracking my every internet move and might have reports linking me to frequent use at some inappropriate site about large women who are mothers. Please note that I wasn’t paranoid enough to sit at my desk and use the PC, just paranoid enough to obsess over it while using the company laptop.

From the day I brought the Mac home (almost THREE YEARS AGO) it has never connected to our wireless internet very well. If it ever went to sleep then it would totally lose the connection. I’d have to wake it back up, put it back to sleep and then wake it up again. That highly technical method would usually work, but if it didn’t I resorted to a method I like to call whining and crying in frustration.

But yet, BUT YET, I never called AT&T to complain.

Even though I knew it was their fault because my Mac was always happy to connect to the wireless whenever we weren’t at home. It’s as if it wanted to do its business anywhere but in the comfort of home. Frankly, it reminded me of trying to potty-train Caroline.

To make a long story short (Oh sure.) I quit my job and they took the work laptop. Then about a year later, our PC died a slow death. As it turns out it’s not really a good idea to just turn down the volume on an old computer that is beeping loudly to let you know that the fan isn’t working and its over-heating. Who knew?

And so now we have one computer.

I’ve been desperately trying to convince P that he needs his own laptop. He insists he doesn’t need one. I say for someone who doesn’t need one, he sure spends a lot of time on mine and how am I ever going to break my high score on Bejeweled if he’s busy looking at reloading sites?

But this really isn’t the place to air our dirty tech laundry.

The whole point of this entire thing has been to share that our internet issues with the Mac finally reached an all-time high. P began to ask me every day to please call AT&T and figure out what was up with our internet.

(Why does he care so much if he doesn’t even use the computer enough to warrant having his own? Something to think about.)

And every day I would avoid calling AT&T because there is nothing I hate worse than having to deal with any sort of customer service department for a major corporation. I’d rank it up there with shopping at Walmart on a Saturday or going to the pool without my toenails painted. I just knew I was destined to spend HOURS of my life pressing 1 if I wanted tech support or 2 if I needed to pay my bills or 3 if I was about to bleed out of my eyes.

This has been going on for THREE YEARS.

I have put off calling them for THREE YEARS.

It finally came to head last week after P wrote that whole post on gifts for the outdoorsman and the internet went out and the entire thing was lost. He told me that I shared a least part of the responsibility for the whole debacle because I’d neglected to call AT&T for THREE YEARS.

(I know you may be wondering why he didn’t call AT&T himself. The answer is that he is not in charge of anything tech related in our home. In return, I am not in charge of anything that turns up dead or anything that is alive and unwanted. It’s a system that works well when one of you isn’t a dreadful combination of forgetful and a procrastinator.)

(Case in point: I have been wearing Degree Super-Strong Deodorant for Men for three weeks now because I can’t remember to buy some Secret while I’m at the store. And every morning when I get dressed and remember I need deodorant, I decide I can wait until tomorrow.)

Anyway, he said that he couldn’t be held responsible if he got so frustrated one day that he decided to throw the entire computer out the back door even though he realizes it’s not the computer’s fault. And so I took immediate action and thought about calling AT&T and then forgot.

Until Tuesday when we reached internet crisis mode. The Mac wouldn’t connect no matter what we did. And so I resorted to drastic measures and called AT&T. I had to push about eight different numbers and tell a computer what I needed.

“HELP. I NEED HELP.”

And finally I got a real live person on the phone.

For the first few minutes she didn’t really instill a lot of confidence in me. Mainly because I had specifically stated that I needed help with a Mac instead of a PC and she kept referring to my “Sa-Fairy” internet browser. (It’s Safari for you PC users out there. Safari. Just like in Africa or the drive-through zoo in New Braunfels, TX)

And then she kept asking me to type things into my “Sa-Fairy” browser even though I kept trying to explain that I had NO INTERNET CONNECTION. I was close to telling her that they needed to send some sort of computer wizard out to my house, when she asked, “When you look at your internet connection does it show that you’re connected to 2WIRE665?”

I replied, “No. It says Netgear.”

“What’s Netgear?”

“Well, it’s the name of our router.”

“Why do you have a router?”

“I DON’T KNOW. WHY DO I HAVE A ROUTER? AM I NOT SUPPOSED TO NOT HAVE A ROUTER?”

She calmly said, “No, you don’t need a router since you have a Mac. You probably needed one with your old laptop and your desktop, but you’ve been trying to connect to the internet the wrong way.”

FOR THREE YEARS.

So I unplugged the router, connected immediately to 2WIRE665 with the password found on the bottom of my modem, and have had nary an internet problem since.

Which works out since this whole internet thing appears to have some staying power.

And also since I have a blog.

And also because P hasn’t missed a chance to let me know that I could have solved this problem with one simple phone call THREE YEARS AGO.
You have questions, we have answers

For the second time in a week, P has written the bulk of this post and, for the second time in a week, I cannot remain silent while he takes over. So my (helpful and insightful!) commentary will be written in green.

I was so excited all day knowing that P was hard at work answering your questions. Mainly because I had no idea what I’d write about. But then, BUT THEN, I watched Sing Off on NBC last night and I’m dying to know if I’m the only one who noticed that the female judge’s hair appeared to be blowing in the wind at random times. I found it very disconcerting.

Dear NBC,

We know your little singing show is being filmed indoors, therefore there should be no wind. Also, tell Nick Lachey that I loved him on Newlyweds, but he needs to speed up his delivery as host. Not even Casey Kasem enunciates that clearly and deliberately. And Bert Parks never took that much time to announce a winner and he was hosting the most important of all shows, Miss America.

Sincerely,
A potential fan of Sing Off who’s trying to decide if she’s opposed to people making musical instrument sounds with their mouths

But this post isn’t about a singing competition. This is all about the great outdoors. This is the post where all your questions will be answered. Or at least seven or eight of your questions will be answered. Whatever.

Before I let P take over, several of you asked to see an up close picture of Caroline’s flowerpot nativity and I aim to please.

Seriously. Mary looks rough. And is it just me or does she have a little bit of the crazy eye going?

Now to answer the questions:

1. Do you have any ideas for fishing? What can I possibly get for the fisherman that has it all?

Some ideas for fishing…how can I answer that? It’s like asking what to wear out on a date, too many variables. (He has no idea the nights I debated over the bandana print wrap skirt with my denim vest versus the floral skort.)

Not knowing any specifics (What is there to know? It’s fishing.), I would say a Mister Twister electric fillet knife, the Cabela’s head lamp (I think all of you need to get your man a head lamp just for good measure. There is no end to its uses and the Coalminer’s Daughter references), a rain jacket that folds up really small, a new tackle bag (It’s like a little fishing purse!), some Columbia/Patagonia fishing shirts and a good pair of polarized glasses. I have several pairs of Costa Del Mars and love them.

You know what I have? Several pairs of sunglasses from Target in various stages of disrepair. P would say that I don’t need nice sunglasses because I always lose them or break them. And I would say he’s probably right but that’s not the point.

2. Do you have any ideas for reloading?

The problem with this situation is not knowing what your reloader already has. A gift certificate to Midway USA is always a safe bet.

3. Can you recommend a gun for personal defense; small enough to carry concealed, yet easy for a woman to handle? I currently have a Taurus 38 revolver, and my husband has a Browning High Power 9mm. As it stands now he takes my gun if he is carrying, and since I cannot pull back the slide my only hope of defending myself is to hit the intruder with the butt of the gun.

You are spot on with .38 special revolver, that’s what Big (sweet term of endearment) has too. (I had no idea that I own a .38 special revolver. No telling what else belongs to me out in that gun safe.) If you were going to get another one I would get a hammerless one if your other one doesn’t have it and maybe look at Smith and Wesson.

4. Melanie, do you have any suggestions for stylishly carrying a concealed firearm? While convenient and practical the fanny pack is not high on the list of fashion dos. A holster perhaps, but then how do you disguise the bulge? Or do you bedazzle it and call it a trendy new accessory?

Well, now that I know I own a .38 special revolver I may have to figure this out. Of course there isn’t a stylish option in the world that will hide the fact that I managed to shoot my foot off.

5. Can you recommend a decent bow for deer hunting (maybe something at Cabela’s since we have one close by)? My husband is using an old bow, and apparently bow technology has changed a lot in the past 5 years or something like that and he feels left out and wants a new bow. I’d like to surprise him with one, but of course haven’t the faintest idea. So, is there something good you could recommend?

I am a hardened Mathews bow fan. (There is no better bow for when you’re afield.) They are the standard the rest of the industry shoots for. Mathews does such a good job in their research and development department that they tend to release a new bow every 6-10 months. With that in mind, I would look at Ebay or Craig’s list. You can find a bow with only a couple of seasons on it that is still better than any other brand, at a fraction of the cost for a new one. (I bet there’s a good chance that we have one or six we could sell you sitting in our back house.)

6. Is there an advantage to the orange handle on the knife? I guess it is so you can find it in the dim light if it fell on the ground.

I’m a fan of orange and yellow accessories that are not part of the hunt/kill. If you drop them they are a lot easier to find.

7. My husband feels he needs something that tells him how to shoot the bow based on how far away the animal is. Does he need a scope or a rangefinder? And is there one that would also work for rifle AND bow?

He needs a range finder and I use my Bushnell when bow hunting but it will work just fine for rifle hunting out to 400-500 yards, further if the animal is twice its normal size and wearing a reflective suit. (P made a joke!)

8. We live WAY up north in South Dakota. He would like a pair of really warm boots that are warm enough to snowmobile in. Do you have any suggestions in that arena?

I have no idea, cold to us is 35 degrees. A good pair of Smart Wool socks takes care of us down here. Some good brands would be Danner, Rocky, Irish Setter and I have had several pairs of Cabela’s name brand boots with excellent results. (Judging by the fact that I haven’t been warm in weeks as the temps here have hovered in the 50’s, I’d bet that I wouldn’t need warm boots if I lived in South Dakota because I’d never go outside.)

And now I’m off to go find another blanket to wrap around me.

It’s in the 60’s here today, so BRRR.
Soup is better than geometry

Last night we went and picked out our Christmas tree. I don’t mean to exaggerate but it may be the best tree in the history of all our Christmas trees. To be honest, I’m a little intimidated to decorate it because I feel that my decorating abilities may be less than a tree of this magnitude deserves. I’d show you a picture of it in all its undecorated glory, but that would involve getting up off this warm couch to find my camera.

Every year at the tree lot, P and I engage in a lively discussion over what size tree we should buy. This is largely due to the fact that twelve years ago when we bought our first tree for this house, it was so big that we couldn’t get it through our front door. In my defense, I was just very enthusiastic about our nine foot ceilings and how they meant we could buy a tall tree. What I failed to factor in was a little thing called circumference. Geometry was never really my strongest subject.

I’m not even sure that circumference has anything to do with Geometry. Maybe I could write a seven step proof to figure it out. Oh wait, I forgot that there is NEVER another reason EVER in the history of your life to write a seven step proof once you barely pass Geometry.

Anyway, I need to go make sure all my lights still work because I plan to spend the better part of the day wrapping this baby with a thousand points of light. I just hope I can make it proud.

And I totally meant what I said yesterday about my intention to discuss a soup recipe. It’s been cold and rainy here all week (rumor has it we may have snow flurries on Friday which SURE WE WILL) so I’ve made all manner of soups and gumbos to help us through the long winter.

This one has been my favorite of the week. Super easy and like a warm hug on a winter’s day.

(If warm hugs were made of cheese tortellini.)

Italian Sausage Tortellini Soup

1 pound Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or spicy depending on your preference)
1 large onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
5 cups beef stock
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup red wine
28 oz. can peeled tomatoes, chopped
4 carrots, chopped
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
8 oz. can tomato sauce
3 zucchini, chopped
8 ounces cheese tortellini
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 tbs. chopped fresh parsley
Grated parmesan cheese for topping

Brown the sausage in a large pot. Drain all the grease except for 1 tablespoon, then add the onions and garlic and saute for 5 more minutes.

Add the beef stock, water, wine, tomatoes, carrots, basil, oregano and tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 30 minutes.

Add the zucchini, tortellini, green bell pepper and parsley. Simmer until tortellini is cooked (about 8-10 minutes). Serve in bowls topped with grated parmesan cheese.

It’s so good and you can make it even if you know nothing about concave polygons.
A lot of words to say a lot of nothing

Apparently I have a blog.

Huh.

The problem with taking close to a week off to eat myself into a stupor, the likes of which will require an 85 Day Shred Workout DVD before I’ll be able to wear jeans instead of stretchy pants, is that so much has happened, SO MUCH FUN HAS BEEN HAD, that I don’t even know where to begin.

The irony is I read a blog post over the weekend that discussed ten things that bloggers do wrong and I was only slightly surprised that I am guilty of eight out of ten, chief among them being that I use too many words when I write a post. At least now I know that my failure to build any sort of media empire is largely due to my inability to use less words and I’m okay with that because I can’t help myself. As Caroline told me yesterday as we decorated for Christmas, “Mama, the details make everything better!”

Okay, Martha Stewart, hand Mama some more of that ribbon and that sparkly tinsel.

Caroline was out of school all last week so we left for Bryan/College Station with Gulley and her boys the Friday before Thanksgiving. As soon as we drove into town we headed straight to Reed Arena to watch the Aggies play basketball and to purchase three buckets of popcorn so that each child could eat four pieces.

On Saturday we went to Kyle Field before the A&M vs. Baylor game. The kids got their faces painted and then found a prime spot to watch the band and the Corps march in.

Caroline decided to wear her zebra pants which I felt was a good choice since any occasion is more festive when you’re wearing zebra pants. It’s worked for Aerosmith for years.

Then Sunday night we went to Santa’s Wonderland to see the Christmas lights.

But wait, there’s more! (Of course there is. Media empire FAIL.)

Nena came by on Saturday night and brought a shirt that she wanted Honey to try on. She said she’d originally bought it for Uncle Johnny, but it turned out to be a shirt for a woman so she thought Honey might want it because doesn’t every woman want to wear a shirt intended for her older brother?

Here it is. (The model’s head has been cut off because there are limits to what should be on the internet.)

It’s made of fleece and the brand is Bugle Boy. The best part is all of us have figured out a way to contort our bodies when we try on Nena’s clothing offerings to ensure they don’t fit. Gulley called me on it last time by declaring she never knew my arms were so long as I made sure to bunch a jacket up around my shoulders causing the sleeves to be way too short.

Anyway, it turns out that it’s okay that none of us wanted it because Nena’s friend Dorothy Kay said she’ll take it and has plans to cut off the sleeves and turn it into a chic (chick) vest. In the words of Tim Gunn, make it work, Dorothy Kay, MAKE IT WORK.

But enough of all this, let me tell you about the most important development of the past week, my new talent. I may never reach the heights of success with my faux media empire, but I’ve discovered I can weave a potholder like a son of a gun. Thirty years ago, when I was a wee young member of Brownie Troop 4032, I managed to weave a few potholders with some modicum of success. However, I always struggled when you had to tie off the edges so that you could actually take it off the loom.

WELL, Gulley and I decided to take the kids to Michaels to buy them each some type of craft to entertain them since the weather was wet and cold outside. Caroline chose (with perhaps a little direction from me in the form of saying “LOOK AT THIS LOOM! DON’T YOU WANT TO MAKE POTHOLDERS?) a weaving loom.

Look! It includes everything you need for only $6.99 plus tax!

Unfortunately it didn’t include everything we needed because the plastic loom was already broken on one end when I opened the box. I was too lazy to return it, but thankfully it didn’t hinder my potholder-making abilities.

Much.

The kids sat at the table and did their crafts for approximately eight minutes, but I totally got sucked into the loom. In fact, I kept the loom by my side the rest of the weekend and worked tirelessly to create four potholders of less than mediocre quality. I’m considering opening up my own Etsy shop because I believe there may be high demand for homemade woven potholders that are smaller than my hand.

Maybe I could market them as coasters.

Or rugs for Barbie’s dreamhouse since I’m pretty sure that’s what I used them for back in 1978.

Either way I think this idea holds promise which works out well since I’m up to 857 words on this post and haven’t even gotten to Tuesday. Goodbye Media Empire. Hello Big Mama’s Woven Creations: a woman, her loom, and a dream that wouldn’t die.

And yet I keep on writing with all the words.

Tuesday we went down to the ranch and spent time with some friends.

Caroline and her friend, S, went deer hunting with P. I can’t believe that they didn’t scare off every deer in a fifteen mile radius due to all the giggling, but they managed to get one.

Then we sat around the campfire and ate S’mores.

I spent most of Wednesday making desserts and some other stuff for Thanksgiving lunch while P and Caroline stayed at the ranch.

And then, FINALLY (970 words) it was Thanksgiving Day.

Caroline and her cousin Sarah continued the time-honored tradition of the kids’ table.

You may notice that Sarah chose to dine on the more traditional Thanksgiving meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a side of goldfish crackers. She’s a gourmet.

That night we watched the Aggie game.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Except for this. (Seriously, I CANNOT stop the words.) I kept saying that if we won I wouldn’t gloat or rub it in, but I feel that I should confess that I would have totally gloated. In fact, when we were only down by a few points with mere minutes left to play, I’d already devised a plan for Caroline to wear her Aggie sweatshirt to school every day next week to torment her very Longhorn teacher.

I may have even considered weaving her a maroon and white potholder.

I’m not saying it’s right. It’s just who I am.

Love,
Melanie
Big Mama’s Woven Creations
Founder, Craftsman and Owner
May your turkey be plentiful

We just rolled back into town yesterday after spending a great weekend in Bryan, TX and have big plans to spend the rest of the week making some memories and enjoying family and friends.

I hope y’all do the same.

Happy Thanksgiving!