Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Fail Cake


I used to be a cake decorator. Okay, it was at Dairy Queen, but it still counts. I made this cake yesterday for James' birthday. It is a two layer cake. Yes, there are two very thin layers there.  They are crumbled and shaped back together. I've learned two things from this endeavor. One, don't buy cheap candles. Two, don't ever cook/bake again.



Friday, November 8, 2013

Tigers On A Gold Leash

I've been listing to "Royals" by Lorde on repeat for the last half hour. The song has helped me realize that if I ever become uber wealthy I will become one of those people that buys themselves a tiger.

It will start out lovely. The tiger will be a cub and I will shun all human contact and just spend time with my awesome tiger. I'll buy him a gold leash and a diamond collar, and we will walk through the neighborhood. I'll feed him small, ugly dogs.


My tiger will grow strong and beautiful. As he approaches adolescence, I'll realize that I'm growing bored with him. As tigers go, he's fine, but just UGH, taking care of a tiger is a lot of work.  The relationship will be strained. My tiger will feel the tension, and he'll begin to think about eating me.



I'll let him think about it for a few weeks. I'll let him plan his attack--pouncing on me when my back is turned, and dragging me, by the neck, back to his gold basket.


When I'm positive that his plan is in place, I'll take him by his gold leash and lead him into the library. I'll show him what became of the other boring tigers. Then I'll use my gold steam roller to make him into a flat tiger rug.

It's probably best that I stay poor.







Monday, October 14, 2013

A Fresh Batch of Booger Dough



Jack and I set out to make a batch of homemade Play-Doh. This was our first attempt. It was supposed to be blue. It turned out green and greasy. The greasy part came from using olive oil and not using a measuring cup. The green part will remain a mystery. We managed to play with the dough twice before it turned into snot and had to be sacrificed.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Owl Party





I helped host a baby shower with an owl theme. The owl cupcakes and the owl pineapple served as decorations, edible decorations. I sent the pineapple home with the mom-to-be, and I hope it is sitting somewhere, preferably on her night stand, staring at her.

Friday, August 9, 2013

One If By Land, Two If By Sea


The town we live in allows burning inside the city limits (or at least that's the rumor). We've taken full advantage of this, frequently having raging bonfires, where we dance around and take psychedelic drugs.

Actually, we used bricks from a torn down chimney to build a small fire pit, where we perform weekly sacrifices to the God of junk mail. I purchased a fake candle lantern, that we call Paul Revere, to add to the ambiance.

The photo above shows the neighborhood cat enjoying our burn party. We call the cat Mr. Tinkles, but each house on the block has a different name for him. He is also known as Aristocat, Friendly Cat, and Larry. Mr. Tinkles loves us because we give him wet cat food, and we provide entertainment, and psychedelic drugs.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Inappropriate Exercise Attire

                                         Photo owned by Cornell University Library, no known date


That's me on the front row right, wearing bloomers and stockings, trying to break a sweat. Sometime last week, last month, a point in the distant past, I remembered I had a gym membership. I was driving around in my car on my lunch break, aimlessly, when I recalled the tasty smoothies and sandwiches they make at the gym. So the idea started with the possibility of food, and then was followed by the thought that I should probably workout if I was in the building, not just use the gym as a restaurant. 

I arrived wearing jeans, sandals, and a long sleeved shirt. I was ready for my smoothie. I was greeted by an employee I'd never met, who quickly informed me that, 

"We don't make smoothies anymore. Or sandwiches." 

At this point I could have turned around and hauled ass to Sonic, but I was too lazy to go back out into the heat. 

"We sell Monster Energy drinks now, everyone LOVES them. You should try one."

This sounded like something that would give me a headache and cause vomiting. 

"Okay."

I marched off to the treadmill with my large aluminum can of energy, noticing an angry bodybuilder crushing his empty can against his head. 

My inappropriate attire didn't hamper my efforts, I never broke a sweat, but I was moving. I read an entire Cappers magazine, while sipping my drink, learning all I'll ever need to know about rutabagas and chicken coups.

I returned to work feeling like this guy: 

Georg Lurich (1876-1920), an Estonian Greco-Roman wrestler and strongman  of the early 20th century. (Source: Flickr Commons project, 2009)

                                                                         







Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Employee of the Month

For the last few months I've been helping James with his business. The business is new, he needs the help, and I'm glad to do it. Plus, he pays me. Being paid by my husband technically makes me his employee. I'm the only employee, so right now there are no plans to form a union. But, that doesn't mean I can't go on strike. So far the employer/employee relationship has been civil. I have no coworkers to conspire and gossip  with, so I typically just grumble to myself, if I feel I'm being overworked. I took the liberty of grumbling out loud today, something along the lines of "feeling appreciated."

"But, I'm paying you," James said.

I explained that every employee needs an occasional morale boost. Something as simple as a gold star, an all-expenses paid vacation, or a miniature pony with my name branded on it.

"You're doing a good job," James said. I think he even slapped me on the back.

I went back to work. And then this arrived in my email:

"As employee of the month you are entitled to the VIP
 parking spot
in front of the house."


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Mono Nucle Easter






We've been fighting "The Kissing Disease" at our house. Mononucleosis. Luckily, once you have it....YOU HAVE IT FOR LIFE! That's right. We could take out an entire town just by offering free make-out sessions under the bleachers.

Every person that's had Mono "took a semester off because I was so tired." An extended leave from life doesn't work very well once you're an adult, or if you're an energetic two-year-old. So we've been dragging our feet, whining, and eating Cadbury Creme Eggs.

The Grandparents have helped us survive, and they provided a lovely Easter, complete with cookies, Easter baskets and an egg hunt. We provided the snot.

Monday, March 25, 2013

The Fort is Secure


My favorite movie is Stand By Me. River Phoenix will always be my boyfriend. This picture of Buckles, caught on the motion detection camera, at 7:24 a.m., reminds me of a quote from the movie. It's the scene where the boys are in sleeping bags, in the woods, taking turns keeping watch:

"2300 hours. Corporeal Teddy Duchamp stands guard. No sign of the enemy. The fort is secure."
"Shut up Teddy, and keep your eyes peeled."
Teddy begins to make a mournful bugle sound.
"Teddy, cut it out! I’m trying to sleep!"
"The dog faces rested easy in the knowledge that Corporeal Teddy Duchamp was protecting all that was dear to them."

Buckles is the Corporeal Teddy Duchamp of the farm.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Heavy Cream


Jack is going to daycare two mornings a week. I'm not used to getting a toddler ready in the morning--just getting myself out the door, clothed, is sometimes a challenge. On his first day I woke up early. I'd put his outfit out the previous night, I was attempting to be organized. 

I made sure he had an extra outfit, diapers, wipes, a snack, a drink, a pacifier, and blueprints of the NiƱa, Pinta, and the Santa Maria, all in his bag. On my way out the door I grabbed a pint of heavy whipping cream, and stashed it in my purse. I was looking forward to putting it in my coffee when I got to work, or pouring it down my throat for lunch, either one. 

I dropped Jack off without incident, and made it to work on time. I was feeling quite accomplished. Quite adult. About 10:00 a.m. the phone rang, it was the babysitter.

"I noticed that Jack has cereal in his bag, and a pint of heavy whipping cream. Is the cream for the cereal or do you put that in his bottle?"

Yes, I'm hoping Jack will win the blue ribbon this year at the county fair, we've been fattening him up on heavy whipping cream for two years. 


The cream had actually spilled all over the inside of Jack's bag. Jack's babysitter was nice enough to wash his bag, and to believe my explanation about cream going in coffee and not babies . The moral of the story is: There is no use crying over spilled heavy whipping cream.



Wednesday, February 27, 2013

What Happens During the Dark of Night

This is our sweet, slightly bipolar, farm dog named Buckles. She enjoys nothing more than a good run, a heaping bowl of kibbles and horse meat, chasing a cow, and listening to humans bicker. We recently set up a motion activated camera at the farm, hoping to catch some wildlife. Apparently, Buckles was the one catching the wildlife. She is a bunny killer. A psycho zombie bunny killer.


Monday, February 18, 2013

Romance

Valentine's Day Candlelight Dinner.
Reservations Required. 
Romance.
This is how it is done in my little town.
A candlelight dinner at Pizza Hut.
And a trip to Dollar General for a new pair of pajamas.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Mouse That Wasn't


I know the sound of a scurrying mouse. I've listened to them run in the walls of the family farm house, and I used to watch one come out at night and steal food, while living in my one room New York apartment. It's winter time in Kansas, and we live in an old house, built in 1890. There are plenty of tiny crevices that a mouse could pancake himself into, searching for a little warmth. Luckily, we haven't had any mice (hobo squirrels is a story for another day), until last week.

"What's that noise? Do you hear it?"

"No."

"It sounds like a mouse. In the entertainment center."

James stood listening, hearing the faint scuttling of something moving around inside one of the drawers. He jumped up on the couch. We both listened.

"How did it even get in there?"

"Walked. It probably walked."

"Bobo, are you just going to sit there?" Bobo the cat sat on the couch, completely uninterested.

"Let me get some tools," James said, heading towards the laundry room.

He quickly returned with a broom, a cardboard box, a flashlight, and some Chex Mix. He leaned over and barely opened the drawer, shining the flashlight into the dark space.

"I think I see something!" I screamed. He slammed the drawer shut.

We regrouped and tried again, slowly opening the drawer. We could both hear the noise, but couldn't see anything.

"He must be behind the drawer."

At this point I was ready to just let him live there so that I could get back to my episode of Strange Addictions.

"You know the noise almost sounds mechanical. It's repetitive."

James used the broom to reach into the drawer and poke the DVD player. Then he summoned up his courage and stuck his hand into the drawer and turned the DVD player off. The noise stopped.

The natives congratulated themselves on their bravery and power of deduction. Chex Mix was consumed.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Dumbed Down Downton

A dumbwaiter, rather fitting. 

Watching our first episode of Downton Abbey didn't go as planned. It wasn't the show's fault, it was ours. My suggestion for beginning a new series is to unplug, and pay attention. It's fine to bring a bowl of popcorn,  interspersed with Peanut M&Ms, to the couch, but don't bring your laptop, otherwise this happens:

"What year did the Titanic sink?"

"Let me Google it."

2 minutes later
"When did women get the right to vote? I bet it was 1920. Do you want to bet? I'll bet you five cents."

"The internet says it was 1920. But I never agreed to a bet."

5 minutes later
"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

5 minutes later

"How many house fires do you think are caused by people on Ambien?"

"I don't care. Shut up."

2 minutes later

"Let me see the laptop."

"Why?"

"I'm going to read the first episode synopsis, just so I can catch up."



P.S. I've since watched all the episodes available on Netflix and I was able to follow the plot without any help from the internet.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Roku Addiction

We got rid of our cable a few months ago. It was too expensive and we really only watched a few channels. We opted for a Roku instead, allowing us to stream Netflix and more. This was the beginning of the end for me. While I used to casually watch whatever was on, usually working on another project as well, I am now planting myself in front of the TV with the purpose of watching 5-6 episodes of a show in one sitting.

It started with Breaking Bad. We watched 2-3 episodes a night until we ran out.

Next, it was Portlandia. All 17 episodes watched within a few days.

Then I decided to give up all sense of a life outside of TV by accepting the challenge to watch all 123 episodes of 30 Rock. The challenge was made by me and there was no prize upon completion.

Last night I watched episode 123 of 30 Rock. I spent over 45 hours watching 30 Rock.

I'm done. I'm going to resume my normal life, where I do other activities besides watching television.

Until tonight, when I start watching Downton Abbey.