Blogarita 4 !!!

So Blogarita 4 is coming up THIS COMING WEEKEND!!! For those who are new around my blog, "Blogarita" started up a few years back, when 4 blogging buddies (Naive-no-More, Chesneygirl, Curly-Que and me) decided to get together for a weekend of nonspecific shenannigans involving margaritas. Most of us had met at least one of the other of us before but none of us had been in the same place at the same time, so it was pretty exciting.

I don't think any of us really expected it to become the huge part of our lives it's grown to be, though.

While we all continue to get together in various combinations whenever we can (going to concerts together, quick lunches or dinners, drive-by howdys, etc.), it's become tradition to hold a Blogarita on a semi-annual basis, sometime every spring and every fall. Priceless memories have involved but have not been limited to:

• Mass consumption of cocktails and food
• Scrapbooking and scrapbook store shopping
• Riotous games of Balderdash and Euchre
• Saran wrapping people's mailboxes and garage doors shut
• Self mutilation (ear cartilege piercing)
• Scarecrows with rude last names
• A variety of body noises
• Crime scene photography techniques
• Panther stealing
• Dining at restaurants that close soon after
• Buttcrack cake
• Spiders in the car
• Munchos and Bugles
• Taking photos in pitch blackness
• Cow tipping

I love you girls! Our memories are some of my favoritest of my whole life, and I can't wait to see what this gathering's got in store.

Click here for visual aids from Blogarita 1 - the start of it all. You know you wish you were us.

Stinky Dog

Most Beautiful Dog was out on the back 40 for his evening patrol when we noticed he was barking and carrying on. This happens on occasion, but what really got our attention was the pungent smell of either old burning tires ... or a skunk.

I went out with a flashlight to investigate and sure enough, MBDog was circling our flatbed trailer, giving a darling young skunk underneath what-for.

As my longtime blogging friends will recall, MBDog has been skunked twice before - and I always make sure I have the proper ingredients on hand to make a batch of deskunking shampoo. I went in the house to draw a bath and mix the potion.

By the time I came back out, MBDog was carrying the poor lifeless thing around in his mouth in a victory parade. :( Ugh. I was really hoping he'd just bark at it and not figure out how to get it.

I recruited Hub to help me get the critter away from MBDog and dispose of it while I hauled him in for a scrubdown. Along with the revolting stench, he was smattered with blood smears. Yuck. I got him cleaned up and tended to his wounds. The baby skunk's fighting demise made me sad, but MBDog was just doing what a hunting dog does.

MBDog is now fresh as a daisy and snoozing on the couch. I, on the other hand, smell vaguely of old burning tires, and decided this was a good time to remind my dear friends of my beloved lifesaving Deskunking Shampoo recipe, should it ever be needed.

• 1 qt. of 3% hydrogen peroxide (the common drug store variety)


• 1/4 cup of baking soda


• 1 teaspoon of dishwasing liquid

(MBDog is a shorthaired dog weighing about 75 pounds, and this quantity is just about right for him. Adjust your quantities accordingly if you have a larger or furrier dog)

Mix all ingredients and use immediately. Wet dog's fur and lather in the shampoo mixture thoroughly and generously, taking great care around the face not to get it in the mouth, nose or eyes. Let mixture sit for 3-4 minutes, rinse. Repeat if needed. If desired, follow up with a bath of baby shampoo or other gentle cleansing soap - this will prevent skin irritation.

Hope you never need it!

Never Forget.

Could Michael Moore be a bigger jackass?

Hurricane Gustav hitting New Orleans at the beginning of the RNC is "proof that there is a God in Heaven"???

According to Michael Moore it is - and is said so by him with a snicker.

Why - I repeat, WHY - is he not getting strung up for this ridiculously heartless statement? What a worthless, self-righteous, oxygen-wasting, arrogant piece of sh!t. I can't even think of any expressions vile enough to describe him, or anyone who would say such a thing. ANYONE of ANY party should be disgusted. I can not BELIEVE he isn't getting so completely ripped for this that he disappears into perpetual seclusion!!!

This isn't a joke, you jackass. This isn't an unmanned probe crashing, or lightning hitting an endangered tree. This is people's lives. LOTS of people. People who've lost everything not once but twice in recent years. Yep, that's hilarious. God would surely orchestrate such a thing just to appease or discourage a political party. Michael Moore makes me sick.

THIS? Is considered a brilliant mind? Spare me. I just threw up in my purse.

What. A. Piece. Of. SH!T.

Apples

We have an apple tree on our property. Our apple tree drops a fair share of fruit onto the ground, as apple trees tend to do. And Most Beautiful Dog discovered in short time that he really loves apples. For the past several summers, he will go out and binge on apples until his belly is distended, and then he'll lay around and fart all night.

The tree had suffered its fair share of neglect before we moved here, and since our assumption of our country castle we've been pruning it and trying to encourage it to produce a decent crop of apples. We're finally getting there. The firm, tart apples are larger and better proportioned this year than ever before. The other night, Hub and Incrediboy went out and picked some for me to make into apple cobbler. A bit premature on the ripeness, but for cooking we figured they'd do fine.

MBDog was stuck to me like glue, gazing up at me with his amber saucer-eyes the entire prep time. I think he took the raid of his precious personal apple stash kind of personally.

The cobbler turned out well. We enjoyed some as a late night snack and I wrapped the dish with the remaining dessert in foil, leaving it on the counter before we went to bed.

When I got up this morning and shuffled into the kitchen, I noticed the foil was neatly folded back and other than a few bits and crumbs, the dish was empty. Hub has a way of getting up in the night and tooling around a bit before returning to sleep, and I figured he must have put the cobbler in another container and placed it in the fridge. I looked in there, but there was no cobbler. Then I thought he might have had a midnight binge while watching a little TV. I smiled to myself. But took note there was no spoon or fork in the sink. Then it hit me. I picked up the dish and studied it under the kitchen light. And there they were. Large, sweeping tongue marks.

MBDog had tippy-toed out to the kitchen overnight, got up on the counter, neatly nosed the foil back, and ate my cobbler - what I'm sure he considered his rightful property in the first place.

I was peeved for a moment. I walked back into the bedroom and glared at him sleeping soundly, as one tends to do with a belly full of rich sweet dessert. And I couldn't help but chuckle. It *was* kind of funny. The little sneak.

I made another batch of apple cobbler tonight. This batch is being stored in the oven. If he figures out how to open the oven, I imagine he deserves to get that cobbler.

Deep in the Grickle Grass

The world's people can be divided into two different categories: Those who love Dr. Seuss and those who don't.

Neither is good nor bad over the other - it's just a simple state of being. My mother loves the vibrant and colorful made-up people, places and things in the world of Dr. Seuss. Her mother waved it off as a waste of time to fill children's heads with such nonsense.

Like my mother, I believe a little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.

A while back, I bought Incrediboy an anthology of ten or so Dr. Seuss stories for bedtime. To my delight, he takes after Mom and me. To my greater delight, his favorite story is also mine ... The Lorax. I made my Mom read The Lorax a scrillion times, and lucky for me she loved me more than she was sick of The Lorax ... Most of the time she indulged me. One of countless reasons my Mom rules.

Upon getting this new copy of my favorite Seuss book, I fell in love with it all over again. Not only is it a great story about responsibility and repercussions, but the descriptions are priceless. Words and beings not existing before the publication of this book seem so natural, so real. So perfect. As if they had always been.

Do you not get an immediate mental image of the look and feel of Grickle Grass? Can't you just imagine what the soothing song of the Swomee Swans must sound like? And the heavenly sound of the Humming Fish's hum? And what I wouldn't give to watch brown Bar-ba-loots playing. Cute. But most of all, I can smell the trees, which as any Lorax fan knows, have the sweet smell of fresh butterfly milk.

*breathing deeply*

Now I ask you - What's better than that?

The fact that I couldn't begin to tell you exactly what miff muffered moof is, is inconsequential really. It all makes perfect sense to me, and apparently to Incrediboy as well - as he has never asked me exactly what miff muffered moof is (thank God). Even after the scrillionth time of reading it, I don't even have to look at the words anymore - I know the whole story ver batum, and that's fine with me.

It's an awesome world, the world of nonsense.

A Fool's Paradise

Hello friends! Yes, I've been slacking largely with the posting again. It's summer, though - you know how it is. So many things going on, no time to settle down and write.

Summer isn't what it used to be - I seem to be much more sensitive to heat than I was in younger years, and if I'm not on the boat and/or near a source of water where I can plunk in at will and cool off when temperatures exceed 90, my body tends to react with anything from dizziness and nausea to a brain-bleeding migraine. That kind of sucks. Luckily, I'm fortunate enough to usually be near water when I'm actually out in the heat.

Much to my chagrin, I fear that I'm beginning to develop allergies. The last couple years I've had very itchy eyes come late July and well into fall - Enough that I quit wearing eye makeup altogether (not that I wear a lot, but it used to be that I didn't leave the house without eyeliner on. I've gotten over that now.) I also had an irritating cough all summer long last year for no apparent reason. This year has also seen the return of the cough (though not as bad) accompanied by an annoying tickle in my nose, sneezing, and a bizarre wheeze when I take a deep breath. I really don't want allergies and I've been insistent that I have never had them before so why start now ... but it doesn't seem to be doing any good.

Maybe it'll go away.

These things aside, I'm feeling pretty chipper these days. The Hub and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary yesterday - and Incrediboy is at such a truly enjoyable age, we've really been having fun with him. We all went to a local fair this past weekend and Incrediboy begged and bugged to go on the ferris wheel. Well I am OUT on that, being completely terrified of heights, but the Hub took him on it. I wondered how he'd do - half expecting to see him clinging to Daddy for dear life with terror on his little face as they made their first round - but he was delighted. Absolutely loved it. Thank goodness the Hub agreed to take him on the ride, because I am quite sure I would have suffered heart failure before I was halfway up. My son is my hero.

I've been spending much of my other moments submersing myself in my scrapping hobby. I haven't done much ACTUAL scrapping, but I've been looking at layout books and magazines and bidding on cool supplies (mainly discontinued Creative Memories paper) on ebay. I'm chock full of nifty ideas ... now if only I can translate some of them into my own books before they escape me.

God bless my Hub. That's all I've got to say. Between you and me, I'm not the best homemaker. I will neglect the dishes and ignore the dust bunnies in lieu of indulging in creative hobbies. A fulltime career woman and full time mother deserves as much unwind time as any businessman with his sports page or golf clubs or Moose lodge, but so often it's only accepted after the third fulltime job of housekeeper has been tended to. My Hub gets bugged by my selfishness from time to time, but for the most part he is graciously tolerant. I love him for that.

Life is good.




BTW, today is my best friend Chesneygirl's birthday. If you haven't done so, pop on over and wish her a good one - even if you don't have a chance to until after her day. She's an irreplaceable cornerstone in my sisterhood square, she's awesome and deserves to be celebrated. :) Have a great year, sis!!!

-------->
Clew (west), Chesneygirl (north), Naive-No-More (east), and Nelly (south) - BFFs

This Vacation Stinks.

So remember the sore throat I came down with the end of last week? Well, long story short I've been sick for the majority of my vacation. NICE. The sore throat was actually gone by Sunday evening, so I was jazzed about that, thinking it was all over. I actually went to work on Monday though, because the weather was crappy - and I coughed all day there, feeling myself going downhill. By evening my nose was running like a faucet and I was coughing my head off. By Yesterday morning I was coughing so deep into my chest it was scary. I sounded like an old man with advanced emphysema. I spent the day lying around, coughing and moaning and hugging MBDog. Today is better, but you ought to see the gross stuff I'm bringing up out of my lungs. Ugh. At least my cough is productive today though.

Hub just went to work, seeing as we can't really do anything. I probably could have too, but screw it, I don't feel like it. I want to convalesce and feel sorry for myself.

I'll probably go back to work tomorrow. Maybe we can take a few days off next month.

This vacation stinks.

A Big Ball of Nothing

So I've gotten complaints on and off record about my last post being disturbing and I need to post something else to push it down. I have nothing bubbling in the brainpot, though - so you'll have to do with some aimless chatter. Aren't you excited?

So my vacation started today as of quitting time. We're not really doing anything, just hopefully enjoying some downtime. The bad news is I started getting a sore throat yesterday and it's no better today. Not debilitating, but annoying at best, and very scratchy no matter what I drink or take. *Sigh*. Isn't that the way?

I've spent the last week or so rearranging my scrapbooking paper, hoping to be struck with some sort of inspiration (yes, I have that much paper that I can sort it for a week and then some. It's an addiction.). I have tons to catch up on - probably way more than I'll ever get done if I live to be 150 - which may be why I don't know where to start. I read somewhere recently that joining a scrapping challenge group can give your creative juices a kick in the pants. My dear friend Jody participates in a stamper's challenge frequently and seems to really enjoy and benefit from it - so I hunted around on line a little tonight and found one for scrapbooking that looks interesting. Like I have time for this, but I figure it'll be there when I can get to it. Meanwhile, I can check in, look, and think about it. :)

Bellydancing class is going GREAT, thanks for asking. I love it so much.

I was watching Ghost Hunters this week - which if you aren't familiar is a sort of documentary where a team of paranormal investigators visit various sites and try to figure out what's going on with the reported strange paranormal activity. This week they visited an old governor's mansion in Rhode Island or somewhere, which is now an historical site. In this mansion, among other things, was a room full of old dolls. Creepy, scary dolls. All of them. One was a marionette, which have their own special brand of horror to them. One of them had no head - WTF! Well, one of the investigators was in this room trying to establish some kind of contact with any sort of presence that might be there ("If anyone is here, can you make a noise or touch my arm to let me know you're here?") - and swears that he felt something brush against his leg.

Let me tell you. I love this kind of stuff, and paranormal investigator is on my list of dream jobs. But if I were trapped in a room with those dolls at ALL, let alone felt something brush against my leg in there? I would bust out of there so fast there'd be smoke coming off my shoes.

GAWD I hate old creepy dolls.

There I go again. Talking about scary dolls.

Don't look down.

Scary Dolls

I've never been fond of dolls.

Much of that has to do with my growing up as a tomboy, I'm sure. But it's more than a simple disinterest. Dolls in general give me the creeps.

Some friends of ours make fun of the Hub and me when we visit them. One of them had a Charlie McCarthy dummy when they were a kid, and the very thing is sitting in their guest room as a (subjectively) charming Americana-esque decoration. The Hub and I both decided we couldn't possibly sleep with that thing in the room with us. Our friends were highly amused as they removed it, and to this day whenever we visit, joke that they are going to throw it on us as we sleep. Thankfully they never have, as I'm quite convinced my heart would stop then and there.

Charlie McCarthy himself doesn't scare me. In fact I always loved those Charlie and Edgar routines when I was growing up. But to have the doll just sitting there - staring at you - grinning that freaky grin -WTF!

Clowns on the other hand are a different story: ALWAYS scary, no matter what. Remember in the movie "Poltergeist", when that awful near-lifesized clown doll went evil and pulled that poor kid under the bed? Geez, what could be scarier than that? Clowns are straight out of hell as it is, and clown DOLLS are the worst. Remember this guy? Cheese and crackers. EASILY the scariest thing in the whole movie for me.

But probably the ones I find most disturbing are the ones that look freakishly realistic. Real hair, rosy cheeks, rosebud mouths, serene expressions and awful, huge eyes that often "blink" when you tilt them back.

Look at them. You can just tell they're quietly plotting a way to kill you when you fall asleep.

Probably what started it all is in my very house this minute. My Great Grandmother's doll, which I inherited when my Grandma passed away a few years ago. I have a love/hate relationship with this thing. On one hand, I really think it's neat. It's got history, and was loved and treasured by Great Grandma when she was a girl in the mid-to-late 1800's. It's really cool to have something like that in your hands.

On the other hand, it's a horrifying thing, particularly for one with a doll phobia to begin with. I can remember when I was very young, my Grandma brought me to her old trunk to show me something really neat. She pulled out a small enshrouded object and gingerly unwrapped it as she told me it was her mother's dolly from when she was a little girl.

From out of the swaddlings came the scariest thing I'd ever seen. Matted hair, crackled skin, broken fingertips, and the most horrifying giant lapiz eyes that pierced right through my impressionable soul.

"Isn't she pretty?", my Grandma asked. I swallowed hard and forced a smile.

I held it together through the experience, but was indescribably relieved when she put it back in her trunk and closed the lid tight.

As I laid in the rollaway bed in her living room that night, I couldn't get that doll out of my head. I knew it was locked safely away. But I could feel it still staring at me. Through the material she was wrapped in, through the trunk, the paint, the plaster and the rafters between us, she was staring at me. I knew it.

As the years passed, I managed to file the demon doll in the back of my psyche, and then she came back to me. After Grandma passed away, my Dad asked me if I'd like to have it, and seeing it again gave me the same jolt. It was still as creepy as ever. But I took it. As I said previously, she's a family heirloom and a historical treasure. She was around before cars. Radios. Light bulbs. She's neat to have.

I still keep her covered and stored away. Far out of sight.

The other night I took her out after a discussion about dolls with a friend, and to my shock, her face was uncovered and she wore the cloth she is always wrapped snugly in like a shawl. Her stare straight into my eyes when I noticed nearly made me drop her.

Apparently, she's still watching me.