The sap must be risin'....

It's must be--because I'm getting back to normal. Shuuuudup to those of you who are saying normal....her??? I am, so get over it. Anyway, my favorite two people from past football commercials, I know are gonna be going at it again--Peyton Manning and Reggie Bush. Oh, it's gonna be so ooooon....it's gonna be on like donkey kong. Just to get myself in the laughing out loud mood, I just googled their NBC promo commercial from a few years back and even Bruce was laughing. Google it and laugh for yourself.
I think Peyton Manning has genius comedic timing...I bet he was murder as an older brother. Evidence?? The old family video (commercial) of Eli as a little boy in his football gear, coming in the back door crying, "Mom.....Peyton hiiiiiit meeeeee". As a mother of boys, I howled. And it's truly been a Super Bowl commercial drought in the last several years so I'm thinking we might just get some good ones, even if they are just in the week leading up to the game. Hell.....that's this next week. Woo hooo. I'm ready! Bring it on.

And then we have the winter Olympics beginning on Feb. 12th--one of my favorite things. For someone who's about as athletic as Ethel Merman, you'd think I was some sort of gifted athlete. I get really into some of it---and then I get bored---or too anxious to watch. All that downhill slalom stuff scares the pee right out of me. I end up all stressed with a stiff neck, since as I watch, I involuntarily scrunch up all my muscles. Ditto ice skating. And the moguls runs where they fly off that ski jump and contort around, is just a big fat No. Can't do it. Not gonna do it. Makes me want to hurl.
And I hate the luge thing because do you even want to know what'll happen to you, if you hit a wall straight on with your feet, going that damn fast? Let's just say your gonna look like one of the munchkins -- forever--even after 15 surgeries. Those people are crazy. Al Roker did it on the Today Show with Matt and said it scared him silly. Maybe that was the two man toboggan.....I don't know. But the point is, maybe I really don't like the Winter Olympics.....maybe it's the summer ones I like. Oh, yeah.....that's it. I like all the water stuff..... and the male swimmers are some rockin' eye candy. Maybe I just like the snow in the Winter Olympics. And the shots of the mountains.....yep. That's it. Oh, well...I'll watch a l-i-t-t-l-e.

The l-o-n-g goodbye.....

I got a call from mom this morning that she could not get her condo gate open to let in Carmen (her maid) and"your sister locked it yesterday so she messed it up". Whew....that was a refreshing change....usually I get the blame and I'm so used to it, I almost laughed that my sister finally got some!! Man, you can bet I'm gonna be all over that with her.
So, I threw my raincoat on over my robe and headed the whole 1.5 minutes (if you hit all the lights right) to her condo. Mom comes out her back door dressed exactly like me--OK....that is not a good feeling. Her gate lock was goofed up and my key wouldn't go in--even after some WD40. (And, yes, it was the right key, so don't go all Bruce Harris on me.)

What made me so sad was, mom's cognitive skills are decreased such that it didn't occur to her to let Carmen in, through the front door. Her short term memory and her ability to reason things out is just gone. As in goodbye--not coming back. So, I am her Bat phone. If she has a problem, it's mine, and we go on from there. I can always call my sister for help--no worries there--and she does LOTS of other stuff for mom. Thank God I have a sister. I don't know how only children do this and my brother is about as helpful as tits on boar hog, so forget him. (I'm not bashing all brothers here--just mine.) And when I write my best selling novel about my family, you'll know why.

Anyway, after two trips over there ( you don't even want to know why) Carmen is in, and mom should be heading soon to the Beauty "Saloon" or "hair hut", as mom calls it. Another crisis handled and it's not even noon. Dementia sucks.

The blahs....

I've got 'em. And I have a sadness hangover something awful from last Thursday & Friday's events. Wow...loss of someone just does not go away quickly even when you are just a friend. Yuuuuuck. Plus, my housekeeper called and her son is sick. Not to mention she sounded awful also. She may have been up half the night with him and, boy, can I relate to those days. The Crashman days have had an impact on me I will never forget. Speaking of Crashman, he came by yesterday since it was Bruce's 56th birthday. Sorry, Bruce....I just had to put the number out there. Anyway, I'm aware I totally adored him before his motorcycle crash but now it's different. When I see him, there's a closeness there that I honestly have to say was not there before. There is an indescribable connection now that I never had with him as a little boy, and especially not as a teenager.

I now know exactly who he is and he knows exactly who I am. Warts and all. But even more than that, there is a sharing and a closeness between us--big and small--that I think was only forged through almost losing him. Benji and I have always been close probably because we are a lot alike--we could lock eyes across a room and know exactly what the other one was thinking (and struggle to keep from laughing). And now it's Brian and me. Isn't life interesting???

The long and short of it is, I've noticed since last weeks horror, I want to keep my world smaller, my loved ones closer, my dogs and my cat right by me. I don't need millions of dollars to be happy, and I sure don't need "stuff". Small is good. Simple is good.

Funeral food

Why is funeral food so tempting?? Is it the stress everyone feels or the need for comfort foods in a time of just straight up awfulness?? Or is it just the sheer volume that gets to you? Probably a little from column A, a little from column B. And the good news is, I did not eat anything except one tiny banana muffin. Oh, Lordy, it was goooooood, too. I knew if I started, all my South Beaching would fly out the window and a real pigs at the trough mentality would take over.

I enjoy seeing what different people bring. Some people are the dessert bunch--you name it--they bring it. Lemon bars, cookies, cakes---but I hang out watching for pie people. And if they have one, let's just say I tell them "here ...let me take that for you" and you can bet your waistline it's heading out the back door with me. Now the baked ham people are nice--just not real inspired. And the still warm Chile con Queso gang are my new best friends-- unless I already know them . You can bet the farm they're invited to my funeral. Along with their chicken enchilada bearing cohorts. Ohhhh, you better know it. C'mon innnnnnnnnnnn, heah.

Now, the Egghead ( smoked chicken, brisket and ribs) folks are in a class all their own. Add to that our smoked pulled pork pals and you already know where I'm sitting. With them. And pass the special BBQ sauce and smoky mustard.
All in all, funeral food can't be beat unless it's some of those grandmothery casserole looking things that are gray and weird looking. Nobody is gonna feel better after looking at, much less eating, one of those. That is just a big NOOOOOO.
I think before I die, I'm going to call all my friends and have them sign up to bring my favorite things that they make. The only way they'll get out of it is to die before me. And they better not.

Blogging while exhausted....

Probably not a good idea. The good news? People can always log off if they want and I'll never know, and what I don't know can't hurt me. The past week has been a real doozie for me and the lessons have come hard and fast. It's not that I didn't already know them....it was the intensity they had this time around. Old age. Death. Loss. Grief. Love. Pain. Strength. Struggle. Surrender. Sadness. Kindness. I can't think of the last time I got so many lessons, so fast, that were so painful. The great part is, I got the lesson. I may not have made a A+ but rest assured, I got it. And that's what life's really about isn't it?? Just showing up to do the deal and get the lesson. Liking it is optional and with some lessons, there's just no way in Hell you are ever going to enjoy them. But you do it. Hopefully. And move on.

Whoever said life wasn't easy sure did underplay that, didn't they?

Ouch.....

My heart and my brain hurt, after the funeral of my friend's husband this morning. If I am messed up, I cannot even contemplate how his family must feel. The neatest thing about the funeral was, they addressed the elephant in the room--suicide. Their minister did a masterful job of answering lots of questions there are no answers for, such as why. The why we will possibly never know, and it changes nothing about the man we knew and loved. He was still our friend, father brother, builder, etc. with all of the fabulous characteristics that made him who he was.
And the family stories were hilarious. The wedding and reception with only my friend and her groom, and their children in attendance. This was a second marriage so creating a real family was the top priority. The reception? They all 7 piled into a limousine and hit every fast food establishment that anyone was in the mood for. Everyone got to eat exactly what they wanted. The honeymoon? All 7 of them headed for DFW airport and Disney World. Their first Christmas as a family when all the kids came down stairs, there were no presents under the tree. None of the kids could figure it out until they checked their stockings. Each stocking had a plane ticket to Italy-- everyone all together. From that point on, a family trip was a yearly tradition, and you could see that real bonding had taken place with all the kids. So much so that Bob gave away each of his stepdaughter's this past summer at their weddings though their bio dad was very much alive. BOB WAS THEIR DAD.

I may never understand what made my friend's husband take his life--I can only say he's left wayyyyy too big of a hole behind where he used to be. And I miss him.

I am blown

This morning I received one of those fairly early phone calls that you just know is not good news. And it wasn't. An old school friend was calling to tell me a mutual old pal of ours, husband, had committed suicide. In the event that you were a reader back in the Crashman blog days, this is the same wonderful man who came to our aid and built the ramps for Brian's wheelchair, (on the hottest day in August with the humidity around a thousand %) so we could get him in and out of the house. Bob was a local home builder and no one--to a person--can wrap their brain around this stunning loss. My guess is, Bob could no longer act like he was happy when he was in such agony, and for whatever reason, could not ask for help. The carnage this has left behind will never, ever, be forgotten and I feel sure if he'd been rational, this is not what he ever would have wanted to leave behind as a final goodbye.

That said, if you are reading this, and are in enormous pain (emotional or physical), please get help before doing something as final as this. There is so much help available today that no one should ever suffer like this--especially alone and silent. Too many people are ashamed to admit they have a problem. Admit it and get help. You're worth it. We all are. And he sure was.

Whew

Mom's Geriatrician called this afternoon right as I was coming in the door. I had left her a message yesterday that the evil deed was done and mom was minus her keys--permanently. Dr. V. was thrilled and told me some families never get this done and all it takes is a crash where someone is killed, for the lawsuits to start flying. With a diagnosis of dementia in mom's medical records, if she hit or killed someone, and their family sued her, they could have taken everything but the clothes on mom's back. Any astute attorney, would request mom's medical records and neurological testing and she'd be just t-o-a-s-t. Burned toast. What we've also found out is, as family, if we knew she was driving and had not forced her to stop, knowing she had dementia, we would be liable as well. YIKES! That was a real eye opener.
So, if you are in a similar position, here is a heads up. Yank the keys. It's a win-win v. a lose-lose.

I started to take a picture of mom's car, with the club on it, just because it looked soooo hilarious. All of her grand kids would love to see her car clubbed, too, at 82. Sort of a bad family joke. Most of all I am grateful that it's done, she's safe, and so is everyone else out there. Whew....we dodged a bullet.
And thank you to all the wise owls who have helped us get this done and get her housekeeper more often so driving just is no longer an issue. We are blessed.

The deed is done

Well.......yesterday it took a village. And I'm not joking. Good friends, wise friends, people who have been there ahead of me all helped and it's done. My mom's keys are in on the table in the den. I love my sister to death and I knew if I waited for her to get this handled, it would be later rather than sooner. She's busy AND let's face it...who want to have to do this??? That would be nobody.

After counsel with a wise older owl who is one of my most treasured friends, I called my sister and said "can you meet me at 3pm at my house for about 10 minutes....we've got to get this done". Yep....I pulled the pin on the grenade and threw it. I told her this is how I think it should go and then gave her some time to think. After she kibitzed with some wise pals, we met in the middle. It was actually hilarious to me because the wise older owl who scripted for me what we should say, her pals came up with something different, and when she decided she wanted to be "the heavy", she ended up saying my team's script--word for word. Attagirl.
To keep mom's car parked, we are going to put a club on it. Yep...just like we used to do to the boys when they got grounded. It's lots easier than disabling her car and a lot less risky with the computer system most cars have today, according to Crashman. The funniest part? When I called Brian (Crashman) for the scoop on how to disable her car, he's the one that reminded me of the club! "Mom....don't mess with her electrical and computer system...just club her car like you did me." Ohhhhh, yeah. Duh. Since mom could call a locksmith, this isn't foolproof but it will keep her honest, at least for a while. Damnnnnnnnn this is fun. Not.

Fed X

I am a FedX hostage. I ordered a cooking gadget over the Internet and now find I have to sign for said item when it's delivered. And since FedX cannot tell me when to be here, here I sit. Now, I was given the option of driving to pick it up at the FedX facility (oh, goodie) and that's what I'll end up doing if I'm not here. I even called to see if my neighbor could sign for it, but oh, no. The scanpan people want ME to sign for it. People....this is a scanpan skillet, not a nuclear warhead. No ricin is involved and I am not on any of the terrorist watch lists, that I know of. So whyyyyyy?? Is there a scanpan cartel operating out there that I need to know about?? Puuuuulease....it's a pan. So, since the lady told me they follow the exact same route for deliveries, it might come around the same time (3:05pm)---plus or minus an hour. Grrrrreat.

OMG.... the FedX guy is out front...... and he's got my box......don't you just love FedX!! Nothing like getting what I want to put me in a grateful mood. Which brings me to yesterday and today's weather. Too fabulous. Sooo good in fact that yesterday I pulled out my inner "trailer park" and put our fire pit on the driveway. Yep....you heard me. Bruce got it going and I dragged out one of our totally disreputable looking chairs (Adirondack rocker with peeling white paint) and sat in the sun. Yes, it was totally wack tacky but big fat deal. Like I care. The dogs came out and sunned themselves on the driveway and cruised the alley, which is a huge deal to them. From my perch, I could "direct" Bruce's tree trimming. Always a good idea--never let a Harris loose on a tree, with trimmers. I have seen some of the results and if you think the TXU guys do an awful job, on purpose (the big V's), you ought to see what a Harris male can do, unintentionally. My job was picking up the crepe myrtle seed pods and branches, and general dog wrangling. I have to keep an eye on Sis outside or she will go over to Freddy's, the adorable male dog's house behind us. Sis isjust a big 'ho....there's no other way to put it. Oh, well. I guess it could be worse.

Haiti holiday

Wow....I just cannot look at anymore coverage of the devastation in Haiti. As a mom, and a nurse, it just makes me crazy. Like everyone else in the world, I want to help and other than pray, and send some money to the relief efforts, that's all I can do. I think part of the reason this makes me soooo crazy is because almost six months ago, my child was hurt and received almost immediate care, that saved his life. I can assure you, there is no more desperate feeling than that of a parent or loved one, staring into the face of your own kid, when his/her life is on the line. Just knowing that Brian was getting the best trauma care available, did a LOT to comfort me. I cannot imagine the trauma parents, family, and especially children must be feeling. Until recently, they could do very little to help even their own children/family/friends. Talk about feeling powerless.... I can hardly wrap my brain around it.

Haiti had squat nothing to start with, and now this?? Ahhhhh...it just makes me ache, so I'm taking a Haiti holiday. That doesn't mean I've forgotten about it or that I won't continue to send prayers. And I'd send more money if my last name was Astor, but it's not, so I have done my part, in the dinero department. Please help if you can. But for the grace of God, it could have been us.
Go to the Clinton Bush Haiti fund site to donate. It's easy.http://www.clintonbushhaitifund.org

Driving while old

My sister and I had lunch with my mom yesterday. Mom had called me to tell me she had just received a "wedding" invitation that was "a year old". Hmmmm. OK...I'll bite. First she told me it was from 1999--that would make it a lot older than a year but whatever. Then it was from Nov. 2009---"a whole year ago". And then is was actually a debut ball--not a wedding. For the life of her, she just could not get it that November was only two months ago, among other things. She has good days and bad days and I think it's clear what this one was..... Geeeeze. I hate this for her.

I quickly called my sister and told her what had just gone down, and said "we need to get her and take her to lunch and see how she functions....", so off we headed. I picked her up and intentionally threw her a curve ball by picking her up at the front door vs where I usually pick her up. All the better to assess her ability to function and adjust. Uh, oh........when I got there, she'd locked herself out between her condo and the security door. Not good, folks. At lunch she did fine, though she nearly came unglued when we discussed getting her a driver--ASAP. My sweet sister lets me do all the dirty works--sort of good cop, bad cop--so mom was royally pissed at me for bringing it up, even though she knows intellectually it's a good idea. In practice, it sucks....and I don't blame her a bit for feeling angry and I told her so.

I called her this morning to talk, (and see if she was still mad) and she wasn't mad as much as just not willing to discuss it. Hellooooooo, denial. She wanted "to talk about it later". OK, Scarlet...we'll do that. Mom's geriatrician is all over her to stop driving, and since I have her medical power of attorney, somehow this has become my dirty little job. Again. I had to do it with my dad as well. The biggest problem is, mom is smart like a fox--even with dementia. If I go over and "disable" her car, she'll just call Sewell to come fix it. I can get Sewell to tell her they can't fix it but she won't buy that for a second. She'll know, and just call someone else! I'm checking into the DPS seeing what they recommend....I'm fine for her to have a car--just not drive the damn thing. Maybe I'll just heist her keys but she can always call Sewell again. Knowing mom, hell, she'll call Carl Sewell at home. He used to live down the block from us and she'd do it in a heartbeat if she really got steamed.

Which brings me to, she is as feisty as they come. Back her into a corner and try to make her do something she's not 100% on board with, and you will see Bruce's bobcat, resurrected. I know I'm certainly not the only adult in this position. It still just suuuuuucks.

It's a crap shoot...

In my office this morning (shower), where I do my best thinking, it occurred to me we need to have a show with Martha Stewart and Oprah. And, no, not one of those interview type things---something more like Survivor. Since none of us know what either of these ladies are really like, I think it would be interesting beyond belief to see how they reacted. Now, this wouldn't be the totally stripped down version where they have to wear swim suits & eat bugs, but they would have to be somewhere remote with no "facilities or plush amenities" of any sort. Mountains or beach--I don't care--but maybe they'd have to pick, and agree. Ohhhhhh....I'm liking this already. They'd each have their own tent/shack, food, toilet paper, etc. though that might give Martha an advantage since after all, she's been to prison. Buuuuut, Oprah grew up without running water (at least for her early years) so maybe they balance out.

The food would be supplied so Martha wouldn't have an advantage BUT, they'd have to forage for extras. And they'd receive their food all at once, so they'd have to portion it out. Since they both like to eat, that would be fascinating. Stress eating? Think it all the way through before you do it. How willing would they be to share when their blood sugar is scraping the ground?? Who would have the first meltdown??? And who would have the most???

At first, I'm thinking they'd be really nice to each other and fairly compatible. Shoot....they have a lot in common. It's when the food runs low or out, on either side, that I think it would get really interesting. I'm thinking Martha would probably prevail. She's tough --as a old boot. And since Oprah couldn't call Gayle to commiserate, that might give Martha an advantage. Hmmmm. But it sure would be interesting, wouldn't it? When they're done, I'd like to see Donald Trump and some other guy... shoot me your suggestions and I'll be thinking. My brain is just so busy.
What about Simon Cowell.....ohhhhhhh, yeah.

Random stuff

What's up with brussel sprouts? They're legal on South Beach so I thought I'd give them a try even though my past history with them has not been good. I even went so far as to ask around how to cook them since my mom's always tasted sort of bitter. So, I washed, sliced in half, trimmed and then sauteed them with a little EVOO, salt and pepper, and a little garlic. After they'd cooked a little while, I took a taste test. Ugh. Awful. So, I told myself cooking just a little bit longer was certainly the answer. Nope. Every bit as bad as the first time-- just a little more tender. So, I'm asking you all, what's up with brussel sprouts? Are they supposed to taste funky like that? I am zero for two at this point, and unless someone out there has a foolproof BS recipe, I thinking I'm way over them--as in done. Finito. I fed the rest to the disposal last night. It just made me feel better grinding up those little suckers .

And while I'm blogging on random subjects, Binxman was a total no show last night. He must be all full of attitude since his huffing days are over. His mom and dad removed the gas can or turned it so he can't huff anymore so he's in a bit of a snit. I get it....sort of like me and no chocolate or sugar. Uggggleeeee.

Who knew....

Tonight I'm getting together with a group of pals that I just adore. We're not all the same age so that makes it even more fun--you always hear something hilarious. We usually meet at one gals house, who has a rescued feral black cat named Mr. Binx. He has since morphed into Bixnman, The Binxter, ...you get it. Although not friendly to visitors, he loves his "parents". Here's the problem: it was recently discovered that Binxman has a substance abuse problem. Yep....for real.
My friend noticed he kept hanging around the back door to their garage and if opened, he would fly out there and stay. If, God forbid, the door was closed, he would wail and yowl for them to open it. Or, they'd keep it closed and then need to go out there, and out he'd squirt. Hmmmmm. And since she and her husband both work from home, this was becoming a b-i-g problem. A wailing cat in the background of a conference call....not so good.

It turns out, Binxman is a huffer. He loves to sit beside their gasoline can by their mower and get high. Once stoned, he is really friendly and laid back. Cut to the solution. Whadya gonna do?? Cat rehab....uh, no. Get a yard man and ditch the mower/gasoline?? Seems a little extreme but a possibility. And my personal favorite...open the front door for a few minutes and see what happens.... Hey, he's a street cat--he can handle it--Tough Love, cat style.

I'm not thinking my solution will fly. He is their baby and enabling has taken place so I'll ask tonight what they've come up with and how Binxman's detox is going. "You can take the cat out of the street....but you can't take the street out of the cat". Who knew.....?

911....pleeeeeease

Are you good in a crisis? Some people are and some aren't and there's no in between. God love my neighbor....she just isn't. Period. First it was her son, years ago, with his tongue frozen to a "ferdgsicle*". (* See previous post a ways back). I was out in the front yard watching the boys, when the front door next door flew open and out ran my neighbor screaming "help meeeeeee". She shoved her then 3 1/2 year old son, Will, at me, and just screamed "dooo something.....his tongue is stuuuuuck". So, I wordlessly grabbed the hose, turned it on, and squirted Will's tongue loose. Once his tongue was free, Will thought it was great and wanted to keep doing it. My kind of guy. ( We are still buds to this day. Last year during his senior year, I made him chocolate chip cookies and ran them next door when my boys weren't around. (It was also a swell cover for making cookies and then snagging a few, but Will doesn't know that and I'm not tellin'.)

Anyway, his sweet mom just came over and was totally freaked out since a pipe had burst, she couldn't cut off her water, and her husband is in Austin. I told her I knew how but didn't have the thingy to do it with. And she just stared at me blankly....Oh, well you're right...this IS my problem..... So, I suggested calling an emergency plumber (too expensive), her real estate agent that's listing their house (oh...yeah..him....), or just so we could see the hot firemen, 911 (oooh, yeah, baby.) And out the door she went, iPhone in hand. The plumbers just arrived so I think the worst part of this is, we're BOTH gonna miss seeing the hot fire guys. Rats.
Since my neighbors are moving to Austin, I just hope and pray they find someone who can help her in a pinch. Crisis management is just not her thing.

And don't kid yourself....I know what you're lookin' at....

I was this close....

Well.....I had a great idea of what to get Bruce for his birthday but I chickened out. I told him he'd wanted one for ages and had mentioned it a million times. And that it was green. For some reason, he couldn't come up with even the slightest idea of what I was talking about. He guessed a fleece which is weird because I've given him three and he's lost all of them and he knows I'm done on those. Then he guessed something else random. Next I told him I knew he'd enjoy it.....I could just tell. And damned if didn't have to finally just tell him HE WANTS A BIG GREEN EGG (grill/smoker). Well, duh. I can't believe he couldn't come up with that. It was soooo easy.
And then he told me that was manipulative. And I laughed. Uh, huh, yes. Just like when your mom got a horse trailer for Mother's Day-- back when John had Musky (first horse). Bazinga.
(One of these days he's going to quit trying to out think me but I'm not thinking it's going to be anytime soon.)

Man....I had it all planned in my head. I was going to make a big red bow and a sign that said Happy Birthday, Bruce! and take it over to the grill place and snap a picture of it with the Big Green Egg. Then I was going to put it on here. Sort of a big surprise..... but then I knew he'd kill me. Shoot....if I were him, I'd kill me. Soooo, enough on the egg obsession. I'm gonna have to move on, though I do think I would have made a really smokin' egghead.

Winter

It recently occurred to me how utterly boring winter is. As far as I'm concerned, we could just jump right ahead to Spring and get things going. Do plants really need to rest? It's not like they do a lot. And the birds and other little creatures freeze their tails off when it's this cold. And have you looked around town? Everything is just sooo draaaaab and brown. Maybe we all just need to hibernate, like bears. I could do that. Lay in enough munchies to see you through in case you wake up a little hungry, munch down, and hit the sack again. And you could lay in a stash of DVD's for those with insomnia.

When you wake up, it's Spring time, you're skinny and no dieting was required. And because you're soo skinny, you get to eat non-stop until it's time to snooze again. Hey...I may be on to something here. No more Jenny Craig or Weight Watchers. And exercise? You can always do it when you wake up....and it'll be pretty outside. I like it. I think it'll work!

A new Candyland for me

OK....I'm gonna spare you a picture today because someone was nude. Yeah....you heard me. And he didn't really seem too concerned. He was busy playing Candyland and playing on the computer, so clothes just didn't seem too important. Never mind it was 34 degrees outside. And, no, it was not Bruce. It was Hudson (my great nephew). I've never played Candyland with a nudist before but I will say it does perk up the game some what. All was well until we realized an invader, little sister and devilish girl, Hadley, had taken and hidden the blue gingerbread guy piece. And it almost got ugly. This was Hud's new game and had been given to him by his Aunt Kara and her 3 daughters, heretofore to be known as the Keekas. (Hud couldn't say Kara or the rest of their names a ways back, so he just called them all, "Keeka". And it stuck. Like glue.) Luckily for Had, it was time for her to take her nap and since Had's some p-r-e-t-t-y strong medicine right now at almost 3, and can fight like three cats in a bag, I think WW III was narrowly avoided.

Once Had left,we ditched the Candyland in favor of the computer and an online Batman vs (pick a Super Hero) game. And just for those who might be wondering, still no clothes. (His--not mine.) Again, no experience here with nudey computering but it did not seem to interfere with his game at all.
His mom told me they now have to lock the computer at night or Hudson will come play. Thank goodness Had's still in her baby bed or she'd be down there with him. Partay, partay. The good news is, newborn precious baby girl, Avery, was snoozing away all snugly in her bed--with her clothes on.

South Beach Broccoli Soup

As a newly committed South Beacher (again) , I decided to make the broccoli soup for Phase 1. On reflection, I now remember making it before ages ago, but did not leave myself a note in my Supercharged Cook book NEVER TO MAKE IT AGAIN. If the color didn't get you, the flavor or lack of flavor, sure did. Now, I remember when I made it the first time, it got a frothy gray scum on the top as it cooked. No kidding.

And I understand why diets don't want you to add much salt, but they might as well just tell you this soup is going to taste like trash no matter what you try to do to it UNLESS you add more salt. And even then, it was closely akin to pond scum. Think of a turtle tank minus the turtle. With broccoli as the algae. And then you puree it in the blender and that's when the party starts. Oh, yeah. It turns into this noxious green slime and nowhere does it remind you to put a cup towel over the blender as you blend or to only fill the blender half way. Luckily, this wasn't my first rodeo with blended soup so it did not fly all over the kitchen but even half full, it erupted out of the blender. N-i-c-e. And then they want you to eat this stuff. So, I'm movin' on to another soup. And this time the broccoli slime soup is getting a big old X with a black Marksalot. Never again. Ever.

Woo hoo....welcome, Hallie!!!

For any non-hunter type or PETA members, stop here. You don't want to know what happened at the Farm so I'm warning you now. Quit reading.
As I headed for the shower on Sunday morning, my murdering "Mountain Man" husband headed out to try to "call up some critters". I swear....he really said that..... Sounded just like Jethro Bodine. I went on about my bid'ness and it wasn't too long before I heard shots ring out, coming from the back pasture. Ohhhhh, Lordy...that can't be good news for something that used to be alive. Long about after while, I hear Sis barking that high pitched, frentic, "lookey heah" bark that only means one thing... guess who's home....?? The Terminator. And he can't wait to show me what he's shot. Ohhhhh, I can hardly wait... but first he wants me to guess what it is. OK...I'll play. A cow. No? A goat from down the road. Wrong again?? Rodney's (caretaker's) dog. Not even close?? Oh, please, I give.

It seems that Sanger, Texas, is still plenty rural enough for....wait for it...... a big bobcat. And I do mean big. This old gal hadn't missed many meals either. But the worst part is, he wanted to bring it home, in my car, and that's just w-r-o-n-g. I don't care if it was double bagged with trash bags--that's just way too ick. And in the back seat, right behind ME. But I drew the line at my freezer. (You freeze them until you take them to the taxidermist.) Wanna guess who got freezer duty? Hint: she gave birth to him many moons ago. It only seems right, don't you think?

Still cypherin' on this

It seems you have to re-install your blog patrol for a new year, or at least that's all I can figure out.
I snuck over to Massanelli's site to see if his was OK and since his was gone, too, I figured that must be the deal. Dang, I'm smart. Anywho, since we are headed to the Farm to spend the night tonight, I'm going to take a blogiday and get the re-install done when I don't have such a pressing agenda. Plus, the Farm is still considered being in the sticks--no Wi Fi--and no wired home close enough to tag onto. Yeah....I know I can get a card for this problem but forcing myself to step away from the keyboard is not a bad thing at all. Hushhhhh....I can hear you all heaving a big sigh of relief.

Well....I just checked and it seems Blog Patrol is doing some upgrading and it doesn't sound like I have to re-install. I just have to wait a week or so until they finish whatever they said they are doing.....something about changing over to a virtual server. Yeah....OK, sure. Whatever the hell that is. So, I think I'll just sit tight and see what happens in a week or two, with the counter. It's not like I'm racking up big numbers like Steve.

I'm in Love

With a house. In a movie. How sad is that. The setting is supposedly Santa Barbara and it's the new Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin movie "It's Complicated". OMG....the house is so me ...right down to the crunchy gravel outside on her patio. How did they know that was exactly what I'd want??? And the kitchen....I have no words to describe it's perfection. The refrigerator?? Only the coolest one in the world. Even the bedroom. Totally purrrrrrfect. You know how some people go to the movie for the story? I went for the house. The second I saw it, I literally groaned out loud. And when I looked at my movie going partner, all he could say was "whoa". In a good way. James Radin did the house, so if you saw "The Holiday" and "Something's Gotta Give" and liked those houses, you will lose it over this one. He did all of them and I'm just flat ready to move. As long as it's to one of his houses.
BTW, the movie is hilarious so by all means go see it. I don't want to tell you any more about it other than I would love to have lived Meryl's part, minus the divorce. Tres' cool.

In case you can't tell, I simply adore houses. And not big ones either. Oh, no....the ones that need a complicated intercom system don't need me. Now, I don't want a tiny closet of a house but one that's cozy and spacious. That's not easy to do. And no two story monstrosities. I could do a reasonable second story....maybe....if done correctly. Otherwise, no thanks.

One of my favorite things to do is brake for Open House signs. I probably should have a bumper sticker made. I love to go through and verbally critique the house with Bruce. And we are pretty ruthless. The one thing I will caution you about, if this is also your fun and games, is to be careful that the guy who's sitting the house, is also NOT the builder. Those guys are on suicide watch as it is, trying to sell some of their (ugly, pig tracky) stuff so maybe it's wise to find that out up front. Otherwise you will need to leave v-e-r-y quickly. Even if you are howling with laughter. (Hey....I never said I was nice.)