Something to ponder

Dolly Parton is on Jay Leno tonight . . . to promote her new CD Backwoods Barbie (!). So, if you get Mickey ears when you visit Disney World, what do you get as a souvenir at Dollywood? I'm just saying . . .

Fake Fall

It is becoming more and more obvious to me that the reason Texans were not granted the privilege of 4 distinct seasons, is that such things would lead to complete insanity. Consider this situation - the temperatures here in the Lone Star State have remained below 90 all week and now all I can think of is how I have absolutely, positively got to find a pick-your-own orchard so that Little J can have the joy of apple picking with Mommy and Daddy. Without delay. I even did extensive research on this today. Not surprisingly, Texas is not a great apple-producing mecca. Strike 1. I think that some of the apple obsession can be traced to these childhood memories I have embellished to the point of being emblems of Americana. All of this would have occurred during my brief existence in the northern provinces, more specifically Illinois. I have remembrances of spectacular fall festivals with cider, craft fairs, hay rides, hay bale mazes, funnel cakes and, oh yes, there were apples. In reality, the cider burned my mouth, the craft fairs were more like old ladies with latch hook kits, I am allergic to hay, funnel cakes are just big cholesterol monsters, and on a glorious run through the hay maze I got a piece of hay up my nose and had a major nose bleed. Reality bites. Strike 2. Jackson LOVES the outdoors. This comes as a mysterious feeling for me,but he just soaks it in. However, he is very resistant to anytime I try to wrap an "experience" around these outings. See our trip to the Arboretum exhibit below. I am pretty sure that trucking it down to a tree grove so that we can pull things off trees would lead to nothing but trouble. He is, after all, is only a YEAR and a HALF old. Strike 3.

This is what all of my pictures look like . . . the back of the head.

But . . . I am only minorly deterred. I've decided to just focus on the pumpkin patch "experience" this year. Because, just like my friend Erin, I watched Jon and Kate take their herd to the patch and thought, surely I could do better. Or at least with less yelling . . . famous last words.


Old Mother Hubbard's Confession

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To fetch her poor dog a bone.
But when she got there,
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.

Well, not exactly . . . In reality, the dog is faring the best in the cupboard inventory. In the interest of good doggie behavior, Molly's department is well stocked with kibble, rawhide rolls, puppy biscuits, and jerky treats. The human food inventory, on the other hand, leaves much to be desired. I don't think that I really realized what was going on in the pantry until last weekend. There was plenty of stuff lining the shelves so I thought "Mission Accomplished". Now, I know that I am far from the culinary queen. The fact that we are well-fed can be purely attributed to the grace of Jackson's grandma (she's ensuring the survival of future generations). So the other day when I noticed an odd splatter on the inside of the pantry door, I didn't let it keep me awake at night. A few days later I decided that further investigation was warrented. What I found was mind-boggling . . . a can of tomato sauce had popped! I'm sure you are thinking, "How does that even happen?" Well, apparently, non-perishable does not mean eternal. I did not have one canned good in the entire pantry that expired this YEAR! Into the trash they went.

This is Bag #3!

And now the cupboard is bare . . .

Mother H., I feel your pain.

And yet, my current obsession is home-made sugar cookies. I even bought this:

The fun never stops here at the Funny Farm!


Crack for Crafters

OMG. . . It's like a craft show of crafty crack.

I would stay and talk, but there are thousands of
handi-crafts for me to drool over.
** Not to make light of those with a crack problem . . .
but I don't think that afflicts my readership of 10.
Now, a bad case of the CRAFT . . . that affects so many.