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

ETSY

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.

Every Day's a Holiday

No, no . . . the above are not a commentary on my pro-gun stance. They are a tribute to my beloved Red Raiders as we celebrate the greatest of all holidays . . . College Colors Day.






I might have missed out on this glorious holiday, if not for my status as part of the retail establishment. Nobody loves a good holiday more than a retailer. So, in the spirit of all things Hallmark, I will be going with the flow and making sure that every day is now a holiday. Here's the schedule for next week's holidays.

M - Labor Day (an official post office recognized holiday)
T - "Why does Tuesday feel like Monday?" Day
W - Family Insanity Day
Th - Cottage Cheese Day
F - Hangnail Awareness Day
S - PJs til Noon Day
Sun - Get Out of Chores Free Day

Until then, you can enjoy Flashback Friday and a few pictures of my own college colors. Fabulous fun for my readers few. . .

Homecoming 1998 . . . I look hysterically tired here because I am.

Homecoming 1999 . . . prior to the craziness.

Enjoy the fact that these are scrapbooked. They are some of the few.

This was when J1 was still the BF. Doesn't he look all shiny and new?

By this point J1 was the hubbie . . . and we both look terrified.

I have to assume it is because we both know that

my credit card bill is already in the mail.

RED RAIDERS!!

More Musings about Food

I was a little apprehensive when I picked these treats up in the grocery store yesterday. Would they stand the test of time? Would they be as scrumptious as I remember? I am excited to report that they are just as fabulous as ever. I hear that there was an entire online campaign to bring back the puddin' pop. It was totally worth it. My childhood remains intact. Because my friend Fat Albert would never lie to me.

Baby Craft Bonanza

I have enough half-finished craft projects to last me approximately 10 years. However, the upcoming birth of my little nephew has inspired my craft gene to new levels. Today was his second baby shower and nothing but extreme craftiness would do. Here are some creations. And yes, in my next life, I would like to be a party planner!

Every mom knows that diapers are really the best presents. So the new goal is to see how many things we can make out of diapers. Below is the diaper wreath and the diaper cake. I have passed on opportunities to design a diaper table cloth or anything super crazy like that. We stick with regular grade crazy around here.

We LOVE baby toys, and when I found the pattern for this one it was just too cute to pass up. This is a clutch ball. Of course, after it was opened Jackson seized upon the opportunity to chunk it at the great grandmother.

Designer (as in designed by me) burp clothes . . . because this baby's spit up deserves nothing but the best.

These are a few shots of the delicious buffet, and that is something I can take no credit for. Kitchen magic is the exclusive domain of the mother of the mother to be. I choose to remain mystified . . . and very, very well-fed!

We had a great time at the baby shower. Unfortunately, it just served as a minor commercial break in my master crafter plan. As we speak, there are 3 additional baby craft projects that I have yet to complete. I will be chaining myself to the sewing machine very soon. Send food. . . spinach artichoke dip, anyone?

Awesome Analysis

I have come to realize that the one thing I say consistently throughout the day (other than "Jackson, don't throw that") has become, "That's awesome." Unfortunately, this is stated in a most sarcastic way possible. Like this -

Fellow employee: "We're going to need for you to recap the area's performance from the last year, and we need that in the next hour or so . . . oh, and most of the systems are down."
Me: "Sure, that'll be awesome."

J1: "I have meetings every night this week."
Me: "Well, that's just awesome."

As a rabid linguaphile, such word overuse leads me to fear that I am single handedly reducing the power of language itself. This may seem a little over dramatic, but just try to utter the phrase, "That's hot" without feeling your own IQ drop a few points. Language in all its raw, transforming power . . .

So to redeem myself, I present to you a short definition of "awesome". Here's what the people of Webster's had to say:

Awesome
Awe"some\, a.
1. Causing awe; appalling; awful; as, an awesome sight. --Wright.
2. Expressive of awe or terror.

My favorite part is that awe and terror are seemingly synonymous.

By the way, it has been an AWESOME week so far. . .