Pots and Pins

Note to Self...

Feast your eyes on my newest Halloween decoration...given to me by Lori.  Isn't he wonderful?  And how about that Lori?!?  She brought me this great little spook because I was having a bad day and she wanted to cheer me up...and let me tell you, I was definitely cheered!  He lights up and doesn't he have the most delightful grin?  I will love having him around for Halloween!  Thanks Lori - I just love him and you too! 

About my bad day...I really do live a fabulous life...well, except for a few small annoyances, (the mister...kidding!) I am usually a happy person and not much gets me down.  Then out of the blue I'll be hit with something smack dab in the middle of my face - not literally, of course, and it will give me pause - usually I can shake it off...but sometimes I like a good wallow in self-pity...and believe me, I can throw a pity party like nobody's business!  A friend passed away over the weekend - not a close friend but someone I knew a while back.  I was very sad about her passing, of course, but also sad that I lost track of her over the years.  And I should not have lost track of her.  I should have stayed in touch, as much for her sake as mine.  These flowers were for her memorial...where her daughters reminded everyone how much fun their mom was and told us all that she never complained, not once, about the cancer that ravaged her body.  Phyllis woke up each morning and made a decision to be happy...isn't that a great way to live?  Phyllis raised two beautiful, strong, independent daughters and was a great example to them of living a life with joy.  Heidi, her youngest daughter told us that the next time we see/feel the sun to think of Phyllis - shining her warmth our way. 

Phyllis' passing was the something that smacked me in the face - a little wake-up call that life is way too short. Too short to waste on ridiculous things and people...and no, the Halloween guy is NOT ridiculous and neither is Halloween for that matter...but people who suck the life out of a room, people who use and abuse, people who trample with no regard for who's underfoot...those people will no longer be on my Hit Parade.  And ridiculous things...well, those are another matter entirely, as my definition of ridiculous varies with each passing day.  But I'm going to do better.  As my good friend Ops likes to say, "Now that you know better, you'll do better."       

Note to Self...News and Views...

Just a bit of house-keeping this morning...first of all... I had a huge shock yesterday - far greater than anything on the Richter Scale...the mister FIXED my computer!!  He is NOT not a fixer...but somehow, somewhere, someway...sorry, channeling Barbra Streisand - who has a new album coming out soon - can hardly wait!  I love Streisand, her voice, her attention to detail, her homes, her husband...perhaps in my next life I shall be her...back to the computer - it's up and operational and the mister said all is well...a  small miracle. 

Now, speaking of miracles, let me tell you about my hair.  Eleanor Roosevelt said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."  Well, Eleanor never met the hairdresser I had last week!  On the recommendation of a friend, I went to a new salon...my stylist was a she-male...yep, pretty sure...attractive face, long thin legs, thinner than even the Fashionista's, but the Adam's Apple, well, that was a dead giveaway.  And IT was intimidating!  I went in wanting a TRIM and an all-over foil...came out with my hair 4-inches shorter thanks to her mad razor wielding and racing stripes on the sides of my head . I cried on the way home...like a baby.  Then, girded up my loins, went to the drugstore and purchased hair color.  I "painted" on the color, trying to make the racing stripes blend in...waited 45 minutes, rinsed it off...what was that ruby-red-grapefruit shade?!?  Horror of all horrors, the skunk stripes were now pink!  I was starting to hyperventilate...I asked the mister how bad it looked and he replied, "It looks like it always does."  Please pass the tailpipe - time to inhale!  Fortunately my brain did not fail me in my darkest hour...I remembered the baby shampoo...it strips color like acid rain.  So I carefully washed the sides of my head with baby shampoo...and the rest of my head with "color-safe" shampoo...rinsed, dried and...whew!  The pink stripes faded into a beige-y shade...similar to something you'd find on a Ford Taurus.  All's well that end's well.  No pictures as I do not want to encourage blackmail.

Next on the agenda I have a new blog for you and it's all about a REAL miracle...many of you are probably familiar with it.  A friend sent me the link the other day and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Nie Nie Dialogues.  It's the on-going story of a couple who survived a plane crash, suffering 3rd degree burns over 80% of their bodies. It's probably one of the most compelling and inspiring blogs I've ever read...and funny, too.  Don't waste another minute - go check it out.  This remarkable couple will soon be on Oprah...they didn't exactly say that but they were in Chicago visiting a "celebrity" and I'm sure it wasn't Blagojevich...

The identity of the person with the chin-hair shall remain anonymous.  You don't know her.  And my writing about the chin-hair in the same post as the peach pie was strictly a convenience for me...Lori does not have chin hair.  Repeat...Lori does not have chin hair! 

The oven repairman just left, the heating element has been replaced and my piece of crap Jenn-Air (my little nick-name/term of endearment for my oven) has been resuscitated and I am now free to bake my brains out.  It's 3 years old and it's been repaired 3 times.  Warning Will Robinson...Warning!

After reading this much, you're entitled to something nice...

My kitchen wall quilt...made about 10 years ago...it was a real pain too but I love it...I'm remaking this quilt in different colors and am going to make it bigger...at least that's the plan. 

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

That's the name of a children's book my kids read years ago - and it fits perfectly with what's going on in the Bermuda Triangle of my life!  My oven died - did I mention that?  It's THREE years old and this is the THIRD time it's died...but Jenn-Air refuses to bury it and give me my money back so I can buy a REAL OVEN - nope, they just keep resuscitating it and promising it will live on to bake another cake....it's been dead for 3 weeks now...I have the double oven Jenn-Air range combo but really the only thing that can be baked in the top oven is pizza or cookies - anything that rises hits the elements and then the house fills with smoke.  The oven guy can't get here for another week...

As IF that weren't bad enough...my computer crashed this morning.  The girl loaded all kinds of crap on it while she was here for her photography biz...when I deleted it, apparently I deleted the life out of the thing and it too has died.  I'm not blaming the girl...no, I'm quite certain this is Jenn-Air's fault too...they're not getting off the hook no matter HOW often they fix that damn oven!  So I called the mister to whine about the computer...we have two other computers plus two laptops so I'm not a fish out of water...but MY computer with MY pictures and MY stuff has died...the mister, in his ever so slight Southern drawl asked, "Did you have it backed up?"  Oh...what a novel idea!  He must have been referring to the USB stick he bought me two months ago that is still sitting unopened on my desk.  He irritates me more than I irritate me. 

The final nail in the coffin...Baby Max, the girl and my mom have all gone home...the manse is eerily quiet - what with all the dead appliances and no little whirlwind I suppose that's to be expected...but the hole Max leaves in my heart is still a new sensation...now I'll just have to start counting down the days until I can see him again. 

This is not a great shot of Max - all of the GOOD pics are on my dead computer - but he now has hair...blond curly hair! 

Today is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day indeed!

You Know You're Too Dumb To Computerate When...

You can't figure out how to upload your CD's to your computer...

Or when you can't figure out how to back up your computer with the stupid little flash-thingy after it took you an hour to figure out what a flash-thingy was...

Or when you buy yourself an Ipod because you want music to listen to when you're out pounding the pavement trying to walk off the chocolate-peanut-butter bars that somehow ended up on your thighs and you can't figure out how to purchase tunes from the tune store on line...

Go ahead and laugh (the kid at Target who sold me the Ipod had himself a great chuckle when he tried to tell me how EASY it was...I tried to follow what he was saying but after his first three words my eyes glazed over and my temples were visibly throbbing, luckily he saw what was happening and rang me up before he had to call for paramedics.)  I AM that dumb.  I can email and write a blog and even upload pictures but that's all I know.  And I only know what I know.  There is no "figuring out" ability...left on my own, without a small child nearby, I am unable to computerate.  Now you know.  My new Ipod sits next to my keyboard and my pile of CD's where they will begin to collect dust unless someone comes to my rescue.  Pathetic.

Missing Bowl!!!

Okay...I've been very patient...I have.  I've waited and waited, hoping SOMEONE would realize that they have my bowl...and not just any bowl...but my BABY NESTING BOWL!!!  My set is not complete...my medium bowl and my large bowl are missing the baby bowl every bit as much as I am!!!  So...here's the deal...no questions asked...IF YOU HAVE MY BOWL...please just bring it and put in on my front porch...you can ring the door bell and run or not...but I'd really like to have it back!! 

It's a white hobnail bowl...and I'm sure I took some food in it to someone and my name wasn't on it and they have forgotten who it belongs to...but I haven't forgotten...really, truly, I'd like to have it back...please???  I'll forgive you...I'll never mention it again...you'll still be on my Christmas list...I promise!  Today would be a good time to return it.  Yes please.  Today.

Parts is Parts...

The mister and I are not handy people...when something breaks we have to call someone to fix it.  The every-other-generation "fixing-ability gene," sadly, skipped us. But that's not to say we don't try...we do give whatever breaks our very best "once over" - for example, last year when our NEW washing machine began to make a loud thumping noise we both stood there and watched it, made mental notes, and then compared our notes...."Call someone now!" 

When our oven was dying a slow death, once again, we were unable to do anything but call a repairman.  Fortunately for us, he came, put in genuine parts, and the thing was finally fixed.  When I say genuine parts, that's just what I mean...why would anyone use a JennAire part in a Chevrolet?  Or vise versa?  Sorry, I'm mixing my metaphors but you get the idea, right?

Remember the old fast-food commercial... "parts is parts?"  Well folks, that may be true when it comes to chicken but I'm here to tell you that parts IS NOT parts when it comes to DIY projects and fixing something the right way.  That's why, from this moment on, when something breaks and you need the RIGHT part for the job, you need to go straight to ApplianceHelp.com.  You'll be able to get just what you need...for ANY appliance you're having trouble with and really, if it's worth fixing, it's worth fixing right!  Feel free to quote me on that.  

Lipstick IN Airplanes...

It takes every ounce of courage for me to get on an airplane (and a little medication) - I am not a good flyer.  I used to be but somewhere between 30,000 feet and turbulence I developed a fear of flying.  Since I fly to Utah monthly I take many things with me onto the plane for entertainment - anything that will keep my mind off of me hurtling through space at 600 miles per hour.  This last flight I noticed something that thoroughly occupied my thoughts - and happily so...over the engine on the wing there is a little compartment...that contains lipstick...here, see for yourself: 

I feel quite certain that this compartment contains either Estee Lauder and L'Oreal lipstick, based on the shape of the tube...I like to think they were carrying my color, Warm Woody Nutmeg, I only wish they would have handed some out with their peanuts.  This was a Southwest flight so I don't know if all airlines carry lipstick or just Southwest - do you?!?

Ants in my Pants...

Living in the great Northwest is not all fun and games...yes, we have rain, and gray skies and terrible traffic and taxes upon taxes...and we also have ants...carpenter ants, which are huge and easy to spot and they generally live outdoors, eating up tall trees from the inside out until they crash down on a house or car...are you packing your bags to move here yet?  We also have moisture ants...which stands to reason since it is very moist up here....someone I know doesn't like the word moist...can't remember who...but really, it's not a pleasant word, is it?  So these moisture ants live in wet wood and they eat the wet wood until there is no more wood to eat....below is a picture of my living room....we've had the wall ripped out from under the window THREE TIMES in 12 years....THREE TIMES!!  We've done everything possible to keep the moisture out so the ants will stay out...but THEY'RE BACK!!!!!

So the wall has been ripped out yet again...and the ants were everywhere!  Our handyman now assures us that he can fix this problem permanently...he is the same handyman who did the first three fixes...now that should tell you something...actually it should tell US something but call us Mr. and Mrs. Stupid because we're giving him one more go....this time he's going to use treated lumber and he's going to redo the brick on the outside of the house...that sound you hear is our cash flying out from under the window...

Jam Cookie Disaster...

I hate her, I hate her not....I hate her, I hate her not...I hate her, I hate her not...Nope, I hate her!     

Who other than Martha-Queen-of-Complicated-Recipes-Stewart could take a simple sugar cookie with jam filling and turn it into an all day event?  And I was stupid enough to be lulled into thinking this was a good thing! I should never have started this recipe - my head hurt - my back hurt - and I was in a lousy mood...but I thought baking would cheer me up...wrong!  It only made things worse!  If the mister had walked in while I was in the middle of this mess he would have been turned into a soprano instantly!    

Refrigerate the dough, roll out the dough, refrigerate again, then freeze, then TRY to roll it out...I had to stand on a chair and put all of my weight onto my rolling pin, causing my eyes to bulge, just to get the dough to flatten a teensy bit!  Spread jam on dough, place another sheet of dough on top, TRY to cut into shapes...oh wait, dough doesn't hold together, too much flour...not enough liquid...dough is tasteless...oh Martha, why can't you just be normal?!?  I'm blaming this all on her...it's her fault that this recipe is ridiculous, and time-consuming, and tasteless...It was supposed to make 40 cookies...I got about 15...oh, it did say I could BAKE THE SCRAPS!!  Now who wants to go to all that trouble to bake scraps?!?  I'm going back to my self-imposed ban of Martha, this time, indefinitely. 

If YOU want to give this recipe a try, it's the Cookie Of The Month in the July issue of Living Magazine...but know that you've been warned...

Mammograms

A man invented the "mammogram machine"...it's true - a machine that mashes womens breasts...no man, however, has ever invented a "weinergram machine" or should I say a "MANogram?"  Why is that?

I had my semi-annual mammogram today - I'm on the 6th month plan - by the time my breasts return to their original shape it will be time for another mashing.

I was once trapped in the masher - trapped with tears streaming down my face, unable to breathe, unable to move while the technician scrambled from behind her radioactive safe lair to free me with a stamp of her foot...alas, I was not freed.  She tried again and again while I gasped for air, afraid that at any moment my breast would burst - thereby ruining the pretty pink patterned carpet...finally the tech went to the back of the machine and bending down she hit some button - raised her head to see if I was free - only to hit her head on one of the many "wings" of the masher...then she fell to the ground holding her head - moaning!! I was delirious with pain and moments away from losing consciousness...and she's on the ground holding her little forehead...with superhuman effort I let out a scream -actually I think it was loud enough to register on the Richter scale but it did the trick and brought her back to reality - she slowly reached up and pushed the button again...and there it was - a little burst of air and the masher was lifted...the tech got a bandaid for her forehead and I got a creased boob and an appointment for a biopsy.  The biopsy was benign - and 6 months later I was back for a recheck - I tell the new tech that I was once trapped in the machine and she says, "That was you?!  Oh we've laughed about that for the longest time!"  Infamy is not all it's cracked up to be.   

I've had two breast biopsies in the last 5 years - fortunately both were benign.  I was reassured today that the old "foot pedal mashers" are no longer in use - they've been replaced with computerized mashers...which offered me little comfort. 

Have you had a mammogram lately?