Just repeat after me: Who's-yer-Daddy

I made this velvety dream of a pie last Memorial Day weekend. 

They call it Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie. I call it Who's-yer-Daddy Pie.

It tastes like a pie made of creme bruleé.   Really, do you need any more enticement than that?

 Ingredients

• 2 cups heavy cream
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 3 tablespoon(s) granulated sugar, for sprinkling
• 1/2 cup whole milk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1  (9-inch) store-bought piecrust
• 1 Tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. 
2. For filling: In a medium bowl, combine heavy cream, flour, brown sugar, 1/2 cup granulated sugar, milk, and vanilla.
3. Fit crust into a 9-inch pie pan and dot bottom with butter. Pour filling into crust. Combine cinnamon and remaining 3 tablespoons sugar and sprinkle on top. Bake pie until set and center is firm to touch, about 1 hour. Cool on a wire rack.

I May Benefit From Some Counseling

So I've noticed only a few of you have come to my new casa and are following me there.  Come on, it's nice there.  It smells good.

You know pretty soon, I'm gonna start thinking it's 'cause you hate me.

It's not 'cause you hate me, is it?

Come on, don't leave.  I'll do better.  I promise I'll change.  Give me another chance!  This time it's gonna be different. You'll see.

In most cases that's a pack of lies, but not this time.  Pinky swear.  So come, follow me.

Desperately Seeking Social Affections (and maybe some cheap therapy),
xo, Jodie

Denouement and The Alpha

As it concerns this blog, I've done some thinking and I've decided on some things. 

-1- The name feels long and exhausting to me.  I want something short.  One word.  So I'm pulling an Adele August.  Who knows?  Maybe before long I'll get a really good deal on a sweet, gold Bimmer and all of my problems will be solved by going for ice cream.

It could happen.

sidenote:

[I always thought it was Beamer, 

but I was wrong. I got taken to school.]

- 2 - This is my last post here.  I'll be spending the week sprucing up my new crash pad, and that's where I will be hereafter.  There's alot I like about this place and at first I was hesitant to start over, but I think that a fresh start is what's best for me now.

- 3 - I'm starting a new feature over yonder.  Calling it The Sunday Six... where every Sunday, I list 6 things I love (complete with links, in case you fall in love too and must have these things for your own self!) I know you just can't wait so guess what?! Today being Sunday...

I won't make you! 

May I now introduce to you,

The Sunday Six: The Alpha. 

[and the crowd goes willlllldddd!]

one, two, three and four
[tell me that you love me more]

This outfit: a perfect marriage of cuteness and comfort.
I'd prefer a red print cardigan.  Only I couldn't find one I really loved. So the gray one is a good stand-in.  I like it alawt.

cardigan

 top

 jeans

 shoes

five
Because that outfit was begging me for something red:
I give you this little pretty.

six

This boy, whose birthday is today. 

Happy Birthday you precious boy!

I love you more than a thousand baby bunnies.

And that's all she wrote!
See you all at my new casa, lovelies! xo, Jodie

My New Favorite Condiment

I was born a mayonnaise girl.

sidenote: 

[Any time I say 'I was born...',

I think of The Jerk, and Steve Martin saying,

"I was born a poor, black man."]

No burger or sandwich-type-thing is even worth the trouble without it in my estimation.  Wellllll, I recently decided to go vegan.  Regular mayo is a no-no on the vegan train, so what was I to do?   Would I really have to be without my beloved? Nobody likes a sad ending.

I didn't have high hopes of finding a replacement as I've tried other types of NON-mayo before and unless you like yours to look and taste like watery, soupy white filth, well then.  Insufferable.

Until.

Enter Vegenaise!  [cue super-hero noise] I don't know quite how to pronounce it but who cares!  It makes me happy!

It also makes me want to eat cucumber sandwiches all day long! 

I'm not sure why I'm telling y'all this except that it is great news and great news must be spread.

Much the same as Vegenaise.  [du du doosh]

The End and Amen.

A mother sees mischief. A grandmother, genius.

There are lots of words I could use to describe my third child to you. I could give you a lengthy list of adjectives: boring to read, but the antithesis of boring to live with.

Instead, I give you this:

Once upon a time, a small boy, only two, 
wanted to do something really badly,
as small boys of two are apt to do,
but his mother disallowed it.  
Undeterred, the small boy 
went into the kitchen 
and spilled a cup of juice.
As his mother knelt to clean it, 
he smiled and ran off 
to the very thing she had made 
unmistakably clear he could not do.

His grandmother's love this story.

Fakebook Update : A Tall Order

My status:

Jodie needs a good red lipstick, please?  Taking suggestions.  I know you're all beauty mavens, so help a sista out. 

Also, it would help if you were brunette with blue eyes and an olive complexion.

Also also, let it not be $20 lest I go without glamour forever.

Amen.

A Medley of Announcements

When I see the word medley

I think of cafeteria food.

If this post that I'm offering up today were a school lunch,

this is what would be on the MENU 
[which I used to think was pronounced me-new... 
being a WordGirl is something 
that has developed over time]. 

Salsbury Steak

The flava has returned to my mouth!  Ha-lay-lou-juh. [pronounced with a J sound, not a Y, cause it's funner to say that way.] [No, funner is not a word, but funner is funner to say than more fun.]

Mashed Potatoes & Gravy

My foot is still bothering me.  It hurts across the top, where all the lil' bones are.  I find that it feels better when I tippy toe than when I'm flat footed.  What does that mean, do ya think?

Dinner Roll

I've been listening to 100 Portraits again for the first time in years.  About 9 of them.  Years, that is.  It is so good that I rarely want to hear anything else.  Do you get fixated on music that way, too?  I am fixated, except for right this instant, because I'm listening to Pandora and they do not have a 100 Portraits station.  What is this world coming to is what I have to say about that.

Vegetable Medley

(corn, peas and green beans)

For a long time when I'd ask if he wanted to potty on the big potty Puddin' would say, "No, I tiny baby." He is now starting to use the potty and is pretty proud of himself.  [Part of the excitement is getting to "thlush" when he's all done.] 

Also, how can the summer be enjoyed when it's too hot to even walk outside?  Right now it's breezy out there which amounts to this: It was already hot as HECK, but then someone went and turned on a fan heater.  Sitting out there makes you wish you had an internal sprinkler system installed.

Lastly,
I just heard this line: 

Oh LORD, God of our fathers
this day let it be known
That you Lord, are God of the present tense.

I love that.

That's it for today.

I hope you enjoyed your meal.
Come Again!

Fakebook Update

There is no joy to be found 

in eating when you can't taste anything.   

What will bring back my ability to taste?  

Benadryl?   

Zyrtec?  

Nope.  

Neither.  

Got any suggestions?  

I'm eating at P.F. Chang's tomorrow 

and it would be enormously sad 

if I couldn't taste my lettuce wraps.

How do I fix this problem STAT?

Fakebook

Hello, Lovelies!  Today I want to talk about Facebook, and how I really miss Facebook sometimes.  Like really really.  Occasionally I just feel like I want to post a status update, so what I've decided I'll do is to just post them here as I feel the itch.

Like now, for instance.

And from now on, I'll just be calling these my Fakebook Status Updates.  Here goes.

Title: A Desperate Situation

(Oh yeah, and I might post Titles to my Updates 

((like the title of a poem)), 

especially when I'm feeling extra fancy.)

PETA PETA Punkin' Eata 
is so concerned about the conditions of the wildlife in the Gulf 
because the situation is so unfortunate.  

They should see the fish at Wal-Mart.   

Feel free to Like and Comment at will. 

Thanking you in advance.

Changing the Face of the Barnyard, Pixar is.

There are myriad reasons why Puddin' could have easily been nicknamed The Cuteness.

myriad (mr-d): 
Constituting a very large, indefinite number; innumerable

Let me exampilate:

Puddin': Mama, duck shay? 

Mama: Quack Quack

Puddin': Uhhhhh,  cow shay?

Mama: Moooooooo!

Puddin': Horse shay?

Mama: (I can't spell that one 

but you just gon' hafta believe me, 

I do a pretty good horse sound.)  

Oh!  I have one!  What does a donkey say?

Puddin': Get out o' me swamp!

Cat-Like Reflexes, I Have Not -and- It Can Always Be Worse

I went to church this morning to drop the kids off at day camp.  To get to our final destination-o-fun though, we had to complete a maze. 

From this room up those stairs into that room then the next room then down those stairs on through the next room into this pitch black backstage alleyway, and finally onto the main stage.   Getting my bearings straight and my eyes readjusted to the lighting, I stepped down onto the steps leading down to the main floor and ---  That wasn't the steps!!! 

o
h

c
r
a
p

is what I said!

I twisted my ankle and brush-burned my knee. 

From a medical standpoint, 

I think it's either bruised or sprained or both,

whichever one garners me the most sympathy.  

The auditorium was packed to the brim with people: grown folk and chi'ren folk.  Thankfully the Children's Pastor came out just then and started amping the kids up about camp, causing a welcome distraction from the lady on the floor.  Truly though, I was in so much pain I had little room left for embarrassment.

People rushed to my aid and gave me ibuprofen and ice, then I went off and licked my wounds.

The only thing that could've made things worse is if I'd been wearing a skirt (because that did cross my mind as an outfit possibility this morning).  That and if I'd knocked out some teeth.

Half-naked fashion + toothless.

Like a redneck family reunion.  Yeah, that's definitely worse.

The Night I Made It to the Big Time

So last night I was at Barnes & Noble but I wasn't buying a new journal as you might suspect, which is what normally brings me there.  I was building my fame.

By the way,
Why do people have so much trouble 

pronouncing Barnes & Noble?  

Barnes & Nobles?  Barne & Noble?  

People are all confused about the crooked letter.

Throws 'em off.  In the 

mispronunciation department, 

it's up there with Wal-Mart.  Think about it.

I was invited to a New Authors Book Signing Night-O-Fame Celebratory Convention  (key words: book signing and fame) and I think it is an understood thing in all cultures that when Barnes and Noble calls, you go! There were 8 authors invited altogether.  One of the local news channels (Channel 3/KATC - for all my local yocals - whatup Marcelle Fontenot?!  Call me!  Actually, don't call me.  You'll just make me nervous.) came out to cover it and I had a cameo appearance on the 10 o'clock news last night!  It's like I'm famous now.

I was the one over the shoulder of the guy they were interviewing...but clearly it was ME they were showcasing.  He was just a decoy.

Obviously.

I only sold (1), BUT I had a good time and also, I felt pretty 'cause I had gotten all gussied up and I smelled really good, so all was not lost.  (When somebody smells the perfume or cologne, we like to say they "smell the ha-na-na".)

Plus, I was on the news and I was invited to a book signing AT BARNES & NOBLE!  And I was on the news.

So I think that means I made it to the Big Time.

Public Service Announcement: 

To order my book online, and thereby increase my growing fame (yes please!), click here or here, please and thank you!  Exclamation point!

And now I know what herpetology means.

We recently acquired a pet, and by "we" I mean "they".  But mostly him... my sweet 7 year old who loves reptiles (and who is also losing teeth faster than I can count.  Makes me squeamish at all the wigglyness and also swoonish at all the cuteness).

Anyway, a green anole [uh-noh-lee] is what we got (although it is sometimes brown, so I don't know why it's called "green").  Until I consulted Mr. The Google, I just thought it's proper name was yard lizard.  Because that's where I caught it.  In the yard.

It lives outside in the wild.  Well, outside in an aquarium-like "reptilian habitat" filled with  black and white rocks and also plastic plants, so it's like the wild... only with less danger.  And more plastic leaves.

So, paradise, basically.

Here's the thing though.  It won't let us watch it eat.  What do you think of that?  We pour in crickets, we wait.  Nothing.  Here's how I imagined it though.  Lizard + Crickets = instant Animal Planet Hunting Showdown Extravaganza.  A veritable feeding frenzy!

So far though, the young lad (lass?) ain't down with that.  It likes to eat alone, all private like, which is okay because I can respect a thing's privacy, but I only wish it weren't so shy.  I like to observe the science.  Like shedding, and devouring crickets.  *eyebrow raise*  Yummy.

The Lunatic Squirrel Meets Jesus

I never leave home without a notebook.  Just in case.  I have hundreds upon hundreds of links bookmarked on my computer so that I have them if I should ever need them.  I do occasionally go back and use those ideas but the ones that I don't are legion.  Yet I keep collecting.  The fear of needing them nips at my heels.    

Don't stop or it's going to get you.

Like a [deranged] squirrel, I gather.  I'm a constant gatherer.  If life were a big tabletop, I'd lean over as far as I could, spread my arms out wide and sweep as much information as I could grasp, pulling it into my belly, heaping it upon my feet.

And then I'd secretly panic
about what was left on the table, 

because what if those things
were the ones I'd really need later on?
It's better to have and not need than need and not have,
the voice reminds me.

Is it though?

In my zeal, I gather gather gather
(MUSTN'T. 

STOP. 

GATHERING.) 

leaving little time for application, little time to enhance the lives around me.  How can you stop and apply it when there is more information to be had?  What if you miss something important?  Then what'll happen to you?  Adding to the trouble is that my mind seems to work like a sieve, retaining way less than I can be comfortable with.  The stress works against me.  The more I depend on myself to not be forgetful, the more forgetful I become. 

What is left only makes me panicky about what has left.  

How does one relax in such a state?  How does one "loosen up" so as not to fret so much about getting more? About getting enough? About getting the right things?  And also, what's driving this madness?

FEAR.  It's a she-witch.

She whispers lies.

You're in charge of making sure you get it.

You better get it right the first time.

Your mistakes will ruin you... will ruin them.

But not Jesus. 

My sure hand is beneath you, just as surely as it is beneath your children.

Don't worry.  I know what you need before you even ask.

Take my hand, and I will guide you into all the truth there is.
Great grace is covering you. 
Peace, be still.

His sweet words are like a hug, making me free to breathe again, to ease up a bit and to believe the truth that He's working day and night making me into what I ought to be. It's not up to me to find and implement the exact equation of information to ensure that I am who and where I need to be... All I have to do is to believe the love, because I'm already accepted in the beloved.  I don't have to fix myself.  And that's exactly the thing the heart of this lunatic squirrel needs to be storing away.

meanwhile + a guessification and also some announcements

This song is sort of what's keeping me away for so long.

If I were to prognosticate, (which I am), I'd say I'll be back somewhere in the space of the next 8 to 10 weeks or so.  Just speculation though; a feeling in the bones.  (Which may or may not mean anything.)

Oh, and a few announcements:

 + I'm no longer on Facebook.  I deactivated this week... I've felt for a long while now that I needed to lay that down but tried other methods instead, like cutting back, because I can quit anytime I want, gosh!  Except that I couldn't, in fact, and kept being sucked back in within a matter of days, so I decided to drop it like it's hot.  In ya face, Facebook!

 + The other thing is this: 

A while back I changed Post a Comment to People Love Me and I've come to regret that word choice - only now I've gone and disremembered how I did it so I have no way of going back and undoing it.  

My search, thus far, has been feckless so maybe I will one day be so fortunate as to find how I got myself into this pickle in the first place and correctify my actions.  

Anyyyray...

Everything rides on hope now.

Coup de Grace

coup de grace ("blow of mercy") means
a death blow to end the suffering of a wounded creature.

Act 3, Final Scene

Five.

That's how many drafts I have waiting to post. Revised, edited, rewritten over and over. Every time I go back they become more and more dull and lifeless. My postings, more and more sporadic. It is a sign.

I keep coming back to this place. Beating the horse, "Hey dude, is there life left in you? Are you gonna get up? Are you sure you're dead? Cause I think ya got a few more miles in ya." Ugh. "Don't be dead. Come on!", and then I kick it, because I want it to live.

How many times have I circled this mountain? Once? Twice? Now again?

I feel like such a flake. Do I have no stick-to-it-ive-ness? For once, I'd like to just make a decision and stay with it. But I'm so weak. Y'all say things to me like, "I'm gonna miss you", and "I miss your blog", and "You're so awesome it's stupefying!" Well, not so much that last one but I would totally be okay with it... What I'm saying to you is my co-dependence on your comments disables me.

Plainly, it's your fault.

Oh! But I've been so bored with my own writing lately I want to chew off my own arm and throw it into an abyss of death the next time I see one.

Every time I've done this (quit... not chew off my arm), it has been with good reason. Very good, legitimate reason (like responsible time management), (although the chewing can be easily justified, too) and still I find my way back. Maybe it's like peeling an onion? One layer at a time... God knows that to rip it away all at once would be too grievous for me, His tender little onion blossom.

Dang it though! I'm gonna miss it here... even though I've been so utterly lame lately. So lame it bruises me and crushes my very soul. Every time I look through my old posts, I wonder, what has happened to me? I used to be better at this! Is this God's way of causing me to let it go? This gradual dulling of my mind, my posts increasingly tedious -- increasingly boring.

Unsuitable.

Flat.

Whether or not that's by Design, I can't say, but it does make walking away more easily done, even if only slightly more easily done. Disobedience to this inner leading though could only mean more of the same lame that deteriorates into more and more lame. Who wants to continue that kind of legacy? And besides, my ego can't take that.

I'll tell you what this is about. God is totally gunning for me. He is trying to kill me. It's true. I'm not making that up and it's not a Conspiracy Theory. (See for yourself: Jn 12:24) I never want to sacrifice blogging. This is the thing I hold to with the most tenacity. I WANT TO KEEP THIS THING!

I can't say for certain why I feel God leading me here. I can't articulate the reason except to say I feel it has something to do with death to self, and also faithfulness to follow through with what I hear God saying to me in this moment, whether I "get it" or not. (See Rom 12:1-2)

I'm trying to think of some spiritually awesome analogy for y'all, to paint you a beautiful word picture, but all my brain will give me is this:

My acorn of a blog is entering the Fall
and then after that, the Winter,
where it will go down, down, down into the dark soil,
buried for a little while in the quiet darkness,
seen only by God and the worms.
There, God will do things to it and maybe one day
it will grow into a beautiful oak tree (down) by the river.

I'll wait while you get your tissues 'cause that was moving, right there. I just know it blessed your heart.

I hope that while I'm gone, y'all don't write anything awesome. If you do, email me the link okay, because I don't want to be the last to know. That would be like the Three Amigos... when one (that would be me) goes off to the bathroom and the others (the rest of you) have a secret meeting without him (me).

(If you're liking that little bit of genius Three Amigos prose right there, well, watch The Office more often and you can hear gems like that from Michael Scott, the little buttercup himself; and then you can gank them from him like I did just there.)

So I guess this is my swan song, my coup de grace, until God releases me and I can write something that isn't loathsome trash. Hopefully that release will come relatively soon. Meantime, y'all promise to miss me okay?, and email me some time. I like the social aspect of the internet very much. Y'all are my friends, and I miss you already. (PS -- You don't have to say you're proud of me. Just pray for me, because this is really hard.)

(heavy sigh)

Exit Stage Left

Curtains

I bet I could eat all those doughnuts in one sitting and other random thoughts.

1. Please share one middle school memory. It can be good, bad, ugly, funny. Pictures or words, I don't care, just share.
Middle School... that would be 7th and 8th Grade? Those were the worst of all my school years. Those were the years I was in serious emotional trouble; a danger to myself. I hated my life in every way.

• I spent several class periods in the Guidance Counselor's Office, dodging PE and also, brooding and sulking.
• I obsessed over, pined after and lost my identity in a thug (who I thought was so fine!) who had no interest in me. That's the year I learned the meaning of the word "unrequited" and also "infatuation".
• I wasn't good at putting on make-up (but still snuck the little bit I'd gotten from my mom or stolen from Wal-Mart into my backpack so I could apply it at school since I wasn't yet allowed to wear it.)

I was in trouble, y'all.

I know that's a heavy starter but it was that, or you know, lie.

2. What's your favorite Beatles song?

I like the Beatles.
Especially,
I'm Looking Through You
When I'm 64
Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da

3. If I asked you to describe your most comfortable outfit, what would it be?

Pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, but I'm not sure that qualifies as a real "outfit", as in "something I might wear on an outing". If that's what "outfit" means, then I vote for my black knit dress. It's as comfortable as my first choice, only better looking.

4. Would you rather host a party or be a guest?

I enjoy a little of both.

5. Do you think we will move completely from traditional books to digital ones, and if we do, are you OK with that?

I should dearly hope not. Digital books do nothing for me. What pleasure is there in reading a book you cannot feel or smell?

6. Do you learn best by reading, listening or experiencing?

I'm tactile. I learn best by touching. I enjoy the other two, but doing something myself is the best way for me to actually remember what I'm learning.

7. If you are (or when you were) single, what is the kiss of death for you concerning the opposite sex? (That is, what is one trait or behavior or habit or anything at all that immediately turns you off from considering that person a potential match for you?)
All of these criteria rose up after I got sober. Before that, let's just say I was less demanding.

A. Violently sucking food out of his teeth
B. Wearing socks with sandals or super-reflective lens sunglasses
C. Acted needy or clingy or seeming desperate in any way
D. Smelling like an ashtray or taking the pot
E. Having snaggleteeth or halitosis

I would date: None of the above.

8. Snacks. Salty or sweet?

I'm weak. I fall for both.

9. Look around you in a four foot radius. What object is around you that you didn't realize was there or forgot was there? How long has it been there?

A bunch of cassette tapes. They've been there for 6 years--as long as we've been in this house. They've been in my possession for years and years though. I keep them because I'm a packrat they provide me with some much-appreciated nostalgia and dust.

10. What is your favorite Tom Cruise movie?

I'm not a fan.

Now Tom Hanks? That's a horse of a different color.

11. You buy a bottle of shampoo and discover that you don't like what it does to your hair at all. What do you do with that full bottle?

Glare at it and scold it for being a selfish and unfeeling waste of my money.

Then I give it away because maybe someone else can benefit from my misstep.

12. Your favorite Fall comfort food?

Warm pie, the orange kind.
You know the ones....The usual suspects. Sweet Potato and Pumpkin.

(leaning in to whisper) Although truth be told, I cannot tell the difference.

Can you?
There's more where this came from. Go to Lid's place to partake.

Happiness is...

Something I recognize in myself is that I find it disturbingly easy to complain about things. I find myself far too easily slanted in that direction, but today I'm thinking happy thoughts about happy things. This is by no means extensive, only a small conglomeration of things that make me supremely and incandescently happy.

WORDS sunshine real whipped cream rainy nights embroidery hoops ribbon velvet simple but unusual jewelry
wire baskets {especially chicken wire}
t-strap mary janes good jeans sweater coats
my first cup of coffee bluebirds springtime {le printemps}
french thrift stores fabric notecards
NESTS shipping tags kraft paper bags COLOR {{glitter}}
baby's breath
{the real deal and the flowers, but especially the real deal}
bunnies the smell of newborn babies
[twig pencils] crafting running outdoors with my iPod
used book sales {Pride & Prejudice}
air mail {par avion}
handwritten notes solitude REAL FRIENDS crowns hobby stores
|red & white stripes| Christmas
my family's belly laughs children's art a good deal snow
finishing a project Mad Libs diagramming sentences
finding the perfect purse
books that make me feel I should read with a British accent
{believing God} well timed jokes
a perfectly situated tree alongside a bubbling brook
cottage gardens
{family togetherness}

What about you?

A Case for Bacon -or- My New Favorite Health Foods

This lady may have just ruined my propensity to diet forever ("propensity", because let's be real, I'm not a consistent dieter, even though I try and I sure think about it a bunch. Does that count for something?).

Cheers! To long life and to bacon!

Status Updates

As you can see, I'm still thinking in status updates. You know what they say about habits--

[Powerful indeed is the empire of habit. (Publilius Syrus said that.)]

Ironically, Publilius was one of the names we considered for our last born.

[Old habits are strong and jealous. (That would be Dorothea Brande.)]

...even Magic Eraser can't help me now. There is more permanent marker on my little one this morning... it'll take a week and miracle to get his arms clean again.

...just realized Grandparent's Day is this weekend - time to start cranking out some sincere handmade cards!

...wishes that when I decide to go on a no-sugar diet, that sugar would suddenly become repulsive to me. Sugar is my unrequited love.

...loves getting new vitamins/supplements in the mail! They make me feel so hopeful.

...just played a little Spelling Bee on The Free Dictionary (nobody's revoking my Nerd Card), and I feel like such a little smarty when I get the expert words right! And then I'm zapped back into reality when I can't even understand the next word's pronunciation. Oh well, I still have the win of my 4th Grade Spelling Bee, where I correctly spelled the impossible word "fraction", and that beautiful trophy of a gold spectacled bee holding a book was in the bag! (I wish I still had it. I would totally rock it as the best bookend ever.)

...is now in favor of human cloning. Two of me has to be better than one. Although... now that I think about it, it's not misery that loves company, but laziness. Two of us would probably do even less than one, so nevermind. Better press on.

Funny is funny because it is TRUE.

I just got this email from one of my favorite friends ever, Melissa. I'm telling you like I told her, I needed this laugh today, lest I run away from home.

It's been a beautiful day. (Now's when that sarcasm font would be handy-dandy.)

Like I said, this was an email, so you know, completely plagiarized.

(I should know because one day, I "plagiarized" one of my parents' signatures on a Disciplinary Action Report, and then I had to write the Webster's full definition of plagiarism pert-near a thousand times.)(I still hate my parents for that one.)

(The actual amount is a bit cloudy, but I still have a pencil groove in my ring finger on my right hand to prove it was a whole HECK of A-Bunch.)

(There went my hand modeling career, like a fart in the wind.)

Anyway, I hate to put off the laughs, so let's move along, shall we?

-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

- Bad decisions make good stories.

-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

-You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

-I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

-My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How do I respond to that?

-It really ticks me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fatso before dinner.

Laughing must really be good for you, because I just laughed a bunch and now, I'm slightly less twitchy and a little more certain that everything is gonna be OH-KIZ-AY.

The silver lining: Where there's smoke, there is NOT fire.

My house smells atrocious right now.

Atrocious.

I was feeling very domestic earlier and set supper to start on the stove and decided to bake some egg-free sugar cookies for my allergy ridden family to enjoy.

(Actually, only the baby has the egg allergy but earlier in the week, I made chocolate chip cookies that he was denied so I was feeling bad for him.)

Supper was to be bean burritos, but I had to cook the dry beans first. I set them to boil, added some water a bit later as I saw the level dropping and then headed outside and promptly forgot all about it.

Much time passed (probably close to an hour) and my Sweet Pickle asked to come inside for some milk and then came quickly back out the back door exclaiming, "Mama, the house stinks. Why do your beans smell like that?"

"Oh my gosh! The beans!! I forgot all about them!"

There goes supper. It's looking like a great night to eat out.

The house is hazy like a youth function. Fans are on high, windows are thrown open and I keep spraying Oust, only to see it (smell it?) quickly defeated by the ghastly bean odor.

In conclusion,
Today will be "affectionately" remembered as
The Day She Set The House On Smoke.

And also, the day I changed the smoke alarm batteries,
because they have made nary a peep in all this excitation.

What is best for YOU

While it may not be insidious by nature, with my present circumstances it is most certainly insidious to me.

insidious - awaiting a chance to entrap; harmful but enticing; having a gradual and cumulative effect
syn. treacherous, seductive, subtle

Facebook is the beast of which I speaketh.

I think we can all agree that by nature, Facebook cannot be called a beast.

What I'm talking about here is conviction. Mine. I've been under some heavy stuff since I was recently challenged by this question:

What is the purpose in your pursuits this past week?

These words struck me, too:

Every commitment needs a purpose you can articulate & define.

We must learn to differentiate between distractions & duties.

Well okay then. That certainly clears things up then, doesn't it?

How does Facebook fit into my life? Distraction or duty? Can I articulate the purpose of it for me? Yes. It's a diversion from my duties, which is to say it's a diversion from my family.

For clarity's sake, the only reason I felt any conviction at all is because I know the time I've spent there, "just checking". I've begun to think in terms of status updates. My life is not a series of status updates.

We're homeschooling this year for the first time, and when I consider the purpose behind that, it makes the whole issue of Facebook very clear for me... and nothing grand just happens, I must remind myself.

Self to self talk: Well then ya know what ya gotta do, huh? You gotta drop it like it's hot!

And so that's what I aim to do - because I want to run as to get the prize, not chase multiple pursuits aimlessly.

So, at some point today, Facebook will suddenly drop off my radar.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When I went to Bible Gateway (which is a great site, by the way) to get the "prize" reference, this is what greeted me at the door:

“This is what the LORD says—
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
"I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you,
who directs you in the way you should go.”
Isaiah 48:17

Left to myself, I would chase rabbits and shiny things (and Facebook) all day, and then complain at the end of the day (or at the end of my days) that my life is what it is. I know, because I already have that nasty habit.

I am so grateful for the leading of my Redeemer (who redeems me from myself, among other things) because His guidance leads down the roads that lead to the desires of my heart...
family togetherness and a house filled with love...

Unpacking Your (lengthy list of) Adjectives

This year, being our first year homeschooling, there will be many days that I have to get things done and I will have to learn to brave the rapids (of grocery stores and car rides and such) with all three of my squeamish children and no one else.

This weekend, I got the chance to practice.

But Mama didn't raise no fool. It was the weekend, which meant I might not have to go it alone. I'll practice next time.

I called my sister (Backup! Holla!) to see if she'd like to come along with me (and my three wretched little shoppers) to go do a little shopping. She said she'd be delighted (or something like that). All I heard was yes, and I was golden.

Together, we braved a few fierce stores, and the callousMall, which is no debonair task. Thankfully, one of the stores had an enclosed play area, with a high, resolute wall, in place to discourage climbing out (which almost worked).

SIDENOTE:
I just love it
when a children's store
is set up in a way that
makes room for actual children.
I find it incredibly helpful
and supremely awesome.
Thank you!

We shopped close by and kept our eyes on the kids while they had the most fun shopping in as long as they could remember. (It was also the most fun I've had shopping with kids in as long as I could remember.)

It's not that they're bad shoppers. I mean, they are, but it's because they're just not made for it. Their Mama loves to shop and I have to explore all of my frumpy options before making a decision which makes for deranged and nostalgic shopping trips.

We figured we could tackle that lugubrious beast, the Mall, mostly because we could bribe them with treats, like candy and McDonald's. We went into a shoe store where I had to continuously remind them to stop taking the dashing shoes off of the crispety-crunchety peanut-buttery shelves to ask us if we liked them or thought they were cool. How 'bout asking me if I think my head might explode, because yes, Yes, I think it may!

When it was finally all said and done, we made good on our putrid candy and chicken nugget promises, and partook of a few of the boorish tasties ourselves. French fries can cure almost any ailment, far as I can tell.

In closing, if you elect me President, I promise that all stores will have a high-walled embankment for keeping little ones safe (perhaps from their own mother's who might squish them in an effort to just make them be still for goodness sake). And also, every woman will have a sister to shop with at all times. Amen.

(All adjective offerings have been underlined and linked wherever possible, and do keep in mind that they were chosen at random. Thank ya very muuuuuch!)