The STP went ice fishing with the guys on Saturday. I stayed home and did laundry. The STP asked the Goob if he wanted to go. The Goob is not a big fan of the outdoors. On single digit snowy days especially. Pretty sure he knew the answer before he asked. Pretty sure that's why he didn't ask me. I bought my fishing license good for all of 2010. I'm not sure I would have gone on such a cold and snowy day though. But he could have asked...
I made him clean his own fish and cut its head off before I fried it. (And I didn't carry his laundry downstairs.) I hope he learned his lesson.
The next time he asks me if I want to go fishing with the guys, I'll just say no. That'll really learn him.
What am I--a junior high girl?
I had a swap meet at my house on Saturday morning. The idea was to bring something you just wanted to get rid of and maybe someone else could use. On Sunday an older woman offered these excuses for why she didn't come. It was snowing. It was too early. Her husband was home. Maybe no one would like her stuff. Maybe no one would like her stuff??!??!! So she thought maybe her garbage wasn't good enough. So evidently it is possible to think and function like a junior high girl until you are at least 80 years old.
Next time I go ice fishing, I'll be a grown-up and I'll invite the STP to go along.
Do you want to go ice fishing with me?
Check YES_________ or NO__________
Monday, January 25, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Julia Would Be Proud
I currently have in my oven a cake which has in it a pound of butter, 16 ounces of semisweet Ghiardelli's baking chocolate and eight large eggs. Oh, life is good.
On the negative side, my computer thinks it is August 28, 2004. I don't think this is good. If there is a big crash, I will have to type my thoughts on a typewriter and use carbon paper and snail mail to transmit them to you. I will never be Julia.
On the negative side, my computer thinks it is August 28, 2004. I don't think this is good. If there is a big crash, I will have to type my thoughts on a typewriter and use carbon paper and snail mail to transmit them to you. I will never be Julia.
Julia Would Be Proud
I currently have in my oven a cake which has in it a pound of butter, 16 ounces of semisweet Ghiardelli's baking chocolate and eight large eggs. Oh, life is good.
On the negative side, my computer thinks it is August 28, 2004. I don't think this is good. If there is a big crash, I will have to type my thoughts on a typewriter and use carbon paper and snail mail to transmit them to you. I will never be Julia.
On the negative side, my computer thinks it is August 28, 2004. I don't think this is good. If there is a big crash, I will have to type my thoughts on a typewriter and use carbon paper and snail mail to transmit them to you. I will never be Julia.
Zumba, Zumba. Here We Go Zumba. Come On.
Started a Zumba class at the Dodge City Rec Center. It is like an exercise video--only live. (And there is no couch to sit down on when you are tired.) There is a lot of hip swinging. And shoulder shimmying. Given my sense of rhythm, I have to watch the instructor very carefully. And concentrate very hard. So I think it is good for my brain function as well as my heart. Plus it takes a good deal of courage to shake and shimmy with other people in the room. Brains, Heart, Courage. I could end up in Emerald City getting a complete makeover before you know it.
Or just carried off by flying monkeys...
Or just carried off by flying monkeys...
Friday, January 08, 2010
What Not To Underwear
From CNN: President Barack Obama in remarks on Thursday took ultimate responsibility for security failures that led to the botched bombing and ordered reforms aimed at thwarting future attacks.
This comment interests me. Having inherited the messy gene, I have struggled with organization since I moved out of my mother's house. I manage a pretty good front, but private areas suffer. I never quite get to cleaning out the closets. I loved when my car had an actual trunk. (I loved having an actual car.) And my underwear drawer is a sight no one should ever see. So I have arranged with my daughters, when they hear about my death, to go immediately to my underwear drawer, empty the entire contents in to a brown paper bag, and throw it away. Did I mention that the word immediately? There is nothing in there anyone else will ever use. Trust me.
I flew the day before the underwear bomber did. I wore slip on shoes to aid my passage through airport security. I flew back home before the new security measures were in place. I am glad for this. If the shoe bomber results in my going barefoot through security, what will be the result of the underwear bomber? Will there be airport security approved panties, like there are airport approved ziplock bags? Or will I have to strip down and put my panties in the little basket with my shoes? Will holes in my undergarments show up on a full body scanner?
It took us two days to travel each way. When I packed for the return trip I only had one pair of clean underwear. So I borrowed a pair of the STPs boxers for one day. I chose NOT to wear them the day we flew. Just in case.
Anyway, I am puzzled that the President is taking responsibility for all of this. Does this mean that he will be ultimately responsible for my underwear as well? Will he come with the brown paper bag when I am gone, or just legislate the way I fold and store my underwear? Will there be an additional tax if I borrow underwear?
Also, I'm thinking 'commando' may not be appropriate to say when you are passing through airport security. I'm just saying.
This comment interests me. Having inherited the messy gene, I have struggled with organization since I moved out of my mother's house. I manage a pretty good front, but private areas suffer. I never quite get to cleaning out the closets. I loved when my car had an actual trunk. (I loved having an actual car.) And my underwear drawer is a sight no one should ever see. So I have arranged with my daughters, when they hear about my death, to go immediately to my underwear drawer, empty the entire contents in to a brown paper bag, and throw it away. Did I mention that the word immediately? There is nothing in there anyone else will ever use. Trust me.
I flew the day before the underwear bomber did. I wore slip on shoes to aid my passage through airport security. I flew back home before the new security measures were in place. I am glad for this. If the shoe bomber results in my going barefoot through security, what will be the result of the underwear bomber? Will there be airport security approved panties, like there are airport approved ziplock bags? Or will I have to strip down and put my panties in the little basket with my shoes? Will holes in my undergarments show up on a full body scanner?
It took us two days to travel each way. When I packed for the return trip I only had one pair of clean underwear. So I borrowed a pair of the STPs boxers for one day. I chose NOT to wear them the day we flew. Just in case.
Anyway, I am puzzled that the President is taking responsibility for all of this. Does this mean that he will be ultimately responsible for my underwear as well? Will he come with the brown paper bag when I am gone, or just legislate the way I fold and store my underwear? Will there be an additional tax if I borrow underwear?
Also, I'm thinking 'commando' may not be appropriate to say when you are passing through airport security. I'm just saying.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Catching Up
I enjoyed Christmas so much, that even though I got a new camera, I neglected to take very many pictures of it. (Besides, there is not room on my computer to download the camera software, let alone the pictures. The Slovakian Princess suggests I move some pictures to CDs. She is funny. If I could accomplish this task I would have done it months ago.) Then my MIL got very sick and died. So we extended our stay at my own mother's house. And while I have a million blog-worthy stories about the week, it would be disrespectful to our Moms to actually post them.
Let me just say that being a mom is not an easy thing. And I'm glad that these two women have been in my life.
And to my own dear children: I have written a few kind words about myself for your future reference. I'll leave them in my underwear drawer for you.
Let me just say that being a mom is not an easy thing. And I'm glad that these two women have been in my life.
And to my own dear children: I have written a few kind words about myself for your future reference. I'll leave them in my underwear drawer for you.
Pap's Tea Cookies
Sweet rolls on Christmas morning. All the tradition without all the fuss.
Many thanks to Pap, Gram, and the Pillsbury Doughboy.
How to make Raisin Griddle Cakes
Many thanks to Pap, Gram, and the Pillsbury Doughboy.
Ingredients
3 1/2 c. sifted flour
1 c. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. soda
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 c. shortening
1 egg
1/2 c. milk
1 1/4 c. raisins
Cooking oil
3 1/2 c. sifted flour
1 c. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. soda
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 c. shortening
1 egg
1/2 c. milk
1 1/4 c. raisins
Cooking oil
How to make Raisin Griddle Cakes
Sift dry ingredients together into bowl; cut in shortening until mixture is mealy.
Beat egg; add milk.Blend; add egg mixture and raisins to flour mixture.
Stir until all ingredients are moistened and dough holds together.
Roll 1/4 inch thick on lightly floured board; cut with 2-inch round cookie cutter.
Heat griddle until water scattered on griddle sizzles.Do not overheat griddle.Oil griddle lightly; place cakes on griddle.Tops become puffy as bottoms brown.Turn; brown other side.
Serve warm.
Cakes may be cut, stacked between layers of waxed paper and frozen until needed.
Who knew this last part. Haven't really tried it yet, but how wonderful the idea is. Fresh warm tea cookies on a snowy winter afternoon.
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