tee vee.

so we were watching some family t.v. the other night before wingman's bedtime.

family t.v. watching generally isn't something we engage in unless it's sports (and that's the "royal we" for sports as *i* am usually doing something else) or family movie night. occasionally, rick steves' travel shows on PBS.

just regular ol' t.v. is rarely appropriate for the whole family, and even if the show is appropriate (food network, some shows on the learning channel, HGTV) the commercials are NOT. especially so after 6 pm.

so we were watching some inane show on HGTV about what people's houses are worth in different parts of the country and the commercials come on.

the first one starts off innocently enough. a woman, a family, they're all busy and rushing around.

it could be a stouffer's commercial, perhaps they're selling a minivan, maybe it's for chocolate?

turns out it's for birth control. an IUD in fact. and, they don't just tell you about it in long and excruciating detail, they show it to you too!

a hand is bending it and flexing the IUD to show how bendy it is? how comfortable it is? i don't know why they are showing it to us, but they are. and going on and on and on and on about this little flexible bendy comfortable thing.

then wingman, who's no dummy, pipes up all confused

"yeah. but where do you put it?"

too much on a tuesday night.

i gave him the quick and dirty, but that never satisfies the kid.

and frankly, i think it sucks that i not only have to be confronted with such a commercial in general, but especially so during what is typically and has been for generations, "family" viewing t.v. time.

i think it's just plain tacky to have some hand holding and squeezing and bending an IUD. get an examining room why don't you? leave the 7pm viewing hour to the crystal light drink mixes, the hidden valley ranches, and the michelin tire man.

moving right along to the next commercial break. this time for lipstick. it's all moving cameras and lights and strutting on the runway and high fashion. this is stylish lipstick!

so then the duke pipes up

"i don't get why they show a grown woman sucking on a lollipop to sell lipstick? and she's not even sucking on it! it's just hanging in her mouth!"

good. lord.

then this morning the duke is going through the val-pak envelope looking at all the local area coupons that came in the mail. he's saving out all the coupons he thinks we'd use as a family and recycling the rest. if he's not sure of a coupon, he asks aloud.

OMG i'm trying to wake up and the last thing i need to is to be asked a million times in a row if we need windshield repair, hearing aid visits ("maybe you'll need this one day?") or a complete easter dinner from honey baked ham!

so on about the fourth ask my voice more than conveys my irritation with this exercise.

"mama, do you want this introductory offer to the gym?"

"no. no i don't"

he misinterprets my irritation and says all quickly

"oh! not because i think you're fat!"

"i know honey"

"because you're not fat! really!"

sigh. and lookee here. it's not even 10:30 am.

in other news y'all be happy to know that i've finished the hobbit!!! just in time, and with time to spare for today's book club.

for all my fussing, it turns out it was an enjoyable read. i knew it wouldn't be bad, i just need to have something to complain about.

i doubt i'll be reading the lord of the rings trilogy, but, one never knows. perhaps one day i'll find myself imprisoned and have nothing. else. to. read.

the thing is, reading the hobbit just further confirms that however packaged, there are truly no new ideas. virtually everything i have read in that genre seems to have been heavily influenced by if not cleverly copied from the hobbit.

well, they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

i suppose that will just have to do.

x.

@#$%!* hobbit!

so due to some screwy mix-up, book club is this week, not last.

having found this out last week just in time, i was able to abandon my worries about the hobbit. for the moment.

then, i got sick on friday and saturday. and having exhausted my supply of library books at that point, i begrudgingly cracked open the hobbit.

oh, and wouldn't you know in this house we have FOUR copies to choose from. so i chose the handsomely illustrated one thinking it would help. it didn't.

the first page was all this and that and runes and symbols and maps and blah blah blah. i was lying in bed in my room when i said aloud

"thorin oakenshield. oh. great. this oughta be good"

when all of a sudden i hear piping up from what i thought was the boybarian's empty room

"WHAT! you're only on the first page?!?"

the duke of fun. leader of this month's book club. chooser of the hobbit. has read the book, but read it again anyway for the club. is finished with the book, has been for a week. is irritated and incredulous.

oops. so i say

"well, now, i read fast. i could probably finish it today if i wanted to. which. i .don't. besides, honey, you have to understand, it's really not my cup of tea"

so he comes into my room, hands on his bony little hips all fired up

"well, why did you even join the book club if you weren't even going to read the book! gah!"

and then he left.

well that's not fair! i AM reading the book! sure, yeah, the book we were supposed to have discussed two days prior so i guess technically i should have already maybe started.

except i found out we had another week! doesn't that count for something!

kids these days, i swear.

x.

i'm either really smart or really stupid.

ah, parenting. an experience that cannot be matched. an experience that is not for the faint of heart.

so, it's come to pass that i pay the duke of fun 2$ a room to sweep and mop. the deal is, he has to sweep and mop the rooms i choose, when i choose them to be done. like he can't just do the kitchen or another room whenever he wants for a quick 2 bucks.

today, for instance, he is sweeping and mopping the dining room, the kitchen, the living room, and the bathroom.

it's also come to pass that i pay wingman 1.50 a load for folding and putting away a whole load of towels, washcloths, dish towels, and cloth napkins. he even rolls the washcloths just the way i like them.

today, for instance, he is doing two loads and is eager to get his money in hand.

i realize that as a parent, it's perfectly well within my GOD GIVEN AND MORE THAN EARNED RIGHT to force these children to do these tasks.

BUT, they already both have daily chores they must do, without pay, just to contribute to the household.

AND, since i've hurt my back, sweeping and mopping are out for now, and i CANNOT STAND folding and putting away. i can do laundry like a champ and pile it to the ceiling, it's the folding and putting away that gets me.

so, i'm either smart or really stupid for paying to get these chores done each week.

but, i've sure got some clean floors and there's no laundry mountain on my couch.

and i'm sitting here with you, a cup of coffee, and some peace and quiet while the boybarians toil away.

and, there's NOT ONE COMPLAINT AND THEY ARE MORE THAN HAPPY TO DO IT BECAUSE THEY ARE GETTING PAID.

not bad for 11 bucks, huh?

and at count, wingman has 98$ in his bank account if he counts the 3$ he just made. and he's DYING to get to 100$ so he's BEGGING me for another job that might earn him 2 more dollars.

aaanndd i think i just answered my earlier query.

and sillymortalmama says HA!

some days i really do come out right on top.

x.

one more chance NOT to read the hobbit.

so, i hurt my back.

i bent to pick up a pillow and BOOM! my back just spasmed and went.

it's only been in the past year i have had trouble with my back. it's always been my neck. but since i've been working on my neck and have had little trouble with that this year, my lower back seems to have taken my neck's pain and claimed it as its own.

anyhow, it's been terrible. the lower back is a very inconvenient place to be injured. i can't sit or stand or lie down without being in pain.

walking is an exercise in horribleness for me and hilariousness for those around me. i look exactly like fred sanford, only more stooped over.

we have one recliner that gives me support and comfort. so i've largely been planted to past few days.

the duke says i should get a motorized chair.

"you know, mama, a rascal. like those oldsters drive"

and isn't it funny how when you can't be active, you are physically unable to be active, is when you most want to eat piles of cheese and gallons of wine and buckets of fried food?

darwinism takes a holiday.

anyhow, this week is another busy week. with the added benefit of the duke of fun leading our home school group's first book club.

and what does he choose? the hobbit. i've spent 36 years NOT reading the hobbit and now i have to. and i haven't started yet. i hear it takes forever to read. and since i've got all of two days to read it, i suppose i ought to start it.

sigh.

wait? WAIT! isn't there a movie?

there's a movie! i'm almost sure of it! of course i'd have to watch it when the duke's not around.

now all i've got to do is rascal my way down to the video store and i'm good.

whew. that was close.

x.

friday still means something somewhere in the world.

this has been a long and busy week.

the duke was sick. the WORST sick person ever! there's nothing worse than someone lying around the house moaning "i NEED sushi!" "can we order mexican food?" "could you make me something to eat? like a burger with french fries? or some indian food?"

he's an insatiable bottomless pit of specific food need when he's sick. i am so glad he's a boy and therefore i will never have to experience him pregnant.

then the duke got better.

then we went on a field trip.

that's about it.

except now it's the weekend. if only friday signaled the beginning of some downtime like it used to.

the lord of the ring returns from his business trip, we've got to count birds for the great backyard bird count and have a birthday party across the pond. then there's family movie night and weekend cleaning.

if only getting sick meant i'd get a break i'd try it.

in the meantime there's a new wine blog up and i've got a few waiting in the wings. if you end up trying any of the bottles, leave a comment with your thoughts. i'd love to know what you think.

enjoy your friday!

x.

the wife is always the last to know.

so the duke of fun and the lord of the ring made it to the caucus on saturday.

wingman and i were going to meet them there, but we got a late start, got lost, and then couldn't find parking. by the time we were circling for the fifth time, the lord of the ring called from inside to say registration had closed.

bummer.

we went for donuts and paid a visit to the wine shop instead.

so, long story short, the lord of the ring is now an alternate delegate for our precinct.

only, in telling me about the caucus, he didn't mention that little detail.

so later, his mother called and we were chatting about the caucus and she said "so i hear my son is a delegate" or something to that affect.

i couldn't figure out what she was talking about and just figured she had no idea about what went on in a caucus. even though SHE herself had just been to one. (note to self: get mother in law omega-3 oils and some brain exercising puzzles)

so i get off the phone and say

"i don't think your mother understands what a caucus is"

"why do you say that?"

"she was just talking to me about you being a delegate or something like that. i don't know, but i don't think she gets it"

"oh. no, she does. i am a delegate. well, an alternate delegate"

"what?!? what are you talking about?"

"for our precinct there are two delegates. if one of them can't make it, i'm the alternate"

"and you were going to mention this when?"

"i just spaced it. busy day"

"i can't believe you didn't say something earlier. what else are you not telling me?"

"well, i got two pairs of pants hemmed last week"

"what?!? by who? you've never gone to get pants hemmed before!"

"at the dry cleaners in town. it wasn't cheap either"

"it's like i don't know you at all"

x.

and by pocket flashlight he better mean pocket flashlight.

me: duke! come downstairs and grab this stuff and put it away!!!

me to the lortr: you always think it will be years away that your precious baby starts carrying around an altoids tin

lotr: no doubt, with a knife that from far away looks suspiciously like a lighter

i feel old and jaded.

or maybe i just miss my youth. and the good old days when you didn't have to worry that the altoids tin and lighter might belong to your kid.

though, for the record, i never carried an altoids tin or a lighter.

and for the record, the duke has that altoids tin full of altoids until they are gone. then he's going to use the tin to make a pocket flashlight that he read about.

though i joke about it now, in a few short years little signs and clues would be just that. signs and clues that it isn't time to joke.

and i am under no illusion that any kid is immune to the temptations of the world and the tide of their friends choices.

the trick, at least i think it still is, is to keep an open mind and an open heart and an open ear.

listen first, lecture last.

that's my plan and i'm stickin' to it.

x.

and by enthusiasm she meant crazy.

so i write my wine blog at night because i have to "review" the wine. and call it what you will, any amount of "reviewing" during the day just becomes the makings of an after school special.

so i was writing my blog last night when the phone rang. i don't like to answer the phone when i'm writing because it is a major distraction and i can only half pay attention and because i'm distracted and inattentive i sound to the caller like i am drunk.

then you add wine blog "reviewing" to that and well, you get the picture.

so i checked the caller id just to see if it was "important" and i noticed the number looked a lot like my sister's husband's number and i thought that odd because he never calls me directly and so i answered it.

i was slightly manic-y answering because i thought something might be wrong with my sister and i was still one half of my brain in my blog and a glass into my "review"

it wasn't my sister's husband.

it was the summer camp the duke goes to. a very perky girl was letting me know they were having their fund drive for donations for kids whose parents can't afford all the cost of camp.

i didn't tell her sure! sign me up for the donations! seriously, that camp ain't cheap!

but i listened to her spiel and then she let me know the duke had been in her unit and what a cool kid he was and all chatted me up so i chatted her back still half in my writing and still one glass into my "reviewing" and the call came to a close with her saying

"okay, we'll send you some paperwork and you can look it over and think about whether you want to donate or not. and um, thank you for your, um, enthusiasm"

and you know right then in the duke's camp file next to "mother's name" she was writing crazy!!

double underlined.

in other news, last night while following the super tuesday results i was watching an interview with huckabee who was doing rather well for himself vote wise.

the interviewer said something along the lines of "what do you attribute to your success to? what do you think mccain's campaign has to do with this?"

huckabee responded with something like

"this has nothing to do with anything other than more people voted for me than voted for the other guy. it's a simple as that and it has nothing to do with any other campaign. i got the most votes, i got the state"

you go there mike! i cannot stand when political pundits get all pundity. so huckabee got more votes than mccain? why does he have to defend that? or explain himself? or comment on the strategy and campaigns of everyone else as it relates to his surprise success?

all right enough of that, i've got a big day and i've got to get crackin'!

and by big day and get crackin' i mean it's time for a cup of coffee and spelling. then grammar. then perhaps another cup of coffee.

why nobody shoves a microphone into my face and grills me on my success i'll never figure out.

x.

what not taking 11 million bucks gets ya nowadays.

ryuta kawashima, the guy behind the hugely popular "brain age" games for nintendo ds declined to accept his 11 million dollar royalty from the sales of the games. instead he donated his share to construction projects on the campus of the japanese university he works for.

"My hobby is work," he said. "Everyone in my family is mad at me but I tell them that if they want money, go out and earn it."

amen.

oh wouldn't i love 11 million dollars!!! BUT, and i am sure about this and not just being a smug ass, i wouldn't want it UNTIL after my boybarians were much older and had started to make their own way in the world.

because there are a LOT of ways to fuck up a kid. but i think a real quick way is for them to get the idea that based on their family finances that perhaps what they do doesn't really matter in the grand scheme because they will eventually have all the money they will ever need no matter what.

it's a generalization, sure. but one i'm fairly comfortable making and sticking to.

(it just means if i ever win the lottery i'm not tellin' a soul!)

he also has four sons who are not allowed video game playing on weekdays and only an hour on the weekends.

bill gates lets his daughter have 45 minutes a day of screen/computer time on weekdays, an hour on the weekends.

bully for them. hey, we have computer and N64 time around here, don't get me wrong. daily except sundays. and you'd think it was a national tradgedy for some people to miss it.

cue dramatic eyeroll.

BUT it is limited for each boy. the duke at 10 gets one hour total. wingman at 7 gets 30 minutes.

there have been exceptions to this here and there. sure. but on a continuous basis, bottom line is the time limits are adhered to. if not, the consequence is that there is no time at all.

and while wingman has minutes to add as he gets older, sadly, the duke has yet to be informed that one hour is the cap for the next few years and beyond.

if you ever feel a distinct and horrific disturbance in the atmosphere in the near future and you can't quite put your finger on it, know that the duke has finally been fully informed of this fact.

i think each parent has the right to handle the whole tv/computer/video screen time deal the way they see fit.

i just like it when the guys responsible for all of this also talk openly about the responsibility they take with screen time and their own kids.

it's admirable, and just perhaps might be enlightening and influential enough to convince parents who haven't already to look into the idea of imposing limits on screen time in their own homes.

all good things in moderation.

except wine. of course.

x.

what 4 bucks gets ya nowadays.

you know you live in a smallish weird kinda place when you go to the local symphony orchestra concert to hear a little beethoven and you are confronted with a sign in the lobby of the high school performing arts building that says

WRESTLING ------->

SYMPHONY <-------

in others news, we had a young friend spend the night on saturday, and as he lives across the pond he needed to be ferried home on sunday. the duke, wingman, and the lord of the ring all went.

while on the ferry, the duke split the 4$ he had with the friend and wingman so that they could all have a turn playing the video game and then spent the last dollar on a vending machine snack he split three ways.

the lord of the ring reported he did this all on his own, without prompting, and was more than happy to do so.

i was so impressed, i told him so and said i would like to give him the 4$ back from my own wallet just for being so generous. i know he's saving (or trying to) for stuff so i just thought it would be a nice gesture.

so i gave him the 4$ and not two hours later he came up and told me he'd like to put the money into our tzedakah box (charity) instead of keeping it.

and these are the simple moments that remind me to let out that breath i always forget i'm holding because he's gonna be just fine.

x.

how's about some ham with your mustard sandwich?

if you ever have wingman make you a sandwich, be sure to first thoroughly examine your feelings about yellow mustard.

just sayin' is all.

x.

business etiquette 101.

a bedroom furniture primer
by sillymortalmama

dresser is english.

chest of drawers is british.

near as i can figure, they distinguish the two here by referring to the low and long piece with or without attached mirror as a dresser. with the tall and narrower piece being called the chest of drawers.

or chester drawers if you must and no one taught you better.

in other news, i finally got the call to pickup wingman's math books (one text, one workbook) and the teacher's manual for the duke's new math book.

not only did i have to wait THREE TIMES AS LONG to receive said books, she jacked the prices up by nearly 25% from what i always have paid when ordering it!

(i have always ordered it full price directly from the publisher)

now, i'm all for shopping locally (though she is a franchise) but seriously! if you're gonna be more expensive, then have a good ready stock available in store or really fast shipping and get it to me! if you're gonna be all slow and shit, then don't jack up the price!

the whole act globally, shop locally thing is a two way street. we've all got to help one another out. no relationship, business or otherwise, should ever be taken for granted.

make it somewhat worth it to come to your store. don't make me suffer to patronize your business.

and while we are on the subject, i don't give a rat's ass if you're hungry or haven't had a break or whatever. i really don't want to deal with you while you have a plate of garlicky caeser salad with a big hunk of salmon on top it at the counter munching away between customers.

it's odd behavior in a place of business. okay you're hungry, but let's put it in perspective. a coffee, a luna bar, a smoothie, a handful of nuts, that kind of thing i can see tucked away and discretely nibbled or sipped on here and there.

but you're running a business lady, not hanging out in your living room, or lunching at the neighborhood bistro. don't make me watch you, hear you, and smell you eat your lunch.

especially if you're gonna charge me 25% more to do so.

new wine blog tonight. i'd do it now, but really, it's still the morning. a bit more bukowski than even i can muster.

x.

did you know there is a difference between a dresser and a chest of drawers?

so the lord of the ring and i made one bold step closer to being actual adults and bought a dresser.

a real dresser. a new dresser.

i wonder if i took a poll of my generation how many would say they don't actually have a dresser? not something that is actually meant to be used as something else, but a real dresser?

anyhow, to achieve this we had to go to the furniture store. furniture stores are slightly weird in that they ARE HUMONGOUS and eerily silent. practically deserted, yet filled to the rafters with whole "rooms" set up and decorated within an inch of their lives.

and just so you know, i looked and looked and looked on craigslist and in consignment stores and goodwill to find a used dresser to no avail. not only was i not successful in my attempt, i have never seen so many ugly ass dirty pieces of furniture in my life.

so, that's the reason for the trip to the furniture store.

and the reason for this explanation is that buying brand new never been used by someone else furniture feels very odd. like i'm getting away with something i shouldn't be. like somewhere someone is recording this in my permanent carbon footprint file.

anyway, it was just our luck we got the resident bitch for our sales person.

"are you looking at the dresser or the chest of drawers?"

"oh, i didn't realize they were called different things"

"mm. well. they are."

and she gives me that look that you have to be in your late 50's and bitter to perfect.

so she gets us all rung up and whatnot and somehow it comes up that we home school. she seems surprised by this. then she proceeds to put her hand over mine and leans in and says

"no offense, but aren't the schools on the island good enough for you?"

"well, the voices in my head tell me they aren't"

okay, so i didn't say that. but only because i didn't think of it until later.

what a bitch.

i did say

"well, first of all we don't live on the island so i wouldn't know about the schools. and second of all this isn't about the schools, it's about the best decision for our family"

and i can't stand when someone says "no offense" because what they might as well be saying is "i am now going to be offensive. brace yourself"

when i find myself explaining myself to complete idiots it always makes me feel cheapened in some way.

i just wish i could remember that "why, that's none of your business now is it?" is perfectly acceptable and i daresay more than called for in some circumstances.

in the meantime, besides propelling us to adulthood, the dresser also means i have to fold my clothes and put them away and no longer have an excuse not to.

bummer.

x.

wednesday.

i've been on craigslist A LOT in the past few months. the lost&found and pets categories mostly. i'm still looking for a certain someone,




and i figured that since craigslist got me into this mess ("fixed" cats, both pregnant. thanks, craig), perhaps it might get me out by my posting a lost ad and looking at the found ones.

so far, no luck. no yancey. but i am hopeful.

except i did have one "helpful" e-mail that suggested that my missing kitty would respond to the smell of whoever it was closest to. (that would be me) this helpful cat person then suggested that i pee in a bottle and then sprinkle the urine around the perimeter of my property to attract the lost kitty back home.

i've peed in a lot of places. i've peed in every yard i've ever owned, i've peed in my pants, and i've peed in a million cups at the gynecologist's office, just one at the mexico-texas border, and in the backseat of a car (32 ouncer) going down the freeway at 80 miles an hour.

"oops" never sounded so frighteningly telling than it did that day to the poor friend driving.

having camped and backpacked and road-tripped my way down the coast, over the mountains, and across the country, i'm not shy about peeing without the benefit of porcelain beneath me.

BUT, there is something about deliberately peeing into a bottle (did she suggest a spray bottle? a water bottle? i can't remember) and then taking said pee and sprinkling it around the perimeter of my property.

"howdy neighbor! fine day for SPILLING MY URINE NEXT TO YOUR DRIVEWAY. whoops! better move aside!"

first off, my property is not small so i would need a big bottle and a hell of a lot of pee.

and second, our property banks up against property belonging to the united states government. property cut off with a VERY DEFINED AND DESIGNATED easement, huge ass fence topped with razor wire, with a well patrolled by well armed soldiers frontage road on the other side.

i can see me up on the hill, jug of urine in hand bending to my task when the patrol swings by.

what, really, would one say? what would possibly be a plausible excuse in this day and age for brandishing a jug of urine so near an important government property?

if you can't take a bottle of water onto the plane, i'm pretty sure you can't haul around a big jug of your own urine up by a the fence line of a united states government property.

sure, i doubt it's some federal crime, but i'm sure it would be frowned upon at the least, and incur some amount of questioning.

and if there wasn't a "file" already, there certainly would be now.

i love my kitty and miss him terribly. but no. i'm not peeing in a bottle or a jug or anything else and sprinkling it around my property.

though, judging from some of those craigslist folks and their ads in other more specific categories, that sort of behavior just might be the ticket to getting myself some dates should i find myself in need of one.

x.

this is what i get for being cheap.

so you may remember wingman's enthusiasm over getting a new math book? and they were out, so we had to wait for them to order the new one?

well it's been awhile now and i would have already had it if i had just ordered it myself. but i ordered a text and a teacher's manual for the duke's new math book, too, so i figured i'd save myself the shipping by having our home school resource store order it.

and as a result of this brilliant financial move, i've spent the last two weeks making up my own math lessons for wingman. which isn't rocket science, i did it for a few years with the duke and it's first grade for crying out loud. but it's just one. more. thing. to. think. about. and. then. do.

and the whining. at least with the book when he's not into his math (which is very rare) it's the book's fault and even he senses there's no point whining at a book. when he doesn't want to do math and it's my activity/worksheet/project it's my fault and the whine is on.

yeah. that 6 bucks i saved was SO worth it.

today i gave him our tray of fake money and made him count out amounts of money using different combinations of paper money and coins.

god you'd have thought i told him to paint the house.

i came in to the room he was working in to him whining

"thhhiiiiiiiiisssss iiiisssss ttttoooooooo haaaaarrrdddd"

"says the kid who gets to sit in the sunny patch on the floor in shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of winter eating birthday chocolate during math time"

"well, it is"

"is it really too hard, or do you just not want to do it?"

"i don't want to do it and that mmmmmaaaaaaaaaakes iiiiitttt toooooooooo hard"

"well maybe if you actually did it, you would see it's not too hard?"

"it IS too hard"

"says the kid who hasn't even tried. cry me a river. now do your math"

good lord i went right to the phone and called the store. the owner said tomorrow or the next day for the book. she must have heard some note in my voice or must have some experience with on the edge homeschooling parents because she said real slow and deliberate like

"don't worry. i assure you we'll call you. it's gonna be here soon!"

it had better be. or else i'll have wingman counting out the change necessary to take the bus to the home school resource store and hang out there until it does.

x.

monday.

yesterday we went into the big city to celebrate wingman's 7th birthday. he wanted to choose something for his birthday from the big cool toy store downtown and just walk around.

when we were on the ferry the duke of fun was trying to convince him of something that wasn't true. so wingman said

"you're just pulling my goat!"

either he's been watching too much borat, or what he meant to say was you are pulling my leg or you are just trying to get my goat.

whatever he does, that kid keeps us in stitches.

we are right in the thick of school, finishing several books and starting new ones. it's right about now i'd like to take a break and right about now that is never possible. though i have to say, even though it represents more work on my part, there is still something a bit thrilling in starting a new book for school.

the idea of "possibility" never really gets old.

well, i'm off. may your week go well and your goat not get pulled.

x.

wine blog.

because apparently i have nothing better to do with my time, i've started a new blog.

it's call the fifth food group, and it's all about wine. well, it's all about the wine i drink.

i don't pretend to have actual real knowledge of wine, i just drink it. and now i will drink it and let you know what i think.

you can find it here

http://thefifthfoodgroup.blogspot.com

or you can just click the link at the top right of this page.

salud!

x.

duh.

a university in england conducted a study on how to improve the look of children's hospital wards and make them more inviting and just published it in Nursing Standard Magazine.

the results are in and i quote

"We found clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them quite frightening..."

no. shit.

i'm glad they spent money on that because how would we ever have guessed that clowns are actually creepy?

(i'll let you in on a little secret, some of us did guess)

remember this little snippet about the duke?

or the bag lady in paris' questionable, but no doubt effective, babysitting practices?

now, if we could just get someone to spend money on studying something important.

like how in the hell is one supposed to extract a toy/item from the new rigid clamshell packaging with a pair of common household scissors WITHOUT scraping, gouging, or cutting your hands and/or damaging the item inside in the process?

x.

if i ever invite you over for gumbo, say you're busy. trust me.

so the little black kitty did not go for the rabbit. no how, no way.

in fact, all the cats turned their noses up at it except the hefty siamese. who licked the bowl clean after finishing his own dinner and now has taken to hanging around the kitchen even more than he used to.

what a surprise.

now what am i going to do with all that ground up rabbit in my freezer? i can't feed it to just the siamese because he's gonna get used to it and i don't want to put up with him being all sassy about the regular food when the rabbit's all gone.

what the hell, i've already got two placentas in there. along with about 8 years worth of unidentifiable frozen items. what difference will 2 lbs. of ground up rabbit make?

fyi for any of you who come to my home...best to bring along your own ice if you're prone to a delicate stomach about dead ground up animals, organs that used to be inside my body, or bags of vegetables and what appears to be the gumbo i made in '03 frozen within an inch of their lives sharing space with the ice cubes meant for your cool and refreshing beverage.

in other news, wingman turns seven this week. i'm not going to go into a whole big emotional tirade about how in the world my baby could already be seven and all that but just assume that's all implied.

the real story here is about the duke. and what an incredibly loving and generous and cool kid he's becoming.

sometime a few weeks ago he came to me and said he wanted to get wingman a birthday gift this year. he's never really given it much thought before, but this year he's determined. not only that, he's willing to spend his own money.

"and mama, i want to get a cool gift bag and a real birthday card"

so, with some leading questions and a recon. mission to a few stores, the duke has figured out what wingman really wants. he got his money together and had the lord of the ring to take him to this little store in the mall.

and good lord to have video taped his face when he came back.

priceless.

he had them wrap the item at the store in a big gift bag with ribbons and tissue and he bought a card. after figuring out that wingman was safely engaged in the back of the house he came running across the yard with his gift and a big ol' smile. he was so proud. just beaming when he showed me the bag.

he also showed me the card before he filled it out. it's this 50's kid grinning over a huge table laden with all kinds of sweets. inside it says

Thankfully for little Robbie, this is the 1950's before we all knew enough to be concerned about cholesterol, high blood pressure, and obesity.

Happy Birthday!

i can't pretend to know what goes through that kid's head. but i'm glad getting that gift for wingman brought so much joy to him. that really is very cool.

moving right along to a library funny.

there's a back way into the library. it involves an elevator or flight of stairs that end at the library's back door. when you open the door it opens in. and because it needs to be easy to open to suit all the patrons, when you push it open it automatically continues to open. then a few seconds later it automatically swings closed.

the problem is, there's a book shelf right where the door swings open. which is fine. unless one is standing in front of the book shelf looking for a book. and if one is unaware and standing right in the right spot looking for a book, or worse yet crouched down in the right spot looking for a book on the lower shelf then the door opens with a great smack right into your person.

and better yet, you'll never guess where all the feng shui books are shelved.

yup.

that's some bad juju right there.

x.

little bunny foo foo hopping from the freezer.

so wingman came up with a viable recipe.

and while i am certain it's not "original" he doesn't know that and it is creative.

cookie dough pizza
by wingman

you take one batch of sugar cookie dough and roll into to one big cookie

bake it in oven

when it's cool spread the top with yellow frosting (for the cheese)

then sprinkle chocolate chips on top (for the pepperoni)

optional:

you can sprinkle yellow sprinkles on top if you want to. for more cheese. or you don't have to.

not bad. i'm a little concerned about the stability of such a large sugar cookie, and the frosting on top of a sugar cookie sounds tooth shatteringly sweet, but hey, he doesn't need to know any of that.

and good lord at least it's not one of the many meat, milk, microwave combos he was favoring early on.

in other wingman doins', he's decided to make up his own "bad words" which he then uses on a regular basis.

his latest one is "holybob"

"it's a really bad word. i won't use it too often"

and if there's anything else to say about that i don't know what it is.

and finally we come to our little black kitty. i could go on and on about the issues we have with this kitty. but she is so darned sweet i'll just leave it at "issues" and not talk shit about her. and trust me when i say shit, i'm not just being jerky and potty mouthed.

so in my research and attempt to find the best way to treat her condition i am at the stage of experimentation with a raw food diet for her.

you may remember my earlier brush with the consideration of a raw food diet for cats?

well now i am considering it for just the one cat. which provides its own logistical nightmares for feeding a pack of cats when one is having something different from all the others, but i need to get my kitty well.

so, in that spirit yesterday i went and picked up my whole ground up rabbit. frozen in a 2 pound chub.

and, if the rabbit doesn't suit her, why they've got quail too! actually, they've got chicken and venison as well, but the rabbit and the quail are the only animals they have that are ground whole. bone, organ, skin, etc. so the nutrients are complete for an obligate carnivore. (cat)

you defrost the chub in the fridge over night, parcel out the servings into individual plastic bags, put all the individual plastic bags into a freezer safe bag/container and just remove the servings you'll need for the next day the day before to the refrigerator for defrosting.

when you take a serving out of the fridge at feeding time, you run the bag under gently warm water for a brief time. enough to bring it to room temp, no hotter.

basically you are heating the raw meat to the temperature of a freshly killed rodent.

mmmmm.

you put this deliciousness into a bowl and she eats it.

(as an aside, i bet she doesn't eat it. i just bet she. won't. go. for. it. but that's just my natural sunny optimism peeking out to say hello)

you toss out whatever she doesn't finish and wash up the bowl right away.

yeah. oh, yeah, i have this kind of time just sitting around waiting for a kicky new fun project.

i don't.

but, i chose to keep this animal and thus i am responsible for her. and she is ill and i will do whatever i can to help her. raw rabbits and all.

plus, let's face it, you can't buy material like this for a blog.

and lucky me, just when i was running out of things to write about.

x