Masterpiece Theater's new season is underway. Really, there are some great flicks on. Give the reality bits a break and culturize yo'self, honey chile...
Emma
January 24 & February 7
Northanger Abbey
February 14
Persuasion
February 21
39 Steps
February 28
Sharpe's Challenge
March 28
Sharpe's Peril
April 4
The Diary of Anne Frank
April 11
Small Island
April 18 & April 25
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Yes, You Can
I am so darn happy -- I now have TWO official followers of the blog. For a long time, only one was brave enough to sign on and fearlessly exclaim that what I had to say interested her. Now, there are two. And because of their bravery, I am sending a treat their way. Watch your mail ladies!
If you have to ask yourself if you are one of the two, then no, you're not. It took effort and you'd remember.
* I know there are more of you reading. I can feel it in my bones. Plus, I get chastised for not updating this thing more often and I have added many of you to the automatic email list so you get updates when I post. Be brave, my freinds. Be the little engine that could. Follow me. I need you.
If you have to ask yourself if you are one of the two, then no, you're not. It took effort and you'd remember.
* I know there are more of you reading. I can feel it in my bones. Plus, I get chastised for not updating this thing more often and I have added many of you to the automatic email list so you get updates when I post. Be brave, my freinds. Be the little engine that could. Follow me. I need you.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
To the Hoop
Basketball is not my favorite thing. But parenting is, so I do some things that sometimes I'd rather not. Like go to basketball games when the gym is packed to way past capacity I'm sure, and sit through two games because you have to get there eeeaaaarrrlllyyy to get a seat against the wall (sucks to get old, huh?) for the boys game.
I don't understand why you can't touch the ball with both hands and what the three second rule is. Or why sometimes the guy gets to shoot from the free throw line with no one else lined up around him. But it was the last game of the season, and we were playing our crosstown rivals (with the parents who don't show up to anything until happy hour is over) and it was Coming Home (where the boys are the ones who get the crown...hmmmm). I sucked it up and went. I figured at least the pep band plays really good tunes even if it means kids with painted upper bodies and no shirts dance around in tribal fashion.
Tonight is was so packed and so hot that I had trouble concentrating on the game. I was easily distracted.
I determined that I'm just not that into men who wear button downs and suit coats every day.
I concluded that kids with money just ooze something that the rest of us do not. I don't know what it's called, but they just ooze it, even if they are sweaty and running up and down the court.
I figured out that I really liked the industrial look of the lights in the gym. I asked the husband if we could find them locally. He looked at me like I had two heads and said, "Where would you put something that big?" I just shrugged.
I remembered why I am glad I make my kids say excuse me when they are trying to make their way through a crowded gym. Not beep, beep. I swear, some little runts actually said that to me tonight as they went to and fro too many times. I almost said beep, beep back to 'em, as in:
"Hey, you, if you don't sit the beep down, I'm gonna smack your beep."
Just when I thought I couldn't stand one more whistle blow by the overzealous ref, my son went missing and I was brought back from the OCD world of counting the number of bulbs on the scoreboard. He wasn't onstage and the band was playing. He wasn't walking toward me. He wasn't walking toward any of the exits. It was like a game of Where's Waldo?
The halftime buzzer buzzed (what else would it do?) and the husband says, "Look at those boys in Burger King hats."
And I'm like, "I can't, I'm scanning for Cody."
And he goes, "Cody is one of those boys wearing Burger King hats." And I realize they are going onto the court. What on earth is about to happen?
And all of the sudden it clicks! I am going to get to see his dancing debut. And because I had my iFlip with me, so are you. Yay you! Look closely...when I zoom in, he's in the back. Enjoy his fifteen seconds of choreographed fame. (There's no real good place to stop the video, so you'll just have to watch the flag girls finish the routine. At least you didn't have to sit through the whole game.)
I don't understand why you can't touch the ball with both hands and what the three second rule is. Or why sometimes the guy gets to shoot from the free throw line with no one else lined up around him. But it was the last game of the season, and we were playing our crosstown rivals (with the parents who don't show up to anything until happy hour is over) and it was Coming Home (where the boys are the ones who get the crown...hmmmm). I sucked it up and went. I figured at least the pep band plays really good tunes even if it means kids with painted upper bodies and no shirts dance around in tribal fashion.
Tonight is was so packed and so hot that I had trouble concentrating on the game. I was easily distracted.
I determined that I'm just not that into men who wear button downs and suit coats every day.
I concluded that kids with money just ooze something that the rest of us do not. I don't know what it's called, but they just ooze it, even if they are sweaty and running up and down the court.
I figured out that I really liked the industrial look of the lights in the gym. I asked the husband if we could find them locally. He looked at me like I had two heads and said, "Where would you put something that big?" I just shrugged.
I remembered why I am glad I make my kids say excuse me when they are trying to make their way through a crowded gym. Not beep, beep. I swear, some little runts actually said that to me tonight as they went to and fro too many times. I almost said beep, beep back to 'em, as in:
"Hey, you, if you don't sit the beep down, I'm gonna smack your beep."
Just when I thought I couldn't stand one more whistle blow by the overzealous ref, my son went missing and I was brought back from the OCD world of counting the number of bulbs on the scoreboard. He wasn't onstage and the band was playing. He wasn't walking toward me. He wasn't walking toward any of the exits. It was like a game of Where's Waldo?
The halftime buzzer buzzed (what else would it do?) and the husband says, "Look at those boys in Burger King hats."
And I'm like, "I can't, I'm scanning for Cody."
And he goes, "Cody is one of those boys wearing Burger King hats." And I realize they are going onto the court. What on earth is about to happen?
And all of the sudden it clicks! I am going to get to see his dancing debut. And because I had my iFlip with me, so are you. Yay you! Look closely...when I zoom in, he's in the back. Enjoy his fifteen seconds of choreographed fame. (There's no real good place to stop the video, so you'll just have to watch the flag girls finish the routine. At least you didn't have to sit through the whole game.)
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Much Ado About Nothing
I am afraid I am becoming lazy. My favorite afternoon activity is watching Fox News while working on those darn Christmas stockings and sitting on the sofa. Oh, that sofa...it needs to be replaced badly -- as in you almost need a crane to hoist yourself off of it. Never mind...I'm straying again.
But today I am allowing myself to just sit on the sofa guilt free because yesterday was a doozie. While trying to make sense my planner (which I could not operate without) and the week's activities listed for all four of us, and realizing that I would see my son only about 10 waking hours between now and the end of the week, it dawned on me that I had no idea where I'd put our Auburn basketball tickets for the weekend. They were free, and they included hot dogs at the game, so there was no way I was going to lose them without a fight. I turned the house upside down. And while looking for the tickets, I realized I didn't know where my birthday card was -- and it still had money in it. For the record, there is no reason that I can see to have an immaculate house. Mine is far from immaculate, but it was just clean enough that I had no idea where the things were that I would have been able to immediately find had the domicile been in disarray.
Short version of the chaos: I found the birthday card and discovered the whereabouts of the tickets. All was well. But only after I'd obsessed a little too much over those free hot dogs that might go to waste.
Please don't call and make me get up off the sofa. Please.
But today I am allowing myself to just sit on the sofa guilt free because yesterday was a doozie. While trying to make sense my planner (which I could not operate without) and the week's activities listed for all four of us, and realizing that I would see my son only about 10 waking hours between now and the end of the week, it dawned on me that I had no idea where I'd put our Auburn basketball tickets for the weekend. They were free, and they included hot dogs at the game, so there was no way I was going to lose them without a fight. I turned the house upside down. And while looking for the tickets, I realized I didn't know where my birthday card was -- and it still had money in it. For the record, there is no reason that I can see to have an immaculate house. Mine is far from immaculate, but it was just clean enough that I had no idea where the things were that I would have been able to immediately find had the domicile been in disarray.
Short version of the chaos: I found the birthday card and discovered the whereabouts of the tickets. All was well. But only after I'd obsessed a little too much over those free hot dogs that might go to waste.
Please don't call and make me get up off the sofa. Please.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Happy Birthday, SAM
I've often wondered why you never ended up with Sam as a nickname. It seemed so obvious to me, but hey, what do I know, right? And it would be so easy to yell from the bleachers when you're up to bat.
"Come on, Sam, knock it out of the park!"
See what I mean? Hear how that just rolls off the tongue?
Anyway, Sarah Anne, happiest of birthdays to you!
"Come on, Sam, knock it out of the park!"
See what I mean? Hear how that just rolls off the tongue?
Anyway, Sarah Anne, happiest of birthdays to you!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Brrrrzard
For as long as I can remember, we've been making a knock off of Dairy Queen's Blizzard. Mostly its been an Oreo Blizzard, but my obsession with the edible cookie dough recipe inspired me to give it a whirl. So, here's the recipe in case you get a hankering for something cool and creamy. Yep, I know it's the middle of winter, but go ahead...live a little. Wrap a scarf around your neck or something to knock the chill off.
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Brrrrzard ( I made up my own name since I can't use DQ's)
1 half gallon container of vanilla ice cream
1 8 ounce Cool Whip
1 recipe of edible chocolate chip cookie dough
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Brrrrzard ( I made up my own name since I can't use DQ's)
1 half gallon container of vanilla ice cream
1 8 ounce Cool Whip
1 recipe of edible chocolate chip cookie dough
Allow ice cream and cool whip to soften, until they are in a stirable, combinable state. While you are waiting on this to happen, make the cookie dough. Roll it into small, bite size balls. Put the balls in a single layer on a cookie sheet and put in the freezer until balls are frozen (makes 'em easier to mix). When the ice cream and cool whip are soft, and the dough is hard, put all ingredients in a mixing bowl and combine well. Put back into the ice cream and/or cool whip containers and put in freezer to harden back up.
To serve, allow to soften slightly at room temp. Mmmmmm!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Happy Birthday, Madalyn
Dear sweet child of mine,
Today we celebrate you and the joy you bring to our family. Always mindful that each of us is unique for a purpose, we thank God that you are who you are and that we get to enjoy life with you.
Happiest of birthdays to you -- enjoy your special day, darling!
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