Guess What I Did Yesterday

I woke up, hauled my babies out in the cold to go to Grammy's house while I went to the dentist. My first cavity EVER had to be taken care of. The dentist told me he could give me special novicane since I am nursing. The only thing, he said, was that it wore off more quickly than the normal stuff. He said that if I started to feel pain I needed to raise my hand. Nothing like a few words of encouragement. I managed not to pass out even though I accidentally saw the nasty needle they use. As he was drilling away, humming 'Winter Wonderland,' (seriously!) he informed me that it was going to have to be a root canal. Yippeee! Just what I wanted. So he drilled away. He used something that sounded just like a welding torch, and some other horrifying tools to remove the offending enamel. Toward the end I started to feel the drill hitting my nerves, but I didn't want to see that needle again so I stuck it out. Fun times, I tell ya, fun times. So by 10:00am I had had my first root canal. The next thing on my list yesterday was for Rach and I to wrap Mom in duct tape. We try to do this at least once a month, because seriously...why not? Look at the fun we had:

First, Mom made herself a saucy little number out of old t-shirts.

The wrappee is being wrapped by the wrapper. Precision is a must!

This is coming along quite nicely. She looks like the Bionic Duct Tape Super Hero

Or a Hershey kiss. Or a tellietubbie. Or a television antenna.

Time to remove our masterpiece. Whatever you do, don't move!

Here it is: Mom's duct tape carcass

James loved the hat we made.

And are you wondering what the heck we were doing???? As much fun as it was, we really had a purpose. We were making a dressmaker's form for my mom to use for sewing. Pretty nifty, huh? Who wouldn't want to spend almost three hours wrapped in duct tape on a Friday afternoon. If this thing works, it will be very cool. I am just glad I wasn't the test rat for this project. I finished off my day by listening to James singing 'Man-tee, Man-tee, Man-tee' at the top of his lungs. (We were watching Veggie T@les's silly song called 'Endangered Love' about Barbara Manatee) No wonder I was so tired last night.

Franch Beauty Secrets 101

Since I know you have come to trust this blog to inform you of all the latest and greatest in beauty tips, here you go: Franch Beauty Secrets 101. Even a Franch girl knows a thing or two about maintaining a lovely visage. Here is everything you need to know to look good, Franch-style.

Make sure to shower after helping brand cattle. While eau de burnt hide may be popular in some cultures, ours ain’t one of them. This scent is similar to cigarette smoke in that it leeches into every pore of you body, so scrub up!

When burning ditches with you new boyfriend, don’t trust that he will notice that you beautiful face is coated in dirt and grime. Enough dirt and grime to etch ‘wash me’ into your forehead. It’s not exactly professional to show up to your day job looking like you just finished taking a dirt bath.

Familiarize yourself with the construction of a French braid. This versatile hairstyle may not be all that in-style, but it keeps your hair in one place and out of your face. It is also the perfect hairstyle for camping. French braid your hair while it is still wet. It will dry nicely in the shape of the braid and the next morning, all you have to do is re-braid it or, if your lucky, you won’t have to do anything. That will give you time to worry more about the large rodents that were trying to break into your tent the night before.

Long fingernails are not very practical. Unless you want to spend every evening picking manure out from under your nails and replacing broken ones, don’t bother.

And last but not least, the beauty secret you are all clamoring for: the secret to nice skin. First, let me ask you: What do a college girl, a beautician and a rancher have in common? If you guessed Utter Butter, you are correct! This stuff is excellent for skin, hands and udders of all kinds. It can be purchased at your local farm supply, or on the internet if you don’t happen to have a farm supply at your disposal. It looks like this, and even provides you with all the frost protection you'll ever need:

Bonus Beauty Secret: This is not to be confused with Bag Balm, also made for those of the bovine persuasion, which is excellent for chapped skin, especially feet. It looks like this:

Kid Update

The kids are growing so fast; I wish I could bottle up the essence of every stage so I can remember it later. James is starting to use his toys to pretend. His latest favorite toys are tractors and his 'peoples' (Nativity Set). He is always looking around for Jeeee-sus. Its kind of weird to say 'Jesus is under the couch cushion.' But at least he's getting to learn about the Christmas story. James is still recovering from having his cousin here to play for 5 days. Although he had fun, it was a lot to process for him. He has been taking long naps and throwing lots of fits. I like the naps part. I have gotten a lot done. Katie is growing like a weed. She'll be three months soon; its hard to believe! She smiles and laughs and its so cute. She really likes us to get up to her face and interact with her. She also likes to look at the mirror on her swing. Its so fun watching James and Katie together. I know they will have their fights and their moments, but I look forward to seeing them learn to interact with each other and share their own memories.

Its Officially COLD!

We had the first snow of the season on Sunday. It really was only a light dusting, but enough to create panic amongst the natives. Why everyone gets all worked up about a microscopic amount of snow, I will never understand. We saw a snowplow on the way to church which sent my sister-in-law into a fit of laughter. That's what we do around here; we run out and get bread, eggs and milk in case the roads become impassible and we are all faced with starving to death or gnawing off a limb or two. By we, I don't me US, I mean the natives. However you feel about the snow, one thing is certain. It has officially gotten cold. Today we were supposed to have a high of 36 with a wind chill of 21 degrees. While it is certainly not frigid, it is pretty darn chilly. I think, sadly, I will have to pack away my sandals for the year. I wore them Saturday and my sister-in-law asked me what in the world I was doing wearing sandals. I told her I was in denial. She said I was on glue. She's probably right. When my toes turn blue, that might be nature's way of telling me to put some socks on!

Meanwhile, Back at the Franch

Out in these-here-parts, most people think that meat comes in a cellophane package from the grocery store. Chickens come pre-plucked and beheaded. Most people have not stepped in manure, or realized that a dried cowpie makes a good Frisbee. If you are wondering what a cowpie is, then you are probably one of these-here people I am talking about. Although Jeff and I never saw our experiences as unique or exciting, we have been asked many times to recount various ‘Colorado stories’ in our time here. It seems that our experiences were unique or exciting, or something. So in the interest of posterity, I will write a few posts every now and then entitled “Meanwhile, Back at the Franch.” No, I did not make a typo. We were explaining the nuances between farms and ranches to some friends of ours out here, and someone asked what it was called when someone raised both livestock and crops. They asked if it was called a Franch. So there you go. In this series, I will entertain or disgust you with tales of frozen steers, prairie dog vacuums, mutton busting, chicken beheading, and many other wonderful things. Sound exciting?

So, the first story. Nothing will put the fear into you like seeing your mom butcher a few chickens. I remember when I was a kid, someone gave us some chickens. Live chickens. For the purpose of eating. So my mom took them out back, grabbed them by their scrawny necks and chopped their little heads off. I don’t remember what was more memorable: the fact that my mom just effortlessly chopped the heads off a few chickens or seeing the chickens running all over the place without their noggins. I also remember the smell of the fresh, raw chickens. Mom had spread brown paper over the table and laid the chickens out pluck all their feathers. Incidentally, chicken’s feet make excellent entertainment. Just take a pocket knife, peel off a little of the skin around the ankle, and pull on the tendons. Fun times. Fun times.

The last week in pictures....

J&M; Dylan taped to his bike thanks to Uncle Phil

Reading with 'Baw-Paw'; Dylan

Our First Snow; Trying to pin Dylan down for a picture

Auntie Marinda and Katie; Big Smile!

Sweet little baby!

On the Topic of Mullets

File this one under the Redneck category: mullets. Back in the day, people used to get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say, 'Dang, I look good!" Even when they looked like this:

For a brief moment in time, the mullet was in style. And it was about as cool as this guy's sunglasses. After that brief moment faded, most people went on with their lives. Some people just couldn't give up. Those people who refused to cut off the ape-drape are now classified, at least in my book, as rednecks. I don't think I need to explain any further, except to quote a pro-mullet website's definition of 'Mulletude':

mulletude (mu' li' tewd) the attitude that comes with the adornment of the mullet, behaviors can include the following: beating one's spouse, scowling or sneering at those who don't have mullets, engaging in fights on a regular basis (preferably with those who are not part of the mullet brotherhood), stealing, attending monster truck rallies, driving a Chevrolet Camaro (model years 1970-1993) or mini-truck, getting angry at the drop of a hat, speaking in an inappropriately loud voice.

Sounds pretty Redneck to me. And since you asked, here is a brief synopsis of the mullet. Terms used to describe the mullet include 'ape-drape,' 'bi-level,' 'el-camino,' 'neck warmer,' 'mudflap,' and my personal favorite, 'the achey breaky bad mistakey.' It is also referred to as 'business in the front, party in the back.' There are a few subcategories within the mullet genre that are as follows:

Behold, the skullet.

And the fem-mullet.

And the rat tail.

And last but not least, the family mullet.

I actually had a friend who will remain nameless who wanted me to perm his mullet. In 1998. I told him that my parents raised me better than that and that I would have no part
of such foolishness. Seriously.

Now that you have been enlightened about the wonderful qualities of the mullet, don't you feel better? I don't. I have just wasted a lot of time looking up stupid mullet pictures so I could write mindless drivel when I should have been sleeping.

Support Your Local Crooks

Jeff's sister and brother-in-law own a used car lot in Colorado. They are not your stereotypical sleazy used car place, although people with cigarettes hanging out their mouths would say otherwise. Apparently a kid bought a truck from them, and wanted to return it for a refund. Why not, right? He saved his receipt and everything. Anyway, he bought a truck as-is, knowing that the fuel gauge was broken, then decided he wasn't happy with that. John bent over backwards and offered to fix the problem for him, even though he bought it AS-IS. He even offered to trade it for something else. The kid refused and wanted his money back. So now he has wrangled his family into picketing the car lot. Who ever heard of such a thing?! I am sure signs written in marker saying 'Honk if you hate J&M' are incredibly effective. John, seeing the possibility in all this, seized the moment by joining them with his own sign: 'Will work for beer' He also recognized a good opportunity to wear his mullet wig.

Its always good to have a chance to wear the mullet wig.

Word to Your Mamma

An Ode to Green Chilies

If loving you is wrong,
I don't want to be right.

Your green roasted goodness
Is out of sight.

And pork in a can may seem weird to you,
But is sure is good,
That much is true.

As you see, I have mad skills when it comes to poetry writing. I also like Stoke's Green Chile Sauce with Pork.

Look what my sister-in-law brought me in her suitcase:

I am doing a happy dance right now. And, as if that weren't enough, she brought me twelve whole cans of this:

Did I mention I am a little excited?!

Uh, Where's The Rest Of My Tree?

It was the Black Friday deal worth getting up for, or so I thought. A very plush looking Christmas tree bragging 800+ tips and 7 1/2 feet tall on sale for $30. (Regular Price: $100) So I hauled my sorry butt out of bed and to the store to score my bargain tree. The picture on the box showed a nice full tree that would be just perfect. This is what was in the box:

Yes, indeed, this was IT! Nice and plush, huh?! Jeff pointed out that it was only 7 1/2 feet tall because it started 2 feet off the ground. James could sit under it.

After a LOT of fluffing, this is what we got. It is obviously not even close to the tree on the box, but it is better than our previous tree, so we decided to keep it around. Jeff gave it a trim to reduce the ill-proportioned trunk. Ahh, nothing says Christmas like cutting down your own fake tree. I feel so nostalgic.

This just proves that with enough ornaments, you can cover up anything! So there it is in all its glory...the Black Friday special!

The Creamed Corn Bandito Strikes Again!

Eggs make a distinctive sound as they thud against the side of a house. It was this squishy sound we heard as we sat in our living room last night. Those sounds were immediately followed by the sound of our collective blood pressure going through the roof! The egg-hurling assailant had the nerve to egg our house a second time, when it was obvious we were home. During the course of a thorough investigation, which took about 3 seconds, we determined that the only possible place for the eggs to be thrown from was, alas, the neighbor’s backyard. Jeff immediately went to pay a little visit. The subject in question was kind enough to answer the door and deny everything. Jeff gave him several chances to come clean, but he maintained his innocence. Jeff told him that if he didn’t do it then someone had been in his backyard, and that he was going to call the cops. Since the kid was sure he didn’t do it, we called the cops. After another brief investigation, the cop determined that it was, indeed, the neighbor kid. He went over and talked to him. The kid denied any part of it. Anyway, the officer quickly tracked down the mother and gave her the scoop. She called her son, who grudgingly admitted to throwing ‘only two eggs.’ (Mysteriously, someone else must have had the same idea at the same time, because there were at least four fresh eggs dripping down our siding.) He did mention to her that he had eaten five eggs. Sounds very likely. Anyway, the Corn Bandit was caught. Now for his trespasses he will have to stand before a jury of retired police officers and the community, who will sentence him to community service and probation. This morning at 7:30 there was a knock on our door. There was the kid, in his pajamas in the freezing cold, with his mom. She was very apologetic. She hauled him over to apologize. She found out about the corn and the previous egg-ings, which made her even more angry. She was yelling at him, apologizing to us, trying to get him to confess, apologizing some more. It was quite dramatic for being 7:30 in the morning. We told the kid, who is 14, about Jeff’s brother and how stupid crimes that seem like fun can get you locked up for a long time. We told them we had no hard feelings against them, we just wanted it to stop. His mom assured us that it shouldn’t happen again. She made him come back over and scrub everything up. Its cold and breezy, and there he was scrubbing eggs and cream of corn off our house. James kept pointing out the window saying ‘guy, guy.’ Yeah, James, that’s a guy who’s probably wondering why he ever thought throwing eggs was fun.
Here is the bandit at work: scrubbing up his mess! (PS. Photo compliments of Jeff, who insisted I post it!)

Thanksgiving Miracle

James' Latest Adventure

Last night, James went to the movies! Jeff took James to see a sneak preview of "The Pir@tes Who D@n't Do Anything," a new Veggie T@les movie coming out in January. We weren't sure if he would sit through the whole thing, but he did. Afterward, they had Jeff fill out a survey and gave James a handful of Veggie gear: posters, a magnet, and trading cards! When James came home, you could tell he was walking on cloud nine. He was so excited, running around saying 'pie-wits!' So James' first theater experience was a success. He now has his 'pie-wits' poster hanging above his crib.

My most favorite people!

Here are a few of the latest pictures. Last night James had his first real 'flesh wound.' He was playing and took a dive on the carpet. Jeff told him that putting this ridiculous paper on his nose the bleeding would stop. It was just a thinly-veiled excuse to get a funny picture. James has been stringing some goofy words together. After hitting his sister (not a normal behavior for him, by the way) and getting a time-out, he said to her, "Saw-wee Kee-keet; bench time-ow." And the phrase of the day is "Daddy Pee-tot," translated means Daddy Peacock. He saw a peacock once, with Jeff, about a month ago. Apparently he hasn't forgotten about it. Katie is getting so big. She is smiling and cooing. She even sounds like she is laughing every now and then. Its amazing how very fast they change!

We Got Creamed

Cream of Corned, that is. Yesterday we were out on our patio and lo and behold I saw what appeared to be corn on our window. I quickly discounted the corn idea, as it seemed implausible. I realized just as quickly that it couldn't have come from a bird, either. Unless the bird was very skilled at low-flying shenanigans. (We have a roof that overhangs our patio) Then I saw an egg shell...right below the egg that was splattered on our house! I looked around and realized that our house had been egged. But alas! We must explain the corn. There, lying on the patio, was an opened can of cream of corn, with its contents splattered hither and yon. We had been cream-of-corned! Who does this, you wonder? I am not sure if creamed corn is the newest teenage prank, or if they just couldn't find enough eggs. Obviously, the kids who did it were not very smart. The only possible trajectory of the flying food originates in our neighbor's backyard. They have teenagers. Apparently they couldn't think of anything better to do that egg/corn their neighbor's house. We've never had trouble before. They actually seemed like nice young chaps. Every once in a while they come over to get their football from our yard. I have no idea why they decided that our house should be the target of their exploits. Or why they decided to hurl a can of creamed corn at the side of our house.

Free Rice

You don't have to be munificent to give free rice to hungry people. Check out freerice to become sagacious and abet a good cause. You might even learn what hemidemisemiquaver means!

Say cheese!

James helping Katie take a picture with his camera

Can you believe how big she is getting?! She has grown 3 whole inches in 2 short months and has gained a little over 3 pounds.

Call in the Grammer Police!

James is talking in sentences. Incomplete sentences. Sentence fragments. Whatever. He is two. And he's starting to string words together. Here are a few examples of his handiwork:
"Baby stinky"
"Baby Ni-Nigh"
"Baby Eat"
"Bike Mine"
"Me Picture"
Isn't he a genius? Pretty soon he have his own blog! I know I sound like the obnoxious bragging parent. Its just so darn exciting when your two year old says "Baby burp...ha..ha...ha!"

Dear Eric,

A Rebuttal To Your Rebuttal

I would like to respond to a friendly little comment left by "pianoguyonstage", who in response to a previous blog entry regarding pregnancy/birth, said:

"Hey Meg! This is Eric. I feel the need to comment on some of these blogs so here I go. Oh and I recently picked up a copy of the New York Times to see where your front page articles are being published but alas, I couldn't find your writings. Must be my eyes. Also, I feel the desperate need and desire to publish a rebuttal. You do not talk about the extreme pain the poor husband has to go through during the birth. He has to deal with down time...lots of it. Oh and the yelling and name calling. Sometimes, the husband's feelings are hurt here. I also think it's a Tragedy that the woman gets whatever drugs she wants and the poor husband..(who so despeartely needs Vicodin) gets nothing!!!!! Please remind Rachel of these hardships we husbands go through."

Ah, where to begin? First of all, it must be your eyes. I have a daily column which is very popular I might add. Second of all, extreme pain!?! Down time?! Need for drugs?! Please tell me, so I can clarify with Rach, what extreme pain does the husband go through during childbirth? Is it extremely painful to sit on a comfy chair and watch re-runs while your wife is having contractions? Or is it extremely painful to loose your beauty rest because your wife decides to go into labor in the middle of the night? And since when is 'down time' such a punishment? Would you rather be birthing a human being? And why the need for Vicodin? Candi and I have managed to have a few babies without any drugs at all, so I don't see what the big deal is. Also, I would like to clarify. I don't know what your sweet wifey was yelling as she birthed your three children. (Knowing her it was nothing but sweetness) Maybe she was yelling because you told her 'you felt her pain.' I think that would make me yell too. For myself, there was no yelling/name-calling directed towards my hubby. He just sat off to the side and tried not to turn green. He did mention afterward that he didn't know if he could go through it again. He said it was very intense. Hmm...for him or for ME? So, to quote your dear wife, 'Puh-leeeeeze,' get a grip. Be glad you just get to sit there next to her, even if she is yelling a few choice phrases every now and then. So, when are you going to have the next one?!

Sincerely,

Meg

Oh, Happy Day!

I woke up this morning at 4:00 am. I was a little groggy, but quickly realized that Katie hadn't gotten up to eat yet. She normally gets up around 2 or 3. So, as every mother does the first time her baby sleeps longer than normal, I checked on her about 5 times in a row. After I determined that she was breathing and in fact sleeping quite peacefully, I went back to sleep. She didn't get up to eat till 5:08 am! She slept through the night!!! I realize it may be a fluke, but I take what sleep I can get, and it was nice.

To top it off, Mom came over this morning to watch the kiddies so that I could go grocery shopping. It is so nice to be able to run out and get things done without having to worry about keeping everybody happy and retrieving wayward Sippy cups. Not only did I go grocery shopping, but I followed my list and only bought two things that weren't on it. I feel so organized, which is SO out of character for me! And to top it off, I have a menu made up for the next month. Hopefully that pays off and makes for less chaos in the kitchen!

'Mootz' are Extinct!

Sadly, the 'mootz' are extinct. They have been replaced with regular ol' moose. The 'motz' have died too. They were replaced with mice. Fortunately, the 'peets' have not yet met their demise. If you are wondering what in the world I am talking about, James is learning the fine art of enunciation. Sort of. The cute ways he began to say words are slowly being replaced with more accurate pronunciation. He's still got a long way to go, but I already miss hearing him say 'arf, pees?' (Something to eat, please) Now he says 'way-sins, pees?' (Raisins) or 'bat-suls' (pretzels). He used to call 'Mommy-a' or 'Daddy-a' for help. Now he can say 'helpees!' He also says 'bapack' for a piggy back ride, which he calls a backpack. So while he's not exactly pronouncing things correctly, he's coming right along. I am sure he will come up with a lot more cute ones before this stage passes.

Its Like Christmas...

...Except you never get to open the presents. For a two year old, this is torture! We have 95 shoe boxes crammed all around our house filled with toys, stuffed animals, candy and lots of other kid stuff. I am getting them ready to drop off for Operation Christmas Child. (We didn't fill all 95, our church did) James doesn't really understand the part about sharing with others. He just doesn't understand why he can't rip the paper off and take the doggy he knows is inside one of the boxes. Hopefully they'll be on their way soon and arrive in time for Christmas!

A Few Pictures

Argh!

Its a tragedy, folks! I went to the dentist yesterday and he so kindly informed my that I have, after 27 years, acquired my first cavity.

And my second.

And my third.

And my fourth.

Yes! I have four cavities! I was stunned, depressed, and felt like crying. Where did they come from? He informed me that one of them is big, very very BIG. He said the words root canal. I think I stopped breathing. He was very surprised at how all of the sudden I had such a huge cavity, and three others to boot. But, he informed me that he has had many patients who's teeth were fine until pregnancy and then, boom! Cavities! Apparently something during pregnancy triggers the teeth to go 'crazy' as he put it. So now I have to have them drill a nice hole in my tooth to see whether I need a filling or a root canal. And I am not looking forward to it. I have gone long enough without any dental work, and I am not excited about starting now. I wish I could postpone it but the kind dentist informed me that although the cavity is not at the surface of my tooth, one of these days 'you'll be eating a banana and a chunk of your tooth will just fall off.' Uh, nice. I guess I will be setting my appointment ASAP. Waaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Activity for a Rainy Day

Oh, my! Check out this website and see the absolute craziness that can be made out of duct tape! Duck Tape gives out scholarships to teenagers every year for outfits made entirely out of duct tape. Its insane! There are a zillion colors and patterns of tape now. Click on the Class of '07 logo to see the best of the best.

Duct Tape Prom Pictures

I think it would be super-cute to make James a suit out of duct tape, but by the time I finished it he'd probably be in college and it wouldn't fit!

Pregnancy, Breastfeeding and Bread

Dispelling the myths.

Ha! Before you run away screaming at the title of my post, don't worry! I am not going to go into any gory details. I could, but you probably would stop reading right here. Besides, my grandma reads my blog. Hi, Grandma! Anywho....back to pregnancy, breastfeeding and bread. What do they have to do with each other? My sister. For my sister, and probably a lot of people, there is a great deal of mystery surrounding these three things. What does a pregnant belly feel like? How do you live for nine months with the fact that that thing has to come out eventually? Various boob-related questions which I won't get into. And of course, how do you make bread? This is really an incredibly abbreviated list. Every time we get together, which is just about all the time, the conversation always manages to turn back around to one of these subjects (not really the bread, the other two). And Rachel says, 'Well, Meg! Since you've already taken the mystery out of this, why not tell me about this' and asks me some question that you always want to know but are too afraid to ask. Let me take you back in time. Rachel had never been around a pregnant woman before I had James. Neither had I, for that matter. So it was all new. She was totally skeeved out by the pregnant belly, but got over it in a hurry. It wasn't what she thought, she said. She started to ask me questions here and there. She started to talk to my belly, and created a bond with James that is still strong today. She wasn't in the room when James was born, and so the mystery of the actual birthing process remained. So when Katie came along, we made sure Rachel was there. Now that whole process has been demystified. (I don't know if that was such a good idea...I want nieces and nephews!) Now there is really no pretense. Rach just fires away with hilarious questions that everyone wants to know. About pregnancy, birth, boobs, umbilical cords, etc. And bread. That leads me to the bread. Apparently my gourmet chef of a sister had a fear of bread-making. Who knew?! She can whip out some unpronounceable dish with fancy-schmancy ingredients but she was afraid to make bread. Not any more! That was the latest myth I was called on to dispel. Rach asked me if we could do a bread-making apprenticeship. In the last two days, we have made two big batches of cinnamon rolls and an enormous amount of Zweiback! Mmmmm! And as we were kneading away, Rachel asked a few more questions about the aforementioned subjects. After all, what would be a time together without giggling over some quirky pregnancy/birth related question?

Random Bits of Info

Here is another of my infamous RANDOM posts. I lost my last post somehow, and this is all I can come up with.

1. It is possible for a one-armed woman to make bread. How do I know? Because I have done it holding a baby in one arm. Rachel has been over yesterday and today for parts one and two of her 'Bread Apprenticeship.' We made cinnamon rolls and zweiback, and now the bread making process is less scary for her.

2. Katie is smiling a lot lately! Beauteous!

3. James was a Gorilla for Halloween, and Katie was supposed to be a Banana but the costume has yet to be made.

4. James has become very fond of 'helping' me in the kitchen. He helped us with our bread this morning. He especially likes to sample everything. Mmmmm....flour!

5. James and Katie got all dressed up yesterday for pictures and looked so delicious!!! And they both did great! I can't wait to get the pictures back.

6. NEWSFLASH! Christmas decorations are up already! How'd that happen? I need to get with it! And that means only 2 1/2 weeks till the tree goes up. Yippee!

7. Jeff and James found out that big batteries are made up of smaller batteries. Those smaller batteries can be strung together to light up a small flashlight!

Recycling Gone Terribly Wrong

Some people go too far. They have to much time on their hands, or something wrong with their sensibilities. I found this link on my friend's blog. Check this out:

How to make a bra into a purse!

And, depending on the size of the bra, you can have a coin purse, or something to tote your groceries home in. Sounds oh, so intriguing, doesn't it?

Scrouge

If you were to stop by our house on Halloween, you would have been sorely disappointed. We turned the lights off, closed the curtains and tried to make our home look as uninviting as possible. Amazingly, people took the hint. No one knocked. Its not that we hate Halloween, or hate kids, or whatever. Its just annoying. You go out and spend a bunch of money on candy, and you get a bunch of over-aged brats knocking on your door for a piece of candy. Don't get me wrong. I have fond memories of trick-or-treating. For you city-folk, we had to drive around from house to house if we wanted to go more than two or three places. It was fun. We got loads of candy, came home and sorted it all out. Then the real fun began. We would barter, trade, steal, beg, etc. All to get what we most wanted. "I'll trade you two Bottlecaps for one Reece's" "No, give me two Mambas and two Nerds for a Reece's" "No, that's a rip-off!" "OK, one Mamba and a box of Nerds" "OK, its a deal" You get the point. And, we had the coolest Mom around. She let us stuff our faces with as much candy as we pleased. She didn't care if we ate the whole loot in one night. It was a kid's dream come true. But back to our current lack of enthusiasm about trick-or-treaters. Here are the reasons it annoys me:

1. Dress up, please!
2. Parents, you aren't supposed to grab candy for yourself. That's just tacky.
3. Don't give me evil looks if I don't have the candy you like, or I didn't give you half the bag. Afterall, it could be worse. I could be one of those people who hands out pretzels or oranges.
4. High-schoolers, give it up! Go buy yourself a giant bag of candy at Walmart and stay home!

Now the secret is out! We are heartless Scrouges. One of these years, we'll take James out and we'll feel obligated to provide candy to the other neighborhood kids. Until then, we'll turn our lights out and go to bed early!

PS. We did take James over to Mom and Dad's and, for those of you concerned about us depriving our son of sugar....drumroll, please....he got an entire Reece's peanut butter cup all to himself! (And he liked it very much) I'll post pictures one of these days.