My blog, that is. I've decided that I'd really like to try a different blogging program for a change of pace - and hopefully for room to grow. I haven't made the move permanently just yet, but so far I think this is where I'll end up:
I'd love it if you'd visit me and let me know what you think of the new blog! And if you're one of the few who actually do read on a regular basis, please bookmark me. That would give me warm fuzzies like no other.
Btw, the site still needs a lot of work, so bear with me!
See you over there!
Remember the wee garden Sophie and I planted back in the middle of June? And the little herbs that she potted? Well, she's turned out to be a little green thumb, bc everything is doing quite well... and all but the poor petunias have loved the seemingly never-ending downpours we've had this season:
And since I had the camera out, Friday wanted in on the action:
(Isn't that just the funniest wink?)
Besides gardening, I decided to start filling the birdfeeders again. However, it took so long to get the birds to come back, I decided to visit my local wild bird shop and ask them what the possible problem was. "Oh, you're off the list," the Wild Bird Expert said. "WHAT?? How can that BE??" I ask. "WHAT list??? I wanna be on the LIST!" She calmly explained to me that birds have a circuit they travel, visiting all the feeders that have been faithfully kept full (ahem... not mine, apparently), and basically I have to "rebuild my clientele." "Well," I huffed, "Why I never... " So I grabbed my bag of nyger seed (after the Wild Bird Expert gently suggested I buy the smallest bag available, since my feeders aren't exactly the bee's knees in Bird World) and headed home to build my bird business. A week or so later, and voila:
Aren't they just the cutest things? I absolutely love watching them. They're so quiet and content, and last week when I was sitting on the back porch reading, I glanced over my shoulder and one was perched on the feeder having breakfast. It surprised me, bc my chair was so close by, and I find that these little sweeties are very easily spooked.
Speaking of things I love, does your local grocery store grill hot dogs out in front of the store every summer? Mine does, and man-oh-man are they DELICIOUS. Sophie and I will do our shopping and then purchase one of these enormous dogs to share - in the car.
Mmmmmmm. LOVE 'em!!
However, there is something I love more than grocery-store grilled hot dogs in the car. I'm absolutely head-over-heels in love with the Twilight saga by Stephenie Meyer. Particularly the male lead, vampire Edward Cullen. And oh my heavens, slap my fanny, the next installment comes out in FIFTEEN DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Did you hear that, Siobhan??? August 2nd, and it's MINE MINE MINE!!!!!!)
To show my love for Edward, I shall don my "Official 'I Love Edward Cullen' Fan Club" shirt. Sabrina's favorite character (who happens to be Edward's mortal enemy) is the werewolf, Jacob Black. So Sabrina will be wearing her "Official 'I Love Jacob Black' Fan Club" shirt, which just so happens to have "Hot Dog" on the front of it. Mine says "Bite Me." That's funny... hot dog... bite me... isn't it weird how that happened? It's like I planned it that way or something, after the whole grocery-store-grilled-hot-dog thing.
And there you have it. Some things I've loved this summer. I'm also loving that I finished my "Toil and Trouble" model today, but that's for another post, another day. In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying the season - and if you're not gardening or stitching or birdwatching, then you really should be reading the Twilight saga!! Go to your nearest book store now!!
Yesterday the police department had their Annual Police Picnic at a local water/fun park. The day was very hot, and although storm clouds were constantly threatening to unleash their fury on all of us, they held off and the 2008 gathering was a fun time for everyone. Including myself, who isn't overly fond of heat and poolside parties.
This year, we had to make do without my sun-loving Sabrina, who was out of town visiting her best friend. But we did bring along Breanna's boyfriend, Cody, who always keeps us laughing. That boy loves to ham it up in front of the camera, and I love how Breanna joins in as well. These two definitely keep us on our toes! (Don't worry... Big Papa is in the background, pretending to carry on a conversation with someone... but really, he's watching to make sure there is no hanky-panky going on. And he's got about 700 men also "carrying on conversations" to help him out.)
And here is little Sophie and Big Papa, who had lots of fun with the bumper cars:
And the go-carts:
And the Mounted Patrol:
And finally, the swimming and swimming and swimming:
There was lots of food, as usual, and after 18 years of attending these annual picnics, I can tell that we've all enjoyed our fair share of unlimited hot dogs and fried chicken. And rolls and beans and potato salad and soda. Maybe we should have an Annual Workout instead. Oh wait a minute... I already have one of those.
Until next year, then!
Happy Belated Birthday, America! I hope you celebrated our country's 232nd birthday with lots of friends, food, and fireworks!
Ever since the girls have come along, one of our favorite holidays has been Independence Day. The morning would start with a jaunt to a fireworks stand, where the girls would gleefully shop with their dad for lots of different firecrackers. When they retured home, the fun would immediately begin with smoke bombs and poppers thrown at each others' feet (sweet children that they are), and then in the afternoon, lots of neighbors would join us for our annual backyard barbeque bash, toting tons of food, drinks, lawnchairs, and even the occasional blowtorch (don't ask). The girls would invite several friends over for their very favorite part: lighting off all of their fireworks with the help of their dad, who was just as excited as they were to break some city-limits rules and set things on fire.
Over the years, people started to move away, the older girls got invited to other festivities, and the neighborhood barbeque got smaller and smaller... until there were two lone party-lovers left:
They had enough fun for everyone, though.
God Bless America!
Remember this photo?
The UPS man brought me a beautiful brown box filled with these delectables from the great UK. Fruit Pastilles... the candy of heavenly hosts. Well, this is me now, with that box:
See that look? (Pay no attention to the disheveled hair and lack of makeup.) This is not the look of a lunatic who ate the last of her precious Fruit Pastilles. Nor is it the look of a kindly mother who willingly and lovingly shared the priceless rolls with each member of her family and now has none for herself. No, THIS, dear reader, is the look of someone who realizes that their favorite food product on Planet Earth has been kidnapped.
This afternoon my husband looked quite pitifully hungry, even though he'd eaten more than enough food at dinnertime to feed a small country. So I offered him one of my prized possessions: a roll of Fruit Pastilles (I bet you saw that coming). He said, "You know what? A package of those might do me just right!" So I reached up into the top of my special cabinet used for hiding things, and my hand felt around for the candies. I withdrew my empty hand, feeling a wee bit puzzled, and reached upwards again into the box. Felt around... nothing. Felt around again... nothing. Yanked the box out of the cabinet and beheld every FP junkie's worst nightmare: a ransom note. Here's what it said:
ONE GAZILLION DOLLARS RANSOM IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR BELOVED FRUIT PASTILLES AGAIN. DON'T CALL THE POLICE OR THEY WILL BE EATEN LIKE THE YUMMY FRUIT CANDIES THEY ARE. IF YOU CAN'T GET THE MONEY, I MAY CONSIDER <insert lewd comment here>.
I stormed into the room in which my soon-to-be-ex sat, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Mind you, this is the man who has dedicated himself to "ridding the city of scurge and scum," as he likes to put it. He's very familiar with how criminal minds work, and the knowledge puts him on a daily, unswerving course toward justice. And yet, after all these years, he has become one of them. Here he is with my middle daughter just yesterday:
See the lavender shirt? I call it his Confession Shirt, bc people wrongfully assume that he's a softie in the interview room. I mean, what self-respecting homicide detective would wear lavender? See how he's the doting father? The girls adore him. See the badge?? I bet it's really made out of plastic.
This SWEET, LOVING, LAVENDER-WEARING man is really nothing more than a blog-hacking candy thief. So in an effort to save me from having to <insert lewd comment here>, I'm asking for any donations to be sent to me until I reach the gazillion-dollar mark. Please. Help a sister out.