I Did It

I did it.

I made Amish friendship bread.

 I added raisins, dried cranberries, blueberries, and walnuts.

And, before you ask, yes, I went a little overboard on the cinamon/sugar sprinkling over the top. 

There was actually another pan of it, but it's gone alredy. I My kids ate every crumb.

I now have a new respect for the Amish women that apparently have more muscle and dedication than I do. I had to get Rick to help stir it, because I had a double batch due to my daughter on purpose accidently leaving it at my house. So I had 7 people to get rid of give away starts to, which put a damper on the whole baking fun, since I really have only 4 real life friends and the rest of you live in my computer.

The Amish, I am sure, do it much better than I do.
But luckily I didn't have to gather the eggs or milk the cow.
I didn't have to hook the horse to the buggy and go into town for the sugar and flour, or put my hair in a bun. No chopping of wood or picking the blueberries in my long calico prairie skirt.
I could never make it the Community.

 Plus, I would stick out like a sore thumb with my blond wig.

Kalee's First Day As A Teacher

I want to tell you if you have never read Martini Mom, you must! She has some of THE funniest stories of her life as a kindegarten teacher. I love this woman and she needs another follower and commenter like a hole in the head, but whatever. (bitch) Anyway, I wanted to tell you what happened to Kalee yesterday on her first day substituting and try to get 189 comments like MM does.

My daughter Kalee, graduated with her elementary education degree in May '08. She subbed yesterday for a special ed class in town. I called her yesterday to check on her and see how her day went.
me: "How did it go?"
Kalee: "It was fine."
M: "Just Fine?"
K: "Yeah. It makes me glad to know there are worse behaved kids than Grayson."
M: Heh heh "What happened?"
K: " We have a precious little girl with Down's syndrome in there that is a little toot. I told her to sit down while we passed out snacks and she said, 'Puck you' to me.
M: "What?!"
K: " Yeah, I looked over at the aide and was like, 'Did she just say what I think she said?" and she just slowly nodded her head finding no amusement in it."
M: "OMG! What did you do?"
K: " I just sat her down and gave her a puzzle with animals on it to bide me time to get the snacks passed out and to get her mind on something else."
M: "Well that was smart."
K: " No, not really. She just said, 'Puck you, duck. Puck you, dog. Puck you, cat, the whole time she put it together. It didn't work. And it was a 10 piece puzzle."

I would have subbed for free for that!!!

Tuesday Tribute to Junk Stores

It's Tuesday. Tribute Tuesday to be exact. That means I have to do a post on someone other than myself. Jay and Deb are bossy like that. See, look directly to your right. They made me put the button up there, too, so you can click and go to their blogs. So I am going to give my tribute this week to second hand stores that benefit great charities. (I never follow instructions to the letter, so I am branching out here. Plus I had this for today's post before I remembered what day it was. Sue me.)

These places such as Good Will, Salvation Army, Soul's Harbour, local women's shelters, and many others need our support financially to keep their wonderful organizations going. They have great things donated and schleps like me drag them home and re-do them.

Below are some pictures of my latest rescue.

An old antique table that I bought at a junk shop. She was $10. And she was very unloved. She needed a new home and I needed a new desk.

This is what she looked like before. She was all sad and worn.

Man, my posts and front door need re-staining!

A little sanding, a little paint and stain, and she looks good as new. Only her edges have been re- sanded and stained to make her look not-perfect. I cannot have something perfect in my house.
That chair is the next project. She doesn't go with the table all brown and shiney in her pleather dress. And before you tell me, I know the rug is too small. Remember I am lazy and I would have had to move it. And no, I didn't mop the floors either.

I think she is sexier than me in a blonde wig.

No, Amy, you can't have her.

If you haven't ventured inside one of these shops, I highly encourage it. You will be giving back to the community as they assist those needing help.
Donate items or money for the homeless, the abused women, the needy families, and people trying to get their life together. God knows if it's cool, I will buy it.

ULTAmite Makeover

While visiting Amarillo, my mom, daughter, sisters and my grand babies went to Ulta. THE store for beauty products. It's like a Tammy Faye candy store, plus hair products. My daughter got a makeover and looked gorgeous. My sisters and I got new brushes and makeup. My mom walked away with a tube of mascara. I knew she had to be sick.

While I was there I saw what had been missing my entire redheaded life.

In the back.

Beside the blow driers.

With a price tag of only $200.

There, on a white dummy sat my dream.

I could finally have more fun.

Ready?!

The headband was even included.

Sorry Justin, I am bringing sexy back.

Don't worry. I didn't buy it. They made me leave the store before I could.

It made my nose look too long anyway.

"R" You Ready For This?

Today, because I have had only three hours of sleep, I am doing this little diddy. It's a fun thing that makes you list ten of your favorite things that begin with the letter the blogger gives you.

I received my letter from Deb and I thought YIPEEEE! She bestowed upon me the letter "R".

Just as on Wheel of Fortune "R' is a staple. "R" will be easy breezey slice of cheesey. "R". Ummm. Uhhhh.
Oh, okay, okay, I know.

Rice. I love rice. Long grain, brown, Boil-in-a-bag, instant, fried, steamed. You name it. But my above all favorite is what my family calls sweet rice. For breakfast nothing is better than a warm bowl of rice with milk, sugar, and butter. I can eat the whole box. I stand over my kids secretly hoping they leave me enough.

Relations. Yes. I mean S-E-X. Mom, you can skip this part if you are feeling flushed. Call me weird, but I love it. Now. I don't mean this second, but now in my life. With my husband. With someone who loves me and tells me I am beautiful, even when I don't feel like I am. Always better with Romance. Hee! I combined two.

Roombah. No, I don't have one, but my SIL does. She swears by it, so I want one. I HATE sweeping, and sweeping, and then sweeping again, all in 42 minutes. The dead grass and dried mud drive me absolutely batty. Plus, I think it might be funny to watch my dog, Andy, with the flattened little R2D2 thing sucking all the gunk up off the floor without anyone manning it. It's so Jetson-like. I will learn to love it.

Renovations. On someone else's home, of course. I have lived in re-do's since I was first married at 19. I love to paint. It is very therapeutic for me. I love to fix things and make them all pretty. Then, six months later, I do it again.

Rock. Not the ones you step on and hop around with weirdly contortioned feet, but the music kind. Now that I am "old" I find myself listening to Pop Rock, but the urge to slam in some Hard Rock is always there. Is it just me, but when you hear certain songs from "back in the day", does it make you want to drive fast with the windows down and your hair blowing with that sense of "coolness" that suddenly washes all over you? No?! Hmmm.

Reclining. No, not recliners, but just reclining. It's more involved than just sitting. I also have my spot on the couch that I call mine. With a simple flick of my hand I can make anyone in the house move out of my spot. It is a known gesture. No arguments or whining. I have claimed it. I blog there. I watch TV there. I drink my Diet Cokes there. It is a sacred place. Hello. My name is Jill and I am lazy.

Reading. I love to read and wish I had more time to sit down with a good book and read my brains out.

Okay, eight down and 2 to go. I am hitting a wall here. "R" isn't as easy as I thought. Let's break it down. (na nana na)

R-A: Raggedy Ann? Raman noodles? Racing? No. None of these, though Raggedy Ann is cute and I DO have one from my childhood. But I look too much like her. Except for the triangle mouth. And I DID eat Raman noodles during my divorce and lost 30 pounds. And racing might work if I was any sort of athletic. Does racing to the bathroom to keep from peeing yet another pair of panties count? I didn't think so.

R-E: Renuzit? Regurgitate? Rebound? No, none of these do anything for me. Reeses? Now that I could handle. I will take 5 please. But even that isn't in my "love" category.

R-I: Ricola? The song alone makes me want to NEVER try the product. Rhino? (Shut it, the "H" is silent) Ricotta? I do love Ricotta....

R-O: Rotel? Mmmm, love it. Rolaids. Very important AFTER Rotel. Row Row Row your boat? Oh dear Lord I have lost it.

R-U: Rubiks Cube? Nope. Rudeness? Hate it. Rum? NOW we are talking!! Coconut please.

Okay my favorite R:

Rick. I know I have gushed about him and made you ill, so I will tell you what made me laugh the other day. He received a business card from a woman he was supposed to call back. Her last name was Kunz. When he called her and left her a message, and being the gentleman he was taught to be, he addressed her as "Ms". And being the goofball who cannot pronounce Smith, added a "T" to her name. Between the "n" and the "z". And did not make the "u" long. In the background of that message she will hear me "BWAAAHAA" like Mr. Ed. I am thinking he won't get THAT lady's floor job.

God, I love that man.

Okay, sue me. I only did nine. If you want to do this because you can't think of a post, let me know in your comment. I will assign you a letter. Hee! I feel so teacher-y.

BTW, I used 16 sets of quotation marks in this "R" post. Seventeen. It has to be a record. Eighteen. I just titled this thing. heh heh. I need more sleep. I am thinking I am flipping hilarious at this point.

The Reality That Bites

Okay, so sorry for the vanishing...mourning during the holidays is not recommended. I just returned from the big A, spending time with my mom and making a combined pledge with her and my sisters that 2009 will be a year of rejoicing and fun. Being sad is way too tiring.

So, my holidays were busy and filled with food, family, and messes to clean and more food. I am cheeseballed-out and if I don't see a dip featuring sour cream and something green for a year, it will be too soon. We got all things Wii and to the suggestion of all my employees, my husband got me a navigation thingy. Now I can find my way directly to every restaurant in every town I visit. The Wii Fit remains safe in her box and I will unleash her when I unpack from Amarillo. Maybe.

My mom lives in this beautiful cottage-like traditional home and has every square inch of it decorated like the pages of Southern Living, with her bathroom being the spa retreat from Heaven. Amelia and I spend like an hour in there just rummaging through all her lotions and masks and exfoliates and oils and, well, you get the picture. I only have one, okay two complaints.

Her bathtub was made for 90 pound midgets.

I cannot soak because the cramps that develop from not being able to point my toes is unbearable. Porcelain is freakin' cold in the panhandle and when you AREN'T a 90 pound midget, every inch of you touches the damn thing. Seriously, I have gravy tureens bigger than that tub.

Then there's the full-length mirror with the heat lamp illuminating all that stands in it's view.

The mirror and light that makes everything a reality. The reality that my C-section isn't noticeable. Not because my surgeon was a genius, but because my belly hangs over it and hides it. The reality that my saddle bags won't fit on most average-sized horses. The reality that I missed a couple of places when I gave myself that Brazilian shave job because hot wax scares the hell out me. The reality that my cellulite on my thighs have some dimples so deep that I could seriously serve crab dip in them. The reality that the varicose veins shimmer and shine against the chalk white skin they bulge out of. The reality that the hair on my upper thighs I convinced myself was blonde isn't. The reality that tiny small bosoms actually can droop. The reality that sideways AND naked, I look even worse. The reality that that damn Wii Fit I begged for will be opened. As soon as I click publish.

Happy 2009. Now I gotta go breathe heavy and sweat. That will happen just opening the box.

I Am Not Dead. REALLY!

Hello from the Land of the Lost!!! Thank you for the sweet emails and comments worrying that I had dropped off the face of the Earth. I am fine, just fatter and more full of it.

I just wanted to ask you a favor. Please visit my wonderful friend, Wendy here and show her some love. We have worked together and even opened up a company together. I have been trying to get her to blog for FOUR months. We have shared many laughs and I love her dearly. She knows every emabarrassing thing about me and I have paid her well to keep her mouth shut. Just kidding. She is cheap. Just kidding. Maybe.

I have told her all about you and she still wants to meet all of you. Just kidding. About the still wanting to meet you part. But I have told her about how great you all are and how encouraging you would be to her. God love her, she only has me to tell her about Blogville. SHE NEEDS YOU!!!!! So please stop by and introduce yourself. I know you want another follower anyway. See you tomorrow at 7am.

So glad to be back home! I missed you!!! Now go visit Wendall K.