Friday, December 30, 2005

WONDER GIRLS, (the miracle children)

These are my two precious daughters Rocky and Becca.  I call them the Miracle Wonder Girls because quite honestly its a miracle I haven't shipped them off to Mars or some other distant planet, and its a wonder that Homeland Security hasn't offered to help finance the endevour.  These two girls fight like, well, they fight like sisters.  But sisters of the worst kind.  They make me understand why some parents in the wild kingdom would kill their own young.  Oh, I wouldn't want to kill them, I would just wish them upon my worst enemy.  God help the young men who get suckered into marrying them... SOON, please?  And may they be blessed with many daughters.

I am still perplexed by the toilet paper delimma in my house.  Seems I'm always the lucky person who sits on the pot right after the person who used the last square of paper.... ALWAYS!  So, I bought those Super Ultra rolls, the kind with twice as many squares of tissue.  Wonderful, I thought, now maybe I'll be able to wipe without having to peel the bits and pieced off of the old discared rolls.  Right?  WRONG!  While there may be twice as many squares on the Ultra roll, the sheets are twice as thin so you end up using twice as many squares to avoid unnecessary dampness to your fingers.  And once again I found myself drip-drying.  Yeah, great invention guys, thanks for nothing.

Another great invention... I was in the new Outdoor Sportsman store last night and was drawn to a feature rack that was promoting a pair of women's briefs that it boasted '17 countries, 6 weeks, one pair of panties'.  Excuse me, but even for me that is just plain 'ewwwww!'.

Thursday, December 29, 2005


No, really, don't NEVER EVER try this at home kids.  This is what is left of my camera lens after Dickidoo tried to fix it.  There was a happy ending to this story though, Dickidoo ended up buying me a new lens as a belated Christmas present.  Yay Dickidoo!  Thank you!  By the way, could you fix my sewing machine too? Its over 10 years old and could use a tune-up.  (wink wink!)

Tuesday, December 27, 2005


2006 is right around the corner and as usual I am faced with the problem of coming up with a resolution that is both realistic and attainable.  In my 45 years I quite honestly can't recall a single successful resolving of a resolution, except for maybe my determination to be potty trained by the age of 30 months.  I don't even know for sure if I was in fact potty trained by then, for my mother's sake I hope that I was.  I do know that I am potty trained NOW, so however late it may have been, that was at least one resolution that was eventually attained.

So anyhow, there I was this afternoon, sitting and contemplating on my Throne of Contemplation, when it hit me.  And when the air cleared and I could breath again, I knew the answer to my New Years conundrum.  I did not need to make a resolution.  Resolutions in my case are just predicted failures.  What I needed was a new point of view.

2006 will be the year of Me.  I will not fret about how I can better myself.  I will, instead, concentrate how I can make the world better for ME.  For so long I have catered to others, accomodating them, striving to please them.  I'm 45 years old.  Nobody has made a resolution to please me.  I am not happy.  I have come to the conclusion that if I am to leave this world a happy soul, it is up to me to find that happiness for myself. 

So that is my goal for the coming year... to find happiness.  Not fleeting, momentary happiness, but the kind that stays through the night and welcomes you at the break of dawn.  Like my potty training, this is one goal I intend to achieve, no matter how long it takes. 

Monday, December 26, 2005


Well, Christmas came and went and I never did find my Christmas spirit.  The Oompas did though, look at those faces!  They even helped me wrap presents.  Unfortunately they left the price tags on Dickidoo's gifts.  Oh well, what do you expect when you ask an Oompa Loompa to do an Elf's job! 

True to his word, Dickidoo didn't buy me anything for Christmas.  Nothing!  Not even a recycled candycane.  He did, however, buy an extravegant gift for himself from me (which I get to pay him back for... Merry Christmas dear).  To be fair to him, he did warn me that the camera was to be my last gift for the next decade but silly me thought he was kidding. 

Gabe called Christmas morning, that was the highlight of my day.  He spoiled everyone with his gifts.  We would have traded them all in though just to have him with us.  He sounded good, and heck, I do believe he had a nicer Christmas dinner than we did!  Thats good, I'm glad.  Those soldiers deserve it.  I was also happy to hear that our Christmas package for him arrived in time.

Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas.  And if not, there's always next year!  Until then, I will attempt to find my holiday spirit in a Corona Holiday Party in a Box, with 12 party enhancing units!  Ho Ho Ho!  (hiccup!)

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

SOME THINGS ARE WORTH WAITING FOR (reposted from 12/19/04)

*  I am waiting for uni-brows to come back into fashion because I hate plucking my eyebrows... it hurts!

*  I am waiting for Prince Charming to ride up and sweep my daughter off her feet, marry her and live happily ever after... so I can have all my clothes back.

*  I'm waiting for my grandchildren to be born... so I can teach them to be just a rotten as their parents were!

*  I am waiting for the dandilions to take over the yard so I can have a green yard again. 

*  I am waiting for my Coca Cola bottle collection to become worth millions.  My kids are waiting for me to leave my Coca Cola bottle collection unguarded so they can drink it.  I don't think they realize that there is an expiration date on the bottles for a reason.

*  I am waiting for the day my kids will ask me to help them with their homework... and I actually CAN!

*  I am waiting to be the 1 in 10 million odds of winning the lottery jackpot.

*  I am waiting for the Jetsons to come true... I want my own robot to cook and clean for me.

*  I'm waiting for my body to stop growing and start shrinking instead.  Okay, shrivel is more the word, but hey, if it will help me fit into my clothes better I don't care!


Sunday afternoon I came home for my lunch break and was greeted by my two little girls on the porch in tears.  Our ferret Bandie was finally leaving us.  We had adopted her from our friends when their son died in 2000.  The kids loved her more as a member of the family than as a pet.  Naturally they were inconsolable.  Or so I thought.

My husband sat with Bandie wrapped in a scrap of blanket that Bandie loved, and she lay there taking long, shallow breaths.  When he indicated that he thought she was about to slip away, I called the kids down.  At first they stood around sniffling, tears streaming down their cheeks, but I encouraged them to talk about happy times with our little friend and soon we were laughing about her silly antics, how she loved to stash stolen candy under the boys dressers, and how she would hide our shoes under the couch.  How she'd burrow in the cushions and bite Steve's butt when he'd sit down, how she liked to climb up pantlegs and bite ankles, how she hated baths and loved to go for rides in the truck.  How she hated the snow and loved coffee.

Bandie passed away in Becca's arms, and the children believe that she is now back in the arms of the young man who brought her into our lives.  Our mission is over and Steve plans to have her cremated so he can scatter her ashes near those of her first friend, bringing them together again.

Rocky woke up yesterday morning, bubbly as usual, and followed me about the house giving me an account of her dream.  In it she said Becca was being mean to her and even said that Bandie was dead.  Encouraged by the ease in which she was talking about our pet's death, I questioned her about how she felt and she looked so confused until a strange look came over her face.

'I thought it was a dream,' she whispered sadly. 

I hate to see my children so heartbroken over the death of a pet, but I see it as a lesson in the journey of life.  Death is all part of life, and while the loss of a pet might not compare with the loss of a human, I think it helps them to deal with death lateron in theirlife.

That is not to say that a 45 year old woman does not grieve over the death of a ferret.  I have in fact shed a few tears for my furry little friend.  Good bye Sweet Bandie.  I shall miss you.

Saturday, December 17, 2005


The heater and defroster in Big Red is out of commission, which presented me with the ideal conditions to conduct the 'Steaming Butt' experiment.  After consuming an almost unhealthy amount of burritos and taquitos over the course of the day, my system was at its optimum level by the time I was driving home from work.  Testing the air with my breath produced a puff of steam.  A rumble tickled my stomach.  All systems were 'go', zero seconds to countdown and blast off.

Conclusion:  Farts DO NOT emit visable steam or vapor clouds in temperatures below freezing.  And while the cold air seems to affect the smell from rising as quickly, farts still stink!

Wednesday, December 14, 2005



We got our tree on Saturday.  We drove up into the mountains, hiked through the snow for 2 hours, found lots of trees but none that we all could agree on, and finally ended up picking a tree just about 100 yards from where we parked.  Of course we could have found it and saved ourselves a lot of time if we had set off in the opposite direction that we started out in, but then we would have missed out on the sledding, and the sliding, the snow-showers, the 'Marco Polo', the snowball fights and all the other fun that goes along with hiking through the snowy forest in search of the perfect Christmas tree.

We had collard greens for supper last night.  Oh no, I didn't make them.  I don't know how to fix collards, but Dickidoo's friend does and he sent over a huge batch for us being as its no secret how much we love them.  I ate my fill last night.  So did the others... except for Becca.  Why?  Because her precious baby sister told her that the ham hocks were pig noses.  Needless to say Becca immediately lost her appetite, and Rocky was able to have seconds.

Got a call from my grandbaby's mother.   Little Zachary celebrated his first birthday with a cold, poor little thing.  I'm still holding out hopes that I'll get to see him soon. 

I also spoke with one of my sister's today.  She is now the proud mother of two baby yaks.  Well, only one is a baby.  The other is 3 years old but she lovingly refers to them as 'the girls'.  She is also goat-sitting 10 goats, and one cow, plus a dog or two.  She worries about the spring thaw when the snow melts and reveals the hidden treasures left behind by all the critters roaming her yard.  Better her than me.  And she has recently discovered the pleasures of 'snotscicles'.  Obviously she doesn'tread my journal often enough, otherwise she would have known about freezing boogerbergs.  

Friday, December 9, 2005



Rocky lost a tooth last night and made a point to inform both Dickidoo and I of the fact, proudly displaying the pearly white in a gallon sized freezer bag.  She also indicated that the past two times she had lost a tooth, the Tooth Fairy had neglected to visit and reward her for the cavity-free offerings.  With my paycheck considerably smaller now that I am only part-time employed I made sure that both Rocky AND Dickidoo were aware that I was no longer in charge of arranging the Tooth Fairy's visits.  Dickidoo rolled his eyes at me but instructed Rocky to place the huge plastic bag containing her tiny baby molar under her pillow... where it remained until she removed it this morning.

At 6:45 this morning she shook the bag in my face and informed me that the Tooth Fairy was fired effective immediately and she would find and hire a new, more reliable Tooth Fairy for any future missions.

Rachel is 11.  She does not believe in the Tooth Fairy.  However she DOES expect to find a coin or two underneath her pillow the morning following a timely  dental loss.  Needless to say she was not very happy when she left for school this morning.  I on the other hand have the pleasure of giving the Tooth Fairy 'his' pink slip.  Poor Dickidoo!  Hahahaha!

Fairy courtesy of Pamela's Fairy Images

Thursday, December 8, 2005

GLOVES, shoes and Scrooge

We have a duffle bag full of gloves.  We have always had a problem keeping the pairs together so last year I decided to invest in a bunch of the same style and size of gloves.  The theory was that even mismatched gloves could be worn together.  Now all of the gloves in the bag match exactly.  By 'exactly' I mean that the bag is full of identical left-handed gloves.  I'm sure somewhere in the house is another bag full of right-handed gloves, but in the meantime I'm running around town with two left-handed gloves.   Well, it seemed like a good idea at first.

I'm still trying to get in the mood of Christmas.  We missed Saint Nicholai's Day, a German tradition we adopted when we lived in Ansbach, Germany.  That is when children set out their shoes in the hope that St. Nicholai would come by and fill them with candy and treats.  Last year my kids lined the upstairs hallway with dozens of shoes in a greedy attempt to score more candy.  St. Nicholai only filled one shoe each, and to be perfectly honest after smelling the feet that come out of those shoes I wouldn't eat anything that had been placed in them, even if it was wrapped.  This year we completelely forgot about it... until yesterday.  I learned real quick how important traditions are for kids, even older ones.  I shall be contacting St. Nicholai to hopefully arrange a special visit in order to restore peace in Oompa Loompa Land. 

We're supposed to go to the mountains this weekend in search of the perfect Christmas tree.  Hopefully that will get me into the mood.  I've just got the blahs.  Maybe its because this will be the first Christmas that our family will not spend together.  Maybe its because of where Gabe is and what he is going through.  And maybe its because Dickidoo has already told me that I won't be getting any Christmas presents (or Birthday presents, or Mothers Day, or Anniversary....) for the next few years because of what he spent on my camera equipement.  What a scrooge!  I need a new lens!  Bah Humbug! 

Wednesday, December 7, 2005


Okay, I can't vouch for ALL beer or just any old chocolate but this much I will say.  Corona Extra and Moonpies go great together.  Granted, it was my second beer, and everything tastes better after the second beer, but really... this was even better than Moonpie and RC Cola, I kid you not!

Its 1 degree outside.  The kids had a 2 hour delay for school.  They wanted to stay home.  In fact they BEGGED to stay home, but today is my day off, and lets face it, the thought of being snowed in with the Oompa Loompas is not my idea of a well spent day off.   Nope, I drove their little hineys to school!  Tomorrow the forecast calls for subzero temperatures, -11 without the windchill factor.  I may have no choice on being blessed by their company, but today is mine and mine alone... at least until 3pm.


In grateful and respectful memory for all those who died during the attack on Pearl Harbor on the 7th of December, 1941.  Their ultimate sacrifice was great and they are not forgotten.

Monday, December 5, 2005



Can you believe I got my grandson's birthday wrong?  Good golly, its my first grandson's first birthday and I missed it!  He won't get his presents until midweek.  I've been waiting for this for most of my life... my grandchild's birthday, and I blow it.  Agh!  I'm sorry Zachary, Granny will make it up to you some day soon (I hope!).

Friday, December 2, 2005

MY DATE, and my Christmas wish

I had a date with a tall, dashing young man yesterday.  Zack, my 18 year old treated me to a movie.  We saw Harry Potter's Goblet of Fire.  It was a very good movie, and yes, I cried... but then I cried in Lilo and Stitch so don't be thinking its a real tear jerker.  I'm just a big cry baby.  If you haven't seen it yet and enjoyed the earlier Harry Potter movies then I recommend this sequel.  Of course, now that I've seen it I'll have to take the other Oompas.  And this time I'll take some tissue.

I am finally getting into the holiday spirit.  Thanksgiving was difficult following the tragedy in Gabe's unit.  Then, a few days later we received a packet from the unit with information and procedures for NOK (next of kin), something that is routinely sent to the persons the soldiers list as contacts should anything happen, but not something one wants to think about during the holidays and certainly not something you'd want to read so shortly after the death of another soldier.  I still have not been able to read the contents, I think I'll let Dickidoo handle that.

So anyhow, I started my shopping yesterday.  Rocky took it upon herself to inform me that all she wants for Christmas is a drumset.  Nothing else.  I took it upon myself to tell her that all I wanted for Christmas was for her NOT to get a drumset, and guess what... I think I'm a little higher up on Santa's 'good' list than she is!

Thursday, December 1, 2005

40,000+ HITS!

Woo hoo!  I just hit 40,000 this morning and I didn't even notice!  And guess what else?  My blog's value just went up by $600 and is now worth  $51,937.68!  So put that in your 'cookie' jar and smoke it Aye Uh-oh El.

I would like to thank all of my readers who have helped me reach this pinacle, thanks to Snny who clicked [F5]  75 times in a row when I was nearing the 20,000 mark, and thanks AOL for thinking that my fartsy journal was worthy of your graffiti.  Lets celebrate.  I need chocolate, and coffee... and BEER!


Becca burped yesterday... mid-sentence.  She just kept on talking while she belched.  It was scary.  She sounded like Linda Blair in the Exorcist when the demon was speaking through her.  Naturally the other kids were impressed, but they informed me that it wasn't near as cool as Art and Zack's friend Paul who can fart his name.  Seriously!  They swear that when this kid farts, his butt says 'Paul'.  Now I've heard everything!  Not literally of course, because I haven't actually heard a talking butt, nor do I need to hear one.   I'll just take their word for it.  You have to admit though, that would be a really cool party trick.