Sunday, April 30, 2006


Dickidoo has a death wish, I swear he does.  He keeps pushing me and pushing me just to see how far he can push me.  He does this because he knows I'll never kill him as long as there are Oompas still living with us.  He knows I will never willingly be a single parent to the Oompas.

So he nags.

This morning he was supposed to get up before dawn and take the kids hunting.  They slept in.  But that didn't keep him from waking me up before I even had to get up for work.  He just kept nudging me and shaking me until there was just no getting back to sleep.

And then he went right back to sleep.  That dog!

So I occupied my spare time at work today scheming my revenge.  I had the perfect plan worked out by the time I returned home this evening.  But that guy is slick, he probably knew I would be planning some kind of retaliation and he was prepared.

With a bag full of Reese's Peanut Butter Fudge Bars.

Revenge will be mine... later, after I've finished my stash of Fudge Bars.

Countdown Provided by deslily

Saturday, April 29, 2006


I just looked at my little computer pop-up date and time thingie.  Today is the 29th.  There are 30 days in April.  If Gabe leaves on the 15th of May, then the countdown should actually be '15 days and a wake-up'... with the 'wake-up'  being the actual day of departure... I think I've lost a day somewhere along the way.  But thats okay, I'm sticking with MY countdown since its closer.

14 Days And A Wakeup!

Woo Hoo!

Friday, April 28, 2006


Occasionally and from time to time I come across a product that has such an impact on me that I feel compelled to blog about it.  Today is such a time.  Actually, I had intended to make a similar post earlier on but my product sample was stolen (TO CATCH A THIEF! ).  I do, however feel strongly about getting the word out about this particular product because of the simple fact that printed on the label on the front of the package, in bold white letters is the warning:


What that boils down to folks is that Hershey's does not plan on carrying its luscious Fudge Bar full of peanut-buttery goodness forever and I find that down right depressing.  I'm not a huge fan of any one specific brand of candy, I like chocolate.... period.  Nestle, Hershey, Girardelli, Willy Wonka, Brachs, Lindt (okay, I REALLY like Lindt), you name it and stuff a little cocoa in it and I'll love it!

But this newest edition to the Reese's family has really impressed me.  Not too sweet, not too bland, simple, only one way to eat it... goes good with milk, coffee, Coke or Corona.  Its just plain and simply 'good'.

I would love to see it become a permanent item on the Reese's menu, but folks, I can't do this on my own.  Go out, buy one of the 33¢ Limited Edition Reese's Fudge Bar and if you like it, write or call Herseys and tell them so.  Even if you don't like it, tell them that I like it, and don't want it to be retired.

Thank you, from the bottom of my peanut-butter-fudge-loving heart.

HERSHEY'S Gifts - Contact Us

ANTICIPATION, and calling all Angels...

Gabe's ex girlfriend and mother of my grandson, called last night.  Steve was able to direct her to this site as well as to Letters to Gabe.  Yay!  I got to talk to her later.  I'm so excited about them coming out here that I can barely stand it.

But then I got to thinking... I hope she doesn't get scared off by what I write here on my blog.  So Kayle, if you're reading this.... I really don't fart all the time, and I promise we will have tons of toilet paper in stock.  I'm really very cool... after my second cup of coffee.... 

To all the wonderful people who have been supporting me during these past months, and praying for Gabe's safety, I'd like to ask you to keep Kayle and Little Zack in your prayers as well for its a long drive from their house to mine.  Hopefully they will be leaving their hometown right about the same time Gabe will be leaving his base.  We'll need as many Guardian Angels on duty then as possible.

Thanks guys!

Thursday, April 27, 2006


Dear Kayle,

How does one truly appreciate the person who made a conscious decision that had brought such joy to our lives and such hope and promise for the future?  I don't know, other than to say 'thank you from our very heart and soul'.

Love you for all you have done for Gabe, for Little Zack, and for us.  Can't wait till you get here. 

Jody and Steve

ABOUT YESTERDAY (because I'm too allergic to do anything today)

Dickidoo and Boobidoo~ don't we just make the cutest couple?  (lookie there, I think Dickidoo wants my beer!)

Have you ever wondered why the characters in South Park don't have noses?  Because they have evolved to cope with Colorado's allergy season, thats why!  Unfortunately I do not live in South Park, Colorado.  I still have a nose.  Allergies suck!

Gabe called yesterday.  He sounded soooooo close and soooooo good!  Just over 2 weeks left before he can skip town and come on home for a spell. 

Zachary .... Big Zack as we call him now, spoiled me yesterday.  He took me out to lunch, and bought me a  Tatty Patch Bear (my favorite teddy bears).  We had such a nice long talk that lasted all day.  That boy is going to make some girl very happy one day.  But she better know how to play video games, enjoy world history, and not be afraid to eat wild meat because otherwise he won't even notice her!  Aye ya yay!


DIRTY DISH FAIRY (recycled entry)

Picture from Hometown

Got up this morning and hurried to the kitchen with anticipation, but my excitement immediately turned to disappointment.  The Dirty Dish Fairy had once again skipped my house.  Last night's dinner dishes decorated the counter and sink, pots and pans still on the stove top.  I sank into the nearest chair and stared in disbelief.  How could this be, why am I always forgotten?  My friends and neighbors wake up to clean counters and sparkling dishes, but not I!  Did I do something wrong to make the Dirty Dish Fairy hate me so?  I've noticed that on occasion my offerings of left-overs have been devoured, but the dirty dishes remain.  Sadly I must accept the fact that the Dirty Dish Fairy no longer loves me.  That's okay, I still have the Dirty Laundry Fairy!


Day 3 and still no Dirty Dish Fairy.  Have had to break out the paper plates.  The situation is getting desperate.
Comment from
dornbrau - 5/16/04 11:39 PM


Day 803:  Kitchen counter has become a vast wasteland of dishes stained and tarnished with the unidentifiable remnants of meals from days long past. Have been approached several times by Dixie corporation for monopolizing the supply of their products.  Dirty Laundry Fairy eloped with Dirty Dish Fairy in spring of 2005 after my failed attempt to negotiate a new contract to include dish duties.  Now my house is filled with dirty dishes AND dirty laundry.  All is lost.
Unless I can get in touch with Mr. Clean, or that Janitor in a Drum dude!
Comment from
dornbrau - 4/27/06 10:23 AM



Tuesday, April 25, 2006


Baby its cold outside!

In fact, its down right nipply!  Dickidoo called from work this morning and said it was snowing out there.

Does pollen float when its cold?  I hope not.  I could really use a rest from my hay fever.  My eyes are soooo tired of being itchy.   I take allergy medicine like a junkie but it gives me cotton mouth so I drink lots of water.  The water fills up my bladder which always seems to coincide with a sneezing fit.  I'm thinking that the sneezing is not actually a symptom of my allergies but a phenomenon that occurs when one's bladder reaches its maximum capacity.  (Ha ha Lord, good one!)  If my allergies don't get better soon I'm going to have to start investing in them Depends emergency, high absorbant under-drawers!


Monday, April 24, 2006


According to a video by akezure , one can trim one's waistline by doing a simple exercise just 10 minutes a day.  No expensive gym equipment required, no specialty work-out clothes needed, you don't even need to leave your home... you can do it while you're washing the dishes or talking on the phone.  All that is required is a simple device that can be found in just about any home that has children.

What is this miracle device?  Its a small Super Ball, like the kind you can get in a 25¢ vending machine.  Although the dialog is spoken entirely in Japanese, it is pretty self explanatory.  The routine is low impact but the results speak for themselves, no translator needed. 


Whoa!  Hold on a minute!  You want me to stick that Super Ball WHERE?

Yep.... You shove that little Super Ball right between your butt cheeks!  (Don't worry, you're supposed to have clothes on.)

I tried it.  I really didn't have to clench my cheeks to hold on to the ball because lets face it, I probably have a little more butt cleavage than the person in the video does.  I'm sure the idea is to clench the muscles, so that's what I did.  I recommend that you do this exercise in the privacy of your own home.  Folks come to the Super Center to do their daily speed walking, weight-walking, etc. because of its safe environment, which is fine, but I don't need to go to work and have stinky errant Super Balls dropping and bouncing all over the store!  Note:  when visiting my home, if you happen to come across a small rubber Super Ball on the floor, you might not want to touch it.  You never know where its been!

Check out the other videos as well, there's trimming love handles with a dish towel, peeling a boiled potato, making a baby stop crying, etc.  The topics and methods are amazing.  Of course, they're all in Japanese but one can pretty much get the gist of it:  Akekure How To Videos

Sunday, April 23, 2006


I was robbed last night.  Sometime during the night, while the family was tucked in our beds, our house was violated.

My first instinct was to panic, but I quickly calmed down.  Maybe the kids took them, so I asked them but they merely shook their heads.  Perhaps it was Dickidoo, but he also denied knowing the where abouts of the two precious items.

Okay... now... PANIC!  But a quick inventory revealed that there were only two items missing.  Obviously the robbery had been interrupted because the only things of value that the robbers got were my two Limited Edition Reeses Peanut Butter Fudge Bars.

I plan to catch the thief and make him/her pay restitution AND maybe even do some time in the slammer. 

Let there be no mistake, NOBODY lays a hand on my Limited Edition Reeses Peanut Butter Fudge Bars and gets away with it!  Justice will be served!

Countdown graphic by: deslily

Saturday, April 22, 2006


"My son, and you guys, my friends and beer are what I miss most."

"Right now I'm in the internet place smoking, listening to music, drinking coffee, wishing it was a beer."

(Yep, thats my boy!)

Friday, April 21, 2006


If I am a flower then you are a petal,
I am merely a stem  without you.

If I am a tree then you are a leaf, 
am bare and vulnerable without you.

If I am a bird then you are a feather,
I cannot soar without you.

If I am a star then you are a twinkle,
I cannot shine without you.

If I am a river then you are a raindrop,
I could not grow without you.

I am, and you are there for me,
I could not be without you.

j.navakuku 04/21/06

Edited by Sandi (who is quite a talented poet, check it out: Life Is Full Of Surprises )


I really love spring, with its bright colorful flowers, lush green lawns, budding trees, chirping birds, fluttering butterflies and buzzing bees...

And stinkin' sinus sabotaging pollen!

And another thing.... now that the ground has thawed and new growth is springing up all over, my yard no longer blends in with the rest of the yards in the neighborhood.  My yard used to be just another bare brown yard in a cul de saq full of bare brown yards but now my yard is now the ONLY bare brown yard! 

Yeah, I really hate spring!

Bart Simpson Chalk Board Generator

Thursday, April 20, 2006


The unthinkable happened yesterday.  You'd probably have thought that the 'unthinkable' would happen fairly often in my house and it may now surprise you to hear that this was actually the first time this has happened to my knowledge.

We ran out of toilet paper.

Not just in the main bathroom to which the problem could easily be solved by a raid on my bathroom.  Not just in the boys' downstairs bathroom... which is always a mystery to me because a quick glance at the unflushed toilet almost always reveals the absence of toilet paper. 

There was NO toilet paper in the entire house!  No discarded cardboard tubes with a few squares still attached, those had already been picked bare.  No flattened and tattered rolls leftover from the hunting season.  No little emergency travel packs.

Nothing!  Nada!  Zip!

Its not that we couldn't afford the $1.18 for a 4 roll bargain brand pack of butt-wipes.  And its not that we had a hard time finding a place to get them, I work in a store that has a whole 50 foot aisle dedicated to the display of about 30 different brands, sizes and varieties of the product.  I walk past the aisle at least 8 times in the course of the day.  It just never seems to come to mind as I rush out of the store at the end of the day. 

Tuesday night's inventory of supplies indicated that there was only a half roll left.  Emergency TP rationing was initiated.  The roll was left in the main bathroom and the Oompas were firmly instructed "Maximum allowance of 4 squares per squat, and when we're out, we're out!"

We ran out yesterday during the morning rush hour.  Bathroom privileges were immediately suspended.  The Oompas were advised to use the bathroom before they left the school at the end of the day.  It was recommended that Zack, who had the day off, not eat or drink until I returned home after work with fresh supplies.

I actually remembered to grab a pack of toilet paper before I left the store at 5:30, and was greeted by the Oompas, bouncing around like little puppies waiting to be let out the back door in the morning.  There was a chorus of sighs coming from all three bathrooms immediately after.

Toilet paper.  Such a simple invention.  Such a major necessity.  I'll bet we could end the war in Iraq just by confiscating all of the toilet paper in the country.  We'd bring those insurgents to their knees, begging for mercy and toilet paper!

Cool Text: Logo and Graphics Generator

Wednesday, April 19, 2006


(An old entry with my thoughts and memories of Childbirth, and Planned Grandparenthood  )


Tuesday, May 25, 2004
9:25:00 PM MDT


I went through childbirth 5 times.  You would think that by the fifth time it would have gotten easier, but that was not the case.  All it did was prepare me for what was to come.  During my first delivery I had no idea what to expect and could only take it as it came.  When the contractions began for the fifth pregnancy I suddenly remembered... 'Oh yeah, this hurts!'  Unfortunately by that time is was too late for a condom.

One thing that did get better were the babies themselves.  I had never seen a newborn human before and when they held up my first born I remember being horrified by the hairy, purple and red screaming creature covered with blood and white goo.  I demanded to know what was wrong with it but all the doctors and nurses just smiled and said it was a beautiful healthy boy.  It was like a scene from Rosemary's Baby!  It wasn't until he was cleaned up and clothed that I began to see his human traits.

When they announced that my fifth child was a girl I was once again horrified and asked if they were sure.  I already had a 3 year old daughter at home and had learned enough to know that I did not want another one in the house.  Apparently everyone else felt the same because none of the other mothers in the maternity ward would trade with me.

After 5 children I called it quits and had my husband neutered. Childbirth was a painful yet fulfilling experience.  When I looked down at a peacefully sleeping baby there was never any question that it was all worth it.  Now that those babies have grown up I am beginning to have a change of heart.  That's okay though, revenge will be mine in the form of my grandchildren!

Cool Text: Logo and Graphics Generator

Tuesday, April 18, 2006


I didn't wait until the last minute to do my taxes this year.  In fact I had just over 120 minutes to spare when I finally submitted my e-file forms.  We actually qualified for a refund from the federal withholdings which was fortunate since we have to pay the state yet again! 

I didn't want to prepare our taxes, I tried and failed miserably two years ago and we ended up having to pay H&R Block to redo two years of returns.  I can still recall the accountant's goofy grin and info-mercial enthusiasm  as he told us that he had just saved us $300 in deductions, and then informed us that his fee was $400, all in the same breath.  Then he asked what we were going to do with the money we saved on. 

Say what?

Did I miss something?  There is no money to spend.  He may have shaved $300 off of what we already owed but then he went and added it all back in the form of a $400 prep fee.  If we had just done it ourselves, even without the hidden deductions,  we still would have been $100 richer! 

Well Goober, being as we are now $100 deeper in debt than we were when we walked into your office, I guess we'll use that 'money we saved' to pay your outrageous fee!  The real question is what are YOU going to do with the money you saved us?  May I suggest you start with buying a new tie and chucking that one away!  I've just had to stare at it for the past 4 hours... Its ugly and I hate it!

Okay, I didn't really say all that to him but I wanted to!  I thought it best not to say anything at that point and settled with a laugh laced very heavily with sarcasm.  Yeah, he was a real comedian! 

Anyhow, Dickidoo had this great idea to do our taxes online this year.  Sure, if HE does it, because I tried once and I wasn't going to do it again, and I told him in no uncertain terms...

"I tried once, and I'm not going to do it again!"

So there I was last night at 8 o'clock sorting through various tax forms and typing in numbers.  (I don't know why they call them 'laptops', those buggers get too hot to set on your lap for long), pausing only long enough to cuss about how I couldn't believe I got suckered into doing the taxes again.   I got hung up on one area, when I left a blank instead of inserting $0, and I kept getting an error message without clear definition on what or where the error was.  Took 30 minutes to figure that one out, and by that time Dickidoo had taken over.

Let me tell you a little about Dickidoo... that guy reads EVERYTHING!  And he reads v..e..r..y  s..l..o..w..l..y!  Agh!  There could be a whole page of writing, and a little 'check yes or no' at the bottom, and he would read it ALL before checking the appropriate box.  And then he would double check it to make sure it was the right choice before finally clicking [NEXT], where once again he would slowly read the entire page before deciding it didn't pertain to us and tentatively click [NEXT].  I don't know if he was really that slow or if he was just doing that to irritate me, but I was about ready to slam the top down on his fingers and take over when he finally reached the end.

At any rate, our taxes are in, we got enough of a refund from the feds to pay the state, AND.... Dickidoo bought me a bottle of Bacardi Gold for 'services rendered'!  Kind of ironic isn't it, getting paid  with booze to prepare taxes with the Internal 'Revenue' Service!  I almost wished the rum had come in a jug with XXX painted on the side.

I have so much fun playing around with image generators.  The Generator Blog is constantly adding new sites and links to explore.  This image was done at the  Movie Marquee Generator.

Monday, April 17, 2006


The mailman just came by and delivered an Easter card from my grandbaby Zachary and his mom Kayle.  Inside I found the most adorable picture I have ever seen.  It is amazing how deeply this little child has touched the very being of my soul from so far away.  And for his mother, who has chosen another path in life that takes them so far from us... to be so willing to allow us to share in his life is a wish come true.  A year ago I didn't even know he existed... and now I can't imagine life without him.  I can barely sit still from the excitement of getting to see and hold him for the very first time. 



My day started off well yesterday.  As predicted, the store was packed with last minute shoppers scrounging through the quickly depleting stock of Easter merchandise in search of a thoughtfully chosen gift.  Only one person complained to me about the poor selection and I apologized to her for waiting until the last minute to announce the date for Easter this year.  I promised that next year we would give her one year's notice, giving her ample time to plan and prepare.  Satisfied with the result of her complaint, she began to walk away then stopped and looked back at me with a slightly puzzled look, but her husband chuckled and pulled her in the direction of the exit.

When I returned from my break I was hidden on the very last register near the far entrance, coincidence?  By then the traffic had slowed down considerably and I entertained myself with a self-inflating whoopy cushion that was left by a customer.  Customers gave me surprised looks and avoided my register.  I scolded nearby cashiers and managers after particularly musical outbursts.  Eventually a disgusted co-worker confiscated the rubber toy from me and I was forced to find an alternate means of entertainment.

Have you ever watched people when they are checking out on the self check-outs?  They talk to the machines, cuss at them, try to reason with them, argue with them, kick and hit them.  Yesterday one woman hit the [HELP] button and demanded to know where she was to put her items so the machine could bag them.  When she was informed that she would have to bag the merchandise herself, she became angry and tossed her purchases into the bags... as if it would hurt my feelings that she dented her canned goods or crushed her bread.

My intentions for Easter dinner had been good, but after some saddening news I suddenly found that I was in no mood for festivities.  We snacked on hardboiled eggs.  Later, I made a deadly concoction of leftover French fries topped with Cheddar cheese, blue cheese dressing and Franks hot sauce.  I grabbed a beer and stuffed a slice of lime down into the bottle.  Unfortunately that was right about the time my allergies decided to attack my eyes.

Never... EVER rub your eyes after stuffing a lime slice down into your bottle of beer.  And when you realize your mistake, don't try to rub the lime juice out of your eye with your other hand, especially when it has a little bit of Frank's hot sauce on it.  Agh!  I hate when I do that!

So today could only get better right?

Dickidoo woke me up at 6am with a cup of coffee.  It was sooooo premeditated.  He knew that I had the day off, and the kids didn't have to go to school... and he knew I would have hit him if he wasn't holding a cup of coffee over me.  He claims that he forgot, but I know better.... Heck, I would have done the same thing had we switched positions! 


Yesterday a deafening silence was heard across the www.  One Girl's Headnoise faded into a final peaceful rest.  The silence, however, was short lived as one after another, friends and relatives shook their heads in disbelief and cried 'No, No, No!' over and over.  Again and again they clicked the links and re-read the messages, hoping that there had been a mistake which would be cleared up with a simple [refresh].  But the words remained unchanged.  Pamela was gone.

Many of those who now mourn were readers long before the fateful day when she, in her usual graceful honesty, announced that she had lung cancer.  Since then we have laughed with her, cried with her, encouraged her, prayed for her, trying with all our might to give her strength, hope and maybe even to cure her.  And all the while, including when she was at her weakest, she in turn gave US strength.  Even now, in her passing, we remain inspired by her courage and grace.

If prayers and wishes alone could have cured her, she would have been cured a long time ago.  Some things cannot be controlled.  This one was out of our hands and it is with great sadness and reluctance that we let go and accept that she has fulfilled her mission here.  The time has come for her to move on to a new phase in her existence.

Pamela's legacy will be how she was able to touch the very hearts and souls of her readers.  Her willingness to share such an intimate part of her life has helped other cancer patients and their families cope.  Her ability to laugh in the face of such a formidable enemy, her honesty in how she viewed life and faced death, her love for family and friends, combined to make her a truly unique human being. 

Her sweet headnoise will be forever missed but never forgotten.

"If prayers were feathers, you could fly home..."  Pam has enough feathers now and she is flying home.  God Speed my dear friend.

Sunday, April 16, 2006


The kids woke to the absence of Easter Baskets this morning.  18 hard boiled eggs sat pale and colorless in a pot on the stove.  There were no jelly beans, no chocolate bunnies, no Peeps* (gasp!).  The only things on the table were last night's supper dishes.  There was no sign at all that the Easter Bunny had visited.  Coincidentally half of my beer stock was missing from the fridge.  A quick check of the Nanny-Cam offered this low resolution picture that will be submitted to the FBI for analysis.  While the leporidae in the picture is not being called a suspect at the moment, authorities considered it to be a 'rabbit of interest'.  If you see this dust bunny,  please contact the DBCofNA immediately.  Do not attempt to make contact with him, he is considered inebriated and high on jelly beans.

*I am in soooooo much trouble... I didn't pick up any Peeps and the store sold out of them last night before I got off work.  My kids are going to scream!   To them Easter is all about Jesus and Peeps!  Since I'm working and the others are out hunting, we'll do the Easter baskets later on this evening.  Maybe between now and then I'll be able to find some of those sugary marshmallow chicks.  Wish me luck!  Hahaha!  Watch, I'll be just as bad as my worst after-Easter customers... yeah, I'll fight someone over the last pack of Peeps if it means peace in the House of Oompa!

Saturday, April 15, 2006


This is just an old picture of mine but its one of my favorites.  I don't pretend to be an overly religious person but I do have a strong faith and sometimes 'choose' to see signs.  On that particular day, and to this day still, I 'choose' to be inspired by this scene.

Steve, Art and Becca will be setting out before sunrise in search of the Easter Turkey.  Not really.  Oh, they really are going turkey hunting, but it won't be for Easter dinner.  We'll be freezing them (the turkeys, not the kids) for our Harvest Feast in November. 

I hope everyone has/had a Happy Easter .  I'm going to hit the sack before the Easter Bunny busts me on the computer when I should have been in bed hours ago!  Go easy on the Peeps™ and jelly beans, and keep that Beano™ handy if you're going to celebrate with hard boiled eggs!  Thanks Lahoma for the jelly beans.  And thanks again to deslily for a very special Easter Bunny banner for Gabe's countdown.  (Don't worry Pat, he's going to kill me too for posting it!) 



BEANO™ extendtabs and Easter

"Watch out for the latent Taco Bell farts...."
Comment from princesssaurora- 4/14/06 9:52 AM

Boy, isn't THAT the truth!  Isn't it strange how something that smells sooooo good going in can smell sooooo bad coming out?!  I wonder if Beano™ comes in time released caplets, we could probably use some right about now.

I spent 8 hours yesterday selling manic shoppers a plethora of Easter goodies.... foil wrapped chocolate cartoon characters, gourmet jelly beans, plastic licensed character eggs, themed character coloring books, nighties and boxer shorts (?), you name it, someone manufactures it and I sell it to my customers.  Sadly I fear that we as a society are losing sight of the meaning of Easter.  I have decided that I will not participate in the almost obscene commercialization of such a sacred holiday.  I wonder if people even remember why we celebrate the day.  I for one intend to go back to the origins.  Tomorrow, after feasting on hard boiled eggs and chocolate bunnies we shall watch the classic story about 'Peter Cottontail' on the VCR.  Later we will gather for a traditional Easter Egg hunt and finally we shall sit around the fireplace and sing traditional Easter songs like 'Here Comes Peter Cottontail' and 'Little Bunny Foo Foo'.

Actually... tomorrow I get to work the morning shift, which means that I will be manning the registers while all of the last minute Easter shoppers, some in their Sunday best,  dig through the left-over jelly beans and complain about our lack of selection.  And there will almost surely be some who will demand a 50% discount but when I am unable to give them one, these devoted observers of the holiday will proceed to call me and the company every 25¢ word* in the book, leaving my ears burning and my mind wondering if they really actually pray with that mouth.

Which will make my return home to my awaiting family all the more enjoyable.  I don't know yet what we shall eat for dinner, I guess it doesn't really matter.  What does matter is that we will be able to share conversation and thoughts over a nice meal.  Zack will be at work but he has planned aspecial treat for his siblings.  Sadly Gabe will be far away fighting for another country's rights and freedoms, but he will be in our thoughts, as always.  And it won't be too much longer before he will share our dinner table again.

Today's countdown banner compliments of the very talented 'deslily'.  Thanks Pat!

*Note: The term '25¢ word' refers to cuss words, which cost me a quarter each time I am caught using them in front of the Oompas.

Friday, April 14, 2006

HILLBILLY BUFFET and gifts for the Grandbaby

We decided to take the kids out to eat last night at the Hillbilly Buffet (also known as Sams Club) ... but all of the samples were gone by the time we got there.  We ended up eating Taco Bell, as if we really needed to replenish the Oompas' fuel tanks!  The truck sounded like a broken tuba and smelled like a landfill.  Those kids were leaking from both ends and it was rank!  As hot as it was, we had to turn off the air conditioner and open all the windows just so we could breath.

The heat of the night just intensified my irritability and made me very cross.  I was sticking to myself and it felt positively icky.  It was sweltering.  Supposedly it was only 70 degrees yesterday, but that didn't include the 'wind still factor', which is the increased heat that just hangs in the air when there is no breeze to move it around and cool it down.  It may only have been 70 degrees but it felt like 100!  On a positive note, maybe if I sweat enough I'll lose some weight.

Or maybe it was just the full moon that had me all off kilter.  What ever it was, it has passed, which is a good thing because I was in good enough spirits to resist kneeing Dickidoo in a tender spot when he wouldn't wake up this morning to turn off the dang blasted alarm clock he had set for the ridiculous hour of 4 am, and I settled instead to just kick his leg instead.  And when the kids asked to eat the left over tacos for breakfast I happily gave my permission, after all, they will be at school when their systems finish processing the ingredients and start releasing the excess built up pressure and all of the wonderful fragrances that go along with it.  So long as they get it out of their systems before I get home from work they can eat what ever they want!

I sent a little green Easter Bunny to my grandson yesterday.  I wanted to send a real bunny but didn't think the critter would appreciate the trip.  I am beginning to understand why some grandparents who frequent my store always seem to go over board on gifts for their grandkids.  I used to roll my eyes when they would fuss over buying a Valentines Day or Saint Patrick's Day present.  Saint Patrick's Day present?  Saint Patrick's Day is for the wearing of the green, pinches, corned beef and cabbage... and BEER!  You don't give each other gifts... unless its BEER!  But now... now I'm beginning to understand, and I find myself just as guilty of trying to finding a reason, no matter how small, to spoil my little Grandbaby... whom I will get to meet and hold in just under a month's time!

Thursday, April 13, 2006


Well good golly, I don't know how I did it but I totally missed the 2nd Anniversary of the Dust Bunny Club of North America last month.  I began this journal on March 18, 2004 and have been sharing my hit-or-miss wit and wisdom, whether you need and want it or not, ever since.  To date I have posted 744 entries (not including this one of course), and received over 5,000 comments.  My hit counter reset during the early part of March but had exceeded 40,000 hits by then, and I swear, they weren't all from me.  Okay, perhaps most of them were, but I know for a fact that Dickidoo checks my blog fairly regularly to see what kind of damage I've done to his reputation lately so that accounts for some.

For those readers who have shared my goofy life, accepted my wacky ways, cheered and jeered the Oompas and Dickidoo, offered support and/or prayers for my son in Iraq and have not been totally disgusted or offended by some of my subject matter, thank you for being part of this all.  For those of you who can relate to some of the situations I find myself in, thank you for the reassurance that I am not alone. 

To all of my friends and family, old and new, I offer this blessing:  May the dust bunnies be your friends in lonely times, and know when to remain hidden when company comes calling! 

And for the two nasty readers who felt compelled to leave hateful comments:  May you be blessed with a lifetime of abundant, spontaneous, musical and fragrant flatulations! 

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


Part II

Commercial freezers are set at a much lower temperture than home freezers.  MUCH lower!  And it takes a little while for a frozen item to adjust to the warmer temperature of a home freezer.   Sometimes some items take MUCH longer than others.  I learned this the hard way yesterday.

It was lunch time and I had to rush home to pick Zack up and take him back to work.  After banging on his door, I remembered that I had a box of fudge pops in the freezer.  I love Fudgsicles but learned a long time ago not to stick one into my mouth immediately after buying them.  I always wait and let the frozen confection warm up a little bit.  I thought 18 hours in my freezer was long enough.

I thought wrong.

I realized my mistake almost immediately upon inserting the icy stick of frozen goodness into my mouth... and the tender inner skin of my upper and lower lips instantly adhered to its surface.  My first instinct was to pull the popsicle out but deja vu screamed out a warning.  My lips might be numb now from the cold and I might not feel the pain as the skin that was frozen to the artificially flavored, skin-eating missile of doom is ripped from my mouth but I would surely feel it once the area thawed.

So I proceeded to curse as best I could with my lips glued together, the Popsicle wagging and emphasizing each syllable in a way that my lips in their current condition could not.  My tongue almost latched on the the frozen pop as well and I quickly covered it with saliva and continued my rant.

I don't know how long I had to wait for the heat of my lips to finally cause the bond to break.  It may have been seconds, it might have been minutes, it felt like hours but as soon as I felt it give a little I yanked the ice cream out of my mouth, swallowed my collecting saliva and crowed triumphantly... Too soon!  When I returned the pop to my mouth to bite the offending top off, it adhered once again to my lips.  Right back where I started from.

Agh!  I hate when that happens!

Needless to say, if any of the kids had been around at the time I would have had to turn over about $5 to the cuss and fuss fund.  I finally finished my Fudgsicle without further incident, but man, they really need to put warning labels on those things!

I can still feel the sting on my inner lips now, a day later. 


EYEBROW SHAPING: grooming or masochism?

Today is another day off from work, so I trimmed my eye brows.  I learned a few years back never to pluck my eye brows before work or any other outing.  The last time I did, everyone asked me if I had done my brows.  I walked around feeling good about the trim, but a little disappointed that the change was so drastic that everyone felt compelled to make mention of it, until a visit to the ladies room revealed the reason for their comments.

The area that I had plucked had become swollen from the trauma of forced hair-removal.  And because I have a growth of fine hair covering my entire face, the plucked area, now devoid of the thick over growth, lay exposed, pale and splotchy against my otherwise darkly tanned face.  I looked like Peking Man's sister!

So anyhow, now days when I pluck my brows, it is done on a day when I won't be going out into the public, such as today, to give my face a little healing time.  Another problem I face is that once I start plucking and shape my brow... where do I stop plucking?  I can shape my brow with no problem but there will always be a bald patch surrounding my perfectly shaped arches, sans the hair-bridge that once joined them.  To say that I look like a panda bear is a harsh but apt analogy.

This morning I worked tirelessly on the plucking and shaping, and then trimming.  Once again the vanity sink was buried in hair clippings.  The roots from the lone white hair growing in my right eyebrow had gotten so long that they reached clear down to my sinuses and triggered a flash flood from my nose when I tried to pluck the stubborn hair. 

So here I sit with swollen brow, drippy nose and an uncontrollable twitch in my right eye as it slowly tries to recover from the trauma it had so recently endured during my vani-cure and I can't help but wonder why I do this to myself.  Why do I torture my body in such a way?  Is it for me?  No!  I'm quite happy with my unibrow, which doubles as a shade on bright sunny days.  For Dickidoo?  His unibrow is thicker than mine, and he has NEVER plucked it for me.  For others around me?  Well, it will take more than the removal of facial hair to make my profile more eye-friendly so no... my meager attempts at facial grooming does not benefit those around me either.

That settles it, I'm hanging up my tweezer/ suture needle holder and returning it to the fishing tackle box where it belongs.  No more eyebrow torture for me!  Goodbye eye-art, hello unibrow!


Tuesday, April 11, 2006


This is Zack showing off a few of his wrist watches.  He's been collecting them from the crane machine where he spends his break time and $$$ scooping up trinkets.  He has won approximately 12 wristwatches with alarms, plus 3 pocket watches.  Having that many time pieces should make him the most punctual person on the planet, but that is not the case.  None of the watches tell the same time, and all of the alarms go off at different times so there is always a buzzer or a beeper going off somewhere.  And Zack is ALWAYS late.

The other siblings aren't much better.  Rocky is content so long as she is not the last name on the tardy list.  There is an unspoken rule that makes being tardy okay if you are not the 'tardiest'.  Rocky will drag her feet all morning, right up to she gets to the school grounds. But if another student is getting out of their car at the same time, suddenly its a race to reach the entrance first.  Rocky almost always has a disadvantage because she must haul her snare drum and xylephone to school which weighs almost as much as she does but the fear of being the very last student through the doors gives her little feet wings.  I wish she could move that fast at home.

Becca and Art are very conscientious about being on time for school.   Everything else, however, is done in half hour increments, even the simplest of tasks.  There are no minute or second hands on their internal clock.  It takes a half hour to sign off of the computer or take out the trash.  It takes an hour to shower.  It takes them an hour to get ready for bed.  Sending them to bed an hour earlier only means that it will then take two hours to get ready for bed.  Naturally the extra time spent on a chore has absolutely nothing to do with the quality of work put into it.  Chances are they will dawdle around until the very last minute before they actually do the deed and then do a shoddy job just to get it done and over with.  (hmmmm, where I have heard that scenario before?)

So what exactly is'oompa time' ?  Quite simply, I would have to saywhat I say each and every time my children finally complete a task. 

"Well, its about time !"

'Oompa Time' is about time. (which should not be confused with dickidoo or boobidoo time... those fall under completely separate and totally different time zones!)

Sunday, April 9, 2006


Dickidoo kept trying to wake me up this morning, but today I don't start work until 10:15 and I wasn't budging one second sooner than I had to.  My bladder was about to burst but it would have to wait.  It was 9:00 before I got up.  Hmmmm... don't know how my clothes got all undone like that.

Ugh!  Wonderful, no toilet paper.

Tried to kick Becca off the computer so I could check my email to see if there was any news from Gabe.  It took her 15 minutes to sign out of everything.  She does the typical 'lol' stuff, but embellishes it with '(gasps)', and '(sighs)', and goes on to describe EVERYTHING she isn't really doing, such as 'runs around room and eats a doughnut' or something equally inane.  I guess my age is showing because I don't get it.  When I have to sign off, I just... sign off!  Takes all of one second. (sighs and shakes head, takes a swig of hazelnut laced coffee to clear head and better understand the juveniles oompas).

No turkeys yet, at least not the wild, feathered type.  The gang will probably try again this afternoon.   The turkey are out, they just weren't responding to the calls yesterday.  Our friend was marveling on how good Dickidoo was at imitating turkey calls, so I had to explain to him that English is actually Dickidoo's second language and Turkey is his native tongue.  That alone should explain a whole mess of things, like how Dickidoo planned on taking pictures yesterday with just the camera lenses!
34 Days And A Wake Up!

Saturday, April 8, 2006


I got an email from Gabe this morning.  He has gotten confirmation on his leave and the date is May 15th!  It will take another 3 to 5 days after that to get home, but at least he will be out of Iraq soon.  Let the countdown begin!

Spring turkey season began this morning.  Rocky went with Art, their dad and friend Bert to get us some turkey.  Steve didn't buy a tag so he could concentrate on coaching the kids.  And of course he would capture the hopefully successful hunt on camera.  They've been out there since before sun up. I wonder how many pictures he got.  Probably not too many being as he grabbed the camera bag but forgot to check to make sure the camera was inside.  (those extra lenses sure are heavy!  ).

New pictures are posted on Dickidoo's photo journal: PAPARRAZI BY PROXY.  Just to clarify things, all of the pictures are Dickidoo originals, I just post them and add a little information on the subject.  As much as it grieves me to admit this... some of his pictures are pretty good... So good in fact that he really should consider investing in a camera of his own.  Or buy his wife the neat-o-wow D200 at which time she would gladly relinquish custody of the D70 to him.  (hint, hint!)

I set up the coffee pot for the guys last night before I went to bed so all they had to do was pour the water into the Bunn-Omatic Brew-Omatic and a minute later they could have hot, steaming coffee.  How thoughtful of them to leave the pot on so that I could have hot coffee waiting for me when I woke up.  Unfortunately that was not to be for another 4 hours.  What remained in the pot was as thick as crude oil!  They even saved me the last bit of hazelnut creamer but the coffee was so thick the creamer barely even lightened its color.  I added some water to the mixture... it didn't help.  But man, what a pick-me-upper!  That one cup of coffee should keep me going all day!  Yehaw!

FlamingText: Free online tool for generating custom webpage graphics and animations.


There is not much more irritating than a child who constantly inquires 'why?' and follows the answer up with another more irritating 'why?'.  Being a 'why?' child myself did not make raising 5 inquisitive children of my own any easier.  It has however given me insight into the 'whys' and 'wherefores' as an adult and for the most part I can pretty much figure things out on my own.

With one exception. 


Bleach will clean stains off of clothes.  It whitens whites and brightens brights.  It removes stains from counters and floors.  It even removes color from clothes when accidentally splashed on clothing.

So why oh why when it is used to remove dirt and grime from the floor or counters.... why does it transfer the stain to the cloth used to wipe it up, which in turn becomes permanently stained?  Shouldn't it just rinse right off the cloth with water?  After all, it is saturated with bleach.   Shouldn't you, at the very least, be able to bleach the stain out with more bleach?  It just doesn't make any sense.  I love to use Clorox Clean-up to clean my floors with, but I can pretty much kiss anything I use in the process goodbye because the towels and even my clothing, become hopelessly stained by the bleach-soaked grime. 


? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

FlamingText: Free online tool for generating custom webpage graphics and animations.

Friday, April 7, 2006


I tried that new Coke yesterday, Coca Cola BlāK.  You know the one, with a shot of coffee?  My conclusion.... there's a lot of things that taste good in Coke, like Bacardi for instance.  But coffee?  Nope!  Do you folks remember the New Coke some years back?  That was a dud, and this BlāK blek isn't much better.  I even tried dressing it up with a little rum, kind of like a Black Russian but that turned out to be a complete waste of alcohol.

Everyone is starting to put fruits and other flavors in their sodas.  Cherry Coke (hey, isn't that what Dr. Pepper is basically?)  Berry Vanilla Dr. Pepper (huh?), Lime Pepsi, Fruit 7-Up.  

And that's not the only thing that is crossing over into other flavors.  Have you tried Dill Pickle potato chips?  Fish tacos?  Green tea chewing gum.  Are we as a society really that bored with our current standard flavors that we have to go inventing new ones just so we have something new to try and dislike?  Cattle were happy for centuries eating the same old grass flavored grass.  Then humans come along, mixed up a batch of special cow-chow complete with high protein additives like ground up cow by products and shazaam!  We've just invented Mad Cow!  I for one am not afraid to admit that when it comes to food, 'good' is  good enough for me.  I don't need 'new and improved' if the product was good to begin with.

I love Coke, I love coffee, but I don't like BlāK.  Sorry Coke, but you should just stick to The Real Thing.  Leave the coffee to Starbucks.

Thursday, April 6, 2006


I'm not sure, but I think I just got 'had'.

Dickidoo wanted to use my camera this morning.  I said being as I had the day off, I was planning on using it myself.  He suggested that I could come to his work place and pick it up later in the morning.  With gas prices being what they are, I agreed but on the condition that he buy me lunch.

So far the plan was actually equally beneficial.  He got the camera, and had lunch delivered to him.  I got a meal out of it.

But Dickidoo over slept this morning and the sun was already on the rise before he rolled out of bed.  He had missed the photo opportunity he had hoped to get of the turkeys in their roost trees at sunrise.  Great!  So I would get the camera all morning!

That was about the time Dickidoo realized that today was my payday.  Since he only had a half hour for lunch, and it was my payday, he suggested that I bring him lunch.  Without even thinking (and because he did just invest in some Journey and Def Leppard tickets for us), I agreed.  And... since my morning was going to be fragmented when I ran his lunch out to him  I suggested that he go ahead and take the camera because I didn't want to go out on a shoot and only have an hour before I had to get lunch....

Sooooooo.... HE has the camera all morning, I buy HIS lunch and drive it to HIM using MY gas... Yeah, I got had! 

Agh!  I hate when that happens.

Wednesday, April 5, 2006


I went to the post office yesterday to mail a package to Gabe.  There was a spring in my step and my box rattled of colorful jelly beans and crisply wrapped chocolate rabbits, cradled gently by a fluffy Easter Bunny dressed in a camouflage shirt and matching hat.  A card signed with love from all of the members of the family was placed in the box before it was carefully sealed.  Gabe was thousands of miles away in a land that doesn't observe our holidays and traditions so we were sending the holiday to him.  

I love the people at my post office, but I'm beginning to think the feeling is not mutual.  I swear to goodness golly that every time I step into that building, they look up at me and close down a counter.  It never fails... each and every dagnammit time I go there, I walk in the door, they see me and poof!  Break time!  Yesterday there were 3 clerks, and the line was almost out the door.  I step in, they smile and then there are only 2 clerks.  After waiting 30 minutes (yes, I timed it because they have a clock right there), and only 4 customers had been served since my arrival,  I gave up and relinquished my place in line so I could get back to work. 

This morning there were two clerks and two people in line.  The postal employees smiled and I dared them to leave the counter.  When it was my turn, I took the box I had so carefully wrapped and dropped it on the counter in triumphant determination.  The contents no longer rattled and crinkled but instead made a somewhat soggy thud.  I think I even caught the faint aroma of fruity chocolate.  The Easter candy had no doubt succumbed to the heat of the truck. 

"Are you a commercial shipper?" the clerk asks me.

"Yes, its just a coincident that my last name and my customer's last name are the same."

"Any liquids or perishables?" she asked automatically.

"I think the chocolate may have melted while I was waiting yesterday, but I'm sure the stuffed bunny will have soaked it up."

"This will take about 2weeks for delivery." she informs me.

"Two weeks and one day... I was here yesterday but you took your break when I walked in so I couldn't mail it then."

I hope Gabe can salvage something from the gooey mess that was to be his Easter basket.  And I hope he gets it on time.  His camp's mail-call is pretty good about deliveries.  They know how important mail is for the troops and even made deliveries on Christmas last year.

As for my post office folk, I love them, I really do.  I just wish they would get it out of their minds that I'm some kind of break announcer.  Keep the dang lines open when I come in, sheesh!  Work with me here people, I've got a son to send bits and pieces of home to.  Can I get a little bit of cooperation... please?

Monday, April 3, 2006

Give a Hill Billy a little technology and what do you get?

Something to laugh about!  Hahahahaha!
Dickidoo has a bachelor's degree in business management.  He didn't get it from Sally Struthers in exchange for a doughnut, he actually had to earn it.  He has a laptop and he knows how to use it!  He's the fastest 2-finger typist I know.  And see there clipped on to his waist... its a cell phone.  You can't see the other one but he has two cell phones... one for the family, and one for work.  Yesterday I asked him for the number to his work phone so our son Gabe would have another option if he ever needed to get in touch with us.  And so I waited, and waited, and waited for Dickidoo as he poked around on his fancy schmancy government cell phone trying to figure out what his number was.  When it became too much for me to bear I suggested that he just call his other cell phone from his work phone and he could copy the number down when it appeared in the incoming call screen. 

So now I'm wondering how he gives people at work his number,  "Huh... I don't quite know my number yet so if you give me your number I can call you and you can just save my phone number that way..."   Maybe I should pin it to his shirt like I did with the kids when they first started school and needed to memorize their phone number.  "Hi, my name is Dickidoo, I live here and this is my phone number"

One of the neat things about being married for as long as we have been is that sometimes we don't even need to speak because we know what the other is thinking.  Dickidoo is always telling me to 'Shut up!' even when I don't say a word!  Last night was one of those times.  Unfortunately he doesn't always specify how long I should shut up for.  Silly man should have known I would repeat the story here!  Hehehehehe!