Cathy in the Wright

Break out the Single Malt

Hey! I broke the 1000 mark on the old Site Meter. Juice and crackers for everyone.

I could use a little adult juice right now. Long day. We spent the morning over at one of The Senator's friend's house. One whose mother is still talking to us after the "Ted Kemmedy is a Crat" espisode at the last playdate house.

The mom has a home daycare business. I don't know how she doesn't go crazy. I don't think the decibel level dropped below Guns N' Roses level once. But what a fun place for a kid. They have dogs and rabbits and chickens and toys. A million toys. The Senator spent most of the time chasing his friend around trying to shave off his ankles with a play weed trimmer.

Came home and spent the afternoon trying to stuff The Governor full of anything that would make him poop. He was going on three days without depositing any goodies in the diaper. Bowels of iron. He's had prunes and cherries and grapes and yogurt and was just about to get a suppository when the warm bath finally won out and his sphincter cried "Uncle!" Thank G*d.

Tomorrow's another long day, but I'm really looking forward to it. My sister and I are driving to Missouri for a family reunion. The VP is staying behind with boy/dog duties. Too bad for him. Because once his bowels loosen, The Governor has been known to go for days of...well, let's just say the prunes et al. catch up with him.

So, probably no blogging for the next couple of days. No diapers either. Have a great weekend. I know I will!

Got Chicken?

PETA brought their "Chicken Holocaust" exhibit to the Minnesota State capital on Tuesday. The Star Tribune has the story. I like this guy:

But Lee Arnold was adamant that the whole exhibit was a farce. Arnold of West St. Paul said it really bothered him when he heard PETA was comparing animals and humans.

Arnold said PETA was focusing on a small segment of farmers and using them to describe the whole industry. Besides, he said, he just has an affinity for meat.

"I'm pro-choice, I'm pro-death penalty and I'm pro-chicken," he said, munching on chicken wings.

Not Before My Morning Caffeine

Rodger over at Curmudgeonly & Skeptical posted a picture of Dick Gephart, and my first thought was "Gephart died! How did I miss that huge news story!"

Go take a peek. Tell me he doesn't look like he's been under the care of a mortician.

Aging Gracefully

Nursing home day. I relate the following interesting conversation:

In the Alzheimer's unit, five ladies were sitting around a table, and I joined them. We started talking about the upcoming Cokato Corn Carnival, and the parade which starts the event each year. We were discussing the best way to shove little kids out of the way to get the candy. Then I asked them, "If the city had an adult parade...what kind of things should the Dairy Princess toss from her float?" Without a moment of hesitation, the gals started firing off the following answers:

whiskey
cigarettes
chocolates
scotch
money

And next week, we're going to have the same conversation, and it will be twice as funny.

Behold...the Power of Delete

Dear Mom,

Thank you for pointing out my grammatical error in my last post. The error has since been corrected. I also deleted your comment, as it is no longer needed.

If you would like to be of future editorial help, may I send my posts to you before I publish them? You could then take out your red pen and mark away and I would be spared the embarrassment of having my friends and family see that an English major was too lazy to go back and proof-read her own work.

I've also got reams of stuff from college that you never had a chance to lay your hands on...interested? It might keep you and The Professor busy for months.

Curiosity

Yes, I understand what happed to the cat and the Man with the Yellow Hat's primate friend, but still....I'm curious. I'd love to know who is visiting. Besides my parents and my in-laws, that is.

Whoever you are, thanks!

I Screamed at the Ice Cream

Steve H. over at Little Tiny Lies had a review of Cold Stone Creamery which I wish I had written. There is one of these joints located not too far from the field where I play on Sundays, and I've headed over there with some teammates twice. Both times it was unimpressive.

On my first visit, all I could think was that I had 3 month old, crystal-encrusted ice cream in my freezer at home which would have tasted better. The second visit I had the chocolate ice cream. So did both of my friends. All of us agreed it tasted like mocha. I HATE mocha flavored anything. I will say that the young kids working there were exceptionally nice about taking it back and replacing it with my second choice (a flavorless white chocolate ice cream), but next time I need ice cream after a game, we're heading to the grocery store across the mall from Cold Stone, grabbing a pint of Kemps and a handful of plastic spoons.

Heeeeeeee's Back!

Chris Muir and Day by Day are back at the wheel. Glad you're home, Chris!

(I feel like a junkie who just got a fix after an attempt to quit cold turkey. Aaaaah.)

Send My Children to the Moon

I wasn't sure I was going to be able to finish that last post. I was typing away, when the screen went black. Huh?

The Governor, who was wandering around the bedroom and bathroom (The Senator was in the tub), crept up under the chair and turned off the computer. Got the computer back on and picked up The Gov to discover he is soaking wet. I look towards the bathroom. Water all over the floor.

Senator, how did The Gov get all wet?

He gave me a look that implied I was immensely thick-headed and said, "Because I got him wet."

How?

"I dumped a big cup of water on him."

I went into the bathroom to supervise The Senator's clean-up of the mess, and discovered that The Gov had torn off half a roll of toilet paper, which was now in wet, lumpy piles all over the floor.

Both boys stood still and waited for the impending doom.

Aw, screw it. Let's go have ice cream.

Some days it's just not worth the fight.

What the Well-Dressed Rottie is Wearing

Those of you who are IMAO fans will know that Frank has a wonderful idea about Nuking the Moon for world peace. He's got a t-shirt espousing the theory, and he has been asking for pictures of his fans wearing them. Here's one of Frank's biggest fans, The Crazyweiler, sporting his shirt. He ordered 30 of them. I hope Frank accepts returns.

Look for The Crazyweiler in Frank's Peace Gallery. (His mug shot is already in there.)

Saturday Funnies

Stolen directly from Acidman's page:

A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost. He reduced the altitude and spotted a woman below. He descended a bit more and shouted.

"Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."

The woman replied, "You are in a hot air balloon approximately 30 feet above the ground. You are between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude."

"You must be a Republican," said the balloonist.

I am," said the woman. "How did you know?"

"Well," answered the balloonist, "Everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help so far."

The woman below responded. "You must be a Democrat."

"I am," replied the balloonist, "but how did you know?"

Well," said the woman, "You don't know where you are or where you are going. You have risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it's my fault."

No. 34 with Extra Fried Mice

Now here's the funniest thing I've heard in a while. Discovered the link on Grouchy Old Cripple.

Popular with the Ladies...

Guess why.

Whew!

Sorry about missing yesterday's post. I didn't have a chance to make it near the computer. Nursing home in the morning; 15 month check-up for The Governor in the afternoon; soccer game in the evening. Put quite a few miles on the car.

On my way to the game last night, I noticed a banner hanging off the roof of a small bank in Delano. (Delano being one of the larger cities in Wright County.) The banner advertised "TELEPHONE BANKING!" Whooooppppeee! Banking done over the phone. No more hitching up the horse and buggy for the drive to the bank. This is going to stink, however, for all those poor folks who still have party lines.

Civilization makes its presence known in Wright County!

So...big news on the Hussein boys, huh? I didn't have a chance to get a newspaper today, or read anything on the Internet yet, so I don't know if I'm missing any good pictures. After everything I've read about Uday...I wouldn't mind seeing his bullet-riddled body. Me and a lot of other folks in Iraq.

Today was supposed to be a lazy shopping day for me. (A break from my usual pool-sitting, bon-bon consuming afternoons.) The VP called and informed me that the payroll computer went, I believe his word was "Kaplewy," and so I was pressed into service retrieving busted computer from one location and ferrying it to Best Buy for possible repair or hopefully data recovery. No word yet on the patient's condition. Bought a new computer (well, The VP did) and I got to shuttle it back to our controller's office where it awaits initiation. No time to hang out in Marshall Fields trying on shoes. Sigh. My life. One hardship after another.

The in-laws (Nana and Buppa) took both boys swimming at the lake, and should be home any minute. I have had one whole hour of silence and privacy here in my own house. Just goes to show you how much I love you guys. I'm here writing instead of searching for a new box of bon-bons and the latest romance novel.

More later tonight if we're out of chocolates.

Green Acres...

Awesome soccer last night. Hot, steamy, sweaty, and I scored. Twice. The dirty innuendos are up to you.

On the drive home I was thinking about country living. (It’s about an hour drive from the outpost to my Sunday playing field; I have a lot of time to think.) I love living in the country. You couldn’t pay me to move back to the city. Well, you could…but probably not with the numbers you’re sporting in your bank account. Bill Gates, possibly.

Anyway, I was thinking about the many things a city person, contemplating a move to a rural setting, should know. State law should really require an extended disclosure statement from anyone selling a plot of land within a stone’s throw of a cornfield or feed lot. Things you might find on such a statement might include:

1. Turkeys are called fowls for a reason. I’m not sure there is anything stinkier than a turkey barn. Except maybe two turkey barns. I would rather work in a medical examiner’s lab on the worst decomposing bodies than live next to a turkey barn. The only time a turkey ever smells good is coming out of the oven.

2. If you live on a dirt (gravel) road, you will never, ever be free of dust. Don’t bother cleaning for company until half an hour before they arrive, because by the time they leave, you will once again be able to write your name in the dust on coffee table.

3. And speaking of gravel roads…after a good soaking rain, driving on them is like driving on glare ice.

4. More driving advice: Never go anywhere without leaving yourself a little extra time in case the neighbor’s cows get out and are milling in the middle of the road.

5. Drive slowly when approaching any bridge over a river or creek. The local kids like to swim in the rivers and creeks, and often use these bridges as diving platforms. Frequently these kids will mill about (quite like loose cattle) in the middle of the road.

6. Do not ask any local country person for directions unless you have also lived in the country for some time. Country folks do not know street names. They never did. They use landmarks. For example, if you need to find the Miller’s farm, you will be told, “It’s about three miles up on the left. Turn by the big power lines. Go until you see the red silo. Take a right and follow the road to the old iron bridge. Hang a left just after the bridge. Go past the old Jessop farm, and take another right by the deep culvert where the Jones boy crashed his truck. The Miller’s are just up on the left past the place where that guy sells Herefords.”

7. When it comes time to harvest crops, farmers will work around the clock. If Farmer Smith wants to fire up the old combine at 11:30 at night…no one will think it’s odd. And the county sheriff’s deputy will laugh at you if you make a noise complaint.

8. Snowmobiles are a perfectly acceptable way to get to high school in the winter.

9. It is legal in most rural counties to pull over on the side of a County Highway and chat with a friend you’ve seen coming the other direction. Don’t worry; the friend will see you. Everyone watches the on-coming traffic to see if they might know someone. And if you make the mistake of concentrating on the road instead of the other drivers, you might miss it if someone waves to you. Then they’ll think you’re a stuffy, unfriendly city person. Total strangers will wave, and don’t think they won’t find out who you are if you don’t wave back.

10. Everyone will eventually know your business. It doesn’t matter how far out of town you live or how private a life you try to lead. Some day, a total stranger will approach you at the local diner and say, “Aren’t you the Camp woman? How’s your son’s sinus infection? Did your father-in-law get that piece of property he bid on? Did I hear that you’re all heading out to Colorado this summer? Hope you have a good visit.” And they mean it.

There are a lot of other examples, but any more than 10 could be construed as whining. That might give you the wrong impression. I really love living in the country.

Beware

The noble Crazyweiler. On guard 24/7. Constantly alert. Always on the look-out for intruders or Scooby Snacks.

Book Review

Since this seems to be the summer for tell-all type of books (Hillary, JFK, et al.), I though I should point out a fantastic expose I found. Framed by the media, an alleged killer tells his side of the story. Once you start reading, you won’t put it down until you finish.

Set in a small town, this book follows the path of a questionable protagonist in ill health who is seeking aid from his uncaring, selfish neighbors. He tells riveting tales of murder, gruesome victim disposal, and slipshod (perhaps even criminal) journalism by the liberal media. Crime scene illustrations, too.

Don’t miss this surefire bestseller from Puffin Books.

The Real Story of the Three Little Pigs. by A. Wolf
As told to Jon Scieszka
Illustrated by Lane Smith

Any kid’s book that refers to Pig No. 3 as “that rude little porker” is sure to become a classic. It’s currently The Senator’s favorite bedtime story.

MVP

I don't like to brag
And I'm not really vain
But last night it was ME
Who saved our ball game.

Sorry. Been reading too much Dr. Seuss lately.

And yes. I saved the game. The first half we were down 0-1. Second half I took over goal-tending duties. We won 3-1. This victory was all me. Had nothing to do WHATSOEVER with the fact that my taking net released our fastest player out onto the field and the guy who scored two of our goals showed up at the start of the second half.

Nope. All me. It was the spectacular diving saves. The penalty kick showdowns where I intimidated the opposing players. Brilliant recoveries from shots rebounding off the pipes. Taking out their star forward in an almost bloody tangle of limbs as he raced towards me all alone.

Okay. I touched the ball once. And it wasn't even a close call.

The highlight of my evening was standing up after putting my cleats on and discovering I had been sitting on the dried-out remnant of a frog. Ick.

Tonight's another game. Thank to The VP for leaving the convertible at home! Note to VP: I'm going to try and tie your mph record from the stop sign on County Road 6 to the first mailbox. 96 was it? Piece of cake.

More later if The Governor decides to take a nap. Have a great Friday.

Merriam-Webster Missed One

The Senator and I were doing some chores around the outpost today. We were hauling the trash down to the dumpster, and we saw a woodchuck. I recited the “How much wood…” rhyme. He asked, “Mom, does a woodchuck go into the woods and beave down a whole mess of trees?”

Beave?

“Yeah, you know, like a beaver beaves down trees?”

He created his own verb.

While I applaud the creativity, I had to hand down a few English language guidelines. I’m afraid “beave” could get us into some trouble somewhere down the road.

That didn't take long

To get back to reality, that is. First night back: Hoocher jumps the door and comes into our bedroom at 12:30 a.m. An hour later I hear crying. Check on both boys; they're fine. I must be making up for lost time. I keep picturing that hammock by the lake....sigh.

I had a little time to catch up on my reading. Two big things. The first is that while I was away, Chris Muir of Day by Day is on a medical leave. Andrea Harris says it's for surgery. I hope everything goes well for him. It's going to feel like a year before he comes back. Get better soon, Chris!

The other big news (to me) is that I looked at my site meter and saw a couple of people coming here from Rachel Lucas' blogroll. Huh? Me? I headed over and sure enough I was on there. I'm on the extended list...you have to click to see me...but there I am! Wow. One time Lileks wrote (after seeing himself addressed on InstaPundit) something to the effect of "it's like seeing 'James, you left your car keys at Starbucks' on the front page of the New York Times." That pretty much captures the feeling.

Wow. Rachel Lucas has visited. If I had any talents whatsoever at design...I'd put a picture of a small bronze plaque in the corner with "Rachel Lucas was Here."

Wow. WOW!

Yep..you're going to need to scrape me off the ceiling again, aelfheld!

Back!

What a great vacation. I don't think I've felt quite that relaxed since before The Senator was born.

It helps to have five of your funniest friends present...lots of libations...a crystal clear lake...few mosquitoes...good food...great napping accommodations...bonfires each evening...and zero worries.

Lots of great stories and I can't wait to download the pictures from our camera. Let me say that there is more than one person who is sweating a bit to see if I am going to expose them here. Bwah ha ha ha - I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

I was happy to get home and get the boys back. The Governor is saying a few new words, including "Honda" which happens to be the first word The Senator said. The Honda around here is the 4-wheeler that gets a lot of use as a joy-riding vehicle for the boys.

Many, many thanks to The Professor, The GG, Nana, and Buppa for watching our little dignitaries. I was able to really enjoy myself knowing the boys were in such great hands. Thanks again.

I have lots of reading to do; I missed quite a few days of blog reading. We didn't have access to a computer. No TV. And only one of us had a watch. Great vacation...in case I forgot to say so earlier.

Time to put The Gov back to bed. He's in his crib, but he's fussing. What could be wrong? Just a hunch, but I'm wondering if someone didn't get spoiled and rocked to sleep each night while we were gone. Might be a looooong night.

As much as I regretted having to leave the cabin today (others were openly weeping), it does feel good to be back.

G'Night

Back to reality...

Well, I've finally come down off the ceiling. Thanks for noticing, aelfheld. :)

I still can't believe Chris Muir left me a couple of comments. What a buzz!

No swimming lessons today; just a bunch of tedious errands in preparation for the weekend. Our main objective today is to get The Governor back to the doctor. He's started coughing and it's keeping him up at night. And seeing as my parents are going to be taking care of him for the next couple of days, I thought it prudent to see if I can fix him before I bring him over to their house.

Also on the docket for today (look away if you're squeamish): Scrubbing the mudroom walls and trying to remove the hundreds of dead mosquito bodies and blood splats. When the dogs come in for the evening, they're covered with the darn pests from snoot to tail. (Or in The Crazyweiler's case...snoot to nub.)

And speaking of The Crazyweiler...this picture is for Uncle Mike. We thought The Crazyweiler's eyes looked just a little extra crazy in this photo. Let me know if you want us to bring him up to the cabin, huh?

Soccer game tonight. Looks promising. Rain and mosquitoes. Can you imagine a better way to spend a Friday night? Don't answer that.

I'll try to squeak in a brief post tomorrow. I'm not sure what time we're leaving. But if I don't get the chance...hope you all have a great weekend and I'll be back mid-week. Or sooner if The Crazyweiler and I get sent home early from the cabin.

May I see your party card?

Finally back home. After swimming lessons, we headed over to The Senator's friend's house for some wild play time. Four moms, one dad, and a bazillion children. Or so the noise level seemed to indicate.

The Senator and his friend, Sara, started to play "Find the Bad Guys." I sent them off to find Adolf Hitler in the downstairs playroom. They found him and dispatched of him swiftly. Then The Senator comes upstairs and says, "Hey Mom...where's Oily Ted?" One of the other mother's asked who Oily Ted was. Before I could head off his reply, The Senator says, "You know, Oily Ted Kemmedy. He's a Crat."

Not all the mothers in our play group are quite as conservative as I am.

"Well, look at the time. We better head home for lunch now, Senator! It's been fun seeing you all. My house next week?"

By the way...Have I mentioned yet today that Chris Muir is a genius and impeccable taste in blogs? Thanks, Chris for the comments!!!! You have no idea how much you've made my day!

I'm Never Dusting My Monitor Again

I was a little sleepy this morning...but I'm WIDE AWAKE now! I was looking at my last post. Chris Muir left me a comment! He read my site! I'm still rubbing my eyes in disbelief. The Chris Muir. The genius behind Day by Day. The guy who would make a fortune off me if he would put Damon's face on a t-shirt.

Just last night I saw Instapundit recommending that everyone write to their local papers to carry Day by Day. I was laughing because The Minneapolis StarTribune would sooner endorse the KKK than carry an intelligent political cartoonist. But I'll write anyway.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHH!

I still can't believe it.

Did I mention yet how excited I was that Chris Muir left me a comment?

Heh

Another great find from Power Line! Go read about the Running of the Dems Dwarfs.

Life's a bowel bowl of 'em

The place where I get my hair cut, Juut Salon, is a bit on the politically correct, stuffy side. I'm pretty sure my political and moral compass needle points 180 degrees opposite to those of the staff. Why do I go? The hair cut is an afterthought. I go pay my $50 for Breanna to rub a bunch of nice-smelling oil through my hair and give me a head and shoulders massage before we go shampoo. Worth. Every. Penny. Nearly fell asleep in the chair today. If I could get The VP to do this...we'd save fifty bucks every six weeks. I'd cut my hair myself.

Hey! Here's a tidbit that falls into the "I Didn't Need to Know That" category: eating a huge bowl of cherries does not agree with my system. I could do it as a kid. Now I need to plan ahead and make sure I'm going to be home for the evening if I eat a big bunch of them for lunch.

And to my sister...did you get the time off for the family reunion? My mom's side of the family has been getting together down in Missouri for the past several years. This is the first year I didn't get an invitation, so I'm going to crash it. Hopefully, my sister will join me.

And speaking of my sister...she and her husband have kindly invited us up to his family's cabin for a couple of days. So my sporadic blogging will change to non-exsistent after Saturday. Intermittent writing to continue mid-week.

Finally got The Governor down for a nap. Time for some more cherries. Mmmmm.

Zzzzzz........

These swimming lessons are killing me. I think I'm going to petition for some late evening hours for next year. I'm not much of a morning person. Neither is The Senator.

Had a late game last night. (If any of my teammates are reading...could you click on the Comments and tell me what was the final score?) We were tied 2-2 when I left. I was trying to get home a little earlier so I could get some sleep. Finally hit the pillow about midnight, only to have The Governor wake up coughing around 4 am. I like to daydream about the day I drop The Governor off at college (in another state) and The Senator is living on his own, and there are no dogs in the house and I will sleep for a straight week and a half.

Well...it's time to wake the boys and head off to swimming lessons. Must remember to remind The Senator that spitting water at the cute girl in your class is not done.

More late tonight if I'm still conscious.

Ugh

What a Monday. Had trouble sleeping last night. Then got up at 6 with The Governor. No chance to go back to bed because The Senator had swimming lessons at 8:30. 8:30 a.m. is about two full hours earlier than his normal waking time. The two of us were trying valiantly to out-grouch each other.

After swimming lessons we headed to the pediatrician because The Gov had been sticking his fingers in his ears all weekend. Good news! No ear infection. $20 to see the doctor for 5 minutes to find out all's clear. I would have paid $50. I never mind doling out money to hear the good news.

On the ride home from the doctor's office, The Gov fell asleep in the car. He had a 40 minute nap which he refused to continue once we got home. This was an extra bummer because The Senator actually took a nap and so the opportunity for me to catch a few zzzzs was there...right beyond my fingertips.

Ah well. The babysitter should be here in an hour. The VP and I are going to meet up for dinner. Maybe we can get a dim booth in the back of a quiet restaurant. I could put my head down for just a few minutes....maybe until dessert arrives.

Problem Solving 101

Last night I was getting a bit worried about The Governor. He had not had a bowel movement in two days. The VP and I were discussing whether or not to head into the urgent care center. Then I had an idea.

Given The Gov's penchant for polluting his bathwater with his own sewage...a warm bath might work better than all the prunes we'd been stuffing down his gullet.

After several minutes in the tub I still had no results. And then, in one of my rare moments of brilliantly clear thinking, I realized the problem. I started tossing bath toys into the mixture. Sure enough....Kapow! Blockage cleared.

I swear he was holding out until he could achieve the maximum amount of clean-up labor involved for me.

Blog Roll Updated...

I made a few changes to my Links List. I read A Small Victory each day. Actually, several times a day if I have the time. Same with Andrea Harris. I don't know why I didn't have them up on the Blog Roll in the first place.

I've also added Power Line. These guys are great. It always makes me feel safe and secure when I hear intelligent, conservative voices coming from Minnesotans. It's like hearing your favorite lullaby when you're a small child. You sleep just a little bit better at night.

"Daddy, sing that song again...the one where Governor Pawlenty stuck to his guns and refused to raise taxes."

Sleep? Anyone? Anyone? Sleep?

We had a good storm last night. Not great. Not spectacular. But good. Lots of lightning and thunder and rain. I wasn't fully awake to enjoy it all...until someone decided he had to jump in bed with us.

Hoocher, that is. He had jumped the half door of the mudroom and come to join us. When I hauled him back to the mudroom, I couldn't blame him for wanting to get out of there. The other two dogs were going crazy. They hate storms. They pant and they drool and they whine. The Crazyweiler also tries to become as small as possible and thinks he can hide in the corner behind his water dish, usually knocking it over. (A space where a Jack Russel terrier might fit.)

Here's proof. I had moved the water bowl out from the wall so he would quit stepping in it.

I had to stay with them until the worst of the storm was over. And every time I got them settled, and stood up to leave...

*FLASH* - KRAAACKBOOOOOOM! Another flash of lightning and peal of thunder. More drool, panting, whining. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Today we are running errands, and one of my stops is going to be to see Dr. P., the vet. Can you say "Doggie Downers?"

Important!

No car should ever be without a tube of Chapstick and a container of Tic-Tacs. Never.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Rachel Lucas had this post today to clarify why The Dissident Frogman didn't see the American Flag next to several of our allies' banners.

I was too quick to jump on the French-bashing bandwagon on that one.

I'm sorry to add to the general blogosphere condemnation.

Dust Bunnies Dinosaurs

Today I decided (1/2 hour before the babysitter arrived) that I needed to do some "touch-up"vacuuming. I ended up moving the livingroom sectional and hoovering up the dust that has been collecting behind it since we moved into this house. Six years of dust. I could almost pick it up (the dust) with my fingers.

When my mother-in-law revives after reading this...I hope she remembers that I think she's the BEST mother-in-law in the world and that one of my favorite things about her is her ability to overlook my shortfalls in the housekeeping department!

What's in a Name?

Okay...I'm curious. Aelfheld. A last name? A small woodland sprite imprisoned? :)

F the French

Thanks to aelfheld for pointing me to this website. It's home to another Good Thing from France. There's got to be more. Keep 'em coming!

Hungry?

I just saw Breezy snap at, catch, and eat a fly. Once I got over my feeling of revulsion...I was quite proud of her. That's one fly that won't be bothering anyone else in the family tonight.

Good girl.

F the French

Not much time to blog, but I thought I better put this link on the page. I saw it first mentioned on A Small Victory. I'm sure The VP is going to want to throw his monitor out the window when he reads it.

Is there anything remaining about the French that conjures up a positive image? Well, they do have The Dissident Frogman. That's one. Anyone come up with number two?