some recent pics

As the cameras have been buried, and the computer has been buried, and I feel like I've been buried, I haven't been able to post pictures recently. So, here are some. Enjoy.

Easter morning. There are no full pictures of S's dress. Oh, well.
The Ouisers. Typical. S and I seem way too silly to belong to M.
A particularly nice picture of Feather Nester.
L in her cutest ever cowgirl shirt.
Popsicles on the porch.
S with Scarlet Lily in the cutest picture ever taken.
S helping L with a wardrobe issue...while sitting in an empty wardrobe.

vaseline.

On Saturday...the crazy day that was M and S and the Feathernesters and the Scarlet Lilies trying to get to the zoo as I tried to get out the door to set up for the event...

S refused to sleep during naptime. No biggie. Happens all the time. However, on Saturday, between rousing renditions of the ABC's and "Jesus Loves Me," I kept hearing, "I made a big mess." Again, she yells that a lot, and it usually means that she threw all of her animals out of the crib. Not Saturday, though. Saturday, there was indeed a big mess. S got into her toiletry bag and discovered an almost full jar of Vaseline. She used the contents of said jar to coat herself, top to bottom and everywhere in between, in Vaseline. Nothing like a two-year-old coated in a little petroleum jelly. Hilarity ensued as M tried to lift the greased piggie (I mean, our daughter) out of her crib and into the bathtub...then we watched the water bead up all over her. It was a great send-off for me as I had to leave for the event right about that time.

The event was nice, too. Pictures later if you're good.

Happy Monday, folks.

with whipped cream and a cherry?

Feather Nester has been all over me (rightfully so) to post some of S's hysterical comments this week, so here goes.


The other night as we played upstairs before bedtime, M asked S what she would say to the president if she got to talk to him.

"Please," she replied...because usually when asked what to say, the answer is please or thank you.

M and I laughed, and M asked, "is there anything else that you'd say to the president?"

"Would you like some ice cream?"

Priceless, folks. I'm thinking of dropping Ol' Barack a line inviting him for ice cream the next time he's in the area.


Moving on. S has a habit of wandering around the kitchen and asking, "what should I like, mom?" Which means, "I'm hungry/bored. What can I have for a snack, or are you willing to entertain me?" The child probably asks, "what should I like?" a couple dozen times a day. On Wednesday, we were renovation refugees at my aunt Mel's house, and S wandered into the kitchen asking the inevitable question.

"I don't know, S, what would you like?"

"Ummm," she deliberated, "I would like some money."

I was unable to contain my laughter.


Lastly, yesterday, when I was getting her up from her nap, she put her feet in the air, and said, "Mommy, I have sweaters on my feet."

"What?"

"I have sweaters on my feet."

Okay. I always tell her she has stinky, sweaty feet. So, my original translation from S-language to English indicated that she didn't know the word sweaty, but she does know the word sweater. Funny, I know. However, the more I think about it, her feet looked like she'd been kicking cans and rocks at the town dump yesterday, so now I'm thinking that was her way of saying, "look, Mom. My feet are so disgustingly covered in filth that it looks like they've got sweaters on." Substantially grosser, option, but I still think it's funny.

Okay, I'm off to clean. We are a few short days from officially reclaiming our house, and all the messy stuff is over, so I can finally attack the mess. I can't tell you how exciting that it. Have a great weekend, peeps.

h-2-oh gross

Did anyone else see "Poisoned Waters" on Frontline last night? Fascinating...in a terrifying and "I pretty much already know this" kind of way. It was all about water pollution.

One of the segments last night was about commercial chicken factories, which I already knew were horrible for polluting water. Now, though, I've had to pretty much swear off chicken. I reserve the right to grill chicken occasionally, though. Sometimes a girl needs cilantro-lime chicken.

The strange thing is, I decided a few weeks ago that I really don't like chicken. I seriously couldn't tell you the last time I cooked a bird or its breasts. I have found myself avoiding recipes that call for chicken because I'm bored with it. Of course, I love the process of roasting a whole bird on a cold day, but M doesn't really like roast chicken, and I really don't like messing with the carcass when all is said and done. So, for the most part, the Ouisers don't dig on chicken. (S would disagree as she thinks processed chicken nuggets/strips are the shiz.)

Then came the real blow. Fish. The Ouisers really don't eat much meat. Usually once a week is our max, but fish is standard around here when I can find anything wild caught. I thought I was doing the best thing by not purchasing farm raised fish, and in environmental terms, I still think that is the best option. But, it turns out, I may be slowly poisoning my family. I never thought about the fact that the fish are subjected to all sorts of nasty chemical compounds because our waters are so disgustingly polluted. So, what are we supposed to eat now?

I think I'm going to have to raise some grass-fed beef and convince my granddaddy to process it for me. Maybe I'll get a few buffalo while I'm at it.

Who am I kidding? We're just going to have to be vegetarians. For the most part. Vegetarians that eat meat sometimes. Too many things to think about. Especially with all those God-forsaken jars in the other room, begging for my attention.

jarhead

This post is not about that mediocre Jake Gyllenhaal movie of the same name. Remember that movie? It had Jamie Foxx, too. I think. They were marines. I think. The only memorable thing about that movie was Jake Gyllenhaal dancing naked with a precariously perched Santa hat.

Anyway, this Saturday is the Firefly kickoff party. I'm pseudo-excited about it. I'd be more excited, though undeniably more exhausted, if I'd just agreed to run the whole thing myself. I'm a control freak, and I'm catching onto the fact that I'm not the only one involved in this process. It's a bit of a mess. However, I have decided that I am officially going to take over decor. I feel, ahem, I know I am the most qualified person to do the job, and I won't be satisfied unless I do it myself. And it's not fair for me to be so hard on people when the simple truth is that we're wired differently. Details are a big deal to me.

So, I spent awhile in my aunt Mel's basement while Feather Nester watched L and S refuse to eat their PRINCESS SPAGHETTI-O'S (I did not purchase those nasty things). I was digging out jars. Lots and lots of jars. Fifty-one jars to be precise. When my aunt bought her house, she inherited the contents of the basement. One of the best things down there was a collection of old glass jars. Lots of canning jars...but also some old peanut butter jars. Pickle jars. Jelly jars. Apparently, Mr. Jack Daniels (the honest-to-God previous owner) never met a glass jar he didn't keep. It's going to come in handy for Saturday. You see, I'm filling those suckers with candles...(remember the burning of Atlanta recreation that was my wedding reception? It will be like that. Sort of.)...I'll put some on the tables, but I'm also going to wire some and suspend them from the trees around the tent. It's supposed to be sort of like fireflies captured in a jar. Get it? Fireflies? Firefly Fine Arts Festival?

Sigh. I think it's good stuff.

I'll let you know on Sunday how it turned out. Until then, I'll be washing jars.

Later, peeps.

a day off

I know I shouldn't complain. I have no right. I've got it pretty easy. Heck, I took a 3-1/2 hour nap yesterday while S slept.

Seriously, though. I think I need a day off. I am wiped out. Anyone else feel that way? Just me? Oh.

For those of you interested, Feather Nester and I and our fabulous Relay for Life team raised a whopping 1600+ bucks Saturday for the American Cancer Society. At least if I'm going to be wiped out, I am wiped out for a cause.

31 minutes

Those of you who know me well know that I hate talking on the phone. I pretty much always have. I was the girl in middle school who didn't want her own phone line. My parents had one installed in my room, and I still can't figure out why. I think it was supposed to be some sort of status symbol that was required if I was ever going to be homecoming queen, which I wasn't so it didn't even work. Either way...

...I just spent 31 minutes and change on the phone with a seed company. Feathernester and I have had a terrible time trying to get our garden seeds here, and we're squarely in bad news bears land now because our seeds aren't started and it's mid-April. Needless to say, this is the first and last year that Seeds of Change will be getting our business. They've been giving us the run-around for a month now. Our order very clearly got lost in the mail, but they refused to admit it. I had to get all feisty with them today, though. I better have a crap ton of delicious tomatoes this year. That is the only way that I won't curse Seeds of Change for all my days. The. Only. Way.

I don't even have a garden built yet anyway, so it doesn't matter, but Feathernester has a lovely space all tilled and fenced and ready for some plants. I am frustrated. I'll go take a shower in my endless hot water.

Later, peeps.

that's not henry plainview

We watched There will be Blood last night. Um, that movie was a little strange. It left both M and I sitting on the couch with a "what the crap" look on our faces. Plus, I am still angry about the music. Something about the entire score of that movie just ticked me off. I think that was the point, but still. Ewwww.

I digress. When Henry Plainview came into the movie, I was distracted. All I could think was the following... (this is all from memory, so forgive my inevitable mistakes)

"Sammy Wayne DeSoto, what is this in my frigidaire?"

"Beer."

"I don't care what you keep in your frigidaire, but you will not keep liquor in mine." (Spoken as she walks out the screen door, opens a beer, and pours it onto the ground.)

"Oh, Annelle, for Christ's sake."

"Is that the name of our Lord that you're taking in vain?"

"That's him, that's the one."

"I think we should pray."

"Oh, I'd rather eat dirt."


I love that movie. God bless that crazy Annelle.

Anyway, things are well here...I just had the computer unwrapped because I couldn't bear to be without email. It will be rewrapped in about 30 minutes.

Until next time.