what a picture is worth

I'm packing it up and heading north for the weekend. I know, heading north! Whoever heard of such insanity? Scarlet Lily's last night of debauchery (aka her bachelorette party) is Saturday night in New York, so Feather Nester and I are flying out in the morning for a weekend of babylessness that I can barely even wrap my brain around. So, I'm out for a few days.

I thought I'd leave you some pictures of S to enjoy. Pictures are really all you need to get a pretty accurate idea of what life is like around here these days.

Happy weekending, peeps. Keep your eyes on the gossip columns this weekend. You never know, I might run into Clooney...

Picking flowers or pulling weeds? You decide.

Guess who really likes chocolate chip cookies?

The stew clearly needed carrots.

S would totally fail her health inspection. Totally.

no fly zone

It was 5:45 this morning when M came into the bedroom with the news.

"I'm pretty sure there's a bird in the backyard. I could barely get Otis to come in. I think it's still alive, but it's dark, and I can't find it."

Awesome. Really, really awesome. Happy Monday. What is the deal? Is all of our green-ness luring birds to us to die? I mean, are they all flying around in the sky, thinking, "the P family doesn't use chemicals on their lawn, I want to go on to seriously greener pastures??" Why are none of you reassuring me that there are dead birds in your yards half a dozen times a year? I very sincerely doubt that Otis is such a stealth hunter that he's actually snagging all these poor things.

Just the same, at 6:30, I was outside, traipsing around in the cold, wet grass looking for a possibly still-alive bird. And I found it. Of course I found it. It wouldn't be my life if I hadn't found it. So, it was still breathing, though it was no longer flailing about, so Ouiser the farm girl had to make a reappearance. Luckily, I had a shovel handy this time to smack it with. (Gross, I know.) Then I bagged the sucker up and threw it in the garbage. All in all, it was about a four minute gig. I'm getting a smidge too efficient at this. It's alarming.

Beyond the apparent avian flu that hovers over our family, things are going well here. We're still working on getting settled in, but it's getting better. S is loving the warm weather. Loving it. She wants to be outside every second that she's awake. We bought her a sand table, which we finally filled yesterday, and she loved it...though she did eat a lot of sand. She thinks that shovels are spoons, and I think she was really, really confused. It was fun, though. And much to M's chagrin, she has decided that it's super fun to blow dandelions.

Okay, she's waking up. I'm out, peeps.

riders on the storm

Remember that one time when Val Kilmer was hot? You know the time. The time he starred in The Doors. Anyway...

The storm.

We had some lovely thunderstorms tear through last night. I slept like a baby. My baby slept like a baby. M got up at one point to watch the Weather Channel. As Feathernester and I had planned a trip to the Nashville Farmer's Market for this morning, I was not happy when I awoke to steadily falling rain. Alas, the skies had cleared by the time I got out of the shower, and I checked the radar...all looked good. Clearly, the radar map was zoomed in too close to Dickson. We'd been at the farmer's market about 15 minutes, drooling over plants for our gardens, when I got a text message. I don't get a lot of those, so I was curious. It was from M.

"R U 2 safe," was the message. Okay, we are not 15. We rarely use abbreviations in our few and far between text messages. We're old school. Or at least we're old. In normal situations, the message would've read, "are you two safe? i love you."

"What's going on?" I thought to myself as I dialed M. Apparently, tornadoes were touching down in Dickson County and he was afraid we were sitting under piles of rubble. Luckily, we weren't even around for it. At that point, I did notice some pretty ominous clouds looming nearby, so we were forced to cut our little field trip short. Oh, well. All the Ouisers and Feathernesters are safe and sound...and we are now enjoying some really gorgeous weather. 65 degrees and sunny. Really, really lovely. It would be better without the mud, but I'll take what I can get.

Alright, I've got to go dig my plants out of my car. Have a great weekend, peeps.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY:
Sight: S asleep in the backseat
Sound: "please" from S as she begged for orange juice
Smell: dirt
Touch: S tickling my belly
Taste: breakfast cookies and the fries that Feathernester had at lunch

a hot shower

Is a hot shower too much to ask? Is moving into a house you love, near people you love, in a state that you love too much "good?" Does having all that move you into the "you've got too much good going on to deserve anything else" category? It must. We've lived in shower-hell for three and a half weeks now. I think I mentioned when we first moved in we couldn't use the master shower because the faucet wouldn't work. Then the water heater didn't work properly. And the upstairs shower was apparently made for people without elbows as people with elbows can't possibly bend them to wash their hair without hitting the walls (seriously, showers in RVs are bigger than our upstairs shower). Then we realized that the downstairs shower didn't drain properly so that using it meant that you were constantly standing in an inch of water that you had to attempt to squeegee out when you were done lest you breed mosquitoes in the bathroom. That was weeks ago. Last week, we finally got the tile people to come out to fix the shower bottom...you know, eliminate that pesky standing water-malaria spreading issue. They found that the original tile moron (because he doesn't deserve the title tile "guy") put a screw through one of our pipes, which clearly had to be fixed. Oh, and the water heater crapped out again. Turns out the water heater was hooked up incorrectly. So, the pipe had to be fixed anyway. Upon fixing it, they realized that one of the fittings under the house was wrong. We had no water for six hours last Tuesday. At least I think it was Tuesday. Soooo- the tile situation sat on the backburner that day, and the retiling of the shower lasted through the weekend meaning we were relegated to taking showers in the little people shower. Then the water heater crapped out again. When they came to fix it yesterday, they found another leak under the house, which meant no water for eight hours while they waited on a plumber. While waiting on the plumber, however, they did reattach the shower door, which I did appreciate...even though they lost some of the screws and they have to come fix it because it won't seal properly as it is.

Okay, are you lost yet? Are you running to your bathrooms to thank your shower for always working? Are you thanking your water heater, too? You should.

I was so happy to be back in a warm, draining, full-sized-human shower last night, even though I continually had to turn around and re-shut the door, that I stayed in there for 20 minutes. Environment, be damned. As the shower I had yesterday morning at the gym had been my best shower to date in Tennessee, last night's shower was almost like having died and gone to heaven. Or like having died and come back as George Clooney's pillow. It was great.

Of course, M had a cold-ish shower this morning, so I'm not sure our water heater woes are entirely behind us. It's completely insane...that's not even the end of the list of the plumbing issues. The tiny shower has a leak. The bathtub blew out it's washer and has to have the water cut off unless we're filling the tub. The dishwasher doesn't get anything clean. We're getting there, though. And I still love this house. I love it. I keep having these visions of how great everything will be when everything is done. Oh, I just can't wait.

I hope you're all having a fantastic Thursday. I'm off to put some geraniums into pots before they blow off the front porch in their little plastic tubs. I had planned to re-pot them yesterday, but I didn't have water, remember? It's amazing how many things you can't do without water. Amazing. I don't recommend trying it.

I'm out, peeps.

go. tigers. go.

I fully intend to blog "for real" at some point today. However, life seems to get in the way a lot lately, and I just have to say this one thing before that happens...

GO TIGERS.

My Memphis Tigers are playing for all the marbles. And they aren't playing North Carolina. I am so excited that it's silly. As we watched them play UCLA Saturday night, we sang the fight song so many times that I think S would be more likely to bust out singing, "Go Tigers Go. Go on to victory..." than she would be to sing, "A B C D E F G." While I realize that's not really something to be proud of, it is funny.

Anyway, we'll be pulling for the Tigers with all our might, and as I don't think I know anyone who is a Kansas fan, I'm counting on all of you to pull for them, too...and send them all of your positive energy. (Scarlet Lily, I know that I showed you how to do that!)

Go Tigers. I have to go get the girl.

we'll just see where it goes

I've had lots of posts running through my head the past few days. I just haven't had an opportunity to get to the computer, so who knows what will come out in this post. I'll just start and see where we end up, which is not my style at all for those of you who know me well enough to realize that I always need a plan. Anyway, here we go.

M is out of town for the second week in a row. I finally took advantage of that and made a recipe that I've been clinging to for over a year now. Broccoli with Black Beans and Garlic. Holy easy, and holy yum all at the same time. I served it over brown rice, and I'll gladly email the recipe to anyone who is interested. You can also add red peppers to the mix, but they aren't in season, and all the ones at the store demonstrated that fact quite forcefully.

Speaking of things being in season...I've been reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. It's really, really good so far. My friend P (you know, the Mosaic guy) gave it to me as a going away gift when we left Kentucky. It isn't really helping my crazy urge to start digging up my yard and filling it with vegetable plants, but that's okay with me. Anyway, it's about a family that moved to a farm in an effort to eat locally. I know you've all read of other people doing the same. It's amazing to me that they are just able to say, "sorry, no fruit until June" (or whenever) to their kids because they can't find it in their county. They are forced to eat only items that are in season because, let's face it, red peppers don't grow in Appalachia in March. It's a really good book, and it makes me think a little harder about the giant container of baby spinach in my fridge. The one that had to be trucked in from California. The upside to the baby spinach problem is that I should be able to get it fairly soon at the farmer's market here, and I'm already wondering if it's too late for me to get some into the ground on my own. I guess we'll see. Gardening is the one activity in my life (besides motherhood) that I go into knowing that I'll have to learn as I go. Plans be damned.

I know that I already make conscious decisions about trying to eat in season. I refused to let S try peaches last summer until the good ones came in. Why get her started on less than the best, right? I also refuse to let her try strawberries until good ones arrive. (Scarlet Lily, the ones I eagerly scooped up at the farmer's market the other day did not fit that bill. Most were ruined by the time I got home!) I understand seasonality with most produce. It explains why I start dreaming of cherries in late April and early May. I am one seriously happy girl when they finally start showing up in June. Seriously. Happy. It explains why my family eats apples in everything in the fall. Somehow, though, seasonality seems to only apply to fruits with us. I mean, am I only supposed to eat salads in the transitional months when I could grow it myself? I guess so. It's a hard pill to swallow, and I somehow doubt that the P family will be going totally local ever. Besides, I dare you to try to deny my daughter her morning banana. I dare you. Stick your tongue to a flagpole dare you.

Enough about that. The stream of thoughts is woefully incomplete.

Besides, it's more important to let you all know that S is getting her one-year molars, and it is not a fun experience. For any of you out there with the this lovely milestone ahead, keep the Tylenol handy. It's just pitiful. Send my girl lots of happy, popsicle-filled thoughts. She needs them right now. One came through yesterday, and as she was actually able to sleep most of the night last night, and I am thinking that maybe, mercifully, the second popped through as well. Fingers crossed.

Alright, I am off. This post is as ridiculously random as I feared it would be. That's all I've got for now, though.

Happy Hump Day, peeps.

getting there

Slowly. Slowly, but surely our house is looking like a house that people live in. I would take some pictures to post, but it's seriously cloudy today, and I want the bright sunshine to help make the house look better in photos. Right now, I need all the help I can get. Maybe with enough sunshine you won't notice the dust bunnies.

Speaking of bunnies, here are a few pictures from Easter. S was doing her very best to make sure we didn't get any good photos, so you'll have to take what you can get.

I hope everyone is having a great week, and I promise to be up and running again soon. Oh, and the Wii is wicked awesome. All of you, go out and get one. Now. Seriously.

she wears short shorts

S has been at my dad's house since yesterday morning. This is the outfit I sent her out in. I realize that she looks like the Crayola factory exploded on her, but I thought she was so cute that I couldn't stop giggling. I'm also including a picture of the concrete truck doing its thing the other day. I thought there might be someone at ToddlerTamer's or MoWask's house that might like that.
Happy Friday, peeps.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: my clean floors
Sound: silence. Otis has been barking a lot.
Smell: coffee, Method Wood for Good floor cleaner
Touch: Moon bounce...I'll explain later
Taste: grilled steak nachos

holy boxes, batman.

So, we're here. Correction: Wii're here. (Meaning we've moved in and acquired a Wii thanks to G!!)

Everything is still a bit of a disaster. We're having all sorts of trouble with the showers, but I'm hoping it's all sorted out by this afternoon. Just know that you should never take hot showers for granted. While I don't think I ever have, I assure you I won't now. Our new driveway was poured on Tuesday, and we keep admiring it from the window. We aren't supposed to drive on it until next Tuesday. Our storage shed will be started tomorrow, and that will be great as we can get all the garage/storage boxes out of the guest room and out of Feathernester's garage. Once that's done, it will seem a lot more like home. I'm not good at living in messiness. I get panicky, and M can attest to the fact that I've been in a wad for about a week now. My kitchen is pretty well put together, though, and that helps. I've even been able to make dinner a few times...though nothing fancy or interesting.

We've also got to figure out the TV situation...we had these great, huge built-ins in the Lexington house, which means we have nowhere to put our TV in the living room here. Right now, our end tables are pushed together and covered with a red gingham sheet, proudly holding up the behemoth boob tube. Our dilemma in finding a suitable TV-holding solution is that we didn't get a flat-panel TV and now we can't find anything big enough to hold the sucker...or strong enough to support the weight. Plus, we have to keep the components away from the munchkin, who likes to push any and all buttons. We've thought about having built-ins done again, but I'm going to check out a furniture store tomorrow before we make any decisions. Unfortunately, we don't really have forever to make this decision as everything else in the family room is on hold until we get this figured out. I guess I'm doing alright if that's my biggest problem, eh?

Anyway, the girl is waking up, and I'm about to cart her to Columbia to spend a couple of days at my dad's. This will be the second time she's spent the night away from us since we got here. Poor kid thinks we're abandoning her. I just want everything to get put away and be safe for her and Otis, and I can't do that with both of them under my feet all the livelong day.

I'm out, peeps. Happy Thursday...and GO TIGERS...I've picked them to win it all!!

going home

The movers will be at our house in a matter of hours. Tonight is our last night in this house. Our first house. S's first home. While I'm sad to leave my little house and all of our friends here, I am so excited to move into our new house and be with our family in Tennessee. S is excited about living near her BFF. So is her daddy. It's going to be a Ouiser-Feathernester party every day. God help our livers.

Anyway, we'll be packing up the computer in a bit, so it's so long from Kentucky. We'll be back in the motherland very, very soon.

I'll leave you with a picture of the littlest hippie in the family. She looks so stinkin' cute today that I just want to keep squeezing her. If she just had enough hair for dreads...and we were the type of people who forgo washing hair in favor of growing dreads...she'd be the perfect hippie baby. I tried to get a shot of her with Otis, who is rocking his Grateful Dead collar, so I could show off my hippie dog, too, but I can't get the two of them near each other and even remotely still. Oh, well. Otis looks like an old stoner anyway...even without the collar.

I'm out, peeps. See you on the flip side.

nothing interesting

Don't ask me why I'm looking at skirts online when I should be playing with my daughter. I don't have a legitimate answer, and I'm not even sitting at the computer...I'm leaning ever-so-uncomfortably over the desk chair. Despite the noticeable discomfort, I'm leaning here, pining over this skirt. Pining. I'm trying to decide if trying to make it would be worth it...or if I'd just get irritated. Maybe it's time to learn to put in zippers.

35 rolls and who are you, anyway?

M wanted me to let you all know that he found 35 rolls of pennies under the bed. That's 1,750 more pennies, plus another glass we found. So, while not likely at 20,000, we're closer. M felt it important that you all know that as he fears he'll be judged by his inability to cash in 20,000 pennies. Something like that. Also, you may be asking yourself why there was a container of 35 rolls of pennies under our bed. I asked the same question. M says he could start chucking them at any would-be burglars. Assuming he remembered they were there, which he didn't because I assure you he'd rather not go back to the little teller girl at the bank with more coins. She already thinks he's lost it. Moving on...

S and Otis are chasing each other right now. I'm a little distracted. It's pretty funny. Where's the camcorder when you need it?

So, who are you? Are you really yourself? If you're some mysterious Ouiser-reader that I've never met and I suddenly met you, would I meet the "real" you? Honestly? M and I had this conversation the other day. I had commented that I wish I could really just be myself all the time. Unapologetically, unabashedly myself. All the time. But, I can't. Or maybe I just won't. Instead, there's "first impression Ouiser" and "real, honest-to-goodness, you've probably already decided that you like me or you don't Ouiser." Does that make sense? I'm always afraid of stepping on someone's toes or offending them. I'm worried that people won't like me because I make some off the cuff comment about George Bush or the war in Iraq or the fact that the country is in the toilet because of the two aforementioned problems. So, I tend to keep most of my beliefs and opinions to myself until I've gotten to know someone. Really it's worked out quite well for me. Morton Mama is one of my best friends, and she's such a goofy republican that we'd likely never have been friends if we'd both gone all-out when we first met. Also, all of my friends at my old office (except dear A) are right-wingers. (Some day you'll realize that you are all misguided. Ha.) I like to give people time to get to know me and love me, then I start hitting them with the fact that I'm a tree-hugging hippie. (Though I do not define hippies as being people who stink of patchouli, smoke copious amounts of weed, or skip bathing. Yuck on all accounts.) Instead, I let them all make fun of me for being a tree hugger, and I slowly infiltrate. For example, K pointed out her recycling bin in the pantry last week, and the non-liberal A told me that she bought reusable grocery bags. Baby steps.

Of course, sometimes you know that people think just like you from the beginning, and you can start ripping on the president as soon as you meet. That's always fun. Even then, though, you run the risk of taking it one step (or one glass of wine) too far and alienating your would-be new BFFs. So, I go through life pretty much constantly holding back because when I don't I end up with one of my crazy hippie shoes squarely lodged in my mouth. The thing is, I'm not really afraid for people to not like me. It happens. I'm not losing any sleep over it. My fear is that people who would like me, don't give it a shot because of some remark I made, and then I've lost what could've been a friend. Again, am I making any sense here?? I realize that the opposite is true. I know that I've judged people on comments they've made and sworn I could never be around them. I know I've done it. But, I found out pretty quickly what a hotbed of republican love my old office was, and I didn't run screaming from anyone.

Anyway, I'm rambling. There is no great question or revelation from this stream of thought. None. I know that I won't change. I'll still keep my "nice to meet you" face on when I encounter new people. And I'll still use my chipper phone voice even when I'm mad or sad. I'll still do all of those things because it's what you do, right? It's part of living in society. The great trade-off for not being a hermit?? You decide.

I'm out. Super Why is coming on, and I've got a baby to rock out with.

17,047

"What on earth?" you ask.

17,047 pennies. That's what I'm talking about. As I refused to pay someone to move the eight thousand pounds of pennies in our garage, the ones that M had been collecting since he was a zygote, we decided that we had to take them to the bank before we move. So, we (mostly M) spent the past couple of weeks sorting through buckets of pennies, removing the wheat pennies and the super old pennies and the foreign pennies (or whatever they're called in the foreign countries from whence they came). M loaded them up on Wednesday and took them to the bank. He was promptly laughed at for having such an egregious amount of pennies, but he filled out a deposit slip, handed over the fifteen bags and walked away from 31 years of pennies.

The deposit just went through last night, and the final count is 17,047. Plus the glass of pennies that we still have in the living room, full of all those pennies that were just too good to let go of. If we added in the glass of pennies and the foreign pennies, I still don't think we would've made it to the 20,000 mark, and I think M was really hoping for that. Alas, it's $170.47 going into S's Colgate fund. So, that'll buy her one textbook. One down, a boatload to go...and tuition...and room and board...and a bunch of North Face crap. We're going to have to have more than pennies. Can we exchange the $170.47 for euros now??

Have a great Saturday, peeps. M's off to shovel the driveway (um, it's March and there are four inches of snow outside with more to come, what the bejesus?), and I'm going to make the banana cupcakes recommended by MoWask last week. I've got to use up all those frozen bananas I've been hoarding.

it's raining, it's pouring

I. Am. Super. Excited.

I just ordered a rain barrel. While I want two, we thought it best to order one and make sure it goes well before we get a second one. Besides, one might do the trick. I found barrels that were really affordable...with free shipping...here. I can't tell you how excited I am. I'm guessing you know, though, since I've been whining about it for months. Anyway, I'm happy.

We've also picked out a rug for the living room at the new house, but I won't order it until Monday. I've been filling up my aunt's house with shipments of window treatments, and I think she may shoot me if I have an 8x11 rug sent to her house. As the rug could arrive in as little as 5 days, I want to wait and make sure that it can be safely shipped directly to our house. M and I both love the rug, but it puts a super huge kink in my decorating plans. I had planned to build the whole room around my beloved throw pillows and the upholstery on two chairs of M's mom's that I love. Overall, it would be a sort of green and cranberry color scheme (mostly green). Unfortunately, our couch is a little greener than we realized, and it looks horrible against the greens I've tried it against for the window treatments. Plus, we couldn't agree on a rug that would work with that plan. So, new plan. We'll get the rug, then we'll do ivory drapes, and I'll get new pillows. I'll just move the super great throw pillows from the living room into the bonus room upstairs. Problem solved. Now I just have to find the pillows...and figure out the window treatments, so that I can get something that will coordinate for the dining room. So many completely superfluous issues, so little time. Here's the rug that we've picked...which is "eco-friendly"...whatever that means to this company.I'm off, peeps. S and I have a lunch date later, and I need to get things ready to go. Have a great weekend.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: "bungalow blue" in our new bedroom
Sound: S laughing at her echo in the bathroom
Touch: S handshakes
Taste: chocolate chips by the handful
Smell: Origins Smoothing Souffle

i'd rather be beaten

I love being a mom. Love it. Even when I'm annoyed and ready to pull my hair out, I love it. Let's start this post by saying that.

I just saw a picture of someone who was hugely pregnant. And, as I looked at it, I just thought, "I'd rather be beaten than be pregnant again." Everyone says that soon enough, I'll forget how much I disliked being preggers, (I am in awe of those people who enjoy pregnancy...God bless you.) and my love for cuddly babies will make me jump on the "let's have another kiddo" bandwagon. I can say unequivocally that I am nowhere near that point. Nowhere. Not the same ballpark. Not the same continent. Not the same galaxy.

I'm catching a lot of flack from most of my family because I really think I want just the one baby. I know, I know. I felt the collective gasp as you all read that statement. How often do you hear about anyone only wanting one kid? I'm supposed to have 2.5, right? Just like everyone else. I just don't think it's for me. I really don't. Someone once said to me, "Do you feel like the three of you are the Ps? Or do you feel like there is something missing?" I don't feel like we're missing anything (except those darn rain barrels). I feel like this is my family, and I am super happy with my little family. Don't fix it if it ain't broke, right?

I think if we were to decide that the P family needed to expand, I'd like to adopt. For me, I would rather take a child that needs a lot of love and a good home and give him those things than to have another baby, leaving some child somewhere without those things. There's a part of me that feels guilty that I didn't go that route already. It's a very small part because I am in love with every part of my daughter. Even her stinky toes. But, still, I feel like a hypocrite. And all of this is just speculation because I don't want the P family to expand at all. Not even a goldfish. Anyway, for now, I plan to do my part for the planet through population control. It's something.
This is a ridiculous post. And likely TMI. I'm out. I've got boxes to pack.

just a shade under a terabyte

M is a supergeek. Super. Geek. And I love him for it. We're looking for an internal hard drive to store music on, and M asked if I thought we needed the 750 GB deal he found on NewEgg.

"It's just a shade under a terabyte, " he beamed.

Wow. That's a lot of nerdiness for 8am. A lot.

Happy Saturday, peeps. I'm off to less nerd-a-licious pursuits.

here's an idea

How about all those crazy-rich celebrities and athletes stop buying hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of gifts for each other...and start donating that money to more worthwhile causes? Like kids who need shoes or mosquito nets. Or maybe schools or inner-city clinics that need supplies. Or the planet that needs more trees, cleaner air and water (support a kid who wants to be a scientist and solve these problems but can't afford to). Or, hey, what about the great "elect Barack Obama" fund? Any one of these sounds more appealing than some of the crap I've read recently. To explain this little rant, I will have to admit that I look at People.com every single day. It's one of the things that I loathe most about myself, but I just have to check the headlines. It's a habit. Anyway, I guess Chris Brown (some 18-year-old who is famous for doing God knows what) and Rihanna (the Umbrella chick) are dating. For her birthday, he bought her 100,000 bucks worth of jewelry. Um, she's 20. He's 18. Aren't they supposed to be making mix tapes and giving each other sweaters from American Eagle or something? Hilary Duff's boyfriend (some hockey player) bought her a Maserati or some equally ridiculous sports car for her birthday. It's insane.

I'm not saying that they shouldn't be allowed to spend their money however they please. They have the right to buy whatever they want...just like I can't stop someone who's on food stamps from buying a PSP or some other toy. (I guess the great chasm between the super-rich and the poor, heck, the gap between the rich and the normal, is the real issue.) What I'm saying is that this is ridiculous. It's so ridiculous that it's ridonkulous. I think it's great that a whole boatload of celebrities gave a million dollars each to Hurricane Katrina relief. That's great. But when you make 15 million dollars for a movie, one million doesn't really sound so generous. I know that's not entirely fair. But, really, life isn't fair. The people who lost everything they had...that wasn't fair either. I really can't think of a lot of situations in life that qualify as fair. It's just reality.

Anyway, I don't even know why I'm complaining about this because there are a lot of celebrities that do a lot of great things that they don't have to do. There are good people who do good things all around the world. There are just a lot of immature, selfish, attention hogs out there, too. And they make me puke. I'm done. I'm going to steam some carrots for the munchkin.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY:

Sight: the forecast that says it will be 60 degrees Sunday
Sound: "Rami, you're in."
Smell: onions and peppers hitting a hot pan
Touch: S snuggles
Taste: hot chocolate, havarti and apples

another ringing endorsement

Looks like Senator Obama has gotten another endorsement. Forget endorsements from big political figures, we're going for the real deal now. Greg Oden says Barack is his man. Oddly enough, that probably means a lot more to a lot of young voters than Ted Kennedy's or John Kerry's endorsements.

Know what? I'll take it. Bring on the celebrity endorsements. Do I qualify as a celebrity? I have something like ten loyal readers. I say it counts, and I hereby announce my official endorsement of Senator Barack Obama for president. Now it's nice and official.

green day

Not Green Day- green day. Not like Dookie or American Idiot Green Day. Just a green day. For blogging at least. I suppose it really hasn't been that green of a day around here. However, I wanted to give a little update on the greening of the P household.

We're waiting until we move to order the electric mower as we don't want to pay to move it, and we don't want to bother anyone with the delivery of a big electric mower in a box. But, that one is squarely on the agenda. We've also found solar lights like we wanted for our driveway and our storage shed...if only we had a driveway and a storage shed. Those are right at the top of the to-do list, too. We'll likely be going with this motion light set-up for the driveway, and M found this for the storage shed. We are super excited about both. I'm also ordering thermal-backed drapes for our bedroom as I expect it will be pretty chilly in there. The master bedroom is downstairs, and the bed will be sitting next to two pretty sizable windows. Hopefully, the thermal drapes will keep us from jacking up the heat. I also had a ceiling fan put in to move the warm air around...and we'll have to get a rug, but that one will wait until next year. We've also had the downstairs painted, and we were able to use no-VOC paint, and we were shocked to learn that the paint only added 70 bucks to the entire bill. Not bad, huh? I can't wait to see the newly painted walls. We've also got great plans to take out the water-hogging, mower-requiring front lawn, but I somehow doubt that major landscaping is in the budget for this spring. We will, however, be putting in a garden and compost bin ASAP, and we'll get a clothesline in pretty soon, too. Hopefully, I'll get some rain barrels before summertime rolls in. I just need to bite the bullet and order some, because really? Do I really see myself running all over creation looking for someone to donate barrels to me...and then rigging up the whole thing? Probably not. I'll keep you updated on that one. I know that anticipation is killing you.

Okay, I've got things to do. I'm out, peeps. Have a great hump day. Here's a lovely picture for you to make you think of warmer spring days...instead of the crappy, ice and snow-filled cold waiting outside right now.

Image from Seaside Landscaping.

how much junk is in that trunk?

Has anyone else watched Carson Kressley's new show How to Look Good Naked? While I originally took it as pseudo-rip off of my man Tim Gunn's show, I have been converted. I am a believer. While I could never go on a show like that because I could never, ever explain to my granddaddy why I was in my underwear (or naked) on television...that's even if I wanted to plaster my panty-clad butt on television, which I don't...there is one really remarkable thing that they do on this show. And it has nothing to do with naked photo shoots. It has to do with perception. Perception of your own body.

An explanation. Let's say you're on the show, and the thing you hate most about your body is your big butt. They measure your butt. Then they prance a bunch of women out in front of you in their undies and ask you to place yourself between the two women who you think your butt would fit between...you know, less junk in the trunk to the left, more junk in the trunk to your right...it's really a pretty cool thing. Everyone ends up putting themselves between much bigger women than they are. It just shows how hard it is to be objective about your own body. I'd heard of this before...I know that photography is used in therapy for a lot of women with eating disorders. If they see their bodies without their faces, they usually don't recognize themselves, and they can see how thin they really are.

I'd be really interested to see how my own body stacks up, and I think it would be awesome if they could put pictures of lots of women on their website, with their measurements, so real women can get on there and see what they're "up against." It would be nice to see. I do, however, realize that what I'm suggesting could be seen as borderline porn. A whole website with nothing but pictures of girls in their underwear. Maybe not such a good idea in practice. You know, just one of those "good in theory" things.