Richie Does It Again!

Miss Richie never ceases to amaze me with her talent and style. You really must go see her stunning digital letter press work. Just look at these Marc Jacobs spectators! WANT THEM!

She even did the illustrations. Wow!

Also, for you gals out there, she has been asked to consult for a therapy group for teenage girls on "loving your body" and self image. She is asking for examples of times in our teens when we felt good about ourselves to help her put together ideas and suggestions for girls who are there now. What a great project. I so wish there had been something like that available when I was feeling ugly and inferior.

If you have time and have something to share that might be helpful, just hop on over to *richiedesign*, scroll down to the entry before the LUSCIOUS letter press work and leave a comment.

Go Richie!


This was not a paid endorsement.

Happy Monday, Y'all!

Seven Weird Things

Lisa over at The Tardy Homemaker tagged me to expose Seven Weird Things about yours truly.

Now, there are way more than seven, I'm sure, but being that the rest are not weird to me I am unaware of their existence. I am including the things that are odd enough to me that I think other people would find them pretty darned weird. There are a couple of things I know most people would find really weird, but I'm not willing to share those things with the world at large so you'll just have to guess what they might be.

And now for the list fit for public consumption:

1. I would be totally fine if I never ate fish again. I only eat fish when I make it for other people and politely eat it when other people cook it. I do however, love shrimp and lobster...

2. ... I am allergic to shellfish. (Yea, it totally bums me out.)

3. My brain instantly imprints voices. If I hear a voice once on the phone I will immediately recognize it the next time that person calls and upon hearing said voice, will have all the pertinent information about that person drop into my head like opening a personnel file. Once I hear a voice, it's in my brain forever. It's not such a big deal now that I work for myself and don't come in contact with scads of people but when I was a receptionist in an advertising agency for example, my employers found it extremely helpful for heightened phone call screening abilities. It's also likely one reason why I never got promoted from the phone even though I was doing design and production work.

4. We raise cows and drink raw milk but I don't milk our cows. It's too much of a commitment to the animal and way too much work for me. It's so much nicer to drive to Yamhill, have a nice chat with Chrissie at Kookoolan Farms and pick up jars of beautiful, clean milk without having to squat 'neath a cow twice a day... EVERY... SINGLE... DAY.

5. I love tomatoes (only in season and preferably home grown), I like ketchup and tomato sauce, but I cannot stand tomato juice. It grosses me out.

6. I have eaten and throughly enjoyed wild musk ox. In fact, I have kind of an odd desire to try as many different kinds of game meats as I can. I love elk!

7. I never realized how claustrophobic I am until I was spelunking (yes, it's a real word and no, it's not dirty) a lava tube in eastern Oregon with a large group of family and friends. The cave started out big enough, like a cathedral in some spots, but it got smaller and smaller. When we were maybe 50 feet from the end it narrowed down to about three or four feet in diameter. I couldn't do it. I tried to make myself go just for the experience of touching the end of a lava tube but, heart pounding out of my chest, I broke into a cold sweat and started shaking uncontrollably. I chose instead to stay there, alone, in complete darkness. No flashlight. That was far preferable to me to getting stuck , unable to go forward or back and trapping all those people I loved inside the cave and suffocating on stale, dusty air hundreds of feet down in the bowls of the earth never again to see the sweet, clear light of day. ::trying not to hyperventilate at the mere thought!!::

Fortunately, my wonderful not-yet-husband stayed there with me in the crushing blackness until the others returned with the lights.


So there you have it. Seven more things about me to file under "proof that girl is freakin' whacked." And, as these things work, I am to pass along the pleasure to some other blog friends. I'm tagging Richie, Wendy and Cheryle.

Okay, girls, dazzle me!

Peace, Y'all.

Another One Biteth the Dutht

Grathe would like me to inform you all that she lotht her thecond front tooth.

She'th very proud of herthelf.

Thankth a lot and have a thuper Thunday!

Thianara, Y'all!

Confessions of a Scatterbrain

Have you ever seen toes in more dire need of a pedicure?

This is the same polish I painstakingly applied on a luscious, leisurely afternoon... Christmas Day...

It would take me literally about five minutes to drag out the nail polish remover and at least have clean toes in place of scruffy remnants of "I'm Really Not A Waitress" red, which would be an improvement, right? But I feel almost naked without polish on my toes and I can't seem to bring myself to part with the red until I have time to properly apply a fresh coat... and that would take, what, probably fifteen or even TWENTY minutes! That's an eternity! Right?

It seems like the smallest tasks go undone because I "just don't have time for that right now." Or "I'll get to it later because it will only take a minute" then whatever it is never happens because it was such a minuscule job I never made it a priority. In the worst cases, I may end up paying late fees or rushing around to make a deadline (not with my work, mind you) and spending more time or money than I would have if I had taken those five minutes right off the bat.

I am the world's worst at keeping baby books up to date... especially since Grace arrived... FIVE and a half years ago! At this point I'll be lucky to remember anything pertinent to record in it and get it done prior to giving it to her as a wedding present.

I have piles and stacks of pictures to go into albums all stuffed into the credenza in our entry hall just waiting for my attention.

When it comes to kid birthday parties, I am a total flop. My sister-in-law, Dawn, is the world's most intimidating party planner. She makes kid parties so fun and exciting adults crash 'em. I, on the other hand, am doing well if I remember the occasion far enough in advance to actually MAIL invitations rather than calling everyone a day or two before and make up a totally bogus theme on the spot. "Yes, this year she's having a take-and-bake pizza themed party! Come dressed as your favorite topping!"

I'm so lame.

I have 32 pounds of honey in a bucket in my kitchen waiting to go into smaller, more manageable containers. It's been there since early January.

Sometimes it's just because I forget.

Other times, I start to do something and get distracted by something else that needs doing or "Oooooooo, look! Something shiny!"

I have to write a shopping list even if all I'm picking up is apples, cheese and Valium. Once I get inside the store, my memory is toast.

I'm trying to improve, though. Trying to turn over a new TREE.

I'm just trying.

Ask my husband.

My big accomplishment this week was getting Anna and Grace's school pictures in their frames on the mantle. The pictures I've had since, oh, I don't know... NOVEMBER...

Yea, me.

Ya gotta celebrate the little victories, Y'all.

No... WAY!!!

Way.



Oh... MAN! What I wouldn't give to go to this concert.

Even IF I could talk the hubby into paying probably 50 bucks a head and driving all the way to Washington for a concert, though... this one just so happens to land squarely on Anna's 10th birthday... and we WON'T be missing that.

*sigh*

Ahhh, Sting. So close and yet so far...

Guess I'll just have to go crank "Nothing Like the Sun" and the rest of my Sting and Police CDs and engage my very fertile imagination.

D' Doo Doo Doo, D' Da Da Da, Y'all.

Make your mouth happy

As many of you know, I don't use commercial toothpaste, but make my own sea salt and baking soda concoction. I've never published the recipe, but rather just included a link to one in a previous post. Well, that link is dead now (sorry Lisa) so, for those who have expressed interest, what follows is the highly-complicated recipe for making your own tooth powder, sans all the unnecessary chemicals, artificial colors and, for some of us, mood-altering CRAP that has no good reason to be anywhere near your mouth:

Clean and Simple Tooth Powder

Find yourself a nice little jar that makes you happy just to look at it at least twice a day. (In the absence of The Perfect Jar however, a zip lock baggie will do just fine.)

Inside your chosen vessel place:

3 Tablespoons Baking Soda

1 Tablespoon Sea Salt (Table salt is poison. Use good, organic sea salt.)

Stir thoroughly.

You're done.

Just get your tooth brush a little damp, dip it into the powder, knock off the excess and you're good to go!

If you desire a mintier experience, you can add a few drops of peppermint oil to the powder and stir it in well. If you do this, you'll want to keep the lid firmly on the jar so the peppermint oil doesn't evaporate and leave you with plain ol' salt and soda, once again.

Do this favor for your teeth and your whole body will thank you!

Happy Brushing, Y'all!

Waiting for the cow to pop

This is one of those post-counseling, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, the-bread-goes-inside-the-bag kind of days... you know... just enough motivation to get out of my jammies and straight into sweat pants. Screw the make up. I have managed to feign just a little productivity, though, so I've got that going for me. Well, that and a great (long) phone call with Miss Wendy... Thanks, Love! You so totally rock! ;)

Now, on to the NEWS at hand...

Bossy the Beautiful Bovine is due to have her next calf on or about Wednesday the 13th! She looks like she's about to pop any second based on her, um, symptoms... I swear, her udder is so full it makes my breasts hurt just remembering what it feels like when your body is getting ready to be the sole source of food for a growing little body... GAH! Been there, DONE WITH that...

Her last calf had a very sad ending and we are so ready for a healthy, bouncy little black and white baby. I'm glad to see Bossy looks like she's ready and able to welcome her fuzzy little bundle of joy. Ahhhh... babies...

Still, though, better her than ME!

I'm very contented with the fact that my babies are old enough to reach the bunny crackers and juice boxes on their own without the need for me to excrete anything from my person, thank you very much. :)

Stay tuned for pics and play-by-play upon the bouncing baby bovine's arrival!

Peace in the pasture, Y'all.

Why I watch the Super Bowl

I'm sure it won't come as a showck when I say that I watch the Super Bowl for two reasons:

1) To see if any of the advertisers can come up with anything that remotely impresses me for their paltry $2.6 MILLION per 30 second spot.

2) My sister-in-law, Betsy's, layer dip and Fritos. It is a guilty pleasure I reserve for very special occasions. I may hate myself later but, YUM!

Okay. So there were a f-e-w spots that got my attention, kinda, but most were pretty dismal. Though, I must say the CareerBuilder.com ads were disturbingly memorable in their graphic depiction of hopelessness and futility... I liked them in a creepy/cool kinda way.

My favorites, however, I display below:

The E*Trade Baby made the whole extravaganza for me. The ads were so good, in fact, there's already a parody, which follows.











An honorable mention, as a sentimental favorite... the Coke balloon ad. I DO NOT endorse using Coke products, or any other High-Fructose-Corn-Syrup-Laden Swill sold as soda, but CHARLIE BROWN FINALLY WINS!! And for that, I post this commercial.

Coca Cola Super BOwl Commercial: Parade Balloon




Oh, and the ad for AMP energy drink with the sweaty fat guy that jumps a car "the hard way"...
::shivver:: I'm still queezy after that one.

I understand the game was pretty good, too. Underdog win and all. All hail the Lesser Manning Brother!

Peace, Y'all!