No, seriously, stop what you're doing (eh.. sort of) and go to this website. It's a bit of an addictive read, but hugely entertaining!
UPDATE!!
ok, try this link instead... http://www.christandpopculture.com/asides/stuff-christians-like/
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Movin' on up!
I just wanted to let everyone know that I actually made my own basil pesto tonight! I made it with shrimp and rice, and it was STUPENDOUS! I also wanted to let everyone know that I think it's very unpleasant to stand over a sink for two hours deshelling and deveining shrimp... but the outcome is the most important part...meh. Uh, I think that's all I got for right now...
So, I was attacked by ninjas today...
So, I was attacked by ninjas today...
No Gobble Gobble For Us.
So, as you've seen from the recent pictures I've sent, Chad has become quite the Robin Hood; shooting arrows into the backs of other arrows and whatnot. You also may know by now that he intends to be a hunter. He wants to shoot deer in our back yard and feed his family. The arrangement goes something like this:
-Chad will shoot a deer and take care of the butcher arrangements (I imagine he will hire someone for this)
-I will cook, and try not to think about that sweet bambi face. I have made it quite clear that I want to see nothing until it is wrapped in paper or plastic. This is one of very few "princess complexes" that I possess
Well, this past week he got his chance at a practice shot. He came home for lunch, had a quick cat nap, woke up, kissed me goodbye, walked out the door, walked back in the door, and whispered sweetly in my ear, "There is a turkey pecking at the bumper of my truck." I got up, looked, and sure enough, there it was, pecking away. I think it saw its reflection in the chrome and was getting a little hostile at his identity theft. A moment later Chad saw another one at the end of our cul-de-sac.
My first thought was, "Wow, what are wild turkeys doing in our front yard?!" My second thought, (which was spoken out loud) was , "KILL IT!" I mean, I wanted me some turkey. So, being the wonderful husband Chad is, he started making a decision between his pistol and the bow and arrow. The pistol? In city limits? With our neighbors very close across the street from us? Yeah, he went with the bow.
So, he stepped out into the street so as to have a better shot at the thing. Aim, fire... all I saw were wings flapping, feathers going everywhere, and then Chad shaking his head. I stepped out of the house. After surmising the meaning of my quizzical gaze, he said, "the arrow bounced off the turkey."
I still have no idea how this is possible. Bounced off? I mean, I am not calling Chad a liar by any means, but if that's so, then that's probably not a turkey we want to be eating. Unless I slow cook it for five days straight.
The thing wasn't injured. It just went clucking angrily into the woods (an interesting note; this is the first time I've ever heard turkey sounds, and it definitely sounded more clucky than gobble-y). Chad tried to shoot again but it flapped out of harm's way as he fired. Ah well.
Actually, it's probably for the best that we did not have an early Thanksgiving dinner. I mean, what on earth would we have done with the thing once it was shot? Does a turkey need to be "de-peed?" I also am not willing to pluck feathers. The dog, however; was more than delighted to chase a few stray feathers around the yard. There were plenty of those to go around.
-Chad will shoot a deer and take care of the butcher arrangements (I imagine he will hire someone for this)
-I will cook, and try not to think about that sweet bambi face. I have made it quite clear that I want to see nothing until it is wrapped in paper or plastic. This is one of very few "princess complexes" that I possess
Well, this past week he got his chance at a practice shot. He came home for lunch, had a quick cat nap, woke up, kissed me goodbye, walked out the door, walked back in the door, and whispered sweetly in my ear, "There is a turkey pecking at the bumper of my truck." I got up, looked, and sure enough, there it was, pecking away. I think it saw its reflection in the chrome and was getting a little hostile at his identity theft. A moment later Chad saw another one at the end of our cul-de-sac.
My first thought was, "Wow, what are wild turkeys doing in our front yard?!" My second thought, (which was spoken out loud) was , "KILL IT!" I mean, I wanted me some turkey. So, being the wonderful husband Chad is, he started making a decision between his pistol and the bow and arrow. The pistol? In city limits? With our neighbors very close across the street from us? Yeah, he went with the bow.
So, he stepped out into the street so as to have a better shot at the thing. Aim, fire... all I saw were wings flapping, feathers going everywhere, and then Chad shaking his head. I stepped out of the house. After surmising the meaning of my quizzical gaze, he said, "the arrow bounced off the turkey."
I still have no idea how this is possible. Bounced off? I mean, I am not calling Chad a liar by any means, but if that's so, then that's probably not a turkey we want to be eating. Unless I slow cook it for five days straight.
The thing wasn't injured. It just went clucking angrily into the woods (an interesting note; this is the first time I've ever heard turkey sounds, and it definitely sounded more clucky than gobble-y). Chad tried to shoot again but it flapped out of harm's way as he fired. Ah well.
Actually, it's probably for the best that we did not have an early Thanksgiving dinner. I mean, what on earth would we have done with the thing once it was shot? Does a turkey need to be "de-peed?" I also am not willing to pluck feathers. The dog, however; was more than delighted to chase a few stray feathers around the yard. There were plenty of those to go around.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Post Partum Fat is PHAT!
Here’s another gem from www.femina.reformedblogs.com. Remember the “Nancy Wilson” quote I posted yesterday? Well, this is one of her daughters who just had twins in December.
“... I remembered a note my husband left on the breakfast table two years ago, when Easter fell about 2 weeks after the birth of our second daughter Daphne. I believe it was entitled “A note to my wife Easter morning before she even goes near the closet,” or something romantic like that.
But the point he made in it was one that I am appreciating again this year. It was basically that there is no more appropriate way to celebrate Easter than to be in a body that has been taken all apart on behalf of another. So do it cheerfully. Look at your babies and laugh at the new life and don’t become absorbed in the old death. This is the good stuff - all the extra weight included.”
By the way, the whole post (I think it’s the first one on the page presently) is great and you should read it. The end.
“... I remembered a note my husband left on the breakfast table two years ago, when Easter fell about 2 weeks after the birth of our second daughter Daphne. I believe it was entitled “A note to my wife Easter morning before she even goes near the closet,” or something romantic like that.
But the point he made in it was one that I am appreciating again this year. It was basically that there is no more appropriate way to celebrate Easter than to be in a body that has been taken all apart on behalf of another. So do it cheerfully. Look at your babies and laugh at the new life and don’t become absorbed in the old death. This is the good stuff - all the extra weight included.”
By the way, the whole post (I think it’s the first one on the page presently) is great and you should read it. The end.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter!
Happy Easter, everyone! This morning e feasted on pancakes and bacon. We didn't quite make it to church this morning, however; we were all over at Granny and Grandaddy's until almost modnight doing laundry and I was not about to find out how grumpy my boys could be at church, haha! Anyhow, hope you all aren't being evil pagans like me. Maybe next year we'll be even more pagan and actually do an easter egg hunt! Actually, I just read an interesting little factoid about Easter eggs at www.femina.reformedblogs.com. Nancy Wilson says,
"And as far as the eggs go, my daughter learned while she’s been in England that this tradition has a very practical beginning after all. Since the people didn’t eat eggs during Lent, and because the hens kept right on laying anyway, they had a big surplus of eggs by Easter. So, being keen on finding a good use for so many extra eggs, they turned it into a party and colored the eggs and hid them to delight the children. Children are still delighted by such things, and I say, let them be! What could our good God possibly object to if we want to boil, color, and hide eggs for our children? I never met a child who didn’t adore it!"
that I will provide for you on this blessed day. Have a good one!
"And as far as the eggs go, my daughter learned while she’s been in England that this tradition has a very practical beginning after all. Since the people didn’t eat eggs during Lent, and because the hens kept right on laying anyway, they had a big surplus of eggs by Easter. So, being keen on finding a good use for so many extra eggs, they turned it into a party and colored the eggs and hid them to delight the children. Children are still delighted by such things, and I say, let them be! What could our good God possibly object to if we want to boil, color, and hide eggs for our children? I never met a child who didn’t adore it!"
that I will provide for you on this blessed day. Have a good one!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
9 (-5) stories. J.D. Salinger, anyone?
Guilty, guilty, guilty. That’s all I can say for myself, really. Why have I not written in forever? Nothing but sloth, I tell you. There. Glad I got that off my chest.
Well, I don’t have any big news or anything, but I figured I’d give at least an update via short stories.
I was talking to Shannon today about how particular Sage is; about his clothes, and about his cleanliness especially. If his shoelace is untied, it needs to be tied. Right. Now. It’s pretty interesting, as we all know that this is not in the slightest how Chad and I are. I mean, if my shoe lace is untied, I try and act like I don’t know it so as to avoid stooping down. If Sage’s sleeve has shimmied up his arm, it must be pulled back down into place immediately.
The cleanliness thing just about drives me insane, and here’s why; I wanted something outside that Sage could play in/on that’s in my sight while I do garden work. If he goes into the backyard, it makes me nervous because of how steep and rocky the hill into our yard is. Not to mention the woods behind our house. He has tried sneaking into them a few times. SO, Chad built the kid a sandbox. Nothing too fancy, but in the end it cost $120 for lumber and tarp and bags of sand. I was pretty excited about it, thinking that Sage would dive right in and have a blast. But no. What did this child of mine do when I stuck him in the box o’ joy? Oh, he cried. He cried hard, and he cried good. In trying to show him that the sand was harmless, I took him out of the box and ran my fingers through it. He said, “Gross,” (or “Gro” if you’re going to get technical). Eventually I got his interest peaked when I placed his construction trucks in the thing and showed him how they can push and dump sand. He played for a few minutes but is still wasn’t enough to really keep him busy. *sigh* I don’t really know what to do. Hopefully Orion will like it and Sage will get over his need for perpetually clean hands in time.
In other news, we found out that our soil is way too rocky to start a good garden in it this year. There’s a way to cultivate soil, but it takes a few years. So, I think we might be doing Square Foot Gardening. Nancy is doing it and has a guide book for the process so I think I might look into it. Trying to hoe up that yard was ridonculous
I think that’s about all I can come up with. Life right now is mostly spring cleaning and house getting together-ing. We stained cabinets yesterday and let the boys watch movies while we did so. We’re hoping to start getting our basement finished so that we can knock off that awful addition on the back of the house and build the boys a more suitable bedroom. I asked chad if he could build me a laundry shoot since the washer and dryer would go downstairs. He said he would like to build a dumbwaiter, which seems like a lot more fun, but then I immediately imagined Sage in place of “Kevin” in Home Alone shooting G.I. Joes from the dumbwaiter into the basement with a b.b. gun. OK, maybe I would actually think that was funny, but I would have to act all grownuplike. Whatever that means.
Well, I don’t have any big news or anything, but I figured I’d give at least an update via short stories.
I was talking to Shannon today about how particular Sage is; about his clothes, and about his cleanliness especially. If his shoelace is untied, it needs to be tied. Right. Now. It’s pretty interesting, as we all know that this is not in the slightest how Chad and I are. I mean, if my shoe lace is untied, I try and act like I don’t know it so as to avoid stooping down. If Sage’s sleeve has shimmied up his arm, it must be pulled back down into place immediately.
The cleanliness thing just about drives me insane, and here’s why; I wanted something outside that Sage could play in/on that’s in my sight while I do garden work. If he goes into the backyard, it makes me nervous because of how steep and rocky the hill into our yard is. Not to mention the woods behind our house. He has tried sneaking into them a few times. SO, Chad built the kid a sandbox. Nothing too fancy, but in the end it cost $120 for lumber and tarp and bags of sand. I was pretty excited about it, thinking that Sage would dive right in and have a blast. But no. What did this child of mine do when I stuck him in the box o’ joy? Oh, he cried. He cried hard, and he cried good. In trying to show him that the sand was harmless, I took him out of the box and ran my fingers through it. He said, “Gross,” (or “Gro” if you’re going to get technical). Eventually I got his interest peaked when I placed his construction trucks in the thing and showed him how they can push and dump sand. He played for a few minutes but is still wasn’t enough to really keep him busy. *sigh* I don’t really know what to do. Hopefully Orion will like it and Sage will get over his need for perpetually clean hands in time.
In other news, we found out that our soil is way too rocky to start a good garden in it this year. There’s a way to cultivate soil, but it takes a few years. So, I think we might be doing Square Foot Gardening. Nancy is doing it and has a guide book for the process so I think I might look into it. Trying to hoe up that yard was ridonculous
I think that’s about all I can come up with. Life right now is mostly spring cleaning and house getting together-ing. We stained cabinets yesterday and let the boys watch movies while we did so. We’re hoping to start getting our basement finished so that we can knock off that awful addition on the back of the house and build the boys a more suitable bedroom. I asked chad if he could build me a laundry shoot since the washer and dryer would go downstairs. He said he would like to build a dumbwaiter, which seems like a lot more fun, but then I immediately imagined Sage in place of “Kevin” in Home Alone shooting G.I. Joes from the dumbwaiter into the basement with a b.b. gun. OK, maybe I would actually think that was funny, but I would have to act all grownuplike. Whatever that means.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Cannibals
So, why do my children like to to bite mommy? Julian doesn't have any teeth yet. He's 3 months old. And he has already created a terrible wound that has to have a couple days of no nursing to heal properly. I think he just sucks really hard or something, but I have 2 cuts, on the top and bottom!! I assume you all remember the Lara bite incident, but she was 7 months old already...
I started doing Pilates yesterday (we'll see how long this lasts) because I need to do something, and I can do this while Lara is awake because she does it with me. Man is it funny. We lie on our backs in front of the TV and follow Ellen (Lara knows her name) as she stretches and works us, and Lara attempts it all with me. If I can ever get the video camera CD installed on this computer, I'll tape it for you and post it somewhere. It'd be a good watch. :)
I bought a bag of gutted, scaled, but otherwise whole tilapia at Sam's and pulled three of them out to thaw this morning. I put them in a bin in the sink with warm water and showed Lara. Her first reaction was, "mommy, the fish are tired." Then she said, "mommy, those fish are sad." I thought honesty was the best policy, so I risked it all and said, "no, sweetie, those fish are dead and we are going to eat them for dinner." Her response: "Yeah! We're gonna eat them!" I would have thought that all her viewings of Finding Nemo and The Little Mermaid would have sensitized her to the plight of the fish... evidently not.
Incidentally, she found them quite tasty.
I started doing Pilates yesterday (we'll see how long this lasts) because I need to do something, and I can do this while Lara is awake because she does it with me. Man is it funny. We lie on our backs in front of the TV and follow Ellen (Lara knows her name) as she stretches and works us, and Lara attempts it all with me. If I can ever get the video camera CD installed on this computer, I'll tape it for you and post it somewhere. It'd be a good watch. :)
I bought a bag of gutted, scaled, but otherwise whole tilapia at Sam's and pulled three of them out to thaw this morning. I put them in a bin in the sink with warm water and showed Lara. Her first reaction was, "mommy, the fish are tired." Then she said, "mommy, those fish are sad." I thought honesty was the best policy, so I risked it all and said, "no, sweetie, those fish are dead and we are going to eat them for dinner." Her response: "Yeah! We're gonna eat them!" I would have thought that all her viewings of Finding Nemo and The Little Mermaid would have sensitized her to the plight of the fish... evidently not.
Incidentally, she found them quite tasty.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Big News, Baby
I had an ultrasound today for the nuchal translucency test, and even though I am only about 12 weeks, she said that she would be able to tell me with 90-95% certainty what the gender is. So here we go....the Farley boy spell is broken! We're having a girl!! Woo hoo! Now, I'm not going to start buying any pink just yet, but I am really excited. I think Adam is even more excited, he really wanted a girl. Anyway, yay!
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