But did you know it was like all this?
thanks to Mrs Memmer for makig it happen!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Marshmallows for Toasting
At a certain point you stop noticing your kid's firsts. Their first step (I was at work), their first words, the first time they clapped (Baby Birdman, on the MEXICO boat ride at EPCOT) and on and on.....these things sort of slip away as they age.
The light display was really impressive. It went on and on and on. I've been to some light displays but this one was fairly extraordinary, as far as drive through one's go. No it wasn't the OSBOURNE lights but it was really nice.
They've done this, they've done that - and unless you're taking them mountain climbing or something you've pretty much knocked out most things.
Or, you kinda stop logging them in your brain - just a little.
So I'd like to put my good, observant mommy hat on for a moment and share with you - our FIRST ever marshmallow roasting - at the big outdoors Christmas Lights extravaganza near our home.
A couple of big fire pits and marshmallows on sticks were our first foray into burning confection on a stick. You know how we love foods on sticks. Burned foods on sticks? Even better.
There was marshmallow roasting all around but it was kinda hard to get everyone's faces because of the big old crowd. But Daddy helped the little guys get their own marshmallows roasted - just like they were big boys.
The light display was really impressive. It went on and on and on. I've been to some light displays but this one was fairly extraordinary, as far as drive through one's go. No it wasn't the OSBOURNE lights but it was really nice.
It was a beautiful night with free hot chocolate served by fine Christian Women, and a real live nativity where they rocked some modern Christian music as part of the show. Can I get some "Angels We Have Heard on High?" or what about "Adeste Fidelis?"
I don't need new "modern" Christmas music or Christian music for that matter. Stop writing it.
I'll give a pass to 4 new songs a year but those will have to be approved BY me from now before we subject people to them at Live Nativity events.
But I digress.
So here on 12/23 we're getting into Christmas spirit by building a Gingerbread House - as a warning to all children not to go wandering in the forest or you'll get eaten by a witch.......or something. Why do we build these at Christmas?
I have no idea. But I do know this. When you spend a good long time decorating and building your Christmas gingerbread house, do you know what is annoying? It's annoying when your little brothers sneak into the kitchen and eat the sugared jellies off of the house. At least, that is the impression I was given.
Marshmallows for Toasting
At a certain point you stop noticing your kid's firsts. Their first step (I was at work), their first words, the first time they clapped (Baby Birdman, on the MEXICO boat ride at EPCOT) and on and on.....these things sort of slip away as they age.
The light display was really impressive. It went on and on and on. I've been to some light displays but this one was fairly extraordinary, as far as drive through one's go. No it wasn't the OSBOURNE lights but it was really nice.
They've done this, they've done that - and unless you're taking them mountain climbing or something you've pretty much knocked out most things.
Or, you kinda stop logging them in your brain - just a little.
So I'd like to put my good, observant mommy hat on for a moment and share with you - our FIRST ever marshmallow roasting - at the big outdoors Christmas Lights extravaganza near our home.
A couple of big fire pits and marshmallows on sticks were our first foray into burning confection on a stick. You know how we love foods on sticks. Burned foods on sticks? Even better.
There was marshmallow roasting all around but it was kinda hard to get everyone's faces because of the big old crowd. But Daddy helped the little guys get their own marshmallows roasted - just like they were big boys.
The light display was really impressive. It went on and on and on. I've been to some light displays but this one was fairly extraordinary, as far as drive through one's go. No it wasn't the OSBOURNE lights but it was really nice.
It was a beautiful night with free hot chocolate served by fine Christian Women, and a real live nativity where they rocked some modern Christian music as part of the show. Can I get some "Angels We Have Heard on High?" or what about "Adeste Fidelis?"
I don't need new "modern" Christmas music or Christian music for that matter. Stop writing it.
I'll give a pass to 4 new songs a year but those will have to be approved BY me from now before we subject people to them at Live Nativity events.
But I digress.
So here on 12/23 we're getting into Christmas spirit by building a Gingerbread House - as a warning to all children not to go wandering in the forest or you'll get eaten by a witch.......or something. Why do we build these at Christmas?
I have no idea. But I do know this. When you spend a good long time decorating and building your Christmas gingerbread house, do you know what is annoying? It's annoying when your little brothers sneak into the kitchen and eat the sugared jellies off of the house. At least, that is the impression I was given.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
"Ummm, Can You Come Back Here?"
*Let me start off with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUCKA! to Sarah one of my favoritest people in the world.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
"Ummm, Can You Come Back Here?"
*Let me start off with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUCKA! to Sarah one of my favoritest people in the world.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A Lump Of Coal For Martha Stewart...Or Maybe A Handful of Molten Lava
One day, during the world's longest miscarriage, I took my biggest boy onto my lap, and had him pick out the things in the Holiday Martha Stewart magazine that he thought would be yummy to make and tops on his list were her Peppermint Icicles.
Now, I'm a fan of making candy but I've never REALLY made hard candy before - but I figure if you follow the logic of baking - just FOLLOW the recipe and you can't go wrong.
Wrong.
Candy making is it's own weird thing.
First off, let me condemn Martha to the hell of molten lava because her instructions say that you should be able to start pulling this confection just a few minutes after pouring it into a pan to cool.
See that blistered and bloody mess? That's my finger. The finger I lightly touched to to surface to test it - as it seemed WAY too hot to put my hands into - as her instructions indicated would be safe to do. I swear, it said "mixture will be very hot." Should've said "Mixture will be flesh melting hot." So I screamed for the husband and he came running and put HIS hands into the molten lava..... 
And yes, it MELTED the rubber gloves. 
I went to work making the blue section, pulling and twisting it. And then we started putting them together. What a mess. 
Yes that is a giant rope of candy cane (peppermint icicles). And now, a home movie - as shot by a six year old - with direction and narration by Lil Satchmo
Eventually though, we had some semblance of Peppermint Icicles. You can see the carnage of the candy that didn't make it off the pan for the pulling process - it's still brown. They taste pretty good, they're fairly subtle - as far as the flavor goes. I'd put in more mint next time.
A Lump Of Coal For Martha Stewart...Or Maybe A Handful of Molten Lava
One day, during the world's longest miscarriage, I took my biggest boy onto my lap, and had him pick out the things in the Holiday Martha Stewart magazine that he thought would be yummy to make and tops on his list were her Peppermint Icicles.
Now, I'm a fan of making candy but I've never REALLY made hard candy before - but I figure if you follow the logic of baking - just FOLLOW the recipe and you can't go wrong.
Wrong.
Candy making is it's own weird thing.
First off, let me condemn Martha to the hell of molten lava because her instructions say that you should be able to start pulling this confection just a few minutes after pouring it into a pan to cool.
See that blistered and bloody mess? That's my finger. The finger I lightly touched to to surface to test it - as it seemed WAY too hot to put my hands into - as her instructions indicated would be safe to do. I swear, it said "mixture will be very hot." Should've said "Mixture will be flesh melting hot." So I screamed for the husband and he came running and put HIS hands into the molten lava..... And yes, it MELTED the rubber gloves. I went to work making the blue section, pulling and twisting it. And then we started putting them together. What a mess. Yes that is a giant rope of candy cane (peppermint icicles). And now, a home movie - as shot by a six year old - with direction and narration by Lil Satchmo
Eventually though, we had some semblance of Peppermint Icicles. You can see the carnage of the candy that didn't make it off the pan for the pulling process - it's still brown. They taste pretty good, they're fairly subtle - as far as the flavor goes. I'd put in more mint next time.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The Candy Anniversary
It's Our Candy Anniversary.
That's 6 years. Our other option was IRON but not owning a forge that seemed impractical.
I made him chocolate cremes and chocolate cherries, and (failed) toffee (a subject for another post I assure you).
He had custom M&Ms made with our picture on them, and several wonderful sayings.
I'm going to take them to work tomorrow, show everyone and share nothing.
I love being married. I love him despite all his faults and my complaints. (Name that movie).
I would not change one minute. Because if I did, I wouldn't have a jar full of custom M&Ms downstairs from my one true love.
Happy Anniversary Baby.
The Candy Anniversary
It's Our Candy Anniversary.
That's 6 years. Our other option was IRON but not owning a forge that seemed impractical.
I made him chocolate cremes and chocolate cherries, and (failed) toffee (a subject for another post I assure you).
He had custom M&Ms made with our picture on them, and several wonderful sayings.
I'm going to take them to work tomorrow, show everyone and share nothing.
I love being married. I love him despite all his faults and my complaints. (Name that movie).
I would not change one minute. Because if I did, I wouldn't have a jar full of custom M&Ms downstairs from my one true love.
Happy Anniversary Baby.
