I’m not entirely (read: at all) sure why I decided to write a book. I’m lazy, I don’t follow through with things, and I’m a bit scared of commitment. And so much dang thinking will be involved! So much effort! Wow, I’ve already halfway talked myself out of this. Cool, I’ll just go eat some cookie dough instead and catch up on Words with Friends.
No really, perhaps that’s exactly why I should write a book. Or try to, at least. It probably shouldn’t even come as remotely a surprise anyway. After all, talking about myself and my mundane, yet quirky little life is one of my all-time favorite activities. And if I can do this, get my fantabulous ideas down in black and white, they’ll be perfectly preserved for the countless generations to come who will undoubtedly be enamored by every fascinating kernel of my glorious life.
So now the million dollar question is: how in Hades am I going to write a book?! In school, we were always taught to start each essay with an outline. Yeah, not doing that. Much like my housekeeping, I’m gonna just cut corners anywhere I can. So I plan to just rattle on as I fit about this, that, and the other. Hopefully by the end, there will be one or two golden nuggets worth keeping. If not…yeah, okay, I don’t have an if not. I’ll work on that.
So read what you want, skip anything snooze-worthy, and point and laugh at me whenever you get the chance.
Posted in Musings
The husband nearly died again–I think. This time though, I take no responsibility. Here’s the deal. As usual, the boy had a few beers Friday evening. He got in a bit late, then slept late on Saturday. Fine. Then Saturday was hot. Like, really hot. Nonetheless, we hopped on the bikes and rode down to Park & Co. for a burger fix (for the boy, of course–though I must say their iced tea is delicious).
Sitting under our lovely umbrella on the patio at Park & Co., the camel Scott washed down his BBQ burger and fries with one pint of Mama’s Little Yella Pils and three full glasses of water. Boy was thirsty, I guess, but all was fine. We hopped back on the bikes and headed for home. En route, we decide on a brief detour to some shops. That’s when Scott learns that Wax Trax has no A/C…
I’m always trying to get my beloved to eat breakfast. I have no idea why this is such a difficult thing for him. Maybe it’s because he’s had too many beers the night before (note to self: beer muffins?)…so anyway, this is the latest in my series of ongoing attempts. They’re kind of like a homemade Nutri-Grain bar mixed with a fruit crisp of sorts. Mix them, bake them, eat them, repeat. Pretty easy, really. Continue reading
I suppose I just felt like making something a little bit manly. It was looking a little too flowery and sparkly around here, all those dang colored sprinkles. So, I thought we’d just inject a little testosterone into this-here blog. And how better to do that than to add a little pork–and cheese? Really, these are total man food–man muffins, if you will. Make them for your hubby, or for your kids, or for yourself if you feel like eating in sweatpants, sprawled on the sofa with your hair disheveled and your legs totally un-crossed. Either way, enjoy! Continue reading
I know, this picture is awful. There’s a reason for that (besides that I’m a poor photographer). I just really wanted to show you–yes you, the lone reader I have–the fantastic ingredients that went into this little sheet cake. I’m so excited by both of these little jars–giddy even… Continue reading
I think cranberries and oranges should get together and make babies. They would be like oranges with bright red seeds, or like cranberries with bursts of orange juice inside, or like little bite-sized orange balls of tart happiness that are harvested from the orchards by floods…or something. Yeah, I think I even lost myself there with that one.
Anyway, these were kind of a kitchen clean-out mish-mash to use up the last of the OJ that nearly killed Scott and some cranberries that just happened to be chillin’ in the fridge. So there you go. And here you are: Continue reading
One of my favorite little piggies requested red velvet cupcakes months ago. I know–I’m terrible. But what better time for red velvet than St. Valentine’s Day?! Maybe I subconsciously planned that. Yeah…let’s go with that.
So here they are…drum roll please…high-altitude-approved red velvet deliciousness. They’re named in honor of my good friend, Hallie–she LOVES red. I do too. Go make some! Continue reading