Friday night was movie and pizza night. I live in such a small town there isn't a Panago or Dominoes for a hundred canadian miles. (kilometers) The only place to buy pizza is the corner store. You can buy them cooked or uncooked. We were at the river swimming when I realized it was getting late and I better the movie and pizza going. Unlike my husband, I do not have Scotts Foods on speed dial. I also have no desire to wait around at the corner store long enough for the pizza to cook with all of my juvenile delinquints I hang with on a daily basis, so I grabbed an uncooked one and would just cook it myself at home. The girl (about 15 yrs old or so) passed me the pizza and I asked "what do I cook this on?" Meaning temperature.She says, "oh just remove the plastic and cook it right on this tray." I meant how hot. "oh ha ha (giggle) probly 450 degrees" I came home, cranked the oven, wondered if 450 was right because it seemed awfully high and unwrapped the pizza. I also momentarily questioned whether the girl was right in telling me to cook it on the tray it came on.... it looked like a giant paper plate to me.... just then a fight broke out in cell block D and I shoved the pizza in and ran to break it up. About 10 minutes later I noticed smoke BILLOWING from the kitchen! I ran in, opened the oven, the smoke got in my eyes and momentarily blinded me and the flames singed my eyebrows. Yep, it was a frigging paper plate that twit told me to cook the pizza on, it was a paper plate that this twit put in the oven, and it was a paper plate that was majorly on fire in my oven. Next came the tricky part, getting the pizza off the flaming plate with out wrecking it and needing to get another one lest a meltdown of catastropic proportions occur over pizza-less movie night. Fortunatly, the pizza survived... my oven mitts did not.
I am sick. Nothing has been going on around my house but couch laying and cartoon watching, and the occaisonal trip to the playground to let the kids burn off some energy and me doing some puking in the bushes. Puking in the bushes is one thing when you are at a party, and its dark, and at least 2am. It kinda makes you feel like a teenager again. But when it is the middle of the day, and you are at the playground watching the kids run around and play with complete disregard for the obnoxious state of your insides which suddenly errupt like a volcano, and all the kids come running over to see what you are doing and imitate you is another.
It's Monday today and the craziness of the weekend is thankfully over. I like my husband being home and all but really, the workload triples. He is the messiest, hungriest, I-worked-all-week-now-wait-on-me person I have ever met. I am so glad its Monday, I couldn't have took one more day of it all. On the days he works, I hang out with the kids, play on the computer, go to the river, pretty much play all day till 3 o clock, when the cartoons go on and I clean and cook and bake all in 2 hours like a lunatic. I accomplish so much in those two hours that he thinks I was slaving away all day. Good thing he doesn't have facebook or twitter at work...
I am loving my new camera. Today my favorite feature was the continuous picture taking. I took the kids to the bike park today to get some practice. Just to be clear, I take pictures at the bike park in hopes of catching not a spectacular jump, but a spectacular wipeout. I am sorry. I can't help it. Call me terrible, but there is nothing funnier than a kid wailing down the hill on a bike, launching off a jump and biting the dust. I laugh hysterically and hardly manage to help them up and wipe them off. This is probably the reason my kids are such daredevils. It's funny as hell in our house for someone to get hurt. We always laugh first and ask "are you okay?", second. There wern't any crashes today, (Ellie-May is on vacation with her dad) but some of the pictures were pretty funny.
This was a close one, see. Notice the foot off the pedal, the look on the face, and the front tire landing first? I screamed in anticipation at this exact second, but nothing happened. Hopefully next time.
After years of wishing and days of working I finally got my camera. It`s my new best friend. I spent the last few hours taking pictures of anything and everything. People, ornaments, my feet, my hands, my dog, and its the most fun I`ve had since I Trashed the Dress. I`m starting to get the hang of the settings and the buttons and all the fancy stuff it can do, but I still cant find the feature that erases dirt on faces...
Oh ya, its called a bath!
Yes, I managed to peel myself away from it long enough to bath my kid, but forget about me cooking or doing housework for at least a week!
I have a weakness for food. Especially food with cream cheese on it. It's a sick obssession really. Last night a friend stopped in for a visit. Around 10 she got hungry, so she phoned up the pub and had them cook us up some snacks. Mine was cream cheese smothered mushrooms with garlic bread. About one of the best things in the whole world, except if you have gallbladder issues, like me. I am quickly learning which foods affect me and which don't. As I was snarfing down the mushrooms, I had a fleeting thought of "this might hurt later" but I quickly pushed it out of my mind for fear of it ruining my appetite. Can someone please explain to my why I would ignore that thought? Maybe it needs to speak louder next time and make itself heard! By the time my friend left, I was ready to ask for a ride to the hospital, but I toughed it out and even managed to walk her to the door. I then ran back to the couch and proceeded to die for the next 3 or 4 hours. It's bad enough when the size of your ass doesn't stop you from eating something, but excruciating pain?! Give me a break! I'd probably chew through an electric fence if something fattening was on the other side. Please, if someone has seen my willpower or common sense wandering around anywhere kick them in the ass and send them home, right now!
Well, they sure as heck ain't Ruby Red Slippers, but they managed to get me back home again anyways, and after four days of workin like a dog, there really is no place like home. Until you realize that you have four days of boys-being-home-alone mess to clean up. Maybe I should take my earnings and hire a maid?
Day one of bear season has come and gone, and do you know how I spent it? Cleaning out my gramma's garage! Hauling old windows out to the shed, wood scraps to the burn pile, used furniture to another location. Hours upon hours of moving some of the heaviest peices of crap know to man! How she had so much stuff in that two-car garage I will never know! But tonight, it is spic and span, and ready to park her car in. Yesterday, she had me hauling bricks, for six hours. Tomorow, she has steam cleaning and fence paining on the agenda... Please if anyone is listening... I need help...I have been kidnapped and forced to do manual labour.... HELP!
Black Bear season opens in 2 days. My preoccupation with this fact is comparible to Homer Simpson and Beer. I float around, tongue hanging out, in a daze, and my answer to everything is "must..shoot...bear!" My camo is out and ready to go. My hunting bag is packed. I care about nothing other than that. Hey, didn't I have some little kids around here somewhere?
I am one of those people that only answer the phone if I know who it is calling. I know my bills are paid, so If a "1-866" or something similar is calling it's god damn soliciters. A few times I have actually answered and was verbally assaulted with a 10 minute stream of why I should donate money to send some unfortuante kids to something I can't afford to send my own to. They don't let you get a word in edgewise, until the end, when I ask how I get to be one of those people that gets their admission paid into all that fun stuff, because I can't afford to go either. This always stumps them, they don't know. "You don't know?! Well how can you ask for money for something that you know nothing about, maybe it's a scam" and I continute to ask them questions and talk non-stop till either I run out of things to say and hang up on them or they get sick of listening to me and hang up.
Another quick solve way to get rid of them is to just pick up the phone and slam it right back down. Sometimes this makes them mad so they phone back reapeatedly letting it ring all 50 times before hanging up and waiting 30 seconds and phoning right back. We laugh when this happens.
Another quick solve way to get rid of them is to just pick up the phone and slam it right back down. Sometimes this makes them mad so they phone back reapeatedly letting it ring all 50 times before hanging up and waiting 30 seconds and phoning right back. We laugh when this happens.
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