Happy Halloween!

And in costume contest news, Miss Piggy won the Halloween contest when she was 7, and she won it again at work this week. Only this time there was no slick trophy, just raisins and an apple.

Up all night, sleep all day

Now that I have that song firmly stuck in your head and you've been transported back to 1995, it about explains my life. Despite being up at 11 pm, 1 am, 3:42 am, and 5:12 am, I didn't wake up to go to work. Beerman woke up when he heard the oven beeping. Thank God I'm still doing the croissant in the morning thing or we'd still be in bed. And I'm still exhausted. We spent yesterday afternoon at the doggie oncologist. Many options, all of them crappy, and all with many zeros behind them. And because Old English Sheepdogs have hair, not fur, the chemo will make him go totally bald. Time to start knitting some sweaters, I guess. This just sucks. I love that big, sock eating, counter food swiping, dog.

Wordless Wednesday - Pink Day

Just ignore the fuzzy picture and devilishly red eyes - it was a rough night and my photographic skills are off today.

Crying in the vet's office again

Once upon a time, the vet told me Harry had a heart problem. And I sat there in the vet's office crying to myself because I'd just gone to South Dakota to get this dog, and now he wasn't even save-able. The thing is, 6 years later, he's doing just great. But yesterday, I took Riley to the vet. He hasn't been putting a lot of weight on his back-right leg. I figured he was licking it like crazy again, and just caused some swelling. Or maybe he ran around the yard like an idiot and hurt himself. But it wasn't getting better, and seemed to be getting worse, so I left work today to take him in. And that's when the vet slugged me upside the head and punched me in the gut. Well, he might as well have. Actually, he was really nice and just handed me a box of Kleenex. Because he told me that Riley's got bone cancer. And that typically means there's less than a year left with a lot of pain in between - in more ways than one, from what I can tell. And there I sat, crying in the vet's office again. Sigh...

My funny of the day

Just Don't Breathe In

So we went to a black tie affair on Saturday night. Decent time. We were table #15. Now you'd expect that to be, oh, on the fringes of the room. So imagine my surprise when we sat down smack in front of the podium with Mr. Bigtime himself and 5 Mr. Bigtime Juniors and their wives from Beerman's company. My own Mr. Bigtime doesn't know me by sight, let alone kiss me on the cheek and wish me a lovely time on our way out. (Which, by the way, I now know why Republicans don't understand there's a recession on - They raised $383,000 in 3 hours with 400 people in attendance. And we did not bid on anything. You do the math.) Anyhow, to get ready for the event in my cotton candy pink dress, I knew I needed some color to this pasty skin. So, I went to a MysticTan booth a la Ross Gellar. Just before getting in the gas chamber, the woman says, "Try not to breathe in while you're in there, okay?" You know that just can't be good for you. Anyhow, apparently I didn't follow directions very well, because the bottoms of my feet are bright orange. Oops. At least the rest of my looked fine enough and not spray-painted that I didn't scare anyone at a non-Halloween event. But we'll be leaving this experience to be a very rare, only when necessary sort of thing.

Trick or Treat!

Remembering what it's like to be an adult

Phonics

C-man loves to spell and sound-out words. This morning, this is what I overhear between C-man and Beerman... "Daddy, how do you spell man?" "Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm What's that letter?" "M!" "ah-ah-ah How about that?" "A" "en-en-en?" "N! MAN Because 'I'm the man!'"

Wordless "Photo Credit to C-man" Wednesday

Tuesdays Thoughts

Still confused about the mess on Wall Street? Then check this out. It explains pretty simply how we've based our financial industry on trading nothing for something. I found it pretty eye opening. That, and that the AIG derivatives are only .8% of all the derivatives out there. Yikes! ***************** Complaint alert: Yahoo went and "upgraded" my website account. What a pain. Now I have 4000 more options to website development that I didn't want nor need, and I can't find one that even works! Argh! ***************** I recently watched the movie Outsourced. If you haven't seen it, and need a cute rental, I recommend it. ***************** Tonight's going to be the first "deep freeze". I brought a ton of stuff into work today to give away. It kills me to do it, but the basil is going to have to be chopped down and brought inside. I've made a ton of pesto and butters already, but now I'm going to have to start preserving it in oil. I was hoping this would have waited until the weekend. But hey, at least I have 3 days of low pressure to look forward to! Ouch. It's a good thing I have a chiropractic appointment today. It's the only thing keeping me happy sane alive lately. ***************** Yesterday morning Beerman called to inform me that we have a black tie event to attend on Saturday. On such short notice, this is the only thing I have in my closet. I know, it's pink, but it's just going to have to do. I figure with a black wrap, some swanky jewelry, and a breast cancer pin, it will look like I'm making an October activist "statement". Now I just need to find a breast cancer pin. Oh, and a babysitter, because Harrydog has been just too irresponsible lately. ***************** Apparently I have found heaven, and its real name is "delay start". The past two mornings I have awoken to a freshly baked, outrageously decadent chocolate croissant. That, and a just perked cup of coffee to which I add my wanna-be Starbucks pumpkin latte mix. Oh my God, add the morning newspaper crossword puzzle, and I quake with excitement. Who knew mornings could be so frickin' good?!? Yes Jennifer, you say, welcome to 1978. I know, I know. But I just get so hectic at night. Or so tired. That things just don't come together after 8 p.m. like they do for most people. But I think I'm onto something here...

Beautiful Day

My little angel singing in church this morning

Looking cute, front and center:The ears motion happened about 15 seconds earlier. But at least he's participating this year.Apparently he felt the song needed the "show my belly to the church" motion:Here he is srewing around with the girl next to him when everyone else has their heads bowed and eyes closed angelicly while praying:

It'll save you the $4.50 at you-know-where

Pumpkin Spice Latte Ingredients: Makes 2 servings 1 level tablespoon pumpkin puree 1 cup milk (whole if you dare!) 1/2 tablespoon light brown sugar (packed and leveled) 1/4 tsp cinnamon 1/8 tsp nutmeg (+ a pinch for dusting later) 1/8 tsp ground cloves 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract 2 cups strong coffee (brewed using 2 tbs per 1 cup of water) You can also use a shot or two of espresso instead of coffee. 4 tablespoons Coffeemate creamer 4 to 8 teaspoons of granulated sugar Whipped cream Begin brewing coffee. In a blender puree the milk, pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, brown sugar and vanilla. Pour into a small saucepan and cook over low heat until the milk is warm and begins to froth slightly. (About 4-5 minutes.) Remove from heat. For each serving: Pour 1/2 cup of the pumpkin mixture into your coffee mug. Add 2 generous tablespoons of Coffeemate creamer. Heat in the microwave for 30 seconds, then add 1 cup of brewed coffee. Add 2 to 4 teaspoons of sugar (depending on how sweet you like your drink, I added 3 tsps.) Top off with a touch more ‘pumpkin milk’ then cover with whipped cream and sprinkle with nutmeg. Serve immediately.

Herbology

I've been wasting way too much time talking to way too many universities about PhD programs. And the result is to discover that the ones I want to go to don't allow part-time students. Which I just don't understand. I'm willing to give you my money, for a way longer period of my life than any reasonable human should commit to, and you don't want me. Because unless I'm willing to give up my job for 4 - 5 years, I'm deemed unworthy. Bummer. But I'm still looking. And I'll find a reputable program that doesn't require me licking and affixing one of your cut out stamps with my chosen degree on the entry form, and then the Kellogg School of Management will be sorry! Anyhow, while in the natural foods store today, looking for some elder flower and astragulus of course, it occurred to me that I should get a degree in Herbology. At least then I would get a discount on this crap. So I went to utilize my PhD in Google to find out more. And apparently, Herbology isn't just for Harry Potter anymore. So far, I've finished my first module from the Herb School, all about the immune system. Take that, University of Chicago. And all your Nobel laureates too! I'm going to get an online certificate in something nobody cares about but me. ********************* Only 3 more days left to sign up to get the cheap registration on the Jingle Bell Run/Walk.

If this doesn't deserve a "WTF?", I don't know what does

Rollercoaster Ride

Maybe we're getting too involved with this election

After proudly pooping, C-man calls us in to all look at his handiwork. As we get to the bathroom, he declares with a very presidential-like point at us, "3 poops for one nation!" and bounds away. Here's hoping this debate isn't another snoozer. ***************** PS: The early registration deadline (aka cheaper registration fee and t-shirt with the team name on it) for the Jingle Bell Run/Walk is Monday.

Clock Watching Musings

When I was out of high school, I had the incredible opportunity to work as an ad inserter at the local small town newspaper. I say "incredible", because in case you're unfamiliar with the position, it incredibly required standing for 8 hours while taking the day's newspaper ads and inserting them inside the newspaper. (Yes, there are machines that do this, but it was cheaper to hire minimum wage than buy and maintain the machine.) Somehow, while still in a full leg brace 5 weeks post-ACL repair, this was supposed to make me more responsible and fully understand the value of the dollar. (Which is an expression I've, to this day, never understood. Because we all understand that the value of the dollar is largely dependent upon foreign markets, commodities, federal reserves, and investor confidence... none of which includes a job that makes less than $6 an hour. And, by the way, I'm still terrible with money. Maybe making me go to a financial class would have made better use of my time.) Anyhow, there was a sign over the clock that said, "This clock will never be stolen, because the inserters are always watching it." And last night, while staring at the clock THE ENTIRE NIGHT, that sign flashed back in front of me. I'd forgotten about it all those years ago. So I began to think about what could be the worst job I've held. It's a tough competition. So in no particular order, these are my worst-job contenders:

• Ad inserter
• Bathroom cleaner in a paper mill (yuk!)
• Forklift driver in a carboard mill working 3 - 11 all summer long while getting CONSTANTLY harassed by horny truck drivers, and when submitting it as an issue, having the HR department tell me "no one else has complained" and being moved to an even shittier location in said carboard mill
• Telemarketer for a university the two semesters after they changed their much popular mascot to a ridiculous bird (although I did always win the incentive prizes when offered)
• Director of Events and Programs at the National Kidney Foundation that reported to the craziest, most mentally unstable woman I've ever met who went so far as to rename herself CEO simply because it sounded more important

While I will never agree that these positions have taught me much other than there are a lot of really crappy jobs in the world that allow you to pay your minimum payments on your credit card bills that you've gone and overextended yourself with because that place is supposed to have the BEST martinis and you have to do SOMETHING to forget what kind of a crap day you've had, they are good for party conversations. After all, who can say they've inserted ads into a newspaper?

The old college try with a new toy

The wind up:

Maybe a longer run:

Ohhhh! :

Just stomp on it:

Ay! Chi-Hua-Hua

It's official. Beverly Hills Chihuahua is a hit. I mean, how could it not be, with 90 minutes of a million talking dogs? Seems like heaven to me. Thank God the theater serves you beer right to your seats. It took us 15 minutes to get out of the theater because C-man was dancing to the theme song. ********************* Beerman gets home in a bit. He's been at the Great American Beer Festival all week. (2 golds, a silver, and 5 bronzes. Brewer of the Year went to the "other" brewery.) C-man and I have been fine, but Riley has been absolutely distraught all week. I even had Beerman talk to him over the phone the other day. With any other dog, I wouldn't believe it. But with Riley, you would have thought you'd just given him a brand new meaty bone to hear Beerman's voice. So much for him having been MY birthday present! (You know when he's especially sad - he hoards a shoe.) ********************* And this is just funny. http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=6b0_1223647591&c=1

Hide and Seek

C-man and I spent the morning at the Audubon Center for storytime and then some running around outside in the preserve on a gorgeous day. It ended up turning into an hour and a half session of hide and seek, which goes something like this with a 3 1/2 year old... Mommy, you count. I start to count. No, not backwards, like this. He then proceeds to count 1 - 2 - 3... So I start over doing it "right" this time. Ready or not, here I come. Giggle. Giggle. Hysterical laughing while I continue to "look". Mommy, I'm over here! which later turns into Na-na-na-na-boo-boo! Okay, my turn to count. You go hide right over there so I can find you. No matter how many times we do it, it still makes me laugh.

Day Off

Why am I more exhausted on a day off than when I work?

Passage of Time

Dates, numbers, anniversaries... 24 hours to mark a passage of time. Sunrise, sunset, with something in between. Sometimes days are happy occasions. Sometimes they’re sad ones. Some days are set aside for celebrations, while others for remembering a previous passage of time and events. And other times, a day is just a means to get to an end – when you cross off the dates on a calendar because it marks being one day closer to a vacation, a graduation, an ending of some sort, or even a beginning of another. But each day means something to someone, however meaningless or significant. So today I'll pause to notice what this day once meant to me. And then I'll let the sun set so that tomorrow can start the day over again with a new number and new memories.

Brown Day

Each Wednesday is a color day at C-man's school. Today was brown day. And I don't know what's more remarkable, that I remembered it was brown day or that it was a totally fitting color for me today. Today is definitely a brown day. Not exciting red, or perky yellow, or calm blue, but just plain ol' bullshit brown.

Today

Beerman spent all day yesterday trying to fix our furnace that won't work. As he's muttering to himself, "I just don't know why it won't work!" I say, "Maybe it was the 2 feet of water it was under in June? He claims not, because the air conditioning still works. Anyhow, the problem has been solved in the interim until post-beer festival season with 2 brand new space heaters. ****************** My back hurts. Not at all an abnormal thing in my daily life, but today it's from sneezing too damn much. Ouch. I don't know if I have a cold, allergies, or what, but I feel like a truck ran me over. ****************** If this doesn't make you laugh, you need a funny bone adjustment.

Right as Rain

OJ's in prison; the Cubs were swept and the Brewers won; my freezer is packed to the gills with pesto (had to use up some of the basil) and tomatoes; our 3 large pumpkins, 3 small pumpkins, 3 gourds and 6 indian corn are sitting in front of our house; I just got an email about our upcoming cow being on schedule (getting a 1/4 from a local farmer)... Things in the world are pretty good. More from yesterday:

Happy Fall

Tomatos, Shomatoes

There once was a woman who lived in a double-wide, she had so many tomatoes, she was fit to be tied! Okay, I know, a bad little ditty that uses a phrase my Mom always says and I have no idea what it actually means except through context which when she says it infers ' I'm really pissed off', but I am overflowing in frickin' tomatoes. I've been blanching, peeling and freezing them and still have a ton more to do. Those whom I've asked have told me to screw the whole canning bit, which is good, because then I'd have to figure out how to successfully do that without burning myself (which would be as likely as actually getting Sarah Palin to answer the damned question). Since the nights are now getting down to freezing temperatures, this Sunday is going to be all about drying, preserving, freezing, pesto-izing my remaining tomatoes, herbs and vegetables. And, hopefully watching a Brewers game. This was batch #3:

Debate Watch

John McCain has denied rumors that if he wins they will start referring to the White House as the Playboy Mansion. He said Hefner has three girlfriends and the Constitution limits him to only one Vice President.

"I've been so focused on state government, I haven't really focused much on the war in Iraq." --Palin

Numbers by Brewers

We have a large calendar up for C-man, so he can learn the dates, and so we don't miss that he has gone 4 days without pooping. Last night, as he was putting his sticker up on Craig Cousell's day, he looked at me and said, "What am I going to do on this 3 day, because he got fired?" ************** "Mom, are you going faster than CC Sabathia?" "What do you mean, buddy?" "That sign said CC Sabathia" "Oh, no, that was 25, not 52. And yes, I'll slow down" (Reading left to right is still an issue.) ************** (It's red day at school today.) "But Mom, it's Corey Hart day." "But it's red day too." "But it's Corey Hart day." "I know, buddy. How about you wear red until you get home, and then put on your Hart shirt." "Ok, Mommy."

Quite possibly the funniest picture I've ever taken...