A Bit of Everything

As always I've had lots to blog about but I haven't been blogging. I'm just about bursting at the seams. This post will be a smorgasbord of different pictures, stories and alerts that I need to get off my chest.

Nerds

If a word were to describe my relationship with my best girlfriend, Holly, I think "spontaneity" would do it. We've known each other for most of our lives and you would be surprised to find out how many of our thousands of adventures together were planned only hours or minutes before they transpired.

The adventure I'm featuring here today is the "'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1' Opening Night Event." We had just so happened to schedule a pumpkin mousse date together the day before the opening of HP7. As we lingered over our afternoon dessert, we animatedly discussed various topics, including the upcoming release of the movie. We came up with the idea of searching for tickets for that night's midnight showing of the film and going to see it together. It took us about a half hour to find three tickets together on opening morning (one for Holly, one for Brent, and one for me), but when we finally did, we were ecstatic. Somewhere along the lines Holly came up with the idea of dressing up as Hogwarts pupils, and even though I made the disclaimer that Brent would not only NOT dress up with us, but that he would also be embarrassed to be seen with us, I readily agreed to the proposition. We spent about five minutes in each of our closets coming up with our outfits. I even had some wooden chopsticks from China that worked as our wands!

Quite a night to remember.

I don't think Holly or I should ever try out for acting...neither of our faces look very convincing here. I mean, do YOU sense that we're about to cast a spell on you?

I look more like a teacher reprimanding a student here than anything else.

Holls, I love you...but what kind of spell-casting form is that?

Uhoh.

Stews and Hungry Brothers

Last Friday night I made Boeuf Bourguignon Soup and Horseradish Chive Bread courtesy of the December 2010 issue of Martha Stewart Living. The soup was tasty as stews go, but not good enough that I will ever make it again. Brent and I have discovered that we are simply not beef stew people.

The bread was different, as you can imagine, with horseradish as the main ingredient. It was not unpleasant, and in fact, it was very good, but all three people who ate it that night decided they much prefer good ol' buttery garlic french bread.

My brother was the third taster that evening. Half of the french bread I prepared with butter, and the other half of it I prepared with a dairyless spread that was safe for my brother to eat. Before we served up, I announced to him that the right half of the loaf was safe for him, thinking he might want to take some home.

Nope, that is not how my brother thinks.

When he hears that a certain amount of food was set aside and intended just for him, he sees no reason to not eat it all in one sitting. It was such a surprise to turn around and see an entire half loaf of french bread on his plate! It made me laugh out loud.

Oh, and he finished every bite. In one sitting. In case you were wondering.

And I'm pretty sure he actually woke up with a tinier tush the next morning. How I despise track stars.

Miss Georgie Eloise

As many of you know, my niece is living with my mom and dad this month, allowing my sister, Heather, to get an extended time of rest while battling Lyme disease. Even though it's heart-breaking that Georgie must be separated from her parents for these weeks, we are loving having her down here with us!

I want to share a story that I think Heather will get a kick out of, and perhaps a few of you might giggle through as well. It's one of those stories that MIGHT be a "you have to be there" tale, so please bear with me as I try to relate the hilarious events.

Further disclaimer...the situation I'm about to relate was experienced through turkey goggles by everyone involved; it occured on the evening of Thanksgiving, after consuming large amounts of turkey, and I don't believe I was the only slap-happy person in the room. Therefore, the story may not be as funny as I remember it to be.

But here goes.

I was sitting on the couch with a Georgie on my lap, playing and talking with me. All of the sudden, she very seriously asked me to open my mouth. I obliged. After looking deeply into my mouth, she further asked me to stick out my tongue. Again, I obliged. This produced a frown in the 3 1/2 year old face and these announcements: "Ewwww, your tongue is kind of dirty. Let me go get a wipe to clean it."

I laughed as she hopped off my lap and secretly hoped something would distract her along the way to getting a wipe. But nothing did. Less than a minute later she reappeared on my lap with a wipe.

"Would you please open your mouth?"

Laughter, then, "No, you can't clean my tongue with a wipe!"

"Please! It's really dirty!" (Starts prying my mouth open)

I'm giggling so hard that I'm having a hard time resisting the little hands that want to get inside my mouth. Eventually my mouth submits and falls open, but the thought of a wipe on my tongue is so revolting that my head instinctively backs away.

"Please! Hold still! I need to clean your tongue!"

More laughter. And more attention from around the room has started to point toward our corner.

Finally Georgie wins the battle and starts scrubbing my tongue. I'm having a hard time doing anything but laughing and making a sour face.

Georgie then backs off the tongue, and takes a comprehensive glance at the rest of my face. She sees my eyeshadow and decides it's dirty and needs to be washed off. She proceeds about her business in a manner that suggests she has never heard the word "gentle," much less knows the meaning of it, and occasionally pauses to get a better grip of my head and to exasperatingly command, "Please! Stop laughing! I need to clean your face! Stop laughing!"

By this time the tears have started flowing (I always cry when I laugh). Also, by this time the entire room is focused on the little girl and her intense obsession with my face's cleanliness.

My unhelpful family started suggesting other parts of my head that might be really dirty...my ears, my nose.

Oh, my nose. The little girl, with a serious face, had to crouch on my lap to peer up my nostrils, then took her wiped and scrubbed them out.

The whole room was roaring, and I was defenseless as a result of my giggling.

Georgie leaned back and took another comprehensive glance at my face, then declared, "You need to flow some water out of your eyes to wash away the tears."

I fell over into Brent laughing. When I sat back up, Georgie was trying to hide a smile. When the room's laughter had died down, she finished with, "Maybe not!" ???

I don't know. After writing all of this out, I'm realizing it's SO not a blogworthy story. But at least I'll have it forever recorded for my own sweet memory's sake.

Penny

We have officially named the kitten: Penny. Thank you for all of your suggestions...they were all super cute. Brent was determined that her name be short and easy to say, and when he thought of Penny, the name just stuck. We went through a few other options before discovering the winner.

BTW, even though she has an official name, she gets called "this little one" or "the kitten" more often than anything else. And she gets called "sweetness" a lot by me.

Penny and PDub are now officially friends...best friends at that. It took two days of PDub absolutely detesting the ground she walked on and three consequent days of PDub being pretty sure we got her as his girlfriend (thank goodness both cats are fixed) before they discovered that they are perfect pals to play and cuddle with. Penny absolutely adores PDub and loves to interact with him, standing up on her hind legs to hug him around the neck and bite his cheek many times a day. PDub seeks out the little one many times a day for a good wrestle, and often I will find them playing with the same toy.

Penny does have a few faults.

1) She's smelly. If you dig your nose into her fur, it's actually quite appalling. We plan on giving her a bath, but we want her to heal up completely from her surgery first. Her breath is putrid, and her farts are deadly. She graces everyone with a little S.B.D. just about every time they hold her.

But we love her anyway.

2) She loves walking on our faces at night, trying to wake us up to be interactive in our cuddling with her. We've had to banish her to the living room at night lately so that we can get good rest.

3) Any time she sees a plate with human food on it, she charges onto the lap of whoever is eating it, puts her little paws on it, and starts snacking. That is, if you let her. If you don't let her, then it's a constant exhausting battle during the entire meal to keep her away from your plate. Brent and I suspect that her foster mom allowed her to eat human food off the plate...this cat just does not get it. We're working on this characteristic. In the meantime, enjoy these videos.

Thanks for your time, folks!