Finally! A new mistress.

The search was exhausting.

The search was torment.

The search was arduous.

The search took us from sea to shining sea.

(By sea I mean tears...His wimpering and sniffling got old.)



But FINALLY, he has found the Perfect Girl to replace the tramp that plagued my life for far too long.



I may even partake in a menage trois now and then just to get the job done if need be!



Meet Red Toro. His new love.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I should have known you'd do a bang-up job. She's pretty. She's clean. She's respectable. And best of all her reputation is irrefutable. Congratulations Big Shooter on a fantastic choice.

It might just be a redneck date, if...

the entire 4 hours is spent perusing the aisles of Wal*Mart together.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Wooo Eeeee!! You sure can show a girl a good time! How'd I get so dang lucky??

Things you see on the road.

Have I ever shared with y'all how much I'd love, love, LOVE to homeschool on the road?

Sell the house. Buy a motor home. Be nomads across this beautiful country of ours...I'd teach the little Crumb Snatchers a lesson on a certain place or activity while Big Shooter was driving there.

Talk about a real life education!

I have to say, however, each time we fantasize about it...

this is not quite the car I'd always imagined us driving around to explore in.

Now it is.

However, that was not really what I wanted to show you.
See that truck coming up behind me in the mirror?
Well, he's carrying a real important load.

How do I know?
Easy.
It said so.


That yellow strip right under the doors and above his bumper told us what prized load he was transferring across state lines.

The blurry words say,

"CAUTION - PRIZE CHICKENS"

(gulp) I am coming up for air in a day or two...

Hello Bloggydom!
I let Big Shooter move back in, so the Shooter household seems to be getting back to normal. Okay, normal enough...
I'm planning on jumping back into the mix in a coupla days or so.

I've missed y'all!

Can't wait to hear what you've been up to...

What's another name for Who-ha and/or the Nether Reigns?

Note to Male Readers, my Dad and Sashi: The following info will most likely get too personal and graphic for your sensibilities. Trust me: Stop reading now. If you don't...all I can say is, "I told you so."

I ask the question in the title because Girl Child, the one who has always referred to her who-ha by it formal, scientific name, was completely embarrassed and appalled when I said, "pelvis" today in the swimming pool.
"Mommmmmy! Don't say that so loud!!"
At first I was confused. Then the origin of her confusion dawned on me. Or so I thought.
"Oh honey it's okay, I said pel-vis, not pe-nis."
"I know. Pe-nis is okay. But don't say that other word so loud...or at all. Please?" she begged while looking around mortified to see who had heard me utter such a vulgar word in public.

Pelvis.
I can see the look on her face right now. She'll probably still be mortified at 80 when someone says it's time for their yearly pelvis exam.

There are just certain words in every person's life that can light their face up like a cherry no matter their age.

I can't personally think of any right now for myself...but, when I was younger? Oh yes. There were plenty. Any of the names my spawn now use for certain body parts would have sent me into hiding for a year. Any thing that had to do with that pesky monthly visitor, Mrs. Flow, would have me quivering in the corner as well.

I am trying to keep this in mind as the Crumb Snatchers are obviously reaching an age where certain familiar or everyday terms are becoming landmines. I don't want to embarrass them on purpose (well, that's a big, fat lie right there), so I am seeking advice from others on what is, was or will most likely be some touchy words, subjects, topics in the very near future from your own personal experiences.

Do you remember yours? How did you successfully navigate them or with your kiddos?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know all the great little tidbits my sweet readers are going to leave are going to be like candy to you...but, please, please try to restrain yourself. At least until the Crumbs are teens when they'll totally just die.

Archie and Friends have Jughead, We have Knothead

Ugly Comment to Baby Sister + A Good Clobberin'= Big Boo Boo

Just kiddin'.

Boy + Wall = Big Boo Boo

Next day = Tough Guy Look

It actually looks worse each day as time goes on.

But Boy Child has had enough of the picture takin' for now.

Yes, that is a skeleton hanging behind him.

We're those weird homeschoolers.

You never know what you'll find in our humble abode.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks for staying awake past your bedtime to spend a coupla extra hours with me. Wow! Keep this up for a little bit and you'll be able to make it to 10:30!!

Yep. I was born 40 years ago today.

I hadn't really thought it through. The whole turning 40 thing. So when Girl Child asked me what my birthday post was going to be about for the 40th ever-lovin' time, I figured maybe I should put a little thought into it.

It didnt' work.

I came up with nada.

And then in swooped The Good Flea to save the day!

She awarded me this little do hickey:


She says I have to tell you ten "juicy honest things" about myself. So I figure let's name 40, one for each year and then call it a day.
I have a feeling it may get ugly by the end... Just know I loved you all. This will be the last time some of you visit.

1. If I don't tweeze my chin daily (okay twice, daily) I can grow a perfect foo man chu beard.
2. Feet gross. me. out. Don't touch me with your toes if you want to keep them. I am serious.
3. I locked myself in my aunt's bathroom and smoked a pack of my uncle's cigs when I was like 11 or 12. Never had the desire to smoke again.
4. Although, I LOVE the smell of clove cigarettes.
5. I am the World's Worst House Keeper. I abhor cleaning. I only do it out of necessity. Bare necessity at that.
6. I wish I could re-do my wedding day. I would beg Big Shooter to elope.
7. I lost two babies before Boy Child. My heart still yearns for them over a decade later.
8. I don't like men. Big Shooter is one of very few I care to be around longer than say 60 seconds. The other two are my dad and Big Shooter's dad. I mean c'mon! Who wouldn't love someone who takes advantage of anyone and everyone who is gullible enough to believe all he says...like how to gut a deer for example.
9. I am utterly and helplessly frightened of the dark. If I was in a pitch dark room I believe I would keel over from fright. Seriously.
10. Yet, I loved haunted houses and hay rides growing up. Go figure.
11. I've been so angry at Big Shooter I have walked out.
12. Only to return for my toothbrush "that I forgot".
13. Sometimes I can't live with him!
14. But I could never live without him more!
15. Speaking of Big Shooter, sometimes I wonder if he's truly okay with having dated one girl, proposing to one girl, marrying her, and staying with just her. (It's suppose to be honest and juicy here people. I'm being real.)
16. 97% of the time I am thrilled to be Boy & Girl's momma. It's that other 3% that worries me. Shames me. Makes me wonder what the heckfire I was thinking?!
17. I don't get the whole wanting to have a natural birth thing. When it was discovered I couldn't give birth naturally and ended up having c-sections, I was thrilled. THRILLED people.
18. Here's where I ran into the lack of memory problem and had to send out an all points emergency bulletin to friends and family both far and near to ask for their help in telling me, reminding me or brushing away a few cobwebs in my memory in order to help me think of things to share in order to get to the magic 4-0. My Granny Grunt reminded me I believed Hook, Line and Sinker the way to tell a newborn animal's sex was by the color of it's eyes. I and my dear cousin would stand at the fence for hours trying to get the new baby calves to look at us in just the right sunlight so we could tell...
19. When my beloved Gramps died, the same uncle I stole and smoked his cigs came and picked me up from a country saloon at closing time. He never said a word other than, "You're gonna be okay honey," each time he had to pull over to let me hurl. He helped me up the steps of my mother's house. He hugged me each time I burst into tears. I was 37.
20. When I was with Sashi at a MOPS meeting giving a JBF talk, I fell off the stage. I was carrying a card table in front of me and just stepped off into nothingness. When I came to a stop, it was deathly quiet and Sashi was staring down at me with eyes the size of saucers while the 40+ women in the room didn't move. They were speechless and frozen. She helped me up, grabbed her supplies and ran out the door. I thought she was just in a hurry. Nope. When I got to the van, she had her head stuck as far into the van as she could reach and was SNORTING with laughter. I can't drive by or near that church to this day without her spitting pop out her nose with the memory.
21. I volunteered to greet and pass out name badges at our Crumbs special presentation day at school their first year. (before homeschooling) It was a muckety muck event with muckety mucks present all morning. Just before curtain time I snuck in to sit with Big Shooter and enjoy our wee ones song and dance. He'd chose to sit in the front row, center. Of course. I had to bend over and do the hunch back walk over to him in full view of everyone. When I got to him I realized I'd have to step over a bench saved for the teachers. I am 5 feet and 1 inch tall and I was wearing a long skirt. I had two choices. Walk back in front of everyone or hike my skirt up a bit. I should have walked back in front of everyone. Then they couldn't have all heard the seam of my skirt rip as I fell over the bench into my loving husband's arms. It did not end there however. I had to help clean up the welcoming area when it was finished. As another new mom and I sat down on a bench outside to wait for our husbands to drive around and pick us up she looked over and said, "Mrs. Shooter, I don't think I've laughed that hard in a while...and your day just keeps getting better by the minute. It looks like you have two different shoes on." I looked down. Sure enough. In my haste to get out of the house I slid on one brown and one black shoe. She said, "If you're always this much entertainment, I think we'll be great friends." We still are after all these years.
22. The 6 months preceding our wedding I was in Idaho doing wedding things and working while Big Shooter was living in Okie-homa. Once a week I would practice my almost nil culinary skills on my soon to be FIL. His most memorable meal was suppose to be called Chicken Enchiladas. He lovingly refers to it as Pile of Garlic with a dash of Chicken. There are no longer any vampires in the state of Idaho.
23. The first few months of marriage Big Shooter did not fare any better. One night I cooked Teriyaki Chicken Wings for him. I'd made it many times. He loved them. I grew arrogant in my newly found skills and neglected to follow the basic cooking rule of Don't Drink and Cook. I vaguely remember Big Shooter waking me and asking me what was supposed to be in the oven. We had pungent aroma of Burnt Teriyaki seared into every fabric, upholstery and even the paint for months.
24. I had brain surgery a few years back...I needed that like I needed a hole in my head.
25. While looking at my scans my neurologist with that most fabulous bedside manner reported I had an unremarkable brain.
26. I can't seem to cook bacon without my built-in timer. a.k.a. A smoke alarm
27. I cannot tolerate any kind of skin trauma. Doesn't seem to matter if it is a paper cut or a ten inch gash. I'll see you again when I wake up.
28. I worked the steering wheel and gear shift while my younger cousin worked the pedals whenever we stole my gramps old international pickup and tore down the lane. Problem was, he'd have to come rescue us b/c I could never quite conquer reverse on my own. We were 9 and 6.
29. Did you know you can rip the back bumper off a caddy if you back in to a parking space too far over the cement barrier? Well you can.
30. Have sadly passed on my irrational bawling, squawling, hissy-fit throwing when I get hurt gene to my very unassuming and innocent Girl Child.
31. i thoughtfully christened Big Shooter's new truck for him after he'd had it for two weeks. It was in the repair shop for almost two months.
32. Got my second speeding ticket going to the bank to withdraw $ to pay my first speeding ticket.
33. Regularly gave swirlies to my Jr. High neighbor Shirley. (Now before you get all righteous on me, she did it willingly. I don't know why? I don't like to dwell on it. She just did.)
34. Went to minor emergency for a pregnancy test the first time we suspected we might be expecting.
35. Belly laugh at least once a day. Every day.
36. Spent my entire honeymoon in a hospital.
37. Ran hurdles. Did I mention I'm 5'1?
38. Love, love, love to watch boxing. Share a birthday with Oscar De LaHoya. Mmm. Mmm!
39. Married the love of my life and had his spawn.
40. Love my life.

That wasn't so bad. Congrats if you got this far!

I realized as I was typing, some of these would be great posts. If you have any in particular you'd like me or Big Shooter to elaborate on, please let us know in the comments. Who knew this would lead to that most precious commodity to bloggers...blog fodder. Cool.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for taking yet another trip down Memory Lane with me. I always get a renewed appreciation for you when I have to face what you do every day being my soul mate! (Heh. As if I haven't earned my crown and all the jewels in Heaven being your cell, oops soul mate as well!)

Easy Peezy Post

I am working on a post that is an emotion toll taker for me, so I needed a fluff post for today y'all. I think it will be ready for tomorrow.

In the mean time, I realized my dear, sweet, very missed friend Far Out Mom was right. I don't publish pics of myself very often. And I know how I do love it when other blog authors do. So for your entertainment (and my peace of mind) - more pictures from our Poe Dunk day excursion. (with a couple extra of me)

Do all boys do this? Or is mine showing unnatural early signs of something ominous??

In contrast, see how Girl Child is holding the buffalo's muzzle like it is living...?

Just my sweet, sweeet Boy again. (Sigh)...and my dirt lovin', leaves in her hair, bug huntin' Girl again. (sigh) (again)

Gratuitous pics.

Yes. There is that much difference.

He is 6'4.

I am 5'1, on a good day.

The end.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I always forget,until I see a picture, how much we really do look like Mutt & Jeff. Heh.

My real surreal day in Poe Dunk

So apparently I wasn't too clear yesterday.

Let me clarify.

• Big Shooter really does sleep walk.
• However, he was not sleep walking when he invited us to Poe Dunk at 4:00am.
• There really was a car in a lobby of one of the stores his company owns.
• I had pictures of it because I was really there at like 8:00am.

Hope that helped someone.

It really just sounds even more surreal to me.

Speaking of which...

What do you do in Poe Dunk with two youngin's while waiting for Big Shooter to wrestle up a carpenter, supplies, and deal with policemen trying to solve the mystery. (To add to the confusion of yesterday's post: The car was found still running & unoccupied.) Can you imagine the allure and excitement all four officers were experiencing? They were positively giddy!

Anyways...the question was: What to do with two Crumbs who have had little sleep, a looong car ride, no breakfast and the excitement of destruction at 8:00am Saturday morning in Poe Dunk, Oklahoma?

Why you luck out and are able to attend the region's largest annual Folk Fest this side of the Mississippi that just happens to be opening up at 9:00am a few miles up the beautiful winding road!

I'd never been to a Folk Fest before. It's not that I don't like Folks. I love 'em. It's just not something I ever thought to say to Big Shooter before. "Love, I hear there's a giant Folk Fest going on somewhere in the South every weekend and by golly it sounds like some rip roarin' fun! Let's go."

My expectations were not raised however when the parking attendant said, "The pick-up spot for the shuttle is right over there..."

And this was the shuttle to take us up the hill.

It didn't get any better when I read the name of the next entertainers either.

(It says Skirtlifters if you can't read it.)

And I wasn't quite sure about the mental stability of the majority of people in attendance. Most of them were retirees and lots of them were pushing strollers for this reason.

But then we saw art pieces like this.
It was magnificent.
Carved by hand. The details were stunning. I should have stood a Crumb Snatcher next to it for comparison. It was over 5 feet tall and 3 feet wide.

Then there were people like this guy. He was making a broom. Others were spinning yarn, working a loom, sewing with a pedal powered sewing machine, making lye soap, giving hatchet throwing lessons (much to Boy Child's delight), giving fiddle lessons...on and on it went.
This tree sprang up out of the earth in 1646 and lived through WWII y'all. Just reading the facts and events it had lived through was worth the trip. Seeing the dawning on the Crumb Snatchers' faces as they began to realize the longevity and significance trees have on our society was worth the trip. I need to have them guest post on all the products we consume that have to do with wood. Unbelievable.Then there were the crafts. Oh, the fabulously talented craftsmen.
But did I get a picture of the incredible basket maker, the blown glass guy, or the intricate wood carver?
No. But, apparently in my sleep deprived state I felt this sign was of some significance because I took no less than 5 shots of it trying to get the saying and the light just right I guess.
I can't even read the whole thing it's so blurry.
But, maybe it will speak to someone out there in Bloggyland.

(I am positive what ever it says, it is gag-a-rama, and I don't really do gag-a-rama. Ask Saucy Sashi.)

They even had a petting zoo with Folksy animals to occupy two sleep deprived and kinda cranky Crumbs.

Right next to the petting zoo and the hatchet throwing was this Cherokee guy. He played his hand carved flute and spoke for at least 10 minutes to just Girl Child. She asked a bajillion ??'s and was enamoured by him.

(I have a video of him playing for her if I could just figure out how to post it!)

She wanted me to take a picture of her outside this period cabin. The pic did not turn out what we had hoped. The dirt used as mortar between the logs was truly Oklahoma red dirt. Not so much in the pic though.

(If you love my new fall purse in the background, leave a nice comment. If you agree with Saucy Sashi that it looks like her Granny's curtains or sofa or something she'd love, don't leave a comment.)

It was abundantly apparent to me Boy Child's attention span was OVER by this point.

It was his idea to take our pic, but he would not smile...

forgive what we look like.

We got up and ready (well, actually I never got undressed from the day before) and out of the house by 4:20 am.

(If you are wondering, that was a leaf that fell just as I pushed the shutter, not a weird growth on my neck...)

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I tell you what - you sure know how to show your fam a great time. We always love going with you on your little jaunts. If anything, they are always memorable.

Have I ever mentioned Big Shooter sleep walks?

Yeah. He does. It is fuh-reek-HEE! He will have his eyes open and carry on a full blown conversation with ya...until you finally catch on he's juuuust not quite firing on all cylinders.
That's what happened a couple Friday nights ago.
He comes out at 4am (I couldn't sleep...so I was up reading blogs. Hmmm, there's a stretch.) and says, "So, can you think of any reason you'd like to go to Poe Dunk, Oklahoma?"
I, thinking he is sleepwalking, encourage him with, "Ab-suh-lutely! I've been dying to get there. What's the occasion?"
He says very matter of factly, "There's a car in the lobby," turns and heads toward the bathroom.
I chuckle to myself and wonder how long it'll be before he wakes up and staggers back into the living room asking me what I'm doing up so I can ask him what he's doing up...
I wait.
And wait.
I hear water in the sink.
I hear the hair dryer.
I hear more water...
I wander in, put my hand on his arm and say, "Sweetie...Darlin'. You need to wake up."
He turns and looks me straight in the face and says, "I'm awake." Long pause, then, "The question is: Are you?"
Stunned I finally ask what he is doing.
To which he says s-l-o-w-l-y, "I'm. getting. ready. to. go. to. Poe. Dunk. I thought you and the Crumbs were coming. It sounded like you wanted to..."
"You were serious?!" I screech.
With the big-eyed DUH look he says, "Umm, yeeeah." S-l-o-w-l-y again, "Therrre's a car in. the. lobbb-by."
Oops.

After several hours of clean-up and fast carpentary work to get the gaping hole covered.

I guess the driver was thinkin' Arby's.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know you don't always get a kick out of some of the things/situations you deal with on a day to day basis...but, they are gold for a stay-at-home-momma/blogger. Thank you for the fodder Love.

Puh-leeze tell me ya remember!

The human brain is a remarkable living computer!
I love, love, LOVE to watch my kiddos' brains work.
Now Big Shooter would lovingly disagree about the fact the Boy Child's brain works on all cylinders - all the time. I do not chastise him when ever he says such things because I have the distinct feeling he is speaking from experience...not judgement.
Back to my little story.
I do not remember now what brought this little ditty to mind, but in the middle of a lesson I started singing, "Allllmond Joy has nuts...Peter Paul Mounds don't. Beeeeecause...sometimes you feel like a nut. And sometimes ya don't!" I glanced up to big eyed silent stares. And if you know anything about the Crumbs - they are not quiet.
After several seconds, I shrugged and asked, "Whuh? What's the problem?"
To which I was promptly answered with more shocked staring.
"Haven't you ever heard that song," I asked wondering when the last time I heard it was.
They both just slowly shook their little blond bobs at me.
"C'mon! You have to have heard it! I grew up hearing it!" Could I get any more lame in my attempts to convince myself I am not old?!! Good Grief!
All at once they both broke into giggles and asked where I'd heard it.
"Are you serious?! I grew up with that song playing on the TV. Every momma my age knows that song."
So they called Sashi.
After much warming up and encouraging she sang it to the absolute delight of the Crumb Snatchers.
Then they called Soul Sis.
She belted it out on their first request, no questions asked.
Then they experimented and called Daddy to see if the Dads my age might know it too.
He did. Again, no questions asked. They practically fell on the floor in a heap of giggly jello.

Side Note: It made me wonder just now typing those last few sentences.
Why is Sashi the only one of these three people who love my kiddos, concerned about what is going on in my house and wondering why my kids are calling out of the blue to ask to hear the nut song? Hmmm.

What a fun trip down Memory Lane for the Crumbs to travel with me...and Daddy and others. They asked to hear every song I could remember when I was a child around their ages.
I sang the "My bologna has a first name...it's M-a-y-e-r. My bologna has a second name...it's..."song. I hummed the Peanuts theme. I sang, "Conjunction ... function.. that's your... nuh-amme. Conjunction ... function ...what's your... guh-amme?" song too. I tried to make the Six Million Dollar Man sound effects...to no avail. I hummed the Dallas theme too.
I couldn't remember very many of them though.
I was hoping you could so we could sing, hum, pretend, whatever for them?
They loved this little game!!!
Leave me a comment and then have a FABULOUS weekend y'all!!

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Heeeey Big Shooter, whaaaat cha got cookin'? Hooooow's about coooookin' somethin' uuuup for meeeee???

Untitled

I wasn't sure whether to call this post:

* Got Called Chubby by Amish Granny While Pickin' Up Our Hawg Today.
* Son Ducked Down in Backseat From Embarrassment Caused by Mom Today
* According to the Cookies: Obama Will Be Our Next POTUS
* Did I REALLY Miss the Last Faux Debate Tonight?
* Yes, I Did. And Strangely, I Don't Care...

Here's our day...

~ Taught my youngins' the subjects that need teachin' at home, well...at home. So we could take a road trip while they finished the rest.

~ Took them to our fave bakery to buy them a Political Cookie. The Best Bakery In The Free World keeps a runnin' tally of how many Republican and Democrat candidate cookies they sell. It is very competitive and very precise...and delicious, ahem.

~ Drove to a very small town to pick up a hog our fam is splittin' halfsies with Sashi's fam. Homeschool was in full swing at this joint...Oh. My. Word. So many questions. So many disgusting questions. I now know why curiosity killed the cat. I almost paid the kill fee two more times...

~ Had to stop at the Local Seed and Feed to ask a group of men standing around the back of a truck jawin' for a direction clarification. After thanking the gentlemen and beginning to drive away, Boy Child pops up from a prone position in the back of the Excursion and says, "Okay, you can make my acquaintance again." It took me a sec. Then it dawned on me. "Were you lying down hiding back there while I asked for directions?" His answer, "Uh, YEAH! Hel-lo Mommy (I loved the Mommy part) you just pulled up to a bunch of MEN you didn't know, inter-rupted them, and let them know you were lost...or whatever you were..." Speechless. I was just speechless. Girl Child wasn't. She piped up, "Are you serious Boy Child ?!? Why? Just tell me. I want to know why you were embarrassed???" I just looked at her, shrugged and added, "If you figure that one out Sister...you'll be considered a genius."

~ Had the bright idea since I was in Amish Country to stop in and find a date our homeschool group could go out and dine with them in December. Granny Fanny (her real name btw) at one point was referring to the two of us and said, "You understand honey. You're chubby too." I started to snort. Snort loud. I only stopped because of the horrified look on my Crumb Snatchers faces. Is it bad to snort in front of the Amish? Do they know something at they're tender age about the Amish I do not? I have not been called Chubby since...I can't even remember people. I am not chubby. I am fat. It just cracked me up. Girl Child told me later she was proud of me for not correcting "the nice fat granny because she would have found out she was fat too...not chubby." My sweet Girl. Always looking out for the fat people of the world.

~ On our way home I stopped at a vegetable stand. If I just stopped typing there it wouldn't be interesting. But this vegetable stand was at lease 4-5 miles from the nearest small town off a very busy country highway. Nothing around. Nothing. Just a little pop-up tent thingy and a table loaded with veggies. There were no cars or trucks. Not even for the lady running it. We pulled up (after I glanced over, saw it, jammed the brakes, and Boy Child got slammed by 250 pounds of frozen HAWG sliding forward) and when I opened the door to get out I forgot I was in the very tall, Giant Gas Hog and fell out into the dirt. Bam! All I heard was ruckus, loud, hold-your-belly laughing from the Crumbs. I shoulda paid the Kill Fee a few hours before... The little lady turned out to be some sort of Asian decent and started shouting towards me. I still don't know if she was saying, "Oh my! Are you okay?" or "You idiot. That's what you get for driving a gas hog you Chubby housewife!" Since I couldn't understand anything she was saying I couldn't communicate the cost of anything either. So finally I pulled out the cash I had left in my wallet. (It was a measly $7.75 since I bought a drink at the butcher's place to get my children's mouths occupied with something other than questions. And then the fleecing I endured at Granny Fanny's buying her Chicken Base, her granddaughter's beaded jewelry for Girl Child and a Granny Fanny Cookbook.) Anyway, I handed the little lady the cash and after much pointing she handed me a giant bag of fresh from her garden green beans, a big bag of tomatoes and a bag of cukes! Fresh from the red dirt of an Oklahoma garden. For $7.75. It was by far, the best part of my day. Sans the embarrassing fall into the said Red Dirt.

~ The final straw, the last feather in my hat, the thing that pushed me over the brink (and helped me forget about the debates) was I witnessed a horrifying scene. (If I could plug my ears, say "blah, blah, blah", cover my eyes and still type, I would.) The girl Terrorist is no longer biting my beloved BDP...she is trying to...well, mount him...constantly. Yorkie on Pug action is not what I had in mind for the evening's entertainment. Keeping her occupied for the evening so he could rest was my final act of the evening.

I am going to bed now. I need some kind of yoga technique to clear my brain. I am not sure which part of my day could cause the most traumatic dream...there seems to be a whole plethora to chose from.

Now that you've endured thus far. I am offering a small prize (Arbonne Ginger Citrus Body Butter) for the best title of this post. Thank you and Good Night.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I so hope you like pork...for so many different reasons...

Tried to bribe a police officer

I have a story to tell you this week about last week.
I couldn't tell you any sooner because 1) Big Shooter was out of town last week. And 2) I couldn't keep my heart rate below 200 whenever I thought of it.

Here are the basic facts:

* The Crumb Snatchers were in bed asleep. Girl in her bed in the front of the house. Boy in mine in the back of the house.

* I was sitting in the living room, near the front windows, typing on the laptop.

* No question about it, someone tried to get in my front door. Plain as day. Not maybe.

* Some of you know this about me, some of you don't, some of you have been with me when the Mama Bear kicks in to overdrive.

* I took off at a dead run to the back of the house to git me one of them guns...

* Only to discover one was "missing" from my secret, need-it-for-safety-purposes-right now-spot and the other I remembered I'd loaned to my dad.

* Turns out, Big Shooter still had my Glock in his car from the lake weekend. (He informed me of this when I called him not so calmly asking of it's where abouts...)

* He strongly suggested I call 911.

* What a novel idea.

* I somewhat calmly informed the dispatcher I was here alone with two young children and I'd appreciate an officer here RIGHT NOW. Thank you.

* She asked if I had a weapon. I told her all I had was my hubby's old shotgun with no shells. (I was thinking, "Do I even know where that is?) She said, "That's okay. I'd still like you to get it out." Whuh?!!

* Uh...okay. That sent my blood pressure even higher.

* After I'd informed her I had the old rusty thing out she asked where I and the kiddos were in the house, reminded me to stay away from windows but to stay as centrally located as possible. I appreciated the reminder, but I had already turned on all the outside lights and off all the inside lights but one and was standing where I could easily see both doors with one small step.

* The officer arrived within 2 minutes, checked all around the outside, calmed my nerves a bit and promised to patrol through the night.

* I don't think I slept more than 50 minutes the rest of the night.

* The next day Taco Bandito (Saucy Sashi's hubby) hooked me up with a shotgun and shells for the remainder of Big Shooter's absence. Thank you Taco Bandito. I slept like a baby.

I learned many things from this experience.

1) The Brain Dead Pug was well, brain-dead when the chips were down. (He didn't bark until I lept off my chair and when running fora gun. Whata Watch Dog...I love that canine.) 2) Bad Guys can be scared away with an unloaded, rusty antique according to the dispatcher. 3) Under extreme stress I don't think past the basic "Over my dead body will you touch my cubs..." to call the police. 4) Taco Bandito has some serious home protection I am very envious of. 5) Officers cannot take even food gift cards as thank yous. That fact saddened me greatly the next day. I am so very grateful for/to this officer. We at least wanted to buy him dinner or lunch. The city looks at that like I am bribing or buying him...?

Um...Duh?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for staying calm, rational, and the Ultimate Protector even from afar of your little grateful fam. We are thrilled you are home.

Our power is being Cut Off Today.

We came home from visiting the newest little most precious member of Saucy's fam yesterday to a note hanging from our door basically saying, "Sorry we missed you. But since you're here now, here's the good news. Your house is in the middle of all the hub bub going on in the neighborhood. You know, all those giant utility trucks making the streets rumble and all the dogs within miles going nutzoid all the live long day? Well, we want to converge on your backyard...again...to work on the lines that also converge in your backyard... Oh, and by the way, your electrical service will be down from sunup to sundown. Hope that won't be an inconvenience? If it is. Take it up with this reliable 1-800 number. Smile and have a nice day."

So to hurry and get the *&%$ outta Dodge and spend a glorious day on Saucy's farm I am posting a cheater today. A GREAT cheater. But a cheater none the less...

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My precious friend Sheila had this great little bloggy quiz on her site a while back.
It couldn't be more perfect for the Shooter fam.
Other than, "Mommy can I go visit Eula Mae?" I hear, "Mommy, which would you rather be...a plain ole human? ...or a dog? (said with the utter most awe you can muster) And if you do, what kind? (said with complete wonder and awe)"
Well Girl Child do I have a quiz for you!

I took it and look what I am!

You are a Labrador Retriever!
Your family is what makes you tick, and you never "flea" from an opportunity to hang out with the whole gang. A family picnic complete with hot dogs, deviled eggs and a refreshing swim in the lake is hard for you to stray from. Your sparky temperament and dogged intelligence mean you are not only a blast to hang out with, but great to work with as well. Your close pals appreciate your patience and forgiveness, knowing you'd rather let sleeping dogs lie than dwell on the mishaps of the past. Your dashing good looks may one day lead to a modelling career, if only you can tame the unfortunate clumsiness that sometimes causes you to go flailing from the catwalk.

Hmmm....really? Sparky, not snarky? Dogged intelligence...no comment. I am great to work with. Did you read that Sashi? Pass that tidbit on to Taco Bandito would you please Darlin'? And my modeling career...I'm still patiently waiting for Lane Bryant's to send the call that gives me the Super Size Model nod. Now, the Unfortunate Clumsiness...I'm all over that one... I've seemingly passed it on to the Crumb Snatchers. As evidenced this past weekend.

I'd love to know what breed you are. Click on the lab and let me know!

Have a great day y'all.

I hope to be back tomorrow.

Apparently, that will be up to the Gods in the little white buckets...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am really starting to wonder how you manage to leave town at all the right moments? Seriously? Are you punishing me for somethin'? My dogged intelligence is working over time to figure out if you are. Snicker, snicker.

The Ants go Marching...

I am not even going to try getting them to bed at a decent hour any more. Something always happens. Always.

Tonight's Bedtime Delays were:

* Boy Child's live ants finally arrived. (We have been waiting since April...lots of delays due to temps, or the fact only two were alive the first delivery a couple weeks ago, blah, blah, blah.)

* And to top off the evening, Saucy Sashi became a brand spankin' new aunt again tonight. (We're not related...but, you wouldn't be able to tell that from Girl Child and my reactions/excitement.)

The following are horrible, grainy pics of the uber cool ant farm.

It has captured our attention like crazy. We cannot pull ourselves away!

Grandpa, we really think you should reconsider and keep your farm on your desk in your office. Way cool!I have been singing this song all evening, "The ants go marching 2 x 2,hurrah, hurrah. The ants go marching 2 x 2, hurrah, hurrah."

Post Publish Note for those parties interested: National Geographic Ant Farm Gel Colony
Harvester ants are found throughout the United States west of the Mississippi River, as well as in Florida. Normally they build large dirt mounds and feed on seeds, but the nutrient-rich gel in our amazing 3-D colony provides all the food and moisture they need. Watch your own colony of these industrious insects dig subterranean tunnels through translucent green agar in an entirely self-contained system. Includes mail-in coupon for live harvester ants. For ages 6 and up. 9''H x 12''W x 3 1/2''D.

Once again, VERY cool indeed. I highly recommend this as an upcoming Christmas gift. The lid is in no way coming off. Unless, we try to have loose ants, there is no danger of them escaping. We have already learned about community, determination, cooperation, the Secret Life of Ants, dilegence...the list goes on and on. They have already begun to tunnel.

Fabulous gift for someone who likes to watch nature work right before their eyes. (Visit site by clicking on pictures.)

Love Note to my Big Shooter: "Hey Baby, you got ants in your pants? Or are you just happy to see me...?"

Runny nose, watery eyes, scratchy throat, nasal congestion...

Sound familiar to anyone else?

When I looked up the pollen count in my neck of the woods this is what I found.

That'd be me right smack dab in the red.

A few days back Saucy Sashi called and asked how the Shooter Fam's allergies were. Then she shared a little interesting tid bit she'd just learned about allergies.

I'm guessing many of you will already know this. (I've since found out many did.) But, Sashi and I are on Cloud Nine.

She has a sweet, old bee keeper in her church that noticed her youngest Boy Child's red watery eyes and gave her a pint of his Fall Honey. Then proceeded to explain the basics to her about local pollen, allergies, and bees.

Makes perfect sense. The little buzzers gather and use the pollen in season that makes us all sick to make their honey. When people consume a little of that season's honey every day they begin to build up an immune to the pollen.

We have since found out that many people know this. The problem arises when they try to find a yocal bee keeper who can provide them with the different seasons' honey. The pollen used to make it has to be local to the person with the allergies otherwise they are just consuming a plain ole yummy sweet treat everyday.

That's where cute ole church goin' bee keeper comes in to save the day.

He's got enough to add a few more customers.

Between Sashi, the Shooters, and a few others we've shared the news I believe we'll have him cleaned out soon.

We'll let ya know.

If it doesn't work...the consolatory prize is: The honey we purchased is The Best Honey on the Planet!

Love Note to my Big Shooter: When was the last time I said "Thank You Love" for always looking out for us?