Richard Dean Anderson's Got Nothing On My Momma

My mother is to meals what MacGyver is to gettin' bad guys. However, what he can build with a paperclip and a toothpick is nothing to what my mom can do with an empty pantry. It wasn't always needed, but in a pinch, she could whip up amazing food with sparse supplies. Usually the only way we would know that she had to be creative that day was when, part way through the meal, she would ask each of us, individually, if we liked a particular item. For example, the mashed potatoes - instant in this case. Mom: Honey, how do you like the potatoes? Dad: They're good. Mom: Lis? They creamy enough? Me: Fine. Mom: And you Brother? You like them? Brother: Yeah, sure. Mom: They alright for you too Sister? Sister: Yep. Mom: Oh good. We didn't have any milk. So I used Mountain Dew. I was reminded of this last Sunday, when Prince Charming, Sister and I were at my parents for dinner. She is, apparently, still using such tactics. It all started off with: "So, now that everyone has tried it, what do you think of the chili?"

Where's The Fire?

Late last night we remembered that the firefighters would be coming around to check the sprinklers in the condo. They would begin at 7:00 am and on our floor. This translates to a stranger stepping into every room and even opening closet doors. My bedroom is not orderly enough, in my opinion, for my mother to enter let alone some stranger - though Prince Charming seems to forget that occasionally. So, anyway, we’re up at 7:00 this morning waiting for this to happen, when the fire alarm goes off. They warned us that it would be happening throughout the day, but we were surprised that it was the first thing they did. We figured it was used as a wake up call for everyone instead of having to pound on doors. Because the alarm is loud of course. Loud like a fire truck is actually in your front room. Loud like you fear your ears will begin to bleed. Well, they came, they saw, they left, and I went back to bed. The alarm went off again several more times. Funny thing is, snuggled under my duvet, I was still able to fall back asleep. That probably isn't such a good thing should an actual alarm sound…

I Don't Think My Moon Is Rising in Sagittarius...

It's a bad sign when your husband asks you if you have plans for the day or if anyone is coming over today simply because you dressed in something other than lounge pants and a T-shirt - or a house coat, depending on the mood. It isn't as if I'm not accomplishing things, I just do it in a more casual, comfortable, can't-answer-the-door-in-this manner. Nothing wrong with that. Right?

Quick Notes Of Interest - Even If Only To Me

My brother is home from Iraq. Happy days!

Read THAT book (Remember That Time). I'm happy to say the author obviously took note of my disappointment and has put me at ease concerning the direction of the character's love life. I can not wait for the next book. Obsessed once again.

Unemployed, but on a Pollyanna note: I'm working through my Bucket Booklist.

Must share excerpt from current read. A little bit of background: the main character has stopped by the home of an acquaintance because the girl has gone missing. She has rung the bell, but no one has answered...

"... I descended the porch steps, preparing to leave. A big white bird waddled up the flagstone path to meet me. Too fat for a swan, too white for a turkey, it was, I deduced, a goose.

'Hello, Goose,' I said, walking toward it.

The goose took exception to this, flapped its wings violently, and honked. I backed up. This was a mistake. The goose lunged at me, enraged, honking and hissing. I turned to get out of its way and stumbled over a rosebush, and the goose was on me, pecking my calf through my painter's pants. This hurt a lot more than one would think. I became a little enraged myself, and more than a little scared, and tried to kick the bird. As I was wearing Keds, the damage would've been minimal, but in any case, I missed. The goose came at me again. I swung at it with my backpack, missed again, and with my right hand slapped at it, connecting slightly. Then I turned and ran.

The goose, affronted by the slap, intensified its demented honking and came after me. We ran around to the back of the house, and I spotted the garage. It was a six-car garage, with five cars in residence. I jumped into the back of a pickup truck, a Toyota Tundra, and ducked.

I've been in some undignified situations in my life, but hiding from poultry was a low watermark. It worked, though. The goose gave a few more honks, but they lacked conviction. It must have seen me jump into the truck, but either geese have short memories or it felt I'd conceded the fight, because it waddled off toward the house. I know this because I peeked."

Is that not funny? I love it! Goose is later pate.

Listening to Austenland by Shannon Hale on my iPod. Tried to explain to Prince Charming, for the second time, why the Mr. Darcy character is so wonderful. Especially when we, at the beginning, believe he is such a bastard. We watched Pride and Prejudice at one of my wedding showers. It is funny, but my cousin's wife didn't get the Mr. Darcy appeal either. That is, until he shows his first smile. Then Bam! she was hooked too. Prince Charming refuses to watch the movie. He doesn't get it. Must be a female thing.

Had lunch with some friends a few weeks ago. My fortune cookie was insightful: "A SHORT STRANGER WILL SOON ENTER YOUR LIFE". A short stranger? A short stranger? Since when are fortunes that specific? I'm pretty short myself, so it must be a child or a midget or something. Stranger danger.

Remember That Time...

Remember that time I ranted about a book? Well, FYI, the next book in the series is out. I've reserved it at the library. All I can say is it better explain some things or I might... well, I don't know what I might do, but I guarantee it won't be pretty.

Husbands, If Nothing Else, Are... Wait, What's the Word I'm Looking For?

Husbands are difficult to buy for.

Or is that just me?

Prince Charming has a birthday soon. A week away. Six days to be exact. No, only five because I'm not shopping for his gift on Sunday. I also don't want to be wrapping it all nice and pretty... er, handsome just to have it opened ten minutes later. I hate that. So, do I have a gift? No. Do I have any idea what to get him? No. Am I worried? No... okay, yes.

Last year, my family and I gave him an iPod. Four months later, for Christmas, he gave me an iPod. My iPod will tune the radio. His won't. He was SO ticked about that. Today I ask him what he'd like for his birthday. Which I swore to myself I wouldn't do, because he always says things that I'm not going to get him and then he's disappointed when he doesn't get them. Makes me feel bad though I'm still not going to get them so why should I put him and myself through that crap? Don't ask. But I did. Can you guess what he says? Oh yeah, he tells me he wants an iPod that will tune the radio. Which I tell him straight up he isn't getting - maybe that solves the guilt thing I mentioned before, but still leaves me with no idea for a gift.

I know that I should be adult and responsible and get him something that he needs, like pants or underwear or church-going clothes. Yet I don't want to. I want to get him something he never knew he wanted, but when he sees it, he can't imagine not having wanted it before! Yes, I am actually embarking on my own trip to insanity. I hear it is a one-way ticket.

Excuse me. I Do Have An Excuse.

It is official. I have been reprimanded. It has been greater than a month since I've blogged. A dear friend informed me that I highly recommended my blog to her and then have ceased to post. Apparently I'm at the bottom of her blog list. I shutter at the thought. (Love you Sam)

Mind you, I don't really have an excuse. I've discovered who some of my readers are and it makes it harder to write. Writers block...? Stage shy...? I don't know. My own fault of course. I love to tell people I have a blog... I love to hear that they think I'm funny, or clever, or great, or anything as long as it is good. Narcissistic much?

Right. On to an actual post; however, it is not necessarily one full of wit: Prince Charming lost his job. Sucks. He is not good at looking for a new one either. Really sucks actually. Raise your hand if you have to hold your husbands hand and walk him through something. No, seriously, I'd like to know if this is the norm. He doesn't know what he wants to do, which I totally understand, but that doesn't help much.

We are going to be fine though. Positive attitude and all. We have made some changes in what we do/spend, which I think is wise regardless of his working status. I think he is most sad at having to cut out going to the movies and purchasing DVDs. He really misses that (as if he has been unemployed for ages - which he hasn't). We have to pick and choose which new releases we will see and then have to work out if we are going to go to a matinee or wait until it is in the dollar theater or at Redbox. 3D movies are totally nixed, even the early show is pricey. Sigh... I really wanted to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D.

What is worse than my Prince Charming losing his quest? His horse really REALLY needs to be put to pasture. He mentioned that his car was smoking a little and smelled like something was burning. He drove me to pick up my car yesterday... smoking a little??? His car is doing more than that! It is a holy crap, are you sure we are not going to blow up, chain smoker. It died twice when he was trying to leave. He assured me that once he is on the freeway its fine, no smoke. Uh, hello? That is because you're driving fast. If he gets, no wait... WHEN he gets a new job, he won't even have reliable transportation. No question, he absolutely needs a new car. Anyone know of an inexpensive, good car for sale, please let me know.

On a side note. Just to add salt to the wound. My brother is being deployed to Iraq. I support him and have great gratitude to those who fight for freedom, but I really don't want my brother to go. Selfish? Yes. Do I care? No.