It's almost Pope time!

As much as I dread dragging those big 'ole tubs of holiday crap out of that attic, I am looking forward to setting up the train village again. Man, I love those teeny tiny reindeer, wee train-folk, and my favorite--the miniscule Pope outside the HO gauge KFC.

I even found a set of hobos for the train this year, which I am waiting to receive any day. I hope they have chick hobos, 'cuz I'm gonna name them Petula and Lin, unless we come up with cool hobo names like Boxcar Chicky and Switchtrack Sue. I like hobo names, but every one I come up for us gals just ends up sounding like an exotic dancer--I've got to work on that. Names, I mean, not exotic dancing.

I haven't put many decorations up in the house yet, mainly because I got a cold over the weekend and it settled into my eyeballs--if that can happen. I woke up sniffling and then the next thing I know, my eyeballs dried up like freaking raisins. And while that sounds nice, add to that some major light sensitivity and tearing.

Yes, I have used eye drops--thank you everyone who has suggested this. Pretty much all I can do is wear dark glasses like Greta Garbo and avoid bright light--like a vampire. Driving to work on the busiest street in Chicago is really exciting--it's like Deathwish V. Thank god it clouded up for the ride home.

So, between my achey butt (which is actually getting a smidge better, thank you) and my raisin eyeballs, there isn't much getting done in the way of decorating for the holidays.

Not that anyone notices. When I mentioned dragging the Pope out of the attic the other day, Joe asked me in his I'm-serious-I-don't-know-what-the-hell-you-are-talking-about voice: "Do we have a Pope?"

Uh...yeah.

And if my raisins-for-eyeballs ever allow me to see again, I'll be happy to see his red-shoed self hanging with Miss SilverPants outside the KFC.

How to Gift Wrap a Cat

Do you know what I hate doing this time of year? Well, more than standing in crowded lines of holiday shoppers, putting up all that crap in my house, and decorating two trees?

Wrapping presents.

Ugh, I dread that. And while everyone else in my family runs for the hills when that job comes along (well, any job, actually), the only ones who stick by me are the kitties--they LOVE wrapping presents! All that crinkly paper and crunchy bows.....

But what to do when the kitty is the present? Here you go:



I know CardioGirl is just hoping she gets one of those packages this Christmas.

Twinkie Casserole???! What?! Where?!

Believe me when I tell you that my family are experts in the dessert department. There isn't a dessert we don't love.

Once, when my grandma was not coming out of anesthesia after a surgery, the family was called and gathered to her bedside. And while we all thought she was a goner, Grandma thought otherwise. We knew she was gonna make it when she opened her eyes and uttered her first words in days: "What's for dessert?" she asked.

Not even making that story up.

So, when I tell you that Twinkie Casserole is a family favorite, you gotta try it. No, it does not taste like Twinkies. No, it is not for your diabetic uncle or your waistline-watching sister--but it is for those of you with a wicked sweet tooth.

Behold, the Zacker Family tradition--Twinkie Casserole!

2 boxes of Twinkies (you won't use all of them--just enough to fill the pan)
1 pkg Vanilla Instant pudding
2 cups of milk
6 large Heath bars, crushed
Large Cool Whip

In a 9 x 13 pan, line the bottom with Twinkie bottoms (cut them lengthwise). Make pudding and pour on top of the Twinkie bottoms. Sprinkle half of the Heath bars over this, and layer the Twinkie tops over it all. Top it all with Cool Whip and sprinkle the rest of the crushed Heath Bars over the top. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

This is a terrific no-bake treat. Not kidding--people love this EVERYWHERE I take it. And they get such a kick out of it that it is called "Twinkie Casserole". I mean, who isn't intrigued by that?

I'd post a photo, but rarely do I take photos of food and besides, it just looks like a 9 x 13 pan of Cool Whip.

I would think that it is your duty to make this and report back to us if you like it. Who's gonna be the first???

Wine, Twinkie Casserole and The Pyramid

While my silly college kid went shopping at 2:00 a.m. with his wacky friends, I'm doing the opposite. I'm laying low, avoiding all things Christmas, and hoping I have just one more day to relax. If I could fit in a box, you'd find me in it today.

Thanksgiving was great--lots of good food, family, booze, Twinkie Casserole, and yes, the $100,000 Pyramid.

There was some smack-talkin', mostly on my part on Facebook to get the competition fired up. And fired up they were--we no sooner finished dinner and we all warmed up with The Family Feud. Nothing says the holidays more than competitive games to ensure there is an F-bomb dropped sometime during the day. And while that didn't happen this year, we did have some wicked rounds of The $100,000 Pyramid.

The teams were as follows:

1. Team Gay--Joe and Iwan. Iwan is my cousin Kelly's fiancee, who last year was just her boyfriend when this team was initially formed. At first, everyone is a tad awkward when these two have a huge discussion on who is gonna "receive", but they are truly a force to be reckoned with.
2. Team Drunk--or as the booze kept flowing, it was later known as Dream Trunk. This was my brother and my cousin Heather's husband, Nate. While they were a relatively good team, the slurring kinda got in their way and we all laughed hysterically.
3. Team Arthritis--My mom and cousin Heather. While I'm not sure where the name came from, they certainly held their own. But they lost in the first round to Dream Trunk and were quickly eliminated.
4. Team Hott--The killer team of me and cousin Kelly. Even with one hand firmly planted on our glasses of wine we manage to kick Pyramid ass.
   

I don't think you have to guess who won the Championship title this year. Let's just say that there were a few boyfriends/husbands who were demanding another playoff. We would have except we had more wine and some U of I Marching Illini melancholy already on the schedule.

Darn.

So, exhausted from the win, I'm hanging low today. Kelly is off redeeming her coupon for a "Free mani/pedi and a chicken sandwich", and I'm cleaning house and doing laundry. And while our victory song of "Boomerang" still lingers in my head, I'm smiling 'cuz I know we kicked Pyramid ass.

Victory is sweet. Not as sweet as Twinkie Casserole, but still very sweet.

I Love Hobbes AND Thanksgiving Thursday!

Happy Thanksgiving!

From Lin, Hobbes
and the rest of the gang at the Duck and Wheel

Here's wishing you turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, a good nap,
and lots to be thankful for!

I'm coolin' ya'll up Wednesday - The John Wall

Em had dance team practice the other day and came home talking about all the new girls she's met on the team. And while they are just starting to work on the choreographed moves, some of the girls are feelin' each other out on their dance experience and just how much they know.

Em reported that a couple of the girls asked her how long she danced and took lessons. And while they may have not been impressed with her 9 years of dance experience, she won them over by telling them that she knew the "John Wall".

"What the hell is the 'John Wall'? " I asked.

Behold:



Oh.

Now there are like a zabillion videos of folks singing all kinds of songs about the "John Wall" on YouTube. There are 4:31 minute long rap tunes singing about it--including scantily clad "beautiful princesses" (as Uncle Jerry would call them). There are lots of home versions of family members doing the "John Wall" that nobody else wants to see. There are dirty versions and there are clean versions. In my opinion, there are waaayyyy too many versions of the "John Wall".

But no other, but the one I posted here, shows Dora the Explorer doing the "John Wall"--that right there gives it the Seal of Approval in my mind. Ugh.

So, here you go--impress the relatives by laying a little "John Wall" on them for Turkey Day. And you can thank the Duck and Wheel, once again, for coolin' ya'll up.

Or hate me for scarring you for life.

And you wonder where I get it.....

It's been one of those weeks. You know, where I get all silly and wacky and then I'm all taken the wrong way and a disgruntled crowd begins form, chanting my name and lighting torches and such. Sigh.

I actually had Irene keeping an eye out at work just in case an angry mob of Botti fans showed up to burn me at the stake. Sheesh, I learned not to mess with the Botti fans. (Go read the comments of that post if you are curious. Yikes!)

Moving on.

So, anywho.....folks tend to ask me (a LOT) where do I get it? Like, who's to blame for you and how come you are just so freaking whacked out? Well, that's easy--it's my family.

Wanna know where I get my impeccable fashion sense and love for all things silly
that nobody else thinks is silly--AND a cold beer?

Uncle Jerry.

My ability to have fun everywhere and laugh until my sides hurt?

Uncle Tom.

(Shown here doing "W" of his ever-popular party enhancer - The Human Alphabet)

And my good looks and charming personality?

Ija.
(Actually my great-uncle's name was Mike. Don't even ask me why
we called him "EEEya"--I have no clue.)

'Nuff said.

And we haven't even gotten to the women of my family tree.

Not Me!

It's the oddest thing, but when I see the kids sitting together this week, this is what I see:

Funny how time flies, the years pass, and they grow up before you know it. But as a mom, they will always be your babies--no matter how old they get. I know, I know--we've all heard the cliche, but really, I see them like this--little and mine. Oh, and they still think I'm fabulous. (Ha!)

With the four of us together under the same roof this week, I have found my inner Nancy Drew. I have solved mysteries that I have forgotten existed, such as:

1. Who wads the towels up and throws them on the bathroom counter? Colin
2. Who doesn't put the pillows back nicely on the couch? Colin AND Emma
3. Who leaves the hall light on? Joe
4. Who puts the smudges on the mirror in the bathroom? Emma
5. Who leaves the Playstation games all over the family room? Colin
6. Who drips liquid soap all over the sink? Colin
7. Who opens up the cabinet and softball pitches in the towels? Emma

These and other family mysteries were solved when one kid was removed from the scenario. What annoying habits disappeared when he left, I knew Colin was responsible for. What remained was Emma. And when both kids are gone for the evening, Joe gets blamed.

It seems only the cats and myself are not annoying--just ask us.

Over the River and Thru the Woods

The house is gonna be a little louder, a little dirtier, and a little more crowded as Colin comes home today. It's so funny how the three of us were just waiting for Saturday to come so we could be a family under one roof again. Give us three days and we'll all be on each other's nerves--but it is a good feeling for the moment.

It's odd when you children go off to college--I not only miss him, but I miss his friends as well. I feel the hole in my life where this group of kids used to be--in my home, at school, and in the band. It's the weirdest thing to be missing someone else's kid too.

So, while I can't wait to see my kid, I kinda wanna see the friends too. I miss Ted being in the CYSO this year, going to those concerts without his smiley face (and talents) just isn't the same. Hanging around the house without Taylor and Stephanie in the family room is just too quiet. And while we certainly aren't on the priority list to visit with this quick trip home, I just hope I catch a glimpse of my favorite kids--if not Thanksgiving, then Christmas.

Heck, I'm hoping to just catch a glimpse of my own in the next week.

I'll take love every time

Okay, who's excited that Prince William is getting married?? Meeeee! And I'm gonna get up early and watch the wedding just like I did his mom and dad all those years ago. Call me sappy, but I like this Royal Wedding crap.

And before everyone goes nuts on me because it's silly or the Royals suck or any such nonsense--I'm just going to go on record in saying that it beats the rest of the news we get each day. I mean, haven't we had enough of Brad and Angelina to choke a horse? Who cares what Lindsey Lohan is drinking or what Brittany is wearing? I don't care about Kate plus 8 or the Kardashians. If we are gonna have tabloid stories--I want LOVE, dammit.

And love I think it is.

This is the first time in like a cabillion years that a Royal is marrying an honest-to-goodness commoner. And what stands out about that to me is that he is marrying because he loves her. There is nothing to be gained by marrying a commoner and god knows, she is gonna have a rough time marrying into that madness--so why do it?? Love. It just has to be.

What got me was the ring--I love that William gave his gal his mom's engagement ring. It is a symbol of a very sad romance--that of his mom and dad. She married, foolishly, thinking she was in love---he, not so much. What girl amongst us hasn't had her heart broken from some cad who ended up loving someone else? Maybe this time that ring will be the symbol of love--love that lasts.

Gees, I hope so.

I'm sure there are gonna be cynics amongst the pallies--but, please, don't be letting the air out of my tires. I'm all about the Prince marrying the beautiful girl and them living happily ever after. I wanna see them happy and in love. I'd love for Diana to see that her son got what she didn't, and I'm really sad that she isn't here for that.

I love a happy ending and I sure hope this story has one.

I Love Hobbes Thursday---Wee me

Guess who got her Christmas present early? Yep, I bought me a brand new, spiffy flip video camera! Oooooh, how I love that nifty little toy! (Thank you, Jodi, for clueing me in once again.)

Okay, so the best part of my new videoing capabilities is that Hobbes is now in action here at the Duck and Wheel. And what is better than that?? Nu. thing.

So, here you go, pallies--here's Hobbes and his wee voice. Now you can experience the big guy like he was in your own home.




And if you are wondering about the rug, go here.

I'm coolin' ya'll up Wednesday - Cheesestick edition

This week's attempt at coolin' ya'll up comes from Irene. Yep, Irene at work--you know, in the next cubicle???

Anywho, before IT blocked our access to YouTube, Irene was able to dig up videos for me and Jim to crack up about. So, she is the one to thank/blame for this nightmare. Welcome to Keenan--otherwise known as "Weird dwarfy kid" to me, Irene and Jim.

Personally, he creeps me out, but apparently he is a huge YouTube sensation. He does many lip syncs to today's pop hits.

Today's feature is "G6"--or as I like to sing it....Cheesestick. Enjoy:



I found out that while I was singing "Like a Cheesestick, like a cheesestick", the real words are "Like a G6, like a G6" which is a super fast airplane. Who knew??! I mean, I'd think kids would be singing about cheesesticks being that they like them in their lunch and all. But I was sadly mistaken.

I guess the "Ackin' like they drunk" part should have clued me in. Sigh.

Oh well, I can still sing the cheesestick part to make them roll their eyes and suck their teeth. That is what it means to be the parent, right?

You can thank me now for not only destroying your ears, BUT your eyes as well.

Pansies.....still

How can Thanksgiving be next week when I've still got flowers blooming in the pots on my patio? It is awfully hard to think turkey, pumpkin pie, and mailing all those darn Christmas cards when the temps are still relatively balmy.

And while I'm not knocking the warm weather, I just have this feeling that Christmas is gonna sneak up on me--kinda like that monster in my closet who's been hiding there all these years. I still can't sleep with my closet door open.

I sorta dread this time of year--it is the quiet before the storm. It's the time when we should be preparing for Christmas, but you don't want to ruin the spirit of Thanksgiving. So, you start making your lists, order your cards, and perhaps buy a few presents here and there--you know, to kind of get an edge on the holiday madness. But you keep remembering Thanksgiving and you try not to feel guilty for pushing past it.

This starting early never really works, though. You still rush about in traffic picking up that gift you forgot, or buy that decoration that you just have to have. There is that tree that has to be cut or picked off the lot. There are decorations to put up and gifts to be wrapped. It's such madness, isn't it? And an awful lot of work.

Why do we do this? Why do we fuss with putting lights on the house for this one time of year? Why not summer when the snow and ice doesn't prevent us from taking down what nearly killed us putting up? Why do we suddenly have to put up all these decorations all over the house and send everyone a fancy card? Why do we have to buy every single person we know a gift and go to a cabillion holiday parties? And why do we have to do all of this at once?

It's insane this holiday stuff. And for all that I do to prepare, it is never enough. So, I'm gonna go hang with the pansies on the porch for as long as I can. I'm gonna cling to the warm and this period of quiet anticipation. I'm still laughing at frogs who pop their heads up in the water--still not hibernating.

Maybe they are the smart ones--they duck under and go to sleep just when the rest of us are gearing up for the craziest time of year. And they sleep the holidays and long winter away. Sounds like a good deal to me.

Move over frogs.

Botti Bummer

Saturday night entailed a trip into the city for the sold-out Chris Botti concert.

Chris Botti is a trumpet player for those of you who aren't familiar with him. Apparently, he is big with the older set--we found that out Saturday night. The old guy next to me and I had a lovely time yucking it up together before the concert. Old guys dig me--or so my family says.

Here's me and Em chilling before the concert. I liked that they had a bar on levels 3, 4, and Top-O-the world. By the time I found my seat, I not only needed a sherpa and some oxygen, but that cocktail as well.

I took some photos as we walked from the parking garage to the venue - The Chicago Theater. The city of Chicago is already decked out for the holidays. Macy's took over the old Marshall Field's years ago and they still can't pull off the charm that Field's had. And the windows? Lame. I guess some of us still won't forgive them for changing the name.

I love going into the city--there are characters galore. Here's my chef buddies who I found hanging out after the dinner rush. "See ya on Facebook!" they yelled as I thanked them for the photo. Nah, I'll do one better--I put ya on my blog.

If you haven't been to Chicago, it really is a nice place to visit. The city is very cool with its elevated trains. I never lose the excitement of going downtown--it is just bustling with activity and stories.

Back to the concert--Chris Botti always has a Meet and Greet after his shows and he boasts of encouraging kids to continue in their music. And while he did pull two older students out of the audience and gave them two front row seats, the Meet and Greet wasn't what we expected.

I had the foresight to purchase a poster ($15) when we came in, knowing that he meets with kids after the concert. I figured we'd better have something of his to sign, and sure enough, anyone without a purchased CD or poster was immediately yanked out of the Meet and Greet line. Hmmmmm.

Then, as we stood waiting, burly security guards told us to put away our cameras, as Chris wasn't taking photos tonight. Hmmmmmm--that's not what he said at the end of his concert.

And then, when our turn finally came for our "meet and greet", Chris Botti and his security guard were busy chatting up about something. He grabbed the poster from Em's hand, scribbled his name across it, and handed it back to us.

"Here's a band student for you, Chris" I pointed to Em. To which he looked up and gave us a lame "Thanks for coming" and turned to the next person. Buzzkill. Joe says he needs to "walk the talk" and I agreed. Joe is very smart on things like that.

I think we would have been better not being at the "meet and greet" at all--we were all really let down by that. I mean, if you don't want to meet the fans---don't do it. Better none at all than a lame meeting. I kept going back to Helene's story of Michael Flatley. There is nothing worse than a lame celebrity encounter--and there is nothing better than a good one.

Ours was lame and here's Em's face to prove it:

On the other hand, Botti's bass player made up for his rudeness. Dude couldn't have been more gracious and accommodating. When I mentioned Em was in band, he was all "Hey, COOL!" and thanked us for coming to see them.

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. He made us feel good and he's a freaking no-name! Thank you, bass-guy-that-was-nice-and-made-us-feel-welcome!

Great how the nice just overrides the icky, eh? And the funny thing is that what we are gonna remember from the Chris Botti concert is just how nice the bass player was. Its a shame Botti doesn't get that.

Hooray!

My post yesterday must have really scared 'em--I finally got a resolution from Target.com!

The email read:

"Dear Linda,

We've resolved the technical issue with your order and found that the Hot Dog and Marshmallow Set was shipped on September 19th, and then delivered to your recipient shortly afterward. Because of the length of time this matter remained unresolved, we didn't charge you for the Hot Dog and Marshmallow Set and I've refunded you for the Coleman Camp Cooker. You should see a refund in the amount of $28.02 on your Visa within the next few business days.

I'm truly sorry for the trouble with this order, but I'm grateful for your patience with me while we get this resolved. Please know we're doing everything possible to prevent situations like this from happening again.

Best wishes, and have a great weekend!"

Love, Jennifer

I added the "Love, Jennifer" part because I think by the end of this fiasco, girlfriend was probably loving the fact (like I was) that this hell is finally over.

And after reading this, you are probably wondering why the heck anyone would send a hot dog and marshmallow and Camp Cookers to a couple of newlyweds. Yeah, well, I was asking myself the same question--but that is what these two goofs registered for! Ugh. Maybe they are planning on being hobos or something, who knows. Either way, they ain't gettin' the Camp Cookers so they are gonna have to be creative out there on the rails.

Okay. I am done with Target.com. For. E. Ver. Not going to their stores. Not going to order from their online site. Not even looking at that place when I drive by. No siree. That $28.02 was a nice gesture, but it doesn't win me back. Nope. Target.com still sucks in my opinion.

That'll teach 'em to mess with the folks at the Duck and Wheel.

Quit giggling.

Target.com still sucks

Heading into my 8th (EIGHTH!!) week of online shopping hell, I still have not had any progress to report with canceling--or for that matter, receiving--my order from Target.com. Sigh.

True pally, Lola, answered the bat call for help and promptly researched and presented me all the names and email addresses for the big-whoopty-do's at Target. So, I did what you all suggested and emailed Gregg Steinhafel, CEO of Target, a nice letter explaining my dilemma.

And that was promptly handed over to his expert in customer service issues, Jennifer Weber.

So, that was like 2 weeks ago and now Jennifer is sending me bi-weekly "I'm sorry...." letters along with the computer generated bi-weekly "Your order is on back-order" letters explaining my order is still in target.com limbo. Arrrrgghhh.

I love how all of Jennifer Weber's letters tell me how sorry she is and how she is working on canceling the order, when in reality, I think girlfriend is sitting there playing solitaire on her computer and hoping against hope that this damn present will be delivered before the next promised deadline comes.

Yeah, uh....Jennifer....that's not working for me.

And while I get her format letter apologizing for the delay, I love to respond to her, telling her what week we are on with this issue. Does it help? Nope. But it makes me feel better letting them know how effed up their system is. And I really hope that maybe, just maybe, Jennifer is actually trying to do something and is finding their system as screwed up as I am. And maybe, just maybe, she'll report that to her pally, Gregg Steinhafel, who is sitting in his office playing solitaire.

And in the meantime, do I get a thank-you note from the newlyweds for the lame-ass gift that was already sent to them? Nope.

Screw them all.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Warm sunshine never betrays the cat.

Just ask Hobbes.

I'm coolin' ya'll up Wednesday

As a special "community service", I'm gonna introduce you all to what's hip and cool in the world today. Okay, so some of you have teens and you know what is hip--but what about the rest of us--you know, like Joe? Somebody's got to clue him in so that he looks like he knows what the kids are talking about. We don't want him to be left out or (gasp!) lookin' uncool.

Here is today's lesson: Willow Smith (daughter of Will Smith and Jayda (?) Pinkett) singing that super annoying "Whip My Hair". Hold on for the ride, Grace.....





Enter my grandpa-0r I should say, me, posing as my grandpa.

Isn't this the most annoying thing ever?? And add to that the kid is nine. NINE. As in nine years old singing about her "swagger". Does she even know what that is?? And should she at that age?

Criminy. Someone wrote in the comments about the video that she is "slappin' where her boobs should be"--yeah, no kidding. I think this poor kid is way too young to be pimped out like this, dancing and singing like she's old enough to have swagger. Don't these two have enough money that now they are pimpin' out their nine year old kid?

And while we are on it--what is with that stupid stomp crap the kids do now? It's lame. They do this at basketball games and pep assemblies at the high school, and I have to admit it totally passes me by. I don't get it. I think we played patty-cake when we were little and then it progressed to the hand-jive, which I think was 4th or 5th grade. Now the black girls dress all slutty and shake their god-given "talents" and do this stomp stuff. Sorry, it's just stupid. And you don't look all that good doing it.

So, now when you go to the grocery store and you hear folks talking about "whipping your hair back and forth", you can jump in because I have officially clued you in to this. You can thank me later.

Or hate me because that over-used chorus is now stuck in your head.

Sorry.

The Map

I didn't write much about my vacation this year--I dunno, I just didn't feel like it. It was a week of introspection and one where I sort of drew some lines for myself personally. So, while I looked like I just wanted to chill on the outside, my mind was busy thinking on the inside. And let me tell you, that did not go over big with those around me.

I like getting older because I find that I do things now that entail less drama and create a whole lot more zen. And as time goes on, I like how I feel without engaging myself in others' problems, worrying about who is doing what, and taking the path of least resistance.

I've been doing more of that lately, kinda just laughing more and keeping an even keel to my life--I like the calm that it brings. I like making the extra effort to find fun in things and handling the problems of life that arise and moving along back to peace. It's a good feeling and definitely a good place for me to be.

One of the fun things we did on vacation was to take a trip to an old coal mining camp. There was a slow train ride up to the camp where we spent the afternoon walking around learning about the history of the area, and then enjoyed the leisurely ride back again. It was cool to take a trip back to a time when life was a whole lot slower--albeit a little dirtier.

Standing there amazed at the map of mine tunnels, it struck me that it looked like my brain. Lots of channels and pathways to go--it is just a matter of choice of what direction to take. And while some of those tunnels lead to bounty, still others can lead to dead-ends. Even more scary were the ones that possibly lead to death.

And while my life is nowhere as dramatic as that, I thought long and hard about the choices we make and how the choice to be happy can be possible. So, while that map of tunnels and paths looks very ominous, I think it is possible to find some happy routes along the way.

Last year I wrote of our inner tube ride and how we need to fight the river a whole lot less, and it is by coincidence that this mine camp is also the launch site for the inner tubes. Funny how I found myself, physically and figuratively, at that same spot where I found my zen last year. What is it about those hills in Kentucky that whispers to me to slow down and find less drama in my life?

Update the Scorecards, Vanillas

It's strange to see the pond silent and still these days. And while the temps have dropped, there are still a couple of frogs who have not started their hibernation yet and they still peek out of the water every day.

Now that the waterfall has been shut down, I can't sneak up on the frogs anymore, they hear me coming and make the mad dash to hide from me--like I'm gonna get them. They are so silly thinking that I don't see them under the water hiding from me. Yeah/no. It's not working so good, but I humor them and walk away--except for yesterday when I had to take a picture of one "hiding" from me. It's sort of like the kid who closes his eyes and thinks you can't see him anymore.

We went to my mom's house yesterday to pick up her frog. She has a tiny pond that freezes over the winter, so a frog staying in there is a death sentence for the little guy. And like her daughter, Mom was all worried about her frog, so she called us over to catch him and relocate him to our pond for the winter.

We dug around the muck and leaves for a bit until I finally scooped up a very dark and very lethargic frog. I plopped him in a tank and I have to say, I didn't think it looked good--it was either dying or it was already hibernating.

A quick trip to the house for some room temperature water brought the little guy back to life--and us to a happier mood. We were glad we weren't too late to save yet another frog friend. Hooray!

So, in the pond went the frog to hang out with his 6 or 7 new friends and I think that brings our count to 8--give or take a few. Counting frogs is difficult because you rarely see everyone at once--there is always somebody missing and frogs come and go on their own accord around here.

Okay, Vanillas (Vanilla and VanillaSeven), put us down for 8 frogs. I'll be relying on you Official Frog Counters come springtime to remind me how many frogs are in there.

Fired Up

As the temps are starting to dip at night, I finally took Hobbes' suggestion and lit the pilot light on the fireplace. So, there he sits now, in his basket, warming his belly in the evenings.

Hobbes long outgrew this basket and we are now onto an extra-large one that can hold his 47 pounds. Sigh. My little baby is all grown up.

Dang! A Major Award

Crap. I won "The Versatile Blogger" award from not one, but TWO pallies this week. And being that I'm so darn bad at posting these things, listing a cabillion things and passing it on, I'd better do it now or it's gonna get forgotten.

So, thank you, Sharky at My Quality Day and Staci at Just Boggled--for honoring me/making me do this.

Here are the folks I'm gonna bestow this honor on in return:

1. Catherine over at Corner of a Cat's Mind--one of my favorite photographers of all time. Dang, she has a great blog with photos to die for. AND Banjo can be found there.
2. DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom--Two words: Spike and Brownie. Need I say more? Oh, and DG is rockin' too.
3. Grace at Hugz Before You Go--I love Grace. I love her grumpiness. I love her pearls of wisdom. I love how she is so honest all the time--I like that in a person. I'm starting a rumor that Grace is gonna move to Weirdville. Can you imagine me and Grace as neighbors? Hee! Hee!
4. Melodie over at Laughing Duck Farm--I love the antics over at her place. I mean, who has a turkey sitting on their house? Well, maybe Sara at Red Pine Mountain, but not me! I think I would like a turkey on my house--it would make me laugh.
5. Aw, heck. I'm tagging Sara too. Her turkey stories really make me laugh! And she sorta needs a hug these days as her dog pally is struggling.


Okay, and here is the required list of seven things you may not know about me:

1. Biting into mint anything makes me sneeze. But only the very first bite.
2. I love to clean house alone with the show tunes on. I sing along at the top of my lungs--hence the being alone part. I've got some showstoppers in "Wicked" and "Rent" just in case you are wondering.
3. I always wear lipstick. Always. But it is because I get chapped lips easily.
4. I do not own a pair of sweat pants.
5. I know how to drive a stick shift.
6. I curse like a truck driver.
7. I like this video. And it is better than the original artist if you ask me. This guy is just so expressive. I like his faces. I dedicate this to A.Marie. ;)



Happy Friday, pallies!

I Love Hobbes Thursday - OMG

I didn't work on Monday, so all week I'm thinking Tuesday is Monday and Wednesday is Tuesday, etc.--ugh. I completely forgot that it is THURSDAY and it is time for:

I Love Hobbes Thursday!

Oops. I was so darn excited to tell you all about my new boyfriend that I just missed posting a photo of Hobbes. So, you'll get a bonus today--there is a full post right under this one! Hooray!!

Thanks, Helene, for the reminder.


Hobbes is officially in hibernation. He goes outside when I come home from work and comes in right at dinner--too cold to stay out much longer than that. Then, after a little dinner, he curls up on his favorite blankie on the couch and waits for me to turn the fireplace on--which I haven't done just yet, but he's hoping I will.

He's like the Ground Hog--if you never went outside, you could figure out what season it is by Hobbes. Cold = blankie, warm = outside. There is no in-between for our little buddy.

Today's weather report: It's a bed day with a very likely chance of blankie later in the afternoon.

Keep reading--there is another post today!

Love in the Post Office Parking Lot

I work not too far from the post office and I oftentimes take the mail for a little hike over there, just to get some fresh air. Yesterday was one of those sunny days when I just needed a break, so I grabbed the mail and headed across the parking lot.

It is a bit of a hike, so while I was taking the long walk back to the office, I noticed a car slowing alongside of me. I wasn't scared or anything because it is a busy parking lot, but I did keep walking pretty briskly.

"Hi!" says the man through his open passenger window.

"Hi." I answer, but keep walking.

"Working hard?" he asks.

"Yeah," chuckle. "hardly working." I say trying to figure out if I know this guy.

See, the company I work for owns the whole 50 acres of building there and we have a factory on one side, our corporate office on another, and a distribution center around the corner. There are many employees that work there and I'm in Human Resources, so odds are it may just be an employee that I'm not recognizing right off the bat.

"I'm Darryl." he says charmingly. And that's when it hit me. "What's your name?"

"Lin" I answer, laughing inside.

"Mary Lin?"

And I'm like "NO! Lin. Just Lin!" I say.

To which he laughs and says "I SAID 'Are you married, Lin?'"

Oh. I'm an idiot. Seriously?! I'm getting picked up?! On the way back from the post office?! AT WORK?!

I just laughed at my new boyfriend, Darryl. I told him yes, I was married, but thanks for asking. And I cracked up all the way back through the parking lot to the office.

I was dying telling everyone the story back at work. It was just so funny to be picked up in a parking lot at work! I mean, even if it worked out with Darryl and we had like 14 kids, what would he tell folks? That he met me in a parking lot??! Criminy. Darryl needs a better plan.

And you know what I found out later? Darryl is one of our employees. Boy, is he gonna be surprised when he realizes that.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday - Where's Waldo?

Joe is an idiot. Really.

I was looking through my photos in search of a decent shot of us for the annual Christmas card, when I ran across this one. Seriously?! I mean, what is with his background antics on all my shots? First the Sasquatch and now Waldo? Sigh.

And when I showed him this and asked what he was doing, he laughed and laughed. And laughed.

I personally don't think he's funny.

Goodnight Pond

Gees, November sure came up fast, didn't it? Sigh.

We shut down the pond this past weekend. Shutting it down means turning off the waterfall, re-potting the lily, bringing the water plants indoors, sinking some hideouts for the fish and frogs, and closing off the skimmer. It sounds like a lot of work, but it isn't really. But don't ask Joe though--he'll say it is.

Maintaining the pond isn't really hard, but you learn after awhile what needs to be done for winter. The pump for the waterfall gets turned off, cleaned, and put in a clean bucket of water in the garage for the winter. It has to stay in water or the seals dry out.

The lily gets cut back and re-submerged to the bottom of the pond for the winter. It will come back come spring. The water plants are put into tubs of water and they can spend the winter resting in the family room. With low winter light, they sort of just hibernate while the cats drink out of their tubs. There is just something about those tubs of water that the cats cannot resist. It drives Joe nuts that he has to keep refilling them so the cats can continue to empty them.

The minnows and the frogs stay out there all winter and hibernate. I've sunk a couple of empty water plant containers so that they have protection, but the frogs seem to like the folds in the liner to hide in. As long as we have the heater in the pond to keep an air hole open, they will survive. We have to have the heater otherwise the gases that the decomposing leaves and such create will get trapped and poison the water. It does not prevent the water from freezing--it just leaves a small air hole for air exchange.

I do about 40 skimmer checks now until it snows, as there is always some wise-acre frog who thinks it's cool to hibernate in there for the winter. There is no stench in this world like that of a frog who died in the skimmer--something I really, really hope not to repeat this year. We had the Great Frog Disaster '08 a few years ago and I don't want to repeat the carnage of 5 dead frogs in the skimmer again. It was very icky. And sad.

So, the pond is silent now. I miss hearing the water falling and the frogs plopping in when I go outside. I miss the lily pads and the water hyacinths. I worry about my frogs and hope they all make it through the winter. (How many did I have, Vanilla?) I have tucked it all in for a long winter's nap, and hope that everyone makes it through the many months of hibernation and ice-covered slumber.

Me and Hobbes will light the fireplace and stake out our spots on the couch until spring arrives many months from now. On some level I'm ready to rest from all the yard work, but on another, I will also spend this time worrying about my pond friends.

Goodnight fish and goodnight frogs. Goodnight lily and goodnight snails.

Goodnight pond.

And you wonder where I get it.....

So, here is my mother's report on the 50th anniversary party that she went to over the weekend for her friend's Bob and Sue:

"Mom, how was the anniversary party?"

"Oh, it was WONDERFUL! Bob didn't need his oxygen for the entire party!"

Yeah, Mom--that's definitely the measuring stick of a good time.