I'm Grateful for THIS

Who wouldn't be grateful to see THIS coming up the stairs at midnight??.

Followed by this..
While the rest of the house slept in a post-turkey coma.. I hear two silly hushed voices coming up the stairs and around the corner. And there they were. Hard to tell, but Sophie was also displaying a knights sheild on her chest.. and Jesse, an old over-sized cheezy fake leather jacket to top off his look.
So. This holiday, not only am I grateful for the fun 'slumber party' at Jasens sisters-- and the beautiful and delicious and good time it was.. but I am grateful for healthy, happy, silly kids.. who make eachother laugh, at midnight.

I Might Need Professional Help..

I went to see Edward. Again. I NEVER see movies, again. Don't buy movies when they come out on DVD.. don't watch HBO reruns. Just don't. Not interested. (Wait. Except for Notting Hill. And Breakfast Club. And O.K.-- Titanic. But that's IT.) But somehow, after at least 6 months of not even being IN a movie theatre.. just hit it twice in 5 days. For the same movie. Should the people closest to me be concerned? When does one recognize it's time for an intervention? And when will I realize that no real man is ever gonna think I smell THAT good.. or take me to a restaurant when HE'S not even eating?? Call it an obsession. Call it a fantasy..(call it a mid-life crisis. I won't be offended.) But something about the forbidden yet undying (literally.. hardy-har) devotion and intensity of the relationship in the film, really has me fixated for a minute here. I will now do my best to focus on real life, and NOT return to the theatre for at LEAST a week-- but I can't promise anything.

My Heart Belongs To Edward

Seriously. I haven't been so moved by a movie since Titanic.. (and embarrassingly, I was incredibly moved, by Titanic.) I'm still tingly. I'm still trying to finagle a way back in to the theatre to see it again without looking pathetic.. but most of all-- I'm still hoping that one day I too.. can be a very strong, very fast, very attractive, vampire. So I haven't even read the books. Just went cause it was a night out with the girls.. and I like 'hype'. I mean really people, I loathe sci-fi as a rule, and up until this moment, the visions and bad make-up that the term "vampire" itself conjure up for me are just annoying. But not any more. I choose to love Edward like the rest of the female population. I would let him monkey-climb me fast as lightening up any tree, anytime. He can creepily watch me sleep, and sniff my blood scent unceasingly.
I am not afraid.
(Needless to say I will be starting the books, immediately.)

Waking Up To Hot Crocked Chicken..

So.. things get busy. You're movin', you're groovin'. You've got dinner on the table, and another dinner in the crockpot for TOMORROW even. (Why? Cause you've got thawed chicken you've been meaning to cook for 5 days, you can't RE-freeze, and if you don't use it NOW, it's rotten.. and there goes 4 chicken breasts of the 60 you bought at the case sale.. DOWN the drain. We cannot be wasting perfectly good chicken in such times as these, now can we?) And then you're cleaning up dinner.. you're doin' dishes.. you're giving baths, homework advice, and tuck-ins.. and NEXT thing you know-- it's 7 a.m., and the house smells VERY strongly of crock-potted chicken. So if the now 12 hours it's been going isn't enough.. you get busy. You're rushin' kids to school, ya gotta fit in that work-out.. you really gotta SHOWER after that work-out (ESPECIALLY if you've worn that work-out get-up 2 days in a row like you KNOW you have..) gotta meet that friend for a birthday lunch, and you GOTTA read Sophie her new books from the book fair. Suddenly, it's 2:00. You MUST pick up your oldest from school, and you MUST get on-line and be sucked into the blog/facebook/snowboarding jacket websites for at LEAST a good hour.. before you realize you can't even SMELL the chicken anymore. You have become one with the overpowering stinch of it. And now.. NOW, 24 hours later, it is dinnertime. And there the chicken sits. Dark. Shriveled. "Well-done". And you serve it up. Because it's your chicken. And you cooked it.. and it will not go to waste.

Just Your Average Sunday Afternoon..

Some people rest. Some read. Perhaps a few go on nature walks.. or pray alot.
Us? We decided it was a great afternoon to demolish our famously hideous, at LEAST 40year old, tater cellar. Wasn't long before the hammers were pounding.. rusty nails we're flying.. and there were even neighbors gathered round to join in the festivities. Due to highly uncooperative participants-- I failed to get a shot that truly shares the excitement and energy of pure destruction.. but WAS able to capture just HOW nasty of a structure.. how truly offensive to the naked eye.. this particular tater cellar, is. Make that, WAS.

Let me know what kind of awful visions of slum-like poverty it stirs up for you personally. The back side's even nicer.

Jesse dared to take on the surely haunted innards.

Brynne and Bryan.. crutches and all.. just couldn't resist joining the party.
(Don't let the sitting fool you.. Brynne took out a whole wall single-handedly before the day was done. Who said bunion surgery has to slow a girl down??)
And ooh! Look! There's our other 'fancy' shed behind them! Jealous?

Off to shed heaven.

All in all-- a good time had by all. Only 97 more home improvement projects to go..

Laughter Really Is The Best Medicine

Wanted to post this picture of my very halarious.. and here, quite tickled, brother-in-law. This was taken back in St. Louis, near the end of our emotionally exhausting week. Jasens Dads funeral had been the night before, and after the cemetary the next morning, with heavy hearts we had returned to the church for a lunch that had been prepared for the family. Sitting together we began to talk, and laugh.. really hard. Just the thing I bet Grandpa would of loved to see-- and hopefully did. Thank goodness for family. Warm, loving, cozy, funny.. family.

Being Little Is Exhausting

Tonight after a full-blown fling herself on the floor tantrum (all because she didn't get a Subway sandwich like Dad had.. apparently she prefers a foot-long.)Sophie finally settled down. About 10 minutes later she took me by the hand and said.."Can you come lay down with me? I'm tired from all that screaming."

It just never gets old..

So Snow White, a hippie, and a pirate, walk into bar...
(Actually.. they just walked into a school carnival, a donut party, and a whole lotta streets to trick-or-treat.) By the way.. I do have another child-- he just recently hit his 'too cool for costumes' year.

Kay.. this one made me laugh unusually hard..

Why do I insist on dressing up? (I must have skipped the 'too cool for costumes' year.) I just can't help myself..

Oh. This would be Jasens latest contribution to "holiday traditions". It just ain't Halloween without a little lighter fluid.