When we left Willacy 19 months ago we left the best fridge we have ever owned behind. It made ice and leaving it broke my heart.
Not really, but it was close.
Then we moved into this place which had an old crappy non ice making fridge and we felt like cavemen.
Well, no more. The man has replaced the fridge with something that makes ice. Real big cubes that stare at me from my glass and remind me of how good life can really be. Having ice made for me makes me the happiest princess in all the kingdom.
Last night I heard my ice maker making me ice and I felt the warm fuzzies I used to feel at Willacy when that fridge loved me like it did.
It reminded me of the ice love post I wrote about awhile ago and since it's the holiday season and all, I thought I'd re-post it here. There is a lot of love involved when it comes to properly shaped frozen water and me.
Like a lot of love.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
the dead man
Today, the Sabbath day. A day of rest.
I just have one question...
Rest for who?
First there's the church thing. Three hours of skirts and slips and jewelry. This is a tiring thing. And then there is the choir thing. I play the piano for the choir. This is also a tiring thing.
I tire, what can I say?
And then there was the getting ready for the very tiny piano recital at my house. I only have two students so when I say tiny I really mean it. For two students, though, it means a mom and a dad and two grandmas and a grandpa.
All in my house.
What I am trying to say is that we had company over and my house was not fit for such a thing.
When I got home from choir I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and then took a break from cleaning to prepare dinner. Once that was in the oven I cleaned again and then again and then some more.
A comment made to me, by the man, at the end of the day gave me pause to reflect upon the happenings of the day. I decided to split it into two lists. His and hers. A she did, he did sort of thing.
My list looks like this:
race home mid-church to start a loaf of homemade bread and then race back to church again
after church, come home and tidy
which involved rehanging ornaments on tree that fell down and hasn't been forgiven yet
vacuum
dust
rearrange furniture
unload and load dishwasher (3 times. who is doing all the eating around here?)
make dinner for 13
make dessert for 16
clean bathroom
serve dinner
serve dessert
clean dinner and dessert
The man has his list too, for the man had things to do. His list looks like this:
play in garage for many hours
make veggie platter
eat dinner
eat dessert
tuck Amelia in
Then the comment was made. The very comment that made me pause for reflection. The comment that has brought us here today. He came into my hallowed kitchen, the kitchen I was preparing to tuck in for the night and said this very thing, "Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Oh, yes he did.
And then I murdered him. But I'll have to wait until tomorrow to bury him because my back is killing me.
I just have one question...
Rest for who?
First there's the church thing. Three hours of skirts and slips and jewelry. This is a tiring thing. And then there is the choir thing. I play the piano for the choir. This is also a tiring thing.
I tire, what can I say?
And then there was the getting ready for the very tiny piano recital at my house. I only have two students so when I say tiny I really mean it. For two students, though, it means a mom and a dad and two grandmas and a grandpa.
All in my house.
What I am trying to say is that we had company over and my house was not fit for such a thing.
When I got home from choir I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned and then took a break from cleaning to prepare dinner. Once that was in the oven I cleaned again and then again and then some more.
A comment made to me, by the man, at the end of the day gave me pause to reflect upon the happenings of the day. I decided to split it into two lists. His and hers. A she did, he did sort of thing.
My list looks like this:
race home mid-church to start a loaf of homemade bread and then race back to church again
after church, come home and tidy
which involved rehanging ornaments on tree that fell down and hasn't been forgiven yet
vacuum
dust
rearrange furniture
unload and load dishwasher (3 times. who is doing all the eating around here?)
make dinner for 13
make dessert for 16
clean bathroom
serve dinner
serve dessert
clean dinner and dessert
The man has his list too, for the man had things to do. His list looks like this:
play in garage for many hours
make veggie platter
eat dinner
eat dessert
tuck Amelia in
Then the comment was made. The very comment that made me pause for reflection. The comment that has brought us here today. He came into my hallowed kitchen, the kitchen I was preparing to tuck in for the night and said this very thing, "Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Oh, yes he did.
And then I murdered him. But I'll have to wait until tomorrow to bury him because my back is killing me.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
just do the homework and then write your letter
Yesterday I started writing a research paper that is due tomorrow. Not my greatest plan, I will admit. I have positively punished myself with this paper for 24 hours and I can't even really say it is all my fault. We didn't even get the topics for it until last week and then we had a final to study for and I also had a big class presentation I needed to do. How am I expected to get it all done? Don't they realize that I am very busy woman? And why don't they coordinate their homework expectations accordingly?
Sheesh!
It's all my fault.
That reminds me....last week the Professoress was asking us questions about the format of the course this semester and if we liked it better than courses past. I certainly liked it better. But I was definitely among the minority. For me it was less work because I did all the readings. I always do all the readings because that's what I am supposed to do. The prof's give you the syllabus and you do the readings. That's university, right?
Apparently not. Apparently you can not do the readings and then Wikipedia everything you need to know 5 minutes before class and get away with it.
Pfffft. Why doesn't anyone tell me this stuff?
As some students implied with their laments, you can get away this for a time. At least until you are expected to write about what you learned. And then all of a sudden....too hard!
Anyway, so I do the readings and then I do the essays based on them and I do very well in this class and the Professoress and I get along splendidly. However, as it came to light this particular day, if you don't do the readings, but instead rely on Wikipedia for basic information, the essays are "like really hard, y'know? And there's, like, lots of them and it's so much work and, like...."
The professoress stood in silence and disbelief. How could the children be so cruel and inconsiderate? How could they say such hurtful things? I wanted to hold her. Reassure her. "There there, little one, I do the readings. And I know that redhead in the corner does them too. All is not lost. We like the essays."
But I didn't, because.....weird.
Anyway, one dark long haired stallioness (what are those called) said this, out loud, for all to hear, "It's like you guys don't care that we have, like, other things to do as well. It's like you all think you're the only class we have. There's so much reading, it's so much work."
The professoress stood stunned, her frame raising to the peak of her 5 foot capacity. Speechless. All she could muster was a, "Paaaahhhh...."
At this point I felt the need, with all the gentle motherly chastising superpowers I could bring forth from the depths of my disbelieving soul, to raise my hand.
So I did.
When I was done speaking, I closed my book and the dark long haired stallioness put her infuriated head down and texted madly on her phone for the rest of the class. The professoress looked upon me kindly, smiled, and mouthed a "thank-you" as I exited the room.
Here is another gentle reminder. It is Giving Tuesday today and one of the best things in life, I have decided, is when the winter comes and people get all in the mood to give give give. In whatever way that is, I love to watch it and participate when I can. It is most warming unto my heart. This is best time of the year. Minus the blizzard and the Elf on the Shelf, but that's okay. We can all handle a little earth shaking wind every now and then. And millions of pictures of your weird Elf.
So, if you are looking for something to do that won't cost you anything but some time, please remember this great cause and consider it for yourself and maybe do it as a family. It's very humbling to be reminded that while I am home all snug in my house with my snug healthy kids and we are well as well can be that there are those whose Christmas looks quite different this year.
And thanks for coming here over and over. I appreciate you. All of you, even if you are as quiet as mice.
Happy Giving Tuesday, everyone!
Sheesh!
It's all my fault.
That reminds me....last week the Professoress was asking us questions about the format of the course this semester and if we liked it better than courses past. I certainly liked it better. But I was definitely among the minority. For me it was less work because I did all the readings. I always do all the readings because that's what I am supposed to do. The prof's give you the syllabus and you do the readings. That's university, right?
Apparently not. Apparently you can not do the readings and then Wikipedia everything you need to know 5 minutes before class and get away with it.
Pfffft. Why doesn't anyone tell me this stuff?
As some students implied with their laments, you can get away this for a time. At least until you are expected to write about what you learned. And then all of a sudden....too hard!
Anyway, so I do the readings and then I do the essays based on them and I do very well in this class and the Professoress and I get along splendidly. However, as it came to light this particular day, if you don't do the readings, but instead rely on Wikipedia for basic information, the essays are "like really hard, y'know? And there's, like, lots of them and it's so much work and, like...."
The professoress stood in silence and disbelief. How could the children be so cruel and inconsiderate? How could they say such hurtful things? I wanted to hold her. Reassure her. "There there, little one, I do the readings. And I know that redhead in the corner does them too. All is not lost. We like the essays."
But I didn't, because.....weird.
Anyway, one dark long haired stallioness (what are those called) said this, out loud, for all to hear, "It's like you guys don't care that we have, like, other things to do as well. It's like you all think you're the only class we have. There's so much reading, it's so much work."
The professoress stood stunned, her frame raising to the peak of her 5 foot capacity. Speechless. All she could muster was a, "Paaaahhhh...."
At this point I felt the need, with all the gentle motherly chastising superpowers I could bring forth from the depths of my disbelieving soul, to raise my hand.
So I did.
When I was done speaking, I closed my book and the dark long haired stallioness put her infuriated head down and texted madly on her phone for the rest of the class. The professoress looked upon me kindly, smiled, and mouthed a "thank-you" as I exited the room.
Here is another gentle reminder. It is Giving Tuesday today and one of the best things in life, I have decided, is when the winter comes and people get all in the mood to give give give. In whatever way that is, I love to watch it and participate when I can. It is most warming unto my heart. This is best time of the year. Minus the blizzard and the Elf on the Shelf, but that's okay. We can all handle a little earth shaking wind every now and then. And millions of pictures of your weird Elf.
So, if you are looking for something to do that won't cost you anything but some time, please remember this great cause and consider it for yourself and maybe do it as a family. It's very humbling to be reminded that while I am home all snug in my house with my snug healthy kids and we are well as well can be that there are those whose Christmas looks quite different this year.
And thanks for coming here over and over. I appreciate you. All of you, even if you are as quiet as mice.
Happy Giving Tuesday, everyone!
Sunday, December 1, 2013
innuendo and the writing of letters
Well, here we are again on another Sunday night where I have filled my belly full right up and I can barely breathe.
Don't ask me why I do that. Because I don't know. But I made this cake. And this icing. And once said icing was on said cake it became positively irresistible.
And now I am stuffed right up. Again. On this here Sunday night.
So, anyway, I have decided Santa is super fun as an adult. But only for about 15 years, give or take. For 15 years, give or take, I have enjoyed the whole Santa is coming, hide your wrapping paper, separate your gifts from his, call him on the phone when the kids are naughty, wait in line for a 45 second please-bring-me-such-and-such, chimney, reindeer dust, milk and cookie shenanigans. But I feel sorta done.
Don't shoot me for being honest. For me, I just feel like it might be time to move on. But the little one is only 7 and she is deeply entrenched in the dark arts that are everything Santa Claus. I have decided that if she asks I will speak the truth but I'm not a monster, I won't just flat out tell her the truth about Santa.
Shhhhhh, it's a secret.
I will, however, buy you dinner and a KitKat if you tell her. By accident, of course.
I came here to tell you something and was completely side tracked.....
I don't even remember what side tracked me.
So I'll tell you about a party I went to last night. A girlie party. I love my friends, but seriously, at least one of them could use a quick 'how to' in the art of shopping for gift exchanges.
We had a gift exchange, as I previously mentioned. It was lovely. Until it came to my turn. By the time it got to my turn the vintage punch bowl had been stolen three times and was no longer in play. The beautiful homemade owl blanket had been stolen three times and was no longer in play. The cool stripey scarf and the homemade painting had both been stolen three times each and were no longer in play. The amazingly precious, much sought after, by me, ceramic owl had been stolen three times and was no longer in play.
BLASTED!!!! I wanted that owl, and that dang punch bowl. Basically, all things my heart desired had been stolen so many times I did not stand a chance. So I stole the adorable sunflower pyrex bowls knowing that some heartless fool would take them from my desperate hands the first chance she got. And I was right.
So I opened a new gift.
Sex magnets.
Yep, you heard me. Fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind.
I have teenagers, for crying out loud! What on earth am I going to do with fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind?
I'm pretty sure I am going to do nothing with fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind.
And surprise surprise, no one wanted to steal it from me either so I ended up with with sex magnets. This is not even something I can regift because I don't know a single person who would want sex magnets. I doubt even the person who brought them would want them.
I wish I knew who it was so I could say a special prayer on her behalf this very night. I threw those blasted sex magnets into the gag gift exchange pile and the person who got them refused to take them home!
No one wants sex magnets!!
No one, I say.
So I took a perfectly lovely gift and came home with nothing. How does that work?! Boo, hiss.
But wow, the food was amazing. It is pretty awesome what women can create when they cook for the ones they love.
Their friends.
And I truly love my friends. I would throw myself on a fire fueled by sex magnets for any one of them.
Moving on, did you know that December 3rd is the opening day for Giving Tuesday? A new global movement for giving and sharing. I think it's splendid.
Some of you may already know that I volunteer with a program called Art a la Carte. This is a volunteer run program that provides art at the bedside of cancer patients who are hospital bound. I am their creative writer and I am truly honoured to be associated with such an amazing group of volunteers. Go to this link and see what awesomeness they are up to as of December 3rd, 2013.
If you feel so inclined, as I do on occasion, to give back then please click the link and write your letter. What a treat to be able to help in such a simple and unique way but to have it mean so much to someone in need.
Plus, it's Christmas.....and I know you are totally in the giving mood.
Don't ask me why I do that. Because I don't know. But I made this cake. And this icing. And once said icing was on said cake it became positively irresistible.
And now I am stuffed right up. Again. On this here Sunday night.
So, anyway, I have decided Santa is super fun as an adult. But only for about 15 years, give or take. For 15 years, give or take, I have enjoyed the whole Santa is coming, hide your wrapping paper, separate your gifts from his, call him on the phone when the kids are naughty, wait in line for a 45 second please-bring-me-such-and-such, chimney, reindeer dust, milk and cookie shenanigans. But I feel sorta done.
Don't shoot me for being honest. For me, I just feel like it might be time to move on. But the little one is only 7 and she is deeply entrenched in the dark arts that are everything Santa Claus. I have decided that if she asks I will speak the truth but I'm not a monster, I won't just flat out tell her the truth about Santa.
Shhhhhh, it's a secret.
I will, however, buy you dinner and a KitKat if you tell her. By accident, of course.
I came here to tell you something and was completely side tracked.....
I don't even remember what side tracked me.
So I'll tell you about a party I went to last night. A girlie party. I love my friends, but seriously, at least one of them could use a quick 'how to' in the art of shopping for gift exchanges.
We had a gift exchange, as I previously mentioned. It was lovely. Until it came to my turn. By the time it got to my turn the vintage punch bowl had been stolen three times and was no longer in play. The beautiful homemade owl blanket had been stolen three times and was no longer in play. The cool stripey scarf and the homemade painting had both been stolen three times each and were no longer in play. The amazingly precious, much sought after, by me, ceramic owl had been stolen three times and was no longer in play.
BLASTED!!!! I wanted that owl, and that dang punch bowl. Basically, all things my heart desired had been stolen so many times I did not stand a chance. So I stole the adorable sunflower pyrex bowls knowing that some heartless fool would take them from my desperate hands the first chance she got. And I was right.
So I opened a new gift.
Sex magnets.
Yep, you heard me. Fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind.I have teenagers, for crying out loud! What on earth am I going to do with fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind?
I'm pretty sure I am going to do nothing with fridge poetry of the sexual innuendo kind.
And surprise surprise, no one wanted to steal it from me either so I ended up with with sex magnets. This is not even something I can regift because I don't know a single person who would want sex magnets. I doubt even the person who brought them would want them.
I wish I knew who it was so I could say a special prayer on her behalf this very night. I threw those blasted sex magnets into the gag gift exchange pile and the person who got them refused to take them home!
No one wants sex magnets!!
No one, I say.
So I took a perfectly lovely gift and came home with nothing. How does that work?! Boo, hiss.
But wow, the food was amazing. It is pretty awesome what women can create when they cook for the ones they love.
Their friends.
And I truly love my friends. I would throw myself on a fire fueled by sex magnets for any one of them.
Moving on, did you know that December 3rd is the opening day for Giving Tuesday? A new global movement for giving and sharing. I think it's splendid.
Some of you may already know that I volunteer with a program called Art a la Carte. This is a volunteer run program that provides art at the bedside of cancer patients who are hospital bound. I am their creative writer and I am truly honoured to be associated with such an amazing group of volunteers. Go to this link and see what awesomeness they are up to as of December 3rd, 2013.
If you feel so inclined, as I do on occasion, to give back then please click the link and write your letter. What a treat to be able to help in such a simple and unique way but to have it mean so much to someone in need.
Plus, it's Christmas.....and I know you are totally in the giving mood.
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