Pregnancy for Dummies

Hey, I am doing some research and would like to know:

What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!

And a Merry Christmas to You too.

Richard is in the kitchen making candy right now. It is kind of his Christmas thing. It is what he does. What he is. And it is one of the main reasons I married him. Cuz a motorcycle AND candy making?? Irresistible. And delicious. So he is in there stirring a bubbly pot of sugary goodness and he is wearing an apron. A black, manly apron, lest you get the wrong idea. My mom gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago and he just doesn't wear it often enough. Because I like it. Apparently aprons work for me. But that's not all.

A couple weeks ago at his parents house he was wearing a headset to test it out for his mom. And I was nuts for it! I guess tech support reps are my cup of tea. Tech Support Guys and Fry Cooks. They say that women love a man in uniform, but I really didn't know this about myself.

But all of that is really beside the point. I just came to say Merry Christmas! And even though I never write anymore, I still like you a whole bunch and I hope your Christmas is swell!

A New Nativity

A few years ago I started to realize that in almost every nativity scene, Mary and Joseph are just looking down on Jesus in his manger. Gazing adoringly at him from afar the same as everyone else. And it started to bug me. Why wasn’t Mary holding Jesus? It is nice that they are worshipping him and everything, but he was just born! Why isn't she holding him? What mother would lay her brand new baby down in the hay and then just stand around with all her visitors and farm animals just looking at him? Ok, it really doesn't sound THAT weird, especially if he was asleep. But if they were going to be getting their pictures taken then OF COURSE she would pick him up.

This seemed so glaringly obvious to me, that I began a quest to search for, and ultimately buy, any nativity set I saw where Jesus was being held. They were rare, but I always managed to find a couple. However, in the last couple of years they seem to be everywhere. It has gotten to the point where I can no longer buy every one I see. I think I saw about 9 at one store alone last year. So I’ve decided to just buy one a year. This make me happy. My collection is growing but my husband doesn’t have to take up a paper route just to fund my crèche obsession.

And I found this nativity a couple of weeks ago, instantly fell in love with it and bought it.

Isn't it pretty?

When my husband got home from work, I excitedly showed it to him (because, like any man, if there is one thing he is interested in it is Christmas Decorations) and said, “Look what I bought!” And he said “Last year?” I said, “What? No, I JUST bought this.” He said, “You bought that last year.” Baffled and exasperated I said “WHAT?” He said “That is the one you bought last year.” Understanding finally dawned and I said “No…. wait, really? No, it isn’t. Is it? No it’s not!” And then Richard explained to me how last year, at the same time, I had excitedly shown him this very figurine, and it was now wrapped up with the Christmas stuff in the attic.

Well he is never wrong. I got this one at the Hospital gift shop, and suddenly could almost remember buying the last one at the Hospital gift shop too. Gee, it almost sounds like my holidays are spent in selfless service visiting the sick and afflicted. I wish that were true. I actually don’t remember why I was there, though I am sure that I WAS there. Yeah, obviously I have some memory problems.

So the other day, just to solidify my fuzzy thoughts, I climbed up into the attic and pulled out the Christmas stuff. And lo, what did I find but no nativity like this one. Not even one that was very similar. There was a white one that was about the same size and I am guessing that was the one he was thinking of, but I can't believe he so totally convinced me! It's like he planted the memory of me buying it twice in my mind with his words. Darn him and his Jedi mind tricks! What else has he convinced me of?

More Unrelated Thoughts

When I was in middle school (6th or 7th grade) I decided I really liked the song "Rock Lobster" by The B52's. So one night while I was at the mall with my friends (which really didn't happen all that often. Those were different times. The only time I ever went to the mall was during a slumber party) I bought their tape. I'm pretty sure it was the first tape I ever bought. It wasn't till I got home and started listening to it that I realized I must have made a mistake. The songs didn't sound right at all!!

Turns out what I bought was UB40, not B52s. (which is Reggae, instead of the slightly wacky party band sound of the B52s.) A common mistake, surely. One anyone could have made. You would think I would have at least checked to make sure I was getting the right B52's album, but maybe the possibility that they might have more than one album didn't even occur to me. So, what the hey? I kept it and listened to it all the time over the next few years. I've often wondered if I might have turned out differently if I had spent my formative years listening to the B52's instead of UB40. Someone should test this on their children, to see what happens.


You know those commercials for stuff that "isn't sold in any store", like paper cutters, can openers, mini hamburger cookers etc? They really want to stress that getting along without their product is nearly impossible, so to do that they show people having a hard time. And you always just see the hands. You'll see some hands trying clumsily to strain some spaghetti noodles, but they end up dumping the noodles all over the place. Or you'll see the hands trying desperately to cut out a picture but "cutting a strait line with scissors is almost impossible!"

These commercials have always made me laugh and laugh until today, when I realized that they are very sad. It is probably just one lady. She has been hired to do all these commercials, and she is trying her hardest, but nothing seems to be working out for her.

I made some hamburgers the other day, but when I tried to flip them over they just flew out of the pan. So I kinda know how she feels. Poor lady. Can't do anything right, and the whole world knows it.

On my Google Calendar, tomorrow is listed as towel day. Not like National Towel Day or anything like that. It is a calendar Item that I entered all by myself. What the what?


I had a dream last night that I started taking a gymnastics and deportment class (because everyone knows the two really go hand in hand) at a local community center. In the class we did things like going from laying on our backs to sitting up, gracefully. And from sitting to standing, gracefully. And all with a very large purse on our shoulder. Advanced stuff. Once we had mastered sitting and standing we worked on moving our purse from our right shoulder to our left, with a little flick and a flourish. I just know these skills are going to come in real handy some day.

I'm not writing this either.

So I have learned that I can either blog or clean my house and cook for my family, and I have chosen to cook and clean. (It isn't the right decision for everyone.) But I can't disappoint the masses! I mean, I would if I could, but I don't know how to reach them, so I will have to settle for disappointing you lot (er, I mean, you guys. Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who). Just when you were thinking "Phew! No more to read from Elesa!" here I am again. I don't have anything new to write, but I have loads of old stuff that I started and never finished. So I will give you some of that. I gotta disappoint someone.

So here is something. I don't even know when I wrote this. I found it on my external hard drive. I don't think I ever posted this, did I?

I have been catching up on some old scrapbooking lately. Some really old pictures. Scrapbooking is always a time for reflection and a little nostalgia. But mostly wonder. Wonder at the way I used to be. Am I forever doomed to look back on myself in the past and shake my head? Must I always think “What was I wearing?” “Why did I act so dumb?” “I really left the house with my hair like that?” “Wow, thank goodness I am smarter now”.

I mean, it is nice and all, to know that I am much wiser with better style than I used to be. But still. I remember when I was in college, thinking how nice it was not to be in High school anymore. Boy, was I dumb in High School. Thank goodness I am so smart now. But NOW, I look back at myself in college and I think “Boy, was I dumb in College. Thank goodness I am so smart now.” Only now am I beginning to realize that the chances are that in 5 years I’ll look back on myself now and think “boy, was I dumb”.

I guess it is good that I am still growing and learning. And what a shame it would be if I reached the height of my wisdom at 30. But I am smart enough now to realize how dumb I really am, and probably will be for a very long time. Which is kind of a sad thought.

I am Elesa. I am dumb. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I Don't Write Anymore (and this is no exception)

The wider my readership gets (We just jumped to 6!) The more difficult it becomes to write stuff. I feel like too many of you will think my stuff is dumb. And you might. But that is the risk I run when I post things online for the world and my Ward to read.

Today, I don't much care. I've got this stuff that I've never published because I know it is dumb. But I am going to publish it now because it makes me laugh. And that is what really matters. That's right. Not any of you sorry suckers. But me! ME!

And I was just about to apologize for what comes next, because I KNOW I have done it to death, but I'm not gonna! Let's just agree that if you are bored, you won't read it and I can continue to write mind-numbingly stupid things in blissful ignorance. That is the dream you know. THE dream.

Back when I was doing all that translation stuff(and at this point it behooves me to once again mention Lance, who did it first), this is the first thing I wrote to translate, but decided that it was too long for my purposes. Lucky for me and my fancy I kept it, and here it is:

Lost in Translation The Story in English:

Here is a story. It is a good one too. You just hold on to your hat because this may be the best story you have ever read. I hope not though, really, because that would be a pretty sad commentary on the stories you have come into contact with in your life so far. Pretty sad!

So, once upon a time, there was this monkey's uncle. (Once monkeys become uncles they are no longer referred to as monkeys, but as uncles of monkeys. It is a high honor to reach this stage of life, and the term is one of deep respect.) So, this Monkey's Uncle, whose name was Milton (though he preferred to be called Sir Milton, the Monkey's Uncle, which everyone thought was a bit too pompous, even for him) was walking through a charming grove of trees admiring the wildlife, when he suddenly found himself falling into a hole.

"Great Gravity!" he exclaimed, with more dignity that you or I could manage under such circumstances, and landed in a heap. He untangled his remarkably long arms from his unremarkably short legs and looked around at the pit he now found himself in. It was not much to look at -- pits never are -- and cleared his throat. He remained dignified, despite his surroundings, until he discovered that, in falling, he had landed on and crushed beyond repair his Top Hat. It was his favorite one too.

With that, he plopped himself down and had a good long cry. And I say, Good For Him! If you can't bawl like a baby at the bottom of a ten foot hole in the ground, where can you?

English to Japanese to Chinese to German etc.

Here it is a history. This is a good idea. Because perhaps, this is the story where a certain thing which you read is best, it hangs on exactly in your hat. I hope no however, really, because these would be enough sad comments in the histories to get in touch with the past in your life. Enough sad!

Thus, did a time and a time, exist this uncle of the monkey. (As soon as the apes become divine they are not reported more as apes, but as uncles of apes. It is the high reputation in order to achieved this stage of life, and the term of from profound respect.) Thus, this uncle of the monkey, which name was Milton (even if it is telephoned Sir Milton, the Monkey the uncle, we all thought it was a bit too exaggerated, Monkey you liked.) walked even excessively via an enchanting orchard admiring the wild nature, when he was found suddenly in the hands of a hole.

"The Large One Seriousness!" He exclaimed, it could manage him in such a case, and landing with the accumulation many dignity, you shouted. The impressively large untangled the arms of his short foot and take a look into the pits. He was not a lot in order to it examines - it is not never - and cleaned his neck. He remained decent, despite his outskirts, until it discovered that, as for him with the falling, it had been landed, and had shattered beyond the repair, his flattery. This is his favorite one.

In this way he fell with a splash. With this, it had a good long-lasting cry. And I am good because of that, you say! If you cannot scream like a child to the fund of a hole of 10 legs in the ground, is possible somewhere, you yell?

That is Just Sick

All right. Here is the scoop. The skinny. The scuttlebutt. Someone very close to me may or may not have the Swine Flu. Not that I would tell you if they did. And I certainly wouldn't post it on the internet. That would be way too embarrassing.

Why, you ask? What is the big deal, you ask? Because it is called the SWINE flu. Which basically means that you are a dirty pig. Might as well call it the Germ-infested Mud-hole flu, since it feels about the same. Why couldn't it be called something tragically romantic, like Scarlet Fever? I've always wanted to get Scarlet Fever. Doesn't it sound lovely? Dying from Scarlet Fever is right up there with dying from a broken heart on the romance scales.

The Swine Flu Council really screwed themselves over when they decided to name this strain of Influenza after pigs. I don't care if it did start out as a pig virus. Nobody wants to have an infectious disease named after a barnyard animal. No one really minded coming down with the Bird Flu, but Mad-Cow disease? No way. Sure, they often use the designation "H1N1", which is like sugar coating bat guano, because if you tell someone you have "H1N1", their first thought is always "Oh, right! That's that dirty pig disease! Stay away from me!"

Over the years the Disease Naming Committee in Washington, D.C. have made lots of similar disease naming mistakes. Don't they know what they are doing? Can't they see that it is all in the name? The real problem with Swine Flu is not its symptoms, but its name, and it is not the first disease to be maligned this way--Cat Scratch Fever? Who'd want to catch that?--while on the other hand, people are falling all over themselves to catch diseases like Anthrax, just because they sound so cool. Then there is Gas Gangrene, which is just adding insult to injury, but African Sleeping Sickness really sounds exotic! Canefield Fever? I don't know what that is, but it sounds nice. Dum Dum Disease? Well really! Who wants to tell their friends that diagnosis! And we still have to look out for Jock Itch, Lemming Fever, and Oral Hairy Leukoplakia.

So what's the take home lesson? CDC, if you want people to want to succumb to these diseases, you are going to have to step things up a bit. Use exciting words like "Jazz", "Spaceship", "Magic" or "Cash". Look at Rock and Roll Lyrics if you are out of ideas. Who doesn't want to come down with a raging case of The Boogie Woogie Blues, or Jungle Fever? Come on! Have fun with it!

To recap; Barn yard animals: Bad, glamorous vacation destinations: Good. Use words that compliment the infirm, like Smallpox, instead of derogatory words, as in Largepox or Dumb-n-Uglypox. Avoid words that make people giggle; while Swimmer's Ear is ok, Swimmer's Itch is definitely not. And when in doubt, use a different word altogether; Traveler's Diarrhea is questionable, but Traveler's Flux gets two thumbs up from me!

So Come On! Let's all work hand in hand to raise awareness of the danger of diseases with humiliating names. Together, we can come up with illnesses that people will be proud to get, and prouder to share with their friends and family!

Best Read After Midnight

Harrison and I went on a little Pumpkin Picking field trip yesterday, after which they gave us doughnuts and coloring books. Score! And I guess I was just tired enough that I found the coloring book hilarious and couldn't stop giggling about it all the way home.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures out of it. No doubt I am breaking several copyright laws:

Oh boy, yeah. I can totally relate to this girl. Hasn't this exact thought passed through all our minds at one time or another?

Hey! I took that class! I paid $250 for the book at the beginning of the semester and the bookstore would only buy it back for 10 bucks when the class ended. Such a ripoff!

Ooh, but here is a little something thrown in just for Mom!
I never knew pumpkin farmers were so. . . shirtless. I'm starting to gain a whole new respect for October.

Truly, there is no more romantic moment in a young girl's life than being helped down off a gargantuan pumpkin by her beau. Yes, there really is no squash more romantic than a pumpkin. Did Cinderella ride to the ball in a giant zucchini? Of course not. Because zucchinis are as ridiculous as pumpkins are regal.

Here is a little guessing game! Who in the above picture is thinking the following: "Boy, if you laugh at one more pumpkin today, I swear on my candle I will hunt you down and bring down a hurt on your hairy little head like you have never known!!"

And, lastly, this little gem:
Note the caption. Ironically, that is also eHarmony's new slogan. What are the odds?

Incidentally, Harrison loved the pumpkin patch, and loves the little pumpkin he brought home. He set in front of the heater all day so that it wouldn't get cold and is sleeping with it right now. Aww.

I Was Betrayed By the Internet

My computer is the biggest time/brain suck in my life. Example:

I will be in the middle of making dinner, and trying to figure out what time to have everything done by, and will sit down at my computer to IM my husband and ask him what time he is getting home.

But when I sit down, Gmail pops up to tell me that I have a new email from LDS Family Services telling me about the next Adoption Workshop we need to attend, so I will open my email just for a second to read that one message. And then I see an email from Facebook telling me that Marion has just tagged me in a picture, so I gotta check that out really quick, and because it is a truly horrible picture, I figure I need to retaliate by posting a bunch of humiliating pictures of her, so I scan in some of my own pictures (which I'm sure will only take a minute). While those are scanning I jump back over to my email and see an ad for discounts on lawn chairs, which reminds me that I have been wanting to look at a new bedding set, so I will start searching to see if I can find any good deals online. I end up at Amazon, and when I add something to my cart I see all the movies I have added in the past, which makes me wonder; When is Sherlock Holmes coming out? So I take a quick trip over to to see what movies are coming out in the next 6 months or so and end up watching movie trailers for the next half hour and then see that there is a movie coming out starring that kid who played Erkle and I wonder if he has done anything else in the last 20 years, so I stroll on over to IMDB where I am sucked into a wormhole.

Before I know what has happened HOURS have past, Richard is home from work and passed out from hunger in front of the TV, and Harrison has figured out how to make a bomb out of flour, paprika, and a toilet plunger, and actually managed to blow up the kitchen. And that is without me even peeking at anyone's blog.

I wish this were an exaggeration, but it is true! I sit down for 1 little thing, and before I know it, an hour has passed, I have no idea why I sat down in the first place and my real, actual life is passing by around me, while my brain has basically shut off! How am I supposed to live like that? And now I have no kitchen!

Needless to say, I really try not to get on line much these days.

Ok. And that isn't ALL true. In that scenario Richard would never let himself pass out from hunger. He is perfectly capable of getting his own food. He probably would have eaten 5 or 6 bowls of cold cereal and some pepperoni and called it good.

Eating in the car? Yes or no?

Ha. Just kidding. Of course Yes! What else am I supposed to do? Drive? Pay attention? Let's don't be ridiculous here. Everyone's favorite car activity is eating, and that is more true for children than for anyone.

But I am far too conscientious to give my child something like goldfish crackers or cheerios to snack on while we are on the road:

That's a bowl o' mashed potatoes. Food that sticks to your ribs, that's how we do it. When he finishes those off, I'm going to pass him back a steak (medium-well) and then a head of lettuce and a bottle of ranch. He's a lucky, lucky boy!

Jean Therapy

Today I took a little trip to Buckle, in the mall. I need new jeans. In a bad way. And Buckle has always been there for me when I've needed jeans in the past. I like their jeans, but what I like BEST is that they carry jeans in multiple lengths, so I can get jeans as long as my heart desires. Jeans that go all the way to the floor. Jeans that go past my feet. Jeans that don't quit, if I feel like it.

So I went to Buckle, and grabbed about 10 pair of jeans to try on and went into a dressing room. I had a 2 year old with me, of course. Why would I want to go shopping without one? While I tried on pants, Harrison alternated between opening the door right when I had my drawers around my ankles, or hanging from the railing in the room and screaming "MA!!" as loudly as he could. Good times.

But unfortunately, I didn't find a single pair of jeans I liked! And I'm afraid that the reason is that I am too old to shop at Buckle anymore. I was sure I would find the perfect pair of jeans, but all the jeans had funky washes and very funky pockets. I am just too old to walk around with stars on my bum!

So when I got home I vented my frustration to Richard. Either I have aged more than I thought in the last couple of years, or jeans are just a lot more blinged-out than they used to be. I just need somewhere I can find nice jeans designed for a woman, in multiple lengths and sizes, but where can I go?

Richard's oh-so-helpful answer was:

My Bag Runneth Over

I decided that today felt like a good day to take a break from "Eureka" and do me a little writing. But only a little. I have a lot of "Eureka" episodes to watch, and I know where my priorities are.

So I been needin' me a new temple bag. (a.k.a. the bag I hold my items in when I attend The Temple.) The old one was too small. Cute, but failing in its most basic function, which is to hold my stuff. I have been putting off finding a new bag because I just didn't feel like it. Besides that I already have tons of bags. More bags than my husband has watches, which is really saying something. Why should I go pay money for a bag when I have a plethora taking over my closet as it is?

So the other day I pulled out every unused bag I could find so that I could choose one to be my new temple bag, and wouldn't you know, they are ALL too small! Who'da thunk? I was as shocked as I know you are at this point, but still not wanting to spend any real money to get a new one, I took a trip to D.I. And, as usual, I found just what I was looking for.

Not bad for $1.50, I say. My loot all fits inside and it zips up and everything. And it doesn't smell like poo at all.

I was pleased with my find, and figured while I was there, maybe I should get a new temple bag for Richard too. He is always complaining that his is covered with axle grease, or carburator juice or something like that, and wouldn't I just be the most thoughtful wife if I brought him home a new bag too?

Well, I am good at finding things, diamonds-in-the-rough are my specialty and I found just the thing for Richard's new temple bag!

Imagine my surprise when Richard said he didn't want it. I think his actual words were "Get that plastic thing away from me." I swear, I was never so shocked in my life. Where is the love?

Shelf Life?

I went to all the trouble to get Harrison a new bed, and where do I find him sleeping?

And of course he had to pull down every single item off his shelves to be able to get up there.

I'd like to think the expression on his face indicates some kind of remorse for his actions, but I know better.

You Got a Little Something... No, Not There... Not There.. Yep, That's It. You Got It.

Yesterday I had a night out with some of my friends. My "girlfriends" technically (in that they are female) but I have always hated that word. Or I've hated being forced to specify the gender of my friends every time I mention them. But anyway! We went out to dinner. And lucky me, we went to Tepanyaki! I think I've mentioned before how much I like it.

Our chef - or whatever you call him - was awesome. Very young and funny and good at chopping meat. Good looking too, though I've always been a sucker for anyone wielding an enormous knife. But then he started smiling at me a lot and said something about my mouth. That was just weird. And that's when I looked down and noticed I wasn't wearing my wedding ring! I gasped in dismay and horror. Oh No! Taking off my ring must have deactivated my film of oldness! No wonder he was giving me the eye! Men would be powerless beneath my gaze!

I immediately went into Maximum Male Repellent Mode, and started biting my fingernails, snorting audibly, making loud references to my husband, and belching theatrically in hopes of deterring him (and I never do that stuff under normal circumstances). And it worked like a charm! I could almost see the hearts in his eyes fade out and die. I would be getting no proposals of marriage that evening!

So I was congratulating my obviously irresistible self on dodging a bullet as I dashed into the ladies room on our way out. When I looked in the mirror it occurred to me that when he mentioned my mouth, what he was actually referring to was my chronic dribbling, which he probably thought was cool. (Some people must like it - the dribbling I mean - or there wouldn't be all those Rest Home Casanovas, and we know there are.)
Cuz see my shirt?

It did not look like that when I left the house. I am almost 89% positive. So, yeah. Look out, folks. Contrary to everything you believe, being a shockingly messy eater might actually be considered attractive to the opposite gender, so watch where you are drooling. And if you are in the market, you might want to think about serving corn-on-the-cob and watermelon at your next single adult activity, and just see if that doesn't get people in the mood!

The Corn Conundrum

I love Corn-on-the-Cob Season. I look forward to it all year. You want to know my favorite thing about corn on the cob? Butter. Yep. It's true. I'm sorry to say it, (Well, not that sorry. You all feel the same, I know you do.) but butter is actually the best part of most vegetables. However, there is no other vegetable that I get to eat with quite as much butter as corn. And for that, I adore it.

I always eat my corn the same way. Left to right, like a typewriter, holding the small side in my left hand. Then I butter a strip about 4 kernels high, salt it the proper amount, and eat it like a little chewing machine: nom, nom, nom, until -DING!- I get to the end. Then I butter the next strip and do it again. I was wondering why I only butter one strip at a time until I watched Richard. He butters the whole thing at once, and ends up with all this butter dripped all over his plate. Not me! With my method I don't waste a single drop of that precious yellow substance. And I feel good about that. (Course, one could always lick their plate afterward, but that is a personal choice, and too controversial a subject to be discussed here.)

I asked Richard if he has a specific way he always eats his corn and he said "Fast."

Here is the problem with corn though. Hand in hand with cobbed-corn goes BBQ's. We say we are celebrating all these summer holidays when we get together, but really we are just celebrating the corn. At least I am. But the problem is, corn-on-the-cob is not really a food that should be eaten in mixed company. For one thing, it really isn't a pretty sight. Take me for instance: Imagine a wild board eating a slice of watermelon, and you'll have a pretty good picture of what it looks like when I eat corn on the cob. (Which can be quite a shock to someone seeing it for the first time. I am as delicate and graceful as a flower in every other way.)

And then of course, at this group gathering, right in the middle of your corn fest, someone will walk up and ask you a question.

"Hey Elesa! What the heck is up with your toes? They are super weird looking! Tell me the story?" So I come up from my cob, like a predator interrupted in the middle of eating his prey, and attempt to chat like a normal person, fully conscious of the corn kernel carcasses dangling between each tooth, and the butter dripping down my chin. So I either have to try to talk while hiding behind my cob, or just act like it totally doesn't bother me, and like I could talk with corn in my teeth and butter on my face all day if I felt like it, and still be very awesome and ladylike.

I don't know which option is better. I don't know how to solve the quandary that is corn. I just know that I'm not sure I want to be ok with socializing while my face is covered with food. I grew out of that in like the 9th grade. But I also don't want to have to set down my corn mid-cob and have to wipe my face and floss my teeth just because someone wants to make small talk. I have no idea how long that conversation is going to last. What if my corn is cold by the time they wander off and I get to pick it up again?

But what can we do? Must we eat our corn in our closets? Or will we be forced to cut the corn off our cobs so that we can eat it the way them High Society Folks do, with a fork?!?

The Fat Alarm

Our smoke alarm is really more of a fat alarm than anything else. The only time it ever goes off is when we are frying food. There is never any smoke. Never any fire. No cause for concern at all. But that stupid white disc attached to my ceiling starts beeping the minute I throw something in a pan of oil. And if we are deep frying, it continues to go off about every 5 minutes. To which I take umbrage! What right does that little battery operate contraption have to pass judgment on the food I eat? If I wanted to eat a whole vat of fat (and come on, who doesn't?) I should be able to do so without my household safety devices giving me grief about it.

Though now that I think about it, I wonder if The Fat Alarm would sell? We could call it "Lard Alert", or "The Blubber Buzzer", or something super catchy like that. Would people pay money for a doohickey that reminds them that they are making poor food choices? What if, instead of beeping, it said things like"Are you sure you want to eat that?" or "Step away from the Frying Pan!"? My smoke alarms are all linked so that if one goes off for a certain amount of time, the others throughout the house go off too. The would be a good feature in the Fat Alarm too. So that if you try to sneak in some deep fried twinkies late at night, your spouse, who is watching "Conan" in bed, will be sure to know about it.

Adventures in Decorating: A Few Lessons Learned While Painting A Bed

Well, my two year old figured out how to climb out of his crib. I actually thought this day might not ever come. He is very little. The crib walls still come up to his armpits. I thought we were safe. But one night we put him to bed, grabbed the baby monitor and went to work in the yard. And when we came back in the house an hour later he was wandering around the living room! He had not only figured out how to escape, but he had also done it without making any noise at all.

So, obviously, it was time. I wanted to go out and get him a bed, but Richard said he wants to build one. That is fine. It will no doubt be very awesome. Whenever he actually gets around to it. Someday.

We put his little mattress on the floor, but I thought the whole GOING TO BED thing might be more effective if it looked more like a bed, so I convinced Richard to let me get a little something, just until he has time to do his building. So I found a cheap little metal thing on KSL and made it mine!! Then I bought a can of spray paint at the local 5 and dime, and got to work. And I learned things about painting a bed that I didn't know before. And I want you to know them too. So HERE:

  1. Obtain a bed. You might think that this step goes without saying, but let's stay on the safe side, and say it anyway. Just in case. And don't spray paint the mattress. We're talking about the bed frame here. Again, this should be a given, but I find it is safest to cover all our bases.
  2. Sand away any rough patches and imperfections on the bed frame. Lightly sand any existing paint so that new paint will stick to it. This only took me about 30 minutes to do. It would have been even faster, but I sanded for about 15 minutes using the wrong side of the sand paper, so I had to do it over again.
  3. Use the right side of the sand paper.

  1. As much as possible, work out on your front porch or in the front yard so that your neighbors and passersby will think you are a hard worker. Dramatically wipe your brow from time to time so that they will take pity on you and offer you a cold glass of lemonade.
  2. Protect those surfaces you DON'T want painted. I laid a sheet of plywood down so that I wouldn't get paint all over the ground. Our "Lawn" is pretty (see fig. 1), and must be protected at all cost.
  3. Just Go For It: This was really my first time spray painting. (Not counting back in the day, when I used to spray paint things under the overpass, like "Modest is the Hottest" and "Have you see my Cat?" and things like that.) But I figured I really couldn't mess it up. What could be easier? All I had to do was press a button and wave my hand around. And I've been doing that with the TV remote for years!
  4. Do 2 or more LIGHT coats: About 3 minutes into it I realized that I COULD mess it up and I probably already had. That stuff coats fast and it will start dripping down the sides before you know it. That is when you thank your lucky stars that you only paid $15.00 for this silly bed and it really doesn't matter that much!!!
  5. Overestimate. I figured it would take me about a half a can of spray paint to do the bed, and planned to have enough left over to paint a little set of table and chairs as well. I was wrong of course. It took me a little less than 4 cans of spray paint. And because I kept figuring that SURELY this can would do it, I had to go back to the store 3 times. Argh!

But now it is done! The little boy is thrilled which is worth every minute spent. And if we stay a nice comfortable distance away it really looks pretty good. And with the white sheet and pillow on it it reminds me of a bed in a mental institution. Which is rather fitting.

Welcome home, Bed.

Love: The International Language*

Ming Ming and Dimitri met one balmy Sunday on Facebook, love's playground. They speak two very different languages, but when 2 people find out they are BOTH fans of breathing, they won't let anything keep them apart. Here is Volume 1 of their story.

*A long distance, translingual romance, made possible by Babel Fish.

Expensive Ming Ming,

Hey. What's upward? It was so cold in order to have a talk with you to Skype another day. I'm you are sufficiently certain as my girl or something of dream. Your hair so of by the length. I love that. My last girl friend had actually short of hair and I was as "You must grow your out" hair; and it was as "It the doll of wig A.S. I do have no bulbs of hair on my head, I do recall?" So I was as "Whatever."

But since then I met you to Facebook my life is actually good. Thanks for to always be there for me and message me the images of your tomcat. But you must send by me the complete survey of body. That of what girl friend they make. And I want you to be my.

love, Dimitri

Most nice Dimitri,

The kindest greeting. Is your nice oneself vigorous in mind? I receiving your most recent agreement, was very delightful. However, I must correct one mistake. The image which I send the image which does not have my cat, but the sibling of my baby, was image of Li and was not. He is hairy very. But I still him dearly, enjoy the fact that of he is taken care. That is my obligation. I doing that, am very happy.

I inquiring about that is cool there am regrettable. The weather here is splendid very, feeling is good. I maintain my hair always. As for me it is not possible to cut that. My parent does not permit that.

The eulogy whose everything which you pay to me is splendid that you. I me am the girl simple, you that to my your note has many happiness in me. I laughed I hiding in my shoes, after recieving your photograph which is always put between many times. If I send that to me, entering in investigation, it is happy. I have enjoyed listening for the second time from you.

many love, Ming Ming

You're a Robe and Walking Stick

(This post is brought to you by Lance, who did it first. Thanks Lance!)

Folks, it is time to address an issue that plagues every single one of us, every single day. Some of us even face it multiple times a day. It is so easy to pretend that it isn't a problem as we go about our business, but then all the sudden we get an email from a French Dignitary and it is written in French! How will we read it? And worse than that, how will we ever respond? Back in the day you had to pull out your highschool French Textbook and spend hours translating and retranslating, but no more! Now, through the miracle of technology, you can translate anything online

This truly is a miracle and a time saving one at that (the best kind) but the question you might be asking now is, "Which translator should I use?" With that question in mind I have tested out a few of the most popular translator programs so that you don't have to. Just review the results below and pick which one you like the best!

Here is the text we will be translating:
Mindless rambling. Though you could argue that this sentence feels more like a prison term than a line of text. Why are you torturing me? Just make me a root beer float so that I can go and put on my wizard costume. I look amazing in my robe and wand. Goodbye. - English to Italian to English
Unreasonable wanderer. Although she could discuss that this sentence hears more loving a limit of prison of a line a text. Why does she torture me? The right mark me one floating soft drink flavored with summaries of root in manner that I can go and I can put on my magical custom. I have a bell' appearance in my bathrobe and in the stick. Goodbye.

Yahoo! Babel Fish - English to Chinese to English
Unconsciousness strolls. Although you possibly argued, this sentence compared to the line likely felt more imprisoned than text. Why do you torture me? Please make my American elegant ice cream, so that you may go to put on my witchcraft teacher clothing. I look astonishingly in mine long gown and the whip. Goodbye.

Google Translate - English to Japanese to Spanish to Japanese to English
Demolition nonsense. However, this court, rather than lines of text, you may claim to feel like a prison. Or harass me? Yo, I like root beer floats, and wearing a wizard costume. I can not go. Call me a robe and walking stick. Bye-bye. - English to Klingon to English
Being meaningless, the fast movement. This assertion can prove the fact that the text you feel may like appointment of the prison from the line of the ceremony of burial. But why am I tormented? Only do me the navigation of the Blood Wine in such a way that I could go and honor my enchanting suit. I look at my clothing and d'k tahg strangley. Success!

There you have it. I daresay all your problems are solved. Don't thank me. My work is its own reward. Have a great Pioneer Day, and as they say in Sweden "You look fantastic in your bathrobe and trollspa." Bye-bye!

6 Tips to Taking Great Pictures

You may not know this, but I took a photography class my senior year of High School, which pretty much fully qualifies me to teach it. Now, you might think that one semester of Basic Photography would be sufficient for me to learn everything there is to know about photography, wouldn't you? But it isn't! There is loads of stuff they never told me, so I would like to pass on to you not only what I learned in school, but also the stuff I learned in the school of hard knocks they call "The Real World". No, not the TV show. Just, you know, the actual world that we all live in and stuff.

So here are 6 things to keep in mind whenever you step behind a camera.

Never under estimate the power of the element of surprise. Besides that it is just good fun to jump out at unsuspecting people with a camera, it might also be the only way to catch your subject. If they have warning, you might have photos that end up looking like this:

Timing really is everything and this applies to nothing more than to photography. You can hold your camera at the ready every minute of the day (and I strongly suggest that you do) but it will all be for naught if you don't push the button at the right moment. Don't take the picture and then tell people to smile. Don't wait until the candles are already blown out and the party is plunged into darkness and then snap your birthday photo. Stuff like that. It was impeccable timing that allowed me to get this shot:

If I had waited another second to snap this photo, I would have ended up with Richard and Harrison's faces actually IN the photo, which really would have ruined it.

I don't really know what this means actually. It always makes me think of pie. So I think it must mean that when you have a banana cream pie (or chocolate cupcakes), and there are three of you in the family, you need to divide it into three equal parts so that everyone gets a fair share. And make sure you take a picture to document your fairness so that no one can accuse you later of being a pig. See the picture below: He ate his daddy's third of the cupcakes and was caught on film, thus breaking the Rule of Thirds.

Takes Lots of pictures. The best way to insure that you get that perfect shot is through the law of averages; so the more pictures you take, the better chance you have of getting a good one. And if the little boy in the picture has lost his will to live by the end of the photo shoot, then you can rest easy knowing you have done a thorough job.

Lens not to putting your finger in front of must you.

And lastly, the best way to get good pictures is to take pictures of good things:


Oh, and this is really more of a parenting tip than a photography tip. If your child has their head stuck in a whipped cream tub, stop taking pictures for a minute and help them out.

Ok! Now get out there and snap some good ones!

Feedback on your feedback

Wow! Very good feedback everyone! (You can see that I am a fan of praise as a form of positive reinforcement) You had a bunch of good ideas and made lots of points that I hadn't even considered. I'm so glad I asked you. Course I had to scrap my card and start all over, but that isn't the point!

For those who are curious, I am ordering my cards though (and I forbid you to go look at their website and then come back to me and tell me how cute their pass along cards are and I really should have just ordered one of their designs. I know they are cute. I wanted to do my own. Can you please just LET IT GO?) I tried to print them myself, but my printer has made it clear that while it loves me and lives to serve me, it does still have limitations, and when I yell at it for not doing something that it is incapable of doing, it hurts its feelings.

So, now comes the uncomfortable part where I ask if any of you are interested in taking some of these cards to hand out as you see fit. (Thanks to those who have already volunteered!) And I know it is kind of a weird thing to do, so only take them if you want them. (Though, if you don't want to hand them out, you could always carry one in your wallet to pull out at parties to show people that you really do have friends, even if those friends suffer from some basic reproductive malfunctions).

Let me make it clear that I DO NOT want you to accost pregnant strangers. They get enough of that what with old ladies rubbing their bellies all the time. But please do hand them out when it seems appropriate and you feel impressed to do so.

And then just don't be offended when you see the cards and realize I didn't use any of your ideas. Hee hee hee! (Hmm. That laugh was supposed to be maniacal. But I think it came off sounding more like a little Japanese girl. Though I guess that works too.)

And, once again, Thank You All Very Much!

The Search for Baby #2 Continues.

Ok my smart, clever, and stylish readers, I need your opinions (all the rest of you can go). You have good taste and I need you to sprinkle some of it over here.

Ok, so I have been inspired to finish the Adoption Pass Along cards that I started MONTHS ago. (I would include a link to the story of how Pass Along cards helped one birth mother find the couple she chose to place her baby with, but that would require lots and lots of extra clicking. Geez, how much work do you want me to do here? I'm not a clicking machine you know........................ Oh, drat, now I feel guilty. OK! Here is the story. It is a pretty good one. And I had to click like 5 extra times to get it for you. And I am feeling it! Woo! I didn't expect to be working out today!)

Um, where was I? Oh! Pass Along Cards! Ok, so I finally finished mine, but I need some feedback. And I don't want you to be nice, I want you to be critical. A person could be deciding whether to give us their child or not based on this card! So keep in mind as you review it that your suggestions could directly affect my future happiness. No biggie, right? Ok.


Ok. Trying to decide which of the above is better. Is the LOVE behind the words on the right too distracting? Is it too plain without it? Other thoughts?


Are the fonts too big? Too small? Hard to read? And is it too much to have a picture on the front and the back? Does it seem way too busy? Will it be annoying to have the orientation different on the back than the front? Is the punctuation necessary? Other thoughts? Yes, I am obsessing, but we've already been over how important it is. I don't think I need to go over THAT again.

And thanks. I think you guys are special and pretty and nice.

It's Hard to Cook When You Are An Idiot.

I still do it though. And am STILL continually amazed at the boundlessness of my incompetence.

So, here is the latest thing I tried to make: Star-Studded Mini Pies! Click HERE to see the recipe on

Aren't they cute? And so incredibly easy. Refrigerated pie crust and canned pie filling. What could be easier? I didn't end up making them yesterday, though, because it just seemed like so much work at the time.

So I made them today instead. And things were going just great until I got to this very simple and basic step: "Gently roll the edge down with your fingers and then crimp it so it looks pretty." Sounds easy, but it seemed to be completely beyond me. I TRIED to roll the edges. but this is about the best I could do.

And my crimping looked more like I had sort of mushed it with my toes, or maybe beat at it with my elbows (which I did try, but it didn't help.) Look how pretty hers looks!

Yeah, that wasn't happening for me, so I gave up. Some can and some can't and there it is.

So then I got to the part that said to "dredge in sugar" I wasn't really sure what "dredge" meant in this context, but I figured it implied something like "increase mass by 100%" so, using sugar, that is what I did.

Mmmm. Is it even possible to use too much sugar? And, no, I didn't do a star. Because I didn't have one and since the 4th was yesterday I decided I was too late to be patriotic anyway, so I just did little circles. Not nearly as cute, but they served my purpose.

So, here is the finished product:

Looks like a jar of preserves sneezed all over my pancakes. Or like a battlefield from the Jelly Wars. Not quite as pretty as they should be. But that didn't stop us from eating them. Ha. Not in the least. The following picture was taken approximately 2.3 seconds after I took them out of the oven.

So, it is true! Looks aren't everything! You can be totally deformed and weird looking as long as you still taste good!


I sure hope that everyone who reads Pride and Prejudice based on my recommendation likes it. If you don't, then I suggest you read something like.......................................................... Hmm. I was going to suggest some really dumb book for you dummies who don't like Pride and Prejudice, but I can't think of one. Maybe because I don't read dumb books. Does that mean that a book is good because I read it? Yeah. I guess so.

The dumbest one I can think of is one I cannot remember the name of. About a girl who pretends to have amnesia and this weird old man says that she is his daughter and she goes along with it because I guess she doesn't want to break character and there is something about some valuable necklace and I don't know, but that girl was an idiot. I almost wish she had died in the end, just to teach her a lesson. And I know that at least one of you will be saying to yourself "Hey! That is my favorite book!" And for that I am sorry. To each his own.

So, I'm curious? What is the dumbest book you have ever read? A book you got to the end of and said to yourself "Why did I even finish that thing? Why did I devote any time to so much stupidness? Why? WHY?"

Reading, and Other Girlie Pursuits.

So, I just read Pride and Prejudice. First time. I had never felt all that inspired to read it, since I was always told that the BBC version of the movie was pretty much word for word. So, in essence, I had already read it, right? And I have to be honest, and I know I am going to upset some of you, when I say that when I saw the movie the first time - I think I was a junior in college - I really didn't love it. I'm sorry! It is the truth! And this is the internet. It is sacred. I won't be the one to besmirch the integrity of the internets by lying to you. You deserve better.

Never fear though. Since that first time I have seen Pride and Prejudice a bunch of times (it is in Richard's family what Anne of Green Gables was in mine) and liked it just fine. It is pretty long though. You gotta admit it. Come on.

But the point is that I LOVED the book! Who saw that coming? Did any of you expect that plot twist? How thrilling! And even though the BBC version of the movie is as close to the book as you can get, it still doesn't compare. Why? Because, for one thing, there is a joy to reading that a movie cannot provide. When you are reading a book, and it gets very exciting, you can close the book for a minute so that you can bury your head in your pillow and squeal for a while in excitement and anticipation. You can reread whole passages and then kick your legs in suspense and only move on when you are absolutely ready to do so. A movie just continues on without you whether you are ready or not. And yes, of course you can pause and rewind a movie, (which I did several times when I watched the new version of Pride and Prejudice today; I really like Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy), but it still isn't the same.

And so, I guess what I want to say is that, despite what my title says (and despite the embarrassing way I just described my own reading methods) reading is not just for girls anymore! If you think that you don't really care much for reading, I would argue that that is only because you haven't found the right book. So don't give up! It's out there! Ok. That is enough with the exclamation marks. Just thinking in exclamation marks makes me kinda tired. Better go take a quick nap!

Cake Decorating for You!

I haven't wanted to share much about my cake decorating with ya'll, cuz i didn't want you to be like "WHAAAT?" and then I would be like "I KNOOW!" and you'd be like "DAAAANG!" You can see why i hesitated. But the new the blog policy (that's blogicy to you) is: if I experience it, YOU experience it" (which is going to make Burrito week really fun) so lets look at a cake, shall we?

Last summer, i watched a whole lot of "Amazing wedding Cakes". and being married to my husband, who is the Do-It-Yourselfingest guy i've ever met, i decided I wanted to try to make a pretty cake all by myself. And since I am so impatient, I decided to make a 3 Teir cake. Cuz, why not? And my sister Demi had a bridal shower coming up, which would be the perfect excuse to make such a cake, so with seredipity on my side, i got cookin.

I just did the cakes from a mix to save time, though I have since looked for and tried out a few cake recipes from scratch, with varying levels of success. I made two mixes since I was making three tiers, and it took forever since I didn't have enough pans to cook it all at once. I was working on those silly cakes until midnight.

I let them cool overnight and officially started frosting the cakes the next morning. Applying frosting is very similar to applying spackle, but without the benefit of sanding afterward. Not only that, but sanded walls are usually still covered with texture to hide the imperfections. No such luck for me. I did a few layers of frosting, (including a crumb coating), but I just couldn't get it any smoother than this. Not bad for Cake #1 I suppose. I still had no idea how I was going to decorate it at this point (clearly a common problem for me) but i decided to just take it one thing at a time. Or rather, just 4 or 5 things at a time. Whatever.

I carved each layer so that it was a little bigger on the top than on the bottom, just to see if I could. Then I stuck 4 straws in each of the lower tiers to be used as supports for the tiers above - so the cake itself wasn't supporting all the weight. Then I stuck a wooden dowel through the entire cake once it was assembled to keep the tiers in place.

And then appeared this lovely ruffle. Things like this always seem to show up on my cakes. I beveled my cake, but forgot to trim my cardboard circle so I had to add a bunch of frosting to cover it up. Something about it reminds me of a very fancy Lei.

So, I wrapped each tier with a ribbon, (This would have worked so much better if the layer WASN'T beveled.) and not knowing what else to do I secured the ribbon with a strait pin. And thus was born the most excited of all shower games "Pins In the Cake"! And with an autumn theme for her wedding, I went to Joann's and found some autumny colored what-not and stuck it on the cake. And that was it. I just had to carry it on my lap all the way to the Bombay house. Transporting cakes is still something of a mystery to me.

Ya know, it kinda looks like a really fancy hat. How awesome would it be to wear a hat like that? Though it would be even better to wear a hat that was really cake. Nothing passes the time in a long business meeting like covertly nibbling on your hat. And I'm sure this look is more than appropriate for all your business meeting attire. Cake goes with everything!

Just thinking out loud.

I hope you folks are paying attention to the title here. Those aren't just words I typed in for kicks. They mean something. You might take it as a warning. I'm just saying.

So, OCCASIONALLY I will wonder what you people want to hear about. And I still don't know. So i thought about asking you. Maybe this would be another good time for a poll. I still haven't addressed the results of the last poll, which was very revealing, very revealing. But that is neither here nor there.

Lately, all I want to read about is food (so much so that sometimes I pull down my recipe folders and just flip through them for fun. For hours. Everyday.) so that makes me wonder, would YOU like to hear about food? But that is silly. Even if you did, (and come on, of course you do. Are we people or are we people?) coming to my blog to read about food is a little like going to a Star Trek convention to learn about Astronomy: more fun than you expected, but crammed full of weirdos who don't actually know anything.

So, what else is there? Should I write about my day? About books I read? about things my 2 year old does? About pictures I take? Dreams I have?

i was wondering all this when I realized that, not only should I probably write about all of it, but even if you told me not to, I would still do whatever I wanted anyway. So... sorry. I wanted your input, but wasn't actually going to listen to it. That is what happens when you jump on a train of thought in the middle of the tracks. You think you are headed for one destination, but it turns out you were going somewhere totally different. Like..... Nowheresville, Missouri.

However, if there is something that I have been lacking, information that only I can give - such as how many times it is possible for a person to fall UP a flight of stairs in one day - then let me know. If you are not getting the information you seek, tell me and I will try to put it right.

And because I am just thinking out loud, and it is late here in my head, I'm pretty sure this mostly doesn't make sense. And that is ok. Sometimes sense is not what you make of it, but what it makes of you.
I knew my day was off to a crappy start when I got out of the shower and started blowing dry my hair, only to notice that it looked like I hadn't even washed it. And then, for the life of me, I couldn't remember whether I had or not.

Hey! Would you look at that? It IS cake!

So I've mentioned before that I have sorta gotten into cake decorating. And it makes me feel like a spy. Because, like a spy, a cake decorator is only as good as their gadgets. Skill? Practice? Professional Training? Bah! It is all about the tools, and the professionals all know it.

So today we celebrated a birthday for my sister's twins, Gwen and Kreston. And I offered to make a cake. And as you may know, once you start decorating a cake it starts to take on a life of its own and all you really do it just direct it and hone it and turn it into what it was always meant to be.

But I was feeling really bad for all the cakes I've never made. I've got lots of nieces and nephews that I've never made cakes for (all the rest of them, come to think of it) and I really didn't want them to feel second best. A cake from Elesa is like a small piece of heaven after all.

I asked my sister if she had any requests, just for giggles, and then I promptly ignored all of them. I think I was really hoping for a request that was right along the lines of what I wanted to do anyway. but since I didn't know what that was, I had no such luck. And I was sort of having a hard time. I had no intention of making and decorating more than one cake, but how do you make a cake special for a 13 year old boy and girl? I really had no idea. So, I just made the cake whatever shape I wanted, which brought me to this point:

Whereupon I said, "What in the world should I do now?" which led me to the next logical decorating step. This:

Obviously, right? I mean, surely you would have done the same. It is only natural. I considered calling my sister to ask for Gwen and Kreston's favorite colors, but then thought better of it. If she told me their favorite colors, I might actually have to use them, and what if I didn't feel like it? No, this brown was definitely the right choice. I especially enjoy its Poo-esque qualities:

Soothing, isn't it? From there, it just felt right to keep the cake very simple, and write a lovely and concise inscription on it:

If you look closely you can tell that the first two words were actually wiped off and written over again. That's because I accidentally wrote "Mazel Tov" the first time. Whoops. Rookie Mistake. And I probably shouldn't admit it, but I just could not stop giggling to myself. This cake just tickled me pink. It really captured the essence of what I wanted to convey. I avoided the problem of how to decorate the cake to please both kids by pleasing neither of them. And I like the overall lack of other decorations and fanciness because it really says to every else "Yeah, I made them a cake, but I clearly don't love them more than you."

It also says "Poo Pearls go with everything." Which was way more than I bargained for, and is just really good to know.

(And I should probably apologize to the twins at this point, since I don't really think THEY were all that thrilled with their cake. I guess the one thing my cake didn't convey, if you can believe it, is how much I love the birthday boy and girl, which I do. Small flaw, right? It didn't even taste that great. But gosh, you can't please everyone?)

"Why would they manufacture deliberate ugliness unless they wanted me to look ugly? We find that out we find out everything."

The Princess Bride was on TV last night, so we watched it off and on. (That is how Richard likes to watch TV. AT LEAST 2 shows at once, if he can. Preferably more. I think he was watching about 4 different shows last night.) And it got me thinking. The last time I watched The Princess Bride was right after I bought it on DVD, around a year ago. But I still know all the lines. And I know. EVERYONE knows all the lines to Princess Bride, but I started wondering what other movies I have watched over and over through the years? Join me on this thrilling journey into my past!

The Great Race: One of the movies we always used to watch as kids. Heh heh, I loved the pie fight. We tried having our own pie fight once, but it didn't really go over that well. Turns out 12 year old boys tend to freak out if they get whipped cream in their eyes.

What's Up Doc: It's not even a black and white movie. I don't know why this picture is.

Anne of Green Gables: the TV recording we had was from one of those PBS telethons, so it was full of long segments of a couple of ladies talking in front of a room full of people taking donations over the phone. so annoying! but shucks, isn't Gilbert cute?

Mary Poppins & The Wizard of Oz: Mostly because my youngest sister Gaea watched them over and over.

I don't know what this picture is though, since dorothy's dress was blue. any smarty-pants out there want to enlighten us?

Star Wars: though it wasn't one of the movies i watched as a kid. As you can see, we mostly watched musicals around our house.

Popeye: Mostly after I got married. Not that Richard is a big fan or anything. But we have a copy (that I am guessing I stole from my parents) and my niece wanted to watch it every time we babysat. And i always watched it with her because it is so good. Oh, and because I am clearly such a great babysitter.

Connie and Carla: What is it about this movie that I like so much? They show it on TV every couple of months or so and I watch it every time. I can't help it. I just like it.

Lord of the Rings: Richard and I watch this every Christmas. We only have the extended version, so a good portion of our Christmas break is taken up this way, but what are we gonna do? Its tradition. And only a fool messes with tradition.

Still, hands down, the movie I have seen more than any other (and I am totally guessing here. I can do that you know. Make up stuff and claim that it is true. It's what separates us from the animals!) is The Princess Bride. and what surprises me that I discovered last night, is that even though i have seen it so many times, it still makes me laugh.

Oh, and of course, The Elephant Man. well loved by all.
just kidding. We watched it once and I was traumatized for a week. Sheesh, look at that picture. it still freaks me out. Anthony Hopkins is Terrifying! Ha. just kidding. he is though. Not to mention the guy with the flour sack on his head. it's creepy! I had nightmares every night. Not as bad as the time i saw Watcher in the Woods, mind you. THAT was a doozy.

Boy, some of those pictures are crummy. But taking crummy pictures is the other thing that separates us from the animals, so let's embrace it! So, what else? For those few of you who have stuck with this post this far, what movies did I miss? I guess I am really asking my family, not that they will answer. They all lost their hands below the wrist in an unfortunate holiday "accident". Worst Arbor Day Ever.

I know my readers are either nonexistent, shy, or missing all of their fingers, but I want to know: what movies have you seen more than any others? what movies scared you silly as a kid? Come on. just tell me! Spill the beans! AND, for the Grand Prize and a years supply of Turkey Dogs, what movie is my the title of this post from?

Well, gotta go. I've got UHF paused on the DVR and i gotta finish it before I can make dinner. I want your answers on my desk by morning!