Our Day with Birds in Virginia
My father-in-law, Jim Crawford is an anesthesiologist at Roanoke Memorial Hospital.
One of his partners is Paul Wolff.
Paul and his wife, Diane, have a few birds. Or else, 27, whichever.
They were wonderful and let us in their home tonight to talk with the birds.
And, they love Disney.
We had lunch at Nawab. Here is my mother-in-law, Phyllis, saving us a table. It was easily the best Indian food I’ve ever had.
We saw the Roanoke Star, walked around downtown and saw the scaled down model of the proposed building for the new art gallery which included tiny people. Who doesn’t love tiny people?
Christmas in Virginia
Click to go to the Virginia album.
Beautiful place, beautiful people.
More photos will be added soon.
Utah Photos
“We made it a whole year.”
“Phew. Let’s go for another one.”
“Alright. Double or nothing?”
*************************************************
“How do you spell anniversary?”
“A N N I V E R S A R Y”
“Dude. That’s exactly how I spelled it!”
“Congratulations.”
“It’s as cool as if I knew where Connecticut was on the map.”
I Got Married Last Year
Our wedding night was spent with all my kids and the honeymoon was spent with my kids at my parent’s house. My family threw us a surprise party/reception. It was a luau theme and Nate and Laurel spent the whole night in character.
At one point, everyone sat around in a circle and played Hot Potato with a coconut. If you were left holding the coconut when the music stopped, you had to give a piece of advice to the newly weds. Joe has a list of their advice posted here. My favorite: “Do as many things as you can with each other.” which we certainly have this year. You really can’t get more together than we are I don’t think. We wake up with each other, work with each other, eat, do errands and sleep with each other.
Here is what we sounded like.
Passed Out
“So, thanks for picking me up we had such an awesome time it was really, really fun and we danced, like, all night long, I mean, look, mom, I made a hole in two of the little toes in my toe-socks and it looks ridiculous but who cares, right, since it was so fun and I didn’t end up needing any money after all because her mom paid for me and I had an energy drink, like, at 3am so I wasn’t even tired all night long and we had some breakfast at her house.”
“Cool. Are you tired now? Want to take a nap?”
“Oh, no I couldn’t possibly I’m so wide awake and remember I had the energy drink so there is no way I could go to sleep and I’m sure I’ll be up all day and not even be tired.”
Like a Christmas Card, Only Better
Talk about an awesome day……..
Guess what Heather is saying?
Yes, I Made Them. Because I'm CRAFTY
I saw these great marble magnets on not martha so I decided to make them for Christmas presents this year.
Here’s how mine turned out:
Interview with Mrs. Kennedy
Mrs. Kennedy aka Ms. Fussy kindly agreed to an interview. You can read it here.
Simi Valley Crows, Part II
I brought up the crows awhile back. Apparently, here in Simi, we grow them resilient, sassy and with an insatiable desire to talk to every other crow within a 5 mile radius right now. Really, RIGHT. NOW. All at the same time. And they don’t seem to want to ever leave and go south. Isn’t that what they are supposed to do? Go freakin’ south already! I need to sleep in past dawn! You’re messing up my beauty sleep! And we all know I need it.
I thought it would be a short-lived kind of thing, them being right outside my door and hanging out smoking in the alley. Like how long the sound of Pop Rocks lasts in your mouth or the firework show on the 4th of July or your turn on the XBox or older men without Viagra. But, no. No. This is lasting a really, really loooooong time with no signs of letting up similar to when you’re in college and the bank account is empty, the check is in the mail and all you have in the fridge is Grey Poupon (left over from a party 4 months ago when your roommate’s sister’s friend from Connecticut brought it over to go with the ‘finger sandwiches’ she brought and it was painfully out of place next to the Doritos), a couple of blue cheese stuffed green olives (which just might rise to the challenge and become your dinner, seeing as it’s a dairy, a protein AND a vegetable) and a tiny packet of grape jelly left over from a MickeyDs run the other morning). It is taking forEVAH.
Here are three views of what my home looks like at 5:45 am and 4:30 pm every SINGLE day. If only I could help you hear the deafening sound…..
I Could be Jewish
The entire street is lined with houses whose attics and garages have spewed forth the Christmas cheer they have been incubating for the last 11 months. I imagine that the light strings had wrapped themselves around the inflatable snowman’s neck in such a way that he threatened to cut them with his jagged stick arms if they didn’t back the freak off. What happened next is anyone’s guess, but the result is that every single home has sparkly lights and animated creatures on the lawn. Except ours.
I’ve heard them whispering with each other, the neighbors. They converse over the fence as I walk up the driveway from the car, talking about how we must be heathen Satan worshipers. Or Jewish, although they hadn’t noticed a yarmulke.
Actually, it’s just that we won’t be in town for the actual Christmas celebration and the kids won’t be with us this year, so there isn’t really any reason to decorate. No one would be here to appreciate it. But I’ve decided not to tell the neighbors. I kind of like being Jewish. I might buy Joe a beenie.
Rosanna Arquette
Does anyone know how to contact Rosanna Arquette? I figure you people out there in the vast Internet World are the best people to ask.
Ask Leahpeah
leahpeah peehead,
why are you such a retard? so dumb? is there anyway i can rtell you how much I think you are dumb? you’re paintings are wierd and you odviouslly have nop talent. There are way better writings on the internet than you and if you think you are going to have lots of people like you you are wrong. you should go back to having more kids like when you were mormon. I hear those women know there places and listen to their husbands and do right in the sight of god. So being a mormon is almost as good as being a good Christian. you are most likely going to hell and you don’t care now but you will someday att sometime. I’ll go the one step further and see if i can ask god to let you in to heaven when it’s that time becuase that is what a good christian person will do. !!
if you want to see my online blog, it is here [redacted]
[redacted]
Dearest Reader,
Thank you so much for writing me. I do so look forward to seeing who takes time out of their day to drop me a kind note or a quick hello. I think you should know, though, that I have a certain way of reading letters that may not be what you had in mind. You see, I am a perpetual Pollyanna type and can only read the good and kind. Please let me show you how I read your letter:
Dear leahpeah peehead, < - I’ve kept this salutation intact because I really like it.
Why are you so wonderful? So awesome? Is there anyway I can tell you how much I really think you are great? Your paintings are deep and you obviously have great talent. There are other people that write on the Internet but none are just like you. I think you are going to have lots of people liking you. You have 4 kids? I’ve never had any because the state had to neuter me due to my inability to deal with reality. It comes and goes. I hear those Mormon women know how to make crafts, take care of their kids and husbands and do right in the sight of God. So, being a Mormon is the same as being a good Christian. You are most likely going to be invited to many parties this Christmas Season. I hope you don’t get overwhelmed or burned out. I’ll go one step further and invite you to my own festive occasion because having you come to my party would mean so much to me.
God be with you,
[redacted]
And also with you.
xo,
lp
My Hero
About once a year I want a hotdog. The same goes for bologna. I consider both to be nasty foods and yet, when I suddenly want one, nothing will get in my way from their consumption and I only regret it when for the next 4 hours I continually burp the taste over and over and over, each time promising myself I’ll never eat it again. And I don’t. For about a year.
But one craving that I’ve never had before hit about a month ago. I wanted Hostess Raspberry O’s. Do you remember them? The large, white dusted donuts with the uber-fake raspberry filling inside? I wanted them and dreamed about them and talked about them and then searched for them. And they are nowhere at any establishment near me. And I’m starting to doubt their existence all together. Did I just dream them the same way I dreamed I made out with Gwen Stefani 5 years ago?
The other day, when my physical limitations had really kicked in and I could barely sit upright, let alone go shopping, Joe went in at least 8 stores of all types from the lowly gas station mart to the giantropolis grocery store to try and find them, each time coming out empty handed but armed with renewed intention to find his wife the dang donuts she wanted. Alas, because they are no longer available through regular channels, he didn’t find them.
However, the genius that is my husband bought these, cut a few open like tiny bagels and spread them with this wonderful raspberry conserve and it tasted even better than what I was longing for. And I’m sure that because they are so small, I somehow saved calories. And sugar intake because St. Dalfour makes fruit spreads with 100% fruit and no sugar added, sweetened with only grape juice concentrate,which is practically healthy. Practically.
It’s possibly the sweetest thing he’s ever done for me.
Instructions
Well, someone did it. They created the instructions for making jelly bean reindeer. Thanks, Waco Mama. I think I just heard the entire internet breathe a collective sigh of relief. Yes, there will be no deaths due to Lack of Reindeer Instructions. My advice – run, don’t walk, to the nearest craft store and purchase your balls and beans as fast as you can for they will soon be sold out.
Click here and scroll to the end of the comments.
Pennies
I put the money in his hand.
“Pennies?” he asked. “Pennies!” he exclaimed. “The fact that you just included pennies in the mix reminds me of how lucky I am to be married to you. I’m reminded that you are the best person in the whole world.”** He handed the money to the cashier. “And, I’m reminded that we have about 2,000 of them around the house that need to be rolled.” I saw the excitement dancing in his eyes.
Nothing makes him happier than rolling pennies, turning them into the bank and getting real, green, cash dollars in return. Except, maybe, always having exactly the right amount of change to pay for things. He carries about 25$ worth of change around in his pocket every single day. And about 10$ of it is all pennies. I affectionately call it his City, as if each one of those little disks of metal were tiny people that are forced to live all together, squished and jostling against one another all the live-long day. I’m sure they can’t like it. Ching, ching, squish, ching. But, being the smaller and weaker life form, we force them to do our bidding. It’s socially acceptable.
** This isn’t exactly what he said. I can’t really remember what he said so I took the liberty of inserting what I thought was appropriate. I’m sure that it was really, really close, though. Or else it was just ‘Thanks.’ One or the other.
Dear WWW
Thanks for stopping by via Dooce and leaving comments and sending me all kinds of mail.
To those of you that say nice things: thanks and come back anytime.
To those of you that say mean things: suck it and don’t let the door hit you in the ass.
To the overwhelming number of you writing me emails wanting instructions for the jellybean reindeer: it was created in Photoshop and is not real in a 3-D kind of way. But by the power vested in me as a crafty-person, I hereby give you all the power to make one up with your own Styrofoam balls, jellybeans of many colors, pipe cleaners, googly eyes and fake deer hooves that you have lying around the house. Good luck to’ya.
To the woman that wrote me 5 times, each new email more insistent than the last: I am not hiding or keeping secret the instructions because there aren’t any. Do you understand? It was all made in my computer. Not. Real. Coming from a person that took medication for years, you seem a little unstable and wacky so you might want to take a friend poll and see if it’s time to up the daily cocktail to 300 milligrams or something. Just a suggestion because I’m sure that otherwise you are a very nice person and as soon as you get your dose right, you won’t be obsessing about whether I’m hiding craft instructions from you or not. Instead you’ll be making your very own jellybean animals. And wouldn’t that be nice?
Flying Spaghetti Monster Hat
All hail His Excellency. I want to knit more.
via fussy
Stinkyass Catsnitch
When I pulled into the parking lot, I was glad to see there was a spot left for me. Everything is so packed right now, I’m lucky if I can find one within a mile of the store front door. But walking is good, right?
He yelled at me across the parked car isle: “You wanted to pass me bad, huh? But you couldn’t.” and he snickered a little laugh. After my initial shock at being yelled at in a parking lot, I recognized his red ball cap and the white SUV he was walking away from. Just a few minutes ago, I had tried to pass his car on the freeway, got cut off and wasn’t able to, waited for him to zoom past me on my right, waited for about 3 other cars to follow him, and then got over to get off at the exit. “But you could have got in after me, where you were in the first place! It’s not like I’m one of those crazyass drivers that carries a gun! I wouldn’t shoot ya!” snicker snicker snicker ‘Yes,’ I thought, ‘you are certainly not appearing to be crazy.’
“I didn’t care if I got in front of you or you were in front of me as long as it was a LONG way in front of me. I didn’t want your stinky cigarette smoke stinking up my car any longer.”
He stops walking and stares. “You’re one of THOSE kinda people? Well, that’s WORSE! Stinkyass Catsnitch!” He flipped me off and stormed away, thankfully to another store.
Stinkyass Catsnitch?
I think I’ve found a new catchphrase.
I Suck
I was invited to go to this film festival in LA and I never made it. It started last Thursday and ends tomorrow and I’m going to miss every single night. I was scheduled to review this film and this film and to attend this film with the directors and actors in attendance, and due to illness, have not left the house for longer than 30 minutes or farther than 10 miles. This is because I suck. Well, not really suck in the ‘suck’ kind of way, but I bleed and hurt in an extreme way for days and days. And that sucks.
I hope they invite me next year. It would have been fun to be amongst the swanky folk and act like I know stuff and have serious opinions.
2 Unrelated Things
1. While driving to Office Depot to pick up some luxurious 32lb ivory Southworth paper for Christmas card making, I tuned the radio to what I thought was a local NPR station but turned out to be a Christian bible-thumping fest on the air. The topic? WWJD = What Would Jesus Drive. One man, with all sincerity, said that he knew that Jesus would only drive some kind of hybrid vehicle that gets more than 40 miles per gallon, since it is the best for the environment. A woman called in to ask why Jesus wants us to have so many dang kids if He wants us to drive hybrids that don’t seat more than 2 or 3 max and what is she supposed to do now? Just leave a couple of the kids at home? The gentleman answered: “Well, that is just one of those mysteries. And everyone has to do the best they can.” My thought: why would Jesus drive anything? Can’t He fly?
2. At the store, where everyone within a 5 mile radius had also decided they needed supplies from Office Depot and had worked out their schedules so that their trip and my trip coincided, I stood near the lines and debated which one was going to be The One. I am a notorious Wrong Line Picker but it’s not from lack of forethought. I really study things out and try to make the right selection. I just suck at it. So my new system is to find the line that I think is The One and then pick another one that I think couldn’t possibly be it. So, as I stood deliberating, a woman and her friend came up behind me. I thought I would just stand where I was, kind of like they do at Fry’s *, and go to the line that was moving the fastest when it became clear to me. The woman, out of breath and busily talking to her friend, bumped me with her cart, did not say sorry, but moved the cart to the side and then asked, “Which line are you in?”
“I’m in all of them. I’m waiting to see which one opens up and then go there.”
“What?” she asked.
“Are you kidding me?” asked her friend.
“No. I’m serious. If we just wait to see which one opens up, then we can all avoid waiting in long lines behind someone that needs a price check or something.”
By this time, there were about 10 people behind us. One man nodded in agreement.
“Did she say she’s waiting in all of the lines at once?” the friend asked.
“Yes.” said the woman.
“Let’s go in that line over there.” said the friend and pointed to a line to the right. They proceeded to squish their cart around me, push me in the magazines, and go to wait behind the person with 18 different kinds of pens. “Effn Biotches!” I wanted to yell, yet held my tongue as the line was mixed and there were children present.
About the same time, I saw a man that was almost done with his purchase, and I went behind him. I paid for my paper and white board markers and started walking out the door. I passed by the two women, who were still waiting their turn, and smiled as the checker called over the intercom for a price check.
As the automatic door slid open and a blast of outside air hit my cheeks, I looked over my shoulder to see that the line I had created by the magazines had held and there would be many people thanking me tonight for a quicker trip through the checkout at Office Depot. But there would be two angry women cursing my name for the hex I threw upon them and their shopping for the rest of the Christmas season.
The end.
*Fry’s has one of the saddest websites I have ever seen. I thought at first that it was a fake site or someone trying to capitalize on the name what with the prominent billing for DIAL UP SERVICE. WTF? And then I realized that no – this is their website. Holy hell! Someone call their marketing department. Joe and I will do their website upgrade for a discount.
