Deanna Bares All.

I have had a little blog block lately.  And I still haven’t gotten all the software downloaded onto my computer so I can’t upload pictures (stupid hard drive).  Therefore, I asked my dear friend Deanna to write a guest post for me.  Did she ever!  With no further ado, “Let’s eat Grandma!”  Or is it, “Let’s eat, Grandma!”?

I felt honored by Mary’s request to be a guest blogger on her page.  I’ve never written a blog before, so bear with me.  Or is it bare with me?
Which leads me to the subject of my blog, word confusion and improper phrases.

Who among us has not had that hair pulling moment when trying to remember the proper time to use their, they’re and there? Or bear and bare? Or except and accept? Or affect and effect? Is the phrase, “woks of life or walks of life?” or “chester drawers verses chest of drawers” or should that be versus???

As you know, one slip and use of the wrong word or usage of the wrong phrase and your sentence has taken on a whole different meaning.  For instance, you are writing  a letter to your boss  asking for a raise and you ask him/her to “bare with you” while you explain your reasoning for deserving a raise.  Hmmm…well, it might help depending on how well your boss likes you!

Or how about “For all intensive purposes,  an air mattress is the worst choice for everyday use.”  OH really?

My husband is not a speller. We have been together for 17 years and I still have yet to convince him that smile only has one “l”.  My eleven year old and I will get bored sometimes and ask my dh to spell words just to get our jollies.  Luckily my husband laughs about it as much as we do.  It makes the grocery list quite comical when he says we need  cat liter.   Even more interesting is when we broke our salad “thongs” and needed to purchase a replacement.

One day my brother got really aggravated with me and finally yelled, “Deanna! It is NOT anyways!”  Hrmph.  What does he know?

Here’s to hoping you all remember when to bear and when to bare!

Totally off topic, Mary saw a few of my recent crafts using my Cricut Expression that I received for Christmas.  I have to give credit to the folks who inspired my creations. I am using a program called “Sure Cuts A lot” which I purchased off of Scrappydew.com.  I got the SVG cuts for the baskets  Lacey Stephens blog  http://handstampedbylacey.typepad.com/my_weblog/ and the cuts for the lattice work and the butterflies from the svg files at craftedge.com sure cuts a lot forums, svgcuts.com, from Wanda at http://wandascrafts.blogspot.com/   and Penny Duncan (who answered my emails lickety split!) at http://pennyduncancreations.com/ . I have had so much fun with my Cricut and I am inspired by reading and viewing the crafts from other Cricut owners. Maybe something I post will inspire you as well.

Blessings to all!

(These next 2 are DVD cases.)

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Creepy Dolls.

Everyone has a creepy doll story.  I mean everyone.  And, to be honest, can you blame us all?  There’s something about some of these dolls that just makes you think they are going to jump up in the night and strangle you.

This little Satanic Puppy Killing Boy Child looks like he could be perfectly capable of that:

Those eyes are totally deranged.  He should come with a warning label “Don’t Leave in Child’s Bedroom.”

And what girl wouldn’t like a ghostly apparition frozen in perpetual terror?

Since I am the whitest woman in America, I don’t think I’m allowed to say too much about this one.  So I’ll just let her speak for herself.

Okay, I can’t help it.  “Come hither, my pretty.  Cackle cackle cackle.”

And this one is just flat out spooky.

However, as disturbing as those all are, they cannot compare to what I stumbled upon in my dad’s garage this week.  Warning: while the following is in no way gory, it may be disturbing to some viewers.

 

He’s quite proud of that 1851 Colt revolver.  At least this mannequin has arms.  The last one didn’t.  She was a former Virgin Mary model for the Nativity at church, but her arms mysteriously disappeared.  Anyway Gussie (that’s what I call this Pistol Packin’ Mama) scares the hell out of everyone in the family.  My daughter spied her and ran away screaming in sheer unmitigated terror.  My 23 year old sister nearly refuses to go out to the garage.  Personally, I think she should become the masthead for his boat.

My point is, that all you people talking about how your grandmothers’ doll collections freaked you out as a child should walk a mile in my shoes.  I’d tell you to walk a mile in Gussie’s shoes, but she doesn’t have any.  I don’t know what would worry me more; if he continued to leave her naked except for the revolver, or if he started dressing her up in frilly Victorian dresses …

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Never Let A Toddler Drive.

For real.  You should not let your toddler drive.  Especially, according to this packaging, if he or she is under the influence of cold/allergy medicine.

Here is the picture to prove that these warnings are, indeed, on a children’s medicine box.

I have no idea what those smudges are.  I couldn’t get rid of them while I was taking the picture.  Probably ghost orbs or something.

Anyway, here are the warnings:

I like the warning about not using it to make your kid sleepy.  Yeah, because anyone who would drug a kid to make him or her sleepy is really going to read a warning label.  And Moby Dick’s a seal.

It was tough, but we managed to keep Shelby from drinking and operating the backhoe while she was on the stuff.  She was pretty perturbed though when we told her she wouldn’t be able to use the tower crane for a few days.

By the way, she had Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease (not to be confused with Hoof and Mouth Disease).  It’s a miserable virus and I wouldn’t wish it on an enemy.  But she’s pretty much all better now.

I’m about to do some shameless advertising … a local Etsy seller is trying to make her 1000th sale by the end of the summer.  She’s a very nice lady and I buy from her at my local farmers’ market.  Her candles are awesome!  I recently bought some lip balm from her also and I love it!  So if you need a wedding, birthday, or hostess gift or just something to brighten your day, then check her out at: AJ’s Country Cottage  http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5343490

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Because EVERY kid looooves broccoli rabe.

I am now the proud owner of the most asinine book ever written.  And I do mean the most.  Ever.

It is called “Kitchen Playdates” by Lauren Bank Deen and is described as “Easy ideas for entertaining that includes the kids.”  I was expecting ideas along the lines of, “Put an avocado in a Ziploc and let your kid smoosh it up to help make guacamole.”  Or, “Fill a wading pool with cooked spaghetti and let the fun begin!”  Or, “Use a cookie cutter to make fun shaped PB&J sandwiches.”  That’s what I was expecting.

Instead I got grand ideas for kids’ playdates like: grilled lobsters with garlic butter, edamame dip, brussels sprouts with bacon and cream … Seriously?  Brussels sprouts with bacon and cream?!  That will make your kid the hit of the school.  That’s what this woman considers reasonable playdate fare?

“Let’s go to Tommy’s house!  His mom makes the best broccoli rabe and brussels sprouts with bacon and cream!  Yay!”

  I think my favorite is “Parchment-Baked Halibut with Shiitakes, Lemon, and Herbs.”  Would you like to know how your kid could help with that?  They can “do almost all the work.  Older kids should be supervised if cutting the lemons.”  (I guess the younger kids don’t need supervision while cutting the lemons.)

What I don’t understand is that this book got four stars on Amazon.  Surely I cannot be the only mother in America who thinks that Asian Radicchio Slaw is inappropriate for a playdate … Surely I cannot be that much of an underachiever!

For Pete’s sakes, who invites the kids over for Curried Roasted Cauliflower?!

In case you are wondering, no, I am not making any of this up.  My imagination is not that fertile.

I’m trying to figure out what the heck to do with this book.  I could put it on my Bookmooch site, but I’d really hate to inflict this nonsense on another poor unsuspecting mother.  I’m tempted to leave it on my bookshelf for those days when I need a good laugh.  Or to give me and my other mother friends something to laugh about.

I suppose we could always try out some of the recipes at our next playdate … because every kid loves Sesame Orzo With Dried Apricots, Currants, and Slivered Almonds.  Really.  They do.  I wouldn’t make that up.

My mom thinks I should write about her.  Ummmm … Well, I can honestly say that my dear mother never served lobster with garlic butter at any of my playdates.  Although she did make chili for my entire Girl Scout troop once.  And she threw a mean tea party.

P.S.  What is broccoli rabe anyway?  I tried to look for clues in the recipe, but one of the ingredients is broccoli rabe.

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Honey, I think this antenna gave me heartburn.

My alert friend, Deanna, recently bought a new television antenna.  (I keep telling her that she just needs to break down and get satellite so she can watch Corner Gas, but she never listens to me.  However, if she had gotten a satellite, we wouldn’t have found this little gem – so it’s a mixed bag.)

At any rate, Deanna bought a new antenna and found these little warnings in the instructions.

In case you can’t see it clearly or you think you are hallucinating, let me just quote it for you.  “WARNING:  Do not attempt to install if drunk, pregnant, or both.  Do not eat antenna.  Do not throw antenna at spouse.

I have spent the last week and a half trying to come up with commentary equal to the task of these idiotic warnings, but I guess I’m just not that talented.  Or else they are so stupid that any commentary would just be beating a dead horse…

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Nothin’ says lovin’ like … tub crayons??

I stopped by a church garage sale on my way home from work today and picked these up for Shelby Shelb because I figured she’d like soap crayons.  Plus, she can eat the bath oil balls.

Each set was only a quarter and they were brand new.  Supposedly, they are aromatherapy-esque.  (They originally came from Wal-Mart and were made in China so I kind of doubt any real granola chewers would buy them.)  They smelled good and I was pleased with my purchase.  Until I got to the front to pay and noticed something on the red set.  Let’s see if my faithful readers can spot it …

Do you see it?

The theme of the red one is “Romance”!!!  Oh my gosh, I am cracking up!  Can you imagine that pick up line?  “Hey, Baby.  What say we get in my tub and color each other red?”  What dork came up with that one?  “I’ll color yours if you color mine, Baby.”

Excuse me while I go crack up some more.  And give Shelby the Green “Refreshing” set.  I’m saving the red ones for Meat Galore.

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Why, Easter Bunny, What Nice Eyes You Have!

Occasionally I worry that I will run out of things to blog about.  Then I  do something like visit Dollar General and all my fears are laid to rest.  That’s where I found this hollow chocolate Easter bunny … Hollow … as if to symbolize the fact that he doesn’t appear to have a soul and wants to steal yours …

I love how it looks as though his eyes are falling out of their sockets.  Nice.  And, no, those aren’t breasts.  Those are his demonic little paws.  (Oh, don’t act like you didn’t think they looked like breasts.)

What’s the deal with the scary Easter Bunny candy this year?  I think it’s a conspiracy by the American Psychiatrists’ Association.  In 15 or 20 years, they will have all the work they can handle just from dealing with people who, as children, were traumatized by Easter candy with psycho eyes.

Just so you know, when I got done photographing this demonic Easter bunny, I bit off one of his ears and put the rest of him on my neighbor’s patio table.  That’s right, the neighbor who brings his dog over to poop in my yard.  Bwahahahahaha.  [Rubs hands deviously.]

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Misadventures in Cooking

I’m just a chatty chat chatter tonight, huh?  It might have something to do with the 6 glasses of sweet tea that I’ve consumed this evening!

When I came across “baking soda” in that last recipe I was typing, I was reminded of some of my misadventures in cooking.  Now keep in mind, I was always an adventurous child in the kitchen.  Fearless Mary!  (That’s what they call me, you know.)

The one and only time I made brownies from scratch, I was probably 12 or 13.  Somehow, some elbow macaroni had fallen into the flour canister.  But I did not realize it when I measured out my flour.  Then, I accidentally got tablespoon and teaspoon mixed up.  Which probably wouldn’t have been quite the disaster that it was had not the ingredient I was measuring been baking soda!  Oh my gosh!  Those were the worst brownies on earth!  Biting into one was like biting into a box of baking soda.  And that’s if you were lucky enough not to have gotten a piece that contained dried elbow macaroni!  My sister swears that it was years before she could eat brownies again.

Around that same time, we were on vacation in Colorado and my dad had caught a bunch of trout.  Which he fried.  Later that evening, I decided to make popcorn.  Since the cabins at the YMCA out there don’t have microwaves, I was forced to resort to stove top popcorn popping.  Well, I didn’t see any reason at all to have to wash a whole other pan (the cabins don’t have dishwashers either) so I just used the pan and oil that the fish had been cooked in.  (Yes, I was a greenie recycler before it was cool.)  Okay…have you ever had burned-popcorn-encrusted-trout?  If not, you don’t know what a culinary treat you are missing!  ha!  Yes, burned-popcorn-encrusted-trout is probably the best thing ever!

Unless you have fully (or even moderately) functioning tastebuds that is …

Then there were the great perfume and playdough disasters of 6th grade.  Did you know that nail polish remover has a fairly low flash point?  And that it does not actually produce a soothing fragrance?  I didn’t either.  Until my friend across the street and I poured a bottle of lemon-scented nail polish remover into a hot sauce pan and mixed it with marigold heads.  I blame her – she’s the one who said, “Perfume is mostly alcohol, so we need to find some alcohol to put in it.”

I do come by it honestly though.  One night when I was about 6 or 7, my mom was volunteering at Children’s Mercy Hospital and my dad (who is really one of the smartest people I know) was put in charge of making us macaroni and cheese.  From a box.  He proceeded to cook it just the right amount of time – until all the water had boiled off.  Biting into that stuff was like biting into a delicious piece of Velveeta chewing gum.  Deeeeee-lish!  We told him it was gross and his response was, “It can’t be that bad, just eat it.”  Of course, his tune changed shortly after his first bite!  I was 16 years old before I ever ate macaroni and cheese again.

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It’s called frugality, not slovenliness.

This current recession that we are in has effected a lot of us.  My family has certainly been effected.  To that end, I have started making some changes around my house.  No more Wasteful Wanda for me!  No, sirree!

Take, for example, a loaf of Italian bread that I recently purchased.  We ate a little more than half of it and then it started to mold.  The old me would have thrown the bread out.  The new over-stimulated-recessed me did not.  I carefully scraped the mold off and put it in an old pill bottle (which the old me would have also thrown out) to use for administering relief to my husband’s cold.  Even though he doesn’t have a cold because, as he says, “Doh I do dot hab a cold.  I always talk like dis.  [sniffle sniffle].”  Because I am being frugal (and not slovenly), I am totally prepared for the impending national health care crisis.

Oh yeah and once the mold was scraped off, that bread was still perfectly and magically delicious.

Next week in my new series “How To Survive A Liberal Take-over”, I will discuss the proper way to maintain a fall-out shelter and how to be a good fall-out hostess.

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He Looks Like a Deranged Easter Bunny

I think my all-time favorite scene from A Christmas Story is when Ralphie comes down in the Easter Bunny outfit that his Aunt Clara sent him and his father says, “He looks like a deranged Easter Bunny.”  That’s all I could think of when my mom gave me this little marshmallow bunny the other day.

Okay, that’s not totally true.  I also thought of one of my daily affirmations from Wry and Ginger (see the link to your right under “If you want to buy me a present).

My mom thought it would be funny to traumatize small children by putting these in their Easter baskets.  (This is also the woman who would take a whole raw chicken out of the package and make it dance for us – so traumatic childhood events are all relative.)

Personally, I have a much better plan for it.  My mom broke her arm on Wednesday and will have to have surgery on Monday.  Therefore, she has some really good pain killing medications.  I mean the good stuff.  I’m thinking that, after she takes one of those pills and falls asleep, I should sneak into her room and set up this bunny so that it’s staring at her when she wakes up.  hahahahaha.  That would be so funny!  But, alas!  I’m not that mean.  Oh that I were – the fun I’d have!

Apparently, these little apparitions are even more creepy in the Wal-Mart aisle where she found them.  They are all lined up and stare at you as you walk by.

I, on the other hand, prefer for my Easter candy to be slightly less disturbing.  Not much less though.

I think the chicken on the package is flipping me the bird (I often have delusions of farm animals flipping me the bird though, so my version of the story may be a little deluded).  Of course, when you turn the package over, you will see why this poor chicken is so distraught…

Yes, my friends, that is right.  You take off his head, put bubble gum into his neck and then he poops it out while walking without even having the benefit of having gotten to eat it first!  No wonder he is once again giving us the finger.

Yes, I know, I’m a sucker.  I paid 3 bucks for the stupid thing.  But it was so worth it just to share it with you all!

On a side note, it kind of cracks me up that it says “not for children under 4 years.”  I don’t know why.

 

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