Snow arrives via phone

I woke up to this. Thankfully, it was an image on my cell phone, and not out of the window.
Knowing how much I despise snow, my friend, Doris, sent me a reminder of what I am missing.
While SH was making pancakes for BG this morning, he once again said he feels guilty for gloating, at least in his head, about how we don't live in PA.

At least all of the snow in the east is here for a weekend, instead of the middle of a week, where most people are scrambling to get to work. When we lived there, I often worked on weekends, and was happy that SH could provide rides. The last huge snow was in 1993, and I abandoned my car in a parking lot, slipped out of my heels, donned the tennies that I had stowed in the car for walking, and found a pay phone.

SH arrived with both kiddies, and a video that needed to be returned. He is conscientious, even in bad weather. Trying to get down a large hill, the car glided into another car. The driver was understanding. When you are driving on ice, you can't exactly control a vehicle. We sort of sat there in a daze as we exchanged info. We decided that we would pay the late fees on the video, and returned home.

That was a boring tale. I should have used my imagination a bit, and embellished. At least I didn't tell you the story of last December when I was working at the mall, and gingerly walking across an ice coated parking lot, trying to reach the door, so I could open the kiosk for an after Christmas sale. As I inched my way toward the door, a security guard spotted me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me across the ice. Since I was wearing gloves, my germ phobia didn't kick in, and I sort of enjoyed the pampering. I even bought a copy of Mall Cop to keep the memory of that guard alive in my mind. Plus, that event almost overshadowed the memory of the body odor of another mall guard who became a chum. I didn't have the heart to ask him to shower, but I am sure my body language spoke gallons.

With normal smelling folk I need an extra inch of personal space, so it took quite a lot of self restraint not to run. The man told great stories about stopping shoplifters, which held my interest when business was slow. He even pointed out a team of thieves, one of whom I followed closely until she gave up, only to return when I wasn't working. Yes, the kiosk got hit, but not on my watch.

Yeah, I really don't mind living in Florida in the winter. Nor do I miss working retail on the weekends.Y'all keep warm, and remember we have three sleeping bags and a guest room.

Oh, how SWEET!

I have never thrown a tea in my life, unless you count the parties I had with dolls when I was four. We never entertain, unless you count serving Mrs. Magpie a glass of water, when she visited.  If you look up loner in the dictionary, you might find a photo of SH, and me. The social butterfly in the family is PG. Her sister, BG, is a wannabe. Hey, she did have a three night sleepover guest last week, which filled my quota for guests for at least a month or so. Okay, it was fun, and they were barely here, preferring running through town, over staying home, but if I don't pretend it was big deal, it won't seem as special, and I am all for making a huge deal out of most things in life.

I was never a lover of parties, since they involve groups. I prefer interaction one on one. No wild threesomes in my past, just in case you were wondering.
When I was a child, my mom gave Valentine's Day parties, which I did enjoy. We would eat vanilla ice cream squares with pink hearts in the middle. I wonder if those are still made. They were like Klondikes without the coating.  Then we would craft valentines with red construction paper, and doilies. I still equate doilies with fun, especially the gold ones. I bet in my box of cocktail napkins, I could find some doilies. Like I said, we don't entertain, but I like the idea of doing so. My napkin collection is proof. You never know when the need for pretty napkins will arise. I am prepared should that unlikely occasion arise.

I still love Valentines Day, even if all I do is make a dinner that includes dessert. Any holiday that gives me a legitimate reason to eat sweets, is a good one.

Household 6 (such a mysterious name for a blogger!) posted the directions for these adorable sugar hearts.
Somebody please make these for a gift, or to serve at a tea, or just because they are darling. I will save the idea, along with my pretty napkins, and doilies, for a high serotonin time, in case that ever occurs. Until then, I shall remain at home reading, and crafting, happy that my children are more normal.

No, not that kind of Dancer

  My daughter proving that the she can crotch grab with the best of them.

Not only did she spend the past year performing in three wonderful G-rated shows, my daughter danced with a group of talented young people, who became close friends. On their last day of work, they decided to put together a Lady Gaga parody video.

In response to my endless questions about how the video came to be, I received one line.

"We just danced."

Another blurry screen capture.

Now, please, please, please go watch the video.

Because,

while

these sweet kids audition, rehearse, and

dream of stardom

receiving 

hits 

on their video

makes them happy.

Where I Spray

Cool, eh?

Word on the street is that tonight it will become a parking lot for the annual neighborhood New Year's Eve bash.  Until then, it is my personal spray painting area.

If you can't guess the color, you haven't been reading blogs.

I only copy from the best.

When I saw Tracy's curio, I knew that I needed one.

I love everything about her house.

I found a small curio back in PA, and a larger version in FL.

SH gasped in horror when I showed him the curios.

His mother had one hanging in her living room, and he thought the thing was hideous. 

I always found it to be adorable.

It might have been the only thing that my MIL and I agreed upon.

Well, that, and the fact that her son was wonderful (until he married me, that is.)

The larger curio is being sanded in the garage.

SH warned me this morning not to spray paint in the garage.

I once covered his car in spray paint "dust" when he left it in the driveway.

I was painting on the porch above.

Let's just say, that paint can travel. 

I spray paint on land that does not belong to me. 
I talk ill of the dead.

AND

I am a copycat.

Happy New Year!

Incredible Dip

Another recipe that resembles regurgitated food, but tastes yummy, is my entry for Tempt My Tummy Tuesday, Tuesdays at the Table, and Tasty Tuesday.

For the life of me, I can not remember where I found this recipe. I googled, and googled, but had absolutely no luck. in finding the origin.

This dip was indeed fabulous. We dropped some off at a Christmas party, because stupidly we had chosen that day to paint the kitchen.When we returned, every drop of the dip had been eaten!!! A party guest raved to me about the yummy dip, and she seemed sincere. We only could spend forty five minutes at the party, because we had to pick up BG at a babysitting gig. That was the extent of our Christmas socializing. Amazingly enough, I wanted more, and not just because I was eyeing the cookies..

Here is the original recipe. If you are the person who first posted it, please let me know, so I can give you credit.  I didn't follow the recipe proportion wise, but instead, dumped large amounts of all of the ingredients into a bowl. That cooking style has served me well, and if I can get away with less measuring cups to wash, I am all for it.

Our dishwasher in the photo

"How many tea towels, and dishrags can you dirty each day?"

Incredible Dip

12 oz finely shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 tomato, chopped
12 stuffed green olives, chopped
5 green onions, chopped (white part only)
4 oz can green chili peppers, chopped
4 oz can black olives, chopped
1/2 cup Italian dressing (I used fat free, as it cancels out the fat from the cheese, much in the same way that Diet Coke erases calories from chocolate cake)
Mix everything together and add the dressing right
before serving.

Now I know

Sitting in my car, waiting for a meeting, I started snapping away.
Boredom will cause me to take photos of dirty vehicles.
I never knew there was not a T in Chrysler.
I thought it was Chrystler. 
I wonder what else I have failed to realize.

There is a commercial for a local Toyota dealership.
In it, twin girls tease their father about the way he pronounces Toyota.
At least, since I drive one, I have mastered that word.

This is beyond mean.
There is a Facebook group called
I can't STAND the KEITH PIERSON TWINS!!
It has 3,122 members.

No matter how annoying I found a commercial, I would never want to ridicule someone.
Maybe because I am new to the area, I find the twins to be cute.
Apparently, I am in the minority.
The local paper did a cover story, naming them Northeast Florida's Scariest People.
Just that alone, makes me want to buy my next Toyota from that dealership.

This is exactly what is wrong with the world.
Hatred, and for what reason? Jealousy?



Not the newest commercial, but all I could find.
I should start the I LIKE the KEITH PIERSON TWINS!! group on Facebook.

BG's real name is Blanche

Do you have recurrent thoughts of literary characters?  While sitting here, thinking about how I would present the story of  my two recent visitors, my mind began to wander. Because my desk faces a window, I am quite enjoying spying on the neighbors. Today, the husband drove off to work presumably, while the wife waited at the end of their driveway for a ride. That reminded me of countless stories of people who pretend to go off to work, or school, while doing something else.


Is that a common occurrence, or just something that often takes place in books?

My collection, which is being housed in a box, while I find a spot in the new house, is of PEZ dispensers, not glass animals.


My name does start with L.

Now, we are switching gears completely, or at least writers. This is why this post might only make sense to me. Hopefully, Mrs. Magpie will forgive my weird post, knowing it was done with love, and a lack of sleep.

Here we go...

It occurred to me that when we lived in PA, and were the recipients of many cast-offs from friends, and relatives, that I woudl often refer to myself as the Blanche DuBois of the north. You know, depending on the kindness of strangers and all that entails.

Stick with me. The cute photos are coming.

Isn't it fitting that Mrs. Magpie came to visit, bringing with her a wonderful new friend, who happened to be name STELLA. See, it all makes sense.

Ibsen and Williams are the names of my cats.  Well, they would be if I weren't terrified of animals.

Back to the visit, which was wonderful. If my mind would stop going every which way, it would be easier to blog.

Mrs. Magpie, who really is as sweet, and wonderful as you imagine if you read her blog, is one of the reasons we moved to Florida. When we met her, SH remarked that she was the nicest woman in the entire world. This, from a man who is a few steps away from being labeled a misanthrope. Okay, maybe not that bad, but if SH really, really likes someone, it means something huge.

Knowing that I am having great difficulty choosing paint, Mrs. Magpie, and her new pal, Stella, arrived at the new house with a can, and a plan.

Stella, being a take charge gal, told us to chat,

while she got down to business.

Stella did take a moment to pose with her brush and paint.

After that, she was a busy bee.

Amazing results with such a tiny brush.

Stella has superb taste. The color is Chestnut by Benjamin Moore.

The color looks close to real life in the top photo.

Pretty!

Perhaps all of the paint fumes left Stella a bit confused.

We found her mistaking the coffee maker for a shower.

Painting can be hard work.

When Stella spied the backyard, she decided to rest outdoors.

She turned her chair to face us.

I believe she thought she might miss some gossip.

Our conversation proved boring to Stella,

but the sun's rays felt good.

Hurry back Stella. Your painting skills are unsurpassed.

And look, lots and lots of white walls for you to transform.

Bring your flat friend, Decorator Dan, as we need help!!!

Thank you to Sheila for putting up with my nonsense, gifting me with paint, and a delightful painter.

Hugs to Lindsay and Jessica.

We promise that with Stella's help, the house will be painted in time for your visit.