Friday, September 30, 2011

I KNOW. I Should Slow Down.

It's Friday y'all.

I don't know about all of you, but I've had some thoughts this week.
Thoughts about a lot of things, but mainly the following:

1.  Martha Stewart - This whole topic can be overwhelming if you spend much time on it.

Here's the thing. She determines what the guests in the studio audience of her TV show wear.  She literally coordinates the clothing of the people who show up to view her show. I feel sure she might have a problem with my tennis shoes and my propensity for "army green" since she prefers to see her audience in bright pastels with coordinating scarves.

Like I said.  Don't think about this too much.

2.  The unbelievable amount of powder that can be crammed into an antibiotic capsule - No, I'm not doing anything illegal.  But seriously, have you ever opened up any kind of capsule and poured the contents into a little pile?  Do it.  I bet you'll be surprised at the volume. I was.  My guess is that they use the same technology as the "Space Bags" vacuum storage bag system.  It's a little disconcerting to think that after you swallow a capsule the contents could potentially turn into 2 winter coats, a blanket and a very large stuffed bear.
I'm giving Weegie these antibiotics that unfortunately come in HUGE CAPSULES and the only way I've found to successfully administer them is to break the capsule in half and then hide the powder in some form of chicken or cheese.  All I'm saying is that the powder does a number on the malleability/ductility/tensil strength of Velveeta.  Or for all of you non-chemistry geeks, it makes Velveeta not stick to itself.

Where else can you learn these kinds of things?

That's right.  Nowhere.

3.  Cheese Crackers - Anyone who has read this blog for very long knows about my fondness for the Cheez-it.  I also have an ongoing admiration for the Flip-Sides Crackers in the Cheddar flavor.
Well I would appreciate all your help in kind of passing around the rumor that the Flip-Sides Cheddar is well, HORRIBLE or something, because darned if the HEB isn't sold out of them all the time.  I had a very long and dare I say productive talk with my cute little HEB assistant manager during which I made him aware of the problem, and he was very receptive.  I also took the opportunity to address my concern with the small amount of shelf space devoted to TAB and he assured me that "corporate" would be hearing about the whole problem soon.
I kindly offered to appear at the next corporate meeting and do a little talk/slide show followed by a lively discussion. Don't ever say that I am not willing to be a part of the solution.
Unfortunately, it seems the agenda for the next meeting is already full, but he would definitely keep my offer in mind.

Anyway, back to my original concern - remember, tell all your friends... Flip-Sides Cheddar?  Awful.
Don't buy them.

4.  Fall Decorations - You'd never know it by the weather but it's Fall.    I perspired all the way up to Hobby Lobby the other day where I hoped to " Get My Autumn On" by looking at all the seasonal decorations while trying my best TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT THE CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS?? THEY ARE EVERYWHERE. Do not get me started.

Anyway, I thought about buying some pumpkin things and a few leaf things, and then maybe some straw and cone things to festively scatter about, but I didn't.

I bet that makes you want to come celebrate the season at my house, doesn't it?

So, clearly, I've had AT LEAST 4 thoughts this week.  What about you?


Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Any Resemblance To Actual Persons is Entirely Coincidental

Once upon a time there was a blogger.

Let's just call her Low D.  Now Low D had been feeling kind of down.  Kind of in a funk.  And yes, I suppose you could say somewhat out of sorts.

Low D had every desire in her heart to give her readers something interesting.  She did.  But darn if she could come up with anything.

She became so distraught about the whole thing that Low started noticing some things about herself.  Disturbing things.

For some reason, for the last few days Low had become inexplicably attached to a styrofoam cup from McDonalds.  She enjoyed drinking her TAB out of it so much that she just kept washing it over and over again and using it as her primary drinking vessel.  Nevermind that Low D had all kinds of lovely and utilitarian glassware in her cabinets.
Kinds that other people drank out of.
She even owned a whole set of Tervis tumblers that no longer intrigued her with their insulating qualities and their big Aggie 'Howdy' on the sides.

Low D was concerned that she soon might start saving aluminum foil.  She would wash each used piece, carefully fold it into small squares, and store it under the toaster oven on her counter.  Oh wait.  That was her grandmother.

But anyway.  She was concerned.

Low D's husband Honcho was also concerned.  He mentioned to her one day that several times as he left for work early in the morning he discovered that Low had left the front door unlocked all night.

And the back door.

And that she had also set up a flashing light in the front yard backed by a sign that said "Welcome! Low D lives here and she's in a funk.  Please feel free to come in and steal all of her belongings.  And while you're at it you might want to take Honcho's stuff too."

Not really about the sign.  But according to Honcho, that would have been her next step on the road to their ruin.

And Honcho also warned Low D that she had been leaving the ceiling fans on all night in the living room and the sunroom.  And then he called her a watt-killer.  As in killowatts.

"Oh, and by the way Robbers - we've left all the fans on for your comfort!"

And then he pretty much tried to make her feel responsible for the poor state of the national economy.

And oh yes, the drought.

Not really.  But almost.

Anyway, Low D just felt antsy.

She cried when she realized that she had a brand new box of Big Cheez-Its in the pantry and she JUST REALLY DIDN'T CARE.

Low D had worn her tennis shoes everyday all day long for the last two weeks because her foot hurt, and she wasn't even sorry about it.  She didn't even blink when she passed well-dressed women with regular shoes or even HEELS.  Women with coordinated jewelry.

Ladies with kicky scarves.

Low D decided that she SO DIDN'T CARE about her fashion faux pas-ness that she would even be fine with wearing her tennis shoes with a sparkly sequined halter evening gown to all of the fall and winter social events that she and Honcho would be invited to.  She would not be embarrassed of her orthopedic footwear.

She was above all that.

Then she remembered that she doesn't go to social events much as evidenced by the one time when she and Honcho actually were invited to a party that she blogged about it for an entire week.
And posted pictures of what she was going to wear.

And she also remembered she would never be caught dead in anything sequined.

But she would still be perfectly happy wearing only her Nike's with the hot pink laces.
Oh, and Low D didn't mean JUST the Nike's, because that would pretty much kill all the festivities right out of the gate.

Low D thought she might have come across the reason for her sorry state of mind when she noticed in the shower that she had been using Aveda Sap Moss Shampoo.

Because, really?

What could be more uplifting than starting your day by rubbing sap and moss onto the top of your head?

Low D just doesn't know.

The End.

Monday, September 26, 2011

This Is Not Even An Orderly List

I thought something might come to me while I slept.  An idea.  A story.  A bestseller for goodness sake.  But still, here I sit with no plan.  No outline.  No purpose.

How's that for capturing your interest?  Reeling you in?
You're hooked now.

For some reason I'm having a hard time organizing my thoughts.  You laugh.  I know.  I think we'll just go by topic - make no attempt whatsoever to tie anything together.  It's the Monday way of doing things and it is oh so much easier than than the other stressful, thinking-required way.

The Weege - The Weegster is so very much better.  After I finally figured out that I couldn't even get the smell of the pain medication anywhere near him without him gagging and throwing up, things improved quickly.  He doesn't even need any pain meds.  He looks kind of funny and is beginning to wonder why on earth they shaved SUCH A HUGE AREA OF HIS BODY JUST TO WORK ON HIS LEG, but I've assured him that his hair grows really fast and not to worry.  He'll be looking all sauve and sophisticated  again before you know it.  It does seem I may have considerably complicated my life by starting the practice of  heating up boiled chicken and rice for him at each meal, but this was a necessary evil in order to mix in his antibiotics.
And besides he really likes it.

The Aggies - Well.  And well.  Um.  OK, yes, in case you were wondering it was actually worse watching it in person.  But we were the guests of someone this week with really awesome seats which were in the shade the entire game, so at least we didn't have to sweat while witnessing the whole terrible 3rd quarter implosion thing.  And the new friend that I sat with and I had plenty of time to talk about pork roast and soup and opening our own bakery.  And there was a cute young family sitting in front of us with two adorable kids with red hair and one on the way and they were all a good distraction for when things started to tank on the field.  And I continue to wonder how it is girls can sometimes be 8 and a half months pregnant and still look like SUPERMODELS OR ACTRESSES or something when I  clearly was unable to pull off a similar look after about Week 2.
Oh I kid.

The Ants - The creatures have decided to invade my laundry room (also known as Weegie's confinement area) evidently looking for water.  I mean a little rain would help in so many ways, don't you think?

The Racoons - They've really been on a roll taunting Weege.  Knowing full well that he's not supposed to run out and chase them out of the yard, they've set up a veritable recreation area out there complete with a fine-dining restaurant and  casino.  We're just waiting for the day the skunks all roll in on some Big Texas Tour Bus to join the revelry.

The Bathroom Scale - Something is quite obviously wrong with mine.  I need a new one.  Help me....

The Weather - Hot.  Again.  I die.

The Plan - If someone could please come up with some kind of interesting plan for my blog posts this week including topic and outline that would be so great. I'm more than willing to just more or less work with whatever someone throws my way.
I do believe I am fresh out of ideas yet again.

But don't worry about it.  I know you all have things to do.



Thursday, September 22, 2011

Please Send Chicken And Blueberries

I can't tell you how much I appreciate all the inquires about Weegie.  

I brought him home today around noon.  To be honest, he's just pretty miserable right now.  I thought briefly about taking a picture and posting it, but that would be well, wrong.  He looks pretty bad what with the huge cone around his head (which has for the moment been removed) and the large portion of his buttocks and abdomen that have been shaved.  Not to mention, of course, the incision, and then the pain patch on his other leg.  All in all my friends, not a pretty sight at all. I think he would hate for the whole world (or at least all 3 of you) to see him like this.  So I choose to respect his privacy.  In a few days when he's feeling perkier and we've had a chance to do some kind of respectable styling of his hair, we'll give you a photo update.

The whole trip home from the Vet was a tad on the STRESSFUL side.  The dog kennel that  I took for him to ride home in would not begin to accommodate both The Weege and his kicky new collar accessory, so we had to resort to him riding beside me in the front passenger seat which even in a fully reclined position was not what I'd think you'd consider even remotely therapeutic.
Or what you'd call a good idea.  
Either his head (cone) or his leg (with staples) always seemed to be sliding off into the floor and it was all I could do to concentrate on driving in all the TRAFFIC while at the same time trying to soothe the poor little guy because y'all he was whining...Every breath.  It was almost more than I could bear.

Now he's only whining every other breath which is an improvement, but it's killing me because I know that he's hurting.

He has a pain patch and pain pills. 

But still.

Bless his little heart.

For those of you that didn't know, although the surgery was successful the Vet found some pretty severe damage and arthritis in Squeegums little leg which will probably mean that he will never be completely pain free in that area. But instead of being all depressed and anxious about it like I was yesterday afternoon, I've decided to be positive.

After all, It's The Weege we're talking about here.

I'll be back tomorrow - I think it's time for a recipe or something!


Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Weegie's Big Day

This is it.  Weegie is off to surgery early this morning.

He was WAY too nervous to write anything, but I took a couple of photos last night.

Here he's on his favorite chair looking out over the backyard.

Squirrels fear him.

They really don't, but I try to build his confidence...

And this is him after we had a long talk yesterday afternoon about the whole recovery period and what he will and will not be able to do for the next six weeks or so.

See how his bad leg is extended?  It's breaking my heart.

Anyway, y'all think about him today if you get a chance!!



Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Dressing (And a Bonus Double Entendre)


For a while now I have been wanting to do a fashion post.  You realize it's going to be fall soon (I continue to hold out my last hope for temperatures as low as the 80's!!) and I do so love a really good fashion update/forecast/or whathaveyou.

So several times lately I've sat down and starting organizing my ideas, sticking post-it notes on particularly intriguing ensembles and accessories in the latest fashion magazines, and pulling things out of my closet for a photo shoot.

And then I remember.  

I know absolutely nothing about fashion, have not bought a fashion magazine since before I had children, and do not have anything at all fashion-photo worthy in my closet, unless we consider my cowboy boots, in which case I would probably need to scrape some stuff off the bottom of the soles before I took a picture.

I mean the fashion police do not even bother we with me anymore.  I am what you might call "a cold case".

So in my perpetual fashion fog, you can understand my excitement when I was asked to provide the food for a big ladies event at my church which featured a real live "Fashion Expert and Personal Stylist" as the main speaker.

Rebecca Matthews is just a doll, y'all.  Just one of those ladies that truly has her look all together.  Attractive, poised, and funny. The girl knows her fashion, let me tell you. She had a delightful and fast-paced presentation that was appropriate for even the wide age range of ladies at the event (from early 20's to late 80's) and she did it while keeping us all laughing at ourselves!

Did you know it's good to laugh at ourselves?  Yes.  Yes, it is.

Anyway in an hour and a half or so she previewed the fall fashion scene, showed some great tops (and appropriate bottoms!) and demonstrated some sassy accessories.  I was still in the kitchen at the beginning of her presentation, but was able to sneak out and grab a seat at one of the side tables to try to absorb some of her knowledge.

I am nothing if not a fashion-void sponge.

So, no sooner had I positioned myself at a table than did she get started on THE POLKA DOT.

And in case you were wondering?  They're out.  Especially big ones.

And I couldn't help but notice the other ladies at my table sneaking a polite glance at my apron which JUST HAPPENED TO BE COVERED WITH THE LARGEST TURQUOISE, GREEN, AND GRAY POLKA DOTS SINCE THE LIKES OF LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE.

And when, in my shame, I excused myself a few minutes later to "take care of something in the kitchen" and coincidentally came back to the table without the offending apron, it was only after I sat down for the second time that I saw that the entire front of my bronze-colored blouse was COVERED in chocolate.

So really people.  EPIC FASHION FAIL ON MY PART.

It's perfectly OK if you are just a little bit embarrassed for me.

But I gathered up my pride and tried to really listen with conviction to some of the last bits of advice she had to offer.
And I was nothing short of thrilled to pieces when she tossed out the following, because they just also happen to be some of my own particular "fashion pet peeves".

And yes, in case you're wondering, it is in fact possible to be totally unfashionable and yet still peevish about some fashion-related things.

It is the dichotomy of mankind.

1)  It is possible to wear too much black. Thank you Miss Rebecca.  Don't all of us know someone that does this?  I think they believe it is slimming (which it can be) and dramatic and sophisticated. But really?  Everyday?  For every occasion?  And as a self-professed fashion disaster, I am proud to say that this is one rule I do not break.


2)  After a certain point in the fall (she generously extends the traditional Early September -you know, after labor Day- deadline to October 15) you should NO LONGER WEAR SANDALS OF ANY SORT. Face the facts.  No one wants to see your toes.  She was especially adamant about not wearing flip-flops of any persuasion.  Also a score for me, because I have always believed the main point of fall was to rest your toenails from the polish...

3)  And (please cover your eyes if you don't want to see anything about unmentionables) everyone should wear the appropriate undergarments (top and bottom) for every outfit.  And I know you most especially do not care to hear anything at all about my own personal undergarments, so I'll simply say I have made friends with The Spanx.

And since some of you probably have A LOT OF THOUGHTS about the irony of someone of my ilk offering any kind of fashion advice, just remember that I am simply passing along the suggestions of an expert.

Which is not me.

But, since we're talking about "dressing" so to speak, I do have a wonderful recipe for "The Dressing" which was a big hit on the green salad at the dinner.

Don't you just love a good double meaning?

Or a somewhat desperate segue?


 Honestly, I do feel more confident talking about this "dressing" than that "dressing".

You can probably even trust me to know what I'm talking about now at this very juncture.

"The Rosemary Dressing"
(original recipe from Rebecca Rather "The Pastry Queen")

I've changed it a bit...

Blend 1/2 cup fresh rosemary leaves, 2 cloves garlic, 1 T chopped red onion, 1 T spicy brown mustard, 1/4 cup honey, 1/2 cup white balsamic vinegar, 1 1/2 tsp. salt, and 1/4 tsp. black pepper in a blender about 15-20 seconds.  Then pour 1/2 - 1 cup olive oil (you just have to experiment and decided how much you like) through the feed tube of the blender and blend until it all emulsifies.
Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary.

At the Ladies event I served this on a mix of Spring greens,  very thinly sliced Gala apples, crumbled Maytag blue cheese, and candied pecans.

And while I suggest you completely ignore me if I ever dare to throw out any fashion advice again, don't ignore the "dressing".  It's that good.


Monday, September 19, 2011

Oh My Sweet Mercy Sakes


I could not possibly be more tired.  I think I cried a little when I dragged myself out of the bed this morning.  I cried when my sore feet hit the floor, and cried some more when I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw just how bad the sunburn was on my neck.

I know y'all were holding out your very last hope in the world to read about Weegie's account of  the weekend and the final countdown to his surgery.

But he's tired too.  Dog tired.

He spent most of the day Sunday helping The Chief and I build an electric fence to try to keep the cows in the pasture.  And to make matters worse, my nephew has now reported siting alligators in Weegie's favorite swimming hole (or what's left of it...).

He was confused.  And understandably nervous.  Especially after I began to hyperventilate and scream every time he got close to the water.

Do you see this?  Every bit of this should be the lake.  Except for the tall trees in the very back of the photo, ALL of this should be lake.

And since many of our fence lines run out into the lake, and the lake is well, GONE, the cows have taken to wandering willy-nilly, pell-mell, and yes, helter- skelter all over creation.

So to attempt to contain them The Chief put up an electric fence that runs out into the dried lake bed.  Far out into the lake bed.

At least maybe it will keep the cows out of the yards of the lovely lake homes in that direction.


You see this?  This is the footwear that every highly professional fence-fixer-assistant always wears.  And yes, you always wear them with really baggy jeans that have to be rolled at the cuff.  It just makes you look more proficient.

And the hot pink?

The Chief requires all his assistants to wear the hot pink laces in their work shoes.

But more importantly, you see those huge cracks among the columns of dried earth?  That is what I walked on for hours and hours yesterday carrying, toting, and fetching.

And do you remember way back when the first Mario games came out?  How Mario and Luigi and all their buddies hopped along on little things that would drop out from under them as soon as their little animated feet touched them?  That's what it's like.  The gray, dried looking part on the top is hard, but if you'll look a little deeper you'll see a darker bottom on each of the little columns.

Sponge.  Total sponge.  So as you're walking, with each step, your foot sinks about 4 inches while the top stays completely solid.  Creepy.  And tough if you're trying to carry fence poles and a fence pole whacker-downer thingie and at the same time WATCH TO MAKE SURE WEEGIE ISN'T BEING EATEN BY AN ALLIGATOR.

So anyway.  I'm pooped.  And Weegie's pooped.

We do have all kinds of riveting posts in the works about Weegie's surgery, and recipes from last weeks big Ladies Dinner , and Hummingbird updates, and even a little about the Aggie game on Saturday.


Just not today.

And just so nobody's disappointed I'll even post a handy-dandy electric fence installation tutorial in the next few days.


You can just get everything your little heart desires here.

Can't you?

Please say you'll come back.


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Overthrow of a Regime

For those of you who really enjoy Weegie's posts a lot more than mine - please accept my apology.



And he needs to man-up and take some responsibility here.  He had all kinds of time to work on a post for today, but instead he has chosen to while away the hours monitoring the kitchen floor for morsels of food I've dropped, sleeping on the lounge chair on the patio under the ceiling fan, and asking The Chief over and over "when do we leave for the farm"?

Frankly, he's just not very good with time management.  And since I struggle with the same malady, it just doesn't seem right for me to reprimand him over and over.  I believe that might be a teensy bit hypocritical on my part, perhaps an instance of "the pot calling the kettle black" and a lovely and telling illustration of the whole plank removal/speck in the eye teaching from Matthew 7:3.

And I certainly want to avoid being judgmental and all.  We all have our faults.
Weegie among us.

So I told him it would be just fine - even "fine and dandy" if he had his post ready for either Thursday or Friday because do not let it be said that I cannot encourage a slacker in their time of need.

I believe this calls for an Amen.

And quite honestly,  there's also been this

Which seems to have captured some of his attention.

And then this

Which had him so fascinated that he single-handedly set up a little viewing area at the back of the family room, printed up some tickets, and sold popcorn.

I mean it was fun to watch.  And I think even The Chief (although FOR HEAVEN SAKES HE WOULD NEVER ADMIT HIS PARTICIPATION IN THE WHOLE THING), was cheering for the Anole Lizard, because really, Mr. Grouchy Pants (and just so everyone is clear- that is the pet name we I have for the head honcho hummingbird, and should not in any way be mistakenly confused with The Chief, because, you know, The Chief WOULD NEVER BE GROUCHY.  Ahem.) had been WAY too heavy-handed with the monitoring of the feeder, and sometimes

 God just chooses to send along someone whose main goal in life is to well, teach you a a little life lesson.

Knock you down just a peg.

Put you in your place, so to speak.

I believe there may be a new sheriff in town y'all.

Have a great day!


Monday, September 12, 2011

I Believe There's a Life Lesson Involved Here

Hey everyone, it's Monday.

It's been pretty difficult to accomplish too much around here today with Mr. Grouchy Pants at work.  He's a fascinating study.  This hummingbird immediately and forever appointed himself protector and keeper of the feeder just after I relocated it to a new spot in the yard.

He's one possessive guy.

Very unfriendly.

On occasion, he relents and allows one of the others to touch down briefly...

And get one blessed drink of the nectar before he scares an IMPRESSIVE BACKFLIP right out of them...

Y'all be civilized out there, you hear!


Thursday, September 8, 2011

My Smile

Excuse me while a conduct a little business... If you're looking for the Gig'em Dip, just scan down a few posts!  Enjoy!

OK, where was I?

Oh yes. 

You'll either be really relieved or highly disappointed (depending upon your penchant for oral hygiene) to find that this post has nothing whatsoever to do with teeth, orthodontia, or floss.

It's about rice.

You'll need to read on a bit to get the connection.  Oh, I'm such a tease.

The Chief is a rice guy.  Growing up in a French/Cajun family, he had rice for almost every meal.  Me?  I'm a potatoes girl.  Baked potatoes, scalloped potatoes, fried potatoes, new potatoes, sweet potatoes - we had them all.  And in abundance.
Rice has always been a challenge for me.  I never wanted to buy a rice cooker, because, please, who needs another bulky appliance to have to lug out of the cabinet every time you need to cook a simple starchy side dish.

I'm therefore quite proud and prone to brag now that I have perfected the art of "rice cookery".

It only took about 25 years.  Let's just say I did a lot of hands-on research.

And for those who say "Well Lu, it seems pretty simple to me, you just have to follow the recipe on the side of the rice package...", I say "Please and kindly stop trying to complicate my system."

Thank you.

Anyway, a while back I decided that I needed to come up with a way to "spice up" my rice.  I mean it can be boring, right? And who likes a lackadaisical  starch?

So using my time tested technique of standing in front of the open refrigerator and praying that I would figure out something - I came upon this method for Happy Rice.

Here's the recipe - the step-by-step follows.

Happy Rice

1 cup long-grain rice (I always use Basmati or Texmati)
1 3/4 cup water
1 tsp. salt
1 T. butter
2-3 green onions, finely chopped
3-4 T. chopped cilantro
the juice of 1/2 lime
1/2 T. lime zest

Put the rice, water, salt, and butter into a very heavy stockpot.  Place on medium high heat. Bring to boil and lower heat to lo-med.  Let cook until you can no longer see any water bubbling up in the pan.  Cover the pot with a heavy lid and turn the burner off.  Let sit for 20-30 minutes.  Fluff with a fork, and stir in the lime juice and zest, cilantro and green onions.

And for you visual learners...

I always use either Basmati or Texmati rice.  Basmati means "my smile" in Arabic.  In case you are ever in an Arabic country and need to write a note about your mouth.

Measure out 1 cup of rice, 1 3/4 cup water, 1 tsp. salt, and 1 T. butter.  Make sure you use a very heavy pot.  This is necessary for the water to be absorbed evenly by the rice...

OK.  Put it all in the pot.

We were having guests for dinner, by the way, so the pictures show me doubling the recipe.

Turn the burner on med. heat and bring to a boil.  Lower heat to lo-med. and let it cook until you can no longer see any water bubbling up... (about 10 minutes)  It should look kind of like this.

Now, immediately put the heavy lid on and turn the burner off.  Let it sit for 20-30 minutes to allow the rice to absorb the rest of the water.

After sitting for at least 20 minutes it should look similar to this.

Notice that each grain is separate and not clumped.  Fluff with a fork.  Add the lime juice, lime zest, the cilantro and green onions.  Stir gently to combine - you don't want to damage the grains!

Last night I served it with Rosemary Pork Roast, Garlic Green Beans, Cheesy-Olive Bread and fruit salad.

And Oh Yes.  Iron Skillet Blackberry Cobbler with Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla.

I should really go for another jog.  Or seven.

Hope the rice recipe puts a smile on your face.


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Let's Call It A Temporary Pardon

Yo people.  The Weege here.

I spent a really long time Tuesday morning writing a post that would also serve as my Last Will and Testament.  In case you didn't know, (and if I were you, I'd be really embarrassed to admit it since you know,  this is BIG NEWS) I was scheduled to undergo life-saving surgery tomorrow.

OK, so Mom says I need to clarify.  Not EXACTLY life-saving, I suppose.

But you really might look at it that way if you were me.

Which you're not.

No one is planning to do unspeakable things to your knee.

So excuse me if I'm a LITTLE BIT OVERJOYED that the vet called Tuesday afternoon and had to re-schedule the surgery. It seems his office is close to the fire evacuation area and a couple of his technicians are unable to work this week.  And although I'm really, really, sorry about the fires and all the heartache for my fellow pets and their people, I could not be more relieved about the whole re-scheduling thing.

I mean, were you aware that I was not going to be allowed any food for 12 HOURS BEFORE THE SURGERY?  I mean, please, they may as well just go in and staple my stomach. Or for that matter, what the heck? Just remove my stomach.  After 12 hours it would surely shrivel up and die anyhow.  How do they expect me to survive this really invasive operation without some sort of nourishment?  I could become dehydrated.

THEN WHAT would become of me?

I'm really not sure people have thought this through thoroughly.  Mom says the Vet is such a nice guy - "He was a deacon in our church" she says. " He has a lovely wife (also a Vet) and  two cute daughters".

Well, can anyone explain to me why any of that is even remotely important?

What I believe I'd really like to know is "HOW HANDY IS THE MAN WITH A KNIFE"?

Uh, just sayin'.

And oh yes.

Did you know that I'm supposed to be still and quiet and not jump on the furniture or chase the cows or jump into the Mule or rough-house with The Chief or ANYTHING ELSE AT ALL THAT MAKES LIFE WORTH LIVING FOR AN ENTIRE SIX WEEKS AFTER THE SURGERY?

No.  I didn't think so. 

If most of my fans knew these things they would start some kind of campaign to rescue me.

An amnesty organization of sorts.


I believe I have several good pictures that could be used for the posters...


Or maybe this one.

I think any of these might conjure up the emotion we're going for...

My freedom, I daresay my very life is in your hands.

The Weegster

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

I'm Not Sure Where I Am

Note: For those of you still wanting to check out the Gig'em Dip Recipe - just scan down a couple of posts!  Thanks.

It was quite the Labor Day Weekend, my friends.  Fires raged all over the state and friends and strangers (all fellow Texans)  lost their homes, property, and livelihoods to the relentless flames fanned by strong gusting winds and unusually low humidity levels.

We went to the farm Friday afternoon and on Sunday afternoon were scheduled to travel to College Station to watch the Aggie game.  We were kind of anxious to check out our new seats.  I didn't purchase them until fairly late in the summer and was kind of shocked to find that these seats were still available...Hmm.  Was there a big pole in front of them?  Did the row in front of us sell to some kind of Russian basketball team or something?  Was this the one single spot in Kyle Field that had some kind of HORRIBLE GLARE FROM THE PLANET NEPTUNE THAT MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO SEE THE FIELD? We needed to know.

But alas, it was not to be.  As we were leaving the farm we began to notice the smell of smoke, smoke rising in the distance, and saw numerous emergency vehicles and fire trucks on the road.  After a couple of stops and inquiries, we learned that the farm was, in a way, surrounded by fires - not that close, mind you, but certainly too close for comfort. We decided we'd skip the game and stay close in case things got a little dicey.  The fires stayed at least a few miles away from the farm and we were blessed and thankful to be spared the devastation that accompanied the worst of the infernos.
My sister, who had left to go to the game much earlier in the day before the fires popped up, was kind enough to send me a text including a picture of the view from our seats - it was pretty darn good and no pole in sight!  So we look forward to the next game. 


We did have some issues over the weekend losing power (both at the farm and at my Mom's house in town) but by in large we were all spared. 
Hope you were too.

Let's see, tomorrow is Weegie's Big Surgery, and I believe he's been working on a post to leave with you all before he goes under the knife.  It's possible he might be writing his Last Will and Testament because he overheard The Chief talking to our son last night and saying something akin to "No, I don't think that Mom asked the Vet what the survival rate is for this type surgery."

Well Please. 

The Weegster has been a mess since then. 
Hiding out at the top of the stairs, and sticking his head between the cushions of the couch.  But at least the whole survival thing seems to have distracted him from the fact that he has to FAST FOR THE 12 HOURS PRECEDING THE SURGERY. THE HORROR.
Oh, and the fact that he is supposed to be quiet and still for the next 6 weeks or so.

Please pray for our sanity.

What else?  Hmmm.  I'll be posting the Very Best Recipe for Rice soon.  Don't you just enjoy how creative I can be with a recipe title? It is OH so very easy.  I've been doing it with my regular rice for a while and I thought "well, MY STARS, EVERYBODY needs to know this little trick".  Because who doesn't need to spice up their starches?

You'll just think you've died and gone straight to Chipotle or something.  Amen?

And if you're a Design Star watcher?  It's down to Meg and Karl.  Even though Mark seemed to be the "darling" most of the season, I never thought he seemed real genuine.  But come to think of it, I sometimes actually speak for my dog, so perhaps I am not the best judge.

And finally, I went outside this morning and saw that it was below 70 on the thermometer and I did what any rational Texan would do.  I smashed that thing to smithereens for kidding around with me.  I mean REALLY?  Does it think I'm stupid? Or in Seattle?

Seriously, have you felt THE OUT OF DOORS today?

I tell you we have been transported.  It has been a long time coming.

Please join me in continued prayers for OUR GREAT STATE.

Have a great day everyone!


Thursday, September 1, 2011

Please. He Had It Coming...

Listen.I don't like to air my dirty laundry any more than the rest of you, but sooner or later this whole big thing is going to come out. So I thought it would be best if you heard it straight from me.

Me and the Weatherman?  We're splitsville.



In-A-Godda-da-vida.  Or whatever.

We're through.

I mean honestly, what has he done for me lately?
I'll tell you what.  He told me last week that it would cool off considerably by today.

Quite obviously he's a liar.

He told me that yesterday would most likely be our last day of temperatures over the century mark.

HMMM... Another lie.

He's even been predicting some pretty fancy rain over the coming weekend and I'm sorry but would ANYONE BE TERRIBLY SHOCKED IF THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN EITHER?

No, no, I didn't think so.

Earlier this afternoon I officially melted for the 79th time this summer.  A person can only put up with so much abuse. I tell you a person can wipe the dripping make-up off of her face with the hem of  her shirt ONLY SO MANY TIMES AND STILL MAINTAIN SOME LEVEL OF GLAMOUR-ESQUE-NESS.
Especially if her shirt is white.  Or started out white.

Tell me I'm not right.

Last week I broke the news to The Chief that I was thinking about, you know, finally and forever breaking up with the weatherman.  Oh but we all know The Chief, though.  He's a "forgiver" and a "try-harder" kind of guy, and he encouraged me to well, ' hang in there' and 'give the guy another chance'.

"It's just the right thing to do, Lu."

Well look what all my 'hanging in there' and devotion got me...

It got me hot and sweaty with my leg skin stuck to the seat of my car again.
That, my friends, is what it got me.

And my pride (and my gauze-covered leg skin) has just once and for all had enough.


Now it's just me and The Sportscaster.

He and I will do just fine until he starts ragging on The Aggies decision to high-tail it out of the Big 12, or getting on my VERY LAST NERVE talking about those people in Austin and their shiny, new little network.

Then I suppose I'll have to give him the BIG  HEAVE HO as well.
And this time, don't you worry, I'll pay no attention to The Chief's little pep talk about "Oh Lu, surely you can make this all work out-JUST TRY HARDER."


I believe I've learned my lesson.

And after that?  I'm down to the Traffic Guy.