Leftover, homemade, from scratch, chocolate and vanilla cake. Butter, cocoa power, eggs, sugar, flour...DELICIOUS. Mixed with homemade whipped cream. Yup, real whipping cream with a little bit of powdered sugar. Oh, and also in the whipped cream? About 5 shots of cream liquor. YUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
That is what my animals would say if they could talk. Cujo's love of outside poison has been well documented. Today John sprayed inside the house for bugs and Odin is now meowing unhappily while locked in Cujo's crate because he thinks that poison is just so yummy scrum and wouldn't stop licking it. Poison companies, is it possible to make bug killer that my animals don't think is super delicious?
Y'all know how I like to go super Martha Stewart all the time, right? Everything from scratch, clean house, crafty, have a vegetable garden, etc. For Easter I did adorable cakes shaped like flower baskets and for the first time ever, did some real cake decorating. Not just slathering (like buttercream or 7 minute frosting) or dripping (like petit four frosting) but real decorating with like, icing couplers and tips and patterns. I learned I can't make leaves but I do want to take a Wilton decorating class at Michael's or AC Moore or wherever offers it. Anyhoo, I used the Wilton recipe for decorator frosting. The only real difference between it and buttercream is that since decorator frosting has to be totally white the fat in it is lard, not butter. Butter would cause it to have an off white/ yellow shade. Well, OK, the recipe technically called for shortening, but all John had in the cupboard was lard. DELICIOUS LARD. OH. MY. GOSH. I just ate the last bit of leftover frosting. I'm NEVER going back to butter.
These shoes look like vaginas, right? That loop shape on the footbed is TOTALLY a labia. Like 80% of the chicks at school have these shoes and oh MAN do they look like freaking vaginas. The shoes, I mean.
This pic was taken a week or so ago when I was doing a wine promotion for my SiL. I LOVE living in the south. I really can't imagine myself anywhere else, ever. Where else would you find a man with a BMI in the triple digits wearing a Jesus shirt and buying enough beer and wine coolers to fill a wading pool? NO WHERE.
Two of my favorite people went on what I consider to be a date tonight! WHEEE!!! Person 1, Person 2, John and I were at a restaurant eating a late dinner and...tah-dah! Person 1 very decisively told the server that he would pay for person 2's dinner. It was all I could do to not clap my hands and squeal. I buried my head in John's shirt to keep from screaming. I have no poker face.
If/ when P1 and P2 have their first kiss I better be in another zip code. If not I will totally be standing right next to them and staring and pointing.
I don't lie to John. Not little white lies, not money lies, no lies. First, I have NO poker face. Secondly, I wouldn't want him to treat me that way. I mean, he is the only adult I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I want to trust him and vice versa. Well, about three weeks ago I signed up for a tanning package and didn't tell John. I paid for it with my credit card and hoped that I could just get some color (aside for the lovely shade that I was of between Casper and skim milk) and do a little relaxing. Uh, the universe did not like me lying to John. A few hours after my first tanning session this is what my back looked like: Do ya see the two white lines going down it? The redness isn't really captured here, but the stripes between the tanning lights definitely are. Lesson learned, Universe.
I should be doing research for my paper on the history of eugenics. I think it's basically proof that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Who doesn't want a society without jails/ asylums/ people who can't access resources? Ohhhh, but to get to that wonderful society you probably shouldn't forcibly sterlize blind and deaf people.
Too bad when I google "history of eugenics" I get fifty online essays written by high schoolers that basically say eugenics = abortion = MURDER.
I really dislike names that have too many "i" or "e" sounds in them. To me, they just sound like they never grow up. Can you picture a grandmother named Kiley? Or reporting to a boss named Skylar? They just sound so young. On the other hand I really don't like old people names for babies. (Disclaimer: If I have a girl she will be named Louise after Mom Mom.) Henry? Mildred? Agnes? No thank you.
I hate to love gardening. I love to hate gardening? Despite being pretty hard-core domestic, I've never gotten into gardening. My Mom and Mom-Mom were super into it, as are my MiL and SiL. Cook, clean, host parties, do needlework...I just never really wanted to garden. Obviously I didn't garden when I lived in the city and the house we lived in in Greer just wasn't really a gardening kind of house. First, it was on clay. Red, hard, clay. We lived on a very slight incline and there were two deep trenches on either side of the house where the water would run down after it rained. Nothing wanted to live in that clay. I saw neighbors have sod professionally installed, and have sprinkler systems, and within one year their yards looked barren.
The wife of the couple who lived in this house before we did was obviously way into gardening. The left side of our yard is contained by a split rail fence and in it there are some nice trees and some hardy (because I sure haven't done a darn thing to them) flowering bushes. It looks great and hasn't needed any attention aside from an occaisional waving of the hedge trimmer. Our house now is on a steep incline and the right side of the yard has two stepped gardens that were full of flowers. Since I didn't move into this house until July of last year, I really didn't have time to do anything with the stepped gardens. They became full of weeds and ivy and some steriod-pumping mint. I recognized three rose bushes (with pink roses! YAY!) and a sage bush, but that was it. Late last summer I decided I should do something with the garden, so I bought a big ol' container of spectracide and sprayed it everywhere. I couldn't tell what was a weed and what was supposed to be there. When I got done the hours of hand-pumping poison, I basically decided that this garden would become survival of the fittest. Whatever could live through the spectracide would just continue to live in the garden.
I've always liked the idea of a victory garden, though. Being relatively self-sufficient and having yummy fruit and vegetables seems like a cool thing to do. This year for my birthday (in early May) I asked my MiL, SiL, Shauna and one of my aunts to come over and help me with the garden. I didn't want them to do it for me, I just wanted people who knew what they were doing to tell me what to pull up and what can stay. When I told this to my MiL, she sprang into action. She bought me a truckload of mulch, and another truckload of mushroom compost and topsoil. One Saturday a few weeks ago she and her sister just showed up, insisted that I keep working on my homework, and weeded both gardens. YAY!!! They got six bags of weeds and dead stuff! They pulled up some flowers, too, which is fine with me. They left me with homework to till in the mushroom compost. Uh, mushroom compost is basically manure. Over the course of 2 days I spread 560 pounds of mushroom compost over the garden, then took a shovel and turned and turned and turned it into the dirt. I felt like Scarlett O'Hara! Then on Good Friday my family came back and helped me plant all kinds of cool stuff that they said would grow well: lantana (a flower that my Mom and Mom Mom like to plant because it does well in hot weather with little water), strawberry bushes, green bell peppers, tomato plants, jalapeno peppers, 2 kinds of squash, cucumbers, eggplant, habanero pepper, and thai hot pepper.
Now I water that garden for like 10 minutes every day and I just can't get enough of being out there. I spread cedar mulch over most of it, but the peppers and tomatoes apparently need the acidity of pine straw, so I bought three bales of that today. Here's the thing: I still hate gardening. I also now hate weeds and disorder. I do like feeling strong and accomplished when I get done a big task, like spreading all that compost. I hear myself saying, "I hate gardening" when I'm picking little weed after little weed. Who knows? Maybe in a few years I'll be really good at it, like my SiL and Shauna, and maybe in a decade or so I'll be showing the youngins how it's done.
Also, I promise to post pics! I promise the garden transformation would be more dramatic with before and after pics, but I always realize this about everything (laying down floor, stripping wallpaper, painting rooms, decorating the house, etc.) when the project is done, so there's no chance for a before pic.