One more for holloween

That one spider web I talked about that one time.

OOOOOOooooooooOOOooHHHHhhhhh spooky spider web.

rock lobster

I am the chef who's going to cook that lobster dog.

Lizzie suggested I make a pat of butter out of felt and velcro it to the lobster.

Hmmm, crafty and funny -- I must be doing something right.

That last picture of Gurty?

She's belting out some Dio -- hence the title of this post.

Fright night

I'll tell you what's so scary about it -- Dancing With the Stars results show, that's what.

(spoiler alert if you have it Tivo-ed)

The girls and I love the show and they both have been little freaks about this Cheetah Girl. If you don't watch the show, she's the one who got the ax last night. My girls don't know because it was past their bedtime and we will be watching it tonight.

The one saving grace I'm hoping will do the trick to console them is that I recorded her appearance on Jimmy Kimmel as well. They will be able to see that she is just dandy with the whole thing.

On the star gossip side of things, did you see the show? Are she and that dancer a thing now? Their last dance looked like a couple of love struck prom kids -- weird.

Oh, I see

Lizzie: "Mom, I made a catapult out of a tree!"
Me: "You did? What did you catapult?"
Winnie: "Herself!"

15 minutes for Joey

My sister's friend's Rachel Rae segment is going to be on Monday October 29th. For some reason my DVR thinks it's a repeat, but it is not.

This is the Rachel Rae talk show, not the cooking or eating cheap while traveling show.

Fun.

I am living well

...Because Nate told me to!

I have to say that I never knew it could be so much fun to not meet somebody. And think, for that moment in which Nate was writing the name my sister gave him -- I was on the mind of Nate Berkus. Not just any Kim -- me Kim.

Plus, she did a little pimpin for me and my knobs were briefly discussed. If I never sell my art, I will always have that little tid bit -- so rich with sophomoric humor possibilities, I'm just going to leave it.

I'm thinking I'm kind of a decorator groupie because this was so much fun, I think I'm going to send her after Candice Olson next.

So if rock star groupies get their chests signed and then tattooed, I'm thinking I'll get fabric swatches signed and then have them embroidered. What do you think?

Mystery diagnosis

For the last couple of nights Winnie has been experiencing shoulder pain.

The first night I gave it a look -- nothing apparent. I go down the mom to child mystery injury checklist; did you hit it, twist it, fall, wrestle with your brother, fight with your sister, handstands, cartwheel, chase the dog?

No?

Hmm. Well, put this warm rice sock on it and go to bed and it will feel better in the morning.

Next night, same deal, only this time I manipulate a bit and when she winced, I knew. From the location of where I was touching -- Houston, Wii have identified the problem.

Friends, have you played it?

Then you know there is a palates move of some kind involved in working the controls -- there's definitely a break in period which involves some searing shoulder pain.

It's okay, it's going to take some bowling and a lot of tennis, but we'll get her through this.

Documentary

If you get a chance to see Crazy, Sexy, Cancer on TLC, do it. This girl has an incurable form of cancer and she did her own documentary about the actions she took to keep the cancer from growing and coming to terms with a diagnosis of incurable cancer.

She is extremely inspiring -- she didn't take the news laying down and is living her life.

Very cool.

Luke was so lucky

My dad was just here for a visit. It's the first time I've seen him in five years and despite the title of this post, we had a very nice time. The title reflects my inner turmoil over the head scratchy stuff I'm left with after spending a few days with my father.

My dad is one of those people who states the obvious in a most patronizing way, but like it's his duty -- like the information will be helpful -- it's not helpful.

Let's just say I feel compelled to do something really nice for his wife this Christmas.

The fun stuff was seeing my kids get to know their grandpa, that was cool. Rich and I took my dad and his wife to the art museum and that was very cool too. The thing I was not expecting was the cancer effect on the whole visit.

My dad looks great, but it was weird to think it's possible that, given the five year frequency of visits, this could be the last time he's here, or not. Hopefully he kicks that scary Gleason score's ass and we see him many, many more times.

My dad has always been pretty sappy, but I could see him taking stuff in and saying things like it might be his last chance to do so in person. And he said all the things a dad is supposed to say about being proud of his daughters -- he said it like he didn't want to regret not saying it. Words were coated with the possibility of impending doom.

I hope he never reads this because I know that was not his intent, it's just a fun little thing cancer has thrown into the equation.

There is this strange dimension to cancer that makes it hard to reconcile with one's emotions regarding a loved one having the diagnosis (I currently have 3 such loved ones in active battle and 1 loved one in remission. So much for immediate family and our previous cancer free history). It took a while for the gravity of it to sink in, it's almost routine to hear of someone who has cancer, but then is cured.

I'm not even going to state the statistics regarding my dad or my aunt (I'm not currently on speaking terms with my mother, so I don't know her stats -- that's enough story for a book, but maybe I'll attempt a post form some time, right now? Not delving into that one). The statistics seem so doomy.

If I paid attention to statistics, I would be a drunken, divorced, slut with kids who's hair needs combing and who are doing poorly in school, etc.

I am of the expecting of, and receiving of miracles persuasion. Even so, cancer remains and uninvited guest to the mental party. Even though cancer is often highly curable, and beside the fact that any one of us could die from any number of things any ol' day -- cancer is like the reaper licked his own thumb and wiped a person with it. And now, what does that mean? What's it going to do?

And there is your opportunity to work your faith, because cancer is this thing with way too many variables. Waiting in the unknown, for me, requires God for peace of mind.

And on the earthly side of things, because I have to take physical action as well -- on the home front I'm going to eat less sugar and more greens. And I will pray a favorite 12 step prayer for me and my family members that we know God's will for us and that we be granted the power to carry it out.

I ask for your positive thoughts be sent out to them too. Thanks.

Blue grass and a bee hive

Click on the picture for better detail.

If you look at that first picture of the bee hive, you can see a couple of bees on the lower right side. They kept flying down at me and one even did an angry dive and whacked me in the forehead -- no stinging, thank you, but I was thinking if this were a movie of the week, this would be the part where the audience is pissed at the stupidity of the person on screen -- everybody knows she is about to be stung to death.

"Don't just stand there taking pictures, RUUUN! You stupid lady! Oh, I hope they do sting her to death."

I really need to do the flickr thing

I need more time in my days. I have so many photos from summer and I'd love to post them all. Here are just a few -- I know that one picture is kind of dark, but it had really good detail of that funky "firework" flower. Not sure the real name of the flower, just saw the picture on the bulbs for sale and when it bloomed, it did not disappoint -- nor did that orange, purple pink thing. I'm not sure what that is either -- saw it at a local nursery and it was for our growing zone, so I grabbed it -- it's a bush, like a purple sage bush, but it has these beautiful, delicate flowers that have bloomed all summer long and are still out there now.

I think taking nature photos is more fun than looking at them anyway, nothing like it to promote awareness/connection to all the goings on in my immediate surroundings. I hope to get around to posting the spider web pictures though (need to find the disk I put them on) -- last week Lizzie spotted the small web on the way to school (she came running, yelling about "an amazing spider web" and it was). There was fog, thus much dew and the invisible turned spectacular with water droplets.

Gurty is fired

See that bank of windows and the TP on the bushes, right outside of the windows? This entire display is just outside of my bedroom.

Obviously, not a quick hit and run -- they were out there (mere feet from nothing but windows and clear glass patio doors) taking the time to lay out "HI FRANKIE!" in toilet paper.

Where was Gurty? Aren't little dogs supposed to bark at everything? Give you a little heads up on vandals and other suspicious stirrings?

If you are a cute 8 year old neighbor kid, who comes to our house almost daily, maybe then you experience the wrath of Gurt (must be the braids). Heaven forbid a chipmunk make a move anywhere within a 20 mile radius of our home -- she whimpers and vibrates with instinctual urge. But hey, if you are a couple few teenage boys, pitching TP rolls over the trees, right outside the window -- why lift your head from your little doggy pillow for that?

Look at her on her pile of warm laundry. She doesn't deserve it -- I'm going to start folding direct from the dryer -- she doesn't even look guilty or ashamed, she kind of looks bothered, like, what am I taking her picture again? Am I wrecking your Zen my little Gurtlet?

Too bad.

FIRED!

McDonald's parking lot

"STORY OF MY LIFE!"

A pudgy older man yells this as he storms across the parking lot. He's pissed and stomping like a child. When he reaches his car, he angrily fumbles the door handle and when he finally gets it, he opens the door, then slams it closed again-- he does this a couple of times before getting in the car and closing the door with a final angry slam.

His wife has seen this behavior before, you can tell by her calm walk and blank expression. He's hollering for her to hurry up and get in the car and she is ignoring him and making a point to take her extra sweet time. I know she was taking extra time because when he turned his anger on her with the "hurry up!", her eyebrow moved just enough to say, "surely you're not talking to me in that tone of voice," and her casual steps turned into sauntering steps.

The time was just after 10:30 and this guy was having this piss fit because he'd just missed the breakfast menu.

"STORY OF MY LIFE!"