Domingo Delicioso #37

Well, How y’all doin’? Things around here have been busy, as usual lately.  Mr. Man and I have two weeks of foster/adopt classes under our belt.  Eight more to go.  I haven’t blogged about it as much as I thought I would…the past couple of classes have mainly been putting our toes into the water, getting introduced to the new world we are entering.  We have so much to learn, so much to do.  But I have to tell you, I am so proud of Mr. Man.  He is thriving in these classes.  He, usually so reserved, even made a presentation of sorts.  SO proud. 

There’s a long list of things we need to do.  Background checks, health checks, home studies, health inspection, fire inspection, baby-proofing…just off the top of my head.  And this is on top of the other getting-the-house-in-order thing I’m so whacked out about already.

I was so nervous the week before, and on top of PMS, I was eating everything I could get my hands on.  Ugh.  I can get back on the right track, though. The number on the scale is feedback, not failure, right? Anyway, I tend to pop off and make what I think are funny remarks when I’m nervous, but not everyone thinks they’re funny.  The first night was one of those nights.  Ugh.  At the end of class,  I told the developer I am really serious about this, I was just nervous about being approved.  She said there was no reason to be nervous, after all, I hadn’t ever KILLED anyone, right?

Um,  no.

So, we should be fine, she assured me. 

I’m sure Mr. Man was rolling his eyes behind my back. But he should be used to this by now.

The thing I keep thinking about is how I was so nervous before I had my first (and only, so far) surgery, and after it was done, though I was sore, I survived and it wasn’t something I should have been so scared about after all. 

I’m so glad Mr. Man and I are in this together.

So, what have y’all been up to this week?

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I spent a little time cursing Renae under my breath and grumbling to my husband “this piece of x!$% has possibly the worst dialogue I’ve ever read and very little punctuation and it won the Pulitzer! And the plot is completely depressing and disgusting!”

I like the fact you are hitting the blog again, Jenny!  You’ve never steered me wrong on a book yet, and the fact that in the end, you were really enthisiastic about this one makes me curious.  I also haven’t read the one you recommended this week!

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It’s humbling to accept a gift like that, with no way to return it.

Wow, Britta, what a heartwarming story.  And you’re right, it is odd that the acts of generosity are the ones that disarm us.  BTW– I try to comment on your blog from time to time, but for some reason, I don’t seem to be able to.  But rest assured, I read it!  Miss you . . .

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Alright, you with me?  Let’s start this party right.  I know I, for one, have been a bottom-feeder for the last few months.  A scavenger sitting in the mud and spitting out rocks on the bottom of the fishtank, flipping through my TIVO and watching umpteenth re-runs, models modeling, mensa members losing to fifth graders, chefs making 20-course meals out of garbanzo beans, and stars doing everything from dancing to rehab to showing us their “other talents.” 

Glad y’all are back, Zoanne!

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…your eight year-old looks around disgustedly and queries, “Are you EVER going to clean this floor?!”

Oh, I know, Groovy, I KNOW.  *SIGH* I can  also sympathize with your bout of Spring Fever, though I am not NEARLY as productive.

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But wait! There’s more! I grabbed the towel and… and… it grabbed me back! Then it hissed at me just before it sunk it’s nasty teeth into my hand.

Yowza, Ms. Karen!

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  Where is this all going to end?

That’s a  very good question, Selma.

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I think I hear some little crackly pecking…

Aw!  What a cute little pecker, Suz!  Lucky, indeed!

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No.  That word isn’t “definition”.  It’s “De Finition”  i.e. FINISHED (in French).  

Again, WONDERFUL, Diva A!  You guys, when this gal is published, you are in for a treat!

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Well, I had another birthday this week. Non-eventful, with the usual harrassment by my younger brother and younger husband than I am old. Mid-forties my be considered old by some people, but I can assure you I am very immature for my age…But, the appearance of another birthday made me realize that I am running out of the “somedays” I refer to when I think about accomplishing my dreams.

Happy belated, Duchess! I feel the same way you do, on all counts. 

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I’ve never really thought much about formulating a “perfect” pitch, I just throw out what I know about the story. I’ve been lucky at times to flag down interest in my work, but no sale. So I guess it’s time to GET SERIOUS about learning things now to prepare for the time I will be “perfectly pitching” the finished MA thesis manuscript.

Another Castleite re-examining the get serious angle.  I’m so proud of you, MegMorrison!

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I read somewhere once that you know you’ve found your calling when the activity makes you lose all track of time.

I KNEW it!  Sleep!  SLEEP is my calling!  No, wait, time-wasting on the ‘Net… No, INDECISION!  That’s my calling! You are so COOL, Jaye!

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Hehehe…me in the morning! (Sorry, Groovy!)

http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=30932409

Sometimes, though it’s more like this:

http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=32970188

What?

No Domingo Delicioso?

Nope.

It’s Oscar night.  My Super Bowl.

See you later!

Domingo Delicioso #34

“Okay,” says Diva M3, “What’s the kookiest thing you’ve seen so far?”

We were talking about silly random stuff I see at my grocery job  every day.  Only, at that moment, I was like a deer in the headlights!  For the life of me, I couldn’t think of one really over the top person or incident.  DUH.  It seems like so many little things add up to one big Kookfest.   

• Radish Man.  Radish Man is a swarthy-looking immigrant, mild-mannered and soft spoken, his dark hair and moustache make me guess he is from a Middle Eastern country.  He first came through my line when I was very new, and still struggling to figure out my produce codes.  There was  some confusion over the price of the radishes, and it seems that now, every time he comes though my line, there is some kind of dispute over the price of those pesky red runts. They ring up one price on the system, but to him, they are 50 cents.  Always.  We had a laugh over it finally, that each time he and I come face to face, we have an issue with radishes.
• Sicky Susie. Honestly, I don’t know her name.  But Susie came though my line, obviously wrecked with whatever flu has marched through our neck of the woods. I mean, errands don’t do themselves, even when we’re ill sometimes.  I get it.  But honestly, this lady did all but lay on top of the check out counter, sliding from one end to the other as she rested her head in her arms while I rang up her purchases. *hack hack hack* Did she cover her mouth?  Barely.  And she borrowed my pen. Can me say Purell?
• Shady Sam. Unless you’ve had cataract surgery, are blind, or have some other medical condition, take them off.  Believe me, you aren’t that cool.
• Handsy Hank. “It’s ” not going anywhere.  You were born with it, it’s attached, and if you have an itch, pinch or have to pee, please take care of it AFTER you hand me your money.
• Mommy Dearest. Would you please stop talking to your children as if you hate them?  Take a step outside yourself and listen to what you’re saying and how you’re saying it. Sometimes words do more damage than physical abuse.  BUT do not ever slap your child across the face in front of me again., you hateful wench.
• Everyday Eddie. Our store is your pantry!  It’s kind of fun to see some people come in so often.  You make friends that way.
• Bored Bob.  Hey, buddy, don’t throw that money at me.  Hand it to me or place it on the counter, but don’t throw it at me.
• See-through Squirrel. Hello?  I’m speaking to you?  I’m not part of the woodwork or the machinery.  Take me out of the equation and just see how far you get out the door with your organic veggies and House and Style magazine.
• My Way or the Highway. So wait, you want paper bags set INSIDE the plastic bags because…? 
• Don’t Cheat Me Dottie. I promise, I’m not out to swindle you out of anything.  If I make a mistake, I’ll fix it. If the sale is not in the computer, I’ll fix it.  If I’m looking over the produce trying to figure out something, it’s not because I don’t believe you when you say it’s 72 cents a pound, it’s because I need the code of the item for the register. (Except you, Radish Man.  I have doubts about you.)
• Food Stamp Frannie. Everyone needs help now and then, and I’m glad the government is there (!) to provide it to those who need it.  So here, let me check out your three carts piled with N.Y. Strip, brisket, and more groceries than I can afford in 3 months. Oh, and make sure you don’t drop that roll of hundred dollar bills you just pulled out of your pocket to pay for the $24.84 left not covered by food stamps on your total bill of $667.00  Are you sure you have room in your Expedition for that and the five kids? Okay, thanks.  I’m going to help this little old lady with her bananas (code 4011) and ramen noodles.  She needs help counting out the change she pays for it with since her hands are so arthritic she can’t straighten them out.
• We are The Borg.  Resistance is futile. What do they call those things in everybody’s ears anyway?  Earbuds?  Bluetooth?  Don’t frown at me for interrupting your conversation.  Not that I COULD.  I thought you were talking to me.  You are at a money exchanging place conducting business relavent to your daily life.  Get the BLEEP of the phone and treat me with a little BLEEPING respect. 

These are exceptions to the rule that most everyone who goes through my line is somewhat normal.  Whatever the definition of normal is from my perspective anyway.   I don’t know if it qualifies as kooky or not, M3.  I am happy to say that most people I deal with are cherful, well-adjusted, polite and thoughtful.  Some are downright funny, and it makes my day to see them.  The only thing boring is the slow times!

Phew.  I feel better.

What’s up with you guys?

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Yesterday, I made red velvet cake (except it was pink) and had cherry Kisses available to all who dropped by.

My Mom is thoughtful that way too, Gabrielle.  Oh, and Red Velvet Cake is actually my birthday cake, and Mom’s recipe calls for an entire BOTTLE of red food coloring added to the chocolate-y batter. *Note*  never serve this at a birthday party where men can’t hold theoir tequila.  We thought the guy was throwing up blood on the white carpet.  (I don’t know what upset his wife more.)

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I get to be a mad scientist for an entire week in July.

Yeah…good luck with that, Groovy.  Seriously, hoorah’s for teaching those kiddos, five SHORT months from now.

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This is a fairly simple task that is made insufferably complex when one is partnered with some silly tit who sounds like Barbie would if she was a cheerleader.

Yeah, Ms. Karen, I feel ya.  At least she wasn’t out-sourced. I guess.  Just as bad maybe. Heck, set the bird free.  Mr. Man has been frowning at my vocab lately too. Have fun in Germany!

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One dark February day, a month before her 18th birthday my Grandma got the news that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Joe’s boat had been lost at sea. My grandma waited for seven long years for his return, but he was gone.

Oh, Selma.  What a story.  You’re absolutely lyrical.

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AT LAST!  I can’t wait!

Domingo Delicioso #33

Are you ever in a bad mood, a really bad mood, and you don’t know why? 

Welcome to my day. Well, my day yesterday, anyway.

I didn’t even know I was  in a  bad mood until I bit off my MIL’s head.  Granted, I know what irritated  me, but my reaction was way over the top.  I apologized.  But from that moment on, BLEAH.  I realized it wasn’t just the thing with MIL.  I was just in a lousy mood all over. 

Domingo Delicioso #32

 Ahhh…so here I am basking in the afterglow of watching 3:10 to Yuma, AGAIN.  I just love that Ben Wade. I mean, just take a gander at some of these quotes.

I was in a movie mood.  Which was fun.  I haven’t felt that way in a long time, even with being in such a movie nut.  I think a lot of it has to do with accomplishing a bunch of chores and such that have needed done, including rearranging the living room and giving it a good cleaning.  So now it’s a cozy place to enjoy.  I had been frustrated with not being able to get stuff done around here with all the craziness lately.  But things are falling together, finally.

Domingo Delicioso #31

Well, I was wondering what to write this week for DD, and lo and behold, I was tagged!  Sooo…..if you read this, consider yourself tagged!

Once you’ve been tagged you must write a blog with ten weird, random things, little known facts or habits about yourself. Then you choose some people to be tagged.   I guess.  I stink at this sort of thing.  But I decided to play along this time. Why not?

1. I met my husband in a haunted house.  Actually, the old house used for that school project was formerly known around town as a ‘house of ill repute’, so I guess you could say we met in a whorehouse.

2. I have a mysterious ancestor who used to live in a ‘boarding house’ in Mexico, who moved to Texas with a 5 year old little girl who she couldn’t raise in said boarding house.  We think she might have assumed another woman’s identity in the process, or at least her name. When my grandmother died, the funeral director told us (how we got onthe subject, I don’t remember) that one of her ancestors with the same first middle and last name lived in Texas about the same time frame (late 1800’s).  Could our ancestor and hers have crossed paths and ours took the other’s name?  Hmm… 

3.  Because of the mysteriousness of this “boarding house” and my propensity to like decor suited to old west bordellos…I get teased that I take after our ancestor.

4.  I am known to spout off random trivia and factoids at any time.  Kinda like a know-it-all Tourette’s type thing.

5. I am a movie and history nut.

6.  I can read a book in a day. And my housework can attest to that.

7.  I’m a gadget geek.  Electronic, kitchen, doodads of  all kind.

8. I have never had a hangover after drinking alcohol.  But drinking Merlot gives me a headache from nearly the first sip.

9. The Die Hard series of movies are some of my very favorites. 

10. One time, I lost 130 lbs.  So much for that. 

How boring!  What have you guys been up to this week?

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This makes kitty nervous. Did you know when kitties are nervous, they tend to get a bit gassy?

Baby, reading over my shoulder, looks at me as if saying, “We certainly do NOT fart.  We are cats. We do not partake in such undignified behavior.”  You and I know the truth though, don’t we, Ms. Karen?

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This morning, a new ache. I’m sad that we’ve lost a talented storyteller far too early. I’m so sad that a little girl has lost her father, and parents have lost a beloved son. And I’m angry that, an hour after his body was found, The Telegraph (UK) is saying he died of a drug overdose. Where’s the proof?

I know, Gabrielle.  I know.  It makes me sick to think people are reaching and trying as hard as they can to make this a suicide or drug problem.  I beleive, at this point, that it was accidental, if anything.  I know he was having problems and sad with his relationship break up, but I can’t believe he’d willingly leave his little girl.  As for Britney, she’s doing a lot of this herself.  She calls some of the photogs before she goes somewhere so she will be followed.  I think she thinks this whole thing is cool.  I think she’s trash.  Love the pics of the lion and the coyote!

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Ya know, I don’t sleep on my face, so how come my bangs look like this in the morning?

Heh.  Nice, Groovy!  I’ve decided I sleep on top of my head or breakdance or something, because my whole head looks like that in the mornings!

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For part of me would really like to know the truth behind the ghost of Lily Arnold.

That is a really cool memory, Selma!

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Domingo Delicioso #30

La la la la la……Another week has passed, but not a lot of news to pass along.  BORing.  Brother, SisM and Toddler are back to life in Oklahoma.  Things are looking good there. I’m happy for them.  But still miss them.  Mr. Man has been sick, really sick, with some kind of flu thing that he’s fought since before Christmas. I finally got him to the doctor (stubborn man) and he’s been home resting and recuperating from 103 degree plus temps.  He’s feeling better now, thank goodness.  I can tell.  No more groaning in his sleep, he is upright more than horizontal…he actually gets up from his chair

Domingo Delicioso #29

Welcome to the first Domingo Delicioso of 2008! I promise to make it as much of a mess as it was last year.

Taking stock, I’ve lost 28 pounds on Weight Watchers so far. I think the new job has helped rev up my metabolism quite a bit, as well as not give me enough time to sit around and graze so much. I continue to look to my Mom, who has lost 40 pounds and to Lady Shanny, who has done EXTREMELY well, too. Though “Shanny gets cranky when she hasn’t eaten!” I think the same thing can be said of most of us. At least, in my family I know for sure that it’s true. A vision of that creepy flower from Little Shop of Horrors comes to mind, shouting “FEED ME!” when any of us get snippy or out of sorts. But you really should stop by her site, she has all sorts of recipes, advice, and experience to share.

Speaking of downsizing, I’ve decided to take a smaller booth at the salon.

Domingo Delicioso #28

I started this, but life intruded.  Please forgive the abbreviated note.  I need a favor.

My Granny is needing prayers. We are praying to God for what is best for her. I also want to ask for comfort and strength for my mom, and that I may be a source of help and comfort to her as she deals with this.

Thanks in advance.

DW

Domingo Delicioso #27

I make a remark on how good one of our customer’s organic products looks.

“Yes,” she says, “I’m trying to buy as much as I can that’s natural or organic.  We all need to do our part for the environment.”

“Oh, sure,” I nod.

“Paper or plastic, ma’am?” asks the sacker.

  ”Oh,” Customer #1 smiles, “plastic please.”

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Domingo Delicioso #26

“PRAY!”

So says Toddler as we gather around the table at our favorite restaurant.   Lately, as we begin to eat, Toddler has made it a practice to reach out her hands to either side of her, commanding our attention as we join hands and reminding us that we need to say grace before our meal.

And a child shall lead them, indeed.

Yes, friends, Toddler is in town, leading us all in a merry chase as usual.  Thank goodness the weather permitted them to come over this weekend.  They’ve been a lot of fun.  And I know Granny was cheered by the visit they paid her in the hospital rehab, where she continues on working to get stronger.

I remember as a child, we always said grace before Sunday dinner.  Sunday dinner was always a big deal.  After church, we’d all gather at Granny and Pa’s, where the meaty aroma of  a 7 bone roast filled every corner of the house.  I’d help set the table, and sometimes Brother did, too, but often, he was eager to meet the neighbor boy down the street to cram in as much play-time as possible before the call to eat.

Plate.  Fork on the left, with a crisp, white, paper napkin folded–crease side out–beneath it, knife–edge out–then spoon to the right.  Granny’s menagerie of trivets placed through the center of the dining table assured the protection from the hot dishes soon to arrive.  When they did, nearly every inch of the hand-sewn tablecloth was covered with food.

Salt and pepper shakers–not the every day ones, but the crystal pair saved for Sunday– and the sugar bowl were next.  Then the butter and sour half-and-half for the baked potatoes.  Macaroni and cheese, made with large elbow pasta and Velveeta–I was always slipped a taste from Pa as he sliced the orangy-yellow loaf into teeny pieces while the macaroni boiled. Mama got one, too, while I peeked at Granny, who was whipping up one of her scrumptious desserts.  Maybe it would be Banana Pudding with vanilla wafers…she always set a small bowl aside for me, with no bananas and extra wafers.  Or maybe warm, homemade vanilla pudding with chocolate chips melting at the bottom, like sunken treasure. Perhaps lemony pound cake, its dense middle surrounded by a crisp, just-right crust.

Daddy usually took this time to slip into Pa’s chair and turn on the football game. Cowboys, of course.  Pa would amble in from the steamy kitchen and roust him out.  “Out of my chair, Meathead,” he’d say in their running joke, just like Archie Bunker from All In The Family.

“Dinner’s ready,” Granny would call.

Daddy stepped out onto the porch and whistled sharply through his teeth–a call we were attuned to that meant he wanted us on-the-double.  Brother, hungry from wriggling around in church and playing war with his buddy, jogged to the house quickly.  We never wanted Daddy to have to whistle twice, and Heaven help us if he ever had to come looking for us.  Not that we really feared what he might do, but because we hated being in his bad graces.  Well, maybe a little of it was not wanting to get into trouble.  Who am I kidding?  We were kids, it happened a time or three. 

We’d take our places at the table,  and bow our head to wait for Pa’s sing-song voice to begin:

    Kind, Heavenly Father,

    Accept our thanks,

    Forgive our sins,

    We humbly ask Thee,

    In Jesus’ name,

    Amen.

And then we dug in!

This is just one of many childhood memories that our family holds dear. Magic time.  As I watch Toddler now, I think about how this is HER magic time.  A time when the clock or calendar doesn’t really matter.  A time of learning and discovery.  A time when she is who she is, not what she thinks everyone wants her to be, a trap almost every single one of us fall into as we “grow up.”  She’s living the ideal life right now. And they way she lives, makes me believe she is closer to God.

I want to be like her.

I look at the news and see the horror stories of innocent babies abused, neglected and murdered, and I wonder why people who would do such horrid things can have children, and Mr. Man and I can’t.  I see these reports, and my heart breaks, and my arms ache to reach out and hold Toddler close.  I know Scripture says we will never understand why bad things happen to good people on this Earth.  We aren’t supposed to.  And we’re never told that it is going to be easy.   Or fair.

This is another place where Faith comes in, I suppose.  I have to have it, because I have to know that there is a place and a Sanctuary for these poor children to go to when their Spirit is released.

So I continue to cherish Toddler, playing with her, smiling with her, reading to her, singing to her then drinking in her angelic presence as she sleeps.  And I thank God for the blessings of her and the rest of my family, by blood and by love, near and far–and very far–away.

This is my Thanksgiving.

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Please forgive the lack of quotes this weekend.  I’ll make it up to you.  With getting used to my new job, and the visit from my family, I am running short on time.  In fact, I’m going to be fussing at myself in the morning for being up this late anyway.  But I’ll make it.

I usually do.

Domingo Delicioso #25

Please visit http://www.musiciansatlas.com/pages/IMAFinalist/Default.aspx?yr=2008 and vote for my cousin’s band!  Spring Creek Bluegrass Band is the Champion of the 2007 RockyGrass Band Competition and 2007  Telluride Bluegrass Festival Band Competition! WhooHoo! They are a very talented group of musicians who work really hard, and sound FANTASTIC!

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A neat writer visited the blog this week.  Her name is Kelly Mahan Jaramillo and her blog is What Happened?! It Was Just A Life  (I may have the exact title wrong, sorry KMJ!)  She has some great insight on the writer’s strike, you should go check out the info there.

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