I Loves Me Some Tomatoes

This is our first year as tomato growers. We planted 2 cherry tomato plants and 2 patio tomato plants. So far, they're doing pretty good. I still don't get the stories of how someone will have 2 or 3 plants that produce so many tomatoes that they're just "giving them away" to all and sundry. Honestly, my tomatoes can't keep up with my demands, much less those of everyone around me. I guess it could be that I eat them too often and too fast, huh? Nahhhh. That can't be it......... or can it?

The Lazy Flowerbed

Now this is funny. See these Daytura flowers? Growing pretty good, huh? This is one flower bed that takes care of itself. Mainly because it's not a flower bed. Last year, when I was cleaning out the real flower beds, I got a little lazy with the clean up. Instead of bagging some stuff, I just thru it over by the fence, behind Blu's doghouse. Now we have Dayturas growing "wild" and, though you can't see them from this angle, there's also marigolds and mint growing back there, too. Sure wish the flower beds I actually planted thrived as well as this with just as little work!

The New Chair

Hey - check out the new chair. Funky, isn't it? I'm diggin' it. All I need is a martini and Dean Martin walking around and I'd feel like I was in a '60's movie. lol

Has Blu-Boy gone to the Dark Side???

I thought I'd take a quick picture of Randey with the dogs. Sydney the Wonder Dog looked so cute draped over Randey like that. And Blu-Boy! Well he looked like he was guarding Randey or something. Strangely, however, that look translated a little differently thru the eye of the camera. Blu looks like he's channeling Darth Vader. Freaky, huh? I'm not even sure if it's cool...or just plain disturbing.

The Punishment has been Determined!

I knew it. I just knew it. I knew that if I kept griping about the rain, I'd be punished. I griped all last year about the drought and the heat. It felt like we had 100 degree plus temps every day last summer. And the ground was so dry, it was cracking - HUGE cracks formed in the backyard, the earth was actually pulling away from the curbs, the grass crackled when you walked on it. Then came this spring. We got some rain. Cool. Then we got a little more rain. Even cooler. Then we got even more rain. Well, aren't we the lucky ones! We had a water bill one month last year that was over $150. Not this year. No, sir-ree. We don't have to water. We got rain. Lots of rain. Wait a minute. Did I ask for rain? Did I ask for this much rain? Was I crazy? Is the rain ever going to stop? Should we go see "Evan Almighty" and brush up on our ark building skills? Ah to heck with that. I'm just going to issue inner tubes to everybody. Anybody comes to visit, we'll be the family tied together with rope, floating down Main Street. Oh look - there I go again. Griping about the rain, making snide remarks, just begging to have more punishment heaped upon my little pointed head. You'd think I'd learn. Only yesterday, I was shown the error of my ways. Our computer, our poor innocent, happy-go-lucky computer, suffered for my folly. After a particularly vitriolic diatribe about the never ending rain we've had, the electricity started flickering a little. I griped louder. It flickered more. I cursed the rain. Then the rain cursed me. And it cursed me better than I cursed it. It caused rapid and repeated little power outages that resulted in my computer screaming in agony before slipping into a silent and tragic coma. Jeez. When the rain decides to curse you back, it doesn't fool around. So anywho, I worried, I mourned, I pouted, I screamed, I generally showed my butt like you wouldn't believe. Not so much because of what the rain did. After all, I knew I had brought that upon us with my big fat mouth. No, I acted ugly because, after the last time the computer crashed, Mr. Randey was going to make it a priority to start a back-up routine so that we wouldn't lose anymore information. That was last November. Guess what? No back-up. Still. However, this beautiful fine and soggy morning, a computer guru that Randey knows was able to resuscitate our computer with little or no loss of info. Only took him three hours, too. I can't wait for Randey to bring the little feller home (the computer, not the guru). We're having to use Kaleb's computer right now and it's just not the same. We're changed people now. Randey's going to start doing the back-ups and he's going to show the rest of us how to do it, too. And me? I'm going to work really, really hard on NOT griping about all this wonderful wet weather. And if I catch myself slipping up - I'm going to work really, really hard on getting my computer unplugged before I say something I'll come to regret!

Marriage 101...sign me up!

This is a picture of my Aunt Sandi and Uncle Wally. They've been married for...what? something like 38 years, around in there. Can you imagine? In this day and age?
They're both wonderful people, truly. But it takes more than being wonderful to have a great, long lasting marriage. I know plenty of wonderful people who just couldn't make a marriage work. What makes them different? How have they done it? What on earth is their secret? I have a theory about it. I think they must actually LIKE each other. Yeah, I think these two people don't just love each other, they even like to spend time with one another. I think they're partners, in every way. I think they are like yin and yang for one another. They balance each other out and keep each other whole. I think that's what makes it work for them. 'Course, that's only a theory. I could be wrong. But I'm going with it and I'm holding them up as my role model for marriage. When Randey and I have our moments when I'm snarling at him and he's clinching his jaw at me, I'm gonna let it ride. I'm gonna let it ride because getting thru the bad times as well as the good times is the only way I'm going to get to where my Aunt Sandi and Uncle Wally are. And where they are looks like a great place to be.

Gorgeous Godiva Chocolates!

Talk about a random post!
I was going thru the pictures on my computer and came across this delicious looking image. I had taken this picture for a scrapbook I'm doing about "my favorite things". Godiva chocolates definitely qualifies as that! I gripe at Randey for supporting my fat habit, but wow! Godivas! Come on - who in their right mind could say no to them? I like to think of them as "The Breakfast of Champions". Nothing like a hot cup of coffee and a couple of pieces of dark chocolate heaven to get your day started. Hmmmm, hmmmm, ummmm. My goodness. Let me break the calendar out so I can see when the next birthday or holiday or any kind of special occasion is where I can expect another box of these treasures! Looks like the 4th of July is coming up...how can I make Godiva chocolates a necessary part of Independence Day...ah heck, I'll probably have to wait until my birthday. Oh well, anticipation only makes it that much sweeter, right?

Fleeting Beauty

We had a moment of sunshine the other day - it lasted long enough for me to take a picture of our newly bloomed amaryllis. My step-mother gave us this plant a couple of months ago. I think it's a lovely flower - I just wish it hung around a little longer. Still...it was beautiful to look at while it lasted and what more can you ask from a flower?

Havin' fun with my photo programs...

A close-up of Kaleb's eyes - with a little extra blue coloring added in. I was playing around with one of the photo programs I downloaded -Jake's eyes are a little too dark to work using the same method.
I really wish they offered a photography class here at the local community college. I'm pretty sure I'd love it and it would probably save me hours of goofing off on the computer, trying to get different effects. But then what would I do with my spare time? lol

Rain, rain, go away!!!

Pictures taken in the backyard this afternoon. Figured I'd better get a record of some of the stuff before it floats away. After last years drought, I never thought I'd be asking for less rain, but here I am...wishing for a week of dry skies. The rain brings me down sometimes. Too much of a good thing maybe?

Is it really still 6 months until Christmas?????

It's started! It happens to me every year around this time. I'll see something, smell something or maybe even hear something that makes me think of Christmas! We were at Hobby Lobby yesterday and they were putting some Christmas decoration stuff out (I'm assuming for a "Christmas in July" sale). Man oh man! I love that bright shiny stuff. In the words of my very best friend, Susan, "if it ain't gaudy, then Sissy don't want it". She's such a charmer, that one. But she's right. I love the glitter and shine. I love it like nobody's business. Just seeing all the pretty ornaments and sparkly d00dads is like...well, as weird and backwards as it sounds, it's like a balm to my spirit. It makes me feel peaceful and happy and like all is well in the world. Forget the buying of gifts and the frantic list making - just give me a room full of tiny colored lights, a bunch of brightly colored ornaments, knick-knacks and thingy-ma-bobs and maybe a big mug of hot cocoa and I'm...content. I'm getting all dreamy eyed just thinking about it. So I guess I'd better stop. Randey is an extremely kind and tolerant husband, but I don't want to test the limits of that and much more Christmas talk and that tree's coming down out of the attic. I walk a fine line between Christmas lover and Christmas crazy. And, quite frankly, sometimes I find it hard to stick to the path!

It's only hair!

These are pictures of my youngest son Jake. When Jake was a baby, he had beautiful curly hair that I just couldn't bear to cut. Unfortunately, his father could bear to and did. Away went the curls! Randey shaved his head almost bald. Poor thing looked like a little monkey. I was crushed. Didn't see those curls again for years and years. In fact, from about the age of 7 until just 2 years ago, Jake kept his head pretty much shaved. That's about 6 years of near baldness for my baby. But then we moved to what I like to call "civilization". Buzzed heads just aren't all the rage here. So Jake started growing his hair out - day by day, week by week, curl by curl. Much to Jake's surprise, it would seem that girls dig the curls. So now it looks like the boy may never cut his hair again. This doesn't bother me. Mainly because he's not old enough to date just yet. His father, however, is near frantic. Nick, his oldest brother, is threatening to shave Jake's head while he sleeps. His cousin, Megen, is threatening to assist by holding him down. What the heck, people? It's only hair! What's with the hair anger? He keeps it clean and shiny - what more do you want (the picture on the left was taken after he'd mowed the neighbor's yard - that sweatiness doesn't count!)? Personally, I think his curls are perfectly adorable. And I will continue to think that...unless and until the girl situation begins to get on my nerves. Then we'll probably be shavin' him bald...again!

Winter in June (don't I wish!)

This is such a totally random thought, but it's hot and muggy today and this picture from January of Randey and the boys playing in the snow looks sooooo cool right about now.

That Mythical Creature "Good Customer Service"

I was going to start this with "Whatever happened to good customer service?" but now I'm starting to wonder if there ever was such a thing. I mean, surely there was at one point or how would we all be so sure that we're not getting it anymore? Can't miss what you've never had, right? I can vaguely recall going to a restaurant, asking the waiter/waitress a question and getting a knowledgeable answer. I'm thinking those days may be gone forever. The other day, Randey and I were in Ft. Worth and decided to try out an Italian grill (one that shall remain nameless for now). Boy, I love Italian. I love the music, the history, the sound of the language...all of it. But most of all - I love the food. Give me a big ol' honkin' plate of spaghetti and I'm in heaven. I have a rather special fondness for chicken parmigiana, too. I even like a little homemade lasagna every now and again. Ummm, ummm, ummmmm. Oh, but I digress. Here we were at this nice little restaurant - a place neither one of us had ever been. We go in, the atmosphere looks pretty good, the place smells divine (imagine a big fat opera singer belting that word out and you might get an inkling of just how good I thought it smelled) and the staff seemed pretty friendly. We were seated and our waitress hustled right on over to take our drink order. Now I luves me a good margarita. Yessir. But maybe not with Italian food. The rest of the drink menu didn't appeal to me either. But a beer! - now we're talkin'. A frosty cold one. Oh yeah. So I ask Dina, our lovely waitress, just what beer did she have on tap. I think it's important to ask that because you just never know - you might discover the beer of your dreams that way. That's how I discovered Raspberry Wheat beer - at McGuire's Irish Pub in Destin, Florida. If I hadn't asked what was on tap, I'd still be ignorant of the delights of fruity beer. Anywho, Dina, our lovely waitress, was not the bottomless well of information one might have hoped for. Her response to my query? "Ummm, let's see...we have, like, Coors light, ummmm, Bud...light maybe, and ummmmm yeah, like, some kind of Shiner. I really don't know what all we have...ummmmm, I'm trying to think....yeah, that's all I can, like, picture in my head." Hmmmm. Yokie, dokie. I can get Coors and Bud at Wal-Mart. No special delights hiding there. So I settled for unsweet tea. As it was shaping up, I thought I might be needing my wits about me anyway. Then came time to order dinner. The menu featured something called "Grilled Chicken Diavolo". The short description is "grilled chicken breast served with spaghetti and spicy marinara". Ooohh, lah, lah, hold me back. I asked Dina, our lovely waitress, how to pronounce "Diavolo". Dina did not disappoint. That's not to say she knew how to pronounce it, but more like she certainly didn't deviate from the level of service I had already come to expect from her. Her response; "Ummmm, like, I don't really know." giggle, giggle "I, ummmm, think you say it, like ummmmm, Diablo or something like that." As it turns out, she was fairly close. Not exactly accurate, but not as far off as she could have been, I suppose. Confidant that she could convey my order to the kitchen without mangling it beyond recognition, I placed my order for that there Devil Chicken. (Randey ordered the combo - which is so funny if you know how little Randey actually eats when we go out to dinner. Most of the combo ended up in a to-go box.) At last, the food arrives...and it's DIVINE (see previous note about the opera singer). The green beans that came with the chicken weren't worth having, but the chicken, spaghetti and marinara sauce were...well, my gosh, there aren't enough words to describe it. I usually only use "orgasmic" to describe Godiva chocolates, but I'm thinking the devil chicken rated it, too. Well thank goodness the food was good and there was plenty of it. Because Dina, our lovely waitress, had apparently gone on break. Or maybe she retired, I don't know. Enough time passed that when she did eventually stop by to say hey, I damn near didn't recognize her. The time had not been good to her - hair was a little grayer, a few more wrinkles, she looked like she'd lived a hard life since last we'd met. We hadn't fared much better. I suspect Randey and I both looked a little shriveled, probably from dehydration due to a severe lack of refills on our iced teas. We had long ago sucked and crunched the tiny little ice chips left from our teas and had even resorted to licking the condensation off the sides of the glasses. Perhaps if I hadn't been so intent upon snorting, wolfing and raking that de-licious marinara sauce down my gullet, I might have been able to signal for help before the dehydration left us on the verge of extinction. (I don't know what Randey's excuse was - looks to me like he could have launched an expedition to locate our missing waitress. I mean really, when it comes to eating, which of us do you think has more free time - me or Jack Sprat himself?) But he didn't and I didn't and our waitress took advantage of our lax attitudes and disappeared. Dina could head to Vegas with that disappearing act. Hell, maybe she did. She was certainly gone long enough to have made the trip. Now here's the point of my story (yeah, I was starting to wonder if I'd ever get to it, too)...the food was really, really good...so good in fact, that I didn't do more than shake my head at the less than stellar level of service we received. I have become so used to bad service that it no longer phases me, at least not like it used to. I used to get down right irate and would ask for the manager and then write letters to store owners and corporate offices and anybody else who would listen. Now, as long as the food is good, I just accept bad service as being normal. I used to rant and rave that if everyone would stand up and refuse to accept bad customer service, there wouldn't be any bad customer service. And now...well now, I'm just one of the herd. I keep my head down, focus on munching my way on down the trail of life and let the mediocrity of America's service industry become the standard. It saddens me to know this is how I've become. But what the hell...the food was pretty freakin' good.

Marigold blooms

Randey's roses

For Aunt Sandi, a Ruby Slipper Daisy, a white Daytura, a Lily, Lantana and yellow Esperanza

Another pic of Sydney the Wonder Dog...and he still looks Chinese. What up w' dat?

Sydney the Wonder Dog. He looks....kind of Chinese, huh?

Bustin' a Cap

I chipped a tooth. Feelin' pretty happy about that. And not just any tooth. A front tooth. Well technically, I busted a cap that was bonded to a front tooth. Hey! Don't hate me because I'm lucky. That's just the way it is. I figure I'm about one more physical catastrophe away from becoming the next guest on Jerry Springer. I've been porkin' right on up, my hair needs mowin' (both head and legs), most of my clothes have paint splotches on 'em and now I have a chipped front tooth. I guess all I really need is a cigarette hanging out of my mouth, a beer in one hand, a barbed wire tattoo on my bicep and a baby or two hanging off my hips to turn myself into the quintessential white trash grandma. Luckily, I quit smoking, it's too early for a beer, tattoos aren't my thing and (somewhat unluckily) my grandchildren aren't with me right at this minute. Other than that, though - there's not much standing between me and Jerry Springer fame! I'll start working on distancing myself from that fate. Got a dentist appointment July 2nd, a haircut is just a phone call away and we've already discussed that weight issue (remember - I'm only staying chunky because my husband wants me like that!). Here's hoping the dentist works fast and painlessly (ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha) and nothing else goes wrong - like peeling toenails or some other strange affliction.