Thursday, July 31, 2008

Delicious and Fun

Got a wicked child? Trying to incorporate more evil into lunchtime? Here is an idea (surprisingly rejected by Family Fun Magazine) for you to try:

Babies for Lunch

Swaddle hot dogs in buttermilk biscuits, draw little sleeping eyes with your very favorite non-toxic marker and place in pan. Then have your real baby sing lullabies and give them each a kiss goodnight. Place in oven pre-heated to 375° while your four year-old laughs maniacally. Cook babies for ten minutes. Serve with blood-red ketchup.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Right on Target

There must be opposition in all things. Dark/light. Day/night. wal*mart/TARGET. We can't appreciate one without the other. I hate hate hate going to wal*mart. (You know this). TARGET, on the other hand, is my happy place. So I was dreading going to wal*mart today for groceries when my friend reminded me that there was a new TARGET and it was a SUPER TARGET. I thought, "That's a little redundant ... like saying Super Superman." But then she told me that meant there would be groceries there. So that turned my frown upside down and I was on my way. It was not as close as I would have liked but it would be worth it, I was sure of it. When I got there, there was a big sign that said,"Open July 27". Bummer. But there were cars in the parking lot so I drove up to the front and one of the heros in red was out front. I rolled down my window and he said,"you can come in and shop if you want - we could use the practice." It was like the Disneyland Dream Squad all over again. Seriously. So I went in. It was glorious. Clean and new. Other heros in red got excited when they saw me there and began to follow me around.

Can I help you find something?
Can I get something down for you?
Cool new carts, huh?
You smell nice.
Please let me help you.
No, me!

At one point there were four following me. I really thought they might of been dancing behind me as I walked - not unlike "I Think I'm Gonna Like it Here" a la Annie. I would turn around really fast and they would pretend to be straightening something on a shelf or tying their shoes. They were wish, wish, wishing I would need help. Too bad I could don a red shirt myself and tell people the location of any product in that store.

Unfortunately, however, the Super in Super TARGET wasn't so super. They didn't have many groceries and the ones they did have were overpriced. But it was worth the trip. One of my fantasies came true. It was like I got a Make-A-Wish even though I'm all better. I'll check it off the list. Now on to working in a cranberry bog...

Monday, July 21, 2008

New Greens!

Bazzill Basics Paper is rolling out two new greens: Granny Smith and Sour Apple. To celebrate, we blew a circuit breaker and let the pump and chlorinator have a vacation while we were gone. Here is the result:

Thursday, July 17, 2008

boys vs. girls

i've been around long enough to notice some subtle differences between boys and girls. I've even noticed some physical differences over the years. But that's not what I'm talking about. It's the other stuff that has got me thinking. I'm speaking in humongous generalities here, so forgive me. When we're little, the boys were better at sports - mostly - and girls were nicer - mostly. Boys played with dinosaurs and trucks - obligatory "mostly" - and girls played with dolls and dress-up. As we got older, boys would punch us and we would tease them. They would get a long by not saying much to each other and we would gossip ourselves out of as many friendships as we could in the time allotted. SO time goes on and the sexes separate more and more.

Then you get married. By then you're as different as night and day. He does the "boy jobs" and you do the "girl jobs". He takes out the trash and mows the lawn and goes to work. Occasionally, he lifts heavy things, opens jars or puts something together. He is in charge of your homes "technology" - anything from a little toy car that has a battery in it to the dvd player and YOUR computer. He takes care of anything that is high or dangerous. He must also wildly throw around any people you two have made together. His "poop" duties only include his own or a large dog's - if you have one. These jobs can be done when time allows.

As a girl, you get to make more people, feed and clothe those people (and your husband). You are in charge of all poop. You must remember all birthdays and maintain all family relationships. You have to organize a social calendar and provide babysitters so all functions can be attended. You have to look great all the time. You have to know the stars of your local sports team and why you love them SO MUCH. It goes without saying that shopping, laundry and dishes are girl jobs. If they weren't, there would be no really funny jokes out there about being kicked. These things must be done every day.

That's not to say that you can't help each other out once in a while. My husband is great, in fact when he's feelin' it - he's better than I am at most things. He helps out a lot when he's in the mood. That's the beauty of being a dude, I think. You can pick and choose what you want to do and when. If you choose to help out around the house, you get showered with praise and other valuable prizes. If you don't - you get in big trouble but you still get to eat and have clothes and people to throw around.

I sound like a hater. I am not a hater. I'm a lover. I just made the mistake of trying to pick and choose what I wanted to do instead of sticking to my girl jobs. I didn't want to unload the car and clean up the big mess that 3300+ miles can do to a van. I didn't want to make meals appear from a house that hadn't seen groceries in two weeks. So I thought WWJD? (That's What Would Jaymee Do, in case you were wondering.) So I jumped on the lawn mower and got to mowing the lawn instead. I was helping. I got to listen to music, drink something cold and refreshing and kids weren't even allowed near me. Perfect. Why can't I? I can sit on a machine and drive around like any man can.

Except that I rolled the lawnmower and wrecked it.

Anybody want me to make dinner?

Saturday, July 12, 2008


(look! it's a flake in the shape of illinois! I live there and I'm a flake!!)

thanks to all of you that emailed me and left comments - i feel loved - i've had a change of plans tomorrow and won't be able to make it down for lunch. I'm sorry. What a flake I am. I love you all, too, and wish with all my heart that we could get together to pull out our laptops and write to each other across the table at some yummy restaurant. I'm really lame in person, though, so it's kind of a relief. (the real reason for the change of plans? you'll never know... ) Also my hair makes me look like a dark chicken. Seriously - my hair is almost black. what is that all about?

Unrelated: I met a girl out here at church who has Ewing's sarcoma. She was brave and beautiful enough to go to church bald. She is one of THREE teens in that ward that has been affected. Why is that significant? One in about a million get that form of cancer and they have THREE in one ward. I can't believe it. I went over and talked to her for a little while today and she is amazing. She has gone through everything I have and and whole lot more. She was diagnosed last august ad is still getting chemo every couple weeks. She is going to have whole pelvis radiation too. She has already gone through radiation on her back as well as surgery and so much more. Poor thing. She acts like it's no big deal. She rules. I am so happy I got to meet her.

Oh, and most importantly, I need to give a shout out to my man for taking (and surely passing) his BOARDS today. He is done done. really done. I'm so proud of him and can't wait to see him tomorrow ... partly because I want Pres to sleep in his neck for a few nights .. but mostly because I love his smarty guts and have missed him like crazy.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008


Sorry to flake out and leave you hanging. So many rides, you see. You've all been to Lagoon. I know you understand. Terror Ride? Terror is an understatement. Wow. Maybe I'll have my kids make a face out of playdough and paint it with fluorescent glowy paint to terrify and horrify you.

About lunch... I was thinking of meeting saturday afternoon in Salt Lake about 12:30? Anyone know anywhere good? Anybody still available to go? Bueller?

Monday, July 7, 2008

greetings from utah

i survived the 3o hour journey mostly intact. Nebraska didn't impress me. It seemed like i was there for four days. We stayed in Ogaloogahellaballua, Wyoming at the stagecoach inn. What a beautiful resort. The smell of our room burned my nostrils... and not in a good way. (gil) My friend Kim came with me and I felt bad for her. I forced her to sing lullabies to Presto most of the way. Mason took the 1400 miles to perfect the most annoying sound. Why is there only Subway at every stop? There are other foods, right?

We went up to the cabin and I had no phone or internet until now. Luxury. Melanie and I tubed the river with our big kids. We hit our rear ends on many rocks and slabs of ice. Sweet. Our kids have been in "Fort" mode which is my favorite mode. They have an HQ and a dead moose carcass and a huge swing. Preslie took a nap with her Grammy on a blanket by the river. I learned a couple new card games and got to call my sister "IDIOT!" I love the cabin with all my heart. It is small and we are big - but it's worth it.

My brother Jamey (Yes, Jamey ... we reuse many names in my family - right Melanies?) and I took the big kids down to the lake to go boating, or rather, to be pulled on a tube behind a boat. I got married when Jamey was nine and so we don't know everything about eachother. I wanted him to think I was not a frumpy momoffour so I challenged him to a tube ride "gladiator style". Last one on wins. I won. I lost the use of my shoulders, got a mouth full of blood and woke up today with a stiff neck. But I won. I won, I tell you.

Tomorrow is Lagoon day. I am going to ride Colossus, win an oversized deck of cards playing skeeball and look at some old pioneer china from behind a plastic sneezeguard. Let me know if you want me to pick you up a plastic gorilla full of lemonade.