Happy birthday, mama! (And Murray!)

Today is a very special day. It's the day when I celebrate one of the most important people in my life.

She is beautiful. She's brilliant and funny. She has a heart big enough to love the whole world.

She gives the best hugs. And she always laughs at my jokes, no matter how silly they are.

Whenever we're together, we laugh.

We laugh and laugh and laugh, until everyone else has stopped laughing and wonders what could possibly still be funny.

At that point, we're just laughing at each other laughing.

Mom, I love you. Oooh, I love you! And I hope this day is as wonderful as you are.

Looking emotional at my wedding:

*** *** ***

This is also the day I celebrate my first baby. The tiny furry man who totally stole my heart seven years ago:

Murray, Mama loves you. I'll be a better mama to my "real" kids someday because you trained me well. :)

Thank you for being my baby. And for being so tolerant:

Going with the "kindness and karma" theme...

I've been getting caught up on Grumbles and Grunts's "Kindness and Karma" posts, and it made me remember a brief anecdote from my travels last weekend.

Scene: Airport check-in counter

Harried Mother in Pink Shirt: I'd like to check this bag please.

Bored Airline Staffer: (weighing the bag) This is one pound overweight.

HMiPS: Uh, OK, what do I need to do about that?

BAS: I'll have to charge you extra for it. Or, you can remove one pound of stuff.

HMiPS: (with kids hanging off of her as she tries to remain upright) Huh? How am I supposed to know how much a pound is? And where am I supposed to put it?

BAS: (staring vacantly off into the distance) Uh, whatever. You just need to fix it.

HMiPS: (kids now starting to cry, starting to get death glares from other travelers) Is an extra pound really that big of a deal? Can't you just put it through? I can't...

BAS: (getting combative) Look, the alternative is, I could just not check the bag at all, hand it back to you and let you figure it out somewhere else. But you need to figure it out and then move along, because people are waiting.

And, scene.

The reality is, we WERE waiting. And probably HMiPS should have just moved some stuff to her purse and moved on.

But BAS could see that she was harried, that her children were losing it, and that HMiPS was about to lose it herself, and could have (at the very least) been a little nicer. I'm sure BAS has 500 of these kinds of encounters per day, but still: Would it have killed her to be a little more understanding?

Thoughts?

(Full disclosure: My siding with HMiPS may or may not be related to the fact that BAS shortly thereafter messed up our boarding passes, delaying us to the point where we had to hustle to make our plane. So maybe she was just an idiot. :) How's that for kindness and karma?)

It's coming...

My recap of our girls' weekend, that is. The thoughts and photos are still being organized, and it'll likely be a two-parter, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, here's a shot of our customary strip of beach (and my feet). Don't hate us. :)

In just a few hours...

These aren't my pictures.

But they could be after this weekend.

My best friend, B, and I are headed to Florida for a girls' weekend as you're reading this. It's B's first time on a plane, and our first time taking a girls' vacation, period.

White sandy beaches.

Sunscreen.

Mid-80s weather.

Four-day weekend.

Sleeping in.

Sushi.

Tons of girl talk.

Karaoke with complete strangers.

See y'all in a few days. :)

I've gotta say it, LOST writers...

...I was disappointed with the way you FINALLY got Sun and Jin back together on LOST this week.

I mean, after all these weeks of searching and trials and looking forlorn, they just...see each other across the beach? And then share crappy, cheesy dialogue? And then are immediately arrested by the latest batch of Island Crazies?

Very disatisfying. And a disservice to two of the most likeable characters on a show filled with unlikeable characters (Jack, I'm looking at you).

Fail.

Boo.

Also, as I was telling Two Pretzels last night, if Claire's hair doesn't stop resembling the schmutz I yank out of my shower drain once a month, I may have to start boycotting her scenes altogether:

It makes me itchy.

Google rules

I imagine it must be exciting and inspiring to be one of the designers working on the Google logo. Love today's for Earth Day:



(I'm sure the designers there have the same annoying experiences as designers/writers at any corporation. But come on. This is, at least, different from your typical Helvetica Bold design. Ten Pennies, I wonder if they're told, "I need something that says, 'Earth.' And that really pops. Go." Heehee.)

Happy Birthday, MM!

A faTABulous happy birthday to my wonderful, new-mama, sassy-mama friend Metacognitive Musings!

A, you're such an amazing woman, and I'm so lucky to call you my friend. :) I hope your first birthday as a mama is treating you well, and I hope you get to do something JUST for you today. You deserve it!

Happy birthday, friend! Love you bunches.

Cindy Lou Who is wearing my shoes

This weekend, I had the distinct pleasure of hanging out with my almost-21-month-old niece, Cadence.

I hadn't seen her for at least two months, so I was unaccustomed to how comfortable she'd gotten with this whole walking thing.

Not going to lie, it kind of freaked me out when she not only walked over to me, but did so while wearing my shoes:


(Tell me she doesn't look like Cindy Lou Who from The Grinch that Stole Christmas!? SO cute.)

Here, she crouched down in front of me and said "Cheese!" Kids learn fast. Holy cow.


(Sorry for the blurryish pics. However, she moves. A lot. And quickly.)

A few more pictures (as well as a video) to come.

Roll out the red carpet!

A hearty "welcome!" to my friend and fellow writer (and boss!), 36x37! She has started a brand new blog, all about her project for the next year of her life: She's going to do 36 things she's never done, before her 37th birthday (hence: 36 by 37).

I'm sure she won't need any help promoting her brand new baby (she's a fabulous writer, and it's such a great concept), but I encourage you to check her out.

Welcome, Maura!

In case you were wondering, there IS an Herb of the Year

So, one of my favorite things about living in (or near) a small town is goofy small town events.

Example? Every summer, the little town nearest to us hosts the Sweet Corn Festival. If you thought this might feature the Sweet Corn Princess singing songs in the town square while the local folks eat corn and fair food...you win a prize to be named later. It.is.awesome.

This past weekend, I attended another such event, hosted by a local greenhouse (that apparently has been around since the beginning of time, which is also awesome). The name of this event?

Herb Daze.



(Note: I'm almost 100-percent positive that no one planning this event thought about the possible connection between that cutesy spelling of "days" and marijuana. Which made it even more adorable.)

While it was definitely a small town event (read: small and kind of goofy), it was actually kind of great.

The whole thing was held inside the greenhouse, so we had the benefit of being surrounded by hundreds of thousands of green, growing things. It made for a lovely atmosphere:


Their agenda actually looked really interesting: How to grow herbs, creating a serenity herb garden, aromatherapy, cooking with herbs, pampering your skin and making other fun stuff, like cocktails, ice cream and sorbet.

The event was a full day (all free), so I only stayed for the cooking and skin pampering segments (i.e., the segments during which I could get the most free samples). And, I was impressed! The culinary teacher from a local high school, set up in full chef regalia, prepared a full meal: grilled chicken with mustard dill sauce, new potatoes roasted with herbs, this cottage cheese dill bread that was OUT OF THIS WORLD amazing, rhubarb crunch and this apple salad thingie that I was not all about.



(Seriously: I almost attacked the other people there to get to the rest of the cottage cheese bread. It sounds ridiculous, but it was soo tasty.)

And in addition to the program agenda, they also had little vendors set up around the greenhouse, selling their herb-related wares. There was the usual boring stuff (Tastefully Simple and Pampered Chef), but there were a bunch of awesome local tables, staffed by folks in the area who were just selling their homemade stuff. This woman and her business partner were selling homemade tea blends and lavendar soap (she was mortified when I took this picture; how cute is she?):


The coolest thing (I thought) was the local woman who baked cookies using crushed lavendar. She had three different kinds of cookies, all with the lavendar baked in. They were FABULOUS (especially this Pecan Sandie-type cookie; SO GOOD).

And, in my favorite moment of the entire day, here was her response when I asked her where I could find these cookies regularly (meaning, I thought, a local bakery or something): "Um, I just make them? In my house? So...if you needed some...you could just...call me?"

Awesome.

In summary: It was a totally wonderful way to spend a spring Saturday. If you live anywhere near Mansfield, it's absolutely worth checking out.

Oh, and the 2010 Herb of the Year? Was dill. Who knew?

Things children should never sing (or talk) about

1. Their "baby" (presuming they don't, you know, actually HAVE an actual baby; kids are starting young these days, is all I'm saying)


2. Their "lover" (ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwwwww)


3. Their "shortie" (and I'd like to go on record as saying that no one, of any age, should ever call anyone this) (that goes for "lover," too) (ew)

In other words, Justin Bieber needs to think about a new career. Or at least consider choosing different songs.

Ew.

Shouldn't he be on a playground right now, and/or playing Atari or whatever it is the kids are doing nowadays? {Rocking chair creaking as I rise to yell at the neighborhood kids to get off my lawn}

Spring

The beautiful flowering...something {I'm bad with plant names} tree in our front yard.

I just love living someplace that lets us experience every season. I don't know if I'd appreciate spring this much if it didn't follow such bleak winter months.

Brotherly love, in my living room. (Sorry, Philly.)

So, again, I must stress that we do not pose our dogs.

And have I mentioned just how very much they love one another?

With zero prompting from us, this is how they decided to hang out during LOST this week:


I mean... Dog spooning. How can it get cuter than this??

And, lest you think that this is just a casual arm thrown over a shoulder, please look at Bubba's armpit. That's Murray's other foot poking out under him.

In other words, he has BOTH arms around his brother.

They slept like this for over an hour.

I'm not sure I could love them more if they were my actual children.

Have a great weekend!

Excuse me, sir. There's a doughnut on your head.

It's no secret: I heart me some dogs. And next to our own babies, our neighbors' dogs are, without doubt, the nearest and dearest to our hearts. Besides being Murray's and Bubba's BFFs (well, other than each other), Romeo, Othello and Remington are, frankly, just adorable.

So when Romeo got into a scuffle with another dog and came away with 15 staples in his poor, little leg, we were aghast.

And then we saw him.

And yes, his leg looked awful. But look what he had to wear to keep from bothering the wound:


Um. How CUTE is that?!

Apparently (and maybe you know this already), this innertube thingie now takes the place of the traditional (and hated) plastic cone in the way of anti-licking technology. Instead of a hard, plastic, right-in-their-line-of-sight-so-it-freaks-them-out, taking-out-your-kneecaps-and-chunks-of-drywall cone, now the dog can just gently bounce off anything that gets in his or her way, and still allow their wounds to heal.

Brilliant.

Also, Romy had a built-in pillow whenever he wanted to take a nap. He settled down, rested his head on the doughnut and zonked out. (It may have also helped that he was on some hardcore pain meds.) We took care of him for a few days while his worried parents were dealing with some work emergencies, and he did amazingly well.

We did think the doughnut might prevent him from sleeping sprawled on his back, in his usual style.

We were wrong.

Cutie pie.

Uber-quick and easy recipe. Also, hi!

I'm working my way back to the idea of blogging regularly (work has become more manageable, so now it's just getting out of the mindset of Not! One! More! Thing!), so I figured I'd start out small with a quick recipe that I have been eating the hell out of recently.

I love black beans. I love couscous. I love spicy. Three great tastes that go great together.

I know a lot of people love couscous either cold or at room temperature. To me, this makes it seem as though I am eating dirt. So I always eat couscous hot. You, however, are welcome to eat this at whatever temperature you like (but you HAVE to eat it. Oh, all right, no you don't). And, it's pretty darn healthy, so you know. Added bonus.

(This is also great for those "Oh, crap, it's time for dinner and I have nothing in the house" nights, because I always seem to have a couple cans of beans and a box of couscous lying around.)

Shannon's Spicy Black Bean Couscous

• 2 cans black beans (you can soak (and soak and soak) dry beans if you want, but I lose patience with this quickly)
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 1/2 red pepper, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• Spices to taste (I use cayenne pepper and a teensy pinch of garlic salt)
• 1 box whole wheat couscous

Prepare the couscous and set it aside (but don't forget that whole fluffing-it-with-a-fork thing. I learned this the hard way when one batch took on the shape of the pot it was cooked in and refused to relent).

In a large skillet, heat the olive oil. Saute the onion, red pepper and garlic with the spices.

Add the black beans to the skillet and cook for five minutes or so, to allow all the spicy goodness to cook in.

Dump the (fluffed) couscous into a large bowl (or storage container, if you aren't eating it immediately) and stir in the black bean mixture.

Eat or store. Or both. Makes a TON (at least 6 servings).

YUM.

OK then, OLD MAN.

Hear ye, hear ye.

Attention, please.

If a female co-worker is clearly over the age of 18, it is no longer acceptable to call her "young lady."

No, it doesn't matter if you are older than her.

No, it doesn't matter if you think she LOOKS like a teenager.

No, it doesn't matter if you "meant it in a nice way."

It isn't endearing. It's condescending.

So unless you want her to start calling you "Pops," and making snarky comments about Social Security and Depends, even though you are clearly in your 40s?

Shut it.

That is all.

Hockey!

A loooooong, long time ago (going on 10 years, actually), T and I went on our first date. To a hockey game.

I highly recommend attending a sporting event on a first or second date, actually; you get to sit close, but not too close, and there's enough going on that you don't have to talk CONSTANTLY to fill the silence, but it's not like a movie where you can't say ANYTHING. Although, there is the problem of the Jumbotron.

When there's a lull in the action, the SUPER fun and original audio/visual folks at the arenas enjoy panning the crowds so folks can see themselves on the Jumbotron and act all embarrassed at first before jumping up and down like total lunatics and doing dance moves they would never, ever do under normal circumstances.

On the night of our first date, they kept doing this SUPER fun and original bit to the tune of the at-the-time new Faith Hill song "This Kiss." They'd show a couple onscreen, and then everyone would cheer until the couple kissed. If they didn't kiss, everyone would boo. (There's a metaphor for life in there somewhere.)

Anyway, years later we both revealed to one another than we were each separately STRICKEN WITH TERROR at the thought that we would be forced to either A) kiss on our first-ever date (ack!) or B) have to deal with being booed on our first date, AND C) probably remembering the insanely awkward experience every time we kissed thereafter.

Thankfully, the hockey gods smiled upon us, and we proceeded unscathed into our relationship. It's kind of scary to think that the last 10 years of my life could have been vastly different but for the whims of a really bored cameraman.

Last night, we got to relive the whole thing. Thankfully, we again emerged unscathed (we're down with the kissing, but not so much the kissing on a 50-foot screen). Our awesome friends/neighbors gave T tickets to see his beloved Chicago Blackhawks play the Columbus Blue Jackets for his birthday (not to mention concession stand vouchers...hot dog...drooooooollll); the photo above is of our awesome seats, right behind one of the goals.

The evening started out very well. We were in a whole section full of Blackhawks fans (in fact, there seemed to be ONLY Blackhawks fans everywhere we looked...), and the nine or so people directly in front of us were a fun bunch. They brought a bunch of huge letters spelling out "BLACKHAWKS" that they planned to flaunt every time Chicago scored:

Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of Chicago scoring going on. But we were still entertained when the smallest person in their entire group ate the largest burger I've ever seen (it looks a lot smaller in this photo; it was hugondous) (yes, that is a word; I declare it so):

As I've mentioned in the past, I'm not much of a sports person (like, at ALL), but I do enjoy a good live event, particularly if the team I'm rooting for is winning.

Alas.

Here's a picture of the score at the end of the second period:

(Sorry about the weird lighting; my phone camera saw all the arena lights and started rocking back and forth and talking to itself.)

(Also, if you look at the Jumbotron screen, an announcer is interviewing a man dressed up as mustard. He and two other men dressed up as ketchup and relish, respectively, raced around some orange cones during one of the breaks and competed to see who could be the first to score a goal. Apparently mustard won.)

By the time we left, the score was 8-2, Blue Jackets. Amazingly, though, my sports-obsessed husband was still in good spirits, and even swung my hand around as we were walking through the rain (and, later, SNOW) to our car. I think he's growing.

Sporadic

"It means 'once in awhile.' Try using it in a sentence today."

Ah, Clueless. You made 1995 so much more bearable.

So, I just thought I'd post a sad warning (well...another one) that my postings on this blog are going to indeed be somewhat sporadic for the foreseeable future.

My goal in starting this blog was to post something every day or at least every other day. Alas, silly things like "work" and "life" keep getting in the way.

In the meantime, please be assured that I WILL keep reading all of your lovely blogs, and dreaming of the day when time won't be at quite so much of a premium. All I ask, dear friends, is that you please don't give up on me completely.

I'll leave you today with this image, which inexplicably turned up when I Google-imaged the word "sporadic." It's the creepiest goat face I ever did see, and I'm fairly certain I'll have nightmares about it tonight:

Even on a Monday...

...a couple of things are still making me smile.

1. Although my flowerbeds (and yard) are full of mud, #1) it isn't snow, and #2) green things are starting to spring up! For the second year in a row! Totally contrary to my inability to keep green things alive! Nature and I are finally allies! (This makes up a little for the avocado/sprouts debacle last week. A little.)


2. Leftovers rock. I could probably eat this leftover asparagus (with garlic -- YUM) for the rest of my life without stopping. I don't care if I'm smelly until the end of time; it is tasty.


3. Our lovely neighbors brought me a six-pack of my favorite Snapple beverage yesterday. In addition to enjoying its lovely flavor, I also enjoy the little factoids Snapple prints on the inside of each cap.


4. A duck has three eyelids, BTW.


5. Also, Barbie has a full name. It's Barbara Millicent Roberts. You are welcome.


6. I have been eating everything in sight for a solid week, not getting enough sleep and not working out. It's life; it happens; I was prepared for the imminent weight gain and ready to work it all off again. But somehow, I've only gained one pound. Still not great, but wow, could it have been worse. I have developed a really unhealthy relationship with potatoes, and it's time to break up. Or at least start seeing other, non-starchy vegetables.


7. Everyone is talking about March Madness. This is the first year in a long time that I've done a bracket, and I like actually having a (somewhat-informed) opinion about something sports-related. It feels like visiting another planet.


8. My husband is cute. More on that tomorrow.


9. ASPARAGUS!

Nature wants me to stay fat.

In an effort to help along this whole weight-loss thing (particularly since I can't seem to get on track with the working out -- although I'm not giving up), I've been really trying to eat well.

So, I've been eating good food, food that's high in fiber, fresh food whenever possible, lots of fruits and vegetables. But it has to taste good, too, or I just won't eat it. Life's too short, etc.

I also have the added obstacle of needing to eat lunch and dinner at work three times a week (my one-hour commute puts me home too late to eat dinner). So it has to be something either warm-up-able in the microwave, or something that's good cold.

Last weekend I was cruising our grocery store and happened upon a giant pile of avocados. I HEART me some avocados. And I suddenly thought: These would be perfect. I'll get a loaf of fibertastic bread, some sprouts and some avocados, and I'll have myself the healthiest sandwich this side of the Mississip'.

Yesterday, I assembled said sandwich for the first time. Ohhhh, it was heavenly. The avocado was juuuuust the right amount of ripe: slightly squishy but not slimy. And it went so perfectly with the bread (something called Double Fiber; you're welcome, colon!) and the sprouts that my mouth was watering in between bites. SO GOOD. (Just looking at the picture at the top of this post, I want another one RIGHT NOW.)

Then, about 15 minutes after I'd finished it, I started feeling weird. I started coughing a little, and I realized my throat was scratchy. I had that weird, itchy feeling I get when I'm having an allergic reaction to...oh, crap.

I'm allergic to a LOT of plants. Like, not anaphylactic shock allergic, but itchy skin, watery eyes, nose burning allergic. Grass, trees, most outdoor plants. As I've grown older, this has started expanding to include a lot of raw vegetables, too.

And, now, apparently it also includes raw avocados.

Really, nature? Really? Do we really have to go through this again, like that time with the raw carrots when I nearly clawed the back of my throat just to stop it from scratching and got that awful pit in my stomach? Why are you doing this to me? And I thought avocados were a FRUIT, anyway. What is up with that?!

Ugh.

Of course, this never happens when I eat guacamole. Only the healthier fresh avocados.

See? Nature wants me to stay fat. Maybe she's freaking out because she made it so cold in Florida that they can't grow tomatoes and oranges or whatever, so she's trying to keep us addicted to fried things and trans fats so she can restock her wares or something. Well, I don't care. Scratchy throat be damned, I'm eating the avocados. Eat THAT, NATURE.

On a side note, while I was searching Google Images for that lovely beauty shot of the avocados, I saw a few glorious pictures of avocado trees. TREES FILLED WITH AVOCADOS. Somehow, I have never once envisoned where avocados come from, and never even thought about the existence of avocado trees. Can you imagine walking out into your yard and just grabbing an avocado anytime you want?! We have a pear tree, but you can only eat so many pears. But according to Wikipedia, avocado trees can only grow in tropical-type climates. Of which Ohio is decidedly NOT one. Boo.

Google Images also had this picture of avocado milk, which intrigued me -- although I'm not sure why it's garnished with a dill pickle slice:

And, this one made me laugh. I didn't see it in context, but I'm assuming it's referring to the debate about all the "good fat" in avocados. Heehee.