food for the soul . . .

Sometimes if you wander off the beaten path at the farmer's market, you can find all sorts of little gems tucked away. Here is one such beauty:

a drop dead perfect day . . .

After dropping Kaity off at school, I remembered it was farmer's market day, so I called Joanie who mentioned we might also walk the bridge and so five minutes later, we were parked at the base of the bridge, headed to the market on the far side:

I didn't make it past the first booth before buying some fresh sea bass for dinner tonight. And then we passed these:

and these:

and a little of this:

and some of that:

and of course, these:

not to mention the bakery booth. Just let me faint in happiness right now. Suffice it to say, my banana nut loaf never made it 'til dinner . . .

and then, not being content with just a morning of sun and goodness, I grabbed the 9TS, threw him in my ancient little Miata and we headed north to Snack Jack's for some beer and clams . . . he being the clam eater.

So a couple of these:

and then a few of these:

some horseradish:

a little cocktail sauce:

a contented man:

a little funky ambiance:

some more oddness:

a little ocean view:

and we're off into the wild blue yonder:

a beautiful day indeed!!!

the making of crispys 1, 2, 3 . . .

So the kidlet comes home last week with a bag of marshmallows and a box of Rice Crispy's. That means only one thing in my book: Rice Crispy treats . . . something I have not had the pleasure of concocting in all of my 61 years. But something that seems to have sustained my kidlet in lieu of decent meals for the last several months. Does this reek of college student or what????

It was a joint effort. She cooked . . . I gleefully snapped away.

First you melt the butter in a teflon pan. Teflon being the important adjective here as you will soon learn:

the you add those glorious puffs of meltable goodness, the marshmallows:

and stir gently until covered in butter. No calories here:

oh, and retrieve any escapees who seem to know instinctively what is in store for them:

Then you merely wait until you have marshmallow soup:

Now add 7,952 snapping, crackling and popping crispys. Ear plugs are helpful at this stage as they seem to know they are about to be tarred and feathered minus the feathers:

Stir vigorously and spoon into pan:

No shot of stirring vigorously? Have you tried this recipe lately? Stirring this little puppy is like walking uphill in thigh high molasses on a cold day, you need both hands on the pot and two more on the spoon.

Did you forget to spray the spatula before trying to smooth down the mixture? I did and it's apparently a crucial step, as the mixture went into spider monkey mode and stuck to EVERYTHING it came into contact with. I soon found all ten fingers glued together, the spoon adhered to the stove top, and a passing cat trying to lick some out of her fur.

Let cool and consume.

All in all, it was an interesting afternoon even if I am still finding odd clumps of mixture around the kitchen . . . .

can do . . . .

my woman's loop is on a diet. Well not all of them but a nice little handful. Misery loves company and all that . . . I don't do diets. Even the mention of the word in connection with myself makes me ravenous. Years of trying has taught me that Jeanne + Diet = Weight Gain. So I am not joining in. But one of the girls mentioned she had lost 35 pounds over a year by portion control and exercise.

I can do that!

So my new aim is to eat what I have always eaten but less of it and get my lazy can out of the lounge chair and out onto the street. It's time to start walking and riding my bike again. YAY!

I can do this!

the great shift . . .

I was wandering around Wally-World the other day, initially to pick up another heat wrap for the 9TS . . . his last having exploded in the microwave . . . think not so aromatic rice pellets EVERYWHERE!

Anyway, there I was perusing the body maintenance aisle and along came a woman of some vintage with beautifully sculpted arms and legs and a belly that looked nine months pregnant. I did a double take until it finally settled in that as we age, our body parts shift. Mine most certainly have.

At yoga, I am the only woman who cannot wear form fitting pants. Everyone else can! Why not I you ask? Because I have saddle bags. You know that weight that never quite made it to my chest, that gravitated instead, back and around and slid below the waist and just under the hips along side my tush . . . as the song goes . . . accentuate the positive. I am accentuated alright. You could load those pouches with grub and last in the desert for months.

I envy woman of a certain age who still look proportional and wonder how they avoided the dreaded collection of shifted fat cells be they on their hips, thighs, bellies, or knee caps. Yes, I have fat knees too.

Forget it, I think I will just raise my bat winged arms and fly along the thermals that promise to make today yet another excellent day in Florida.

Man, it rained last night . . . poured . . . as in thunder and lightening . . . in full regalia. Mother Nature had a growth spurt. Utterly amazing. And so we went from new buds to Amazon rain forest over night. And it smells delicious . . . like only a cleansing rain can leave this earth . . . one of the few times I am convinced that you really can smell color.

And in its wake, Hawky's bush is in full bloom.

I have no idea what kind of plant it is. It is sandwiched in the depth of the jungle that has become our backyard. But every April it springs forth in bloom like a resurrection and reminds us of the joy that little gray cat gave us for all the years of his life . . . as he, Flup and Bru are all entombed at its foot.

Thank you mother nature for your grace.

Purple haze . . .

I was wandering around the yard this morning playing with my camera since I seem to be fascinated with Karenika's nature shots. And since I finally got my camera raw editor up and running on my Mac, it was play time, which as we all know is so much more fun than attacking the load of ironing that has accumulated on top of my dryer . . . to the point which my dryer growls at me as I pass by every morning doing absolutely nothing to alleviate its misery . .

This post brought to you by the letters T and P . .

There has been a feeling of malaise hovering over the cave lately. The 9TS is slow to heal, sleepless and uncomfortable, my normal pluck, has plunked its last plink and sputtered to a halt. Sigh. But then a topic arose that gave me pause . . .

Toilet paper. Yes, folks, toilet paper.

Have you seen the commercials where the Charmin bear has, um, 'lint cling'? Frankly it seems to be just a little too much information even for a bare bear bottom. I understand the concept . . . all of the "new and improved - ultra" tissues seem to produce 'dooty dandruff'. You might want to stop reading at this point, I am on a roll it seems *giggle*.

And then one of the fine upstanding denizens of my woman's loop, shared this little goodie - a present not to be gifted to those you love.

And finally, this morning, over on Sue's blog was this little link. After all, we know how things come in three's. But seriously, who needs this:

or this:

or even this:

and of course this gives new meaning to the phrase: Kiss my . . . .

and the cost of these goodies? A mere $8.95 a roll or three for $24.00. Such a deal.

Well maybe there was one little plunk left in the old girl after all . . .

EDIT: Here is the Sue's original link to origami TP, in case you get bored at home.

only in Florida . . .

I ran my usual morning errands and was headed home, pulling in the driveway just about 9:00 a.m. The garage door had opened and I was just nosing in when I heard the familiar: boom, boom. The shuttle had broken the sound barrier.

I unpacked the car, opened the door into the house and there was the 9TS with a concerned look on his face. "What did you hit now?"

Snicker, snicker. Gotta love him!!!

it came . . .

and then it went!!!

My brand new Mac arrived while we were out. Oh my!!!! According to the note left on the door, my sweet baby would be mine come 6:15 p.m. should I desire to pick it up at the FedEx depot and not wait for their second delivery attempt Tuesday morning. A no brainer.

OK, so I was excited and arrived a tad early at 6:00. The manager on duty grabbed my notice, clicked on a few buttons, glared at me and announced my bundle would drop down the chimney at precisely 6:15, as stated . . . not one minute before!

Come 6:20 I ask again. She glares at me and says: They will bring it out when it arrives.

6:30 is closing time. Just as she was getting ready to lock the doors, trapping me for all eternity, some guy wanders in with five wooden coils of water ski tow rope. Yep! And each to a different address. The MOD was clearly as unhappy with his arrival as she was about my lack of departure. She grumbled her way, not so pleasantly through his packages . . . he tacitly ignoring her.

6:45 He is done and I am still standing there waiting for the stork, while Ms. Congeniality stomps her way through her closing procedures. At 6:59, one of the drivers finally wanders in with my bundle of joy. I flash my I.D., do a snatch and run and bolt for the door . . . her heave of repugnance following me all the way to my car.

By the time I got home it was well after 7:00 and the 9TS had a rumbling tummy. I knew I had to feed him before I dove into the swaddled package of goodness.

7:42 I grab my baby . . . one of the male variety . . . cut the umbilical cord and life starts anew.

Note: This post is brought to you via my sexy, fully grown, Mac Book Pro aka MacSteamy!

the call . . .

I keep locking the gates, pulling up the draw bridge and turning off the lights but it seems Mel and Anoma Metastatic have found a secret tunnel to the castle. They were back. Were being the operative word. They are no longer. They have once more been banished and the 9TS is cancer free . . . again.

I am going to check the fort from bastion to basement until I find their little hidey hole. I am going to fill the teeniest little cracks and crevices with super glue and be damned if those little bastards will be welcome in my world again. SO THERE!!!!

p.s. I apologize for the not so nice words but they are not so nice little cancer cells.

He shows . . .

Credits: Dawn Inskip - Rainy Days and Mondays kit.

I had to use this kit quickly because I bought her new one and the rule is . . . use the old before downloading a new. Sigh.

hoot! hoot!

I was reading Karenika's blog this morning and I come across this little nugget of information.

"So, if you remember, I got a new Macbook Pro about ten days ago or so. This morning I wake up to an ad-email from Apple that tells me they just came out with new Macbook Pros. These are orders of magnitude better with a much nicer processor, more battery life, cheaper(!), and a better graphics card. Ordinarily, I would panic. But, instead, I patiently wait until the store opens, talk to the manager, call back 3 times and get exactly what I had hoped for: I got to exchange my computer for the new one . . ."

So I look at the Apple home page and yep, there they are the new upgraded Macbook Pros. My fingers flew to my phone since my replacement mac had not yet been shipped and the guy tells me they just got the OK to build it and it will be the newer version with my specifications. HOOT!!! HOOT!!!!

And not one stinkin' three hour call to India. I think I am in love!!!!

And now a word about Karenika who probably thinks I am stalking her at this point. I found her blog through the JS board because she offers wonderful digi freebies every Thursday, but I got sucked in by her photography and her willingness to share her knowledge via videos. And to top it off, you get to see the face of THE sweetest little 9 month old. Check it out.

let's just tell it like it is . . .

Credits: Font: FFF Tusj, Date Stamp, Staples: Dawn Inskip

guess who sent me . . .

these absolutely gorgeous flowers! The card simply read: "I love you". No signature.

He wanted to say he was sorry for being a pain in the bottom. Now let's see . . . . He has major surgery and he is the pain? What is wrong with this picture. He's a definite keeper.



and I am a sucker for baby's breath.

sigh . . .

my mac is back in its box and ready for Fedex to come pick it up. Sigh.

The color calibration is so off, everything and everyone looked jaundiced. Sigh.

They could not fix it. Sigh.

It would not load CS4 Photoshop or Illustrator. Sigh.

It's replacement is on its way!!! Smile.

and all without one single call to India. Life is good.

I've fallen down the rabbit hole . . .

called Mac! Like Alice, I find myself in a foreign land, wandering around lost and alone. Well not totally alone, the Cheshire Cat is grinning her smug little, left behind smirk because I didn't know how to get on the net. Problem solved. So there cat!

I feel somewhat dyslexic!! Who stole the backspace key? I mean seriously are missing keys like missing socks. Lost and wandering in some alternate universe, hidden from view . . . permanently? Where is the CTRL key? Where is the road map?

Stickies are fun!

I'm sure if I make too much of a mess, I can just move down to the next place setting and start all over again. In the meantime, it is rather fun in wonderland, exploring all the possibilities.

I'm just not sure which pill to take next . . .

dork moment 2963 . . .

The toll free number for Fedex is 800-463-3339.

Not 800-463-9993.

Nuff said!!!!

it's a drop dead . . .

gorgeous day in the neighborhood. A perfect day to go running around town with the top down which is what I will be doing as soon as I drag my sewer rat smelling body into the tub . . . because is was also a perfect day to clean gutters.

It's also a good news day:

I'm actually getting a refund this year for the first time in a gazillion years!

My new wide format printer arrived and will be paid for by said refund.

My mac has been shipped! Yep, I am making the leap.

I had an absolutely perfect tomato/chicken Caesar tucked in a tomato basil wrap.

There is a rather large brown bear tucked in under my arm, snoring softly.

Now really folks, does life get any better?

doing a happy dance . . .

I always love to learn something new and one of the girls on the JS board did this wonderful layout changing a portrait to text. Since she mentioned the tutorial was by Gavin Hoey, I hit trusty YouTube and found it.



It took me more than a few times, not being the brightest crayon in the pack, but how stinkin' cool is this. Of course then she took it one step further and instead of using a font, she used a brush of butterflies. AWESOME. Can't wait to play some more . . .

home again, home again . . .

jiggity jog! And so happy to be so.

We left behind another part of the 9TS for his clone but he is doing quite well without it, thank you very much. Katie kept me company while the 9TS was running his nurses ragged. We annoyed the heck out of him on a full time basis in the hospital. I think he was glad to see us go each evening.

Finally they decreed him discharged. We absconded with him before anyone could change their mind.

Life is once again good!!!!

yesterday . . .

the 9TS had his pre-op work done. Among the procedures was an EKG. As relayed to me, the woman hooked him up and ran the test. When it was finished, the following conversation took place:

Nurse: You have a pacemaker?

9TS: no.

Nurse: You HAVE a pacemaker!!!

9TS: no. no I don't

. . . . nurse leaves to get another nurse . . . .

Second nurse: You HAVE a pacemaker!!

9TS: NO, I DO NOT!!!

Nurse one: Do you have a relative with you that can verify this, thinking somehow the 9TS had forgotten he had a pacemaker.

9TS: My wife is in the lobby.

Nurse Three after rerunning the test: Sir, you don't have pacemaker. Sorry.

They never had a chance arguing with the 9TS. Not a ghost of a chance.