Halloween For Mel

Happy Halloween Everyone!  It's that time of year when we take a look back at all the freaks who came before us.  This year's post has a theme:  Freaky A$$ Pumpkins.

 We begin our journey with this young man who appears to be wearing lipstick.  (Ruby Red?)  He doesn't seem to notice the strange light emitting from the pumpkin's mouth, or the ghost creeping up behind him.  I can almost understand that, but how in the world is he missing that strange little cat with the large head and tiny body?

 We then move on to what looks to be rather dumb witch checking out the heart nosed pumpkin.  What is it with these pumpkins having strange mists erupting from their insides?  And, did this pumpkin see an orthodontist, because his teeth are awfully straight.

 Let's stand inside a pumpkin and make out!  Yeah!  

And, these creepy looking dudes can dance around us.  Yeah!

Not only is that the ugliest looking kid I've ever seen, but feathers on a pumpkin?

I sure would be hating to sit down to dinner with this guy as the centerpiece.  Not only does he have that strange stuff rising from his innards, but he has witches and devils flying around his head.  And, is he covering up a cake?  Don't even get me started on the teeth...

*******************************************

This post is dedicated to my dear friend, Mel.  Mel loves these holiday posts.  She and her family were hit hard by Hurricane Sandy.  This is just my way of telling her that she is in my thoughts and prayers.  Love you Mel.

Trees and Wine

We went painting again. 

This time, it was Sir, myself, Taylor and three of my work buddies.

This time, it was on a Friday night.

This time, I Designed while I Wined.

And, this time, I don't really like my picture all that much. 

It's not that I don't  like it, I just got carried away with swirls and dots.  I love me some swirls and dots.

These things are so much fun.  Everyone is having a good time.  Most people are drinking wine.

 

Some drink more wine than others...

I love seeing everyone concentrate so hard on their paintings.  And, I think we never get over that desire to get a good grade, so we try to do our best and get that elusive "A+." 

After a couple hours and a bottle of wine, all of a sudden, you have a work of art.  Amazing!  And, as any real artist would do, you sign your creation.  Meggan is giving hers to her baby boy.  I love her signature:

 

I introduce you to Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir, Klee,  Picasso and Salvador Dali:

Yes, I had to ask SS for help with the names.

Goose Creek, We Have a Problem

I

just

realized

that I am

addicted

to

STRIPES.

Dear Jake and Taylor

Yesterday, as I was driving to Columbia, I started thinking about the things we say to and try to teach our children over the course of their lives.  I wonder how much they actually retain?

With the idea that there are so many distractions in this world, I’m going to write a few of them down.  It makes me feel better as a mom.  Please add to the list in your comments.

Dear Jake and Taylor:

If there is an RSVP on an invitation, be kind enough to respond.
Be kind to, and listen to the elderly.  They have much to share.
Write thank you notes.
Remember birthdays.
Say please and thank you.
Read.  Read.  Read.
Listen to music whenever possible.
Don’t let the bed bugs bite.
Say, “I love you,” as often as possible.
Don’t say it unless you mean it.
Honor your commitments.
Be a good sport.
Use coasters!
The toilet paper goes OVER not under.
Adopt your pets from the local shelter.
I will always love you. 
You always have a home with me.
You are never alone.
Travel.
When you do travel, send a postcard to yourself.
Love deeply.
Spend a lot of time laughing.
Carve pumpkins.
Spend time with your family.
Get to know your cousins.
Share the wealth.
When you move to a new town, the first thing to find is a good butcher.  (Grandma Rosie’s advice)
Be kind to others. 
Be kind to yourself.
Don’t judge a person on race, color or creed. 
Stand up for your beliefs.
Call your mother.

xxx

Mid Week Mute

Bike Adventures

I have not had much luck when it comes to bike riding.

When I was little and on my tricycle, the neighbor lady backed up into me.  My mom watched it all from the kitchen window.  Obviously, not too much damage was done. 

When I was about twelve, I had ridden my bike to D&H Drugstore.  I remember I bought these yellow barrettes for my hair.  On my way back, I went to make  left hand turn into my neighborhood.  As I turned, a car came over the hill, hit me,and knocked me off my bike.  Again, I was fine, but for a bruised thigh and some serious fright.  I'm sure the man that hit me was more shook up than I was.

I had plenty of falls and scrapes and cuts, but the worst thing that happened was when I was six.  Back then, bikes had fenders.  I was sitting on the fender and my foot got caught in the bicycle spoke.  I don't remember who was driving the bike,and luckily, I don't remember the pain.  But, I do remember exactly where it happened, and Mr. Rahn coming out and carrying me back to my house.

I remember the smell of the medicine they put on my ankle. 

I remember sitting in the doctor's office wondering if I was in trouble.  (always a guilt complex)

I remember missing three weeks of first grade. (Bonus!)

And, even if I wanted to forget, I have a lovely reminder on the inside of my ankle.  It's actually a burn from the rubber of the tire.  It is still sensitive to touch, and I'm sure that ankle is weaker than the right one.   I could have been a great model if not for that scar.  And the fact that I'm 5'3. Oh, and maybe the fluffiness is holding me back.....

So, for me to go out and ride a bike again feels like a huge accomplishment.  Granted, I'm not riding on roads, going to the drugstore, or riding double on someone else's bike.  And, I'm probably too old for yellow barrettes anyway. 

But, oh, I hope I don't find out how it feels to fall at forty-nine.

Friday Randoms

Some of the thoughts traveling through my fried brain cells as I watch the St.Louis Cardinals game...

MAN, I wish I were in St. Louis right now.

Taylor is in St. Louis with a friend.  They drove there on their own, and are attending a music festival.  I'm so proud that I've raised a woman who feels confident enough to drive halfway across the country for something that really matters to her.

I am also pea green with envy that she is in St. Louis.

We are going to St. Louis for Thanksgiving.  I. CAN'T. WAIT.

I've developed a love affair with green olives stuffed with garlic cloves.

I finished a very sweet book Wednesday night.  I highly recommend Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter. 

Jess Walter is a dude.

I love the word,"dude."

I've ridden my bike twice now.  I realize I have extremely weak ankles.  Isn't that what old ladies have?

I'm still dieting. I've resigned myself to the fact that this will be an ongoing process. My next special day will be Thanksgiving. Watch out stuffing.  I'm coming for you.

Glad Dmitri won on Project Runway.  I liked his bracelets.  Of course, I like Fabio's strange little necklace too.

If you put me on, "Chopped," I'd have no idea what to do with the basket ingredients.  They'd get an omelet every time.

67 Days until Christmas. Crap.

I love the sounds I hear in my backyard.  Bugs. Birds. Squirrels. I just hope they're not talking about me.

Not that I'm paranoid.

Three things I like:  Crime TV, red onions and Show Tunes.

I change the channel when the game doesn't go my way.

I like black boots.

Have you seen this horrible show, "Live Jewelry Auctions?" OMG.  It's like a train wreck.  I can't look away.

Ugh.  Cardinals let in 3 runs.

Happy Friday to all of us!  See you on the flip side.

Mid Week Mute

Big, Blue and Shiny

I loathe exercising.

It's not so much the exercising, as it is the sweating, the red face, the sweating....

But, I've got to do something to kick start this weight loss healthy living thing I've got going.   So, yesterday, I bought a bike.  A big, blue, shiny bike.

AND I rode it.

Sir and I both have shiny new bicycles and we are just too kool for skool.  We took a ride up to the park and around the neighborhoods.  I did break a bit of a sweat and I felt it in my thighs.

BUT---

I didn't hate it.

So, I figure that's a start.  Baby steps.  Or, maybe it's baby pedals.  Or something like that.

I have a lot of bike stories from my past (hint:  in the car v. bike war, I lost.  TWICE) but I'll save that for another day.  For, now, I'm going to look up "bike accessories."  Because you know what Clairee says, "The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize."

*********************************

One of the best things about blogging is making friends through Cyber Land.  I love my blogging buddies, and feel so blessed to have had the chance to meet a few of them.  Tonight, I had the pleasure of meeting and dining with  Grandma K.  She and her husband were traveling on the East Coast (they live in Texas) and they detoured through Charleston so we were able to get a chance to meet.  She is warm, friendly, and so very loving.  What a treat for me to spend the evening with her and George.

I hope that I will get to meet all my blogging buddies sooner or later!  Hey, maybe I'll ride my bike to come see you?

Whew! What a Great Week!

My birthday fell on Wednesday of this week.  For the last seven days, I've been celebrating in one form or another.  I could get used to this, let me tell you!

I feel so darn loved.  That's been the best part of my birthday, having so many wonderful people remember me and wish me happiness.

Sir showered me with lots of Missouri goodies and 49 tulips.  I'm so old now, that my flowers don't fit into one vase, they need two!!

I've had some great sushi, won at Bingo, had lunch bought for me from coworkers, and a snack day to enjoy with the other October birthday gals. I'm proud of myself for not over indulging, but still enjoying the treats of the week.  (no cake this year, but I'm fine with that!)

It's great to get that birthday card (with a check enclosed!) from my grandmother.  I mean, hello, I'm 49 years old and still getting cards from Grandma Miki. 

With that check, I bought myself something bright, blue and shiny.  I can't wait to tell you about it in my next post.

But, for now, I have to go get ready for the last celebration of the week, And after that, begins the countdown to 50.  Holy Moly.  

Definitions By The Ju

The definition of  SUCK:

You diet for 49 days, only to have your obgyn say to you, "we're overweight aren't we."

Then you have to point out to her that you've lost weight since last year.

That's okay.  I got her back.  Guess who was gassy.

46 Days

One of the (many) reasons I'm fat is because I LOVE pasta. I love noodles and a nice fattening cream sauce.  Don't give me any of that healthy red sauce, I like mine creamy and rich.  Sir and I would have cheese filled raviolis with Alfredo sauce at least once a week.  It was a staple in our diet.

I started dieting August 21, and up until last night, hadn't had any pasta of any kind.  That is 46 days without pasta.  FORTY SIX DAYS.

A couple weeks ago, Sir offered to make dinner for me to celebrate my upcoming birthday.  He makes a dish called, "Angry Pasta."  I don't know why the Angry is in the name, it makes me anything but.

So, for the past week, I've been so excited to have Mike, Tracy and Taylor over for dinner, and to eat the PASTA that I had been living without for FORTY SIX DAYS.

One of the reasons I love Pasta so much is because it goes so well with my other favorite food:  BREAD.  Bread is another thing I've been avoiding of late.  And, of course, if you're eating Italian, you must have an antipasto plate.  So, we have pasta, bread, salami, prosciutto, olives, mozzarella cheese and lots of garlic.

Did I mention the wine?  Wine also goes well with pasta, bread, antipasto, friends and family.

I don't have any idea why I've developed this new weird smile.

Can you see the red table in the background?  Sir painted that for me and I love love love it.  It's been an icky brown color for years and I love the pop of color it provides the otherwise black and white room.  Thanks Dear!

The only other thing needed to make it a perfect evening?  What goes well with pasta, bread, wine, friends and family?

Why, presents of course!

John Moseley

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had a crush on someone.  I think my very first crush was on David Cassidy.  I was in his fan club at the ripe age of six.  That shag haircut made me go crazzzzy.

Over the years, there was Jimmy Connors, Robert Redford, Sylvester Stallone (during Rocky days only), Michael Jackson (before surgeries), Michael Jordan, Dave Matthews and Robert Redford.  Again.

There was also a young man named John Moseley.  The year was 1973 and I was living in Columbia, Missouri.  My dad was a coach at the University of Missouri.  He looked like this:

Dick is on the second row, second from the left.

John Moseley was a defensive back, and walked on the team; no recruitment, no scholarship.  He was a little guy, but played like a big guy.  That year, he became an All American, mostly on the strength of his punt returns.  (And his heart!)  He had red hair and freckles and was literally the personification of good Midwestern boy.

And I thought he was the cat’s meow.  I was nine years old and couldn’t get enough of him.  I had his pictures on my wall, and can remember a calendar next to my bed with his face all over it.  I cheered for him at the Missouri games and held my breath when he would touch the ball.  I surely didn’t want him to get hurt!!

On my tenth birthday, my dad came home after I was in bed asleep.  He woke me up and brought me out to a surprise in the living room.  It was John Moseley there to wish me a Happy Birthday!  Can you imagine?  I don’t think I even had time to process the fact that I had just crawled out of bed, and no doubt looked like I had just crawled out of bed. 

That season, the Tigers went to the Sun Bowl.  Back in the day, the schools would take the coaches families with them on the trips.  It was a treat to be involved in that group, and to be included in such a momentous time.  But the best part?  I got to sit next to John Moseley on the plane when we left El Paso.  A DREAM come true.  Granted, he slept most of the way back to Missouri, but still!!

These memories are still some of my favorites.  How nice of my dad to make this all happen, and how nice of John Moseley to cooperate.  As my birthday approaches, I’m reminded of one of my happiest.

*************

UPDATE: My sister-in-law texted me the other night:

    Just saw an old heartthrob of yours and mine.

As soon as I read this, I knew who it was.  John Moseley, in the flesh.  He still lives in Columbia, and ran into my brother and his family at Shakespeare’s Pizza.  (Which, by the way, is one of the best pizza places ever) JM must be pushing sixty now.  My SIL says he still looks good, still athletic looking. 

He didn’t ask about me though.  Sigh.  Oh John Moseley.