Z is for Pretty Zygomatic Bones



This is the zygomatic bone. I have pretty ones.This picture is from Grey's Anatomy and therefore in the
public domain, howeverm, here is the source I found it at

According to Dictionary.com a zygomatic bone is "a bone on each side of the face below the eye, forming the prominence of the cheek." According to my 8th grade crush, I have pretty ones.

I was that scary stalker girl in junior high. At least, some might classify me as such. Our school had only 400 student and that was counting from kindergarten through the senior class. The junior high and high school were in the same building. All but four of the classrooms were located in one small hallway. The size and set up of the school made it easy to know almost everyone's class schedule, if you tried. It also meant that whether or not I may or may not have been lingering outside my crush's classroom door, it always appeared this way. There was only one hallway and my locker was in the middle of it!

This particular girlhood crush was in 10th grade while I struggled through eighth. (I have always like older men. My first ever obsession was Prince William and he's three years my senior.) I have one very clear memory of the boy who thought I possessed lovely cheekbones: the day he told me he didn't like me like that.

This young man sought me out between 6th and 7th period, the last two classes of the day, and took my by the shoulders and looked at me eye to eye. This is important to note. He was already near or over six feet and I hadn't even hit five feet yet. (Today I am only 1/4 inch over 5 feet.) His momma must of have raised him right because he spoke very gently and wanted to make sure that I was going to be okay. He said to me, "I am flattered that you like me, you have very nice cheekbones, but I have a girl friend and I don't like you in that way." I managed not to cry in front of him. I may have cried during band (my last class of the day) and I'm pretty sure I cried on the hour long bus ride home. I KNOW I cried once I was safely in my room. My best friend kept trying to console me, telling me that at least he thought I had pretty cheekbones.

I texted my friend today to ask if she remebered this emotionally tough moment of my early teens. She said "Yes! That was so odd but sweet." Here's to my pretty zygomatic bones! I hope now that I am older they can be called sexy!

Y is for Young People Taking Over My Bar

I realize 27 is not that old. However, the bar that I do karaoke at on the weekends, normally has a population old enough to be my parents. This is good for me. They appreciate when I sing older songs, and they're much more fun to hang out with. For me anyway.
Let me explain. Is 6 weeks I have not attended karaoke, the population has gone from 40 + to 21 and 22; my sister-in-law, B, is one of these. But, when I am in a bar surrounded by 21 and 22 year olds, I feel like they are children. In some ways they are.
The crowd of people there now cannot relate to me in the same way someone who is been through my stage of life can. Younger people want to get drunk and have fun; I want to relax and have a moment away from my children.
Also, 21 and 22 year olds who can eat whatever they want, drink whatever they want, and have a size 0 waste it is disheartening. Yes, I have had kids and I should be happy with my body image. Most of the time I am, but every once in awhile it really sucks to not be in a size 4.
Did I mention that it changes the whole energy of the bar. Now I don't feel like I belong. Instead of being the young fresh face, I am now just an older person with nothing to contribute to the party. I'd like to think that at 21 and 22 I realized that people close to or over 30 could be just as much fun as my peers. Actually, I did know that; when I was 21 I was marrying my husband and he was 27.
The change of the age group at my bar will not stop me from going karaoke; I need the night out every once in awhile. I just wish I could have my old friends back. Pun completely intended.

X Words

I read the entire X section of the dictionary. I learned some interesting things

•Xanthine is a chemical compound that aids in the break down of nucleic acid into uric acid. Uric acid is the cause of gout flare ups and is found in urine. Since xanthine comes from the Latin for yellow,I assume it's what causes pee to be yellow. Also, caffeine is derived from xanthine. Maybe that's why caffeine is a diuretic that makes you pee alot. I feel smart.

•The pigment in leaves that makes them yellow and brown in the fall is called xanthophylll.

•A xebec is a small, three-masted Mediterranean sailing ship.

•Xenia, OH is a small industrial town in southwestern Ohio. Population 24,664.
•The study of aliens is xenology. Yep, real thing, though mostly xenology happens in sci-fi movies and books.

•A xenophile is someone attracted to forgien peoples, manners, or cultures. My name is Brea and I am a xenophile. There is something yummy about British and Irish men. 



Source: USGS
 http://www.werc.usgs.gov/fieldguide/xela.htm



•A xenopus is an African clawed toad. They were(are?) used as a low-tech test for pregnancy. Apparently, something (Hcg) in a pregnant woman's pee makes them produce eggs.

•The monetary unit of Vietnam is the xu. Useful knowledge for Scrabble.

•The art of making woodcuts or engravings via a relatively primitive method is called xylography.

Now, don't you feel a little smarter?

W is for Weekend in the Country.

Last weekend, we spent the weekend at my sister-in -laws, in the country. We were celebrating her husband's 27th birthday. ( I am exactly 13 days older than he is.)
The boys, there were about 12 of them, spent all day Saturday in a paintball war. L and I stayed in the shade playing Scattergories. After dark, we all met out front for a large bonfire.
JZ decided he wanted a keg for his birthday this year. The keg was kept cool in a steel drum that was originally purposed for lemon juice from concentrate.
Around 10 o'clock at night, after L had gone to bed, the boys decided to have a paintball hunt in the dark. I wanted to participate but Larch talked me out of it. Instead, I was the paintball equivalent of WACs. Okay not really. It was my job to refill ammo and air cans when the guys ran out. It was actually quite exciting.
The next morning, most everyone had gone home. Only family was left. Larch, B and JZ decided they were too tired to havens another war. They declared war on the mud swallows instead. While these birds can be pretty, they really are just pests. They build their nests in your eaves, leaving their crap all over your porch. It is not so easy to hit a mud swallow with a paintball. However, it is not impossible. In the course of 6 hours,the boys took out 2. I think they feel they have invented a new sport.

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V is for Voyeurism

Voyeurism is one of those things we freak out about as single women and laugh about in the changing rooms at Wal-Mart. Until you are a victim.

I wasn't video taped or photographed, I was spied on. It was very disturbing.

Last summer, one night when Larch was staying over at a friends house, I woke up to find a stranger at my window.

The window was open, as well as the blinds to let in the cool night air.I don't remember anything specifically waking me up. I just opened my eyes and heard someone at the window. At first, I thought it was Larch, trying to scare me or something. Then, I realized the man outside my window was mumbling in Spanish. In lewd tones.And I could hear him, you know...

I was surprisingly calm. As soon as he took off, I grabbed the 12 gauge and called the cops. Then I freaked out because my husband and my dad both, weren't answering their phones. I turned on all the lights and smoked in the living room. Yep. In the house. I wasn't about to step outside.

I'm fine now, but it took me a few weeks before I would let my husband touch me, and a few more before I could change clothes somewhere other than the bathroom. I honestly wouldn't wish the experience on my worst enemy. And I hope the guy doesn't come back this summer, I've learned to shoot that gun now.

Ten Things Tuesday -- U is for Um

Ten words that start with U
1. Ukulele
2. Ulcer
3. Unicycle
4. Umbrella
5. Undercurrent

6. Ugly
7. Umpteenth
8. Undulating
9. Union
10. Used
Ha! No un- words and no help from the dictionary. I feel smart. And sort of pathetic.

T is for Till Death Do Us Part

Actual (albeit slightly intoxicated) conversation between my husband and I.
Me: You have short thumbs.
Larch: Long enough to strangle you with.
Me: Not funny.
Larch: They are.
Me: Well, I could cut your nuts off while you sleep.
Larch: Really?
Me: Actually, it would be better to seduce you and then cut off all your junk so you could bleed to death.
Larch: Not before I could kick your ass.
Me: Yeah, but I would be alive. You would bleed to death.
Larch: You might be bleeding to death also.
Me: This is a weird conversation.
**********
I decided later only happily and securely married couples have these kinds of conversations. And then only the really weird couples.

S is for Stain Removal

I often tell my friends and family I am the laundry stain removal queen.  I may be exaggerating a bit, but I'm pretty good at getting stains out of clothes. I have only found one or two stains stubborn enough I had to toss the garment.

I thought today, I might share some tips for getting tough spots out.

First things first; go buy some Borax and some Fels-Naptha. Borax costs four of five dollars and one bar of Fels-Naptha is less than a dollar at Wal-Mart.

Borax is an all natural laundry booster that has been around for 4,000 years. No, really. It's a mineral made up of sodium, boron, oxygen and water. It works like Oxy-Clean only better.

Fels-Naptha is a 100 year old stain remover and pre-treater. I swear by the stuff.

I add a little Borax to every load, unless I am bleaching our socks and undergarments. I treat every stain with Fels-Naptha.

To treat a stain with Fels-Naptha, get the garment wet and then rub the stain with the bar. Let the item sit for one to three minutes and then launder as usual. Do not use laundry bar soap on soda stains. I don't know why, but I'm not willing to find out.

There are a few stains that can be a bit tricky. I have special tricks for those.

Dry erase marker is a real pain. If you spray it with a main-line pre-treater, the stain will set and be there forever. I've been trying for a year to get dry erase ink out of a pair of pants my son doesn't even fit into anymore. However, Fels-Naptha will take it out in one or two washes. Just don't dry it between washes if it doesn't come out the first time.

Oil and grease stains seem to be rather stubborn also. Pre-treat the stain with a tiny bit of liquid dish soap. Not too much or you will over suds your washer. You can combine the dish soap with Fels-Naptha for extremely difficult grease stains.

Most people assume hair dye will not come out. They are only partially right. Sometimes, hair dye is there for good. I manage to remove stray dye drips by rinsing the spot with water and then spraying liberally with hairspray. If the stain did not come out in the first wash, I try more hair spray and Fels-Naptha. If the stain has lightened considerably by then, I try hair spray and Fels again, or, if they item is white, bleach. If the stain hasn't faded at all by the third wash, it's time to give up.

Finally, blood. Bloodstains are actually very easy to remove. Rinse the spot with 3% hydrogen-peroxide and then launder as usual. You can pre-treat after the peroxide treatment if you wish.

Good luck with your stains.

The Dial Corporation, owner of the Borax and Fels-Naptha's brands did not compensate me in any way, shape, or form for this post. I did not receive money or free product. I honest to goodness use these products in my home everyday. If, however, a representative of the Dial Corporation reads this and would like to compensate me, feel free to shoot me an email.

R is for Roses

My favorite flowers are Lilies. This is probably because I named my daughter Lily. My daughter is also the reason I have a giant waterlily tattooed on my back, even if it does look like a lotus flower. Once upon a time, however, roses were my absolute favorite.

Gramps, my paternal grandfather, has been growing beautiful roses for as long as I can remember. I'm not just saying that because it's been a long time; I really cannot remember a time in my life when he was not growing roses in  his backyard. 

When we all lived in the Seattle area (the first 11 years of my life), Gramps' entire backyard was a stunning garden. There was a large deck that my dad built over an aggregate patio (this is the same aggregate patio I drug my sister across while "helping" her learn to walk), a small patch of grass, a sparsely wooded area (that grew into thicker woods if you crossed the fence), graveled paths, flowers, and roses.

From the deck, there were two paths to get up into the terraced garden/wooded area. One gently slopped up right in front of the roses. The other started at the top of a very short set of steps by the dog kennels. Star, the mommy German Shorthair, would always bark very loudly walked near the kennel. To a young child, it was very scary and mean sounding. When we took this path, we ran.

The roses were all planted in one large square bed. As a child I was sure Gramps had every color of rose possible. There was even a very light purple that looked almost blue. This one was my favorite. That's probably why I remember it being in the front row, but that may just be where I’ve placed in my mind. I'm old enough now to know that he did not have a large enough lot to grow every possible color.

There were three things my sister and I loved to do in the rose garden: smell the roses, help Gramps cut blooms, and chase the garter snakes. There were two garter snakes that slithered the paths of the garden. Realistically, there were probably more, but we had only ever seen two at once. I blame these snakes for my current desire to own a snake as a pet. Larch keeps telling me no.

Last year for Mother's Day, my children gave me a purple rose bush.  We planted it in the planter box they had made the year before. They should have learned, or at least my husband should have learned, that I cannot keep plants alive. I remember thinking I should call Gramps for advice on keeping the rose alive. I might have called him, but with two kids under 5, I just can't remember. It hasn't sprouted leaves yet this year, but then our maple tree just grew buds this week. I hope it comes back. Perhaps, lilies are not my favorite after all; maybe, I am still in love with roses.

Q is for Quagmire

These are the words my 4 year old son has informed me start with q:
Quilt, queen, crown and quack.

3 out of 4 ain't bad.

On another note, am I the only one who just realized that Glen Quagmire from Family Guy has the initials GQ like the magazine?

P is for Park Politics

Some people in my town wants to take A large sum of taxpayer dollars to redo the park next to the library where my kids play after story time. This might not be a bad thing, except the plan will
take out thecentrally located boat launch and replace them with a giant water feature, a three level parking garage  a Grand Plaza courtyard to host markets and public art, and a walking path and steps down to the water. Our town is a tourist town built on a lake. It sounds like a great idea to take out the small beach the local's use and move the boat launch into a residential area. Let's let the out of towners with a sense of entitlement take over the beach we visit to get away from them.

They also want to take out the baseball field and put in a green pavilion, with a stage at its south end. a pavilion, Americans with Disability Act (ADA) compatible kids play land, and splash pad.They want to add more open green space, and tennis, pickle ball courts, a bocce ball field and skate park.Oh and an off-leash dog park

Some of these changes would be awesome. An ADA compatible play area for kids with a splash pad, yes please.  A pavillion with a stage, might be nice. A grand plaza would make traffic less confusing on Wednesday's with the farmers market. The  tennis and pickle ball courts, not so much, we have a community center and other parks for that. Let the adults go there, leave my son a place to play ball. The bocce ball field, might appeal to tourists, and some locals. I think horseshoe pits would get more use. And the skate park? We have one on the other side of downtown. I hate to stereotype, but I would rather not have teenaged punks and 20 something slackers hanging out right near the place my kids go to play.

Come of the people in my town are asking for you recall of the mayor and 4 out of 7 city council members. I was at the park in question last night and was shocked by the parents with a sign on their stroller saying decline to sign don't give into the recall. Didn't realize they're playing in the exact spot thier son would not be able to play baseball in 4 or 5 years from now?

In another type of politic's at the park, the other mothers at the park were looking at me something was wrong with me for letting my son play war or zombies. I calmly explained my 4-year-old that you can't play those games at the park because it scares the other mommies. I feel I have the right to mess up my kids however I see fit, don't judge me first-time-mom-who-hovers-so-close-her-kid-can't-go-down-the-slide-becasue-he-might-get-hurt. Lighten up a little. My kids are still alive, even if they have a few scars and bruises.

Ten Things Tuesday--O is for Occupational Hazards of Motherhood

1. Your hair, face, and clothes will get covered in bodily fluids, and possibly stuff you can't identify.

2. A Growing Waistline. This can be avoided, but don't ask me how.

3. Fatigue. The sleeplessness does not end when they start sleeping through the night, it just takes a vacation until nightmare season.

4. Inability to Concentrate. My theory is that they ate my brain while I was incubating.

5. You will experience the loss of a sex-life. The libido doesn't die, you just don't have the energy. Or time.

6. Your social life will change. I was gonna say suffer, but it just changes. Your friends are the other moms. You hang out while your kids play at the park. You don't really talk, you just drink your coffee on the same bench.

7. Modesty is not an option. From the moment you step into the delivery room, nothing about your body is safe. Just try to take a shower or go to the bathroom without company. I guess you could lock the door, but then they just scream.

8. Free Time. It does not exist.

9. Lack of Funds. Everything you make will get poured into your children. From diapers, to toys, to new shoes and clothes. And don't forget food.

10. Inexplicable Joy. Even when you are the angriest you have ever been, chances are they will do something to melt your heart and make you love life so much you can't imagine life without them.

N is for Never Alone

Sometimes, when I get overwhelmed, I feel like no one is on my side. I feel so utterly trapped inside my own head and my own malfunctioning emotions that it seem everyone who cares about me and loves me, hads abandon me.

I know this is not true. My husband, the rest of my family, many of my friends will always be there for me. They care deeply about me and want the best for me. More importantly, I know God will never leave me, even if the world was ending. He loves me more completely than any human possibly can. Knowing this, however, does not stop the desperate feeling of hopelessness.

One of the coping skills I am learning to use through  DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) is to self-soothe when dealing with intense emotions. Since music has always been a huge part of my life, it makes sense to use this as one of my methods for soothing myself.  I have a playlist titled SOOTHE on my phone for just such situations. The first song on the list is Never Alone by BarlowGirl. It reminds me that no matter how alone and abandon I feel, God, at least, is always there. With Him, I am never alone.

M is for Mac and Cheese.

You know you are a mother of preschoolers when you eat one of three things for lunch every day: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chicken nuggets, or mac and cheese.

We eat a lot of mac and cheese in our house. Lily asks for it by name. Johnny wants hot dogs in his. I add either pepper or chili powder to mine, just to make it less bland. We buy the stuff in the blue box, but I also make mac and cheese from scratch on occasion.

When we make the blue box stuff, Johnny wants to help. In fact, he cries if I don't tell him it's time to add the butter, milk, and cheese powder. He wants to pour everything in and stir it all up. When I make the scratch kind, it means my niece is over.

I prefer the taste of the stuff I make with elbow noodles, milk, and melted Velveeta, but I love the speed and ease of making the stuff in the box.

What kind of mac and cheese do you make? How do you make it more palatable for your adult tastes?

L is for Love Languages

I am a very odd duck. Instead of reading in the winter when it's cold and smart people are curled up inside, I read in the summer. Ninety percent of my reading gets done between April and September. While my family is playing outside or camping or fishing, I am sitting in the sun, reading.

I just finished reading The Five Love Languages by Gary Champan Wednesday night. (Actually it was Thursday morning). I would definitely recommend this book. There are several different versions: there is the original (meant for couples), the men's edition (so that your husband might actually read it,maybe), the Love Languages of Children, of Teenages, for Singles, and about a bazillion others.

The basic concept is that everyone in the whole world expresses love in one of 5 ways. Kind of like if the whole world only spoke English, Russian, Chinese,Arabic, or not some random African Language. There are lots of dialects within the love languages. Most people "hear" love best in one way over the other four. Knowing this, you can better love your spouse by speaking their love language.

Now that you are already confused, lets look at the 5 languages. They are: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Acts of Service, Gifts, and Physical Touch.

Words of affirmation are spoken. It's saying things to your loved one. Things like, "I love you," or "I'm proud of you," or "you do that really well," or even "you look hot."

Quality Time can be anything from going out to dinner, going on a hike, just sitting and talking or playing board games. The point of quality time is to spend time with your loved one, giving them your full attention and energy.

Acts of Service is doing stuff for people. Most often in marriage, in my opinion anyway, this amounts to doing stuff around the house. Stuff like taking out the garbage, or cooking, or vacuuming. This could also mean getting up to get your mom a glass of ice tea because she prefaced her request with "how much do you love me?" (True story. My mom did that to my sister and I growing up. I tried this with Johnny and he was like "I love you mom, but not if you want me to get you that piece of bread." He's really smart for four years old).

Gifts is sort of obvious. But gifts don't have to be expensive or store bought or even things. Dr. Chapman talked about giving the gift of your presence. This is like when, even though it was a pain and he didn't want to, my husband flew to New Mexico for just under 48 hours to be with me at my family reunion. I wanted him there; it meant a lot to me, and he gifted me his time and his presence.

Physical Touch also seems obvious. This is not, however, just about sex. Physical touch can mean, kisses,  hugs, massages, just touching an arm when you pour his coffee, anything that brings your person in contact with their person in a kind and loving way. This does not including beating your spouse black and blue, unless they like that sort of things, in which case, I really don't want to know.

I am certain Larch's love language is acts of service. He is happiest when the house is clean and dinner is cooked or even if I get up and get him a beer when I don't need anything in the kitchen. I think I speak quality time. My parents think I speak gifts. The assessment at the end of the book say's I'm tied between physical touch and quality time. It is possible to be bilingual. I think my son speaks quality time and my daughter speaks touch. I just started The Five Love Languages of Children this afternoon, so I may change my mind.

I would recommend reading the book. Or at least checking out the website, http://www.5lovelanguages.com/. You can learn the languages, take an assessment, buy the book. It's an easy read and very insightful as to why
marriages start to feel stale and loveless after the honeymoon phase is over.

P.S. Happy Friday the 13th. Maybe my post should have been on luck. ;)

K is for Kindle

I am finally the proud owner of an e-reader. I off buying one because I really enjoy the smell and feel of books. I don't, however, enjoy the bulk and the weight of carrying them around. And when you're reading in the bath, it's hard to keep your fingers dry enough to turn the pages without leaving little watermarks.

I didn't actually buy myself an e-reader; I received my Kindle from my sister, A, for my birthday. I knew it was coming, but not because I am a sneaky present peeker. I was planning to buy myself a Kindle with our tax return, and when I called to ask for my sister's advice (she has had a kindle for a little over a year now) she told me not to buy one. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together; it was only 3 weeks before my birthday. Also, a week before my birthday, she emailed me to ask how important it was that my Kindle could read out loud to me. I didn't even know that was possible.

My Kindle skin. source.

My brother in law, J, and his wife, B, presented me with a $25 gift card for Amazon.com. I was so excited I logged on right then to buy a book (Mercy Blade by Faith Hunter) and a skin for my kindle. (I like to personalize my things.) I also signed up for a free trial of amazon Prime. Prime offers free two-day shipping and access to one book a month from the Amazon readers library.Eighty dollars a year is a great price, it's just not in our budget right now, so I will be cancelling my Prime account after my 30-day free trial is over.

I love my kindle. I can borrow books from my local library and I can borrow from and lend books to other kindle owners. (This is possibly why my sister gave me a Kindle; we read a lot of similar books.) I can also subscribe to a feed from my favorite blogs, but I haven't gotten that part figured out yet. Also, I have very iffy wireless access.

I really love that with the kindle app on my droid smartphone I can sync my devices and read my books even when I leave the kindle at home.My bookmark is in the same spot on my phone and my Kindle. It's great for those moments when you don't plan on being anywhere you have to wait, but lo and behold your child needs stitches and you rush out of the house to the doctor with only your child, your phone and hopefully your ID. Or maybe you just spontaneously decide to take the little ones to the park in the middle of running errands. With the kids, a purse, a diaper bag, a phone and myself to get out the door, my Kindle is not on my list of things I can't leave the house without.

I would totally recommend getting an e-reader. I'm not being paid to say this, I just think they are very cool. I feel very Star Trek reading from an electronic device rather than a paper and ink book. I am 57% through my current book, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go read now.

J is for Jacket

Three out of four members of my family now own camouflage jackets. My husband owns two or three, my son owns one jacket and one fleece pull over and I own a new pink fleece jacket with camo down the sides.   Lily doesn't have her own jacket yet, but she has a camo dress and wears all the camo her older brother has outgrown.I received my jacket as a birthday present from my kids this year.

This is what our closet will look like in 5 or 6 years.

 Larch goes to Black Sheep, our local sportsman's store, a lot. He is in there once a month in winter and spring, and once if not twice a week in summer and during hunting season. We buy a lot of birthday and Christmas present's there. 

A couple months ago, Larch and Johnny came back from a trip to Black Sheep with a whole bag of goodies. They had even picked up a little toy for Lily. I looked at Larch and said, "When I go to the store, I always come back with something for you. When you go to the store everyone gets something except me." I was really only joking. I married an outdoors man and I go camping a lot in the summer, but I am not that girl.  He replied "well, what do you want." So I joked, "I don't know, a pink camo sweatshirt." And that is how my kids decided mom need pink fleece with camo for her birthday.

I've decided that our family pictures with year will be Larch in his hunting gear, Johnny and I in our camo jackets, and Lily in her camo dress. How very redneck.

Ten Things Tuesday--Icky Ice Cream

In my research, I realized that the weirdest flavors all come from Japan. I've tried to include some from elsewhere, but the ice cream flavors in Japan are so so ICKY.

Click HERE for Source.

1.) Raw Horseflesh Ice Cream--Japan

2.) Garlic Flavored Dracula Ice Cream (Dracula also makes a  Cool Garlic Mint flavor)--Japan

3.) Squid Ink Ice Cream--Japan

4.) Onion--Venezuela

5.)Cold Sweat Ice Cream, made with milk, sugar, three kinds of peppers and two kinds of hot sauce. You have to read a waiver before you can sample of purchase this flavor. You can read that here and buy some if you are brave.--USA

6.) Sauerkraut Ice Cream, developed at Ohio State University

7.) Squid Ink Ice Cream--Japan

8.) Fried Pork Rind Ice Cream--Venezuela

9.) Indian Curry Ice Cream--Japan

10.) Sardines-in-Brandy Ice Cream--Venezuela

For more highly unusual and really gross sounding ice creams (like raw horseflesh) visit here

 Now that your turned off Ice Cream forever, go whip up some Irish Coffee Ice Cream. Recipe HERE

H is for Hide-Behinds

You know when your walking in the woods and you here that noise behind you and you turn and there is nothing there? Or when you feel like you are being watched and you are not alone? That's a Hide-Behind.

It's a troll like creature that stand about as high as a mans knee. They have long pointy fingers, sharp little teeth and big ears. They wear clothes made of animals skins. They roam the hills and that back woods, away from civilization.  Rumor has it that if you ever see a Hide-Behind, they will kidnap you, much like a fairy if you step in a fairy ring, and you will never be heard from again. It is not known whether they keep their victims as slaves or whether they kill them and eat them.  They are lighting fast, scary quiet, and delightfully vicious.

The next time you are camping, think twice before looking behind you for that sound you thought you heard, or those eyes you swear are watching.

G is for Grandparents

People who have living grandparents are some lucky people. All four of my grandparents are still alive, though my last great grandparent passed away when I was in junior high.  My children spend a good deal of time with my parents, their grandparents, and I know that they will have some wonderful memories to look back on. I have a number of memories of my own grandparents.

When I was in 3rd of 4th grade I was very into Felicity of the American Girls books. I wanted to have a afternoon tea party in a rose garden for my birthday.  Gramps, my paternal grandfather, had a beautiful rose garden in his back yard. The only problem was that roses don't bloom in April outside a greenhouse. I did what any girl would do. I postponed my birthday party for 2 months. We had tea and cake in the backyard by the roses. It was a "formal" party and all of my guests wore their Sunday dresses.  We played blind man's bluff in the front yard, it was very old fashion.

I had this Beauty and the Beast doll,
my sister had Cinderella and Prince Charming.
We both had Robin Hood and Maid Marion

Nana, my paternal grandmother, loved dolls. She collected porcelain dolls and had them all over her house.  She changed their clothes at Christmas as part of her decor.  She loved to take my sister and I to the Rosalie Whyel Doll Musuem in Bellevue. They had more than 300 dolls and toys on display. We always bought Peck-Gandre paper dolls in the gift shop after our visit. Those were some of my favorite paper dolls.  The doll museum closed in March of this year, which means I will never be able to take my own daughter there, but I still get to cherish the memories.

We called my paternal grandparents Grandma and Grandpa. When we were young they moved from the Seattle area to Albuquerque, NM. My sister and I used to spend 4-6 weeks there every summer until we were both past puberty. We would go visit the natural history museum, Old Town, and play Putt Putt Golf. Grandma and Grandpa live in a gated community with a pool. Last September, my grandpa turned 85 and there was a family reunion in celebration. My kids got to stay in the house I lived in a month every summer and play in the same pool. We went and visited the same places and played the same games.

I am older now and am gaining different memories of my grandparents. Memories of Grandpa holding my babies while sleeping in an easy chair, just has he held me and slept. Memories of Nana putting light pink lipstick on my two year old daughter. Gramps reading books to my children at Christmas time. I'm glad my children have 2 and a half sets of grandparents to create memories with.  Grandparents make childhood sweeter.