Saying yes...

I felt the earth move...

... and it wasn't due to Grizzled. A little after 4:30 this morning, I heard the apothecary jar where he keeps his spare change, start to rattle. I also heard the floorboards start to creak. I thought he had gotten up, but no, he was lying beside me. He was awake and had heard the glass lid on his change jar rattling as well. I then thought it was one of our daughters coming in after a bad dream. I called out, nope, no child. I then thought it was the dog, but that was when the dog came bursting into the room as though something had pinched his behind.

Of course the thought of burglars is never far from my paranoid mind, but the dog wasn't barking. The items on the top of the dresser stopped shaking, the floor stopped creaking and the dog plopped down. I put it out of my mind and went back to sleep. About 90 minutes later, Grizzled woke me up to tell me the cause of the rumbling. It was one of those rare Midwestern earthquakes. The New Madrid fault was making some adjustments. The real action happened downstate where they experienced a 5.4 earthquake.

BG and BP- they said it could be felt in portions of Ohio and Wisconsin as well? Did your earth move this morning?

My Nod to Brando and March Madness

It's March Madness time and Brando is all a'twitter...

It is the holiest day of the year...the start of the NCAA Basketball Tournament. I have been distracted from posting because, as usual, I am poring over basketball stats in the hope of making a bracket that doesn't suck. I will also be using my combined powers of wireless Internet and working at home to attach my office to the couch today and tomorrow. For the record, I have North Carolina, Wisconsin, Memphis, and UConn in the Final Four. Upset special is Davidson over Georgetown in round two, and Marquette getting to the Elite Eight. My bracket should be ruined by 4:15 Eastern today.

There was a time when I loved basketball. There was a time when I got caught up in the fervor. I went to a Big 10 school known for its team and then moved to a city where Michael Jordan ruled. I like basketball, I just don't follow it anymore. Now when March Madness rolls around, instead of pouring over the brackets, I think back to a time, long, long ago when a certain chair-throwing coach and I had a brief meeting.

At the end of my roller coaster college career, I was in need of one credit to graduate. I was fried, I was done, I was not going to take a 3 credit class at that point now matter how much I valued learning. That left me one choice, I'd be taking a Phys Ed class. My options were limited, only 2 classes were offered at this time. I could not take scuba diving, but saw a light at the end of my educational tunnel when I noticed they were offering "Bait and Fly Casting".

I had gone fishing once in my life when I was around 7, but I thought, what the hell... I'll take it. I was the only female and it was painfully obvious that everyone else had spent plenty of time fishing.  We actually did very little fishing in class, but spent the majority of our time in the gym casting weighted lures at hula hoops. I did learn my blood knots though and my muscles memorized the 2/10 or 3/11 or whatever positioning of cast and release it was.

At the end of the session, my glorious one credit in sight, we were told we were going to have a special guest. It seems an esteemed member of the university was not only good at throwing chairs, he was also good at throwing out a variety of lines. Yes, our famous coach was an avid fly fisherman. He was also going through a divorce, one of his many crises, so he was throwing out lines to many young women on campus.  I happened to be on the receiving end of one that day. He asked me if I might like to go fishing with him. I said thanks, but no.

I caught no fish in that class, but I did briefly snag a basketball coach and while I admired his basketball abilities and what he could coax out of a team, he was still kind of scary. I did not want to land this man, so I cut bait, scooped up my one credit, and ran.

You can even eat the dishes...

My best buddy, Scott, sent me a link for some fabulous bacon bowls. Apparently he's hip to the fact that many of my readers are obsessed with bacon. These "bowls" actually look interesting and could add a new way to serve of the long-favored BLT.

What interested and scared me even more though were the bacon craft links that I spied on the page. Yes, there's more you can do with bacon. You can make bacon soap! You can weave a lovely bacon mat! Apparently there is a niche for bacon textiles...

Scott and I have long tried to gross each other out with meat couture. He coming up with the canned ham slippers, me coming up with the veiny roast beef serape. I don't remember which of us came up with the bologna flapper dress. I don't think, however, that we ever explored the full potential of bacon as a fiber. I'm now wondering what Burberry could do with bacon...  would they be able to capture their trademark plaid using bacon!?!

Bacon... it's not just for breakfast anymore.

(thanks to Scott for the title to the post. I miss you, Scott!!! You should live HERE!!!)

Hawks on the prowl for rabbits

Maybe I'm feeling extra sensitive today since the book I'm supposed to be is Watership Down, but I was reminded a little bit ago that hawks are still large. Hawks are still fierce. We have at least a pair of hawks that hang out in our hood. They even look large and ominous from 3 yards away, but today, they buzzed my house. I nearly had a heart attack wondering why a small child or two was going past my 2nd story window. It wasn't until they landed in the neighbor's tree that I realized they were hawks. They looked like red-tailed hawks, not even in the large range for a hawk, but still MIGHTY BIG and intimidating.

They're probably having a field day out there. We got another 10 inches or so of snow yesterday and there is not a thing outside that is not covered in white. I can only imagine how visible every little scurrying rabbit or rodent must be. I can't even imagine what it must be like to know that creature is coming for you. Heck, I was inside and I ducked and took cover.

I still hate spiders...

I know they do good. I know they eat mosquitoes and keep other insects in check. I JUST DON'T WANT THEM WITHIN 100 FEET OF ME! Especially the large ones... those girthy ones... those musclebound, hairy ones that grumble my name as they're looking me in the eye and getting ready to charge.

The other morning I thought my worst nightmare had come true. Some LARGE, HAIRY spider was hopping, yes, I said hopping, across our office floor. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned and saw hair and joints and darkness and I knew, no matter how scared, that I had to find this spider before it hid in the strategically arranged piles on the floor. If it went into the piles, I'd never sleep. If it went into the piles, it'd wait until I needed something from those piles or decided I was going to get organized and put them away. No... for once in my spider-fear-filled life, I was going on the offensive. Besides, Grizzled was still in the shower.

I'd have to go after this beast and go after it, I did. I went after it like a mad woman, careening around, quickly throwing things to the side and then holding vomit at bay and shivering as I prepared to see its uncovered scariness waiting to lunge at me.

And then I saw it scurry out from behind a box. Dear. Lord. This thing was HUGE. It was not just my imagination. It was hairy and it was huge and it was hopping! It was also a bizarre combo of light and dark. Its main body was dark as only an evil spider can be and yet the hair on it was light and really long. It was gross!

And even though I was afraid it was going to grab my leg or jump onto my face, I knew I was going to have to stomp on it. I was wearing Merrill Jungle Mocs and I was still wasn't sure I could take it, but I would have to try. It was around this time that Grizzled emerged from the bathroom. Not only had he heard me thrashing about, but I guess I was making panic noises. He came in to see what was wrong. He came in right as I killed the beast.

It turns out... it wasn't a spider. It was a cricket... a large, dark cricket that must have escaped when I was trying to put some in Ponce's tank. Oh yeah, and the hair? The cricket must have found a hidden patch of dog hair tumbleweed and got tangled up in it and was dragging it along as it hopped into our office.

You know, even though I know it was now merely a cricket wearing a full-body toupee, I still shiver when I look at the piles in the office. I don't think I'm going to be able to touch them for awhile. Maybe I'll get organized in February.

And I still don't like spiders.

The Skimmer and I have something in common

And no, it's not that we both like BG, that's a given. It's something else. We both LOVE Ghost Hunters!! Yes, Ghost Hunters... on the Sci-Fi channel. I don't remember when I first discovered it, but I love it. Grizzled gives me endless crap for watching. Why on earth would I want to watch something so fabricated? Grizzled also doesn't like scary stuff. Well, if I followed his line of reasoning I wouldn't be watching any political coverage either...

No, I like Ghost Hunters. I like the campiness of it. I love that they're plumbers by day, ghost hunters by night! I keep hoping they'll find a real ghost or will at least capture real proof of something beyond our realm. I've always liked the line from Hamlet, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Part of me just can't believe in only those things I can see.

On top of that, I have Ghost Hunters to thank for helping us teach our latest dog to speak. Yep, that's right. Our latest dog is a goober. He's a smart boy, he's a sweet squishly-lishy boy, but some things he just doesn't get. It didn't help that when we got him, we still had our very smart pound hound. Whenever we'd try to get Truman to speak, Wilson would howl away. We'd put Wilson in another room with the door shut and yet when we'd ask Truman to speak, you could still hear the muffled howls of Wilson that somehow seemed to say, "I AM speaking, dammit!!! Give me a treat!!!" Truman remained very cute, but very mute.

Then one day the lamblets and I were watching a Ghost Hunter marathon. Well, I was watching, they're kind of freaked by it and would only occasionally peer in. I was watching the episode where they're at Myrtles Plantation in Louisiana, supposedly the most haunted house on EARTH!!1! My eldest lamblet asked what this episode was about and when I said, "a haunted plantation", Truman barked. I said it again, he barked again. I got treats so I could reinforce this behavior. I said it again... he barked again! For approximately 4 months, the only way to get him to speak was to say, "Haunted plantation!" He spoke every time. Eventually we replaced that cue with the more conventional, "Speak!" or "What do you say?" But it was Ghost Hunters that got our dog to speak.

I love the show anyhow. It's a guilty pleasure. I also hope someday they really find something scary and pee their pants. Maybe they could just watch election coverage.

As I've said, I don't really know what I believe, but I think I'd be shortsighted to think there is nothing beyond my 5 senses. I've had enough odd/creepy/eerie things happen to me that  make me think there is more out there.

What about you? Have you encountered anything you can't explain? Scary things? Eerie things? Things other than Chris Matthews?

And for those of you thinking we only name our dogs after Presidents, well that's not true. Wilson was named after a nephew's imaginary friend. As for Truman... he wasn't either, but if truth be known, his full name is Hairy Ass Truman. Take it for what you will.

Beware of the evil lurking within...

In the next week or so, some of you brave souls will be baking your batch of Holiday Bake-Off cookies. It is a time that should be filled with fun and merriment, but if not careful, it can be ruined. Deep in the bowels of every oven lurks a time bomb waiting to go off... no, it's not a build up of grease or even that pre-exploding potato that looks like it can take 10 more minutes at 450...

It's the Bill O'Reilly oven gremlin just waiting to ruin any batch of holiday, yeah, I said holiday, what are you going to do about it, cookies... Bill O'Reilly is not only fighting the war against the USO, he's still fighting in the War on Christmas and any of you who dare so much as utter the word "holiday" are in for trouble.

Now I'm sure plenty of you will be baking Christmas cookies. I'm sure plenty of you will be baking Chanukah goodies. Some may be venturing into the realm of Kwanza and maybe even a few of you will be dabbling in that exquisite Gingerbread Stonehenge in honor of the winter solstice. We here at the bake-off don't care what you're baking, but do yourself a favor and save yourself some trouble... during this time of the year, ovens have ears.

You better watch out,
You better not say holiday,
You better not pout
I'm telling you what they say...

Bill O'Reilly Oven Gremlins are lurking in your homes...

It might not hurt to toss a little bit of salt in before starting actual baking. Spinning around 3 times and spitting at the oven while decked out in ostrich feathers is also a trusted prophylactic measure.  We don't want any innocent cookies harmed before their time. Every cookie whether Holiday, Christmas, Toll House, or Snickerdoodle deserves to see the lovely baked light of day before it is jammed down our gullets.

Bill O'Reilly and his bastion of oven gremlins are waging on war on cookies. You can't be too safe.

An aside: We need to know who's baking!!! It is December 6th... that means you must bake and mail your entry SOON in order that we can receive it by December 21st. That's 2 WEEKS from tomorrow. If you're entering this lovely contest, you must be planning by now, so do us a favor and clue us in. AG is busy this week with finals and the wonders of Chanukah, but next week, she'll be back and she'll be in rare form. Don't make me unleash her judging fervor on your hinys. Shout out! Be heard!

This judge calls a moratorium on meat chatter

Ok- we're barely two days into this year's Holiday Bake-Off season and the meat commentary has reached a fevered pitch. Meat commentary must cease until further notice if you want any points for your current Cookie Queen and one of this year's judges.

Last night, while innocently slumbering, this dream entered my head (sorry Pinko, no celebs that I could tell unless you count me, your Current Cookie Queen):

I dreamed last night that I was cooking up a bunch of meat in a pot (gack). There were ribs and other cuts that looked mainly like pork. I then noticed an arm! There was part of the hand on it, but no fingers, no skin, and it was boned!! It also looked like pork, which doesn’t surprise me given we’re supposed to be closest to pork. (I think the Papuans called humans, Long Pigs!!!) In my dream I told Grizzled, who in his best *raised by Depression parents* tone said, “Ah, just cook it up, it’ll be fine!” I refused to, but don’t recall how the dream ended.

I chalk it up to too much bake-off talk yesterday with people saying they were going to submit meat (whether on the hoof or in a recipe) and then going to bed with the news on and hearing that the Peterson man whose wife is *missing* had a relative help him dispose of a large barrel...

Anyone coming up with the idea of sending *limb-shaped* cookies will be disqualified.

Yes, it's only day 2 and I'm feeling cranky.

FYI for Pinko... the judges are as follows:

Me
AG
UC
Grizzled aka G-Unit
 

Limited Edition: Precious Moments Vulture

Our favorite Snag... Snagglepuss, Snaglestiltskin, Snagchop... has been having what sounds like a hard week. He's had a lot of travel, a lot of offspring unrest, the usual daily grind. The man could use some uplifting. Well, I found just the thing.

Precious Moments in conjunction with the Franklin Mint is offering a limited edition, Carrion Collection! First up is none other than our favorite Cinereous Vulture! Sporting an inviting grin, this little vixen would brighten any curio cabinet. "Cindy" is elegantly perched on a realistic faux-bark limb and is surrounded by happy flowers. Adding to the reality is the elegantly detailed zebra hoof and hock. Why look at the protruding bone and gamy musculature! A treat for any voracious vulture that prefers things "well-aged".

"Cindy" will only be available for a short time so order fast! Or... join our Carrion Collection Club and be the first to receive an entire year's worth of cuddly little critters the minute they come out! You won't be sad you did!

Have mosquitoes taken over this site?!?

It has been suggested by one he/she/it/bird (aka, plover) that this site and its creator, have gone over to the dark side and have become pro-mosquito. I am not pro-mosquito, I am merely anti-spider-in-my-home. Spiders can live in my yard, spiders can live anywhere around me, preferably at least 10 yards away. I'm not sure that makes me pro-mosquito...

Plover has suggested that the mosquitoes have made a deal with me... he/she/it/bird wrote in a comment:

"You sold out, didn't you?

What kind of nefarious cookie ingredients did they offer you?"

I did not sell out... as far as I know. I was, however, baking cookies with my lamblets yesterday and what did I find on my kitchen counter this morning??

Apparently the mosquitoes don't have the steady hand that I do...

Plover, I think this one was meant for you!

The mosquitoes also wanted me to add the following YouTube tune by the wonderful Peggy Lee. Most people think she's singing about a man. She's not.

She's singing about a mosquito!