Country roads take me home

Let me tell you about this stretch of road.....

.....it makes my heart feel warm and it let's me know I'm home. It's a stretch of road that I've been down probably a million times in my life - literally. I have been going up and down this road for so long, I can remember when most of it was unpaved. When I was little, it was the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house. It was the way to school - which is where I broke my arm and caught the chicken pox from Caleb, who sat in front of me in the second grade. It was where I walked from the high school to the elementary school cafeteria for lunch every day. As we walked, the girls talked about boys and the boys talked about girls. And if the grass was wet, your shoes would turn green. It took me to Homecoming dances and two Proms. When you get to the stop sign, theres a beautiful, aromatic honeysuckle bush that'll just knock you over in the spring. And just below the hilltop is the turn up another steep hill that took me to Ag class in high school. If you turn right instead of left, it'll take you by my friend April's grandparents old house where we played in the summers and had a lemonade stand out front. I remember riding horses after the Western Days Parade along this road. It runs alongside where the railroad tracks used to come through town. If Dad and I were standing outside in our yard, we could hear the train blow it's whistle as it came through. It's where I see deer feeding in the grass beside the trees in the early mornings, completely undisturbed by me as I drive by heading into town. It's where I watch Roy riding his zero-turn lawn mower in front of the school. It zig-zags around Wilbur's Mini Mall (that's just what me and D call it, picture a place where the guys from American Pickers would have a great day) and crosses the creek that flooded waaaaaaay out of its banks when I was 16 or 17 and I almost choked out my stepdad's little S10 pickup as Grandma was yelling, "Give it the gas!" It's where Kyle walks his dog and carries his RC cola every day. In the cool evening, when the sun is hidden behind the trees and the breeze is blowing and you're driving with your windows down, you can just smell something special in the air; it's peaceful, calming, relaxing. It's the road that takes me home every day and the road that takes me to the cemetery where Dad and Grandpa (and a lot of other special people) are buried. This is my comfort zone.....

Homecoming

This past week was our local football Homecoming! Jakob decorated his locker...

...and dressed up for each themed day. At Friday's pep rally, he won "Senior with the Most Spirit", which he said really surprised him, and he was awarded a huge candy bar - which he and Devion devoured.

Before the coronation and the game, we met Josh and Shawna at our local Mexican restaurant, where Jakob had...

...his first chicken fried steak! He said it was delicioso. Okay, so that's my word, but he said it was good.

Our beautiful girls!

After the boys put a beat down of 34-19 on the other team, who was favored to win, we met up with Jakob, who'd been sitting in the stands with friends, and I asked him if he'd been up there kissing the girls or watching the game. He laughed and said he thought he was the only one of the group who'd been watching the game. He thought it was cool that #32 scored the 32nd point and #34 scored the 34th point. Then we dropped him off at the Elementary School gym for his first Homecoming Dance in the US. When D picked him up at the end of the night he said he didn't like the slow songs, he likes something with more of a beat. lol

Getting older

Today is my Mom's birthday! She's <mumble> years old. We had lunch together yesterday and as I often do, I overheard a conversation at an adjacent table that made us laugh. I did not eavesdrop; I can't help it that people talk loud enough for me to hear.

A group of older gentlemen, all of them well into the retirement age, were discussing retirement villages. I'll preface with this, the town they were talking about is a college town that also has a growing population of retirees, many of whom are former professors. One man said, "Now, Jim, I don't want to go live with a bunch of retired professors! They all 'know it all'!" I almost laughed out loud. His tone was very "hacked off" and he seemed so passionate about his dislike for retired professors. I wondered what led him to dislike them so much? Was it just one incident? One person? How long has he felt this way? Did he have a bad college experience? Did a professor flunk him? Whatever it was, something had really set him off about professors.

We were still laughing about the "know it alls" when he started in on heart doctors. "If you go to a heart doctor, the first thing they do is put you on a bunch of medicine. Then you feel like crap! They had me on that stuff and after two months of feeling horrible, I went to a real doctor and he told me to get off of that stuff!" Apparently, he dislikes heart doctors, too, and he doesn't even consider them to be real doctors! lol

As we listened to them talk, Mom and I began talking about getting older and a few days ago I watched Willard Scott sending out happy birthday wishes on the Today show. As I watched the faces of the 100+ age group scroll by, I wondered what their life must have been like, what stories could they tell? They weren't much younger than I am now when the Great Depression hit. How did they get through those times? How did they have the strength to continue on, believing that it would get better? How did they have the courage to start families during that time? Several years ago, an elderly woman from a town near here, who had lived through the Depression, died in her home and one of the things that surprised me was that she had a paper towel laying flat on her bathroom counter. It had been used, rinsed and laid out to dry more than once. She didn't want to waste the paper towel. I don't know what it was used for, but it was used repeatedly, rinsed and again carefully laid out to dry. What kind of experience does a person have to go through to become that concerned with not wasting a paper towel? Most of us would have used it once and tossed it in the trash. It really made me wonder, "What do I waste?" Could I reuse a paper towel if I had to? This generation of Americans also saw World War II, Korea, Vietnam, the Cold War, the implementation of the interstate highway system, the movement of women into the workforce and the invention of the microwave oven - what advice would these wise old sages bestow upon us if we would just take the time to ask them? So many times we forget that as people age, they're still people, with thoughts, feelings, desires, dreams and knowledge. Sometimes they have trouble expressing all of those things, but why should we not be patient enough to let them try? We get impatient with them on the road or in stores because they're slow; I've seen young people blow them off when they asked a question. The elderly should not be forgotten by their families. These people need interaction and stimulation with friends and family just as much as the rest of us. We also need to remember that they need support as they age when their friends, siblings and spouses are passing away and as they come to terms their own impending death. 

Today, because my Mom is one year closer to retirement and because none of us are getting any younger, I am encouraging you to take an interest in the elderly. If you don't have any in your family, look to your church or your community. Spend some time with them, get to know them, listen to their stories and offer them your support. Someday, you will be in their shoes.

Happy birthday, Mom!

The slow death of a watch

This is a story about my watch.

I've had this watch since about 1996. It was Mom's before it was mine. I was too poor to buy my own watch (seriously) and she got tired of me always asking her what time it was. So, she bought herself a new one and gave me this one. What I love about the watch is that the face is clean looking - the numbers are easy to read and the hands are easy to see, they even glow at night! And the band is stretchy - I don't have to worry about working a clasp, I just slip it over my hand and I'm good to go. This watch cost her less than $10. That's how poor I was at the time. I was young, recently divorced, working a full time job and my paycheck was absolutely stretched to the limit between rent, car, fuel, insurance, etc. I look back at that time in my life and wonder how I did it.

I have probably put 5 new batteries in this watch over the course of it's life - I just put one in it a couple of months ago, as a matter of fact. But, this watch is on it's last leg. The links of the band are starting to give out and now it is so loose on my wrist that it just hangs and twists. You can see several broken links in this pic. Ignore the blue veins. I'm pale, they show. Sorry.

Here's why I don't want to go buy a new watch:  because I'm a tightwad! I want my free watch to last my lifetime! I like this watch! I don't want it to die! I don't want to have to stand in front of the watch display, trying to pick out a new one and get frustrated because they don't have another one like it! I want it to last forever and ever, Amen! I guess, much like our mortal bodies, the mechanical, man-made possessions have a shelf life, too. However, I'm going to hold on to this watch until it falls off my arm - and then I'm going to save it and be buried with it! As long as it still works and will hold a new battery, I'm going to keep loving this cheap, old, worn out watch! Yes, I realize that I've already invested more in batteries than what the watch is worth. Don't make fun, some of you are so cheap that you're wearing underwear and socks with holes in them! :)

Me vs The Washing Machine

First, I want you to know that I have a blister on my left hand from all the digging I did on Monday. On Tuesday, I did battle with the watching ma-chine. And that does't mean that I did laundry. Well, I did do laundry, but this is a story about a much different battle altogether.

I had noticed over the last couple of months that the flow of cold water into the washing tub had slowed to a trickle. It would take about an hour to fill up the tub for a large load of clothes. In the words of Sweet Brown, "Ain't nobody got time for dat!" On Tuesday, I'd had enough of the slow-flow and decided to take matters into my own hands. No way I was asking my Dude to do it. I'm a take-charge, do it myself kind of woman. I have an able body and a somewhat clear mind - I can figure this problem out!

I pulled the washer out and the first thing I saw were dust bunnies of Diamond's hair and a little bit of mouse poop. Gross. I started unhooking the hoses to look for a clog. Someone, I don't know who, but someone put the hoses on backwards. Here's your free lesson on washing machine hoses - the end with the filter on it ATTACHES TO THE FAUCET, not the washing machine. That way, when the filter clogs you can easily clean it out. Since these were put on backwards, the clog was on the inside of the hose. Super. I decided I'd treat like I would a clogged drain and put a little bit of baking soda on it and then slowly poured vinegar over it. This burned my blister. And it worked! I flushed both hoses with hot water, then I pulled the filters out of the washing machine and gave them the same treatment. I hooked it all back up - hoses on correctly! - vacuumed up the dust bunnies and mouse poop and moved the washing machine back into place. I turned on the water faucets ..... I turned the cycle knob ..... and ..... OH MY GOSH!! It was like Niagara Falls!! Whoo-hoo!! The flow of water was unbelievable!! I did a cheer, a dance, gave out a few woot, woots and fist pumped myself a few times, then I ran to wake up D to brag. Then I called Mom to brag. Now, I'm telling you. But, not to brag. I'm just telling you because we're friends and I know you really wanted to hear the story.

Later,

I chose
To pick my nose
My finger smelled like that rubber hose
And not clean clothes

That was a quick poem I made up for you. Sorry.

Cramps

My husband is notorious for his cramps, specifically in his hamstrings and one really bad cramp in his big toe several years ago. I can't even tell the story of his toe cramp without laughing and snorting. He literally rolled off the couch, fell to the floor, grabbed his big toe, and started screaming, "Oooooohhhhh!!!! My toe is trying to make a u-turn!!!!" I'm already laughing as I type this out, remembering the sight of him on the floor, rolling around, holding onto his toe, screaming and writhing in pain. He says I always laugh when he's in pain. It's not the pain, but his reaction to it that sends me over the edge. He just kept screaming that his toe was trying to make a u-turn ...... a u-turn? I've never heard anyone describe a toe cramp quite that way.

Last Sunday, he had another cramp, this time 20 feet up a tree. I was at work when he sent me a text; here's how it went down, as he described it to me:

He had climbed up a tree to trim some limbs so he could put up his tree stand. For you non-hunting-types, this is what hunters sit in while they wait for the wild aneemuls to come in so they can "choot 'em!" (Kudos to you if you know what that's from.) One of the limbs fell and knocked the ladder off of the tree. I imagine there might have been a dirty word uttered. Then he got his right foot stuck in the middle of the tree trunk. While trying to free it, his left glute and hamstring started to cramp up. I'm already laughing. He tried to spin around and got his left pant leg caught on another limb and almost fell out. Okay, that doesn't make me laugh. All the while, his rear was still cramping up and he was having to use both hands to hold himself up, so he couldn't rub the cramp out. I'm laughing again. He finally kicked his left leg free, managed to pull his right foot out and rubbed his backside for a while. If you've ever met my husband, you know that at this point he was probably huffing like a race horse and had scared off any animals within a 3 mile radius. He managed to climb down to a lower branch and got the h-e-double hockey sticks out of that tree!

As he told me the story, I asked him if he took any pictures while he was up in that tree. You know, I like to have a picture to commemorate the event. That's normal, right? He said, "I was trying to not die, woman!" I guess that means he didn't get a picture. Shucky darn.

Manic Monday

This is how my Monday started out, it's a long story, prepare yourself:

I woke up about 7:00 and laid in bed fiddling with pictures on my phone and Facebooking. Then I got up and piddled with my blog and Facebook on the computer - some FB things you just have to do on the 'puter. Then D texted me to go look at the well head because he saw some water seepage the day before. I strapped on my flip flops and went to take a gander. Oh, yeah there was definitely a leak. The ground was wet in a ten foot square. We're in the worst drought since the dustbowl 30's, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out there's a leak. He said he was calling a well guy, so I took my cue that I didn't need to worry about it and went back inside to piddle on the computer some more.

A little bit later a stranger knocked on the door. When you live in the middle of nowhere, a stranger's knock always puts you on "alert". Guns, bows and arrows, grenades, rocket launchers - all at the ready. Okay, so we don't have grenades or rocket launchers. But, if we did, they'd be ready! This stranger said there were cows out south of my house. I told him they probably belonged across the road and that I'd go look and let the owner know. A few minutes later the girls and I loaded up to go look. Here's the kicker - there weren't any cows out! And there weren't any fences down, either! I ran back home just in case the stranger had been scoping us out and had used "cows out" as a ruse. Thankfully, all was well on the home front.

Then I thought about eating, because my stomach was growling, but decided to clean the bathroom instead - that was going to be my Monday workout. That's normal, right? Don't you skip a meal so you can clean? No? Well, you're just weird. While I was cleaning the toilet (ewww, don't even get me started), D called back. He told me to go outside and take the cap off of the well head to see if there was water inside the pipe. I started out the door and he reminded me that I'd probably need rubber boots. Okay, pink and purple rubber boots, check! I got to the well head and realized I need tools, so I went back into the house. Pink and purple bag of tools, check! (I also had on pink pants. Snap! Are you sensing a theme?) I got the cap off and there was a colony of ants on the underneath side. <insert lots of screaming, swatting and jumping around> I'm telling you, there were so many of them it looked like the cap was moving. Ick! I still feel "crawly". I had to go back into the house to get something to kill all the ants. Ants dead, check! I tried to look down the pipe and realized I needed a flashlight. Back to the house I went. Flashlight, check! I didn't see any water inside the pipe and that meant I had to start digging because D wouldn't be home until 6:00. You can't let this kind of thing fester or it'll get out of hand. I had to go back into the house to turn off the breaker for the well pump, then I spent the next hour digging a hole and dipping out water. I couldn't find our "good" shovel, so I had to use one that has a lead pipe for a handle. Do you know how heavy that thing is?! Omgosh!! And the mud was HEAVY!! It's probably a good thing that the handle was made of lead pipe and not wood, a wooden one would have snapped under all that pressure! I had mud all over me. And I'm not sure how it happened, but I even had mud on my derrière.

The leak is somewhere below that small pipe.

Like my muddy boots?

I had to stop digging because I had to get ready for work and since our water was turned off, I was going to Mom's to shower. I used some bottled water to rinse off my fingertips so I could put in my contacts, got a travel bag ready and sent Jakob a message to not use any toilets, sinks or shower when he got home from school. I got in my car, realized I didn't have on my wedding ring and had to go back inside. I got in the car again and realized I didn't have D's uniform that needed to go to the cleaners and had to go back inside again. Finally, I hit the road, toad.

Twenty minutes later I realized that I'd left my dinner on the counter. I don't get to leave work for lunch/dinner, so if I don't have something with me, I just starve to death. Plus, I still hadn't eaten anything since I'd gotten out of bed and my stomach was really starting to voice it's opinion on the subject. Put "buy reheatable food" on my list of to-do's before I go to work. Then, within half mile of Mom's house, I ran into this:
 

Thankfully, he realized that completely blocking a busy intersection was not the smartest idea he'd ever had and he left. I took a shower at Mom's, behind her clear shower curtain, which kind of freaked me out. It's very strange to be behind a clear curtain. I don't know why, but it's different than being behind a clear door. I just felt very ...... um ...... bare. And, the curtain attacked me the whole time I was in the shower. Do you think it has to do with the temperature difference between inside the shower and outside the shower? It just kept gravitating toward me. <insert creepy music> I like my Mom's house. It always smells like perfume and Scentsy stuff. My house smells like the country. Totally different smell.

After my shower I borrowed her toothpaste and some watermelon flavored chapstick. Yum. Then I borrowed her perfume. FYI, it doesn't smell the same on me as it does on her. Translation - I didn't like it. I ran to the store for a new phone case and the girls needed some candy (aka dog biscuits).

It's purple ... I like purple.

I went to the Express Lane with my 3 items and it took 30 minutes to check out. I'm not sure that fits the definition of "express". Then, I bought a drive-thru lunch and scarfed down a meal - don't scarf your food, it doesn't do the tummy well. I dropped D's uniform off at the cleaners, headed to work, called in a pizza for later and spent the rest of the night feeling like a fat toad from all of the fast food. Here's hoping tomorrow is better and that we have water and no leaks! Over and out!

Rolling our corn on the cob

Corn on the cob. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! I could eat it every day. Warm with some salt, pepper and a slab of butter on it. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! When I served it up a week or so ago, Jakob was a little surprised at how we apply butter to our corn on the cob. We roll it. We coat it. We slather it on. He's used to having a pat or two on top of his corn and he was quite enamored with rolling it.

I edited this photo, so the focus is on the food because I want you to get a good look at all of that yummy butter being slathered on the corn. I think my cholesterol just shot up a little bit and my rear ballooned.

Jakob's art

Jakob is an arteest. Sadly, there are no art classes offered at our high school. We always had art when I was in high school. I never took the class, but lots of kids did and it surprises me that they no longer offer it. I don't know if it's due to funding or if they just can't find a teacher or if there wasn't an interest from the students. But, Jakob is still finding an outlet for his artwork.

This is a banner he helped make for the football game on Septemer 21st. He said the other kids loved how he made the letters look like graffiti art. Purdy cool! Homecoming is this week and I can't wait to see what they come up with for the hall/door decorations!! He also got his first two "Bulldogs" shirts on Friday and he was real excited about it. And for the second week in a row he got to ride the bus to the game with the cheerleaders. What red-blooded teenage boy wouldn't love that?!

Blog unlocked!

Google unlocked my blog today! Woot! Woot! No more of that "possible terms of service violation" caca to go through!

Blog issues

Until google decides to unlock this blog, I have a new one: One Oklahoma Girl's Life (www.oneoklahomagirlslife.blogspot.com). For now, I will be posting here and on the new blog. If they refuse to unlock this blog, I will continue to post on the new blog. Feel free to follow me there! Thank you!

At the end of my driveway

At the end of my driveway.....

are these purdy flowers.

I love the bright yellow in contrast with the chocolate brown centers. Yellow is such a happy color. These flowers have really blossomed around here over the last couple of weeks. There are just rows upon rows of them! Every time I drive by them I have to smile. My Mom says I've always been one to stop and smell the flowers. I could sit and stare at them for hours. Mom could never do that, she has ants in her pants and feels the urge to move at all times. She would look at them and say, "Yep, they're pretty," then be off to conquer something else on her to-do list. Well, she did sit still one time on my back porch and she lost all sense of time and was late getting home. It was a breakthrough moment for her. But, I just love looking at these flowers, checking out all of their intricate designs, watching little bugs fly in and out, the wind pushing them back and forth. I could get lost in the scene all day long. When I feel super stressed from work or whatever other chaos is going on in my life, I like take a minute to let it all go, a minute to get lost in something other than myself, a minute to marvel at the Lord's beautiful and miraculous design all around me. So, today, because I'm your friend, I'm telling you to slow down, take a little break, let it all go and stop to smell the flowers. The dishes can wait a little bit. If you miss that tv show, it'll be okay. If you don't read a chapter of that new best seller, it'll keep until tomorrow. Take a deep breath and unplug for a minute, it'll do your heart and your mind some good! If you don't have any flowers around you, just look at this picture and imagine the warmth of the sun on your face, the breeze blowing, the leaves rustling, the smell of dirt and cow crap in the air and the herd of hungry cows bawling from across the road and I'm sure you'll relax in no time!

Kiki's Easy Pasta Salad

A few nights ago we went to my bro's house for a little cookout. He smoked pork, brisket, chicken, deer meat, beans and potatoes. It was super yummy! Jakob said his eyes were bigger than his plate. I have had that problem many times in my life, but I managed to control myself this night. I hate to show up empty handed, so for my part, I took a pasta salad. I cannot, repeat cannot, eat pasta salad made with mayonnaise based dressings. Gag! Yes, yes, I know, I'm very difficult to live with. I don't know how my husband does it. But, I do like pasta salad made with Italian dressing. I told Mom to pick up some ready-made pasta salad at the store, but she and Bill said it looked like puke (his word haha) so I decided to make my own. On the fly. I was feeling especially brave. It was so good that I made it again three days later. The first time I made it I used turkey bacon and because it doesn't shrink very much when cooking, I only used 7 or 8 slices. The second time, I used center cut bacon and it shrinks quite a bit, so I used the whole package. Also, I used yellow onion the first time and red onion the second time, but you can use whatever makes your heart go pitter-pat. Choose an Italian dressing that you like. I used Reed's Italian Dressing; we discovered it at the state fair a few years ago and I absolutely love it! Here's the recipe:

Kiki's Easy Pasta Salad

• 1 pound pasta, cellantani or tri-color rotini
• 7-8 slices of bacon, cooked and roughly chopped
• 5-6 Campari tomatoes, chopped
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 1 1/2 Cups Italian dressing
• 1 8-ounce package of shredded parmesan cheese

Cook the pasta according to the directions on the box, then drain. Fry up the bacon and give it a rough chop, I like larger pieces in my pasta salad. In a large bowl, combine the pasta, bacon, tomato, onion, dressing and cheese and mix it well. Enjoy!! (warm or cold, take your pick!)

The cast of characters - I forgot to get the bacon in the picture.

The final product. Yummy!!

The stray

This is a stray bovine - or cow if you never took Ag-Ed. She's a beaut! She didn't like her eating options across the road, so she ventured out into the vast unknown that is our yard. Notice the big tuft of yumminess hanging out of her mouth? We have pretty grass; it's green and full of good stuff! Generally, cows tend to stay together because they're herd animals, but occasionally, one does wander off. If you ever watch them graze across a pasture, they all move in the same direction. Because why? They're herd animals, that's right!

"Oop! I hear Bobo on the horn. That means I'm supposed to run over there because it's feeding time. But, I have all of this nice grass right here. I don't really feel like running back across the road." You can tell she's thinking about going, but not really sure if she wants to. She gave out a "moo" after this, as if she were saying, "You come to me!" A bovine with her own mind ..... a dangerous thing. If you're not familiar with how to call cattle in at feeding time, generally, honking your horn is their indicator that it's time to chow. You can holler at them, but the horn is louder. We used to honk the horn then say "Sssa-calf, sssa-calf, sssa-calf! Whoo-oo!" There's a definite art to how you say it. When we were just wee babes, my brother, my cousin and I would go with my uncle to feed and we'd stand up in the seat so we could see. It was the early 80's and seatbelts were optional. As he drove across the bumpy pasture our heads would hit the back window of the truck and it hacked him off like no other. "Sit down! I can't stand it when your head hits the window!" So, we'd sit down for a few seconds until we got a glimpse of some cows and we'd stand up again and bump our heads again and get yelled at again. It was good times.

To help encourage this independent-thinking-bovine, D did what everyone does when they push a cow, raise his arms and yell at her. It's a language they understand.

"If you yell at me one more time..." She's still not sure if she wants to go to Bobo or not. She's definitely thinking about turning around and bolting back to our pretty grass. Or maybe she's thinking about running D over?

But, finally, she gave up. The thought of eating some deliciously hard cattle cubes won out over the grass.

Ooooohhhhhhh! Pop quiz! When a cow gets up from laying down, which end of their body rises first? In other words, do they rise up front legs first or hind legs first? I'll give you a hint, it's the opposite of how horses rise. I will post the correct answer in the comments section later. :)

Oh, the Passion!

This is my bow. All self-respecting country girls should own one - even if you're like me and you're more of a target shooter than a big game hunter. Getch yoself one, gurl! Once you start shooting it, you won't want to put it down! Unless you've had enough of deer season. Then you'll stick it in it's case and not get it out again until next fall, which is what I did. I do love shooting it, it was just too hot this summer. But, as soon as fall hits, I get the feeva! However, I'm not much for eating deer meat, or any wild game for that matter, it's too gamey, which is why I'm more of a target shooter. One of the guys I work with swears that (prepare yourself for gross stuff) the key to getting the gamey taste out of deer meat is to let all of the blood drain out of it. He says after you quarter it up, stick it in several extra large ice chests, over ice. Let all of the blood drain out over the course of a few days, changing out the ice as needed. He says you can't even taste the gamey-ness after that. I haven't tried it, so I have no idea whether it works or not. Just passin' it along.

 

"Passion" by Mathews. Aint' she purdy? My dude had the handle engraved with "Sexy Red". lol

I love the details. Pink and purple, because, you know, pink and purple are camouflage, too. I blend with the flowers. It comes in other colors and I really like the black and teal, but I think this one fits me better. The Realtree AP finish would have matched my camo gear, but having a pretty bow is like wearing awesome shoes that hurt your feet - it's just necessary.

Don't you love the pink and purple veins and the green nocks? This distinguishes my arrows from my dude's. He would never have pink and purple. He likes red and yellow, like ketchup and mustard. I think mine look fashionable, which is important, right? The only thing that would make them better would be if they sparkled. Don't you think the deer would like that? Oh wait, I'm more of a target shooter. Okay, so they'd look real pretty sticking out of my target!

Whisker biscuit. That just makes me giggle a little. But, this is not what I picture when I think "whisker biscuit". It makes me think of a biscuit stuck in whiskers. Kind of like the time my uncle got a piece of popcorn stuck in his mustache at the movie theater and my Mom was trying to tell him about it, but she started laughing too hard and choked on a piece of popcorn instead. She should not have inhaled. Poor woman. We all laughed so hard we cried. And I may have snorted once or twice. Hey, it happens.

The mack daddy of releases! The Beast by Bone Collector. My dude tries to steal it from me on a regular basis because it's nicer than his. It's so smooth! For you non-hunters, this is what you use to pull the bow back - it saves thy fangers. (Say that like a redneck, it'll make more sense)

That would be me, aka Sexy Red, in my dude's shirt with my uncombed hair pulled up and still a mess. I like wearing his shirts. I don't have to hold my gut in and it covers my juicy booty - which is just a nice way of saying it's large and it jiggles. Yes, very sexy, indeed.

I'm not a robot

I apologize if you had trouble getting to my blog. Apparently, because I added links to a few of my posts, google flagged them and their robots think that I'm a robot. I can assure you, I'm not a robot. I have provided the necessary info to them and I'm supposed to hear back within 2 business days. Hopefully, all of this will be cleared up by Monday. In the meantime, thank you for reading my blog!! :)

Jakob's breakfast sandwich

I say these are Jakob's breakfast sandwiches, but he eats them morning, noon and night. After I looked at the ingredients, I realized that they're a lot like a monte cristo - one of my favorite sandwiches! - but healthier. Maybe you already make these in your house, but they were new to us. D eats the sandwich the same way Jakob does, but because I'm the difficult sort, I grill mine like a grilled cheese. I don't like to have warm bread and cold ingredients on a sandwich. I like either an all-cold or an all-hot sandwich, no in-between. And I can't eat cold American cheese slices under any circumstances. Blech! It has to be melted. It grosses me out just thinking about it! To be honest, I don't really like cold sandwiches. One time, I told a babysitter that I couldn't eat a bologna and cheese sandwich (bologna is a sure way to make me sick) and she didn't believe me. She found out the hard way that I'm no liar. The bologna (gag) and cold cheese (more gag) came right back up. Anyhooty, here's the recipe for these yummerific Faux Monte Cristo Sandwiches. Just so you know that I'm not someone who's completely set in my ways, I did try a bite of D's sandwich and gagged on the cold cheese before I made up my mind that I'd have to grill it. I like my cheese melted and ooey-gooey-yummy! Tastes like more to me! :)

Faux Monte Cristo Sandwich
2 slices of bread
Ham or turkey or both, deli thin slices, I only use 3 slices, but you can use more
Jelly or preserves, I use Smucker's Sugar Free Red Raspberry Preserves
1 slice of cheese, I use Velveeta slices (It melts better than cheddar! I know you sang that as you said it)

Jakob's version:
Toast the bread. Slap the jelly, cheese and meat on the toast. Put the two sides together and chow down.

My version:
Slap the jelly, cheese and meat on the bread. Put the two sides together then grill it on the stove. Chow down.

Head 'em up, move 'em out! Rawhide!

My dude went to help sort and move cattle the other day. He sent me a few pics, then I went and took a few. I showed up in my flip flops, that way they all knew I was there to work.

It's time to move them to another pasture and sort off the sick ones.

Oooooooohhhhhh! Riding in the big truck! So much fun! I absolutely love riding in a semi! You should try it some time. (Disclaimer: Not as a hitchhiker. No, no, no, don't do that. Ride with someone you know.) Too bad Jakob was in school, he'd have loved it! My Grandpa drove a semi and we loved it when he'd honk the horn at us. Us grandkids would climb up in the truck when we were at their house and pretend we were driving it, making the seats bounce up and down, pretending to pull the horn, checking the mirrors, shifting gears, talking on the CB like we were out on the big road, then backing up to our imaginary loading chute and we'd all get out to "unload" our cattle.  

Now, you kids stop crowding in there so much. I know you all want in, but it's just a one holer! Wait your turn.

It was a litte dusty out there. That'll turn your boogeys brown and black. Was that TMI? Sorry.

My dude got some poo flung on him when a cow kicked at him. By the time they were finished, he had several nice smears on him. It was pretty green and you know what that means. It stunk! He got in the truck to go to lunch and he smelled like a fresh pile! But, he still looked pretty sexy, so I overlooked the smell.

I thnk he has a little bit of poo on his face. Is that like egg on your face? It kind of outlines his eye like Lady Gaga's makeup. Maybe he did it on purpose? "Ooh, there ain't no other way, baby I was born this way!"

On a Sunday.....

I have been working hoot shifts for the last couple of weeks. If you're not familiar with shift work, this means that I'm working nights and sleeping days. It really wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule, your body and your life in general. It's exhausting. On Sunday, D had to work and I had to sleep, so Mom was super excited to step in for us! Thanks, Nana! Or in German, danke, Oma! She took Jakob to church with her and Lolo. She said service was especially lively that day and Jakob really enjoyed it! Afterward, they met D for lunch then went by the fire department. She was nice enough to take a pic for me.

Jakob was impressed by the size of the truck! I'm guessing if they don't have big pickups in Germany, they may not have big fire trucks, either.

After lunch, D and Jakob came home, watched some football, built a new target, made dinner and went to the gymnasium to play basketball. I slept. I slept through every bit of it. If I hadn't had to get up to go to work again that night, I probably would've slept straight through until Monday morning. I'm still tired. I think I'll go take a nap now.

Patriot Day

Because my body clock is off, I'm awake at 2:52 am. It's 9/11. Patriot Day. Today I will remember all of the famillies who lost loved ones and those who survived the attacks on this day 11 years ago; a day they will never forget, regardless of how painful it may be. This was a day that changed us. Please, don't forget it. Even if you're not one to sit and watch all of the shows about 9/11, at least take a moment to remember, a moment to send up a prayer, a moment to say, "I will not forget."

I'm tired of fires

Around 2:00 or 3:00 pm on Friday, Jakob got a big welcome to Oklahoma with his first experience with wildfires. I really thought we were through with fire season, but nope! And I was hoping that the Oklahoma Fire Season was an experience Jakob would miss out on while he is here. Friday's fires weren't as serious as the ones we had at the beginning of August, but were still a threat to homes and were dangerous for our firemen. A large fire started about 25 miles northwest of us, which sounds pretty far away, but in Oklahoma it's not that far. Heavy brush can make it hard to fight fires and blowing embers can spread fires rapidly, especially in high winds. Have you heard our state song? You know the line, "Where the wind comes sweeping down the plains"? Well the wind was definitely sweeping! It was out of the north at about 20 mph with gusts over 40 mph.

The smoke was already at our house and ended up blowing all the way to Oklahoma City - which is almost 90 minutes southeast of us! There were at least three more fires that started 5 or 6 miles north of our house. It's unclear whether these were started from blowing embers or an arsonist.

Jakob and I were watching the horizon and keeping track of the fires, but I wasn't too concerned about it reaching us. Of course, it's always a possibility, but I had faith that the firemen would get it extinguished before it got to us. Then a fire started less than 2 1/2 miles north of us. That increased the pucker factor a little bit. The air was thick and hazy and it stunk. We spent the next couple of hours waiting and watching and hoping they got it put out before we had to evacuate.

Finally, I heard the magic words on the radio - they were getting the fire under control and they started canceling other departments that were responding to assist. They got the fire put out and all was well with the world again. Until Saturday morning when they had to respond to someone burning trash. I'd like to take this opportunity to remind everyone in this area WE'RE UNDER A BURN BAN. Thank you :)

One more grammar lesson

When I first moved to California, I felt like once I had adapted to the strangeness that is Southern California (known locally as SoCal), I fit in pretty well. Until I opened my mouth. People would look at me, cock their head to one side, get a little grin on their face and then say, "You're not from around here, are you?" The first time someone asked me that I thought there must be something awesome about me that screams "OKLAHOMA!!" - side note: when I read that last sentence, I said "OKLAHOMA" like the beginning of the song (OOOOOOOOKLAHOMA). They must think I'm so cool! I would get all excited and say, "No, I'm not. How'd you know?" They all said the same thing, "You talk funny." I'm mentally giving all of them the finger.

One of the words that I earned the most ridicule for was "lawyer". I worked in a law office and it was a word that came out of my mouth no less than 816 times a day. It sounds like a harmless little word and I always thought that it was, but apparently it's a real doozy. How do you say it? I say it like it reads, "law-yer". I never knew that there was another way to say it. Apparently, everyone else in America says, "loi-yer" - or at least everyone in my office said it that way. I told all of them that they were all wrong and didn't know anything about the English language and apparently they couldn't read. It's spelled l-a-w. Duh.

Last night I asked my bff google about it and guess what I found?

law-yer /'loi-әr/

What??? Who's the idiot that decided they would spell it "law" and pronounce it "loi"? This can't be right! Go ahead, click on the link and listen for yourself. Loi? Really? Are there other words in the English language that have an "aw" pronounced "oi"? If there are, I'm probably saying those wrong, too. I'm staging a protest against this word. Join me in this fight! Let's right this wrong! Repeat after me: LAW-YER! LAW-YER! LAW-YER!

This message brought to you by English teachers all over Oklahoma. Just kidding :)

More terminology

D said that I forgot to include the word "towel" in my examples of how poor my use of the English language is. He and my mother both say "tăl". It's like "tall" with a short a; one syllable. I say "tŏw-el". Two syllables, pronounced the way it reads.

I decided to google it, because like I said, I google everything, to see which one of us was right. Google returned this: tow-el. Hmmm, I see two syllables there, how about you? There was also an audio clip of how it's pronounced. I played the clip and there were distinctly two syllables; "tŏw-el". I said, "There! Did you hear that?" His response, "What? What was that? All I heard was 'rowl.'" LOL

Here's the link to the search results. If the link doesn't work, just type "towel definition" into your google search. Listen to the audio clip and make your own decision about who's right :) 

Sweet and sour eggs

In our house we have two languages, the one I speak and the one my dude speaks - this of course is not including the occasional German that Jakob speaks. D and I differ on a few things in our terminology. For example, anything that has "oo" in it, D says that I put too many syllables in. School sounds like "skū-al", tool sounds like "tū-al", pool sounds like "pū-al". You get the picture. Don't you find if highly hypocritical of any Okie to criticize another Okie on their use of the English language? I will admit that I heard the word "thay-at" (supposed to be "that") come out of my mouth one day and I almost died and began correcting myself immediately. But, I honestly don't hear myself saying "skū-al". It just sounds like plain old "school" to me.

We also disagree on what to call certain foods. The other day I made what my family has always called Little Hamburgers with Mushroom Soup. D says it should be called Meatballs and Mushroom Gravy. Take your pick or make up your own name, they were delish! You've probably had them at your house and you call them something else. I think I've even heard them called Poor Man's ______, I forget what goes in the blank. :) It's basically tiny little hamburgers topped with mushroom soup that's been mixed with a little bit of milk. You've had this, right? No? See easy instructions below.

I partnered up the LHWMS with mashed potatoes and corn, which is called "mais" in German. D and I eat our corn on top of our potatoes with a scoop of butter on top - don't lecture me about the unhealthiness of the dish, I like it that way. Indulge me, I don't eat it that often. When I plated Jakob's food, I put his corn beside his potatoes because I didn't know if he'd like them mixed together. But, when he went back for seconds, he mixed them. Atta boy! I asked him how he liked it and he said it was tastier than eating them separately. I asked him if they eat a lot of mashed potatoes in Germany and he said they do and his favorite potato dish is Potatoes and Sweet & Sour Eggs. I'd never heard of it, but I'm willing to try it so I asked him how it's made, but he didn't know. He said his Mom makes it and it's either a lunch or dinner dish. So, I googled it. I google everything. Google is my friend. I will google you if you tell me your name. I may google myself later. Here are two recipes that my bff google sent me, I hope one of them is close to what Jakob's mother makes.

German Sweet & Sour Eggs Aka Suess-Sauer Eier

Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons canola oil
• 40 g all-purpose flour
• hot water, as needed

1 pinch salt, to taste

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar, to taste

2 tablespoons granulated sugar, to taste

4 -6 eggs, cooked any way you like them

2 -3 potatoes, peeled, sliced, cooked

Directions:

1.  Heat the oil in a skillet and have ready a cup or two of hot water.

2.  Whisk in the flour and cook until brown, stirring constantly--be careful not to burn the flour.

3.  Add a small amount of hot water to the pan, whisking well, to create a sauce-like consistency, adding and whisking as needed.

4.  Whisk together the vinegar and the sugar, then add as much or as little to the sauce as you like (taste and adjust if necessary).

5.  Cook eggs however you like them (pan fried, hard boiled, etc) and serve with the sauce and some potatoes, if desired.

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Sweet and Sour Eggs

Ingredients

1 tablespoon butter

1 small onion, peeled and minced

1 teaspoon flour

1/2 cup water

3 -4 cloves

2 bay leaves

2 tablespoons vinegar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon sugar

12 eggs

Directions

1.  Melt butter in a skillet, add onion and cook slowly (do not brown).

2.  Add flour and cook until golden; add water, cloves, and bay leaves and cook until smooth, stirring constantly.

3.  Simmer 15 minutes longer.

4.  Add vinegar salt and sugar and as soon as sauce comes to a rapid boil, add eggs one at a time.

5.  Cover and cook until eggs are done as preferred.

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And here's the easy recipe for LHWMS:

1 lb ground beef

Salt, pepper and garlic powder, to taste

Woowoo sauce (aka Worcestershire Sauce if you don't speak my language), to taste, 5-10 splashes

2 cans Cream of Mushroom soup

Milk, enough to fill about one of the soup cans

Combine the beef, salt, pepper, garlic powder and Woowoo sauce and stir until it's all mixed together. Form meatball sized hamburger patties and cook them in a pan over medium-high heat until they're about halfway done and crispy on the bottom. Flip them over and repeat. In a bowl, combine the soup and milk, whisk until smooth. When the burgers are cooked through, pour the soup mixture over the top. Stir it and the burgers and make sure you scrape any of the black stuff off of the bottom of the pan, it's yummy! Let it cook through and then chow down! With this recipe, you'll have some extra "sauce" in the pan. D likes to put it on fried potatoes. :)