March 30, 2005

A Regular Forrest Gump

I was driving the boys to soccer tonight and I heard Bones (Son#3) say to my 2nd Son, "We're like Beans in a Pie."

I looked in the rear view mirror and said, "Beans in a Pie? Do you mean... Peas in a Pod?"

Blank look as he doesn't know what a pod is... we don't eat a lot of snap peas. Finally he said, "No, Mom, it's Beans in a Pie, not Peas in a Pod" whilst looking at me like I was stupid.

So... there the three of them were sitting, in the back seat of my van, all decked out in their soccer uniforms, cleats and all... looking like Beans in a Pie.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:34 PM | Comments (11)

A Labor of Love

I know, I know, you spend all your time wondering what I do in my spare time... besides contemplating learning to knit...

My 2nd son's First Holy Communion is coming up at the end of April. I think most of you know, I am NOT Catholic, however my husband is, and I felt since he was the more religiously convicted of the two of us, that if he saw fit, the children would be raised Catholic. We send them to a local Parish Catholic School. He takes them to Mass every Sunday. And I try to be as supportive as I can, considering I am not Catholic and am not converting.

It is a joke when the kids bring home religion homework. Where usually I am the first they come to with ALL homework, when it's religion it is often heard, "Um, Mom, I have homework, but nothing you can help me with. It's religion. We gotta wait for Dad." It always makes me laugh.

As I said, I try to be as supportive as possible, hence I am very active in their school. I ran the Parish Spaghetti dinner for a couple years. I'm the school Treasurer now and tomorrow and Friday, since the school is fixed and the kids are going back to their school on Monday (Yay! Team!) I will spend the better portions of those days hauling furnture, helping to set up classrooms, and cleaning stuff from Hurricane Storage.

Also... I am the lead on the Holy Communion Quilt. Every child making their 1st Holy Communion made a quilt square. The religion teacher provided them with patterns and suggestions... rebirth, forgiveness, Christ being the theme. Lambs, crosses, butterflies, and fish are just a few of the patterns supplied. Meanwhile, I provided the fabric and the directions.

The first quilt I made for them... I inherited the task. My eldest was in 1st grade, but it seems the woman in the Church who was to make the 2nd grade's quilt, died or got sick, so a plea went out to all parents who could quilt to step up and help.

I was the only one.

So I quickly threw this quilt together, receiving squares from children that had been provided NO guidance. The material was a cheap fabric and was fraying. There were no seam allowances left, so as I sewed the squares together, I was sewing over patterns. Kids had used elmer's glitter glue, water soluable paint, layers and layers of felt, and pipe cleaners.

I got black paint on my iron, nearly destroyed a glitter glue butterfly, had glitter in every inch of my carpet from laying it out, and had to wear my glasses as safety glasses since I kept breaking needles sewing over 5 layers of felt and over pipe cleaner crosses.

It was a work of love though and everyone loved it.

The next year I learned and provided strict guidelines as well as taped the fabric to a piece of poster board so there was NO WAY they could move past my seam allowances. It was a lot of work up front, but worth it in the end. It came out beautiful.

I do this every year I have a child in 2nd grade and it is interesting, this being my 3rd since I came to the rescue of that one class. The collective conscience of the 2nd grade changes every eyar. One year I might get 1 chalice, but 30 butterfies. The next year I might get a smattering of fish, but 15 brown and gold chalices. This year, I have more darn lambs, fish, and crosses than I can shake a stick at. Oh, and butterflies rule this year too. It's been a challenge getting them scattered so I don't end up with clumps of pink and purple butterflies in one corner.

And to show you the significance of this quilt... last year they gave it to my friend J. who was dying.... as a gift of hope and prayer. (Last paragraph of that post mentions the quilt.) She carried it with her to the hospital. When she died, instead of flowers on her casket as they strolled her casket down the aisle, there was the quilt, draped over her casket. It took my breath away and still makes me cry remembering. I couldn't have handled it if it had been my turn that year to sew that quilt.

So this quilt is special. When it is finished, the kids will gift it to someone they feel is in need, like they did J.

I've been working tonight, cutting fabric for the borders and sashing. We start sewing this weekend. In the extended entry is a picture of what I have laid out. When it is finished, I will post a picture.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:30 PM | Comments (9)

March 29, 2005

Happy Day

I just spoke to blog brother Joe and blog father Grau on the phone. It’s so funny, but you cannot hear accents on blogs. They have what I consider thick Illinois/Wisconsin accents. It cracks me up! I love hearing them talk. I wanted to keep them on the phone and just pick out certain words and say, “Say that again!” Heh heh heh!

And… they are the nicest guys. I love my blog family.

And… in case you are wondering what I sound like, as Harvey said to me when he spoke to me first time on the phone, he now reads my blog very quickly as that is how I speak. I also have a light Gulf Coast Southern accent, that comes and goes. Just so you know…

Posted by Boudicca at 10:27 PM | Comments (12)

Bite The Bunny

I need to hurry and finish my stupid chocolate bunny so I can lose this 20 lbs. Easter did not help my cause at all. However, as much as I want to eat my bunny, let me say that the active word here is *I*. I don’t want anyone else eating him. I bought myself a dark chocolate bunny this year. I LOVE Dark Chocolate. Yes, my friends, a good dark chocolate is the way to my heart.

I’m a start with the ears kinda gal and as of last night, I had eaten down to his nose. I noticed this morning that someone had taken a knife to his head and finished off the lower half of his jaw/head. I don’t take knife to bunny… I take teeth to bunny. I had to GENTLY remind my spouse today that he has his own daggum bunny and to quit eating mine.

I may have to hide him. Bunny, that is.

And speaking of chocolate bunnies, when my husband’s family came over for Easter, his brother picked up my bunny and said, “Wait, did you just open the package and eat it right out of the package?” I looked at him like he was stupid and said, “Uhhhh… Of course.”

I just slit the top open, push the ears out of the bag, or if he comes in foil, I peel the foil down, and then eat the ears.

My brother in law seemed to be appalled by this. He asked if he could have some of my bunny and I replied, “Sure, but my teeth have been all over his head, maybe you should eat the butt.” So… he took a knife to the butt. Now I know he was being nice, cutting my bunny since it’s mine and not wanting to get his germs on it, but after seeing knife marks on my bunny’s neck today, I have come to the conclusion that my husban'ds family are knife wielding bunny cutters.

Is this normal? Or am I? I just thought one bit the bunny when one saw fit.

So the status of my bunny now is, no head, no arms, the basket on his back has been gnawed off and I am now slowly working down his torso… and of course his tail is gone since I gave it up to my brother in law.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:17 PM | Comments (8)

Education is Seriously Taking a Dive

My sister left today, making the 9 hour haul to my folk’s house. My house is quieter, not as much laughter and energy as it was yesterday. No more late night Scrabble game. No more of she and I quietly poking fun at the kids and their expressions. Normally I have to laugh to myself. It was fun to laugh with someone at the absurdity of it all.

We sang to the kids yesterday in the car. This is going to be an odd thought thread here, so stick with me.

Is it a generational thing or is it where we grew up, that we remember learning ‘slave songs’ in school? They’re actually called ‘spirituals’. Anyway, Morrigan and I remembered a couple and started to sing them to the kids. She then remembered we had watched ‘movies’ about slavery in school. I remember that, but she says in conversing with other adults that they didn’t watch these films. I know my children have NEVER watched a movie on slavery.


Anyway, we ended this ride with our singing to my boys the other song we learned in school, “Fifty Nifty United States”, which I learned while living in Maryland. Of course in 4th grade we moved to Florida and when everyone in my class got to the end where they say, “”insert state here’! Is The Best!”, they all sang, ‘Florida!’ and my loud voice shouted ‘Maryland!’. It never occurred to me that everyone learned this song by state… I was just happy I knew the same song.

I’m disappointed my kids haven’t learned that song. How ever will they learn their states?

Posted by Boudicca at 10:10 PM | Comments (6)

March 28, 2005

J+K= "L" for Love

The Lovely FrankJ and Talented and Great SarahK… have… Gotten Engaged! Whahoo! That’s right, Frank is marrying his T-shirt babe… who happens to be more than a girl who looks great in a T-shirt, but also a CPA to boot.

Read his version HERE.

Read her version HERE.

It makes my heart warm. I have nothing but happy wishes for them.

To Sarah and Frank: May you always be a team. May you always be able to turn to one another and share your deepest fears and conquer them together. May your love continue to grow so that each anniversary you look upon your engagement and think, “I thought I was in love then… but I love him/her so much more now… ‘

Best wishes and God Bless to both of you.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:51 PM | Comments (2)

Sheeeee's Baaacck!

The wonderfully creative Pam, of Pamibe, is back! She took off blogging for Lent and since yesterday was Easter, she is back to blogging and reading blogs. Go pay her a visit and welcome her back!

We missed you, Pam!

Posted by Boudicca at 11:46 PM | Comments (1)

A Difference in Definitions

The word would be Conservative.

I don’t dress matronly, just casually and I would say very conservatively. I wear a lot of solid colors and other than the fact I like my shorts kinda short (I hate those long shorts), I keep my body pretty covered… nothing too tight or low cut. I just don’t have the bod for it.

My sister, she is very curvy. All of a size 2… maybe a 4, she is all curves. Currrr-vy. Curvy. Stacked comes to mind. Curvy. Where I got the more athletic boy bod, she got the womanly curvy bod. Did I say curvy? Yup. Curvy. Oh and bubbly and funny, and smart and… curvy.

So we’re shopping today and we stop in Ann Taylor Loft as they’re having a sale. I grab 4 pairs of shorts because I’m all about shorts and no shoes. She picks up some clothes for her new job.

We get in the dressing room and she comes out in this cute little flimsy top. It wasn’t tight… just rather… fitted. It showed her ‘curves’ well. It was sleevless and since I am not good with fashion, whereas she always looks like she JUST stepped out of a fashion magazine, I would say the blouse had a seam that went right under the bust, so the rest of the flimsy blouse just kind of hung there. I think they may call it Baby Doll. I don’t know. Anyway, the colors were good on her, it looked cute on her, but when she walked out, the first thing I noticed was her bust. Did I say she was curvy?

She says, “I think I like this. It’s kind of conservative.”

I stared. Then I said, “Where? You mean that it is conservative in the fact it… covers… all the parts?”

She laughed. “Yeah, it’s conservative. I could wear this to work.”

I stared again. Finally I said, “Well, maybe in your industry that's conservative, but in the aerospace industry that is not.” I wanted to say, “Hey! Maybe if you work in a bar that’s conservative!”

Whatever. She decided she didn’t like it that much because it ‘made her look fat’. I told her I wouldn’t buy it strictly because if you wear it to work people won’t ever look at your face. Not that the men probably look at her face anyway, but still. Geez.

She told me later when I was ragging on her about it that she would wear it with a jacket. I thought about it and decided “Yeah, OK, I can see that… maybe” and then she added, “and I’d take my jacket off at my desk.”

I think she was looking for the shock effect. Which she got.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:43 PM | Comments (7)

March 27, 2005

Easter Memories

Ahhh, Easter memories… so many. There was the Easter that I blogged in the comments at THIS post over at Tammi’s, her Saturday question of the week, this one on Fond Easters.

Then there was the time we were small and my folks served rabbit for Easter, their own little joke… that we little people never caught on to.

Then there was my first Easter hiding eggs for my eldest, and I called my Mom in horror, “Mom, did we really eat all these eggs after they had been sitting out for TWELVE hours?!” (Yes, we did. Yes, we still do.)

Then there was the Easter that the ants got in all the eggs. As my kids would find the eggs, ants would crawl out. That was gross.

There was the Easter, when I was a kid, that we went to Amelia Island and we kids were in bed, and we could hear my folks laughing hysterically with my grandma, as they went out to the car to get the bunnies and they had melted down to the bottom of the box… a little sugar bow in a puddle of chocolate.

Then… there was… the belated Easter Gift. My best friend from high school, who sometimes comments here as PFB, often laughs at this story as only I would consider a day like the day I’m going to describe as “Truly, a Very Good Day!”

My sister was dating this guy I hated. I still hate him. Before y’all think I hate all her ex’s, this is not so. There are only a few I hate. As a matter of fact, if she and her current beau do not work out, I won’t hate him. Bad things happen to good relationships, that doesn’t make the guy a jerk just because he was dating my sister.

Anyway, this one guy… I still just refer to as F***head. To tell you how much I hate this guy, other boyfriends I have hated, I have at least used their names first… such as Bob the D***head. Not this one. He gets no first name. It’s just F***head. Pathological lying, piece of garbage that he was… only one good thing came of that relationship… and this is the story of it.

They were coming to my house for Easter, as she always does. This was to be the first time I was to meet him. I went out to Harry and David’s and spent the big money on getting them each these cool chocolate Easter Bunnies, with 9 inch long ears and 3 inch bodies. Then… the day before they’re going to arrive, he cancels on her. She was pissed, I was pissed, I put his bunny in my pantry, and forgot about it.

Over 18 months pass, I’m on the phone with a friend of mine, and I’m up on a ladder, cleaning off the top shelves of my pantry, getting rid of old baby bottles and other baby paraphernalia. (The baby factory was officially closed.) I find this box and inside… is this chocolate Easter Bunny. I could not believe my good fortune. Holy crap. A chocolate Easter Bunny… and it’s nowhere near Easter.

I get off the phone and call my best friend, PFB, and I’m declaring to her something like, “OH.MY.God. This is Truly a GREAT Day. You are NOT going to believe what I found?!!” And I hung up the phone and sat down and ate it. All of it, I do believe, in one sitting.

That’s the only redeeming thing about that failed relationship. I got the unexpected boon of finding a chocolate bunny when it wasn’t Easter.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:55 PM | Comments (9)

More on Easter Part II

So my sister is putting my eldest to bed last night. My eldest tells her that the Easter Bunny is as big as China. This is their conversation.

Morrigan: As big as CHINA? That’s pretty big.

Brown Bear: Well, he’s just really big.

Morrigan: Hunh. Then how is that no one sees him?

Brown Bear: His feet are like cotton.

Morrigan: Well that explains why no one HEARS him, but why does no one SEE him?

Brown Bear: Silence as he ponders her question.

Morrigan, continuing: Perhaps he has something that makes him invisible.

Brown Bear: Yes, that’s it. An invisible force field!

That’s when she kissed him and left him to go to sleep. He’s 10. She says that it’s just really really wrong that he understands the whole sex thing, but really believes in the Easter Bunny. I’m thinking I’m in a whole heap ‘o trouble. Invisible Force Fields, huh?

Meanwhile, Son#3 informed us this morning that the Easter Bunny is really a guy all dressed up in a costume. Something is not quite right when my 5 year old is logically thinking its a real guy dressed up as a Bunny, sneaking into our house (scary thought), meanwhile my 10 year old thinks it's a big damn bunny hidden by an Invisible Force Field. Anyway... I was about to say something to my 5 year old about the absurdity of my letting a man dressed as a bunny sneak into my house... when I realized, that he thinks I let a guy dressed in a red suit pop into my house once a year.

In his eyes... bunny suit.... red Santa suit... no difference.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:50 PM | Comments (1)

More on Easter, Part III

My sister and I were coming back from the beach with the boys today. We could hear them in the back chatting. Now, you need to know, that my 2nd son, who just turned 8, is very into God. Holidays have their true meaning in this house as he pontificates on the real meanings. Unfortunately, his meanings are not necessarily those of the Bible and sometimes… his observations are a bit off… not a lot… just a little.

So here we are toodling down US1, and I hear him telling his brothers about how Jesus was pinned to the cross. This is not the first time I have heard of this ‘pinning’. Every time I hear of it, I think of some Jesus Christ Voodoo Doll. (Can’t wait to see what I get googled on for that one.) Anyway, I can’t help it. It’s just what pops into my head.

He is saying to my eldest, “You know, you think that Jesus died pinned on that cross, but he didn’t. He died because he was curled up.”

Son#1: Curled up? What?

Son#2: Yup, he died, because he was curled up. He was in so much pain and he died because he was curled up.

Son#1: WHAT Bible have YOU been reading?!

Son#2: The real Bible. Mrs. V reads it to us every day.

Son#1: Where is this curled up thing?

Son#2: You know how his knees were bent? And how he was leaning forward? His arms were pinned to the cross and he was leaning? He was curled up. That is what killed him.

It suddenly made sense to us what he was saying… but I had never thought of it that way. In his eyes Jesus was all curled up.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:45 PM | Comments (3)

Victory in Scrabble!

Heh! It has finally paid to work in the aerospace business for all these years. Last night, I used all my letters, emptying my hand, garnering me an additional 50 points on top of the pointage I received from my word.

Stunned. She was Stunned, I say! Yes. I beat her like a Tom Tom last night.

The word was: Throttle.

Morrigan said, “I can’t believe you saw Throttle in your tiles. I would never have seen that.”

My reply was…. “and that is because I see that work every time I go to work…”


Posted by Boudicca at 08:41 PM | Comments (3)

March 26, 2005

The Last

The kids are in bed, the Easter Bunny is arriving momentarily and all is right with their small little worlds.

Tomorrow they'll awaken to look for the eggs they colored, but the 'Bunny' hid. My sister will give me the look at some point... the look that says, "I cannot believe your 10 year old knows about SEX, but still believes in the Easter Bunny."

This is his last year, I'm sure. Maybe he has quit and just doesn't admit to it. He's into Fantasy books, so I think he still believes. Truly believes.

It is the innocence of it all that I bask in. I will awaken tomorrow morning soaking in their innocence as they wander around the room, laughing and giggling, looking for eggs, foraging through their baskets, trying to convince me that chocolate bunny or peep is a good breakfast food... just this one time. And I will acquiesce and feel sick to my stomach as I watch Bones eat a Peep at 8AM. Blech.

I will love all of it... as I do every holiday morning. This will be the last year where they all believe...

Posted by Boudicca at 10:57 PM | Comments (6)

Pigtails Don't Make You My Daughter

One of the meat guys in the meat department at Publix thought he had to break up a fight today. That’s not what happened.

I have all of my husband’s family coming over for dinner tonight and tomorrow night. I decided to make a turkey for tonight as I just got this turkey roaster and I figured it would be easy. Throw the turkey in, plug it in, let it cook. No sweat.

So we walk in Publix and my sister says, “Why are we not grilling out? Just hamburgers and hotdogs, that would be so easy.” I replied, “Because we’re having turkey. Any left over we can have for sandwiches tomorrow for lunch.”

We wander through Publix and get to the meat section where I’m picking up ground beef for my husband to make meatballs for his lasagna tomorrow. She looks at me and says, “Why are we not grilling out? I don’t get this. It would be so much easier than cooking a turkey.”

At that point, I’m laughing because she won’t let it go and because she is reminding me of my kids, “why, Mom, why? Huh? Huh? Huh? Why, Mom, huh?” So jokingly, I turned around, my eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, lips closed tight with a low growl coming from my throat, and I grab both her shoulders with a light shake and say, “Because we’re having Turkey!”

She’s laughing, she can tell I’m joking, but… the meat man can’t. Suddenly this 6’ tall, 25 year old man/boy, who probably really doesn't look as if he shaves, comes up to us and says, “Can I help you find something?” Heh. He’s probably been instructed, “Women fight in the meat department, you have to break it up before they start throwing hamburger meat at one another.”

Morrigan and I immediately look UP (we’re short) and said, eyes wide open innocent, simultaneously, “Heh. No, we’ve got everything thank you!”

Now this is where she’s a wench. See, a year and a half ago, she and I were in the gym near my folk’s house. We’re doing shoulders and SHE STACKS THE WEIGHT on the shoulder press. I think it’s heavy and I’m in pretty good shape, but she’s cool. It’s my turn and I’m banging out my 15 reps as she stretches her shoulder, and she dislocates it, nearly passing out. Well, they don’t like it when you pass out in a gym, so I get her keys and tell her we’ve got to get to the car. As good luck would have it, a good friend of mine from high school was in the gym working out and saw this happen (I didn’t know he was there) and came over to us. He’s a surgical nurse for this GREAT orthopede in town. He makes a couple calls and we’re in like Flynn with this orthopede, the next day.

I, for some reason am shouldering some of the blame in this incident because a) I am older and b) because I showed her the stretch I do and that’s what she was doing when she dislocated it, so I went with her to the doctor’s appointment. We walk up to the desk, keep in mind, some people think we look very much alike, and the front desk chick says, “Oh, are you mother and daughter?”

Blank stare from me, my sister laughs and says, “Why yes, she's had tremendous amounts of plastic surgery.” Now, when this comes up, as it frequently does she jokes, “Yeah, she had me when she was 10” and I hiss back, “SIX!!! I’m only SIX years older than you!”

OK, now back to Publix today, she has her hair in pigtails. So she says to me after meat man/boy leaves, “I bet he thought I was your daughter. He was thinking, “That Mom is about to beat the sh** out of her daughter.”"

I’m yelling, “HE DID NOT THINK YOU WERE MY DAUGHTER! YOU DO NOT LOOK LIKE MY DAUGHTER!” to which she quietly says, “Oh yes. From a distance, with my pigtails, he probably thought I was your daughter and you were about to pound me.”

Nice, eh? Wench.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:38 PM | Comments (12)

After 1AM, Functionality is Questionable

When it’s the wee hours of the morning, 1AM, 2AM, and on, it can take me awhile to get my bearings. It’s best I don’t do anything at that time that requires any deep thinking if I’ve been roused from sleep. Deep thinking includes having to identify which child is at my bedside.

It is not uncommon for a child to show up at 2AM, not feeling well or needing something, and I open my eyes as best I can, my eyes feeling as if I have sandpaper eye lids, and for me to say, “Wait. Before you start. Who are you? Which boy?"

I can’t identify them that early. They look the same to me. Short hair, 2 eyes, 1 nose, 1 mouth and ears that poke out a bit. They’re the same height give or take 2 inches from the middle boy.

It appears I cannot address their ailments that early either. Three nights ago I was awakened by my 10 year old, tears streaming down his face as his ear hurt. I jumped out of bed and got him Motrin and a heating pad, and then lay with him on the couch until the meds kicked in and he fell asleep. (He has a massive ear infection.)

Last night, 4:30AM, a boy appears at my bedside. Finding out it was Son#2, he told me his ear hurt, so I jumped up and got him Motrin, pulling him into bed with me and then thinking the entire time, “OK, I have to move my day around. I need to take him to the doctor for his ear. That’s not going to go away since Son#1’s ear drum was nearly ruptured by the time I got him in (12 hours from first ache to visit). I wonder what time the doctor’s office opens on a Saturday… we’ll have to do the beach in the afternoon now… wait, I have 15 people coming for dinner tonight and tomorrow night… I have to go to Publix… I have to go get my ham… I wonder what time the doctor’s office opens?”

At 8AM, I roll over and say to my husband, “I have to call the pediatrician’s office since Son#2 has an ear infection.”

“Ear infection?” he asked. “Are you sure? I thought he said his stomach hurt.”

“Nope, it’s an ear infection. That’s what he told me. I gave him Motrin”, I replied.

“Hmm. Ok…” was the last answer.

I swung my feet over the bed, got out and puttered out to Son#2, who is now up and about. I asked him how his ear was feeling.

“My ear? My ear is fine, Mom. My stomach is better too.”

Too? Turns out it was his stomach, not his ear. Phew, good thing it wasn’t something REALLY serious…

Posted by Boudicca at 10:29 PM | Comments (3)

March 25, 2005

Most Excellent Reads

Two posts have stuck in my head this week... posts that made me think.

One of my favorite thought provoking bloggers, Jack of Random Fate, has THIS post. It is an excellent post entitled, "Some Thoughts on Life, Death, and the Tragedies of Absolutes."

I am apt to tell people of myself, "I am not binary, 0s or 1s. It is not black and white to me." And the below paragraph just kind of hit me... as did the rest of what he wrote.

Life is not black and white, nor is it shades of grey; life is an infinity of colors. If we see only in black and white, in absolutes, we suffer the tragedy of ignoring the whole, of not appreciating the true beauty inherent in all life.

My blog brother _Jon posted this at his other site, Through the Looking Glass. I think you will find it to be so very true... I've met _Jon and trust me when I say he is a wonderful man.

A person with no family or friends may land in rock and be destroyed, or the bottom may have mud and muck that drags and sucks the person down again, preventing an escape and recovery.

But a person with many who love them can fall from a great height, into a deep valley, but will be supported, floated, propped-up. The tides will pull and tug, but the love of family and friends will help sustain a person in need.

Take a look at both posts. I think you'll be glad you did.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:36 PM | Comments (1)

I Hate it When this Happens

Just three things from this week that have stuck in my head:

I hate it that I cannot find Peeps or Cadbury eggs and it is Friday night, so that means now on Saturday, the DAY BEFORE EASTER I will have to scrounge around looking for Peeps and Cedbury eggs. That pisses me off that my grocery store hasn't had them. Who doesn't carry peeps?! And it's Cadbury Egg season! Give me a break! I hate that!

I hate when I forget I have put a load of laundry in... for two days... and it sours and I have to rewash it. That happens more than I care to admit. GRRR.


I hate it when I catch my oven on fire. I am sure it would help if I cleaned it. Ever. (No comments from my mother allowed. Yes, this may be bloggable material.) Anyway. I hate it when that happens. The oven catching on fire thing. Bah!

Posted by Boudicca at 11:16 PM | Comments (12)

Carnival of the Recipes

Donna B of Pajama Pundits has this weeks GREAT Carnival of the Recipes HERE.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:11 PM | Comments (0)

What Would YOUR Mug Say?

We were at my sister in law's tonight for dinner and she broke out the coffee mugs and the one she handed me said, "Life is short. Buy the shoes."

I immediately thought of blogsisters Tammi and Teresa. They need to own that mug.

My mug would read, "Life is short. Eat the cake."

What would yours say?

Posted by Boudicca at 11:07 PM | Comments (15)

Sister Time Together...

.... consists of painting fingernails and toenails and playing late night games of Scrabble.

Something is inherently wrong with the fact that I can use 6 of my 7 letters, spelling out words like VIOLINS and get all of 15 points and she puts down a stupid wimpy word like CAD and gets the same amount. That should be illegal. Forget the stupid triple word scores.

There should be some caveat, "You can only get the full value of the Triple word score if your word has more than 4 letters and has a pain in the neck letter to get rid of like 'v', 'j', 'z', 'q' etc. Words like CAD get full single letter values."

Yeah. If Boudicca were Queen...

Posted by Boudicca at 11:03 PM | Comments (3)

A Retort for His Gnomeness

OK, folks, I'm not really getting how blog son, Contagion became such an expert on Gnomes. I mean, is there a field of study in college for this? And if so, was it some blow off class like Rocks for Jocks that I missed?

He knows so much... even the fact that gnome babies are about the size of a pencil eraser when born. I don't know. I just can't figure it out.

So while I am insistent that my Gnomette is in fact a female, he is siting book and verse that in fact my Gnomette is a male Gnome... a pre-op Transgender gnome.

He seems to be speaking from great experience so it is making me wonder a couple things... is Contagion in fact, part Gnome? I know he didn't get it from MY side of the blogosphere, but maybe from Grau or Harv? Or perhaps it is just some genetic mutation... he just became a tiny bit Gnome.

But then there is the thought that maybe he isn't part Gnome, but has some sort of Gnome fetish. Could it be he tried to get to know Gnomette in the *ahem* Biblical sense, hence he has this extensive knowledge that she is not a she, but a he?

I don't know... I just have to question... Hmmm....

Posted by Boudicca at 10:58 PM | Comments (3)

March 24, 2005

Truth About Gnomes... Rebuttal

Damn, brat. My blogson Contagion, is giving me a ration of garbage, accusing Gnomette of being a pre-op transgender gnome. He even has a multi-paragraphed essay directed at MY gnome and its sex. As in, what sex is it, not whether or not it partakes in the activity.

Oh he carries on so. You get his whole sordid version about gnomes, their sexuality, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen gnomes, you name it, and he’s covered the bases.

He is showing his true colors here… my blogson, Contagion. This nastiness directed at his blogmother/sister is obviously taken from his fathers, Grau and Harvey. Grau is currently dismembering Fred the Gnome on his site and Harvey... well... he's just Mr. Bad Example. Orneriness such as this does NOT come from MY side of the family! Humpf!

I will now refute my blogson’s theory that Gnomette, who he calls Fredwina, is actually a lazy/sober gnome looking for a sex change so he can get a lot of sex.

So let’s go over the KNOWNS, shall we?

Knowns from Contagion:

    Gnomettes are pregnant for 6 years.

    They are pregnant, frequently.

    They are NOT pregnant for all of 5 months out of their lives.

    Their feet swell to twice their regular size during pregnancy.

    Males and females don’t interact… females tend the home, men play.

Knowns from Boudicca, who has birthed three children, carrying to full term each time + some.

    The last month of pregnancy sucks.

    Feet swelling makes one grouchy.

    Three pregnancies is enough.

    Husbands can be made nearly as miserable as their wives during pregnancy… of course I was never nasty to my husband in the last month!

So… now for some reasoning for the Gnomes.

From what I know from Contagion in addition to what I know from personal experience, it must be THE LIFE to be a frickin’ male lazy/sober gnome.

    They sit around and do NOTHING and since women want sex ALL THE TIME, they get it whenever they happen upon one.

    They don’t have to be pregnant... let alone pregnant virtually their ENTIRE LIVES! (Man, that would totally rot.)

    Since females and males NEVER interact, they don’t even have to be supportive during this horrible 6 year gestation period with severe feet expansion. They have to do NOTHING.

    They get to party all the time, while the women raise the kids.

Now, looking at my LIST, why in the heck would any gnome WANT to be a gnomette? If anything, my dear sweet (but very ugly according to my sister) gnomette should want to be a lazy shiftless no good scoundrel gnome!

Hence, Gnomette is just that, a girl gnome.

Nice try, Contagion. I win.

Love and Hugs, Mom/Sister

Posted by Boudicca at 10:39 PM | Comments (4)

Box Contents... Revealed

Speechless. I opened the box and just stood there. Looking. Into it. What in the hell???

She was right, never in a million years would I have guessed.

First, the meat slicer? The base is that olive green from the 70s. Definitely 70s. But in the box… my friends, there was a meat grinder. I feel fairly certain upon holding it in my modern day girl hands, that it was a wedding gift. My folks got married in 1962. From what I understand, from other contents, we can now… make our own sausage.

Hold me back. Forget my wondering what in the hell to make every day for dinner, I’m going to just sit down and make my own sausage… after I slice my own luncheon meat…

Holy crap.

I pulled out these copper things and looked at my sister, eyebrow raised, she shook her head and said, “Jello molds”. Oh. I remember those! They hung on our wall for awhile when I was a kid. I’m trying to remember if she actually ever made jello in them…

Morrigan said, “You only got two molds, I got three. See this? It’s one of Dad’s fruitcake pans. I have a WHOLE bunch of those… because you know… I make SOOOO much fruitcake.” Rolling her eyes.

She deserves the fruitcake pans. Everyone in the family knows that fruitcake making was something she and The Great Omnipotent One did… although I must confess, TGOO did it willingly… she was slave labor for egg beating. Ahhh… good memories.

I guess he got out of the fruitcake business. Too bad.

So I continued to forage into the box, past the sausage maker, past the meat grinder, past the jello molds and fruitcake pan and I came upon a bag. The only thing I could see was white yarn.

I’m holding the bag, going through it and NONE of it looks like something I ever owned. Morrigan is starting to laugh now. “What IS this stuff?” I asked, as I’m holding knitting needles and patterns to needlepoint pillows.

“Oh, Mom thought that maybe you’d like to take up knitting. I told her, “oh… you mean in her spare time?!””. Mom replied, “But it’s really in again.” And my sister, the wench says, “Who do you think she is, Julia Roberts?”


So I now have all the old patterns to the needlepoint pillows my Mom made, I even have part of a pillow I can finish should I be so inclined, I have knitting needles from when she used to knit, I have her jello molds, and TGOO’s fruit cake pan, I have a meat grinder to go with my meat slicer, and a sausage maker, circa 1962.

The meat slicer, grinder, and sausage maker may not stay around long… but I know already, the jello molds, fruitcake pan, needlework patterns and knitting needles will stay. Forever.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:56 PM | Comments (9)

I'm Not THAT Talented!

In my Bacon Candle post comments I said something about it being a candle that smelled like a heart disease and one my commenters said something about it… and well… it reminded me of a story. (surprise)

I believe it was 9 years ago, I was out at Long Beach on business… I was working with McDonnell Douglas who is now Boeing. A male co-worker, who, by the way, I work with again now at my new job, and I were meeting with a site manager for our program out there to discuss some ‘issues’.

Our meetings lasted all day and the site manager was with us most of it. I spent a lot of time taking it in as my co-worker knew the manager personally. The manager was a big guy, and I mean as in he needed to lose some serious weight. He also smoked like a chimney. Looking back, I do believe he was probably in late 40s or early 50s, but he looked a good 10-15 years older.

My co-worker and I went for a walk after dinner that night and I said to him, referring to the manager, “He’s got heart disease. I give him 5 years and he’s history.” I didn’t think anything of it. I had been watching the man ALL day. He looked horrible. I continued, “He's a mess. Too bad. He seems like a nice guy.”

Finally my co-worker looked at me and said, “What am I going to die of?”

Wha? I looked over and said, “Pardon me?”

“WHAT am I going to die of? You know what he’s going to die of so I want to know what I’m going to die of.” he replied.

He was serious. Totally serious. He thought I had this 6th sense where I could tell what fate would meet each person. Can you imagine, sitting at a business meeting, looking across the table and instead of seeing the people you see, “Cancer, stroke, heart attack, hit by a bus…” Blech.

I’ve been called the Celtic Witch, but trust me, it is not for the talent of foreseeing the end of others.

I stopped our walking, turned to him and said, “I cannot tell what people are going to die from. I only know by looking at him. His circulation is poor… look at his hands. He is short of breath. His color is gray. He smokes. He eats worth crap. It was deductive reasoning. I hope I am wrong, but I fear I am not.”

A year later, the manager had lost 50 pounds and quit smoking. They say he looked great. I think someone got hold of him… like a doctor… and put the fear of God into him.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:52 PM | Comments (4)

March 23, 2005


Via Blog Father Harvey of Bad Example, who is following the lead of Nick of Nickqueen, our Blog Bro, Chuck, over at Class Mishaps has gone on vacation and left a Gnome to guard his blog. Bah! A Gnome!

So we are stealing Gnome and bringing him back with us... leaving notes in the comment section. HERE

I toodled on over there to take a gander at "Fred" and thought Fred needed some help before he came to visit my blog. So I spruced him up a bit... and made him a...

HER!!! Meet Gnomette. Artistic I am not. We leave the comics to the blog bros at Class Mishaps. (They're cartoonishs... really! It's a cartoon blog.)

So she is standing guard here now, instead of there. Feel free to steal Fred and take him to your blog. Just leave a note for Chuck in the comments so he knows where Fred has gone...

Phew... After the Fiona Fiasco, I thought for sure I was going to end up with a GIANT gnome!

Posted by Boudicca at 09:10 PM | Comments (8)

Nice Bod... Brain is Iffy

Manboy has been babysitting for me the last couple days while I’ve been at work and it’s spring break. Oh. He is lovely. Really.

They do things much different when manboy sits. Yesterday I came home and manboy told me they spent most of the day catching crickets. 21 of them to be exact. He helped them. I figure in a couple days we’ll have 21 dead crickets.

So, here’s a humbling story. Manboy got here nice and early, I was finishing up the breakfast dishes. As I’m finishing up, he and I are speaking, like we always do. I tend to be motherly towards him, but he always speaks freely. He waits tables at night at a swanky restaurant here in town while he looks for a job in his field. It appears that last night, 4 college girls came in and were hitting on him, giving him their phone number and trying to get him to go out with them. (He has a girlfriend.)

I’m listening and I look up and say, “You know, I am so surprised this does not happen to you more often. Really. I would think stuff like this happens to you every day.”

He makes a face and says, “ohhhh, noooo, not at all. Mainly old people eat at our restaurant. People around 40 or older.”

He never even caught what he said. I just kind laughed.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:52 PM | Comments (6)

Broken Rules

Is it just me or isn’t it some unwritten rule that Moms are supposed to keep the Prom Dress and all Bridesmaids dresses of their daughters, in their homes, until the day they die?

Seriously. I think it’s a rule somewhere. One day, the Mom dies, and the kids come to the house, going through the closets and the daughters find their old prom dresses… the bridesmaids dresses of the first weddings they were in… weddings that occurred while they still lived at home. And they hold up the dresses and reminisce, “Oh, remember so-and-so that you went to prom with? Whatever happened to him?” Or “Oh! I remember that wedding! We all wore red and the dripless candles started to BURN under the air conditioning and big pieces of black wax chunks fell to the floor of the Navy chapel…”

See… that’s what was supposed to happen… in about THIRTY YEARS! But noooo, my Mom sent these dresses to MY house. WITH MY SISTER!

P.S. That's not what was in the box... that comes tomorrow...

Posted by Boudicca at 08:49 PM | Comments (7)

Guess and Guess Again

My frickin’ family. YES, they read my blog.

My sister lives in Atlanta and as I said earlier, she is coming to visit for the weekend. She stopped by my folk’s house to drop off her cat (I have one son allergic to cats and we have a hamster, so cat stays away) and then made her way down here. While stopping at my parent’s house, it seems my folks decided they were going to unload MORE stuff from their home and have her cart it down to me.


They’ve been in his unload mode lately and I have to say… it’s getting old.

So far I know I am getting my prom dress from my Junior Prom, 1982 (if I can get my scanner to work, I’ll scan in a picture of said dress), a box of my grandmother’s 150 year old Bavarian China (I’m cool with that), a meat slicer (more on that), and a box… of mystery stuff. My damn sister won’t tell me what’s in the box. She calls me just now, while on the road, taunting me. You know the Eddie Murphy stand up routine where he plays the kid with ice cream, “I got some iiiiice creaaaam”? And he dances and sings and taunts. Well…. She was doing this to me in her car, but it was “You gottt a booooox!”


She stops in Tallahassee to see her old roommate from college. Her roommate looks in the back of the car and says, “Is that? Is that? Is that a … meat slicer?” “” comes the reply from my nasty little sister. “It is going to D.”

When she told me I was getting a meat slicer, I yelled, “Why in the hell am I getting the meat slicer? Why don’t YOU have the meat slicer?!”

Morrigan said, “Mom said,’well, you know, she has a big family now. She can cut her own meat.’”

Wha?! I shouted at my sister, ‘Oh no no no no, that just means I go to Publix and ASK FOR A FULL POUND OF SLICED MEAT INSTEAD OF A ¼ POUND!” GRRR!

Then I said, “Wait, how old is this damn meat slicer? If I’m 39, and I remember it from High School, it’s gotta be at least 22 years old.”

Morrigan replies, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s the color of the 70s. As far as we know.., THEY GOT IT AS A WEDDING GIFT!!! HAHAHAHA! And it’s YOURS, ALL YOURS!!!!” as she laughs hysterically. Damn wench. (Turns out my grandfather gave it to them one Christmas… but nobody remembers what year…)

A little background info on my family, we have this ‘tradition’ where there are certain items that get hidden from family member to family member. There is this really frickin’ scary Indian doll The Great Omnipotent One played with as a kid that gets hidden in people’s suit cases or in their homes when someone visits. For a long time, a pink plastic flamingo kept getting passed from yard to yard. One year it was a corn pone, that TGOO then encased in plastic as it started to mold while being passed. Then another year it was a peep. I think you catch the tradition here.

So I said to my sister, “I’m packing this meat slicer back in your car before you leave and you can hide it back in their house when you get your cat!”

“Oh no you don’t,” she says, “This huge meat slicer is NOT going to end up like that corn pone or that peep!”

I’m hollering at her again about where in the hell I’m going to put this damn meat slicer and telling her she BETTER tell me what’s in that damn box. She’s laughing saying, “Oh and I don’t even THINK they make meat slicers like this anymore, my friend. Oh no no no. They’re probably considered dangerous and took them off the market. And its yours.” Imitating my mother she is saying, ‘You have a big family now, you can slice your own meat!’

So I have no damn clue what is in this mystery box. She says there is no way I can guess and she cannot wait to see my face.

I guessed, “Love letters from an old boyfriend?” “Wrong. You aren’t even warm.”

“The old vomit bucket from when we were kids? The old blue plastic bucket you threw up potatoes in when we moved from Michigan in 1986?” “Wrong. Mom kept the vomit bucket.”

Finally I said, “What does Dad think about all this? The fact Mom is giving me the old meat slicer? Is he more like ‘Get it the hell out of my house?’” “Exactly”, came the reply.

All I know is, she is 3 hours away. Three hours and I am wondering… what is in that daggum box?

My frickin’ family…. GRRR. BTW, my sister says I can’t post the answer until tomorrow.

Posted by Boudicca at 04:30 PM | Comments (11)

March 22, 2005

Fast Breaking News

I know, I know, you can hardly contain yourself for this big news... but when I checked at 11:15, I was still the Number 1 Google Hit for... Bacon Candle.

That's right folks, I found people searching through google for bacon candles and coming up with my site. I figured, "Oh, I"m sure somewhere on that list, down at the bottom, like I usually am."

Oh, but I was so very very wrong. Imagine my pleasant surprise when I was NOT the bottom. Not even near the bottom. I was in fact NUMBER ONE!

Heh. That's the first thing I've ever been googled for first. I'm so damn proud. I must be on a roll. First I won Stu's photo contest by not only guessing it was a fry pan, but the make and model, and now... now... I am a #1 Google Hit... for bacon candle no less! Whooo Hooo!!!!

The only thing that will make my blogging complete, or near complete, is if I can get just ONE DAMN POINT from Jim. I'm really really hoping he was sharing and not shamming. I WANT TO WIN A POINT!!!! GRRRR!

Posted by Boudicca at 11:32 PM | Comments (5)

Update on VW's Little Man

I have an update to VW’s little man HERE. He hopefully goes home tomorrow.

A short tidbit about last night. VW is still sick with the flu and couldn’t keep anything in her stomach. I asked the nurse if they could give me anything to help her out and they informed me, “No, I’d have to go to the local drugstore” and they gave me directions.

Now, I think I said yesterday that he’s in a great pedo unit, but what I didn’t say is that the hospital is located in a really really bad side of town. I think I have come to believe that if the hospital has the A-1 Trauma Unit, it is probably located in the area of town where most Trauma happens… which is… This hospital has our A-1 Trauma Unit.

So as the nurse is giving directions to get something for VW, I’m thinking, “Oh. This is lovely.”

I got in my car and drove down to the 24 hour Walgreens, which seems to be a neighborhood hang out. Probably because it’s the only shiny clean place in the area. I had my hair down so her Little Man could play with it if he had wanted, but I had been running my fingers through it, so it was stringy. Most of my make up had worn off and I threw my glasses on just to look like the geek I am. I figured I could completely blend at this point. I was doing NOTHING to draw attention to myself.

So I get in there and as I had this bottle of Pepto Bismal in my hand I realized, “Hey! Nobody wants to mess with a chick with a bottle of water and Pepto Bismal in her hands! Who in the heck wants to catch what she’s got?!”

I felt much better then. When the girl at the counter asked me if I wanted a bag, I thought, “I’m carrying that sucker out of here so there is no doubt what I bought.”

Everyone was in their own little world anyway, I had nothing to worry about. Odd how the mind works. I wasn’t packing heat, but felt safer with my little pink bottle.

Posted by Boudicca at 05:57 PM | Comments (2)

Random Thoughts on My Future

Blogson Contagion has a post on where his life has taken him, versus where he thought he’d be. I think it may be one of my favorite posts of his, and I love his blog. It just gives insight into who the person is now, who they were then, and shows how things can change so much.

It is amazing the things that loving your family can do… how it can turn your world upside down, reprioritize your life… and you don’t look back.

Eric of Straight White Guy, answered his 5 questions, and once again you find that meeting the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, changed his priorities. I am sure if you asked him at 18 where he would be now, this is not it, but I KNOW from his blog, he has no regrets. He made his choices and it was all about family.

It’s odd. I am exactly where I thought I would be, but not living where I thought I would live. I had my “whole life” planned out. That would be to my age now… but then… I never thought past it. Short sided on my part, I am sure. I knew I would grow up to be some sort of scientist, I’d get a good job, find a good man, get married, continue to work, then stay home and have 2.5 children and a dog. OK, so I got 3 children and a hamster, but it’s pretty much the same. But I never thought past that. I figured I'd go back to work at some point... but that was it.

Now I am at that point, and my kids are going to school and I’m again working outside the home, and I’m wondering, what comes in 10 years? It is time for me to start planning. My goals cannot depend on their getting married and having children… I can’t have my sites set on someone else’s life. I am independent, I am me.

I think about it a lot. I feel certain I will move. I will not stay here in S. Florida. As I’ve stated before, I am not happy in this part of the country. There is one season, HOT, and the people here are transplants and are rude, and our roads are becoming more and more overcrowded. I am making plans. It gives me hope that I have goals still. I hear the mountains calling my name. I will not make it in 10 years (I’ll still have kids at home), but I will in 15.

It is odd to look at my life and not have definitive ‘goals’ as I’m a goal and task oriented person. I know the company I work for, although a good group of people, is not something I can make a permanent part of my life. I’ll never voluntarily make a job a permanent part of my life again.

I was talking to a guy who works for the same company, he was one of my last co-workers at my old job before they closed the plant. I was standing in his cube and other than the Simpson’s calendar he had, he had NOTHING in his cube that said anything about him. Just like mine.

I said, “Hmm. Look at this. We could swap cubes and it wouldn’t matter.”

He replied, “All I have to do is pick up my keys and leave. I have seen the light. All those others that went to CT with the old company, they are all still brainwashed. They still don’t get it.”

My last reply was, “I was forced to swallow the red pill, there is no going back.”

In reality, their pulling the rug out from us shoved the red pill down my throat. I was content to be hooked up to IV drip of the blue pill. My job may not have been my life, but it was always a deciding factor in all that I did. Never again. Now I just have to find my way, figure out what is next, what I want to do… I have just over 10 years. What do I want to do when my kids I grow up?

Posted by Boudicca at 05:53 PM | Comments (8)

March 21, 2005

I Don't Ask For Much...

But I am asking now.

You see in my side bar, my blogchildren? VW of One Happy Dog Speaks has been one of my closest girlfriends for nearly 20 years. We didn't meet on the internet... we went to college together. I love her damn near like a sister. We do breakfast every week and catch up... griping about kids, husbands, and life in general. We laugh a lot, eat a lot, and all around have a good time. It is something we both look forward to.

That said, she is going through a rough time right now. Her liittlest man, who is almost 18 months old was admitted to the hospital today. I am guest posting for her and you can read about it HERE.

What I am asking for you, is to keep her and her little man in your prayers tonight... and fill up her comments with positive thoughts. It's the little things that see us through the gray times. If you could do this for me... I would be ever so appreciative.

I am leaving in an hour to take her dinner and hang with her tonight. I am hoping that I can convince her little man to lean on me while she sleeps. Considering he pretty much still thinks I'm evil since I'm not Mom, I'm thinkin' the chances are remote. I'm hoping though...

So positive thoughts, please, and some comments in her comment section. It'll do her heart good.

Posted by Boudicca at 06:15 PM | Comments (3)

March 20, 2005

Jason Times Three

As I stated yesterday, my sister is coming in town. She’s the Aunt my boys can’t get enough of. I should never have told them she was coming. Already Bones is carrying on, “mom, mom, mom, how many days until Aunt comes, huh, Mom, huh?’’ GRRR.

She comes every Easter. When she arrives, she brings with her a big birthday gift that all the boys can share. One big gift, all the boys. This year, she calls and informs me she is buying them…. a hockey goal with sticks and balls. She did ask me if I thought puck or ball would be better and given I know how hard a puck is, having attended a few hockey games, I told her ‘ball’. I didn’t realize the ball was just a spherical equally dense version of the puck, just as hard... it just rolls instead of glides.

She is over the top excited about this gift. I live on a cul de sac and she’s picturing the goal at the end of the cul de sac, my three boys, each with stick, each with ball, having a grand old time. She’s so excited, she’s talking about going out and buying her OWN stick so she can play too. She said, “Hey! Want me to get you a stick?” My reply was, “uhhh. No.”

See, here is the difference. The Aunt is seeing fun, fun, fun, love, bluebirds, and happiness as three boys run all over knocking their own ball into a goal.

Mom is seeing… "she has armed my children.”

That’s right folks, I’m seeing my own special rendition of Friday the 13th playing itself out in my cul de sac. I can add all the screaming girls (all our neighbors are girls) and we’re completely set. We just need a few masks.

Three boys, three hockey sticks…. I’m envisioning more trips to the ER. Luckily she got each of them their own ball so there won’t be fighting over the hockey ball, but trust me, without a shadow of a doubt, on MY street, I will get to watch as a nice game of hockey turns into a melee, just like on TV.

This is what I'm going to hear, as blood is pouring out of someone's face:

"He hit me with his stick!" "I didn't mean to hit him, he stepped in the way!"

"He hit me with his ball!" "I didn't mean to hit him, he stepped in the way."

"My brudders hit me at the same time with their sticks!" "We didn't mean to hit him, he stepped in the way."

See a pattern here? You've heard of hit and run? This will be hit and denial.

And she didn’t see this coming?

Posted by Boudicca at 08:57 PM | Comments (19)

The Story of the Bacon Candle

OK, my sister is not the one who wants the bacon candle. It’s her boyfriend. As a joke she is hunting for one for him. Every weekend they cook breakfast and the smell of fresh cooked bacon wafts through her condo and he makes mention of the fact he loves the smell of bacon.

It’s something along the lines of, “They make all these great candle scents, why don’t they make a bacon candle? Bacon smells GREAT!”

I told her, “Oh yeah, nothings better than having your home smell like cooking animal fat.”

She said, “Exactly.”

Blech. Men. This is a man thing. This is seriously seriously a man thing.

He said to her this morning, unknowing that she with the great help of Sissy, has actually found a manufacturer of a bacon smelling candle, “You know, I think we could make one of those! We can just take wax and put pockets of bacon grease in there and as it heats up it will smell.”

Silence from my sister as she is taking this all in. Finally she says, “Yeeeah. We could do that. Tell me, what happens when the flame hits the bacon grease?”

She said he looked at her and said, “Oh. Yeah.”

Whew. Looks like they’re not getting into the bacon candle industry.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:49 PM | Comments (7)

Never Say NO To Pizza

My sister in law, the one married to my husband’s kid brother, they live an hour a way, cracks me up sometimes. Sometimes we do not see eye to eye, but other times, I have to shake my head and laugh.

My sister, Morrigan, is coming to town, but so is my husband’s older sister (they live in NJ), her husband and their three kids. Zoo does not even begin to explain how it is going to be in my life starting on Friday. Eating with the Italian family… forget ever trying to get a word in edge wise. High strung, loud, and emotional… that just about sums it up. Very fun, they are very fun, but it exhausts me. And… my sister in law. It exhausts her too.

Now my sister in law (the one married to his bro) has a 2 year old and works full time as a GM for a major department store. Long hours does not even begin to go into her work schedule. Brutal works well as a description. So now Easter is upon us and the Italian family is coming and she and I are conversing on the phone as to who is doing what and where for meals. There will be 15 at every dinner for the next 5 nights. Keep in mind, BIG time Catholic Italian family (SIL and I are not Italian) and that means BIG dinners for both Good Friday AND Easter.

Other little tidbit of data, I'm the only Non-Catholic in the family, excluding my husband's eldest sister, who is NOT coming, but is a hippy in CA, married to a really weird hippy. Everyone else, married another Catholic.

Okay, so my SIL calls so we can chat about meals. It went something like this:

Me: Wait, are we doing Good Friday here and Easter there?

SIL: No, Good Friday is here and Easter is at your home.

Me: Cool, ‘cuz that whole ‘no meat’ thing on Friday was wiggin’ me out. I couldn’t figure out what in the hell I was going to make.

SIL: Oh, I’ve got that covered. You do Easter, I’ll do the meal with no meat on Friday.

Me: Well, let me bring something for Meatless Friday. It’s not fair you have to do it all.

SIL: OK, you bring fruit. I have no clue what I’m making.

Silence on the phone as we’re both thinking. I break the silence and say, “Easter is honey baked ham, cheese grits, homemade carrot cake and something appley. I’m set… other than veggies.”

SIL: Oh, I’ll bring green bean casserole and my fatouche salad for Easter then. That covers your veggies.

Me: Oh, that’s great and all I’m bringing is fruit salad on Meatless Friday?

SIL: I think I decided what we’re having. Don’t sweat it. Just bring fruit salad. We’re having pizza. I’m ordering take out. Cheese pizza… no meat.

Me (laughing very hard): What? We’re going to have cheese pizza for Meatless Friday dinner? Holy crap. That works. I’m all over pizza.

SIL, who is very obstinate and has just made up her mind that we are in fact, having PIZZA for Good Friday dinner: Yeah, pizza and ice cream. We’ll use your fruit salad for topping. I’ll get some chocolate sauce and caramel and Redi Whip. We’re there.

OH… we are oh so there. My father in law is going to have a frickin’ FIT! I am laughing so hard. This is great. I can hardly wait for Good Friday now.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:41 PM | Comments (9)

March 19, 2005

Little Boys and New Haircuts

My boys just got their haircut. When my boys get their hair cut, their cheeks seem to stand out more, screaming, “Kiss me!” They are so smoochy right now! In particular, since they had field day on Friday, their cheeks are all rosey, making them that much more smoochable.

The two younger boys love me smothering them in big kisses. My eldest will let me smooch his cheeks, if nobody is around. He prefers to just take my hand and put it on top of is head. He keeps his hair short, in a crew cut. (I keep pushing for a high and tight, but he says no.) Due to the crew cut, his head is fuzzy. It seems all the girls keep touching his head at school. When I asked him if the girls do this, he rolled his eyes, grinned, and said, “Yeah.” Hmm. He didn’t seem upset by it.

He also has two small spots where hair isn’t growing. I keep putting my finger in those spots and saying to my husband, “Was there a head injury when he was little that I don’t remember?” I mean, why else would there be patches with no hair growth? So I keep teasing my 2nd son, who keeps his hair cut short, but with a nice ¼ inch taper, that we need to shave his head to see if he has any bald patches. He’s not taking me up on it.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:24 PM | Comments (9)

Watch Out World

My sister is coming to visit next week. I feel kinda bad for my husband. My sister and I getting together is like something out of the movies. She is such a nut. I know I’ve written about this before, but she can get me to laughing so hard, that I can do nothing but try desperately to suck in air as I cry and pee my pants. She’s a complete lunatic. I’m the sanity of the two of us. Heh.

When I was at the theater, I saw the previews for Miss Congeniality 2 with Sandra Bullock. You know how Sandra's a nut in those movies? Funny things happen? Yeah, that’s my sister. Well, kinda me at times too… but mostly her.

I’m looking forward to her visit. So are my boys. And if she is reading this, “LEAVE THE BACON CANDLE AT HOME!!!”

Posted by Boudicca at 09:22 PM | Comments (3)

I'm More Excited than They Are

I took the kids to see The Pacifier this weekend. They really enjoyed it.

I, however, cannot wait to see Madagascar. Every time I see the previews I start to laugh. I have to sit next to Son#1 when we go. He and I have the same sense of humor and we will laugh together through the entire movie.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:19 PM | Comments (1)

Bigger is Better... Again

Son#3, Bones, got bitten by Fiona this evening. Just a little bite on the arm, but seriously, you would think the kid had been shot. Drama King he is.

I was teasing him to try to get him to quit crying. I said, “Did she see you sitting there and see you with your big boy haircut, looking so smoochy and think, “Oh! I gotta have a piece of that boy!” and leap over and bite you?” “No”, was the sob, with a little grin.

“Oh, then, did she just think you smelled yummy, and so her teeth grew five feet long and she pushed them over and bit you?”, I asked again. “No”, was the lesser sob, with a little grin.

Now folks, this is a pinprick. The thing is hardly bleeding. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt, I’m just saying there is no reason for theatrics and the vast quantity of weepage I was seeing.

So finally I leaned over and said, “Tell you what, why don’t you get me a band aid and I’m sure it’ll fix it up.” Instant smile, love love love, blue birds and happiness, all is right with the world.

He comes back with three. To choose from. Of different sizes. There is the small one, that is just right. There is the middle one, that would suffice, but seriously, is really too big. Then of course, there is that big butt band aid that would cover the entire side of his face… that he is fully expecting he should wear for this injury.

What is it… even at this age, bigger is better. GEEZ. I see it ALL.THE.TIME.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:17 PM | Comments (6)

I won! I won!

I never win any contests. Of course… it would help immensely if I ACTUALLY entered. As a mathematician with way too many credits in statistics, however, I have a difficult time entering contests like… say… the lottery. Odds like that just aren’t worth it.

No. I did not win the lottery.

I won an ‘identify the picture’ contest over at Stu’s of Contemplation. That’s right, he posted a picture and I knew what it was. Immediately.

What does this say about me? It says I cook too much and we need to go out and eat more.

Oh, no prize. Just the self satisfaction that I won my first contest. Whooo Hooo. Look out lottery! Here I come!

Posted by Boudicca at 09:13 PM | Comments (1)

March 18, 2005

Tammi in FIVE Questions

Blog sister Tammi, or as Johnny Oh likes to call her "Tammilicious", has given me her answers!

I have to tell you, I was nervous about posting this. It's Q1's answers that had me jittery. Keep it safe, folks. Keep it safe.

And for those of you not in the know, Tammi has become a very very dear friend. We talk all the time, and when we don't, while I'm blogging, the first thing I do is jump on her blog. I gotta have that dose of Tammi.

Tammi's Questions:

1) If you had to give up Caffeine or Cigs, which would you pick?

Actually - I'll be giving up cigarettes when I move. **can't post this at my site, but I know it's safe here** Mom has had to quit and it's only fair that I do. BRACE YOURSELF WORLD!!!

2) Some people consider High School their ‘Glory Days’ while others consider ‘College’. At this point in your life, if you were to pick your ‘Glory Days’, the time you were happiest and feeling GREAT, when would it be?

Actually my Glory Days were right after I left college. High School was horrible. I was so tall, and so different...not fun, not fun at all. Hell - I attended a Mennonite College, got put on probation My.First.Day. No - no glory there. But when I left college...ahhhhh...I was in a band for about a year. Traveling around and playing horrible places for no money. Living Large!! And then I started really focusing on my modeling and started to make money. It was a blast. Good Times. Then I got married.........

3) If you were to pick the qualities required for the perfect partner, what would they be?

= / > 6'. LOL Honestly - it's really more than that. Humor. VERY IMPORTANT. I find laughter and humor very sexy. Strength - both mentally and physically. I'm strong minded and I need someone who can handle that. Physically - it makes me feel safe. Not a feeling I'm used to. Honesty, values and morals. Goes without saying. And tolerance. My family is very important to me...and they are "different". Very religious, very loving and caring and sorta busy-bodyish. I need someone that understands the importance of family and loving unconditionally. You know the old saying - love me. Love my family (and friends)

4) Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

Facing the bed the left side. HERE. At Moms, the right side. closest to the door. But honestly I'm pretty flexible there (dang it, where's that quote pen when we need it!) LOL

5) Are you a phobe about anything and if so, what? (Ummm... other than snakes...)

Phobia? Hmm.....honestly - it's failure. I'm am scared to death to fail. It's been the driving force for the last 13 years of my life. I'm not afraid of heights, not afraid to fly, not afraid of water. Yeah - I'm so afraid to fail, that I'm very careful what I try. Silly isn't only live once.

So there you have it folks. Tammi in 5 Questions!

Posted by Boudicca at 11:55 PM | Comments (4)

Sticking With an Irish Theme

Blog daughter Sissy at And What Next had this picture. I consider it a famous picture since I get it a couple times a year, and I had to post on this.

Her comment was "Sucks to be these guys".

Oh... no... she is so very wrong. They LOVE that kind of stuff. They love the fact that people squeal, "oh! They really DON'T wear anything under their kilt!" or the whole shock factor thing.

Now I am generalizing of course, some of course would be embarrassed, but it has not been my experience.

And now... from the peanut gallery I hear, 'Oh yea, Bou, how would you know? What is your experience?'

To which my reply is, "Jump back, Jack, because I played the pipes in a pipe band for 3 years and my Dad is a great piper." So there.

The pipers (and drummers) LOVE to joke about what is under their kilts. But what I said over at Sissy's and decided to post here is... the best part of that picture is THE STORY THEY GET TO TELL LATER!

That is right, that story will get repeated over and over for years for I have heard equally funny stories... such as the one in tne extended entry.

I played in a local band for three years. They taught me the pipes, got me suited up and I played. Now I was not a good piper. Having played and marched for years in a damn good Marching Band (MBA Grand National Champions in 1981), I had no issues with marching and playing. I just had a hard time keeping the bag filled. Truly, it was a bear for me. But I did it and the guys accepted me and were very kind. I was the youngest by many years and one of only two women. (We marched 14 pipers at one point.)

One of my instructors was a great piper, a Scotsman, but he was growing old and crippled. He LOVED to tell us stories about when he piped in the big bands, the MASS bands in parade for St. Patricks's Day in Chicago. He was a modest one, you had to know him to understand, quite the modest one, and he did in fact wear underwear under his kilt.

One of his favorite stories was the time the elastic broke on his underwear as he was in a big Parade and I do believe it was St. Paddy's Day. He said with horror he could slowly feel his underwear sliding down his hips. Every time the bands stopped, he'd try to feel it through his kilt to get it back up. Finally, he could fight gravity and broken band no longer, and he said as the underwear slipped down his legs, he just stepped out of it and kept on marching, leaving his underwear behind.

Can you even imagine being the spectator to THAT???

Posted by Boudicca at 11:50 PM | Comments (2)

Even As An Adult, I Can't Keep Up

My next door neighbor asked me the other day if I'd be interested in walking at night. I was all over that. I have got to shed that remaining poundage and walking will help, especially now that the dojo closed and I'm not taking Karate.

She's a great woman. I really like her. She has three kids like I do, is bright , and funny. She's also 5'10". Walking with her is like... well... it's like she's walking and I'm running along side.

Do you think for a minute I'm going to say, "Wait, we have to slow down! Your stride is 3X longer than mine!" Oh, no, no, no, no. I am bound and determined to keep up. Dammit.

The first quarter mile my legs are moving as fast as they can, so in seeing how fast my legs are moving, she moves hers FASTER.

Holy crap. I thought I would die.

Posted by Boudicca at 11:07 PM | Comments (5)

Sometimes It is Better Not to Think

I worked a full day today to make up for the time I missed during the week while staying home with sick kids. I’m amazed at how lost I get in my work when I don’t have the constant pressure of knowing I have to get my kids at 2 and that I have to compress 8 hours into 5. At 5:00 I was stunned it was time to go home for dinner. (My husband had the kids.)

Anyway, something completely grossed me out today. I was standing in the handicap stall of the women’s restroom, washing my hands, when I took notice of a manila folder taped to the inside door of the stall. Now working for a government contractor, we have the potential to get audited by a government agency at any time. Time and contract audits are a pain, but a fact of life. At any given moment, you must be able to account for all your time down to 6 minutes, be able to identify where you got your charge number, and where the orders are for your work. It is what it is and I’ve been doing it so long, it doesn’t even phase me.

So, in this manila envelope, was a little blue book that someone had written on, in pen, ‘Do not remove’ as in ‘Don’t remove from this stall’ not as in ‘Don’t read’. It is obvious they wanted people to read it. It was a little blue book on government compliance.

Someone thought this was a good idea to put one of these in each stall for casual restroom reading?

OK, folks, I have to tell you, this casual restroom reading thing is not something that I have ever witnessed women practicing at work. Perhaps for men, this is a different story, but whenever I’ve been in our restroom, we women don’t loiter. We get in and get out.

I’m not trying to be crude, I’m just telling you how it is at my place of work. So this is kind of lost on me.

And… even if this was something we women practiced, I guaranDAMNtee you, that I would NOT touch one of those little blue books. Blech! Just the thought of all the germs on that thing. It made me want to vomit just thinking about it. Someone picks it up, sits down, does their business, puts it back… Ugh. Blech. Yuck. *shudder*


Posted by Boudicca at 11:02 PM | Comments (5)


I was talking to my sister about my cube at work last night. There is NOTHING in my cube that identifies it as mine, other than a large yellow sticky someone taped to the door of my book shelf that has written my name in marker. That is all. No pictures of my kids. No pictures of my family. Nothing decorative. Not even a flowery box of tissues. Nothing, Nada, Zippo.

It’s so barren, that I keep having to remind myself to go out and buy a pencil holder. I have 3 different color pens, 2 mechanical pencils, 2 different color highlighters and I have them lined up next to each other on my desk at the end of every day. (During the day, they’re thrown all over.)

On my walls, I have a 3 foot schematic of our product, 1 picture of the end user, a calendar and yellow sticky notes with phone numbers all over them.

On my desk, graph paper, blueprints, and notebooks.

That is it. Nothing says “Woman!”. Nothing says, “Mom!” Nothing says, “Wife!”

My old cube wasn’t like that. At my last job I had pictures of my kids, my husband, my nieces and nephews. I had pictures kids had drawn for me, trinkets that friends had given me, my computer had crap on it.

Now don't get me wrong. I am enjoying my new job (I do get bored), and this company I am working for is ten times better than the last company I worked for. Case in point, I haven't witnessed anyone die of a heart attack at work here. That's always a bonus. The new company is GREAT to their employees. It is very laid back and casual, yet deadlines are met and people work hard.

My sister says this lack of decor in my cube is because I only work 10-15 hours and I don’t ‘live’ there like the average employee. I think its because I refuse to ever get attached to another place of employment. Never again will I allow my soul to be owned by a company. Never again will I let them in. If they tap me on my shoulder and say, “Games up. You’re outta here”, I’ll pick up my keys and walk. Nothing in there needs to go home with me.

Nothing in my home is indicative of what I do at work. Nothing. The two parts of my life do not meet, they do not bleed on one another, they are mutually exclusive.

I intend to keep it that way.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:57 PM | Comments (6)

March 17, 2005

The Wearing of the Green

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all those who celebrate. From The Great Omnipotent One, who is very much into our family history, I received a great run down of all the Irish in our family, on both my maternal and paternal sides, summed up with the following paragraph:

“If you shook our family tree numerous Irish men and women would fall out, some well known in the Old country, some who probably left the Emerald Isle just ahead of the law, and others who left because of abject poverty. They're all part of us. So today we acknowledge our Irish ancestors who helped develop this country and who helped get us where we are today.”

While I celebrate St. Patrick's day by pretty much, not-celebrating, TGOO is with his bagpipe band playing gigs all night.


Posted by Boudicca at 08:07 PM | Comments (4)

Questions for Tammi

I know Tammi too well. I had to really think… and now that we know Cody has a Napoleon complex, that whole ‘if Cody were reincarnated, who would it be?” was just a GIVEN!

Tammi's Questions:

1) If you had to give up Caffiene or Cigs, which would you pick?

2) Some people consider High School their ‘Glory Days’ while others consider ‘College’. At this point in your life, if you were to pick your ‘Glory Days’, the time you were happiest and feeling GREAT, when would it be?

3) If you were to pick the qualities required for the perfect partner, what would they be?

4) Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

5) Are you a phobe about anything and if so, what? (Ummm... other than snakes...)

Tammi will send me her answers and I will post them… verbatim!

Posted by Boudicca at 08:03 PM | Comments (0)

I Think We Push Too Hard

When I was a sophomore in high school, I took Geometry. I nearly failed it. I think I averaged a D at some point. There were three reasons: 1) I didn’t know how to study, 2) I truly had the crappiest teacher in the world (and she looked like Yoda, no kidding) and 3) I just flat out didn’t get it. Algebra? Straight A’s. Analytical Geometry? A’s. Trigonometry? A’s. Plain Geometry? C’s and D’s.

The Great Omnipotent One having his BS in Engineering and MS in Operations Analysis spent many a night going over theorems, axioms and proofs. I had my own built in tutor and still… I could not pass. (A C was failing in our family. Smart kids don’t get C’s). And… he did NOT get it. Neither did I.

Flash forward to college. I received my BS in Applied Mathematics and graduated with a very very nice GPA, I studied like hell, into the wee hours of the morning, lived in my professor’s offices if I didn’t get it, and did find I had a knack.

By my senior year in college, I was asked to work in the Math Lab, tutoring kids in their various courses. I would say 90% of the kids we got were freshman, struggling in College Algebra. I made it my mission that any kid who came in not ‘getting it’ would most definitely have a good grasp when they left my tutelage. I drew pictures, used different colors, pilfered pens and erasers from neighboring classrooms to try to help them see quantities… I did everything but stand on my head. For the most part, I was successful. I was even asked once to sit in on a graduate student’s classes… one that TAUGHT a College Algebra class during the day to see if she was in fact part of the problem. She was.

Also, my senior year, a little girl in the neighborhood needed tutoring in Plain Geometry and the mother called and asked me if I would take her on. With great trepidation I said yes. TGOO kept telling me that I should have faith in myself that I would view it differently… and he was right. I opened up her book, the same damn book I used, and there it popped out at me. The mysteries of the geometric universe suddenly made sense. I could not fathom why I had struggled with this. And try as I might, she failed Geometry for at least two reasons: 1) she had poor study habits and 2) she just DID NOT see it. She may very well have had Yoda as her teacher too, I just don’t remember.

Why am I telling you this story? Because I am a definitive believer in neurological maturity. My brain was not mature enough, for whatever reason, to learn Geometry when I was 15. I just remember sitting in my room, going over all that crap and it was like reading a foreign language. And it didn’t absorb… at all. It is probably why I studied so poorly in it too… I could almost feel the information bouncing off my brain... it is frustrating and unmotivating to study something that seems you cannot grasp, that you cannot envision.

In Palm Beach County, in particular in the private school sector, there is this BIG PUSH, to get kids reading younger and younger. By age four, parents EXPECT their kids should be reading. I can’t figure out if the schools are just answering to the parent’s demands or if in fact the school’s push this because ‘it is private school, and we are better, look your kids read at age 4'’. I do not know.
I do know that most of the kids I know really do struggle to read at age 4. It's not easy. Very rarely do I find that there is a kid seriously ready to read at that age. It is not something I push or I am big on. All of my kids started to read at age 5, in kindergarten. My kids are smart kids, not brilliant kids. They pick things up quickly and easily, which will hurt them eventually as they will acquire poor study habits if I do not work with them.

My third son is learning to read and by some ‘people’s’ standards, they would consider him struggling. But I know better… all my children start out in 1st grade in the middle reading group, just very average readers and by 2nd grade, they are in the highest reading group and my 4th grader is reading way above grade level, probably one of the best readers in his class. AND, he is every bit as good a reader as the kid in kindergarten who ON HIS OWN taught himself to read at age 3. (That’s a whole other funny story.)

I mention this as the person I hired to tutor my 3rd son for the issues that were brought to my attention in October said to me yesterday, ‘I know your kids. It is amazing to me how they just REALLY get it in 1st grade and then they take off. This one is tracking the same exact course.”

Neurological maturity. It is what it is. I refuse to get caught up in the crap around me about pushing pushing pushing. I have to say, it is tough sometimes being the parent and standing up to everyone else, who appear to be in a hurry to get the kids grown up and educated by age 7, and saying, “Leave him alone! He will be fine!” I want my kids to LOVE reading the way I do… not to consider it a chore.

Posted by Boudicca at 07:53 PM | Comments (13)

March 16, 2005

No Clue

I have no clue what I did to my template when I was playing with it tonight.

I am aware its hosed in IE, but it looks fine in Foxfire.

I'm pissed, I'm frustrated, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Screw it.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:56 PM | Comments (4)

Answers to Sissy's Interview

Without further wait... the answers to my five interview questions for my very funny blogdaughter Sissy of And What Next...

1) Was the Spatula in the Oven your single worst cooking disaster and if not, what was?

I would say the Spatula in the Oven is close. I remember when I was about 9, I wanted Macaroni & Cheese and my mom was gone. My dad doesn't even know where the kitchen is. So I put water in a pot..........and put it in the microwave! Yes, I blew up the microwave!

2) What do you want to be when you grow up?

God, I ask myself this everyday! I have absolutely no clue! From age 11 until 19, I wanted to be and studied to be a Music Teacher and/or a conductor. Now I'm kind of tossed up with the "wanting to make a difference" bug and the desire to be successful. I kind of like not knowing what I'm going to be, there are no limits and I can't let myself down if I don't meet a specifc life long career goal. But if anyone has any ideas...I'm open to suggestions!

3) Ok, there had to be one for the guys... thong, bikini, granny or shorty shorts?

Thong all the way....I can't do the rest of those!

4) If Kiki were reincarnated from a past life, who would she be?

I would have to say a mix of two other dogs (I know, oh so original!). I had a dog, Misty, when I was 3, that actually saved me from being attacked by another dog. Very protective. Then, I got another dog, Chesty (after Chesty Puller), when I was 5 and we were in Okinawa, Japan. He was the chow/shephard mutt in the corner and my mom went and got her for me one day when I was home sick puking my guts out. 5 years later, when my parents divorced, they gave my dog to my uncle in Missouri (we were in Georgia) and it ripped my heart out! Not only was my dad leaving, so was my dog! I always wanted him to come back....and he did, as a girl chihuahua 11 years later...go figure!

(SideNote from Bou: OF COURSE it is a GIVEN that a Marine Corps family have a dog named Chesty! That cracked me up!)

5) Who do you admire most and why... as in... who is your personal hero?

This question is just as hard as #2. I don't have one person inparticular...I guess my standards are pretty high. And I think there is a little bit of a difference between who I admire and who my personal hero is.

I would have to say my personal hero is my 11th Grade High School English teacher. She actually has literally saved my life twice. And she's someone I know that is always there if I need matter what, still to this day, it's unconditional.

As for people I admire, I tend to admire strong, independent, real women that make a difference in my life - intentionally or unintentionally. I've been lucky enough to run into a couple.

And there you have it! Tomorrow, I post my questions for Tammi!

Posted by Boudicca at 09:35 PM | Comments (5)

Eye Opener

My kids have been sick for the last two weeks with the flu. I started with Son#2 (T), and has moved to Son#1 (Brown Bear). T was out all last week, sick as a dog. I could not break his fever. Motrin would only bring it down to 100. Soon as it wore off, it spiked back up. This went on for three days, followed by a day of an upset stomach and now he just has congestion.

There is evidently a 1 week incubation as my Brown Bear has it now. My 10 year old is NEVER sick. NEVER. He got sick on Sunday and tomorrow will be his first day back to school. I've NEVER in my life seen him like this. Since Sunday, he has been laying around the house, sleeping and not moving. His fever broke yesterday, he ate tonight for the first time since Sunday.

Today I went in to see his teacher to bring home any work he's been missing. Man teacher told me that last week, of the 60 kids in 4th grade, TWENTY-FIVE were out sick with the flu. We're hitting almost 50% there... I find those numbers scary.

So I was e-maling one of my favorite bloggers, and I was telling him how sick the kids are this year with the flu and he made mention of it giving a whole new view of the fears of the bird flu.

He is so right. I had just read, maybe two weeks ago, about the bird flu, and how scary it is going to be... 70% mortality they think. And it is mutating to a human to human contact... slowly.

They are already vaccines on order through the government. Holy crap. We think this last hysteria over the shortages of vaccines was bad... manomanoman, that AIN'T NOTHIN' if this turns out to be a real, no kidding, threat.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:24 PM | Comments (5)

Out of the Norm

I don't blog politics as a rule. I find political blogs to be stressful as people can be combative and not civil. Everyone claims to be open minded and intelligent until politics comes up and then I have seen some of the most vile diatribe spewed forth. So I figured to avoid that, I would keep this a 'what goes on in the life and head of the crazy lady with the crazy kids' type blog and leave politics alone.

Not tonight. I will attempt to keep this brief. My view on this is NOT up for debate under ANY circumstances. I am intelligent, articulate and have thought about this particular issue for over 20 years and I am steadfast solid in my belief.

I am a believer in Capital Punishment. I am not a finatic, as I am not a finatic about anything. It is not a blanket statement to me, "All convicted murderers must die, open an express lane and get it done". NO. It is a case by case basis with very few instances where I feel it is mandatory and should be swift.

If it is a violent revolting crime against a child... and there is plenty of no kidding evidence... they should fry.

If they are a serial murderer, think Ted Bundy etc... and there is plenty of no kidding evidence... they should fry.

If the crimes are heinous and revolting and make you want to vomit... which involve murder and/or r-ape... and there is plenty of no kidding evidence... they should fry.

I use the word 'fry' loosely as I have no issues with hanging, frying, or firing squad. None. At all. If the crime is that bad that you have pushed ME to the point that I think you must die, and die IMMEDIATELY, then I don't care how it is done. Just make it fast.

As a matter of fact... I'd have no problems pullng that lever myself if the crime is heinous enough. That's right. I said it. Ted Bundy was to fry and I was ready to throw my name in the lottery hat if they were going to pick someone who got to pull that lever. I could do it... in a heart beat. No.Questions.

So... let me tell you where I'm going with this. Brian Nichols needs killin'. Period. If Boudicca were Queen, it would happen tomorrow. He is not a suspect in my eyes. He did it. There were witnesses and to be honest, I don't give a rat's ass if he's insane, if they found out his Mom used to beat him, or the judge reminded him of some psycho abusive teacher he had as a child, giving him flashbacks. I.Don't.Care.

If Boudicca were Queen, he would fry. Tomorrow.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:05 PM | Comments (9)

March 15, 2005

Interview with Sissy of And What Next...

Here are my five interview questions for my blogdaughter Sissy of And What Next...

BTW, if you have not read her, today's pregnancy post is a good one to start with. And for any of you women out there wondering what type of friend I am, I will tell you that I am not such a good friend that I would mimic the whole 'pregnancy test ' thing with you, long distance, on my cell phone. Let me tell you... Sissy is funny and one hell of a friend!!!

OK, for her five questions, which she will send me the answers to and I will post here:

1) Was the Spatula in the Oven your single worst cooking disaster and if not, what was?

2) What do you want to be when you grow up?

3) Ok, there had to be one for the guys... thong, bikini, granny or shorty shorts?

4) If Kiki were reincarnated from a past life, who would she be?

5) Who do you admire most and why... as in... who is your personal hero?

Posted by Boudicca at 10:33 PM | Comments (3)

Not A Good Member for a Zombie Fighting Team

Over at BlogSon Contagion's he had this Zombie Survival Test, that he pilfered from the very funny Jim of Snooze Button Dreams, and for which Contagion scored really high. When I was ditching my 5th book to take someone with me on my deserted island, there was this toss up between The Great Omnipotent One and Contagion, for I would surely die with my gross lack of survival skills.

I picked TGOO because he's been to SERE , I know he remembered just about everything because that's how he is, and because I know of the type of camping trips he goes on, he could do that whole 'live off the land' thing. But I also picked him because he's my DAD and I just did not think it would be cool for Ktreva to come over to my sight and say to her husband, "Who is this Boudicca chick who said she'd dump her 5th book and take you on a deserted island?!" Heh!

Anyway, leave it to Contagion to max out the frickin' Zombie score. I suck.

And based on my low score overall, but my HIGH score for a 39 year old female... this tells me... if you need a good fighting army against Zombies... don't pick 39 year old women.

BTW, I scored the same as Jim. Don't pick him either. :)

Official Survivor
Congratulations! You scored 65%!

Whether through ferocity or quickness, you made it out. You made the
right choice most of the time, but you probably screwed up somewhere.
Nobody's perfect, at least you're alive.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:
You scored higher than 96% on survivalpoints
Link: The Zombie Scenario Survivor Test written by ci8db4uok on Ok Cupid

Posted by Boudicca at 08:32 PM | Comments (5)

No Shining Armor... I Assure You.

Over at Caltech Girl's Not Exactly Rocket Science, I found thiis quiz on Who Would You Be in 1400AD. Now, Caltechgirl ended up as a Prioress, HERE, which sounded really cool when I read the write up, so I thought, "OH!! I'll take this!"

Heh. Yeah, right. I ended up a frickin' knight. She gets this intellectual girl and I get a guy wearing armor. Figures. I'm the one that ended up with the stupid boy brain. GRRR Actually, I ended up just a little more Knight than Lady... I guess that makes me a Lady Knight. I don't think they had those back then...

For the last question about the most important thing I hit ‘sex’. I KNEW for sure, I’d score low on Monk and Cardinal when I answered that one. Yeah, I received 41% on Monkdom... whiich for Monk was 9% higher than anyone else my age and gender.

So here you go:

The Knight
You scored 23% Cardinal, 41% Monk, 50% Lady, and 54% Knight!
You are the hero. Brave and bold. You are strong and utterly selfless. You are also a pawn to your superiors and will be lucky if you live very long. If you survive the Holy wars you are thrust into you will be praised for your valor and opportunities both romantic and financial will become available to you.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
You scored higher than 27% on Cardinal
You scored higher than 9% on Monk
You scored higher than 63% on Lady
You scored higher than 90% on Knight
Link: The Who Would You Be in 1400 AD Test written by KnightlyKnave on Ok Cupid
Posted by Boudicca at 07:34 PM | Comments (6)

March 14, 2005

Interview by Amanda of Aussie Wife

Amanda of Aussie Wife was sent an Interview Meme. She was looking for 5 volunteers to interview. If you submit to an interview, which she did by Caltechgirl of Not Exactly Rocket Science, then you in turn do 5 more interviews… and you get to choose 5 questions to ask.

So she sent me her questions HERE and I answered and she posted the answers. You can see my answers HERE.

Now when you read my last response, this DOES NOT mean I am NOT affectionate. I am very much so.... especially to my family. I am always hugging, smooching or touching my kids, my spouse, my siblings, or my folks. So don't take that last response as I'm some cold fish, because I'm not!

OK, so now I need 5 interviewees. Step up to the plate folks and remember… *I* get to pick the questions. Heh. First five in the comments get to submit to my will answer my questions. Remember, you have to do 5 more… but honestly, that’s a lot. I would think just a three would suffice.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:02 PM | Comments (10)

A Kid's Take

That frickin’ book meme hit me again. OK, not really me. It started with me tagging blog daughter VW, knowing damn well she doesn’t have time to read anymore. So she took it as #1 Son. Then she tagged 3 more kids, one of them being Tara, the daughter my extraordinarily funny blog sister Sally. Tara’s take is HERE. So in turn, Tara tagged Son#1, my brown bear.

So these are his responses.

You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be? None. I wouldn’t want to be burned.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? No. (With raised eyebrows as he thought it was a ridiculous question and… he still hates girls. Give him a few years…)

The last book you bought is: Dragons of Winter Night

The last book you read: A Wrinkle In Time

What are you currently reading? Dragons of Winter Night

Five books you would take to a deserted island.

Dragons of Winter Night

Dragons of Autumn Twilight

Dragons of Spring Dawning (see a trend here… we’re really into dragons and fantasy and these obviously in a series)

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

OK, he decided to choose the 5th book as a survivor’s guide. I told him I switched out my 5th book for TGOO and some picked a survivor’s guide. He said he thought a survivor’s guide would be cool. I asked him ‘by who?’ and he said, “I don’t know! I’d have to research it.” Of course since I know he loves reading that 'Worst Case Scenario' guide I have around the house, he would probably read that first just for the hell of it. Forget about application.

So that's what my brown bear has been reading so far. I'm sure next month the books he couldn't live without will be different...

Posted by Boudicca at 08:51 PM | Comments (5)

The Good Evidently Outweighed the Evil

Over at Blog Niece Lee Ann’s she had this Karma test. Manomanoman, I thought for sure I would get bad karma. It started out asking all these questions about forgiveness and I’m blasting away saying “Hell no I wouldn’t forgive that!” and “Vengeance is mine!” I can sit and wait a long long long time for revenge… and think nothing of it. But then, I guess my answers about being kind to others outweighed it so I got Good Karma. Phew.

You can view my Karma in the extended entry.

You Have Good Karma

In general, you like to do the right thing when it comes to others.

Your caring personality really shines through.

Sure, you have your moments of weakness - and occasionally act out.

But, all in all, you're karma is good... even with those few dark spots.

How's Your Karma?
Posted by Boudicca at 08:34 PM | Comments (7)

About Me

This post is a Quick about Me so I can link to it on my sidebar.

Blue Print specs:

    5' 2"
    Size 4 or 6, depending on how much chocolate and carbs I've chosen to consume that quarter.
    Brown Hair, shoulder length, straight, 9 gray hairs
    Blue Eyes
    Fair skin
    Athletic frame, medium size, not small framed

I have three boys, born in '95, '97, and '99. I've been married since '91. (I'm using dates so I don't have to update this every time the quantity of years change!) We acquired a hamster in November 2004... the Fair Fiona.

Born of a Naval Aviator family, in Hawaii, one Mom (Mom), one Dad (The Great Omnipotent One), one sister (Morrigan) and one brother (Toluca Nole). I'm the eldest of three children.

I consider Pensacola my hometown since it is where I went to high school and since my folks still reside there.

I have my BS in Applied Mathematics and work in the aerospace industry in an engineering position while being a Mom. I work for monetary pay, part-time. Being a Mother, while infinitely harder than being a paid employee, is a better and more rewarding job. I stayed home full time for 4 years until November of 2004, when I was asked to come back to work.

I'm of Celtic heritage and very proud of it, but am also very thankful that my Mom has a bit of other heritages mixed in, hopefully warding off some of the evils of the Southern sun upon my skin!

Posted by Boudicca at 08:27 PM | Comments (5)

The Truth May Be Painful

OK, if any of you out there drive an Infinity FX 35 , I have something I have to tell you. I know, this is going to be a tough one for you to swallow, but someone needs to tell you… be ready now… They lied to you.

I know, hard to imagine that a car company would lie to the customer, but it is true… the cold hard truth.

The FX 35 is not really an SUV. It’s a bubbled up station wagon.

It’s OK. I know, there is this whole stigma with station wagons, almost worse than my Mom-Mobile mini-van, but alas, it is true, you really aren’t driving an SUV. They just wanted you to think that so you’d buy the next generation station wagon and not feel ego loss associated with buying a family type vehicle.

I’m sure if you contact Infinity, they can provide some sort of counseling service for you. It’s a tough one… I’m sure.

I realized this is the same car from THIS post. I’ve been ragging on this car a lot. Evidently I don’t like it much.

Remember, if you're planning on buying this next generation of station wagon, don't buy it in red. It looks like Clifford's head.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:20 PM | Comments (4)

March 13, 2005

My Link

If you haven't updated your blogroll yet, the actual link for this site for it to be on the Ecosystem is

You can get to it as, you can add www's to it and everything, but for the ecosystem, it's

Posted by Boudicca at 10:18 PM | Comments (4)

You Can Dress Her Up, but You Can't Take Her Out

I would really like to blog on my Friday night’s experience, but the written word does not do it justice. It was just too amazingly bizarre to put into words. There is this whole other planet on OUR planet and these folks live on it. I glimpsed it and it was ODD. Hip Hop. The rich Hip Hop crowd. El Bizarro.

I shouldn’t have been sweating the attire. Whereas there were many many people dressed like me and my husband, likewise, there were many people dressed in jeans and ball caps. Yes, that is right, folks wore ball caps…. Inside… at the dinner table. I fought the urge to tell some of the guests two things:

1) Ball caps are taken off inside, gentleman, and if you can’t bring yourself to do that, at least take it off at the dinner table. To do otherwise is ill-mannered. I feel certain your Mama would be ashamed.

2) Sunglasses worn inside, especially at night, look stupid, and I don’t care who you are, you look dumb.

Anyway, I didn’t, but made a mental note to reaffirm these things with my boys, hats off at the dinner table and no sunglasses inside.

OK, to put this story in a different light, The Great Omnipotent One is known for NOT knowing who anyone is and constantly mistaking some famous person for another. It's just a given... you don't ask TGOO about anything dealing with Hollywood. It appears that the apple did not fall far from this tree. The phrase 'like father like daughter' may actually apply here.

We arrive and we’re milling around at the cocktail section looking across the pool where the paparazzi are behind a red velvet rope, waiting to get pictures of the rich and famous. My husband looks over and says, ‘Look, that’s Russell Simmons’. I looked and looked and finally said,

"Russell Simmons?The exercise guy?”

Blank look.

Me, continuing, “You know, the exercise guy who was fat, now he’s thin”.

He replies, “Babe, that is RICHARD Simmons. This is Russell Simmons the owner of Phat Farm clothes and big producer of Hip Hop music.”

My turn to return the blank look. No clue who he is. And he has this beautiful wife I was supposed to know, Kimora. She was the tallest person there at 6’4” and wearing 3” heels. She carried it well. (She seemed really nice.)

On to my other societal blunder that luckily nobody else heard… We’re standing in front of a painting and this woman tells me her husband painted it. It said, ‘Tico’ at the bottom of the painting. My husband had been in conversation with her along with my husband’s business partner and his wife. After awhile, while they finished their conversation, I moved on to look at more art. The artist’s wife is beckoned elsewhere. Finally the wife of my husband’s partner comes up and says, “Do you know who painted that?” and I replied, “yup, Tico!”

I was very proud of myself for knowing SOMETHING.

She says, “But do you know who he is?” and I stated very matter of factly, “Yup. He is an artist! I just listened to his wife talk about his art. He is obviously quite famous.”


The wife looked at me and said, “D!, HE is famous, but because he’s the DRUMMER for Bon Jovi, it is Tico Torres, not because he’s an artist! GEEZ!”

I had no clue the entire evening. And I really didn’t care. The Hollywood types... I may enjoy their music, I may enjoy their films, but I don't want to know anything about them. It just does nothing for me. So I just took it all in, the antics of the rich and famous, amazed how they threw around 35K like I might a five dollar bill.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:21 PM | Comments (14)

They Can't Touch My Face

I was getting ready for the events of both Friday and Saturday nights. One of my stops was to the MAC store in our mall. I don’t use just one brand of make up. I pick and choose between different brands for different things. I may use a brand from our supermarket for some things, but go with a big brand for something else. I use MAC for their ‘color’, my eyes, lips, etc.

So I walked in there looking for some type of lipstick that wouldn’t come off. I hate reapplying and this ‘stain’ stuff is big now and I figured MAC would have something great. As I’m milling around the lipsticks, I notice a conservatively dressed and well coifed woman getting a make over. She was probably about 45 and blonde. Very attractive. Except for the make up.

Holy crap. I would NEVER get a make over by the folks at the MAC store. Ladies, I don’t know what the cosmetic girls look like in the MAC stores in your malls, but in my mall… they look like ‘ho’s. Seriously, seriously, trashy chicks. They wear all black, that expose too much flesh, and they’re too fat to be wearing the clothes they’re wearing, and the overdone make up and multiple piercings... Never. I would never entrust them with my face.

But this woman did. And they did her eyes… in blue. I can’t figure out how to describe it except to say her eyes looked like they had blue wings… like they were going to fly away.

I was aghast.

What was I to do? I felt this moral obligation to say, “Girlfriend. Don’t! Don’t listen to them. Blue is NOT you. Blue is NOT anyone over 16. And Blue from eyelash to eyebrow… it looks like someone PUNCHED you!” Oh it was awful. I couldn’t help staring. And she caught me staring.

I don’t know. Maybe she was going to a costume party. I bought my stuff and didn’t say a word. I was hoping the fact that I intentionally kept looking back at her and staring that she caught the drift she looked like a clown or a whore or a goof or a goofy clown whore.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:55 PM | Comments (3)

Do we Speak the Same Language Part II

Today in my e-mail, I received THIS test. I came out 92% Dixie. OK, I want to know how Blog Sister Sally and Amanda score on this... Just wonderin'.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:47 PM | Comments (15)

I've not Been Called THAT Before!

Over at TNT's Smiling Dynamite, she had a post about our family reunion. She was describing us all and then she got to me and I had to laugh. You can read it HERE.

OK, this was the deal. We rented the house two doors down from Tammi. We had dumped our bags off during the day, but didn't settle in until almost 2AM. A cold front had come through and the house was slightly below 60 degrees if I recall and that means I was really cold. My teeth were chattering and I felt like I was seizing from shaking so much. And did I mention it was 2AM and I was really really tired.

The ac/heat control was in a locked plastic box. I called maintenance to have them come out and turn the heat on for us, but they didn't have anyone for 3rd shift. _Jon was using all his ingenuity to get in that box and flip the heat on, but as soon as he got the heat on, the thermostat box, flipped off the wall, landing at the bottom of this clear plastic lockbox. (I think he used a coat hanger we pilfered from Tammi.)

I had in fact gone back over to Tammi's to get said hanger and in so doing, told those left in her home what had occured. Some of them came over to help. When it appeared to me that there was NOTHING we could do, I decided logically there was no use in getting angry and losing sleep over it. I was tired, it was 2AM, I figured I'd sleep in my sweats and use mulitple blankets (we found some in all the closets) and we'd make due. That's when I came out with my "Well, its only a few hours until dawn, it can't get much colder. We'll be fine." It just seemed futile to expend negative energy.

So that's the story. And my friends and family who know me well are laughing that I got called either an eternal pacifist or eternal opitmist for that statement. I, quite frankly, have never been called either of those!!!

Posted by Boudicca at 08:38 PM | Comments (0)

Anything for My Blog Bro

Blog Bro _Jon of We Swear was recently posting on how much he misses us all since he's been so busy, so he's thinking that if we family members post pictures of our pets, he'll print them up and put them in his cube at work. You gotta read it to understand. (Funny Post, by the way.) Anyway, here's a picture of the Fair Fiona, who _Jon has actually met. I hadn't posted pictures of her before, but this was as good an excuse as any.

To those who have NOT read my blog bro, there is a reason he calls it 'We Swear'. So you've been warned. There are no *** on his posts or in the comments.

And to _Jon, sorry, love, I couldn't find any pictures of Turkey Vultures, but will work on it. I also expect that Fiona will take the best spot in your cube. You can tape her picture in the right corner of your computer screen... she's small... she doesn't take much room and she won't obscure THAT much of your screen. *grin* I think I'm the first to post for you, right? Who loves you most?! That's right... its your blog sister Bou. Remember that. Heh!

Fiona 003.JPG

Side Note: I'm LMAO, I have never downloaded a picture on MT before. I hit preview and thought, "Whoa! Big Hamster!" I'm keeping it. It made me laugh.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:14 PM | Comments (13)

March 11, 2005

Carnival of the Recipes is UP!!!

Pam of Pamibe has the latest Carnival up and let me tell you, it is fantastic. She did an awesome job with the lay out, both with the written word and her awesome graphics. Fun fun fun.

Of course there is this excerpt for this recipe for Quiche that cracked me up...

Go on over and take a look and... drool.

Posted by Boudicca at 05:03 PM | Comments (1)

A Square Peg NOT Fitting in that Round Hole

I'm blogging early tonight because I have an 'event' to go to. It's on Palm Beach and I need to leave it at that. I am a bit nervous, taking consolation in the fact that I do clean up OK. The dress for this event is 'glamorous chic'. I read that on the invitation and called one of the chairmen's wives (who is a friend) and said, "What in the hell is 'glamorous chic'?"

I was pissed. Tell me 'black tie', 'white tie', 'cocktail' , 'business casual', but don't make up crap. That stresses me out.

She didn't know the answer and had to call another wife, who informed her it is 'over the top, like you would wear to the Oscars'.


So I have my outfit ready, my husband has his tux ready and I'm prepared... I guess. I don't look like I'm fit to go to the Oscars, but it will do.

I called my friend to see what time she's arriving as I am NOT going to know many people there. Let's just say that the average attendee is not someone I would ever expect to meet during my day... or my lifetime. Her reply to me was, "Oh, you want to get there kinda early because there will be heavy traffic with all the limos."


We're taking our truck. We had a choice... my mini-van or his SUV. THAT right there should tell you what kind of night it will be. I will be the ulimate observer...

Tomorrow night is that philanthropy cocktail party I'm chairing. My life will be much better when I get rid of that albatross. Note I said 'cocktail party'. I put that on the invitations so people would know how to dress.

Posted by Boudicca at 04:56 PM | Comments (7)

Do We REALLY Speak the Same Language?

Amanda of Aussie Wife cracks me up. (I love her blog.)

First, let me say that I made her Shepherd's pie the other night and I loved it. It's the first time my boys have had lamb. I just told them it was 'meat'. I was afraid if I told them it was lamb, I'd get a fight. So I just didn't. You just never know what kids will think.

Anyway, as good fortune would have it, she converted all her stuff to our measuring system and in her comments someone asked what minced was... whew!, and someone replied it is the same as 'ground'. I would never have guessed that! Hey, she went so far as to actually measure her boulliion cube so we knew what size to use since it was brought to her attention their cubes are bigger than 'our' cubes.

It brought me back to when I hosted the Carnival of the Recipes and she submitted her recipe for Biscuits and being a Southerner, I took it as something you put with gravy and serve with meat. She was quick to tell me that it was a ... cookie! So now I know!

And then in yesterday's post for grits, I never thought about people not knowing what a grit is. I probably eat grits once a week. We eat cheese grits at any holiday we can convince my Mom that it's a tradition. How does one describe grits? I referred her to My Cousin Vinny for the classic take on grits. She googled grits though and found they don't have those in Australia.

Now you Northern readers are probably thinking, "Amanda, you aren't mssing anything" while my Southern readers are saying, "Whoa. Amanda, that's too bad!"

Heh heh heh!

Posted by Boudicca at 04:47 PM | Comments (11)

March 10, 2005

If You Think YOUR Dinner Tanked

OK folks, I cannot believe I spent any significant amount of time doing this, but I just HAD to know… and now I do… so you will too.

Baby Koala bears eat their Mama’s poop.


Yesterday in the car, Son#2 said to me, “Hey, Mom, did you know Baby Koala bears eat their Mommy’s poop?”

See, stuff like that keeps me on my toes. I can just be toodling around town, lost in my own thoughts, complacent with my life that all is right with the world, love love love, happy flowers, and blue birds, when I get some little question that perks my ears, startles me, and makes me fight the bile welling up in my throat.

Of course my answer was, “Uh, no, buddy, I didn’t. WHERE in the heck did you hear THAT?”

School was the answer. That prompted me to do some internet research as I’m never really sure exactly what is said in school. It’s not uncommon for things to be so twisted around, I wonder if my sons actually reside on the same planet as the rest of the children during class.

But… alas, he was right. Or his teacher was. Or his book. Who knows? All I know is I found this:

“The young koala drinks only mother's milk for the first six to seven months. At about 30 weeks, it begins to feed upon a substance called "pap" which the mother produces in addition to milk. Pap is a specialized form of droppings, which forms an important part of the young koala's diet, allowing it to make the transition from milk to eucalyptus leaves. Pap is soft and runny. It allows the mother to pass on micro-organisms from her digestive system.”

And there you have it. Who knew? Next time they complain about what I fix for dinner, I will MOST DEFINITELY be saying, “Hey, buck up kiddo, you could be a koala bear and have to eat my poop.” Heh. I’m laughing just thinking about it.

(BTW, I am using this post also to check out block quotes on my blog. We’re still in the test phase here…)

Posted by Boudicca at 09:24 PM | Comments (10)

Forkage in our Tree and a Test

The family tree at Bad Example has once again started to fork. Thankfully. No more weird and odd brothers and sisters combining with parents to form offspring...for the most part. These are pure fresh blogospheric blood. Phew, hopefully we’ve lowered our chances of future genetic mutants.

From Blog Sistah Tammi we have Army Wife of ArmyWifeToddlerMom. I cry when I read her posts. Her husband just came back from 18 months being deployed in the Sand Box. She writes of reuniting… seeing each other for the first time and how in the time he was gone, they had a baby he has not yet seen and their now 3 year old is a child, not the baby he left. When he left he had a 1 ½ year old and a pregnant wife. Wow. The changes. And I get choked because I came from a military family and although my Dad’s deployments were only 9 months as opposed to 18, I remember the excitement of waiting for him. I remember not wanting to let go. I can’t imagine what it was like for my Mom. I no longer cry at funerals, but when I open the paper and I see a carrier pulling into port, sailors on deck, families waiting to see their deployed loved ones, I weep, with joy and sadness... for their coming together and the times they missed. It is a feeling you cannot understand… unless you’ve been there.

BTW, Happy Blogiversary to Tammi... it's been one year. Stop by and send her happy thoughts and good wishes HERE.

OK, from blog bro Johnny OH! we have Sarah the Penguin at “Because we have Thumbs”. I don’t know. I’m kinda thinking that Johnny Oh spawned Sarah and it has something to do with Evil Glenn.

Anyway, Sarah is my new blog niece. I’m adding her to my blogroll.

And Sarah is dating Neon Angel of Lyrical Coma and I believe it makes him my nephew-in-law… kinda sorta, except he was kind of spurred by Johnny Oh! too, so it’s kinda like having twins that are dating? Blech. I knew we had to have something weird in here somewhere… it IS the Bad Example family tree after all. Can’t run from your roots.

Yeah, so Neon Angel of Lyrical coma is my new blog nephew and I’m adding him to my blogroll.

And then of course... Harvey... who is truly the most prolific blogger/spawner in the blogosphere, spawned again. Geezoweez! We have Pam of Camp HappyBadFun! So she has THIS test over at her blog and I took it. She ended up a sock that is compatible with toilet paper. (You have to read it to understand.) So I thought, 'Oh! I wonder what type of random object I am!"

I ended up a frickin' toothbrush. No laughing from the insiders. You can see the results in the extended entry. (Bah! I hate these damn tests! NEVER AGAIN!! *shaking fist*)

ANYWAY, we are both compatible with toilet paper, so I have to add her to my blogroll. Oh, and she's family now. *grin*

AND... our tree is expanding so fast lately, I had to laugh at blog daughter Sissy's Post HERE about blogospheric contraception!

You are a toothbrush.
You are a control freak. You love to be in charge of everything, and like to do things yourself instead of indirectly. Hands-on projects are your favorite. You like to accomplish things the hard way, even if it means getting dirty. You have high priorities and set goals for your life, which will make you very successful. However, you will have to dig deep and get rid of all the crap people throw at you in order to have a promising future.

Most compatible with: Toilet Paper, and Windex.
Click here -- What Random Object Represents Your Inner Self?

Posted by Boudicca at 09:19 PM | Comments (6)

Book Meme's Answered

Contagion answered the MEME HERE!!! Heh heh heh. If you love history or you love Scottish history, you will enjoy his book selections.

And Sissy answered the call HERE! Can you tell she likes Pat Conroy???

Posted by Boudicca at 08:33 PM | Comments (2)

Rhyming Isn't On the Brain

Bones (Son#3) is learning how to read. He's in kindergarten. I got a note home today that although he can read sentences, he cannot rhyme. We have a worksheet to do.

At the top of the first column is the word 'it' and under it three lines, where he is to write three words that rhyme with 'it'. So I explained to him how it works and I said, "Now pick a letter for the front of 'it' and we'll see if it's a word."

First thing out of his mouth, 'Tit?" I couldn't say no. Whereas I was happy his teacher may have been over exaggerating the problem, I wasn't thrilled our first word was 'tit'. So I told him he was correct, and he wrote it down.

I told him we needed a second word and without skipping a beat he says, "Titty?"

That is just so wrong. I'm not happy that we are obviously stuck on the whole tit thing, but with this example and those following, I realize, he just doesn't get it.

Posted by Boudicca at 08:29 PM | Comments (5)

Carnival of the Recipes- Cheese Grits Souffle

This week it is hosted by none other than the WONDERFUL Pam at Pamibe! (By the way, if you go the bottom of my blogroll, you’ll see a little dog. That is Zoe. It’s a button… if you push it, you go to her site.)

Here's my entry for the week. Cheese grits. I LOVE my Mom’s cheese grits. We eat them with ham traditionally at Easter, but we three kids have somehow convinced her it is a Christmas Eve tradition too, so we now get them every Christmas Eve.

This makes a whole mess of grits, so you need a BIG baking dish. And this is NOT low fat.

Cheese Grits Souffle (Yield: 12 servings)

2 teaspoons Salt
7 Cups Water
2 Cups uncooked Grits (I use Quaker quick grits)
1 6-oz roll Kraft nippy cheese cut into cubes (It's the 'cheese' you find in the refrigerated section, in the plastic 'roll'. I prefer the garlic flavor but the Jalapeno is good in this too)
8 oz sharp cheddar cheese, grated
1 Cup butter, melted
4 eggs, well beaten
1/2 Cup milk
Salt and pepper

Add salt to boiling water and cook grits, covered, over low heat, until done (15-25 minutes). Stir in cheeses, butter, eggs, milk, salt and pepper to taste. Stir until cheese is melted. Pour into a buttered 3 Qt casserole and bake in a preheated 350 deg oven for 1 hour.

Posted by Boudicca at 07:28 PM | Comments (7)

March 09, 2005

Up and Not Exactly Running... But Trying

I'm here. Anything you see is the product of Pam's handiwork. She created my banner, put in my plaid, and has made it so it looks right when I blog. She's awesome.

I'm still working on my blogroll. I am missing some folks, like the munuvian blogroll and a few others I need to add, and I'm going to edit how I have it appear.

When you read the posts I have below, for some reason the links are not popping out like they do in the preview. I have lots of links on those posts!!! So run your cursor over and you can see them. I'm trying to figure out what I have set wrong.

So anyway, Pam is WONDERFUL and made this all happen. Thank you, PAM!

Posted by Boudicca at 10:46 PM | Comments (28)

All The Money in the World

My blog father Grau has started a Meme. Money being no object, what would you want. This has been a tough one for me. I don’t have a lot of wants… my wants are more of an emotional kind, not a ‘thing’ kind, if that makes sense. So assuming my family is taken care of and I’ve met my conscience as far as society is concerned, this is what I think I’d do.

Money being no object, I would want something that I could hang out in alone or have all my family gathered around… kids, parents, siblings, and friends, a house in Maine that overlooked the ocean, but was away from everything, complete with it being decorated AND furnished in that North Eastern way, bright and cheery and airy, and a beautiful Garden and it should be near Acadia national park so I can hike. And it has to have a great big huge kitchen, gargantuan with the big island in the middle and the kitchen is open to the eating area that you can look out over the ocean while you eat and you can open up the doors and let a good breeze in and… OK, you get my drift.

If I’m going to be in Maine, and if I decide to tough it out for the winter, I need the obligatory car. But, I would want two,depending on the weather… so this takes up TWO wishes… the first being this big old FORD pick 'em up truck. Fully loaded with heated seats and the what not since I’m a cold weather wimp. But I also want THIS Lexus convertible. Notice there is no room for car seats.

OK, so that’s three wishes down and two to go. I think I’d get a brand new top of the line computer package: laptop, fax/printer/modem, surround sound system, and graphics. I like having a stand alone computer, but a lap top is nice for travel. I would upgrade everything.

If you haven’t caught on yet, this is my mental escape. This is what I do when I’m really stressed, I go to Maine to a house on the bluffs, overlooking the ocean, with my computer, my stereo and wheels. Oh and I have a dog. This last item is kicking my butt… all the money in the world… no questions… what would I want…

...And a sailboat. I’d want a nice sailboat and by then I’ll have learned how to sail. I’ll be an expert sailor. And I don’t want one of those big damn boats they race, that are like yachts, but a nice boat a few people can go out in and just sail around and take in the salt air on the beautiful days. Sweaters, khakis, tennis shoes, and my sailboat… with my dog. I’d be set.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:37 PM | Comments (8)

Of All the Luck

I was over at Eric of Straight White Guy's and he had this Meme. When I got to the first question "You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?", I thought, "Whew, I'm not doin' this Meme. Crap. I have no clue."

Then I mosey on down to the bottom and there it says he's TAGGING ME! ARGH! OK, so here they are...

You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be? I had to think about this one. I went back to my childhood. Charley and the Chocolate Factory. It was the first book I read. I was 6.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Blech. Yes. And I am admitting it on the blogosphere. When I was 6 I thought Speed Racer was a hottie. Who woulda thunk that some 20 years later I’d marry a guy who drives a white sports car…

The last book you bought is: Black Tiger by Robert Brace

The last book you read: Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz. (It took me awhile to finish this book. I read it intermittently… not because it wasn’t good, but because I was afraid of how it was going to end.)

What are you currently reading? Black Tiger by Robert Brace

Five books you would take to a deserted island.
Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy (a favorite author)
A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving (a favorite author)
East of Eden by John Steinbeck (given to me as a gift by a man I almost married 18 years ago)
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Umm… I swap the 5th book out and say I’d take The Great Omnipotent One (my Dad for those of you not in the know) because he could survive on a deserted island and I couldn’t without someone in the know.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why? Ahhh…My Three Blogbabies…

VW of One Happy Dog Speaks With two toddlers, she probably doesn’t read anymore… With this Meme she can fantasize about reading!

Sissy of And What Next because… I think we have similar reading tastes and I want to see.

Contagion at Miasmatic Review because I have a fairly good feeling his answers will surprise me. He’s also one of those types that could survive on a deserted island… no sweat.

Posted by Boudicca at 10:12 PM | Comments (7)

Fine Tuning

OK, let's see how the width is. I'm hoping the plaid isn't too busy. We may be better off with a parchment.

I think this is what Harvey refers to as the obligatory first sucky post. I'm even using him as my first link.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:13 PM | Comments (8)

Just because I needed one...

Boudicca (AD 62)

Image of Boudicca
Portrait of Boudicca ©
What do we really know of this great British Queen of ancient Britain? She was married to Prasutagus, and with him she ruled over the Iceni - the tribe occupying East Anglia - but under Roman authority. Like many other rulers in Britain at this time, Boudicca witnessed the suffering caused to her people by the heavy taxes, conscription and other indignities generated by the Roman Emperor Nero. The final outrage came when her husband Prasutagus died, and the Romans plundered her chief tribesmen and brutally annexed her dominions. This was too much for the Queen and she determined to take on Nero and his Legions. In this she was not alone, for tradition tells that all of south east Britain came to her side, ready to die for the Queen who was fierce enough to take on the Roman Empire. It's noteworthy that tribes which remained loyal to the Romans, (like the Catuvellauni) were not spared Boudicca's wrath.

Posted by Boudicca at 09:12 PM | Comments (1)