Taking a break

I'm taking a break from my Spring Cleaning and Redecorating Project. My old furniture hit the trash heap last weekend. I was so glad to see it go. It was get-me-by furniture given to me three years ago when I bought my house. I didn't have a stick of furniture at the time so it served it's purpose and now has been retired to a pile of ash.

So, this week I have had the carpets cleaned, celebrated Chowhound's birthday, removed all the remaining items from the living room except the entertainment center. I started painting last night and I was horrified when we moved the entertainment center. OMG. It looked like Pompeii. Then, I started laughing. The first thing that ran through my mind was I could win a Casa de Dust contest if ArmyWifeToddlerMom had one. I would have taken and posted pictures but I didn't want to embarrass myself that much.

I am now down to the boring, tedious part of painting. The baseboards. I hate painting baseboards and I just can't put border on them like I do up at the ceiling. Thus, I am procrastinating right now because I don't have an edger. The tape isn't working very well. But, motivation is right around the corner because I pick up my new furniture tomorrow. The, the ultimate motivation arrives Saturday. My mother. Yeah, she is coming in for a short visit.

Well, back to painting.

Happy Birthday Chowhound

My baby is sweet 16 today. Everyone help me wish Chowhound a great birthday. I have more to post later but right now we have to go out to eat, of course.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHOWHOUND!!!!!!

How to jump start a Monday

Ring, Ring,

"Hello"

"Can I speak to ****"

"Speaking"

"This is Agent SoandSo with the FBI."

HOLY CRAP! WHAT DID DAREDEVIL DO NOW?! That's the first thought that went through my head. All kinds of things came next. I thought it was bad enough when the Sheriff's Deputy from the School called from my house because Daredevil and his friends were skipping. But, the FBI. This is some serious crap here. I prayed please, please, please be a practical joke. He didn't give me a lot of information. He just asked to meet with me.

So, how do you make a good impression at work? Ask your boss, "Can I use your office to talk with the FBI?" This looks real good since my company is sending people for drug tests this week.

Turns out it didn't involve any of my kids for a change. They're doing an investigation on the guy next door.

Yeah, dodged that bullet for now. Always have to stay on my toes.

Tales of Ox

Ox Tails....is this on anyone's shopping list? It certainly isn't on mine. But, everywhere I go lately I see it. There is a huge hand written sign posted on the freezer door of our little grocery store announcing, "YES, WE HAVE OX TAILS". Oh, good. I was worried.

Then, I check out this new restaurant. They have oxtails on their menu. What is up with that? But even worse is the first item on their dry erase board menu. Curried goat. Bleh. I'm glad my appetite rushed back to the car before my lunch hurled to the floor. You don't have to worry about me making reservations.

This site says, "Oxtail soup is a comfort food for many." No. No. No. Chocolate is a comfort food. Brownies, oreos, Molten Chocolate Cake. These are comfort foods. No where in the PMS guide does it list Oxtail soup. The ox doesn't even find any comfort in that. And certainly not me. Who the hell finds comfort in oxtail soup?

Further, it states, "Today, upscale chefs are rediscovering oxtails to the nostalgic delight of older patrons and the wonder of the younger crowd who consider it an exotic meat. And it's not just for soup or stew these days, as you'll see from the recipes. " Nostalgic delight?! Exotic?! No, it's the left over parts no one wants to eat. The older people ate it because they were poor and people used to give the junk away. It was called survival food. They ate it because they had to. It became undiscovered because it was crap. Now all of a sudden it's exotic? Give me a break. I don't believe it. People use it because it's cheap.

The article says that it's the collagen from the oxtail that makes it tasty. Animal collagen is used in shampoos and conditioners. It is in antiwrinkle creams. I have no desire to eat my shampoo and cosmetics. This doesn't even sound appetizing.

Has anyone reading this eaten oxtail? Do you cook with it regularly? I'm just curious. Don't invite me for dinner that night.

Life doesn't get any better than this

The pungent, spicy aroma of jerk chicken simmering...the drumming rhythm of "A Pirate looks a Forty" .... and twirling around the kitchen with Chowhound. Life is wonderful, Mon.

Weather Pixie

I like everyone's little weather pixie so I added one to my site. But, I was disappointed in their choices of Pixies. They have all kinds of cute, sexy looking female pixies but are seriously lacking in hunky male pixies. I wanted a male weatherboy. I set my weather to reflect my Sweetie's location, the Bahamas. I would much rather be there than here. For reasons other than the weather, but still. I hate the cold and I dream of being warm. I wanted a hunky weatherboy. They only have punky weatherboys. I live in a house of punks I don't want one representing my site. So, I picked Tangerine girl. After the last dye job on my hair, I kinda look like her.

Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor doggie a bone,
When she got there
The cupboard was bare
Because Daredevil and Chowhound were home.

I will be so glad when they run off to Ft. Lauderdale for Spring Break and get thrown in jail or something. At least then, I won't have to feed them. They have eaten me out of house and home this week. I fear for the dog. I'm afraid they might eat him too. So far, he has survived. But, there is still the weekend.

We're down to having breakfast for dinner. Last night they ate:

a loaf of bread (French Toast)
A dozen eggs
a pound of bacon

They had already eaten before I got home so they weren't real hungry.

Image Meme--Take 2

My wonderful mother, VWBug, tagged me. Yes, Mom. I'll do my homework.

Here's the instructions:

2. Pick 5 random blogfriends.
3. Think of a word or phrase that you describes each friend.
1. Choose a search engine (e.g. Dogpile).
4. Do an image search of that word or phrase.
5. Pick an image that makes you say, "Aha! That's it!"

So, here goes my attempt to make friends.

Hippie, Welcome to the Family.









love and Koolaid Stains




Rave of Quid nunc




I'll do what I want to do--Gosh



Thought Drizzle



I picked people I wasn't too familar with so I could make friends. If anyone's offended sorry. But, my mom made me do it. She says I need to get out more. Go here and blame her.

VW's Day with Tater and Tot

First thing in the morning, VWBug is raring to go. She's a tank. Sound the battle alarm. Post arms. It's time to battle the toddler world and win.





She even takes time to dress up and play with the enemy troops. "It gets their guard down. They think I have surrendered."




By Noon, she is seeking ways to escape. "Maybe I can scare them into behaving", she thinks. "I'll slip into my spider disguise." HA! It won't work. They're boys. They love bugs. She is starting to show signs of distress--illogical thinking.





Desperation sets in. "I must GET AWWWWWWWWWay! Yes, Yes. I can escape."



Oh, No. Sleep deprivation kicks in. Crash and Burn.




Tater and Tot win again!


Oh, the meme was five images of other people? Silly me. I'll try again tomorrow.

Labeling Children

I've always heard you shouldn't label children. I disagree. They should all come with labels. If they had, I would have been more prepared for Daredevil. This is his Warning Label.

PARENTAL

ADVISORY

DAREDEVIL CONTAINS EXPLICIT LYRICS

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com


I would have been warned.

My Warning Label

THIS WAY UP á

Sticks has fragile contents which may break!

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

Hat tip to Oddybobo who stole it from Ogre who stole it.

*Evidently I've been upside down already because something is broken. This gets all messed up when I post. Looks great when I'm editing it.

What every girl wants?

What do you get a teenage girl for her 17th Birthday?


earrings, of course, to match the ring and necklace you already bought her. (It's her birthstone)



AND




Yep. Daredevil bought his girlfriend earrings and nunchucks for her birthday. He says it's not what every girl wants but IT'S WHAT HIS GIRL WANTS. And what's wrong with that? She's different and that's what he likes about her.

He said it was a toss up between the nunchucks and a Chinese throwing star. He figured he was safer with the nunchucks. Those wounds would heal. He didn't want to end up with a star up his butt.

Maybe she has the right idea. Keep 'em line. I like this girl!

Sometimes...

there just aren't enough rocks."
Forest Gump

Getting Personal

If you're looking for something upbeat check back another day. Today I am hitting a very personal and sensitive subject. It is rather long since I don't have an extended entry option. But, it is very important to me to post this.

Three things happened recently to prompt me to write this. They are all connected to the abuse I experienced as child.

First, Monday I spent a little time at a Christian school/church that reminded me of one I attended when I was young. Then, last night I received news of the death of a childhood friend. He was the Uncle of the little girl my step-father molested. It was her courage that led to his prosecution and prison time. Finally, I woke up in the wee hours this morning and caught a a very powerful episode of Oprah. It originally aired October 18, 2005. But, as I am not in touch with current events, I had never heard any of this. Oprah was interviewing Laveranues Coles. He was talking about his own experiences with his step-father molesting him. I now have tremendous respect for this man. This is not something very easy to talk about. Especially for a man molested by another man.

These events have led to some very deep thinking and reflection.

Sometimes writing is very difficult for me. Until I started this blog, I had not written very much since my teenage years. Writing back then was survival. But, my emotions kept the words from flowing. I was only able to write when I was under the influence of something. It was only then that I could write. But, I feel compelled to tell my story. Not just the details of events, but the emotions and struggles. It is extremely hard for me to open up to people on a very personal level. I feel I need to do this.

For me, the hardest part of being molested wasn't the physical part but the shame, humiliation, hopelessness and confusion I felt. Feelings a child should not experience. I had a hard time accepting that I could love and hate this man so much at the same time. He came into my life when I was four. He was not always the monster. He was the very best and absolute worst father a man could be. There was no inbetween.

In the beginning I battled my emotions by turning to God. On Sunday mornings, I would quietly get dressed for church as everyone else slept. The church bus was my salvation. I knew God could heal me. Everyone told me so. Every Sunday I anxiously waited for "alter call". The Church I attended had a small kneeling alter at the front. I would go up there and pray and pray and pray to God to stop the pain I felt. An adult would come and pray over me. It was the only comfort I had at the time. In my 10 year old mind, I knew God would save me from the life I was living. Looking back now, I wonder why didn't any of the adults question why a child would cry and pray every Sunday. When God didn't make things better, I denounced Him. I remember slumping down against the gym wall at school, burying my head in my knees, and shaking my fist at "God" and telling Him I would never believe again. I was angry. Angry at everyone. But, mainly myself and God because I couldn't make the pain go away and He didn't rescue me.

When religion didn't work, I turned to "science". I researched my symptoms. Mood swings, depression, crying, and suicidal thoughts were among them. I remember being elated when I figured out what was wrong with me. I rushed into the guidance counselor's office and announced that I was a Manic Depressive. Since, I finally knew what "my problem" was, I knew I could fix it now. The counselor dismissed my notions. She never called my parents. She never asked why. She did nothing. Except tell me I was wrong. At eleven I wanted to die. I wished for it every day. And I could not tell a soul. I was bound in a prison of shame.

I battled the highs and lows until I discovered alcohol and drugs. I finally found a way to numb everything. I could drink until I felt nothing or I could "smoke" until I was laughing and happy. In fact, most of the time I remembered nothing. Things grew worse at home. My step-father provided the alcohol and drugs. It was an easy way to take advantage of me if I was unconscious. My emotional state worsened. My life worsened. There were only a few people I felt comfortable enough to be around with out altering my mental state. But, I was ashamed to even tell them.

After graduating from high school, I was finally able to escape the abuse. It had been on and off for almost 10 years. It was during my most formative years. When everyone else was learning about the world and figuring out what they wanted to do with their future, I was still struggling to convince myself I even wanted to live. Shame is an extremely binding emotion. I had lived nearly half my life in fear and shame. I felt dirty and unworthy of love but desperately craved it.

I know there are children out there experiencing the same thing. Everyone needs to keep their eyes and ears open. Children cry and demand help but won't always ask for it outright. They want to know someone cares.

I was fortunate enough to pull myself together and get therapy. Then, my healing was helped even more by the voice of an 11 year old girl. She and I held hands throughout the trials. She was my salvation. I don't think I could have faced my step-father if that little girl hadn't stood up to him first. As a child I wanted an adult to save me. But, in the end it was a child who saved the adult. I owe her my life.

This is why those events hit me so hard. My step-father always told us how terrible the kids next door were. Then, when we were no longer vulnerable he took advantage of one of their children. Other than the mother of the little girl, I never talked about it with the rest of their family. So, even though I have not spoken to them in 15 years, I have a deep connection with this family. They have been part of my life since I was 13. They have had more than their share of troubles. The little girl's father died in a car accident a few years after the trial. Now, another brother has died and one other has cancer and is not expected to live to see the end of this year. My prayers are with this family and my heart goes out to them in their time of sorrow.

What impressions have my kids made

I sometimes wonder what impressions my boys have made on other adults. Throughout the years I have been complimented on them. I smile proudly. But, that was when they were younger. Now they are teenagers. What do impressions have they left now? Well, I found out today.

Our little high school band has been invited to represent the State of Florida in the 4th of July Parade in Washington DC. Today they have a car wash to help raise money. Daredevil and Chowhound grabbed signs and headed towards the road. I wanted to run and hide when I heard the Band Director yell at them, "Don't scare AWAY the customers!" Ack. That's not good.

Not a Shamrock

HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY

In observance of St. Patrick's Day, I wanted to wear green to work today. Actually, I just didn't want to get pinched. I work in a predominantly redneck male environment where harass is still interpreted as two words, "HER ASS" and I didn't want to give them any excuses.

As I was exploring my wardrobe for green articles this morning, I remembered I had a green pin in my jewelry box. Now, folks, you have to realize that I am not a jewelry person. I have a jewelry box but it does not contain the typical things. It is more a conglomeration of things I have collected through the years.

Just to give you an idea, some of the contents include:
*a pin that says "I can handle any crisis I'M A MOM"
*a gold Pokemon card
*a key to a storage locker on Catalina Island, CA
*a Swiss army knife
*2 fortune cookie fortunes
*a picture of a rose torn out of the newspaper

There are a bunch of other things too. Some fake pearls, a few pieces of costume jewelry. I don't know where some of the things came from. I do not remember where I got the "Shamrock" pin or even when. I just know that I remember seeing this green pin in my collection over the years. I can't remember ever wearing it before. But, since it was St. Patty's Day, I figured it would be cute to wear it to work sort of like warding off vampires with a cross or whatever you are supposed to use.

Anyway, I pull it out and start to put it on. Suddenly, it dawns on me. OMG this is not a Shamrock! A Shamrock only has three leaves. Where in the hell, when and why did I acquire this.



Needless to say, I did not wear it to work.

Friday Flashback

Okay, Mom, I'll tell my stories. It'll be a Flashback Friday today.

Being around VW's boys sure makes memories come pouring back. Just seeing the two car seats in her van made me smile. Traveling with toddlers is always an adventure. And it is even more so if they are within touching distance of each other. My three boys are within 4 years of each other which meant that someone could always touch someone else since the backseat was wall-to-wall kid carriers.

It's a mother's nightmare trying to referee while driving. Well, this one particular day, Daredevil and Improviser were snacking on Happy Meals in the backseat. Suddenly, Daredevil, I think he was 3 at the time, started crying and screaming. The mother's inquiry revealed he had a french fry up his nose. Stomping Brakes, gravel grinding, I pull off the road. Yep. It was way up there. Not a scrap hanging out. I'm glad he wasn't laughing and snorting. We would have needed surgery to get the sucker out.

"How did you get a french fry up your nose?"

Teary eyed, he replied "Improviser did it!"

"Why did you put a french fry up your brother's nose?"

Improviser replied matter of factly, "'cause he tried to put one in my ear."

Toddler justification. It made perfect sense to him.

Okay, what now?! Plan A. Grab something to use as a snot rag. Blow. Nope. Nothing.

Plan B. Stifling my laughter I drove to my mother's house to borrow a pair of tweezers. It was way up there. Luckily, this didn't require an emergency room trip. The extrication was simple and quick. And hilarious. Did I mention it was way up his nose?My mother still laughs about this. I was soooooooo glad I did not have to make a trip to the emergency room for this. It was bad enough I had already recently taken his brother in to get a rock out of his ear. But, that's another story.

Great Marketing

Ad agencies pay people good money to sucker people in. Someone earned their money on me. Because twice this week I have bought terrible products because of the packaging.

Episode #1.

This is my skin.



Yep, it's as dry as mud. Especially in the winter. Easy solution. Lotion. There are a gazillion lotions on the shelves. I just grab one that looks great. I'm a sucker for anything that resembles summer and beaches. Neutrogena Summer Glow daily moisturizer. You think I would have picked up on G.L.O.W. No not me. I concentrated on the daily moisturizer part. It was a real blonde moment.

It's my calves and ankles that are the driest. So, I just douse them down and rub the excess on my forearms for good measure.

Yesterday, I notice my palms look funny. Orange even. I sprint to the bathroom and inspect the lotion closer. Self-tanning. OMG. I look at my legs. I'm tan from the knees to the ankles. It's worse than a farmer's tan. It's a mailman's tan. Good thing it's not shorts time yet. It's capris for now. I sure hope it fades as fast as a real tan.

Episode #2

Heed my warning. I was the guinea pig.

If you are tempted to buy Krusteaz Mango Bars reach for something else.

My boys love Mangos. The picture on the box looked good. I was in a sweets mood. So, I was suckered in.

First warning: It didn't smell good when I was mixing it up. Ignore warning #1.

Second warning: It didn't smell good while baking. I should have clued in here. Ignore warning #2.

Finally, it's done. Taste test time. Yuck. It taste like dirty socks smell. I gagged. So, disgusting. Maybe glitter and raisins would have made them tolerable. But, I don't think so.

You have warned.

Mini Blog Meet

Too tired to blog last night. Thoughts and fingers would not cooperate. But, what a wonderful weekend! It was full and busy and refreshing. I hated to return to reality but one can't live in vacation/fantasy land forever.

I visited with my Blog Mother and longtime friend, VWBug, not once but twice. Her sons, Tater and Tot are as adorable in person as they appear on her blog. I got hugs, kisses and pictures. They are two too sweet boys. Also, Happy Dog is very happy, very friendly and seemed to like me very much. His nose is right at the wrong height. He kept goosing my butt with his nose. Nothing like trying to visit while holding a miniature horse at bay. We had a fantastic visit reminiscing and catching up.

On the return trip, we had a mini blog meet. Three generations of bloggers together. I was excited. I finally met my Blog Grandmother, Boudicca. I've know VW since Jr. High School, but even though Bou and I briefly went to the same High School, this was the first time we met. She is a beautiful woman. I think what struck me most about her was the confidence and energy she exudes. I am envious of that. So now I can add "Bloggers I have met" to my sidebar.

I was disappointed to learn that I missed meeting That 1 Guy by only a few hours. Maybe on his next world tour.

Today is.....

P A N I C Day!

Ok. Ok. I'll agree with that. I can panic.

13 Reasons to Panic today

1. I'm leaving for my trip in the morning and I'm not packed.

2. I still have to pick up the rental car tonight.

3. I colored my hair last night and it looks funky. It looks kinda orange to me. That will teach me to go off on a whim and color my hair right before I see my Sweetie.

4. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser (19) and Daredevil (18) for the weekend. Stupid, Stupid, Mom. You think I would have learned my lesson when Improviser got the Explorer stolen.

5. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

6. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

7. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

8. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

9. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

10. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

11. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

12. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

13. I'm leaving my house and car in possession of Improviser and Daredevil.

Hear that sound. That's me beating my head against the wall. When will I learn. Anyone have any Zanax? Panic attack city today.

HAVE YOU HAD YOUR PANIC ATTACK TODAY?

Heading South

I headed for South Florida tomorrow. First, I'm going to stop off and have PB&J with Tater, Tot and my Blog Mom, VWBug. I am so excited. This will be the first time I have gotten to visit with the precious boys. They were asleep the last time I dropped by. Contrary to what VWBug says, they do sleep. Or at least that's what I was told. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't even her house. All the lights were off and we had to whisper. And whispering is not something I am very good at. (Just poking fun at her). Anyways, I am really excited about my visit with her and the boys.

Then, I am headed even further South to spend some time with my Sweetie. It's been since Christmas since I have seen him and I can't wait.

The flip side of the coin is that I am, stupidly, once again leaving my house and car in the possession of Improviser and Daredevil. I have been promised that they will behave. Yeah, right. Like I believe that one. But, in my little world, I will. Otherwise, I will be a nervous wreck all weekend and won't get to enjoy myself. Yeah, right. And I'll let them think that.

Well, time to finish packing. Have a great weekend and I'll see you folks Tuesday.

Battle of the Sexes Ammunition

My boys are evidently taking the battle of the sexes seriously. They are armed and ready to fight. I found this in the bathroom this morning.



They have discovered the ultimate weapons in the war with women.



Deodorant. Shaving cream. Razors. Toothbrush. (The toothpaste was on the counter). Nothing like a girl to get a boy to take a shower and start caring about his appearance.

Yeah. Gone are the days when I have to coax them to take a shower and then ask specific follow up questions. Did you use soap and water? Did you wash your hair? Did you brush your teeth? Did you use toothpaste?

I'm not sure where they got their unique toiletry kit. I'm not sure if I want to know. But, I guarantee, I will inspect their luggage the next time we fly. I can see this show up during a security check at the airport. We would make national headlines. Some high strung security cop would probably shoot us.

Today is.....

HUG A GI DAY!

My source states:

Today is a day that we all can embrace. It's "Hug a GI Day". Give a great big hug to any and all GIs you see today. The men and women in our armed forces deserve our thanks and appreciation.

GI's perform an invaluable service to our country. They risk their lives for our freedom, and to keep us safe. A simple hug is a small thanks for this vital service to our country.

So here is a BIG HUG in appreciation to anyone who has served our country to defend my freedoms.

I would be cautious of just going up and hugging anyone in uniform without explaining why. This might cause some ingratitude at first.

I couldn't find anything on the origin of "Hug a GI Day", but I suspect it was a pick up line originally. Seems like a good way from a young GI to meet some pretty innocent little thing.

Today is.....

National Anthem Day

Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?


On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

________________________

March 3, 1931, the "Star Spangled Banner" was officially declared The United States' National Anthem by an act of Congress.

The Star Spangled Banner was originally only a poem. However, there was a very popular tune of the time which had the same form and metre, ironically, this was the tune of a British drinking song. When the handbills were printed, they bore the name of this tune to which the poem should be sung - Anacreon in Heaven.

Today is.....

Old Stuff Day.

There is no explanation for this day and it is left wide open for interpretation. Go here for the complete list of holidays.

What is your favorite old stuff?

Compliment?

Compliments from teenage boys to their mother are rare events and usually masked with sarcasm. So, I was taken aback by the conversation with Chowhound tonight.

Chowhound peering over my shoulder looking at the rice dish I was cooking. "That looks like you went bluuuuuegh". The line was complete with perfect theatrical embellishment. My drama king.

Me: "Gee, thanks"

Chowhound: "I like the way you cook. It's different."

I raise my eyebrows inquisitively. He continues, "You don't cook like most people. You don't use a cookbook or anything. You just throw stuff together. And most of the time it turns out good."

His name is Chowhound. He eats everything. I'm not rushing to Betty Crocker with my recipes.

Today is.....

National Pig Day and Peanut Butter Lover's Day.





If you pig out on peanut butter does this count for celebrating both?

But, I'm serious today is National Pig Day. If you forgot to send a card don't despair. You can find some here.

There have been some pretty famous pigs. How many can you name? And I'm not including politicians here.

There's Miss Piggy. Babe. Wilbur. And of course, Porky Pig. You can cheat and go check out some of these sites.

I still haven't quite figured out the connection between pigs and peanut butter. But, today is also Peanut Butter Lover's Day.

So, pig out on peanut butter cups and have a wonderful day!