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March,
April, May and June 2004 archives
Read from the bottom, up!
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06-28-04 - Home again! - Day one of Costa Rica trip! Well, we're back, better than ever! The wedding is over. The honeymoon is finished and we're back to Home Sweet Home! The wedding itself was fabulous - definitely my "dream" wedding. People told us it was like being at a carnival and as luck would have it, a wedding was going on at the same time! And the real compliment - which we heard over and over and over and over was: "I hope this wedding changes all future weddings forever!" If you want a weird and wacky (but fun) wedding with NO unhappy children or parents, all you have to do is have four skydiving Elvises, a cotton candy machine, a bouncy tent, two kiddie pools, water balloons, Frisbees, unlimited beer, wine (for the parents) and cool aid (for the kids), a pig roast with fun side dishes and a "wedding cake" - consisting of three tiers of assorted Twinkies, Ho-hos and Zingers. The cake was, by far, the most loved item at the wedding - HUGE kudos to sister Shannon for that and EVERYTHING else. Couldn't have done it without ya, kiddo! So we did the wedding thing, and the reception, then off we jetted to Costa Rica for 8 days. Wow - whatta trip! Brian slept for the flight out, but I marveled at Cuba from the skies - it's so UNinhabited as compared to the US! Before we go any further, I have to say that my FIRST impression on Costa Rica varies GREATLY from my final opinion of the same country - which, I feel, is possibly one of the most beautiful, friendly, INCREDIBLY WONDERFUL places I have ever been in my life. I highly recommend this trip to anyone who loves the outdoors and exploring unique places - Costa Rica has so much wildlife diversity, (flora, fauna AND people and places) and interesting hidden spots to visit - there's something for everyone. We landed in San Jose and, as mentioned, my first impression was *not* a very positive one. The city was unbelievably different from anything you'd see in the US. It was very dirty and run down, and there were dogs running around everywhere. When I thrust my snobby nose in the air, Brian laughed at me and said, "Welcome to your first third world country, babe!" I was so nervous at first - I had been reading all the websites and tour books which told me to guard my valuables because there are thieves everywhere and that they can smell a naive tourist a mile away. I started off in Costa Rica with my purse superglued to my fist, a third of my money in my bra, another third in my socks and the final third taped to my right buttock with four pounds of duct tape. Note to future Costa Rican travelers: DO NOT believe everything you read in those tourist books. Costa Rica is NOT full of thieves (we didn't meet a single one), and contrary to what the books tell you, everyone down there does NOT speak English, and they do NOT all accept American money! We rented out car - a cool jeep-ish looking thing - and I patted the "guard" dog at the rental shop, who gave me fleas and kissed my hand relentlessly in an attempt to scare me off. After we signed away our lives, they handed us the keys and we headed for the open roads of Costa Rica, which, by the way, can scarcely be called "roads" in many sections of the country. "Cow paths" might even be too generous. They might be better called "that long space where big palm trees ain't growin." Oh, and there are no names of roads. And even if they were named, there are no signs to identify them. "Gwamity-loopa mucks-nupabuffle-troo" Which (what is sounded like to me), is Spanish for "turn by the fourth palm tree after the broken red truck. " No, I don't speak Spanish. Brian speaks a very-small-amount - just enough to get us into trouble. We drove out of San Jose - which is a bad place to start off because it is an inaccurate representation of what the rest of the country is like - and we headed toward Volcan Arenal. People in Costa Rica don't know what "Arenal Volcano" is. But is you ask for "Vulcan Adenal" they know exactly what you're talking about. We drove for about five hours on an unnamed road, asked directions a few times and got a pointed finger response, which translated to "That way." It was rainy and cloudy and it wasn't until the next day when the clouds broke that we realized that you normally can see "Volcan Arenal" from about fifty kabillion miles away, and the whole time we were driving, it was right in front of us. We just couldn't see it because the clouds were in the way. It's not any wonder that the locals were looking at us like we were the biggest morons on earth. We made it though - we drove through the mountains, up and down winding twisty (scary) roads and finally made it to the Tabacon Resort at the base of Volcan Arenal. We checked in, walked around to the hot springs, ate delicious foods and thoroughly enjoyed our stay at this place. It rained a bit - but it was totally ok. It didn't bother us at all and it was the perfect place for us to relax and unwind from the wedding chaos. I'll tell you all about the rest of our trip in the days to come! Tomorrow: Quepos! Peace, till next |
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06-14-04 - I is married. Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Brian Piper! The wedding was a huge success - perfect weather, perfect food and the perfect guy. What more could I ask for? :-) The flying Elvises landed safely - glittering in their polyester pantsuits the whole flight. My red dress was perfectly candy-apple-ish. The cotton candy machine was a hit. I'm packing, cleaning and getting ready for the honeymoon, so this is just a quick note to let everyone know that we actually went through with it and got married. ;-) In the meantime, pull up a chair, have a cocktail on me and quiz yourself on how to make a "YOU" drink!
Peace, till next |
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06-08-04 - How hot is it? It's hotter 'n two rats $crewing in a wool sock. That's how hot it is. Brian and I heard somebody say that statement on tv late last night, just as we were falling asleep, and it scored sleepy giggle fits from both of us. Less than FOUR days till the big M A R R I E D. Woohoo! I've been mowing and bagging grass all morning so our guests aren't walking around with 14 pounds of dead wet grass stuck to their feet. And now it's too hot to move, and I'm very, very lazy. So I'm off to SHOP. :-) We're down to four days and my groom has nothing to wear. His mail-order attire - four Elvis costumes, made from white saran wrap, was ummmm, shall we say, inappropriate at best - completely obscene, at worst. Although Elvis DID wear fring-ey jumpsuits, he *never* wore one made of plastic wrap, and no matter what anyone tells you, a white plastic wrap fringed jumpsuit is not going to look good on *anyone.* Brian ordered a large for himself - but apparently "Large" is for short, fat Elvii - not tall thin ones. The jumpsuit was about 1 foot too short in the torso/groin and Brian was forced into hunchback-ed-ness. When he stood up straight, his voice rose about 6 octaves. No more deep, crooning, pouty Elvis tunes for this flying glitterboy, nosirreee. Standing tall would induce great pain on special places, and neither Brian nor I could deal with A) the resulting facial expressions, B) the pain, or C) the way the suit looked on him. I mean silly is silly - and we're ALL for silly - but this was downright TACKY. Yeah, I know that the rented cotton candy machine, inflatable ball pits, blue porta potties as the background for all the wedding photos, my candy apple red wedding gown, and of course, flying Elvii ARE kinda tacky . . . but we can only do so much tacky before it's just redundant and boring. So the too-short saran wrap Elvis costumes were laid to rest. Tonight the Briguy is shopping at the local costume rental shop. They're going to "class" my boys up real good. And they promised: NO SARAN WRAP JUMPSUITS!!! The house is clean. The dog is whining about having to go to doggie hotel. I've spent two days blowing up a kiddie pool - geesh - those things are a LOT bigger than when *I* was a kid! Or maybe they just seem bigger because Mom and Dad were inflating them for us. Tonight: yard detail - the last one before two days of thunderstorms. Tomorrow: Brian's mom and brother arrive and we kidnap Brian. Thursday, Brian is OFF! He shops for final food items. Friday - final cleanup day, food prep, tables and chairs are set up, we eat a big burger feast at our favorite fifties diner. Saturday - sunny and 75-80 degrees - ball pit arrives, cotton candy machine arrives, and we get MARRIED! HUZZAH!!! :-) I'll probably not have time to update until after the wedding. So if not, Peace, till next :-) Next time you "see" me, I'll be Heather Piper! (Sounds so Scottish, doesn't it?) |
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06-02-04 - Rabies Schmabies. We've got WOOD CHIPS! We rented a wood chipper, a power paint sprayer and scaffolding, and managed to paint the entire house exterior in four hours on Saturday. My sister, her hubby, my mom and Joe Ryan came out to help. Skye misbehaved and spent the entire weekend barking his fool head off. Yep. Doggie Hotel for the wedding, definitely. We've seen a slew of movies over the past few weeks. Here are my reviews: TROY: Wait for it on video. Brad is hot in his leather miniskirt. Orlando is a wimp, but hot, nonetheless. The costumes were nothing spectacular. The acting was fine, but unless you're really into fight scenes, you're not going to be wild for this movie. It was MUCH TOO LONG. SHREK 2: is a MUST see. We laughed through the entire flick. The animation was fabulous. The "acting" was flawless and the humor was better than trying to speak with a swollen tongue in the middle of the night. THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW: Another MUST see. We were on the edge of our seats throughout the whole thing. Even if the storyline was fake, we didn't know it. Everything was explained really well, without any holes for the average Joe or Josephine. I didn't question the storyling at all - and I even took meteorology in college. (granted, I didn't do WELL in meteorology - but I passed.) On Sunday, after the house was painted and the wood was chipped, Brian and I did some straightening. Brian cleared out the shed and hauled out the basement to rip out the old shelves and replace them with non-rottable plastic ones. He spent his time going back and forth between the two projects and I started cleaning inside. I took Skye out for a potty break at one point and we walked over to investigate Brian's shed-cleaning chore. Skye poked his head inside the shed and we both heard: rawwwwwwwwwschumpaluffffrawwwwwwwwwwwwchk
. . . I froze. I screamed. I knew whatever it was was poised, ready to pounce and was clearly planning a gourmet feast of raw Heather with Skye appetizer. "BRIIIIIIIIIIIIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Brian came running over and I tried to explain while Skye did his gaspy-stetch-the-leash-past-normal-breathing-capacity trick. <gaspgaspgasp> "It's alive! It's in there <frantically pointing> It's HUNGRY! Get it! Get it!" Briguy: What is it? Me: I don't know but it's making noises and running toward me and it's going to kill us! Briguy: <pulling down shed boards and moving stuff carelessly> Where is it? Me: IT'S RIGHT THERE! STOP! IT WILL KILL YOU! He stops. We listen. Silence. Brian looks at me with certain doubt plastered on his face. Briguy: Honey, you might be . . . ummm. . . . crazy. There's absolutely nothing in here. Me: <in a huff> I am NOT crazy! It was going to kill me! Skye heard it too! Right, Skye? Skye: <gaspgaspgasp> Briguy: What did it sound like? Me: A puppy. But mad. And killer-ish. Briguy: <one last thump on the wall, just to prove there was nothing preparing to attack> Mmmmm-hmmmmmm. You just call if you need me to kill the monsters again, k? <wink, wink> Skye and I darted up behind Brian and followed him back to the house. *I* knew there was a killer inside. Even if HE didn't. We both went back to work and Brian continued to rip out the shelves in the basement. He pulled out two doors, which I determined would serve as a PERFECT temporary bridge to replace our old rotting metal one out back. (We have a "moat" running through our back yard, and the current bridge needs replacing). I hauled one door out to the old bridge. I hauled the second door out to the bridge. I reached down to pull up the old rotting metal bridge and heard: rawwwwwwwwwschumpaluffffrawwwwwwwwwwwwchk Translation: Your boyfriend was very smart. You, however, are very stupid. You couldn't leave me in peace in the shed, so now I will be the troll living under your bridge - and if you touch it, I will claw off your arms, eat your toes like m & ms, disembowel you and devour your liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. <slurpslurpslurp> "BRIIIIIIIIIIIIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I cried and started backing up, falling over my own feet. "Mwahahahaha," laughed the troll. Brian came running again - broom and dustpan in hand. "WHAT?!?!?!?!" he screamed! "It's there! It's under the bridge! I'm NOT crazy! It's going to kill us! It's BIG and it's MEAN and it's REALLY PI**ED OFF!!!!" Brian walked up to the bridge and lifted up a corner of it with his broom. SNARL SNARL HISS HISS . . . gwallllowwwwgwalllllll . . . Brian laughed, amused. "It's hissing!" he said. Me: I told you I wasn't hearing things! What is it? It's scary! Make it go away! STOP! It'll kill you! Get it out of there!! STOP! Don't poke at it! STOP! Briguy: <laughing> Relax! It's not going to get us! I have a broom AND a dustpan!! He latched the broom head under the bridge and gave it a good yank. We saw the troll. It saw us. It was creepy times a kazillion. Have you ever seen "Little House on the Prairie?" You know how Laura was always bringing home cute furry little prairie critters and she would love them and they would love her and they would do something heroic to be loved by the world, like pulling Laura from a burning building or fetching Pa to save Carrie because she had fallen into a well? Those critters - the badgers and wombats and weasles and racoons were always all chittery and purry and cute and cuddly and braid-headed Laura would hug them and say "I love you, critter X" with tears falling down her freckled face. "Oh, Pa, you can't shoot him. I love him. <sniffle> And afterall, he saved Carrie from the well. If he had rabies, he'd never have pulled me from the burning barn. Right, Pa? Can't I keep him? PLEASE?" <SNAP back to reality.> Raccons ain't cute when they're all snarly and hissing and trapped under a bridge. They resemble angry trolls. They don't make cute chirpitty/chitter noises. And I don't think they like to be hugged. Our prairie critter (a really gross raccoon) was covered in matty-dirt-mud and he stood there, hissing, teeth bared, staring us down, and DARING us to approach, ready to rip off our limbs and laugh while doing it. Brian's broom didn't make him quite as invincible anymore - even if he DID have a dustpan. We shouted "Scat! Get! Go on! Get outta here!" It stared at us hungrily from the moat. I swear I heard its stomach growl thinking about his possible Heathery-Brian feast. <mmmm, tastes like chicken.> But it did not move from the moat. After a while the staring got to be kind of ridiculous, so Brian and I backed up, broom poised in defense mode, dustpan at the ready. As we walked away, I saw it exit the moat and troddle off into the woods. I could have sworn he flipped us the "special finger" as he waddled away. I haven't seen him since then, so I'm hoping he won't show up for cocktails at the wedding. Although, I suppose he could pal around with the flying Elvises. They could share a few beers and good laughs and go pass out under the bridge together. Peace, till next |
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05-28-04 - FIFTEEN DAYS! We're down to the wire, here! only 15 days till the BIG DAY! It has been raining non-stop for the past two weeks and our mudbog backyard has become Lake Lima. Our house might float away. I;ve given up the notion that my wedding day will be filled with romantic flower petals sprinkling down from the trees, and cool green grasses will tickle my bare toes, and sparkle lights will shimmer in the trees. Instead I'll be floating in a brown puddle, wearing yellow wellies, with bright blue-boy Portajohns in the backdrop, and bits of tree bark smacking me in the face from the high winds. <fwapfwapfwap> Mother Nature has a great sense of humor. ;-) Skyeboy will be at Doggie Hotel during the wedding. As much as I'd love for him to prance down the aisle with our wedding bands laced to a white satiny pillow on his back, I know better. He would chomp the wedding bands, eviscerate the pillow in about a 1/2 of a nano-second and would bolt off to Parts Unknown before we could catch him The little bugger is =====F A S T. The groom received his wedding and usher suits in the mail yesterday. Yep. Nothing says "class" like mailorder groom's attire. ;-) Anyone going to see "The Day After TOmorrow" tonight? Brian and I have been having fun with it. Me: Hey, baby! Let's go see the movie The Day After Tomorrow! He: Sure! What movie do you want to see? Me: The Day After Tomorrow! He: Yeah, I've got nothing going on that day, we can see a movie - but what do you want to see? ************************************ The other day - I think it was Tuesday - Brian and I woke up at the same time, sat up witha jolt, looked at each other - not believing what we were hearing - and burst into fits of giggles. Someone was standing right outside out house playing Reveille on a trumpet. "Ummm, is that . . . REVEILLE?" I asked. "It sure is!" Brian said with his lovely toothy grin. "I guess that means it's time to get up!" Sometimes I feel like I live on an episode of Northern Exposure. I love it. Peace, till next |
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05-19-04 - Troy? Has anyone seen "Troy" yet? I want to, but don't know if I can sit still for almost three hours - even if we do get to look at chiton-clad Brad Pitt and Orlando bloom. Three hours is still a long time for a fidgety gal like me. I had a dream last night that I declared the fleur de lis as the official symbol for pickles. The Briguy is going skydiving tonight. He's been working so much around the house that I'm practically pushing him out the door to go have a bit of fun. I'm so grateful for all the work he's doing, but I'm starting to feel a little guilty because he's giving up all of his free time. I hope he has fun tonight. :-) He deserves it. Our neighbor, Ethan, is taking pilot lessons and his Dad is trying to talk me into taking them too. And I'm seriously thinking about it. I *love* flying, and I've always wanted to be a pilot - and how happy would the Briguy be if I could fly him around so he could jump out of airplanes? I'm going to wait until after the wedding to make a decision, but I'm thinking it might be a lot of fun to learn how to fly! I could be Maggie O'Connell from Northern Exposure and be an Alaskan pilot. Hmmm. Something to think about, for sure! Only 24 days left until the BIG DAY! We've rented a cotton candy machine. All the children will be covered in sugar and ants. YAY! :-) Peace, till next |
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05-17-04 - Rupert. <grin> Nice guys do finish first. I think it's safe to say that the world is THRILLED that Rupert won the million bucks. Brian has finally come fairly close to finishing his Survivor video and with any luck, he'll be chosen. The video is good. Damn good - and when he has it completed I'll pester him to put it online for the world to see. Special HUGE thanks to Kathy, Jane and Julie for throwing Brian and me a couples wedding shower. It was a BLAST and we got to see so many good friends that we haven't seen in a while. To the KJJ trio - Brian and I are immensely grateful for throwing this shindig for us. We had a great time and received so many wonderful gifts. THANK YOU! Brian's favorite gift, however, was from his co-worker, Bill (from Christmas tree cutting fame). As you all know, we had our entire side yard cleared out by the big bulldozer, and we have NO grass over there. None. Zip. Nada. Wedding in three weeks + no grass = mudbog dirt-covered wedding guests (or primo mud wrestling). So Bill pitched in and gave us a FABULOUS shower gift:
Yep. He gave us grass. Granted, we'll need a little bit more to fill in the gaps, but it's a nice start, wouldn't you say? Bill, buddy, we'll save this spot just for you on our wedding day. You rock. I was in the Big M grocery store the other day and saw brightly colored bottles of Boone's Farms malt beverage. I almost bought them because they matched our kitchen perfectly. I told Brian about it and he informed me that Boone's Farm isn't exactly *quality* beverage material and, even though it comes in pretty colors, I shouldn't waste my money. He then designated himself as the 'House Purchaser of Alcoholic Beverages" because he disagreed with my reasoning of "it'll look so much prettier in the wine rack than those boring bottles of red stuff." Peace, till next |
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05-09-04 - The final Day of Rupert QUICKIE JOURNAL NOTE: Well, here we are - the FINAL episode of THE RUPERT SHOW is on in just a few hours. I'm off to buy some avocados for our usual grand guacamole feast (complete with lime chips!) Our little Rupert fan club, which actually *isn't* so little anymore, will be tuning in and cheering our favorite pirate on! (Aaaargh, mateys!) Every time I make a post about Rupert, I get hundreds of emails from other Rupert fans out there, so I *know* there are going to be a lot of people tuning in tonight!
GO, RUPERT! :-) In the meantime, I happened to stumble across his official website, and you can buy very groovy Rupert tee-shirts! Click here to visit Rupert's site and buy a tee-shirt. And don't forget to let the big burlyguy know that I'll gladly make him a hand made kilt, in honor of his first Survivor skirt-wearin' gig! (but mostly because we think he is FABULOUS!) Go don your Survivor buffs and kick back for the final episode, and cheer for Rupert! Even if he doesn't get the million, he will *always* be our Survivor winner! Peace, till next |
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05-07-04
- The day after the WOOHOO!!!! Could we be any happier for young Rupert Boneham! He is *so* close to winning Survivor and I am *thrilled!* We had to record it last night because we met with the town judge - the man who will be marrying us! But my Favorite Roop is in the final FOUR! He's playing a damn good game and out of all of them, he's my sure pick winner. The only problem is that I'm afraid he will be picked off next, unless he wins immunity. Because *nobody* could win against Rupert if he makes it to the final two. Everybody *loves* the Roop man. It's the law. So, at the wedding meeting last night, we talked about the ceremony and our marrying-man came up with some fabulous ideas. Needless to say, the event is going to be pretty fun and very creative and FILLED with surprises!! Only 36 more days! This will be "Wood Chipper Weekend" at our house. We're going to be cooking up a nice pile of mulch, and will get rid of the giant bramble piles taking over our back yard. We'll spread the mulch over the two foundations out there and next will be raking and seeding the yard and finding out where to get an acre of sand to build a volleyball court. Brian scored three telephone poles. The electric company people dropped them off last night in our front yard. Brian has his climbing wall all mapped out and as soon as we finish everything we need to get done for the wedding, he can start building it. He may even have it done in time for the wedding. In
the meantime, I'm still sewing along. Making great progress. I have
about two more weeks of sewing to complete, and then I'll be taking
time off for the wedding and honeymoon. Can't wait! Peace, till next |
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05-06-04 - I'm stalking Costa Rica My life was empty without any sort of a screensaver or desktop wallpaper for almost a year. I had moved all of my screensaver photos to a new file and for an eternity, anytime my screensaver clicked on, a little scrolling message would run across my computer screen saying: "no files found at xxxx/xxxx/xxxx" Brian has a fabulous screen saver filled with hours and hours of fun pictures of his travels around the world. I'm jealous of his screensaver. So that little message on my computer, announcing that I have "no files," was essentially telling the world "Heather has no life." Obviously I don't have pictures of myself traveling the world - since I haven't - so I thought maybe I could fill my screensaver file with pictures of fabulous costuming! I set out collecting pictures of my very most favorite costumes - movie costumes, historical gowns, reproductions and on and on and on. As you all know I really enjoyed The Forsyte Saga - especially the costuming. So I nabbed a few pictures of those - and in the process I found a newsgroup of people who liked TFS. I joined and found a jackpot of excellent FS pictures - INCLUDING screensavers AND desktop wallpaper! So I picked a wallpaper, a lovely one of a combination of snarling Damien Lewis and Smiling Damien Lewis pictures, downloaded it and selected it as my wallpaper. A few nights later Brian was testing some software on my computer and saw the wallpaper. "Nice wallpaper, honey! Isn't it a little stalker-ish?" <wink, wink> Hmmm. Yeah. It was kinda stalkerish. So now I've switched it to a pretty landscape scene, and now I'm stalking Costa Rica. I guess we've all got our little quirks, eh? Life in pictures 95 percent of our (mine and Brian's) conversations need to be seen, not heard. Be sure to click on the underlined links for your very own illustrated story. The Briguy is in California learning about 3-D animation, and will be coming home in about an hour. Last night we chatted on the phone and I told him about all the exciting things happening around here: Me: We're getting new telephone poles! He: Really? What do you mean? How many? Me: Two! One on either side of the house! He: Don't we *already* have telephone poles there? Me: Yes, but apparently they suck. So now we get new ones. The electric people came over in a convoy of trucks the other day and left two poles in our yard! He: Hmmmmm. Really? <I can hear the gears turning and his eyebrows raising, and I know what he's thinking . . . > He: I need them! I can use them for lots of things! I. I. I. I can use them for my climbing wall! He: Hmmmm. <there goes the eyebrow again.> Me: <pause. Trying to think of a way to keep him out of telephone pole prison - at least until after the wedding.> Why don't you call them and see if you can have the OLD poles? I mean, if they are replacing them, it's probably because the old ones are crappy, right? <not believing I'm actually encouraging him to start a telephone pole collection> Me: So you'll call them instead of stealing them? He: Yeah! I will call them! I bet they've got LOTS of old telephone poles they don't need! Me: great. So I told Brian he can collect them, as long as they are not visible from the road. He's excited. I know he's got big plans for those poles. I sure hope the electric company lets him have them. Heh. ;-) UPDATE 3:38: Hehe, thank you to Lara for sending me this fun Quizillain response to my spelling bee entry from yesterday! My results:
Peace, till next |
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05-05-04 - Spelling Bees Before spell check took over my brain and started doing all my thinking for me, I *used* to be a decent speller. Now I type, and since computers have a bigger brain than I do, I simply let them take over. However, I never use spellcheck on this journal, so it's filled with misspellings and errors - and I kinda like it that way. It reads exactly the way I think - a big flurry of chaotic, random ramblings. Me laughing at myself, making a geek of myself - and the spelling errors are a free bonus: Kind of a spare reason to laugh, just in case I'm not very funny. But that doesn't mean I can't giggle a little when it comes to other people's misspelled words. I *love* to patrol eBay for funny misspellings. (Not that I have *ANY* right to pick on them - I don't. My spelling is horrific and sloppy.) For example: In my line of work, people make "reproduction gowns and dresses." I can't help but laugh whenever I see a "reproductive gown or dress" listed on eBay. It sends me into fits of laughter trying to picture it. My second favorite misspelling is for items with "Crotchet Lace" (See, I'm giggling even as I type it. It's funny, isn't it?) But my all-time verymostfavorite misspelled item on ebay is for people who are selling their "Bowels" on ebay. Do you collect carnival glass? If so, you can purchase your very own: or if you're looking to spice up the decor in your home, you can buy an elegant: or, if you have food and water with you, but you lack just the right container to carry it, you can buy a: Food/Water bowel, Leak proof, Portable for those who appreciate the finer things in life, you can buy a: Silver Plated with blue glass insert Sugar Bowel Or, if you need to protect your silver bowel, you can buy an: 8" Sliver plated bowel with plastic liner (Although, technically the above bowel is a SLIVER plated one, not a SILVER plated one. No wonder you'd need a plastic liner. I would imagine that a sliver plated one would hurt.) Hah. I'm peeing myself I'm laughing so hard. Hmmm. I think that means I have officially fallen into the abyss of the pathetic. I need a hobby. Peace, till next |
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05-04-04 - Too Much Pondering & Dandies I have never been able to look at dandelions as though they are weeds. I find fields of them to be one of the loveliest sights on earth. Anytime I drive past an unkempt field of soft green grass with peppered flecks of those cursed dusty-yellow blooms, I can't help but smile and think to myself: "Ahhh, somebody hasn't seen you yet." But somebody will see them. And they'll go nuts with the Weed-Away spray and read books about how to get rid of the pesky things. Not me. I love 'em. I love how they turn your fingers and nose yellow when you pick them or smell them. Yellow is cheery-good. It's like leaves in autumn. I can never bring myself to rake them up. Sure, they kill grass and look like Hell in the spring all matty-grunged. But for a few weeks out of the year, it looks like somebody dumped a mother-load of rusty-rosy confetti on my world. I want to let it linger. I usually do - and my grass dies. But that's ok, because my lawn looks like a giant party scene all throughout October. So even thought the dandies are in bloom and my verymostfavorite lilacs are *almost* in bloom, today was one of my least favorite days of the year: The annual "girly-doctor-appointment-day." Bleh. Does anyone *ever* look forward to the girly-doc day? "Why hello, Doctor! It's that time of year again! It's so good to see you!" Nope. Can't see that happening in this lifetime. So to make myself feel a little less annoyed about stirrups and "skooching" to the end of a paper-wrapped table while wearing only a tablecloth, I went shopping. I bought Brian some nice summer shirts to replace the ones that are covered with coffee stains, and some earthy cargo shorts - because that boy can never have too many pockets. I picked up some goodies for my grandmother, who I have been missing lately. I looked for clothes for Li'l Eet, but they were all ridiculously moronic. (Doesn't anyone make *cool* baby boy clothes? Why do clothing companies want to make our children look stupid? ) and I bought some fun outdoor toys for the wedding. So now I'm off to make a few care packages and some macaroni and cheese - because Doc says I need more calcium in my life. (noting another excuse to eat more ice cream) And somehow I'm two inches shorter than I always thought I was. . . . or I've shrunk two inches in the last year. . . or maybe all this time I was just guessing at how tall I was. . . . And I bought two new books - one is the DaVinci Code - three people have told me it's a MUST READ. So I shall read. I also bought Running with Scissors. Brian read it on a plane while sitting next to a wonderfully friendly Mormon who was on a return flight from an important mission - and Brian said that the book would be considered very inappropriate reading when sitting next to a Mormon who was returning from an important mission. So the curiosity killed me into buying my very own inappropriate copy, and even though I won't have anyone sitting next to me to offend (Skye does not offend easily) I'll read it anyway. Dandelions and ice cream for EVERYONE! Peace, till next |
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04-30-04 - Daytime programming Where do all of the television and movie stars from the 60s and 70s go ? To the $25,000 Pyramid to hang with Donny Osmond! Today the Professor from Gilligan's Island is on Pyramid. That professor, in his day, was quite a catch, eh? I changed my mind about my wedding dress AGAIN and decided to buy one. So I did. And it's different from the last one I bought, and different from the one I was going to make. It's got yellow roses on it - and I love yellow roses. :-) I found out two things about my hunky hero, Brian, within the past 24 hours. A) He rocks because he fixed our lawn mower AND mowed the lawn last night. He's a mechanical GENIUS and a good mower. Our grass (where there is grass) is pretty now. B) He sleep-lies. What's that, you ask. I'll tell ya. He LIES when he is asleep! This morning I woke up, rolled over and saw Brian sleeping soundly beside me. I looked at the clock, because I rarely wake before he does (unless it's the weekend). The clock told me with was quarter till 8. Me: <nudge, nudge> Darlin''? Brian: <gzzzzzzzzzzzzckckckckc> Me: Baby! <poke> Brian: <one eye squeaks open> uuuun. Me: Baby, it's quarter to eight. Brian: <one freaky unfocused eye is still open> unnnn. uuuuup. mmmm. Me: What time do you normally get up, sweetie? Brian: <freaky eye glazed and looking at nothing> mmmmm. usually now ish. Me: OK. So I roll over and wait for him to get up, and after a few minutes, when he doesn't, I get up to sneak into the bathroom. While I'm in there, I hear him leaping out of bed and scuffling around. Brian: ACK! I overslept! I'm gonna be late! Me: Ummmm, what're you talking about? I woke you up about ten minutes ago and you said this was when you always get up! Brian: Wha? <cramming sock on foot and doing one-legged dance around the room> No?!!! I always get up at six! Me: <aghast> You LIED??? You sleep-lied to me! Brian: Heh! I guess I must have! Heh! <grin> So we did our Brian-is-late shuffle for speed-coffee, speed-dog-pee-trip and speed-garbage-to-the-curb - a quick kiss goodbye and he's off. When I am late, it throws my entire day into a chaotic, disaster-ridden tailspin. Smiles? I have none when I'm running late. Yet, young Brian left this morning with a sparkle in his eye, a toothy smile on his face and a pair of mismatched socks - and I really feel like I'm the luckiest gal in the world to have snagged him all for myself. Only 43 days left, and I can hardly wait! ;-) Peace, till next |
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04-29-04 - Homestretch Mmmm-kay. We've only got a little over 40 days till the wedding, so we're officially on the homestretch. We've booked the honeymoon - we're going to Costa Rica - a place I've *always* wanted to visit. We're gonna sleep with the monkeys and McCaws. I hope I don't catch rabies. I'm sitting up here in my little nook of the upstairs front room study, watching the little neighbor child as he waits at the end of his drive, sweetly calling to his brother, "The bus is coming!" Ahhhhh, fond memories. Remember those flurried school day morning routines? Gathering school books while mom lovingly makes a big bowl of warm Maypo to fill your belly and keep your brain working hard all day? Yeah. Not at our house. There was nothing "routine" about our school morning rituals. Poor Dad. He was the only male in a house of four women, and an early-morning riser: Up before the sun rose and off to work before we started in with our squawking and nastiness. What a lucky guy. If I weren't so disgusted by cold, dark, pre-dawn (before-the-birdies-wake) hours, I probably would have gone with him, just to avoid getting grounded every morning. Mom would see Dad off to work, then she'd go through the waking process, starting with me, because I'm oldest. Mom: <entering my bedroom, with obnoxiously happy sing-song voice> Good morning, Starshine! Wakey-uppy! It's a brand new day! Time to get up, Princess! <grin> Me: Gafffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff <drool> Whaffumypizzit? Mom: It's a shiny-happy six am! <grin> Me: RRRRRRgummmfubbitanzoppalommita! Mom: Ok, sweetie! We will! Time to wakey-uppy! <grin> Me: AAAAAAAAAAAA <whine> It's still black outside. Mom: I know, but you have to get in the shower before your sisters. Come on, honey, let's go. It's going to be a WONDERFUL day! <grin> <exit mom> <I fall back asleep> Two nano-seconds later mom peeks her head in my bedroom. Mom: Heather, wake up. It's getting late. <no grin> Me: Coming. <sleep> Mom <at bottom of stairs, screaming> HEATHER, GET UP!!!! I AM NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN!!!!! AND I AM NOT GOING TO DRIVE YOU TO SCHOOL IF YOU ARE LATE!!!! IF YOU MISS THAT BUS, YOU'RE SPENDING THE DAY HELPING ME!!!! I MEAN IT! YOU'RE ON THE VERGE OF GETTING GROUNDED!!!! I AM COUNTING TO THREE!!!!! <snarl, snarl> ONE!!! TWO!!! THR--- Me: I AM UP!!! JEEEEZ WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?!?!?!?!?! (don't you remember those teenaage "I hate the world and the world hates me" years? Such fun!) I would shower, followed by my sisters showering. And we would fight the *whole* time.
And then I would get grounded. The last big issue of the day was always the shoe dilemma. You've managed to get up, eat, shower, get dressed, coat your flip-back hairdo with four pounds of Aquanet hairspray, match your clothes and prepare for a day of schoolish hell without getting yourself killed, and all that's left are your shoes. I could *never* find freakin' shoes in our house. Me: MA!!!!! Where are my shoes?!?!?!?! Mom: Hmmm, let me think. Oh yes! The last time *I* wore them, I put them away. Me: <muttering> Nobody likes a smartass. So now you're grounded because you pestered the GOOD sisters. You've got a heartless mother who doesn't care if you have to go to school shoeless, and now you've got about 30 seconds before the bus was due to arrive, and the ONLY thing you could rely on every morning was that Rosie was NEVER late. The dreaded word. The word that strikes fear into your heart. The word that would send you running into four feet of snow barefoot - icy needles pentrating the soles of your feet, like walking on glass shards - and then mucking through four inches of bus slime . . . "BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" So you've got two screaming banshees out on the porch, WANTING you to lose the shoe battle. They WANT to see you panic. They WANT to see you running barefoot through the snow because you can't find the "pretty" shoes. They yearn for your failure. (Not that I didn't deserve it, mind you) <they laugh between the frantic calls of> "BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" "BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" "BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!" . . . and the big "national schoolbus chrome" tin can on wheels comes chugging up Bull Run Road. You can see Rosie grinning at you - she knows. She knows what you have to do. The sisters are howling with laughter. Mom stands by the door - her face has transformed into a giant vampire snarly-toothed "you're-sooooo-grounded-Missy" monster. You've got a millisecond to make a choice: Ugly
shoes What would you do? ;-) And in honor of Day of Rupert, meet the latest Survivor Fan:
Peace, till next |
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04-22-04 - Hoeboy We finished watching the Forsyte Saga last night. It was spectacular. Gina McKee and Damian Lewis (Irene and Soames) nailed their parts to perfection. I highly recommend watching this phenomenal BBC production. Last night Big-Bad-Bri got to play on a backhoe. We were wandering around the yard looking at all the magnificent dirt, deciding where to plant trees, and our bulldozer nieghbor, Mike, drove by and stopped to chat. He offered to teach Brian how to use the backhoe and then he could take out the remaining stumps. You shoulda seen Brian's eyes light up. It was like Christmas at Stinkbug Acres. So he fiddled with the hoe while I busted my buttocks raking the brambleweeds from the garden area, and reseeded lawn patches. After we finished, we went inside to watch a magnificent thunder storm and I whined about how my back was sore from raking. Brian commented: Ohhhh, yeah. My finger is sore too from doing all that lever-pushin' on the backhoe. <wink, wink> And then he moved in close to whisper: I really like that thing. It's like playing video games. <another wink> Geof gave us about a hundred little saplings for us to plant and I've purchased about a hundred flower bulbs. We've just got to figure out *where* they need to go. We've also got about 20 flats of seedlings we've started - lots of columbine and cone flower! Brian will have a tasty little herb garden to make his delectable dinners, and I'm planning to plant corn, beans, peas, cukes, tomatoes, hot and sweet peppers, onions, okra, squash and carrots. Mmmm. Salsa. Countdown to wedded bliss: 51 days! Peace, till next |
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04-21-04 - This Victorian gal I'm on a quest for the most excellent Victorian gown in the world. I want *real* ones to hold, to study and then I want to make one that'll fit me - because Victorian chickadees were obscenely tiny and I can't squish my butt into any of the real gowns. I've just purchased several Victorian bodices (a few have arrived with matching skirts) and the waists range from a tiny 18" to a really healthy 20". They have been filed into the "I Have a Dream" section of my closet. In preparation for working on a new line of historical clothing, I always do an obscene amount of research to study what life was like back then. (How can you make their clothes if you don't know how they lived?) And I thought it would be fun to compare myself to a typical Victorian woman and see how I'd fare: Victorian Lady's manners: A lady should be quiet in her manners, natural and unassuming in her language, careful to wound no one’s feelings, but giving generously and freely from the treasures of her pure mind to her friends. Scorning no one openly, she should feel gentle pity for the unfortunate, the inferior and the ignorant, at the same time carrying herself with an innocence and single heartedness which disarms ill nature, and wins respect and love from all. Heather: FAILED. I think that when I told Geof he was full of dog turd, I might have been a bit "scorning." I might have come across as being a little impure when I pinched Brian's tushie yesterday. Does climbing trees and wielding a chainsaw count as being "unnatural" and when my sisters flip me the "special finger," does that me I've won respect and love from all? Victorian
Grace: The beauties of the charming picture framed by one's
dress are enhanced by moving with grace. To walk with style is rare
enough, but when it comes to being able to site down in a dress
properly -- well, there are not many equal to that, I can tell you. Heather: FAILED. Chopping off one's fingertips is probably not considered "graceful." Tripping over the dog while balancing two baskets of scuzzy laundry, landing on one's face coating the room with two weeks of dirty clothes probably doesn't help. Shutteth
thy trap: Do not take pride in offensively expressing yourself
on every occasion under the impression that you will be admired
for your frankness. Speaking one's mind is an extravagance, which
has ruined many a person. We all know I failed that one. Kissing: Many times a contagious disease has been conveyed in a kiss. The kiss is a seal of pure and earnest love and should never be exchanged save between nearest and dearest friends and relatives. Indeed, public sentiment and good taste decree that even among lovers it should not be so often indulged in as to cause any regret on the part of the lady should an engagement chance to be broken off. Let promiscuous kissing, then, be consigned to the tomb of oblivion. Heather: Where's my handbasket? Y'all know where I'm going. The Bosom: Breadth of chest beautifies by showing a large place for breasts; and this a great amount of original gender, though flat breasts indicate its present decline; while narrow chests with conical breasts show fair original gender in a good present state; yet an expansive chest with the breasts large at their base, though flat, is better; and their union as in Clyte, and the Greek Slave, is by far the best. Broad chested women wield much, narrow, little power over men. Heather: FAILED. Makeup
and hair color: Proper young ladies do not indulge in cosmetics,
hair-dyes or other forms of insincerity in personal appearance.
Heather and Geof: Both FAILED. Chaperones and unmarried ladies: An unmarried young woman, up to the age of thirty, must always accompanied by a chaperone when she goes out. This is to ensure that she is innocent, and to compel others to respect her innocence. It is the chaperone's duty to investigate the background and social standing of bachelors who come into the girl's orbit and keep at bay those who do not pass muster. Heather: technically an OLD MAID and does not require a chaperone any more. ;-) Butt Cheeks: On horseback, a lady rode side saddle, alternating sides each day so as not to develop an overly enhanced buttock on one side. Riding astride was looked on as risqué. Heather: Has two overly developed buttocks. Engagement: Once a woman is engaged, she should be tender, assiduous and unobtrusive. Heather: Yep, that's me. Quiet and unassuming. Marriage: Home is the woman's kingdom, and there she reigns supreme. Thus is it her duty to make happy the lives of her husband and her family. She should never do anything to make her husband feel uncomfortable, either mentally or physically. She should never indulge in fits of temper, hysterics or other habits of ill-breeding. A wife should act openly and honorably in keeping household accounts. She should keep exact account of her expenditures, and guard against any extravagances. She should be economical and thrifty. She should consult the disposition and tastes of her husband, and endeavor to lead him to high and noble thoughts, lofty aims and temporal comfort. Heather: Wonders if skydiving qualifies as a "lofty aim." Brian sent me a fun link (Manor House, Edwardian Life) the other day. I took the Snob-o-meter quiz, which told me that I was only 68% snob and that I just didn't cut the Edwardian mustard as a true snob. I love all the clothing from the Victorian and Edwardian eras, but my personality clashes with the etiquette too much to step back in time. Between my colored hair, vulgar mouth, and inability to "reign supreme" over my household, I would have been shoved into a stockade pretty quickly. Oh well, I'm gonna make those pretty dresses anyway. I'm gonna cram my overdeveloped buttock into the skirts and if anyone has anything to say about it, they can bite me. How's that for Victorian etiquette? ;-) Peace, till next |
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04-19-04 - SUMMERTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME! The sun is FINALLY OUT! WOOHOO! All weekend long we had sunny, balmy weather, so I had to get outside while it lasted and get some much-needed yard work done. The wedding is in just two months (in our backyard) and things are kinda messy out there right now. We have this great old barn foundation in back. I thought it would make a fabulous "green" patio. There are three nice trees growing in there, giving ample foliage cover. There's some beautiful moss growing on the ground too - if possible, I'll keep the moss. But if not, I'll get some paving stones. I started clearing all the downed trees out, all the leaves, sticks and weeds. I finished half of it on Saturday. The other half has big tree bodies, which need to be cut into smaller pieces. I just can't move them alone. Sunday started off with sun, so I hopped out of bed and started clearing the area in front of the shed. It was such a mess in there - lots of farm equipment (chicken fencing, what I believe are "insulators," long poles with rolly things on them and very heavy metal poles). Plus a ton of prickery bushes and more sticks and bramble. But I did it! In the process I found a wonderful old grinding stone. I know there's something I can do with it. I also found a really old level inside the barn. I've also found three old marbles too! Every time I take Skye for his potty break, I walk over the area that was recently bulldozed (pictures below!) and the last three times I walked over that area, I've found a marble! One is really big - I think it's an agate marble - white with yellow. The second marble is glass, I think, white with orange swirls. This morning's marble is a bluish clear glass with a swirl of teal through the center. Very pretty! I know you wanted pics, so here are a few to keep you busy!
And now a story written by my nephew, Ethan.
Peace, till next |
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04-05-04 - It's a beau-tee-ful day in the neigh-bor-hood I *love* my neighbors. I really do - and I know not many people can say that. How do I know this? Because I watch Judge Judy. All winter long, any time it snowed, one of our three neighbors with snowblowers or plows would rush over and clean out our driveway for us. Our neighbor Mike showed up the other day with his "big toys" (Giant bulldozers) and cleared our entire side yard - FAB! I'll nab some pictures from Geof and post them soon. It's a completely different place out there - Skye *loves* it. But things are coming together for the wedding and the house - I've been insanely busy with work and trying to finish up my taxes - which is why I'm such a delinquent with my journal. :-( Only a few more weeks though, and I'll be closing up shop to prepare for the wedding - so if you're planning to place an order, do it quickly! Any orders placed after May 1 won't be shipped until *after* July 1! Peace, till next |
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04-05-04 - Heather's Soapbox. A rarity. I'm still very busy with orders, so I will post some links for you over the next few days. I'll take a break from my usual mindless blather, and give ya stuff to think about. Some good, some bad - but all stuff to make you feel something. None of it is meant to offend, just meant to make you think. I don't like to assert my opinions. They're mine, and I don't expect anyone else to agree with me. I'm not looking to change minds - I just want people to create their own opinion and decide how you want to feel about these things - and maybe we'll even find some answers. ;-) Even though I try to avoid it, once in a while a stray bit of intellectual fodder seeps into my noggin, forces me to chew it over for a while and actually develop an opinion - or better yet, create a reason to kick up a stir. One of my friends posted this link in her journal and it was too important to ignore. So I'm posting it for you. It's a website created by a lady named Elena, who drives her 147-horsepower Kawasaki Ninja through Chernobyl and photographs the barren landscapes. It's a disturbing photo essay, so if you don't want to look, simply don't click the link. . . . but you should know about it. We need to do something. Now for my soapbox. Bear with me. One of my pet peeves with today's society is that we suffer from a horrifying lack of accountability. We refuse to own up to anything - and while we pass the buck, we're passing the behavior on to our children. I saw this attitude on a daily basis when I was volunteering with at-risk teens before I moved to Rochester. All the wrongs in our lives are blamed on anything but ourselves: Society, our parents, our peers, the environment, the government - it's always someone else's fault. Rarely do we stop and say, "Hey, I have the power to change this." We simply have to recognize that we don't always have to assign blame. We simply need to recognize the problem and make an effort to fix it. Fixing the problem is not an admission of guilt. It's an admission of compassion. By denying responsibility, we deny solutions. It's so much easier to ignore things or pass the blame and wait for the next guy to fix it, than it is to face the problems, especially when it's not in our own backyard. We, as the collective human race *are* responsible for this modern Chernobyl. We did this. We need to fix it. If you mess up, 'fess up - and then fix it. It's not only the responsibility of Chernobyl. It's the responsibility of the human race - the world - and unless we take responsibility on that level, will the problem be solved? How to solve it? What's preventing a solution? Money. Accountability. Responsibility. You name it. Rolling the facts around in my head, I can't help but wonder. I imagine what one year of presidential campaign funds could do to assist with the repair the sarcophagus at Chernobyl. Am I the only person who ponders such things? I don't think I am. But it's not our problem, right? Sometimes it seems the only way we can eradicate this attitude of "It's not my fault, so it's not my problem" is to eradicate ourselves. I think after seeing this website, it's safe to say that we're well on our way. The solution is out there - This person could have the answer, or this person, or these people - The latter, who summed it up quite poignantly. "The engineers in Livermore may be able to provide a solution someday. Somebody will have to. The little planet we live on really doesn't have room for bad science" Peace, till next |
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04-01-04 - See it! It's worth it! 'Tis a Day of Rupert and my sweetie is a sick chick. He's sleeping downstairs waiting for dinner (I made leeeeeetle-cheeeeekins). I have a few minutes before the leetle-cheekins are completely burned (they're only semi-burned right now) so I thought I'd write down a few quick endorsements. First - my latest addiction is a series of movies called The Forsyte Saga, which recently aired on PBS' Masterpiece Theatre. (Remember Cookie Monster's "Monsterpiece Theatre," with Alistaire Cookie?) Anyway
- I'm hooked. And now Brian is too. The acting is profound - in
fact, my new favorite acting pair include Damian Lewis (Soames)
and Gina McKee (Irene). I don't want to give away *any* of the storyline, because I want you to watch this! It's sinfully good and scandalous. (and the costumes are fun to look at too). I've been addicted to Elton John's the Tumbleweed Connection and *any* Moody Blues lately too. If you've got 'em, pull 'em out and have a re-listen. If not, I highly recommend - Good stuff. Oh! My leetlecheekins are really flaring up now - gotta run! Peace, till next |
