tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56193441761883421942024-02-18T19:23:54.443-08:00Kucina di KeckyAmong Other Things, Answering The Age-Old Question "What's For Dinner?"Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.comBlogger627125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-5492147312796292672016-05-03T09:50:00.000-07:002016-05-03T09:50:15.653-07:00Pedal...or Die!Pedal Poppy and I joined the Bike Everywhere Challenge. We'll be riding with our fellow coworkers for the month of May logging as many miles as we can. Team name: BrokenHipsters. Motto: Pedal, or Die.<br />
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Last night we had a BrokenHipster Mixter with the team:<br />
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Left to right:<br />
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Oaktown-Kristin;<br />
I-Wick-Moisture-Away-John;<br />
Pedal-Or-Die-Poppy;<br />
Reuse-Renew-Recycle-Abby;<br />
278-T-Rob; and<br />
If-It-Ain't-Broke-Break-It-Kelly<br />
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Today was my first ride so I thought I'd share it with you. It started all nice and happy...<br />
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Shortly into my ride and my first wee hill, Mama no happy!<br />
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So now I'm all self-talking in my head but there's nothing good to talk about. Here's some of the things I discussed among myself:<br />
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Why am I doing this?<br />
This is really F'd up.<br />
Am I a sin Fwench woman, yet?<br />
This is bites!<br />
My pee pee hurts.<br />
Why is my water bottle leaking all over me?<br />
Does my ass look big on this seat?<br />
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No pain, no gain, right? Speaking of pain, are those chest pains I'm having? Hmmm. Where's that SAG wagon with the red flashing lights and siren when I need it? I tried to drink more water from my dribble-sippy-water-bottle thing while I waited for the pain to pass. The only thing hydrated is the front of my jacket!<br />
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One thing about being a BrokenHipster is that you never...ever pass up an opportunity to pee. When you gotta go, you gotta go...<br />
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So, the chest pains subsided and I was on my merry way. I stopped here thinking maybe the Cods could save me, but all I saw was Charlie the Tuna. Oh wait, that's Chicken of the Sea, not Star of the Sea...Sorry Charlie! I knew Cod was a fish!<br />
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After the Cods rejected me, I soldiered on. Then this happened!<br />
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Bread!! I'm supposed to carbo-load when I exercise, right?<br />
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Thank the Cods and the Carbs that I'd about reached my destination. By this time, my pee pee was on fire. I think I have a blister. Guess that's why they make those tight little padded bike shorts. This sin Fwench woman is gonna get her some!<br />
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Made it!<br />
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Remember, it's not about the destination, it's about <strike>the journey </strike>not breaking anything on the way!<br />
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Later! <br />
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<br />Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-32008925346846114382015-06-17T11:44:00.000-07:002015-06-17T11:44:11.508-07:00Hi Friends!Let's talk about the bathroom at work...<br />
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See the deadbolt? It works much like the bathroom door on an airplane. You shut the door, flip the lock and the red "Occupied" sign shows on the outside of the door. That's all well and good, unless you forget to flip the lock.<br />
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I've forgotten to flip the lock about 5 times since we moved into this building. The first time, one of my coworkers opened the door, I screamed and she said with a very sickened look on her face "Oh my God!" Awkward. The second time it happened, another coworker walked in on me. She was so nonplussed by it, I thought she was going to come in and wait until I was done. Of course, I screamed like a little girl. I've had a few more occurrences where I just didn't realize that I forgot to flip the lock and it went unnoticed. Today, as I was sitting there, I saw that I forgot to flip the lock and in a moment of panic, I jumped up, mid-stream, to lock the door. I don't recommend this because it's as equally embarrassing. Jeans take a forever to dry!<br />
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I sent this to my BFF. I see this stuff on Facebook. I don't want you thinking I'm searching the Internets for this kind of crap to make me feel better when I'm all sad-sacky. I mean, really, how can he catch me wearing all those blankets? How can he hold me; he's dead. When I cry, I usually use my sleeve to wipe my tears or if I'm really sad, I let Jax lick them. I know, that seems odd, but it makes me feel better and she gets some electrolytes. Oh, and I know for damn sure he didn't put me back together cause Dr. K did!<br />
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Anyway, I get a response from BFF that says:<br />
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When I puke...<br />
HE HOLDS MY HAIR UP.<br />
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Later!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-40815977447404015302015-06-15T12:44:00.000-07:002015-06-15T12:44:12.738-07:00I got a wild hair up my ass...And speaking of that wild hair...what's up with some of you menfolk (okay and some of you women folk) with the big bushy eyebrows, nose hair and ear hair? I get as part of getting old and stuff that it all grows bigger and faster, but geez! For example, Nightly-News-Poppy and I were watching the news last night and they were interviewing Jeb.<br />
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Now, I don't know if it's cause we have the big screen and that HD junk, but damn, he's got some bushy (get it, bushy??) eyebrows and nose hair so long you could braid it. I know they make eyebrow thinners and nose hair clippers. I don't know why this bothers me so much, but it does.<br />
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Moving on...I-Like-Old-Shit-Poppy and I hit a couple of antique stores this weekend. Meet Audrey-The-Goat. I love her!<br />
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Then I saw this:</div>
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A brood of Buddhas? A gaggle of garden Buddhas? A band of Buddhas? Anyway, I felt all spiritual when I walked buy them, but then it passed...just like gas.</div>
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I will leave you with this...</div>
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Chow.</div>
Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-84593658068058366902015-06-09T13:59:00.000-07:002015-06-09T13:59:10.008-07:00Yeah, I suck...I've not been writing as much as I've wanted too, but geez, I've been a little busy with this stupid collarbone thing...Cut me some slack, wouldja?<br />
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Speaking of, today is my one month anniversary since surgery. My healing is coming right along. That said, there is a wee bit of pain associated with this surgery. The doc put me on Oxycodone after the surgery, and here's where my story begins...I ran out of my happy-feel-good-pills this past Saturday. Given I have a slight issue with addiction, I thought I'd try to get off those everything-is-roses-and-sunshine pills. I was doing okay until Monday when I left for work. By the time I got to work, I was in a world of hurt that the 4 Aleve I'd taken wasn't helping one little bit. So, I caved and sent my friend, David-The-Physician-Assistant an email to get more of my new BFF, Oxy. I know, I should have called, but I hate the phone. A few hours later I still hadn't heard anything from David-The-PA, so I emailed my regular doc. She emailed me right back and said to give David-The-PA a call. Oh fine...<br />
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The thing I love about Kaiser, is that you can do just about anything with them online...except getting narcotics. To get those, you get the old-fashioned paper prescription and then take it to the pharmacy and wait...and wait...and wait. Kind of like when you were a kid waiting for Christmas morning, only different.<br />
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Okay, so first I have to solve the problem of getting myself to Kaiser cause I can't freakin drive! Luckily, Chauffeur-and-Schleper-Poppy drove Miss FrankenDaisy to work so she was able to give me a ride Kaiser. From there I'd have to find my way home by public transport...and that's a whole different story for some other time.<br />
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Anyway, she drops me off and as I'm walking in the big automatic doors of Kaiser, this Little-Turdlette-Overactive-Sticky-Snotty-Tasmanian-Devil-Thing decides he's going to run inside the doorway with me and try to jump up and touch the door jam, only he misses and body slams me right in my newly renovated collarbone. Well, it was more like my elbow, but it's all attached to the same thing. It hurt so bad I'm pretty sure I pee'd in my pants a little.<br />
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You know that look on a great white shark right before it goes in the for the kill...the one where the white cover goes over it's eyeballs and it rips the crap out of its prey? Yeah, that was me, only with a mouth like a longshoreman. I can't even remember what came out of my mouth. I know there were a bunch of "F__K!s" and one "YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE". I guess it was loud enough for folks to stop dead in their tracks and look my way.<br />
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This little creep also had an older brother with him and what I assume to be his Hipster-Complacent-Baby-Talking-Parent-Magazine-Reading-Reverse-Psychology-Using-Fully-Manipulated-By-His-Little-Shit-Kids-Dad. Now I'm staring at the freakin Dad looking at him like WTF?? The guy looks at his evil offspring, points at his own arm and says "Be careful, she's in a..." and the little freak was long gone trying to mow down some poor unsuspecting blue-hair in a walker.<br />
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Here's the thing, after all the cautioning from David-The-PA on how I can't drive, I can't ride a bike, I can't pick my nose or even lift a coffee cup; how ironic would that have been if my collarbone got messed up by some rug-rat right at Kaiser? Whatever.<br />
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I get my scrip and I take it to the cattle call pharmacy. I stand in the "drop-off" line for 15 minutes...Have I mentioned how much pain I'm in since Malicious-Marvin bashed into me? Bastard. Okay, so I go sit down and wait for my name to show up on the board.<br />
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Then out of the corner of my eyeball, I see this four-foot tall-whirling-blob-of-bad-seed come whizzing into the pharmacy raising all kinds of hell.<br />
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Here they are fingering all the vitamins:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5g-ovKRdxJNPZ4l-gR_zA1BirM7X76puKpSY_N33_WTkog7Iok6uYzRfgTbrsACp4Th0e_fxUtjO2NMv3v0BFfgofL-uzlGiOvOrXMbNje5basetLfNP6wbyNg0tqnbzNRwAlCN3zzrX/s1600/anklebiter+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5g-ovKRdxJNPZ4l-gR_zA1BirM7X76puKpSY_N33_WTkog7Iok6uYzRfgTbrsACp4Th0e_fxUtjO2NMv3v0BFfgofL-uzlGiOvOrXMbNje5basetLfNP6wbyNg0tqnbzNRwAlCN3zzrX/s320/anklebiter+1.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The offender is in the yellow t-shirt. The other is his not-quite-as-off-the-charts-hyper-brother.<br />
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Here they are fingering all the gloves, masks and hand sanitizer:<br />
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Next thing I know, they've both started running up and down all the isles of chairs. It's like I'm watching this in slow motion...they're coming my way...if I can extend my foot in time...damn, I only clipped the little shit's shoe. He barely even stumbled. Sigh.<br />
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I started to think...what if I really had some good foot placement and he tripped? At his rate of speed and hardness of the floor or chair leg, he probably would have ended up on the floor convulsing with foam streaming out his mouth. Would I really care? Um, well...not even a little! Yep, I said that.<br />
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Did someone say Sausage!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-46673643718123524392015-05-12T10:32:00.000-07:002015-05-12T10:32:15.985-07:00Well, that was a fun weekend!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Went to see the BFF in Orangevale. We have such a good time. She had tickets to the River Cats' game. Not just any tickets, but Legacy Club tickets so that meant we got to eat really good food and have excellent parking. As luck would have it, since this is a Triple A Giants' affiliate team and Hunter Pence is rehabbing, he played. I had no idea how tall he is!!<br />
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Talk about being up close and personal. I'm like a magnet for flying object to the head and we were directly in the line of fire! I screamed like a little girl...a lot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIy2IaNwxu3w-NYfYQlNSf6xQ6TUK6FH5xX3sozl7t5y2NRKp_J5ciRybK5jwIfk4hEhUu81b1p9FjC9HEIBIs2U_TJTu6ijwb1EyUW9Hl6agwcaY_ffXFzSzAgoAw7mluHSmYA4m8cxc/s1600/Besties.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIy2IaNwxu3w-NYfYQlNSf6xQ6TUK6FH5xX3sozl7t5y2NRKp_J5ciRybK5jwIfk4hEhUu81b1p9FjC9HEIBIs2U_TJTu6ijwb1EyUW9Hl6agwcaY_ffXFzSzAgoAw7mluHSmYA4m8cxc/s1600/Besties.jpg" /></a></div>
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Me and the bestie of 35 years!<br />
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I made open faced Fwench dip sandwiches.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTUpk91JfcTqDnENFny_z4hlVztu-3T6si5QcIYURnPYJna3Vv0UvgofUujL3cCfukc6Gcwb5g1feXjc-9vD-EYw_I_HzSEjpF9Wd93eSKqoMqGngTYi9dDwdAERwQI-xxVltiv-lt6oF/s1600/IMG_3107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTUpk91JfcTqDnENFny_z4hlVztu-3T6si5QcIYURnPYJna3Vv0UvgofUujL3cCfukc6Gcwb5g1feXjc-9vD-EYw_I_HzSEjpF9Wd93eSKqoMqGngTYi9dDwdAERwQI-xxVltiv-lt6oF/s320/IMG_3107.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Well, we really didn't dip and they weren't really fwench, but they were really good! Why is it called a Fwench dip sandwich anyway? Well, I consulted with my Internets. It's Fwench because it's made with a baguette and the dip is Fwench cause it's au jus, which is Fwench for "with juice". But here's the thing, the first sentence starts of with: "Fwench dip, an American cuisine". I'm so confused.<br />
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Okay, let's get to the meat (or as we say in Fwance la viande) of this post. If the baseball game wasn't highlight enough for the weekend, BFF and I got tattoos!<br />
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Here's the bestie's tat:<br />
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Cutest little guy ever...if you like the monkey, which I don't.<br />
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Okay, ready? Don't be frightened...there are reasons for why I do what I do...<br />
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Meet NegiMonster!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVR-PSozvx1-jJ56YJ-Anch8vD5StlJeo-V4_CPC4CG_mvTX8J718uS5PxExxj01v157VmYgvqAVQ0FD0mVSM5j547qzzwgKEajtacTDLivDUG7-Ps_yXFBUqBODug8-g8qix6n_xY7jzu/s1600/NegiMonster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVR-PSozvx1-jJ56YJ-Anch8vD5StlJeo-V4_CPC4CG_mvTX8J718uS5PxExxj01v157VmYgvqAVQ0FD0mVSM5j547qzzwgKEajtacTDLivDUG7-Ps_yXFBUqBODug8-g8qix6n_xY7jzu/s1600/NegiMonster.jpg" /></a></div>
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Here is my original drawing that Andrew-The-Tat-Artist used:<br />
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I know you want to know the significance of the Negi. One day I was in a really foul mood and decided to draw what I thought that looked like. I named it NegiMonster. Negi comes to visit me probably 20% of the time. The significance of the green onion hair is that "negi" in Japanese means green onions (I'm pretty sure) and since Sushi-Poppy and I loves us some negihama rolls she thought it would be a great idea to make Negi's hair green onions instead. The circle/slash represents that I don't want to be Negi. So there, every time I look at Negi, I feel positive. See, it's my own reverse psychology.<br />
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I guess that's all I got. Well...<br />
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Later gator!<br />
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<br />Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-28926941223219433562015-05-05T12:38:00.001-07:002015-05-05T12:38:35.352-07:00Life's little observations...Yesterday, I was riding to work and I see this gal carrying her yoga mat and rushing to her car. She tosses it in the backseat and quickly gets in the car. Obviously, she's late for her yoga class. So, I wonder, since yoga is supposed to be a relaxing thing and stuff, why is this lady all frantic to get to the class so she can hurry up and relax?<br />
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The only time I ever...and I mean ever see a surfer running is so they can get in the water.<br />
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Why do folks on road bikes talk on the phone while riding?<br />
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While I was away from blogging, I took up what is now called "adult coloring". I had no idea that it was such a big deal. I read on my Internets that Amazon's top selling books are coloring books for adults. Folks are even having coloring parties. I'm a trendsetter and I didn't even know it.<br />
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Here's my latest:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoAoApQym_mcHnjqohPf2kGa2Fgw02o3JJlVhjTpTA3xG5MulBdAPK7mBR_4ch5b2mRsblYpNEPTk2h6jTHiecniOqaJhJgUyGvV5ryTuOg4FEHfT4eOl015MIkupw1hMpgahO746xEL8/s1600/IMG_3073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoAoApQym_mcHnjqohPf2kGa2Fgw02o3JJlVhjTpTA3xG5MulBdAPK7mBR_4ch5b2mRsblYpNEPTk2h6jTHiecniOqaJhJgUyGvV5ryTuOg4FEHfT4eOl015MIkupw1hMpgahO746xEL8/s320/IMG_3073.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Not sure I'm liking the yellow. My Worst-Critic-Graphic-Designer-Poppy said I should use a color that won't take away from the actual picture. I don't think yellow was the right choice. Whatever!<br />
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I figure I'd color while I was recuperating from the surgery, but I'm right-handed and I won't be able to color with my right hand. Figure I'll start coloring with my left. A little known fact, I was born ambidextrous and my parents had to pick a dominant hand so they picked the right. I might have made that all up, but I do have some memory of this. Hey, I'll teach myself to use my knives with my left hand too...when "Won't-Let-Me-Play-With-Knives-Poppy isn't around.<br />
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I was reading this article about the virtues of cooking in clay pots. <a href="http://craftsmanship.net/the-clay-mystique/" style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">http://craftsmanship.net/the-clay-mystique/</a> This article was given to me by my former bread making Sensei-John. He's helping Guru-Chad to design a clay pot for the home bread maker. The point of this is this quote "<i>Metal is an unusually
intense conductor, which means that it absorbs heat’s energy fast, like a
rambunctious teenager, and then releases it fast. Clay is the exact opposite.
It’s an insulator, and insulators are like patient grandmothers. They gather the
energy slowly – and release it just as slowly." </i>Where the heck did the author come up with that line? Me thinks Author-Todd is sexually frustrated!<br />
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Here are the girls...they're like a foot and a half from each other. We are making amazing progress.<br />
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Recall I hate the monkey, right? Is this bad?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEict97kwtb-UWVpZHDl_vp51H3rSqEm_yPfW9JN8hjPJmZhzPvPK2budMLLBRm7Tsh5Z2maHSzwlRUSYyhRNfAtonIrCWhAs-bfsqQGTnN0fz8eXhn5Jtgy8_NZB4e1PQ75HdEAy6VgaFD8/s1600/going+to+hell.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEict97kwtb-UWVpZHDl_vp51H3rSqEm_yPfW9JN8hjPJmZhzPvPK2budMLLBRm7Tsh5Z2maHSzwlRUSYyhRNfAtonIrCWhAs-bfsqQGTnN0fz8eXhn5Jtgy8_NZB4e1PQ75HdEAy6VgaFD8/s320/going+to+hell.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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At least I'm creative...and I guess if there's a hell, I'm going there. Thing is, I keep this stuff in the top drawer of my desk. If I were to take the big sleep and one of my coworkers had to clean out my desk, I'm pretty sure they'd think I was a big fat weirdo. They'd think Poppy was even more of a big fat weirdo for being with me. I guess she could lie and say she had no idea I kept shit like this in my desk, right next to my DivaCup...but I know she'd be lying.<br />
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Chow, man!<br />
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Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-60958598763657368552015-05-03T16:22:00.000-07:002015-05-03T16:22:58.541-07:00Oh fine, I'll start writing again so get off my back!!Let's see, what's new with me?<br />
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Well, most of you know about the "SCOOTER ACCIDENT OF 2014". It had been well publicized on social media. I mean, it didn't go viral or anything, but that was because I had issues with my branding. Whatever, I don't even know what "viral" is, other than they won't give you drugs for it.<br />
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Anyway, here's where we are...After about 8 months or so of having this crappy, gnawing pain in my shoulder and noticing that this wasn't healing like it did twenty years ago, I decided to go see the doc. Okay, he's not really a doc, he's a physician's assistant. Not that I have anything against a PA. After all, I've worked with some kick-ass paralegals for like a quarter century and I've seen some really good work that they rarely got credit for. Don't be thinking for a second that I'm all passive-aggressive on the BK, cause I'm not including her in that statement. The BK has even given bonuses for outstanding work.<br />
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All that said, in this instance and David-The-PA did say I was on the cusp of surgery, but really thought the collarbone would heal, but no such luck. So, my healing halted shortly after the SCOOTER ACCIDENT OF 2014 and here's what I'm left with:<br />
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Surgery is scheduled for May 19. I'll be down and in a sling for two weeks or so. For the surgery, Dr. K (I'm pretty sure he's a real surgeon) will be taking a little somethin somethin from another part of my body to fill in the gap. He'll straighten it all out and throw a titanium plate on it with three screws on each side. You know, I'm allergic to any metal that isn't gold. I breakout in a huge rash. I wonder if I'll breakout in a rash inside my body? Guess we'll find out. The fun part is that I won't be able to do anything for the next nine months. No skateboarding, no trampolining, no NASCAR racing, no fun!<br />
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A word about the surgeon. When they set up a consultation with Dr. K, I went on Kaiser's website to read about the guy. He seemed okay. When Patient-Advocate-Poppy and I showed up for the appointment, everything was fine and then the clock started ticking...fifteen minutes late, no big deal. Now it's a half-hour after my appointment and we're still sitting in the waiting room and I'm thinking they forgot me. I go up to the nice lady at the counter just to make sure. Nope, Dr. K is running "just a little" late. After an hour, we're still f-ing sitting there. After a few more minutes, we finally get called in. The nurse is very apologetic and I totally get it's not her fault. But I'm fuming. She says "I apologize for Dr. K being late." I say "Well, my time is just as important as his, how about I show up an hour late to my next appointment, I'm sure that will be fine, right?" She laughed and said "Well, maybe 10 minutes late." Then basically tells me this Dr. K suffers from serial tardiness and this hour wait was the norm. WTF?? Someone isn't making points with me and yet, I don't want to say anything cause I don't want him spitting inside my collarbone or leaving a sponge or something.<br />
<br />
Serial-Tardy-Dr. K comes in and starts yacking at us. I'm noticing that he's one of those closed-eye talkers. Like his eyes were closed more than they were open the whole time we were there. Now, I'm really not feeling good about this. Then he grabs his cell phone out of his pocket and says "I need to take this." and walks out of the room. Again, WTF? Pissed-Patient-Advocate-Poppy and I just look at each other as if this can't really be happening. I mention to Poppy that I sure as hell hope this guy keeps his eyes open during surgery. Anyway, the dude comes back after like 10 minutes. Blah, blah, blah. I spend the next week trying to find out when I get the stupid surgery.<br />
<br />
Now the point of the whole story here is that for those of you that know me, know I'm not a very good patient and find it hard to sit still. So, to make my recuperation more comfortable and to try to keep me immobile, here's what I bought:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFcxafQCOCQ5UiZUWgKetbGxY3WO-uKYkkK2UFr1ux3TBXQ5g2Qu3akAx_re12KxuOB8ndcYU1g32uTghG2mSlOFVe32jdAuv7GtHY8tHX1E21RapqcGc9EFuGG6yb1yAtS_h6orDrhrq/s1600/FL.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFcxafQCOCQ5UiZUWgKetbGxY3WO-uKYkkK2UFr1ux3TBXQ5g2Qu3akAx_re12KxuOB8ndcYU1g32uTghG2mSlOFVe32jdAuv7GtHY8tHX1E21RapqcGc9EFuGG6yb1yAtS_h6orDrhrq/s1600/FL.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Yep, that's a genuine Hanky Pinky Forever Lazy!! Note the matching headband that I happen to have from House of Air when I went trampolining before I didn't know my arm wasn't attached to my body. The best part is, not only can I zip up my arm inside, but there is a zipper in the back for ease of the tinkling. Speaking of, we're in a drought...If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down, damn it!<br />
<br />
What else? Oh, we got a new addition to our little family. Her name is Jill. Here she is being the fearless huntress that she is. She's hot on the trail of a fly!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVIvkjxydwmCdBIj2S4Az75ZLrbm_gCd7K6mHLbM-V2ugxqczwAoUwtv1AOp5Jhmv94JRq4rv1H3_UGeYiIquh_GUvLvlwcgkAPU4__Ya3o6WdR1nakfQR3H7TARg_kdM2Y3pIVtvvGNc/s1600/Jill+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVIvkjxydwmCdBIj2S4Az75ZLrbm_gCd7K6mHLbM-V2ugxqczwAoUwtv1AOp5Jhmv94JRq4rv1H3_UGeYiIquh_GUvLvlwcgkAPU4__Ya3o6WdR1nakfQR3H7TARg_kdM2Y3pIVtvvGNc/s1600/Jill+1.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
This one looks like she's looking to the heavens to see if the Gods will give her the goddamn fly!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZPh1RcvrdVSStnZnisIRpZ5FoUxvRSeJFOuNeUNUCXgCiKr0aMnh3GCgiKI-NFYWkQnuDutSM8gXOKeV177vtY7azuXKvQVCx0ANjymHT809LVcQpFrsDNLLovRDdpuU6z0DQ3-uhIcA/s1600/Jill+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZPh1RcvrdVSStnZnisIRpZ5FoUxvRSeJFOuNeUNUCXgCiKr0aMnh3GCgiKI-NFYWkQnuDutSM8gXOKeV177vtY7azuXKvQVCx0ANjymHT809LVcQpFrsDNLLovRDdpuU6z0DQ3-uhIcA/s1600/Jill+2.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
She's blending in well but it's taking time for her to warm up to Baby-J. Baby-J does her best not to make eye contact.<br />
<br />
Let's see...I started fermenting things. I've made sauerkraut and pickles and I'm happy to report that nobody has died. Now I'm making Kombucha. I love the stuff, but this shit is weird and needs babysitting. I sure hope it tastes better than it looks cause it looks like...well, I don't want to say other than it involves a productive cough.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6iBSoQ4zJ7OuqhcuLcrCH6tRVBDg4_RfkwZHH4tQiqz6dp7u6jR5MpTrroXTXQfUs3MWfZ2n1bT93kX31O7yvYD9KExMfUuIEWgkhquD0qU2JBb9yeZJcsKC7XbZOE_IT8buTi-xScKa/s1600/Scooby.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6iBSoQ4zJ7OuqhcuLcrCH6tRVBDg4_RfkwZHH4tQiqz6dp7u6jR5MpTrroXTXQfUs3MWfZ2n1bT93kX31O7yvYD9KExMfUuIEWgkhquD0qU2JBb9yeZJcsKC7XbZOE_IT8buTi-xScKa/s1600/Scooby.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
So, that's the SCOBY. SCOBY is an acronym for Symbiotic Colony Of Bacteria. Oh NOM! I've nicknamed it Scooby. Makes me feel better to think about a cartoon character while consuming my bacteria.<br />
<br />
That's all for now!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-69856090226831090992014-06-25T09:46:00.000-07:002014-06-25T09:46:02.351-07:00<br />
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<em style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 115%;"><em>I'm so glad we had this time together,</em></span></i></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: center;">
<i style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 115%;"><em>Just to have a laugh, or sing a song.</em></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Seems we just got started and before you know it</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Comes a time we have to say, 'So long.'</span></div>
</span></i></span>Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-11006759619850561592014-06-04T15:11:00.000-07:002014-06-04T15:11:30.535-07:00Why...Would you put a minkey in a snow globe?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWeIaw70nlFPIp1wGXgdq1nRTzXHaDr7g8jNjjcDMaLYrpksZdC9RtlcblrPr7dYanrA-DtnJLH9Pktj5jmmkcmg8TvOvBtOdKG_dzO2zvMti7-SpQsS5Nnq1rn6NSGthR5sOrkGo-C8l/s1600/Seriously+weird.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWeIaw70nlFPIp1wGXgdq1nRTzXHaDr7g8jNjjcDMaLYrpksZdC9RtlcblrPr7dYanrA-DtnJLH9Pktj5jmmkcmg8TvOvBtOdKG_dzO2zvMti7-SpQsS5Nnq1rn6NSGthR5sOrkGo-C8l/s1600/Seriously+weird.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">To scare small children and people like me, that's why!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Got me thinking about the snow globe. Personally, I've never been a fan. I think I broke one when I was a kid and got in trouble for the big mess. Anyway, let's see what our Internets say about them...</span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At the end of the 19th century Erwin Perzy, a producer of
surgical instruments, invented the so-called Schneekugel</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(snow
globe) and got the first patent for it. Originally his goal was to develop an
extra bright lightsource for use as a surgical lamp. </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As he tried to intensify the candlepower of a so-called</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Schusterkugel</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(a
water filled flask used to focus light since the Middle Ages) with particles
made out of different materials for reflection purpose, the effect reminded him
of snowfall and it's said that by this he got the idea for a snow globe. He
then built his first actual globe with the basilica of </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mariazell </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">as a model in it. Because of
the great request for his snow globes, Perzy, along with his brother Ludwig
opened a shop in</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Vienna</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, where the production
continues until today as a family business. Today the globes get exported
throughout the world; the material out of which the "snow" is made is
handed down from generation to generation as a production secret (it should
float as long as possible in the water before sinking down).<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>In the United States, the
first snow globe-related patent was granted in 1927 to Joseph Garaja of
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In 1929, Garaja convinced Novelty Pool Ornaments to
manufacture a fish version underwater.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In America, during the 1940s, snow globes were often used
for advertising. In Europe, during the 1940s and 1950s, religious snow globes
were common gifts for</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Catholic<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #252525;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">children. Snow globes have
appeared in a number of film scenes, the most famous of which is the opening of
the 1941 classic </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Citizen Kane</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, isn't that interesting? Strange that the Catholics put God in a snow globe. Guess anything to sell it to the little children...get 'em hooked early. Wonder what the Holy Spirit looked like in a snow globe? Creepier than the minkey, I'm thinking!</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Hey, check out Mom-Jean:</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJswLBw8FpqvUcN78xyrMiKTtWyMsoEMQbctMemIev_JB_cQil-ecDzu4A6QOXGGqtzYaHsovkdSllAIZEdxCOiP9Kcklubu2raiATssgAzrYASf52lo47MlGXieKW1vgYT1CZeE05mUL/s1600/mj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJswLBw8FpqvUcN78xyrMiKTtWyMsoEMQbctMemIev_JB_cQil-ecDzu4A6QOXGGqtzYaHsovkdSllAIZEdxCOiP9Kcklubu2raiATssgAzrYASf52lo47MlGXieKW1vgYT1CZeE05mUL/s1600/mj.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
I think Fiberglass-Blue is her color! Someone went boom-boom...<br />
<br />
This is Jake, one of Mom-J's caretakers...well, he's more of an overseer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rg6M5WZuYTv8JMzp86XJSFIimPrtndDxMeEvlVKx4BWIiEhmKGLbo1QRlkb-px3r7HTSTk1stn5EMXb-jAxv0LCWNrZLnzF2lMo5TczLf2EzLj2UD9zJtUPohP0soJ2Fec9HZlUO-bUt/s1600/jake.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rg6M5WZuYTv8JMzp86XJSFIimPrtndDxMeEvlVKx4BWIiEhmKGLbo1QRlkb-px3r7HTSTk1stn5EMXb-jAxv0LCWNrZLnzF2lMo5TczLf2EzLj2UD9zJtUPohP0soJ2Fec9HZlUO-bUt/s1600/jake.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Fun times!<br />
<br />
Later.Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-91387865690230468702014-05-30T13:35:00.000-07:002014-05-30T13:35:16.401-07:00I wanna write a book!I've wanted to write a book for years. I think that's partly why I started this blog. It's kind of like writing a book, only different. Whenever I think about what I want to write about, it's like I have a visual of this black void in my brain. This has not been conducive to my starting a book. So, I figure there are a few questions I must ask myself about writing my book.<br />
<br />
Q. Why do I want to write a book?<br />
A. I dunno. It's not about making money or being published. I don't even think I've got a burning desire to be heard.<br />
<br />
Q. What do I want to write about?<br />
A. I dunno. Recall the black void I see in my head.<br />
<br />
I was talking to Problem-Solving-Poppy about this and she suggested I talk to MomJean. MomJean is published and was an editor by trade. So, while I'm here watching MomJean's broken leg heal, what a perfect time to pick her brain.<br />
<br />
So, I tell her I want to write a book and that Offspring-Poppy suggested I talk to her about it. MomJean asks "Oh, well, what do you want to write about?"<br />
<br />
GOD-DUH!<br />
<br />
Think I'll stick to blogging until the black void starts to fill up.<br />
<br />
Um, Broke-Back-Becky has been having a crappy run of luck lately...well for a few years now. I'm convinced there is some bad energy coming from something or somewhere and is causing all this turmoil. I think that bad ju-ju-energy is coming from Poppy's Stella-Hella-Piece-O-Junk. While BB-Becky was out of town last week...watching MomJean's broken leg heal, I decided I would rid SHPOJ of her bad ju-ju-energy. See?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBBpyR9JKliu7UJMIu-PYlBr_qwSqy0HRMdQfagl5jGKS0ZhiYaj8vjXsVJaIwobZ98n_Xk9jCosIPvFCG0uNlHwBuVjYITh7HRGYio14_vpCPlDUnUuw5TxuHm7DUdLm05yura-_kwM5/s1600/imagel.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBBpyR9JKliu7UJMIu-PYlBr_qwSqy0HRMdQfagl5jGKS0ZhiYaj8vjXsVJaIwobZ98n_Xk9jCosIPvFCG0uNlHwBuVjYITh7HRGYio14_vpCPlDUnUuw5TxuHm7DUdLm05yura-_kwM5/s1600/imagel.jpeg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Yeah, Stella got a smudging with sage. I lit it all up and walked around Stella like 3 times saying "THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!" Yeah, and then Stella's handlebars spun around and projectile vomited split pea soup all over me. Not really, but I did start thinking that since Stella-Hella-Piece-O-Junk regularly smells like leaking gas that I might possibly explode, so I took my smudge-bucket to the backyard.<br />
<br />
It remains to be seen if this worked. BB-Becky is still walking around so I say we're off to a good start.<br />
<br />
Later!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-78236415659235487392014-05-21T12:05:00.000-07:002014-05-21T12:05:15.278-07:00Someone is feeling very depressed...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Poor girl misses her Udder-Mudder. Really, she never lays on that ottoman. She only uses it to look out the window. She's starting to get sad little bags under her eyes too.<br />
<br />
The other day I saw this recipe for an Asian-Quinoa salad. Looked really good too...only Quinoa and soy beans ain't on the diet...but cashews are! Besides, the recipe was really about the dressing and not the salad...I can't wait for leftovers tonight!<br />
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Jealous-Poppy has read my blog and I sent her this picture last night and she replied "Why are you making all this good stuff when I'm not there??" Poor-Poppy...but c'mon, it's not like she's suffering with Aunt K's cooking! I pale in comparison to both Aunt K and Aunt L's cooking skills. They both have that talent of taking a bunch of stuff out of the fridge and producing a restaurant-worthy meal.<br />
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I haven't decided what I'll be cooking next. I've been craving shrimp though. Maybe some Old Bay and peel-n-eat shrimp!<br />
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The possibilities are endless.<br />
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Later.<br />
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<br />Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-70406639306498322942014-05-06T11:08:00.001-07:002014-05-06T12:23:15.958-07:00You know you're getting old when...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You apply for Long Term Care Insurance. Actually, you know you're old when you have to start thinking about this stuff. </div>
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That's right folks, I'm one step closer to wearing my seafoam green velour jogging suit, riding my Hoveround while shouting obscenities and trying to mow down small children. YES!<br />
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I guess the good news is, I'm healthy enough to have made it through the underwriting process without any exclusions. What does all this mean? It means that I-Don't-Like-Pooh-Pooh-Poppy won't have to change my dirty XXL big-girl diapers.<br />
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All this peace of mind for the low, low price of $100 per month. What are the odds I make it through old age with no problems whatsoever, drop dead and never use the benefit? I'll be pissed! Can you imagine...say I stay healthy until like I'm 90. I'm 52 now. So, 90 - 52 = (wait, let me get my calculator...) 38 years, I think. Multiply that by $1,200 per year and that's a lot like (wait, let me get my calculator...) 45,000ish dollars. Hmmm, I thought it would be more. Now it doesn't seem so bad. Although, with that kind of cash, I could buy a butt-load of shoes AND a different shade of Jordan Almond jogging suit for every day of the week!!!<br />
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Okay, I only see 6 colors of the Jordan Almond...guess I'll be doubling up on one...hope my XXL big-girl diapers don't leak cause then I'll smell like old lady peepee. Don't-Make-Me-Smell-Old-Lady-PeePee-Poppy would not take kindly to that!</div>
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Like sands in the hourglass, so are the days of our lives! </div>
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Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-84219561122310939692014-05-05T11:37:00.001-07:002014-05-05T11:38:08.775-07:00Went to see the BFF...Over the weekend. We ate a lot.<br />
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Let's see...oh, we were going to go kayaking on the Merican River, but the Hornets were having a crew event so we went hiking instead.<br />
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Then we ate. We had Pho. I had the rare steak and tendon pho. NOM! I've been so curious about the tendon part so I finally had a chance to try it. I will definitely have that again!<br />
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Then we walked around the outdoor mall.<br />
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Check out all the junk in my signature color!<br />
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There was Mall Art.<br />
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I embraced my inner thug.<br />
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Then we ate more:<br />
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That's a venison double-decker taco supreme! We also made wild boar tacos.<br />
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Then it was time to go home. Look what happened on the way home...<br />
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Yep, our 7-year old truck turned over 40,000!<br />
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Then there was more eating...<br />
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Poppy fetched us a happy cow flank steak from the deep freeze. I marinated it in balsamic, olive oil, garlic, Italian seasoning, whole grain mustard, salt and pepper. FFM-Laurie gave me a basil plant for my birthday, so I made a caprese salad to go with. NOM!!!<br />
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Chow, man!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-89778500614412072932014-04-29T10:27:00.000-07:002014-04-29T10:27:28.436-07:00Well...Turning 52 sure was fun!<br />
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There was paragliding...<br />
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Yeah, right...no, that's not me. Couldn't pay me to do that. But it was fun to watch.<br />
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There was hiking...<br />
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There was my annual Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Family Style Deluxe extravaganza...<br />
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Gross. So, for some reason, my M&C just didn't do it for me this year, so now I'm on the hunt for a new tasty treat sensation for next year's celebration. Might be ceviche...<br />
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And of course, there was lots of relaxing...<br />
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Yay!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-784226090514307042014-04-23T14:05:00.000-07:002014-04-23T14:05:16.164-07:00I have gas!No, not that kind of gas...not right this moment anyway. The petroleum product kind of gas.<br />
<br />
My story begins shortly after we moved to the Outerlands. I was going to the 76 station closest to the house up until about 2 years ago I went in to get petrol and Mr. Attendant-Guy hadn't unlocked the pumps. I asked if he was open and he got all huffy. So...that gas station is dead to me.<br />
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Now I go to the 76 station by Old Great Highway and Lincoln. A couple of weeks ago, I made my weekly stop at said gas station. When I pulled the nozzle off the pump thing, gas started spewing all over the place. Mostly on my hands. I wrestled the hose into my gas tank hole trying not to pour the crap all over my scooter...but I did. Once I'd finished pouring gas all over the place and trying to clean it up, I go to see Mr. Attendant-Guy to tell him his nozzle is leaking. He looks at me with a blank stare. So I say "No, really, it's leaking all over the place and I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust!" He walks out to look at the nozzle and has me point to where it's leaking. He says "Hose" and walks away. So...this gas station is dead to me too.<br />
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I tell Poppy about my trials and she says "Where are you going to get your gas now that all the gas stations are dead to you?" I replied "I'm going to walk."<br />
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Okay, so today I reluctantly go to the spewing gas gas station to fill up. Just to be safe, I go to a different pump. I take out my card and start pressing all the buttons. I'm getting ready to "Remove Nozzle" but instead the machine says "SEE CASHIER". Huh? I guess I entered my zip code wrong or something. I go through the process again and get the same error. Oh kiss my butt!<br />
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I go in to SEE CASHIER. I say "The pump says SEE CASHIER". She goes "___________". Yeah, she just stared at me. WTF? I go "What do you think I ought to do?" She says "Not me, it's machine." Whatever! For shits-n-grins, I drive over to another pump (no, not the squirting one) and try again. Same SEE CASHIER stupid message.<br />
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I'm outta there. Thing is, I'm on E and the next gas station I can think of is another 76 up on Geary. Yeah, I made it and I got my goddamn gas!<br />
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Now I'm wondering why are there so many 76 gas stations here? Are they all owned by the same weirdo family that has a creepy staring problem? Just for fun, I went on my Internets.<br />
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Check out the Supermodel video: <a href="http://www.76.com/OurGas/" target="_blank">http://www.76.com/OurGas</a><br />
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At first I was offended, then I realized it was kind of a joke, but I don't think it's funny. Must be my mood.<br />
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Why is it whenever I write this blog, I always feel like I need to post pics?<br />
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Okay...<br />
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She's the cutest little thing ever!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-60130536168670969162014-04-18T13:46:00.003-07:002014-04-18T13:46:55.128-07:00You just can't make this stuff up...See this picture?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkopMcObGY9NYCdwq9rwgG89hyphenhyphenez-0k0MSj-Eji2smSEJ4SgsQsqHSgtvoEIUNC6UUKx_sFChWHGoKr7Cs-nC7pWSqzV8RVqW8m-dllkiyxHHu1qHU4vgoAkdK-SAP8cJoQ85MYN8HGZyF/s1600/safety.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkopMcObGY9NYCdwq9rwgG89hyphenhyphenez-0k0MSj-Eji2smSEJ4SgsQsqHSgtvoEIUNC6UUKx_sFChWHGoKr7Cs-nC7pWSqzV8RVqW8m-dllkiyxHHu1qHU4vgoAkdK-SAP8cJoQ85MYN8HGZyF/s1600/safety.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">See the blue-ish
green car with the door open. Yeah, that’s a government car. That
government car is being driven by our health and safety officer. Said health and safety officer just
tried to back out of that parking space and backed right into the giant office
supply truck. I am dying! We’re all wondering if he is going to write himself
up for it…</span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Safety first, man!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond, serif;">Oh...</span><br />
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Happy Easter!<br />
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Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-84239936301974337362014-04-17T11:04:00.000-07:002014-04-17T11:04:37.337-07:00Okay, so what's for dinner?I've been in a cooking slump these past few days.<br />
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We had our friends over for a BBQ on Saturday and PK-Cooker-Poppy tried out the old/new cooker. Didn't go as planned but that's a whole other story. As with most BBQ's, we had leftovers. I made Texas-Poppy's favorite Texas Potato Salad...she wanted extra so consequently, we never want to eat another helping of potato salad ever again, ever!<br />
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I had some hard boiled eggs leftover from that so I decided last night I'd make some quick and dirty deviled eggs. Hey, do you say "hard cooked or hard boiled"? Figure that's kind of like "pop" and "soda". Anyway, today, I very carefully brought them to work. Very carefully...<br />
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Uh oh...<br />
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Yeah, deviled egg carnage!<br />
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Time to talk about IT...again. I'm still searching for IT. Advencha-Poppy bought us a Groupon for kayaking. We've been kayaking before. It's fun, but I'm not sure it's my IT. It's sooo labor intensive. Gotta drive there. Gotta put on a wetsuit and given that I am not a sin fwench woman yet, trying to get in that wetsuit is like trying to stuff too much sausage meat in a too small casing. Oh, and the fact that a shark may mistake me for a well fed seal makes me a little nervous too. Good thing Preparedness-Poppy and I have applied for long term care insurance! Although, my application hasn't finished the underwriting process.<br />
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About that...after I applied on my Internets for the policy, they called me for a phone interview. That was basically to go over all the questions I'd answered on the application to test my truthiness. Anyway, before she starts asking me all this stuff, she tells me I can't use a pen or pencil during the interview. Huh? I ask why, but she doesn't really know. So after she finishes up, she tells me to grab a pen and write down a confirmation number. GOD-DUH!<br />
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Okay, back to IT. So, here's some thoughts on IT:<br />
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I don't want to have to drive anywhere to do IT, unless I want too;<br />
I don't want to have to wear a wetsuit, harness or anything that can be nicknamed a contraption to do IT;<br />
I'm so okay if I have to buy new shoes to do IT; and<br />
It would be great if IT involved the little dog.<br />
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All this points to IT as either running or walking (aka, shuffling). Walking is so doable. Shuffling? Well, I'm still seeing Anita-The-Acupuncturist and she's working miracles, but it may take more than a miracle to fix my knee. So, if all points of IT lead to walking or shuffling, where will I find time to do IT?<br />
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And here is my Oprah-ahh-ha! moment...<br />
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Wait for it...<br />
<br />
Wait for it...<br />
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IT all comes down to discipline and there you have it folks...IT is actually DISCIPLINE!<br />
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BOOM!<br />
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For those of you with DISCIPLINE, where to you find it and can you help me find it? Don't bother, I know the answer.<br />
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Moving on...I took the little dog to the beach after work last night. Look at that happy little dog, she just loves her some beach!<br />
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Later!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-51376808701147638782014-04-16T10:08:00.002-07:002014-04-16T10:08:56.281-07:00I'll try anything once...As long as it's not illegal and won't hurt.<br />
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Check this out...my co-worker brought in some coffee for folks to try. She picked it up in Bali. She said it's "bucket list" coffee. Huh? She went on to esplain that it's the coffee bean that some animal eats the bean pod and then poops out the bean. Then I guess a bunch of little old ladies collect and wash the beans and sell it for 5 times as much as your runs (get it...runs!) of the mill Folgers.<br />
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Over the teeth and through the gums; look out tummy...here it comes!<br />
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Mmmm...mmmm...good to the last drop! Barnyardy with a citrusy hint of cat pee.<br />
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I tried to get BK to taste it with me, but she didn't want nothin to do with that. I thought we did everything together, worked together, shared a cell at Club Fed together...Whatever!<br />
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Can you get E-Coli poisoning from coffee?<br />
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Next on my list: owl barf tea!<br />
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Okay, well...nature calls!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-8986039627875094102014-04-15T10:02:00.000-07:002014-04-15T10:02:47.017-07:00Today, I'd like to talk about toilet paper...Why do I want to talk about toilet paper? Well, Puff-Pastry-Poppy and I were at O'Reilly's Irish Pub last night...I had the smoked haddock and leek pot pie thing. Damn good. Poppy had the Irish stew. Double damn good. We stopped in to listen to some Irish "trad" music.<br />
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Anyway, I had to tinkle so I went into the bathroom and saw this:<br />
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I got to thinking about the humble toilet paper and how these companies come up with the names and the advertising campaigns. I never realized how competitive selling toilet paper can be. I mean, what the heck does toilet paper have to do with heaven? Have you ever been touched by Heaven? I haven't.<br />
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So, I consulted my Internets to see what is going on in the toilet paper world...I found more religious toilet paper:<br />
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Angel Soft...how do we know that an angel is soft? That's no angel, that's a baby. If that baby is an angel, that means it's dead, yet it looks alive. Guess that esplains the halo. Creepy.<br />
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Next up, the animals. I have never seen a bear use Charmin or any toilet paper for that matter. Although, I've never really witnessed a bear shitting in the woods so I can't confirm or deny that the bear uses toilet paper, but if Mr. Bear does use the toilet paper, he uses 4x less if he's using the Charmin!<br />
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Here's Lambi. Evidently, Lambi is a smart lamb cause he's wearing glasses. The picture is so small that I can't read the writing on the toilet paper. I hope it isn't offensive. What's even more shocking than Lambi wearing glasses is that Lambi can write! Must have opposable hooves. If the toilet paper was made of wool, I could totally get on board with lamb/toilet paper analogy, but really, who wants to wipe their butt with wool? <br />
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One of my favs...<br />
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Who wouldn't buy Hello Kitty Kiss toilet paper?!<br />
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Okay, and this last one I find particularly offensive:<br />
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It's bad enough that the Techsters are taking over our town, but now they have their own elitist toilet paper? WTF?! Probably made with gold dust and the tears of displaced San Franciscans. I hate to admit it, but I'd secretly like to try this elitist toilet paper. Are the sheets bigger? Are the plys hand sewn? Will it blow smoke up my ass? Whatever!<br />
<br />
Now I'm depressed. Let's talk about happy stuff like:<br />
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My radish plate, poppies and BACON!<br />
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<br />
I don't really want to talk about them, just want to exit this with happy stuff.<br />
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Yay for me!<br />
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<br />Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-46891409680501086372014-04-11T09:13:00.001-07:002014-04-11T09:13:44.739-07:00We bought some new backyard furniture...Oh, okay...Exterior-Designer-Poppy bought us some new backyard furniture. You know, if it were left up to me, I'd be sitting on milk crates and staring at a blank wall. Kind of like Roger, only different:<br />
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<br />
Check it out...<br />
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The following are for when Sunset Magazine comes out to do a spread on us...<br />
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Just in case you're wondering...that's non-alcoholic beer I'm drinking cause I haven't had a freakin drink in 7 months. Why did I think it was the drink that made me fat?<br />
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Anyway, some years back, Holiday-Poppy and I were having Christmas at MomJean's. Maybe it was Thanksgiving...I don't remember. Depression-Era-Poppy resurrected Depression-Era-Dad's old grill and she low and slowed us up a giant chicken. This was the best chicken I ever had! Fast forward...Brother-Bill brought Depression-Era-Dad's grill out to us. Internets-Poppy was able to find parts for it too.<br />
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Behold the PK Cooker:<br />
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Wait for it...<br />
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Wait for it...<br />
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Boom!<br />
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See that ass and thigh? Pure muscle! I know you're thinking "I wonder what her routine is to get a body like that?"<br />
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Be on the look out for the outdoor patio edition of Sunset Magazine. I think we'll be in the August issue!<br />
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Chow!<br />
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<br />Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-24313339924449651282014-04-09T14:34:00.000-07:002014-04-09T14:34:42.182-07:00Rough day for The Keckys...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Today, we said goodbye to our little Roger. She was Becky's furry companion of almost 18 years and about 11 for me (she liked me best!). She was a very happy girl and purred right to the very end. We will miss our little lump of licorice love!<br />
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Here, she picked this one just for you!<br />
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Meow!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-43273820268899001472014-03-17T12:40:00.001-07:002014-03-17T12:40:56.955-07:00Let's eat!I was feeling Fwench the other night and had some tilapia fillets so I did them en papillotie! My crimping needs work...<br />
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How about some wee roasted potatoes:<br />
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And since it's St. Patrick's day, Irish-Poppy made us up some corned beef and cabbage...<br />
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I bought a new sweater. It's a silk blend. Why does silk smell so weird?<br />
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Later!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-78282258197371189132014-03-13T12:19:00.000-07:002014-03-13T12:19:04.055-07:00Time is not on my side...What is up with this stupid daylight savings time? Why must we put ourselves through it? It's just not normal for your body to have to get used to this change. I get it's only an hour but I hate it. I have consulted my Internets to educate myself on the reasons why we do this:<br />
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<a href="http://www.timeanddate.com/time/dst/history.html" target="_blank">http://www.timeanddate.com/time/dst/history.html</a><br />
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I started to read this but since my body hasn't adjusted to the time change, I nodded off somewhere in the middle of it...but the part I read with the reasons given, don't apply anymore. I say get rid of it.<br />
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I decided now that it's lighter in the mornings that I'd get up early and get that little dog out for a walk.<br />
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Oh, but wait, last week I ordered some blackout curtains for the bedroom. Nice...Anyway, last night, I set my alarm for 6:30am. But now that I'm thinking about this whole time confusion, it was really like getting up at 5:30am. No wonder when I went outside this morning with the little dog, this is what I saw:<br />
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GOD-DUH!!!<br />
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Now, I can't very well take the little dog back in the house, she'd hate me for life. So, off we go...me, Jax and the flashlight on my smartypantsiHatemyphone. You wanna know how dark and creepy it is at the beach when it's pitch black? Almost at creepy as this:<br />
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I'm sleeping in tomorrow!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-3878322631052247792014-03-05T11:21:00.000-08:002014-03-05T11:21:32.921-08:00What about IT?I'm afraid to report that Petrified-Poppy and I have reached our Middle-Age...the Autumn of our lives...not quite the Golden-Years, but I'm afraid those are just around the corner. Those annoying little aches and pains of our 40's are getting worse. For me, it's my knees and thumb joints. I totally get the knee thing cause I've seen the xray. The thumbs, not so much. For Osteo-Poppy, it's a host of other things that I won't talk about cause she doesn't like to talk about getting old.<br />
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While having dinner with friends some weeks ago, NanNan told us that she'd been seeing an acupuncturist for arthritis in her ankle. I guess the arthritis was almost debilitating. Anyway, she's had amazing results so that got me to thinking about my knees. I've been to the doc and she's recommended PT, but really, making the muscle stronger isn't going to make the pain go away. Never has before. I wanna run, damn it!<br />
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So after some hunting, I found me Anita-The-Acupuncturist. Prior to the appointment, I had to fill out this 5-page intensive intake form. Last night was my first appointment. She asked me all kinds of questions. Stuff like what I eat and drink. Why is it, I feel the need to fib about this stuff? Sometimes, I don't eat breakfast, but I lied and said I eat fruit for breakfast. Rarely do I eat fruit for breakfast. Well, wouldn't you know I'm "cold" so I shouldn't be eating fruit or cold stuff for breakfast. Now I have to backtrack and say I don't always eat fruit for breakfast..."like this morning, I had a hard-boiled egg and it wasn't cold, it was room temperature!"<br />
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Evidently, because I'm cold, I need to eat and drink a lot of ginger cause that's considered a "warm" food. That's why the Japanese eat wasabi and spicy ginger with their sushi...not only for the microbial properties in the wasabi, but a little warm (spicy) with the cold balances it all out. Even though that whole yin/yang thing is Chinese. Whatever.<br />
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Speaking of yin and yang...there a yin/yang symbol for just about anything...<br />
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Creepy Cat-lady Yin/Yang.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkjwvGKKp-yY7Exa0MWMnns0K4zeG5g87JVxZu86i-DZyLGbOp_AHmR9ivYfp8BPu5gjc4QboF1QE3TJHiQisaDREfLwfvscBb4HpPJtL8Z9iwKKMsN2N4VNMKtBMUETtRvcjnAwBy3bF/s1600/cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkjwvGKKp-yY7Exa0MWMnns0K4zeG5g87JVxZu86i-DZyLGbOp_AHmR9ivYfp8BPu5gjc4QboF1QE3TJHiQisaDREfLwfvscBb4HpPJtL8Z9iwKKMsN2N4VNMKtBMUETtRvcjnAwBy3bF/s1600/cat.jpg" /></a></div>
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Weird aliens things fighting over the Yin/Yang. That's not very nice or balancing!<br />
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I don't know what this one is...unisex restroom Yin/Yang?<br />
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I heart Yin/Yang.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD1qjQgqXytrNzamsNSYpOetHQLp4m8aElvGpT-kHqVMXe1U76jFhZfN-R_AEFG-55YqWiYopvoCyPmgxm8ujyzNm-QXhRN0CPJd3nUNF9oxZvkiAtnr0-ozRPyGbI-N7HhRXpbpcikgQ/s1600/i+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD1qjQgqXytrNzamsNSYpOetHQLp4m8aElvGpT-kHqVMXe1U76jFhZfN-R_AEFG-55YqWiYopvoCyPmgxm8ujyzNm-QXhRN0CPJd3nUNF9oxZvkiAtnr0-ozRPyGbI-N7HhRXpbpcikgQ/s1600/i+heart.jpg" /></a></div>
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This one is totally conflicted...<br />
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Sing it with me..."He's got the whole Yin and Yang in his hands, he's got the whole Yin and Yang in his hands..."<br />
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Mmmm, breakfast Yin/Yang.<br />
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I'd like some coffee with my breakfast Yin/Yang!<br />
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This one is just wrong! I'm surprised I didn't find a Minkey Yin/Yang...<br />
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My favorite: Asscrack Yin/Yang. She wears her pants like this all the time so folks know her Qi is balanced. I tried to figure out if there was an asscrack meridian point and what it represents, but no luck.<br />
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Back to business...Anita-The-Acupuncturist asked me to stick out my tongue. Again, I got all nervous and blurted out "But I've had coffee!!" I also flashed back to other time I had to stick out my tongue. I'd had a bunch of Zinfandel the night before and didn't think to brush my tongue. They said I had Black Hairy Tongue and needed to take some drugs for it. The dentist gave me a tongue scaper too. That's disgusting, by the way.<br />
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It appears my tongue is pale. Then she said she was going to take my pulse "The Chinese Way." I wasn't sure what that meant other than thinking that she'd take it in my asscrack or something. But no, she took it from my wrist. I guess it's more about how it sounds than where it's taken. Wanna know what mine sounds like? Yeah, it sounds weak and empty. This is not going well at all.<br />
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ATA asks me if I'm stressed. Who me? Nah...Her diagnosis is that I'm emotionally tapped. My kidneys and spleen need some serious help. My woman parts need some Chinese herbs. Oh, and let's not even talk about my Qi...<br />
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Now it's time for the poking to start. I don't mind needles, I just hate getting my blood taken. Let's see, I got three needles in my left wrist/hand, two on my right, I got one in each ear and one at the top of my head. You know, I wear all this petroleum product in my hair, so again I get all weirded out and say "I swear, my hair isn't dirty, it's petroleum product." I'm not sure, but I think she was about ready to slap me. Anyway, then I got a needle in my forehead, a couple in my knees and a bunch in my feet.<br />
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Then she put a heat lamp on my foot and one on my stomach and said she'd be back in 30 minutes. You know, having a bunch of needles stuck in you, laying on some table and having heat lamps searing your skin was oddly relaxing...until the 30 minute timer went off. Geezus! I thought I'd jump out of my skin. Why would you have an obnoxious timer go off after you've been laying there all warm and cozy listening to birds singing and shit? I think that undid all my good Yin/Yang Qi stuff and I think part of my uterus fell out on the table.<br />
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We left it where she would send me an email outlining my course of $$$ treatment $$$.<br />
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All kidding aside, it was pretty cool. I love this kind of stuff.<br />
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Chow!Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619344176188342194.post-84599097751221461492014-02-19T14:27:00.000-08:002014-02-19T14:27:11.146-08:00I'm having some serious writer's block...Have you noticed?<br />
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So, I got this i-hate-my-Phone5C some months ago. About the only thing I like about it is the camera and all the different effects it has. Check it out...<br />
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Here are two B/W effects of a surfboard I found at the beach...that I neglected to take home for our garden. I went back to get it and it was gone. DOH!<br />
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Same day at the beach with a sand-dollar:<br />
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The amaryllis that bloomed around Christmas time:<br />
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Fire:<br />
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This was really cool...Advencha-Poppy and I were in town on Saturday night. Went into an illy cafe. They had this really cool light fixture...it's all coffee cups:<br />
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I like this setting cause it has that bluish-green tone that reminds me of pics from the 50/60's.<br />
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Here's another with that setting...this one is at Donner Lake:<br />
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And this one is Jax's toys doing the nasty, evidently. Stoopid-Minkey gettin it on with the Holiday-Dino...Gross, it's kind of like walking in on your parents when they're having sex, only different.</div>
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Not bad for a phone camera.</div>
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Oh, Fatass and I got one of those Fitbit things in January. We've been entering every thing we eat, keeping track of our steps and sleep. The best part is based on your stats, it tracks your calories in and the calories you've expended. It should come as no surprise to us, but it did, that we eat way to much! Like, we only need to be eating half of what we are generally eating. WHAT? Yeah, it's true.</div>
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Did I ever mention that I have Julia Child's cookbook? It's the one she wrote, but then Meri-Canized it. Basically it said in the book that each recipe has been doubled for Meri-Can serving size. That's why all them Fwench people are thin!! </div>
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Anyway, this Fitbit thing, when it's working right, it's a really cool tool. The only hitch on the step counter is when I ride my scooter to and from work, it gives me 1,000 steps each way. That's like cheating, kind of.</div>
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Now, if I could only find the IT!</div>
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Later!</div>
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Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202899566100279911noreply@blogger.com0