Category: Daily

I would like to introduce you to David Mead.

A good friend of mine had Mr. Mead write “To the Best Angie, David Mead” on a piece of paper for me a few years back.

David Mead is one of my melancholy choices—the perfect voice for an evening during which I purchased a pair of pants in a size I swore I would never wear.

Every time I listen to this song, I make tentative plans to take the girls to Nashville and show them all of my old hangouts, including Pancake Pantry. Wait. What was that I just said about my pants? Interesting. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I threw a cake when I was nine. I’ll tell you that story later.

As you know, I had to take a food item to school yesterday for teachers to snack on during the Parent/Teacher Conferences. Harper and I went to the store yesterday morning, and quickly decided on a cheese and sausage platter with crackers.

When we returned home, Harper looked at me with her big brown eyes and said, “I wanted to take brownies to the teachers because I wanted to MAKE brownies for the teachers.”

Hhhhh. Let’s make brownies.

We had less than an hour to make brownies and still get Harper and the snacks to school on time. Combine brownie mix, eggs, oil, chocolate chips, etc., spread in a greased foil throwaway pan, bake for 42 minutes, take brownies out of the oven, apply plastic lid, shove hand into oven mitt and carry brownies out to the car with the cheese, crackers, and preschooler. Done.

Know this: We bought new boots for Harper a few weeks ago. They’re pink and suede and awkward. (Awkward = Foreshadowing!) Okay. Back to our story.

When we arrived at school, I had less than five minutes to deliver the snacks to the office before delivering Harper to preschool pick-up. I parked the car, wedged the cheese and crackers into the crook of my left arm, shoved my left hand into the oven mitt and balanced the hot brownies on my left hand. (Can you tell that something wicked this way comes?) I then opened Harper’s door with my right hand, and she undid her seat belt and started to climb out of the car. As she climbed down, her boot got caught on the front seat (I *told* you they’re awkward!), and she started to stumble. When I went to steady her with my right hand, my ankle did that thing that ankles sometimes do when they suddenly give out and you lose your balance. When my ankle did that thing, I accidentally chucked the hot brownies like a frisbee across the parking lot.

Me: Shit.

Harper: You can’t say that.

Me: Yeah. Okay then. I just did.

I retrieved the brownies from across the lot (they were all cracked and bent up like they had been hit by a car (surprisingly, the plastic lid stayed on)), returned them to the passenger side of my car, and Harper and I ran in and delivered the cheese.

Super Nice Lady in the Office: Oh! Thank you so much for the cheese and crackers! This is great!

Me (in constant need of both praise and a good confession): Thanks! I just fell down and hurled brownies across the parking lot.

SNLitO (pronounced Sin LIT Oh): Are you okay?

Me (doing the thing that I do): Oh! I’m good. And the lid stayed on the brownies, and they’re the kind of brownies that have chocolate chips on top. I Fell Down!

SNLitO (aka Dumbledore, because she’s so wise and forgiving): Teachers Eat Anything.

So I went outside, tried my best to bend the brownie container back into shape—a feat not completely unlike trying to bend a Cutlass Supreme back into shape—and turned them in to SNLitO. And she complimented their smell. Because she sees the good in everything.

I could learn a lot from SNLitO.

We all could. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I envied him.

Beth asked for it, and I totally love her.

Sir did it, and he is one of my absolute favorites.

And because I spent many lonely teenage hours working on my handwriting (I *really* wanted my signature to look more like a logo than a signature), I’m sharing it with you. Please enjoy my very favorite piece by Mark Strand. It was written about you, you know.

gstrand ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The only problem: Tomatoes aren’t so good right now.

Our parent/teacher conference is on Thursday evening, and I have volunteered to bring a food item to school for the teachers to snack on during the conferences. Because my mind tends to swim around in paltry waters and I want my food item to be a Memorable and Thoughtful food item (preferably containing a protein of some sort because that’s what I tend to crave these days), I’m obsessing about what to bring.

My brain is telling me to buy a 30 pack of Taco Bell tacos.

My heart is telling me to create an out of this world vegetarian taco dip casserole thing.

My daughters are telling me to bake brownies.

My husband is telling me that he’s leaving town on Wednesday and won’t be returning until approximately two minutes before our first conference.

Any recommendations?

In completely unrelated news, if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll notice that I’ve come out of hiding (I’m not so good at Twitter, if one may be considered Good at Twitter) and am now completing nearly every one of my thoughts with #momspotting. I’ll be telling you more about that in the coming weeks, but for now, here’s a video that will surely catapult you to the edge of your seats.

Vegetarian taco dip, right? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m thinking of pulling out The House of Mirth again.

The first book my book club read was Revolutionary Road. Because I recommended the book, I read it. On book club night, we watched the movie, discussed the book while eating at Canyon Cafe, and chose our next book .

The second book my book club read was The Other Queen. I tried to read it. Really, I did. And when the book club scheduled the next gathering and I hadn’t even made it to the halfway point, I purchased the audio book. And I tried to get through it. But I failed. And when I went to the meeting to discuss the book, I spent most of my time discussing the lemon bars I had made. (They were really great lemon bars! Worth talking about! Mary, Queen of Who?!)

The third book my book club read was Three Cups of Tea. And something must be wrong with me, because I couldn’t get through that one, either. And when the book club scheduled the next gathering and I hadn’t even made it to the halfway point, I purchased the audio book. And I tried to get through it. But I failed. (Does this paragraph sound oddly familiar?!) I had a migraine the night of the bonfire/discussion session—which bums me out to this day, because come on. Bonfire. I still haven’t read the book.

The fourth book my book club read was The Shack. And get this. We chose the book sometime in April, I believe, and I’M STILL NOT FINISHED WITH IT. We’re meeting on Sunday, and I have about forty more pages to go, which means I’ll probably get through it, but what is wrong with me?! I can’t read a book in six months? And it’s a book about God! I should totally be done with it by now!

I’m still working on Infinite Jest. I had a brief e-mail exchange last week with a woman who summed up my feelings perfectly. The more I read this book, the more I fall in love with it, and the more I don’t want it to end. So I’m reading it very slowly. Too slowly. I don’t even believe I’ve reached page 300 yet.

I am not getting any smarter, Internet, and I believe it’s because I’m not reading as much as I should.

I blame silk and wool.

What are you reading these days? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I put the meat-free thing on hold when it comes to chili.

My father and I have a problem.

We’re chili fans, you see, and it seems that RB Rice has stopped producing their chili block, which was a vital ingredient in our Perfect Chili recipe. Without the RB Rice chili block, we’re left shaking our heads and throwing beans and spices around all willy nilly.

Dad has found that the recipe on the back of the Brooks Chili Seasoning bag is good, and adding a can of drained kidney beans makes it even better.

I have been known to melt Hershey bars in my chili. Once again, I have no idea what I’m doing.

Are you sitting on The Perfect Chili Recipe? Cough it up, my friend.

My father and I are starting to feel desperate.

And ’tis the season. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

NaBloPoMo Day Two: Thorn in the side, pea in the shoe, etc.

One of the Pudding kids is not eating the turkey we pack for her lunch. According to her best friend, she throws her turkey away Every Single Day. That’s a lot of wasted turkey.

One of the Pudding kids has not been washing her hands after using the bathroom. Instead, she finishes using the bathroom, turns the water on for ten seconds, turns it off again, and walks out thinking she has fooled us. However, I caught her this morning, so she has lost her Washing Hands in Private privileges until further notice. Everyone is sick. EVERYONE. You HAVE to WASH your HANDS. (Yes. I’m very paranoid about this.)

The sink in the kitchen is backed up and I believe it’s because of tree roots growing into our front yard pipes. The plumber came out last year and predicted that he would be making yearly visits to clear the roots. Today is the day. Meanwhile, the kitchen, which is normally fairly messy, is Messy Deluxe. And this is two hundred dollars that we really should not be spending.

While taking Harper to school an hour ago, I drove past a bunch of protestors dancing and yelling at cars while waving their hands in the air like a bunch of idiotic marionettes near the Jewish Communty Center. From what I could gather during my ten second drive-by, they “HATE OBAMA the ANTI-CHRIST!”, they know that “JEWS will be FORCED to REPENT! NOW!”, and “HEALTHCARE for EVERYONE is STUPID!” And, you know what? After the whole turkey/handwash/sink thing, I was already nearing the end of my wits. When Harper asked me to read the signs to her, for the first time ever, I refused. All I could say was, “I don’t think they’re being very nice, Harper.” You know, I respect anyone’s right to speak their mind, if they can do it respectfully and intelligently. In fact, I encourage it! More importantly, I won’t hit you with my car if I disagree with you! But I have to say, standing near an elementary school with a poster of President Obama painted to look like Satan? Really? Worst of all, I saw at least three kids amongst the protestors. Kids who were laughing and yelling out hateful things at passing cars.

I’m tired. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

NaBloPoMo: Kicking it Real.

According to my calendar, this week we’ll see the frost moon, a day to vote, and Roy Roger’s birthday.

Last night found the girls dressed up exactly as they were for last week’s Trunk or Treat minus the rain plus the pink hair.

Ready to Roll!

The night before last saw us posing to show off my recently completed February Lady. (And yes. Harper had whiskers. Actually, she still does! They’re very faint. Don’t mention them to her unless you want to see her explode.)

"Hey, (February) Laydeeee!"

Today? A late brunch with my road trip posse and an appointment to see a store about some yarn. I have been told that all my cousin wants for Christmas—all he has EVER wanted—is a pair of hand-knit socks. Hand-knit socks for his Size 13 feet. I need to see what I can do about that.

Good morning, NaBloPoMo. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>