Ok, for anyone who reads this blog I have to ask a question: did someone buy me a subscription to Martha Stewart’s Living magazine? I ask because when I arrived home on Friday night there was one in my mailbox with my name on it. If you did - thank you. If you did not I need to check my bank statements to make sure someone else did...not.
So just a quick glance over the glossy magazine and I see what will be hours spent pouring over beautiful pages, filled with thousands of ideas. Most of which I will say “I could do that” or “I could TOTALLY make THAT”. When I close the magazine I will forget all of those fabulous ideas and get back to my life. My real life.
I only say real life because of this:
Martha Stewart's "To Do" Calendar.
Published...for people to read & believe.
Published...for people to read & believe.
On the 3rd she's going to take her shoes to the cobbler, see.
Oh Martha of yore how you amaze me.
In Orange Park there is one "shoe repair guy", but no cobblers. I looked.
On the 7th she will be watching the Super Bowl.
while the Super Bowl plays in the background - yes. I could totally see that.
On the 13th the cats will be getting catnip.
Why this requires scheduling is so beyond me,
but it might help explain the 17th.
they are gonna need some grooming. Vomit and mud are near
impossible to get out of fur. Trust me...I mean Martha.
The 21st...
"take inventory of wines" cause there would be none to inventory.
Who keeps wine long enough to inventory???
I open the fridge and it's there or it's not. Done.
Organize the basement yes - those pissed off cats
got down there and made a friggin mess.
hand and some ill groomed cat in another? I can.
Well, all good things must come to an end. But not this blog. "There's more???" you say? Why yes - yes there is. My goal here is not to mock Ms. Stewart, although I do feel this blog will come across like that - but please know that is not my intention.
Having said that, will ya take a look at this...
Martha just holding a chicken like it's nothin'...
First thoughts anyone? Anyone?
Mine, you ask?
Oh well my FIRST thought was: this chicken must be a drugged. Has anyone ever tried to pick one of these things up? Maybe Martha used some of her "skills” to subdued the bird, I don't know, but I wasn’t that lucky. This photo it just a fabulous lead in to my “chicken trauma” story which simply must be told.
Mine, you ask?
Oh well my FIRST thought was: this chicken must be a drugged. Has anyone ever tried to pick one of these things up? Maybe Martha used some of her "skills” to subdued the bird, I don't know, but I wasn’t that lucky. This photo it just a fabulous lead in to my “chicken trauma” story which simply must be told.
I was in 6th grade (for the first time) and was on a field trip. I can recall which grade because I did it twice. (Went from public to private school and had a rough first year) and also because there was a class bully - Ali.
Ali was a good head & shoulders above all the girls in the class...and most of the boys. She was not only tall, she was mean. A mean, intimidating, basketball playing roughian. And tall. Did I mention she was tall...and mean?
Ali was a good head & shoulders above all the girls in the class...and most of the boys. She was not only tall, she was mean. A mean, intimidating, basketball playing roughian. And tall. Did I mention she was tall...and mean?
So we’re on this field trip to some agriculture / natural history museum type place and we walk into a building full of nothing but chickens. There was a brief presentation then as a “treat” they brought out a box of baby chicks for us to pet & hold.
I corralled one of these lightening quick boogers in the corner of the box and picked it up only to have it poop all in my hand.
Poooooooopppppp in my haaaaaannnnnnddd.
I dropped it (literally) back on the table and proceeded to be grossed out to the max (80's reference there). There was no amount of hand washing or Purell that was going to make this memory go away. Bully Ali, gave me a glaring look then leaned in and flared her arms out like she was going to hit me for dropping it. I remember my face turning beet red and walking away embarrassed...with poop in my hands.
Poooooooopppppp in my haaaaaannnnnnddd.
I dropped it (literally) back on the table and proceeded to be grossed out to the max (80's reference there). There was no amount of hand washing or Purell that was going to make this memory go away. Bully Ali, gave me a glaring look then leaned in and flared her arms out like she was going to hit me for dropping it. I remember my face turning beet red and walking away embarrassed...with poop in my hands.
I changed as a person that day. I went from liking eggs to being determined to eat them every day for the rest of my life. That'll show them! And for bully Ali I went from not liking her to hating her...on the inside. What’s that called? Passive-aggressive behavior? Pix....hey Pix - you know all the names for crazy people’s behaviors, is passive-aggressive the right term? Oh wait - “childish” is the term I was looking for here...childish. Yes, that was it.
So that’s my "one bird in the hand, is better tan two in the"...wait that’s not right. That’s my “a freaking bird pooped in my hand” story. I feel closer to you now having told it. We should hug. P.S. Martha honey you look fabulous and I’m impressed with your chicken wrestling skills, but my story had to be told. Please don’t stop reading my blog, please. 11 pages in...and it just kept getting better.
I need a math whiz for this next one.
Harvesting your own maple syrup...
Harvesting your own maple syrup...
Exactly how much syrup does one tree yield?
How long can self bottled syrup be shelved for?
How many freaking waffles and pancakes would you have to
consume before it expires? I have things to do - clearly...as you can see.
consume before it expires? I have things to do - clearly...as you can see.
$140 for a bucket and spigot. Not to mention endless hours spent checking your buckets, getting that sticky crap EVERYWHERE in your house, plus the dishes...the dishes I would need to jar/can this stuff would push me over the edge. And I live in Florida - the bugs. The bugs that would find their way into my home to get to that sugary goodness??? I’m beside myself just thinking about it. Just spend the $2 at the grocery store and call it a day - but don’t put it all out there like I NEED to tap my trees. Tap my trees...kiss my...Well, let’s just say it’s not for me.
Crafting / recycle FAIL. Nuff said. If you've never see the website called Craft Fail you're in for a treat. My sides hurt for days after a friend introduced me to it. It's like therapy for the well intentioned crafter. We try...and that's really all that can be said - the pictures tell the story waaaaayyyyy better.
I LOVE the way these clear cake plates were
photographed...beautiful!! See it’s not ALL criticizing!
Oh wait - spoke too soon.
Did I read this right - a handled tray to make the "job" of
carrying pressed items from the ironing board to the closet easier.
Show of hands how difficult it would be to do this task WITHOUT a $40 tray...anyone...thought not.
Show of hands how difficult it would be to do this task WITH a $40 tray? I'm just sayin'.
Page 68 and I’m just exhausted!
I just found my happy place...all my jealousy and bitterness is gone...
I swear I can smell them.
Ok, I have to stop criticizing. I reached the recipe section and my eyes glazed over. All of the recipes looked fabulous but I don’t have mass quantities of “unsalted butter” on hand - so I can’t make any of them even if I wanted.
Wow. What a great way to spend a Friday night...I need a date...and fast. Someone please save me from myself.
Wow. What a great way to spend a Friday night...I need a date...and fast. Someone please save me from myself.
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