Monday, May 12, 2008


Well, Dust came home from a roadtrip not too long ago (he helped haul our friend home (finally!) to our neck of the woods) so I thought I would show you the best pictures that they took.

They are doozies, lemme tell ya!  Mmmm, ribs!

Just a good pic of the trio in the truck that trekked three thousand plus miles.

Oh Jon, you are silly.  And not handicapped.  Welllll ....

Really, who doesn't take pictures of roadkill?

With each other for 4 days, 3 nights, and are STILL friends.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Generosity at its finest

It could be said of Dust and I that we are generous.  Solely, for ONE reason.  His name is Heinke (pronounced like "Hank", but spelled wrong... good job Jon).  And that reason is because we pet-sit about 7 months out of the year for our friends' rat while he's in the navy.  Well... weasel, pig, tasmanian creature, etc; you get the point, he has a LONG list of pet names.  (Insert *chuckle* cause I know you just did!)

Just so you don't get scared and run far, far away from your computer, I'll first show you a picture of our pride and joy in his short-lived teenage years (merely because his existence at this size was hardly a month) and also at the very size that Heinke last knew him at.  If he could talk, he would be saying, "Mama, pwease don't go to yor paintbawl twip."  I just know it.

And here's the little terror that we kick.   detest.   allow to reside in our house.

And this is who Heinke came back to last month.  No wonder he was a little leery of him... can you say DOMINATION????  Oh yeah, baby!  (Except Heinke's the mean one.  It could be a defense mechanism, but we don't like to give him excuses.)

I think Jericho's head may weigh more than Heinke's entire body.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

You know you're ready...

for a child when you:

-teach your puppy to eat properly;
-put your puppy in a timeout;
-schedule puppy play-dates;
-teach your puppy to share his toys;
-and teach your puppy to not growl while sharing said toys;
-get embarrassed when your puppy doesn't obey the first time;
-constantly talk to your puppy with the coined 'baby talk' language;
-refer to your puppy as your child;
-take great pride in your puppy's wits;
-take great pride in your puppy's good looks;
-have a designated play area in the house (so your puppy is always in view, and all his toys are in one place);
-hurt a little inside when Papa really punishes puppy for not listening to Mama;
-plan fun outings where your puppy can run and frolic to his heart's content;
-feed your puppy first before yourself;
-get excited when puppy "does his business" when and where you want him to; and
-have a diaper bag for your puppy.

Except... that we're just not ready. Sorry.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

It happened.

The inevitable has finally occurred. As I was speeding racing overly anxious on the gas pedal driving to work today (with a slight possibility of arriving late as I may OR may not have slept in a good 30 minutes little bit past my alarm), I drove over a hill near our house only to see a sheriff flying (I'm sure within the normal confined of the unclearly posted speed limit) at me from the bottom of the hill.

As soon as he saw me, he flipped those flashers on, pulled a U-eee, even sprayed gravel at the house whose driveway he felt it necessary to utilize, and came a-racin' after me. Oh, man.

Okay, think, think, think. What do I sayyyy????

"Uh, ma'am, do you realize you were going 51 in a 35?" "Oh, nope. Sorry."

***Ahhhhhh!!!*** Have my inherited lawyerly skills been lost? Have I not talked my way out of four a mere couple of other tickets?

Dust and I have been talking lately about what we deserve, and that even as Christians we all deserve hell and that it's ONLY by the grace of God that we are spared. So, here this is running through my head (Why at this moment???? I don't know...) and I now am completely tongue-tied. Just staring at the officer, nodding my head, and saying: "Uh huh, uh huh"; "Oh, sorry"; "My bad". Of course, after he hands me my ticket do I think of some intelligible, side-tracking question. Great!

Well, at least I now have something to apply my government issued refund to... BACK to the government!

Monday, May 5, 2008

Invest it wisely

Well, if tax refunds won't make you smile, I don't know what will. It is always a good day when you get money back. I even captured the moment for blogging proof that we did, in fact, receive our earlier stated HUGE refund! Ohhhh, the possibilities. Where to spend this cash that just hopped right into my lap and is now begging for me to spend?! Wow, now that's a true dilemma.

Uh, back to reality now.

And if the government doesn't have to rub this in my face enough, here's what the envelope and little enclosure said.

Ohhhhh. Okay. Let me invest my $35 whole dollars WITH THE GOVERNMENT!! Puh-lease.

And, aren't they (the "government peoples") sending a bit too many mixed signals? Why, then, am I getting a rebate in July that they'll encourage me to SPEND, all in the name of boosting the economy; could this be because it'll be relegated as earned income on my 2008 tax return? Lovely, just lovely. They are not encouraging the growth of my savings account which is something that makes me smile.

If I didn't already have plans to spend both checks, I would really make a statement and save 'em both.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Yah, uh huh, right

I love fun, little quizzes. And so I took one. Well, I took like 15. And I liked this one because it made me laugh.

Your Slogan Should Be

Rebecca. As Delicate as a Caress.

Yah, right. Shall I remind us all about our soccer incident? I'm about as delicate as a 4-year old.

I hit the generate button a couple times to get one I liked. But... what should your slogan be??

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Oh the weather outside is frightful... la la la

If you shan't believe me that it's a tad chill-ay over here, maybe this will prove my point.

This was taken one week ago.  Uhhh, icicles people, these are icicles!

Oh brrrr, now I need to go grab another sweatshirt.

When you're handed lemons, make lemonade

Or, if you have one banana at home, you can rush to the nearest grocery store to pick up mangos, oranges, and apples... all to attempt the replication of the fruit juices you could just buy at the grocery store.  So, this is what our night consisted of.  (Fascinating, I KNOW!)

Oh the story of our lives continues to repeat itself.  Dusty is making food while I am doing anything but.  EXCEPT this time!  I am documenting!  Our future family will just be ecstatic over this juicy tidbit of information.  I just know it.

Anyway, Dust loves fruit, more so than anyone I may have ever met.  And he likes it mixed altogether.  Weird, BUT I did promise that I would stick by "in sickness and in health".  This is a sickness people.  Now, I do love me some fruit, but I prefer the "to each their own" motto to also apply to my natural grown wonders.  So this actually comes to no surprise that Dust would enjoy making these.  Anywho, here is the finished product.  

Dust asked if he should move the mixer so it's out of the picture.  NEVER!  It's my pride and joy!  I've only used it 3 times just so it'll stay so white!  (It was also the only clean spot on the counter to take a picture, but nevertheless....)

Our fruity cocktails.  Mmmmm.  Made with pure fruit, no rinds, and water.  Just like Bible times, minus the blender, of course.

Spring chickens

Well, the other little reminder that spring is right around the corner (last day in April and it hailed, spring has not arrived in my book... or at my house) is the annual stocking up of these little furballs.

Which are currently inside my parents-in-law's house because it's near freezing here. For the little chickadees, not actual human types. That point aside, aren't they super cute?

I thought so too, until I picked one up and my hand was, ugh, wet. "Oh, they all have wet feet," pipes up my lil sis-in-law. Reeeeeeeally!

The trip to get chicks and ducks is simply two-fold in nature:
1. to signal the beginning of the new season; and
2. to replenish the stock from last year.

The poor poopers don't stand a chance, they really don't. And as cute as they are now, and as little meat as there is on those wings, this does not detract from the magnetic force drawing the local coyotes to the seasonal Chick-and-Duck-fil-A restaurant.

Well, at least there are appetizing green eggs from the ones that do survive!

Related Posts with Thumbnails