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http://stamparita.blogspot.com

New vocabulary

First order of business, yes, I know my blog looks different and the titles of the post aren’t showing. I’m not sure what’s going on. I’m looking into putting my blog on a different website, but please be patient. I’m waiting for a day when I’m feeling confident about my techy skills (those don’t come along often).

So let’s take a look at this week’s vocabulary: palimpsest, cavalier, ferrule and cockalorum. Give a shot, work them into conversation. Craig, you do not get extra points for being able to do this. For you it’s just not a challenge.

 

Vocabulary

To make sure our brains don’t turn to mush over the summer, let’s work on improving our vocab. Here are the words of the week:

schadenfreude                                      lagniappe                                                                                hinky                                                        tchotchke

If you don’t know the words, look them up. Try using them in your daily conversation. For extra credit, use them all in one sentence!

Plants, part deux

When Mom came to help with my outdoor pots, she also addressed an issue with the indoor plants. It was too difficult to talk about at the time, but enough time has passed that I think I have some perspective.

Exhibit A: This peace lily has been in my living room or entryway for years. Maybe when you look at something every day you don’t see it. Mom has said things to me over the years about the plant and I thought I was doing what she said. I was cutting back dead stalks and watering it (well, most of the time). This time when she was visiting, she just couldn’t take it anymore. She said she couldn’t believe my friends weren’t giving me a hard time about how bad it looked. It does?! She told me she was going to take it home to give it some TLC and revive it. It was like Social Services came in and told me I was a bad parent, ripping my child from my arms! When I was visting Mom & Dad in Topeka a couple of weeks later, I was shocked! At first I couldn’t believe the transformation. Then upon closer inspection I realized it wasn’t my plant. Apparently mine was beyond saving. The basket was rotting out and there were more dead than live stalks. After seeing what a healthy, vibrant plant looks like, I have to admit she did the right thing. I didn’t realize how sad my previous plant was. So welcome new green peace lily. I pledge to water you, and I just found out this weekend, I’m supposed to fertilize as well. What?! So far so good. Look, it even has blooms coming in!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May Day, May Day!

That is both in celebration of May Day and a distress call to the Master Gardener. This may come as a surprise to most of you, but gardening is not one of my talents. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Last year my mom agreed to come plant my flower pots for me (after years of begging I finally wore her down). And they looked pretty damn good! I kept them watered (for the most part) and they lasted well into the fall.

So I sent out the bat signal again this year and Mom came on Tuesday to help me plant. We first took inventory of how many pots were in the sun and how many in the shade and then took off to the nursery. We were throwing stuff into the cart like we knew what we were doing (well, one of us did). There weren’t a lot of shade plants to choose from and one of the spikey things (yes, that’s it’s plantalogical name) I wanted was gone. So we decided to take our purchases home and reassess the situation. 

We determined we needed a few more shade plants and some fillers. Mom suggested we make a list of what we needed. A list! Now that is something I can get behind; love a good list. I would have done that to begin with and not been able to veer away from the list. I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout no plants, and if it ain’t on my list, I ain’t buyin’ it! 

So we go to the next nursery with a plan, and the moment we pulled into the parking lot I knew I’d lost her. She immediately went to a plant and was asking someone about it and decided we needed a couple of those. It wasn’t on the list, but I’m not the expert here, so I went along with it. After wandering in two separate directions for about 20 minutes and throwing various things into the cart, she decides we’re done. Um, what about the list? She just laughs and shrugs her shoulders. We’ve put a lot of things into the cart, but only a couple of them were on the list. “Oh this is good. We’ll make this work”. Who is “we”, I’m wondering? What the hell did we make a list for if we weren’t going to consult it? But she’s having a great time, saying this place is like a candy store. Yeah, she’s not paying for it and none of it is on the frickin’ list!

But we get it home and she starts to make the magic happen. I’m just an assistant for this part. I stir up the old soil, add some new soil and fertilizer. I’ve decided I must not put enough plants into a pot. She has these babies full with some of this here, and we’ll put some over there. Oh, we have one of these left over, we’ll just stuff it in here. It looks good, but I’m not really sure what all is in there.

Here is an action shot:

And a picture of the master in her natural habitat (I didn’t make her sweep; the broom is just an accessory to her outfit):
Here are the final products:

 Plants to watch this year:  Dwarf Papyrus, Baby Tut and Black Velvet Petunias. I have high hopes for these.  Oh, and gardening tip of the day: did you know you aren’t supposed to get the blooms of geraniums wet when you are watering them? They will bloom better if you water the soil only. Who knew? I didn’t.

Is it just me?

Can any of you relate to any of these things or am I the only one:

1. If I have a long to-do list or job I’ve been putting off, I give myself a little pep talk–out loud. Some variation of “You can do this. You’re fired up, let’s go! Let’s commence to make things happen!” Then I clap and get after it.

2. When eating M&Ms  (or any candy with different colors), if there are multiples of one color, I will eat them until I get it down to the same number of each. For example, if there are 4 orange and only 2 blue, I will eat 2 of the orange so that I now have an even number of each color. Then I eat them alternating colors.

3. When I’m putting away plates, towels, socks, etc. I make sure to rotate my stock. I put the clean ones at the bottom of the stack or back of pile. I want them used evenly and I’m afraid they’ll feel slighted if they aren’t used in order. I don’t like to play favorites.

4. Stairs with open space between the treads freak me out. I think I’m going to fall through. I have to hold onto the railing, take a deep breath and concentrate. Scary!

5. When using my GPS to give me directions, I try to beat the estimated time of arrival. If it says 4:15, I think “oh yeah? I’m going to get there by 4:13″!

6. If there are 2 switches in a room that control a light, I need them to match. You can’t turn the light on at one switch and then turn it off at the other. Then one switch will be on and the other off. No, that just won’t do. I have to go back and turn it back on at the first one and then off at the second so that they are both in the off position when the light is off.

7. I fold my bathroom towels and then roll them to fit in my towel holder, but the hemmed edges have to be in the back or the universe will not spin correctly.

8. Driving over tall, arched bridges scares the HELL out of me. I am not a fan of heights and I really hate not being able to see anything over the edge. I get a fluttery, panicky feeling in my chest. If I’m driving (which I really would prefer not to be doing), I have to stare at the center line and try to keep driving straight. Just thinking about it gives me the heebie jeebies!

9. If I see a strange car in my neighborhood or someone who just doesn’t look right when I’m out and about, I will make note of the time and exact location in case there is some criminal activity going on and I need to give the police an eyewitness account.

10. Everytime I walk into Nordstrom’s, I hear angels sing. Do you hear them too?

That’s it for tonight’s edition of “obsessive compulsive theatre”.

Go Shox!

How ‘bout them Shockers?! Ray was mad after their lackluster performance in St. Louis, so he did not want to attend their round 1 NIT game at home. He said they’d received enough of our money this year. I knew by next November he’d come around; the wound was just too fresh right now. So we watched the first game at home and we were both dumb-founded. Who was this team coming out and just dominating?! I think Nebraska was asking the same thing. The Shox showed up to kick ass and take names. It was fun to watch. Ray had a twinge of “we should have gone”, but he was happy to watch at home.

So Sunday they played Virginia Tech at their court. It wasn’t the immediate runaway like the Nebraska game, but we were hanging in there. Ray had written them off by half-time, saying “at least they didn’t embarrass themselves”. They took it to overtime and it was a little nerve wracking, but I’ll be damned if they didn’t pull it off! The Shox beat the Hokies 79-76 and earned another home game. So now the dilemma—do we go to the game? They were holding season ticket holders tickets until 5pm on Monday. I said, “Ray we gotta go”. He agreed. They have now earned more of his money. I’m hoping our attendance is not a jinx. So look for us on TV Wednesday night at 6pm.

And on a somber note, poor Sammie got dissed this morning. As I was pulling into the parking lot of doggy daycare, I saw a man walking in his vizsla, all young, tall and slender. When we got to the door the man was coming out and stopped to pet Sammie. I started to comment on his vizsla, and before I could, he said “This dog has some vizsla in her doesn’t she?”  SOME? She’s a full-blooded registered vizsla dude! Just because she’s old, gray and a little chubby doesn’t mean she isn’t the same as your vizsla! Of course I didn’t not say that; I just smiled. She may be old, but her hearing is great. I know she was devastated. I felt like somebody called my baby ugly.

 

What now?

Ok, so this time I was trying to cut an apple and I dropped the knife on my toe and. . .just kidding! Seriously, I just had an ingrown toenail removed. Nothing too exciting, but you know I love a bandaged appendage.

So moving on to other painful things–our annual-maybe this is the year-trip to St. Louis. Last year the Shockers made it to the final game for the first time since 1981. And this year they looked so shiny and new at the beginning of the year; so full of promise and wins. They did finish second in the conference and went to St. Louis feeling optimistic. I even saw the coach in the elevator Thursday night, and fueled with my two vodka tonics, I knew I had to say something to him. So I said, “Coach, we’re still going to be here Sunday, right?” He said, “Yes we will. Will you?” Oh yes sir!

Well, that was not to be. We won our quarter final game Friday, but lost to the #3 seed Indiana State in the semi-final on Saturday. They just had no energy and couldn’t buy a basket. Four of the starters combined for a total of 6 points. Six points. You cannot win a game with a pitiful output like that. So we licked our wounds Saturday night and applied a little alcohol. By next March we’ll be rarin’ to go again.

We did get to have lunch with my cousin and his girlfriend, Debby, on Friday. Steve always takes us someplace new and interesting. This year we went to Schnuck’s Culinaria. I’ve heard about the famous Schnuck’s for years. It’s their grocery store. I just love the name; so fun to say. Well this new Schnuck’s downtown has a grill, deli/salad bar, pizza etc. area and it is hoppin’. Lots of the business people are coming in to get their lunch and head out or you can sit in their cool seating area upstairs. I had a chicken quesadilla with chiauaha cheese–to die for. Oh and the best part, Schnuck’s sells fiesta eggs!!! Don’t think I didn’t sneak a bag into the basketball arena.

So another fun weekend in St. Louis; no NCAA bid, but a good time just the same. Thanks Steve and Debby–we’ll do it again next year!

Big Game Feast

This past Saturday was our third annual-except for the year we forgot-Big Game Feast. Angie and Ordan were the hosts this year. Techically it’s not really big game, it’s the stuff our husbands shot. The guys cook the main dishes and we women folk provide the side dishes and desserts.

Here is an action shot of Ray cutting up pheasant.

Ordan grilling buck and doe.

Ray, Roger and Ordan. Not sure they’re actually doing anything here; just trying to look busy for the camera.

This year we had baked quail, deep fried pheasant, grilled doe and buck, smoked turkey, venison fajitas and taco meat, and duck stir fry (Bonnie made that, not one of the guys). Quite the variety. Everything was great and they are really getting this thing down. Maybe we should start doing this on a quarterly basis. I’m always looking for a way out of fixing dinner.

The hungry masses hitting the food line. There was too much food for the island; it continued onto the counter.

It’s always a good time with this group. There is always provocative conversation and sooooo much laughter. These people can always put a smile on my face. So thanks for another great dinner. Can’t wait until next year.

And this has nothing to do with the big game dinner, but I had to show this picture of me and Gnomie. I wanted to show off my new t-shirt. It says “Hanging with my Gnomies”. Get it?  Bwahahahahah! Isn’t she cute? You just want to put her little gnome self in your pocket and carry her around. Love her!

Woo hoo!

To quote the great Lionel Richie, “party, karamu, fiesta, forever”! That’s right, the fiesta eggs are out!!!! I was stopping at my local Dillons to buy something fairly nutritious and I was drawn like a moth to flame to the Easter candy aisle. I followed the beacon of light and found the elusive Brach’s Fiesta Eggs. Aaaahhhhh. I’m like a crackhead that finally got a fix (or so I imagine). I bought 2 bags today. I don’t know who I think I’m kidding. We all know I will be back multiple times. I should have just bought a dozen bags in this trip and I’d be set for the week. (That’s right. 12 bags would last a week. Don’t judge.)

Is it wrong that I talked to the bag on the drive home? I said, “Hello friend. It’s so good to see you again. Did you have a good year? I’m going to eat you now.” Damn these fiesta eggs, they are my kryptonite, my achilles heel, like sunlight to a vampire, I’m powerless. (Unless you’re one of those Twilight vampires and then I would just sparkle. I kinda like that analogy. I’m sparkling so much from these fiesta eggs, that I’m blinding people!)

Now I do have to say these are the pastel multi-colored fiesta eggs. They are different than the white eggs. A connoisseur knows the difference. There is a slight fruity aftertaste to the pastel eggs. Don’t get me wrong, I will eat the pastels. I will eat them until my tongue is raw. But if I had my preference it would be white eggs all the way. I’m not racist, but I likes what I like.