It might have been a “box set”, but I doubt it had anything to do with brothers. 'Tis the gift that keeps on giving, although a good checkup and maybe some antibiotics will clear that right up.
Rue we have one of those clicky things to use as we herd people in but I couldn’t find it yesterday, so I had to stand in the back of the church and count. Lucky for me the Baptismal Font is in the back and on a raised platform so I can stand and kinda see over everybody while I’m counting. Then I had to go and count the humanlets in the nursery cause they count too. I got to see my little buddy in the nursery. He’s three and knows how to spell his first name. He spells it for me every time I see him. AWWWWWW! There’s some more cuteness for welby. Only that can’t count as kick an innocent animal cute since it’s from a three year old and three year olds are allowed unlimited cuteness. It’s a rule.
Puggy ACBG was aiming on gettin’ into the pants I put on after I got out of the bath tub. He did. 
Bookkeeper what the heck are partridge berries. If there’s such a thing as partridge berries why do partridges sit in pear trees instead of partridge berry trees or bushes so’s they can eat partridge berries? It’d make more sense. The song wouldn’t be as good though, I guess. I mean “and a partridge in a partridge berry tree (or bush)” just don’t sound right.
ACBG went to church with me yesterday. I forgot to mention that. He’s Presbyterian. He said we move around too much. Then we went to eat at this local all you can eat buffet place that we named “The Hawg Trough.”
Next time save yourself some time & effort and skip the putting on the pants part. Unless you did a special strip to get out of the pants - ya know, to add to the seductiveness? Or maybe they were bright pink hot pants, and you wanted CGBG to have that extra incentive to get you out of them - like a low level threat? “Treat me nice or I put on the matching poncho?”
I also love the idea of you standing in the back of the church with the clicker thing. Don’t know why - it’s just amusing to me.
I was in church Saturday - no, I didn’t get my days confused - it was my sweet little niece’s baptism. She is so adorable! Not that I don’t love my two nephews, but I’ve been dying for a niece! My sister practically begged me not to give pink outfits for a gift - so I didn’t. I gave my niece a pretty purple dress & long-sleeve shirt set - and my sister got a pink sweater, 'cause it’s her birthday on Wednesday.
My dad thinks that my cousins should throw my sister a party in a few months - 'cause she’ll be 33 1/3 - which is 1/3 of a century! That’s my dad - he’s a math guy. His dad was a math teacher - and a tennis coach. There’s actually memorial tennis courts for my grandfather in Connecticut, which is pretty cool.
Anyway, back to niece’s christening - it was in Boston, which is where I went to school; I kinda miss it. Hopefully I’ll eventually make my way back up there - I’m moving slowly north with my jobs - so by the time I’m 40 maybe I’ll have made it up to Maine! Anyway, a lot of my cousins live in Boston and it would be so much fun to get back there - we wandered the city a bit on Sunday, and I felt so homesick. We also had chocolate dipped fruit which made me happy, and I got to see a sea-lion show at the aquarium which was very fun. And we all watched the game (you know which game, I don’t have to say it) on Saturday night. Fun weekend for all.
Now I’m back at work. And working. Which would seem to be a good combination.
Susan
The standard gift that my daughter gives her grandpa every year is a bag of Werther’s Originals. She’ll give him another gift, too, but always the bag of Werther’s. Similar deal for Grandma, but she always gets a big calendar. And being good grandparents, they ooh and aah and hug her a bunch and stuff.
Last year’s head scratcher was the gift FROM my inlaws to my husband. They gave him a ball cap and a sleeve of golf balls. He’s played golf exactly once in his life, and that was with his dad about 6 years ago. He’s never worn a ball cap that I know of. He wears other hats, but not a ball cap. He was truly perplexed. Kinda like I was the year they gave me a rotisserie. I’ve never used one. I’ve never expressed the desire to try one. I’ve never plugged this one in - in fact, I’m not sure I have all the pieces to it any more. I’m thinking they just picked out an appliance they knew I didn’t have.
I’m not very good at picking out gifts - I tend to be so doggone practical or boring and predictable. That’s why I’ve never sent gifts to any of you MMPers. I wouldn’t want to bore you. Because I’m nice.
I cut my finger yesterday on the brand new breakfast bar we installed which you can see at the bottom of this page.
OK, no more showing off my work. For now. 
My father always says that, too… he always told me that eating corn would put hair on my chest (I *detested * corn as a child). But in the end, he was right. My husband hugs me every day, now, and he’s got a very hairy chest. So everytime I feel that warm fuzz on my own chest, I think “That’s for eating all that corn.” Good call, Dad.
Is there a rule somewhere that says all Dads “of an age” have to be pains to shop for? My Dad does the same thing Rue’s dad does. If he needs it, he buys it. Annoying, that is. All it does is keep the tie manufacturers of the world in business. Them and the makers of “cute” coffee mugs.
Look, Dads…if you don’t want more CRAP, then let us get you something you can USE! A little cooperation would make Life so much easier on all of us.
Speaking of “cute” coffee mugs…you ought to see the one I’m going to lay on some poor sucker in the Great Doper Mug Exchange.
Aha! I have discovered an advantage to having an absent father–I never had to try to pick out a gift for him!
Mom isn’t that bad to buy gifts for, except that if you buy her something nice, she reminds you that you are to have it when she dies. A bit morbid, but that’s our family–no greedy heirs fighting over possessions, if you gave it to her, you get it back. As for things she didn’t get from one of us, she occasionally points out something and mentions who should get it (“I think J would really like the set of pansy plates, don’t you?” “That’s an art deco vase, you should have it since you’ve got the lamp.” etc.) She’s been doing this for, oh, thirty years or so, but to the best of my knowledge, she’s never given something to two different daughters!
I’m not feeling well, and chicken noodle soup isn’t as good when you have to make it yourself. I want to be curled up on my couch under a fuzzy blanket watching a movie and sipping something fizzy for my tummy. I need someone to pamper me. I want my very own ACBG (B=brawny in my case).
Don’t stop with the pics, fcm! We loves em! Everything looks like it’s really coming together at the old home place. I am very jealous you have a ceramic cooktop on your stove. I wants one bad!
Awwwww, poor kalley. I hope you feel better soon. Trust me, though, having possession of an ACBG, doesn’t guarantee you get pampered. The Klingon had one remedy for any of my ills and it wasn’t chicken soup. :mad:
If I have to have an upset tummy, the rest of you might as well have a headache–you’re gonna love this one!
After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skill, he had decided to call it a day.
Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer’s job. The bishop was incredulous. “You have no arms!”
“No matter,” said the man. “Observe!” And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo. But
suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.
As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, “Bishop, who was this man?”
“I don’t know his name,” the bishop sadly replied,
“BUT HIS FACE RINGS A BELL”…
WAIT! WAIT! There’s more…
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.
The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday.
I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty." The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief of this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.“What has happened? Who is the man?” the first monk asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know his name”, sighed the distraught bishop,
"but…
(…Wait for it…)
(…It’s worth it…)
HE’S A DEAD RINGER FOR HIS BROTHER."
:smack:
Wait a minute, Kalley, you’re supposed to have sore feet, not a sick stomach. I don’t think illnesseseses are allowed to gang up on you that way. Here is me pampering you right now. Real chicken soup, your favorite coloring book and a new biiig box of crayons. A soft quilt from Auntie Ashes and a warm kitty to chase your toes. Would you like me to bring your record player over next to your bed so you can listen to your Winnie the Pooh records? I don’t like the song about heffalumps, but the one about bees is good.
Once you’ve gotten over the childhood stage of pampering, let me know and I’ll send in the brawny yet nurturing men who’ve inexplicably lost their shirts.
How did you know I have Winnie-the-Pooh albums? They’re lovely, very calming. Now I have to set up my turntable so I can listen to them again.
Can I have a magazine? Something tawdry and not worth buying, like People or US? When I was a kid, Mom got us comic books (Archie, Casper the Friendly ghost, Donald Duck, etc) when we were sick, so now I always want the adult equivalent.
My footsie aren’t sore at the moment because I woke up with the flu on Saturday and so didn’t go canvassing. I thought I was better yesterday, so I worked a shift on the phone bank, and today I woke up feeling ucky again. But I’ve come to work anyway, except I’m only staying four hours and I’m not canvassing. Why can’t I get sick when I’m not busy and can enjoy it without feeling guilty? 
Can I have a popsicle? Not cherry, orange. Or grape.
Here’s your popsicle, Kalley. It’s orange with grape spots.
I may have just broken the cuisinart doing something really stupid. I’m not bleeding, so that’s good, but I may have to replace the… the… the thing that holds all the stuff. The bowl? Anyway, it was dumb, so I’m not telling anyone how I broke it. I think the lock bit that holds the lid closed may have snapped off, so it won’t go unless I lean on it.
Maybe it still technically works, just not how it’s supposed to.
My Dad gets sketchbooks and candy. He draws and he likes candy. Outside of that, I have no idea what to get him, ever.
Mr. Lissar made dinner last night. It was grilled cheese. Tomorrow he’s going to learn to fry eggs the way I like them.
My dad was a lot like DadDeDay. If he wanted (or needed) something, he bought it. If he didn’t buy it, he didn’t really want it. But he was always politely enthusiastic. You know, the kind of thanks and hug you get as he puts the gift back under the tree, never to be seen again.
One year, we went through the same old thing. After Christmas, I mentioned to him how hard he was to buy for. He said, “But I left a hint. And nobody got it for me!” It turns out his idea of a hint was to leave a flyer for a golf package on the pile of junk mail/bills/miscellania that he kept on the corner of the kitchen counter. Somehow we were to poke around in his mail and notice it and divine that he really wanted it. I told him he needed to work on his hint-making skills.
This evening I built a fire in my kitchen fireplace. I haven’t built fires in any of the 4 fireplaces in my house and I’ve lived here for about 6 months, but I was just in the mood. It’s nice to know the 150 year old chimney draws well. The previous owner had vented a propane heater though it, so I was pretty sure it was sound. However, the wood in the shed was cedar (which is scrub brush around here) and it burns pretty quickly. And the grate thingy that holds the logs wasn’t big enough - the fireplace is 36" wide and 18" deep. I found the grate thingy out in a shed - it might fit one of the other fireplaces. It was nice to see the flames and hear the crackle of the fire.
StG
StG
I have a pink glass chicken, on a nest. It’s a dish really but it’s empty at the moment.
And horehound is the best hard candy.
Swampy, why do you wear pants in the tub ?:dubious:
How was the cruise? Did I miss the thread with pictures?
dwyr, I worry about you now. Horehound cannot be “the best hard candy” because it simply isn’t candy. It’s a mouth torment. I think if you squint it’s actually a medicine. One that doesn’t work, yet some odd sort of medicine. Maybe it’s supposed to cure the Vapours or some such. But it’s not candy AT ALL.
In a related note (bad things to put in your mouth): Soupo came home from school with a new shiney pack of gum yesterday. He also dropped the cat on his brother, but I don’t think the two occurances were directly related. It was "Icebreakers Gawd-Awfull… no, wait- it’s “Icebreakers (I got that part right) Cool Mint Gum”. He was very excited about it when he got home. It was for all the book-reading he’s been doing. Or something. I dunno, he just lives here.
He gets home from school and says “Look what I got, Dad!” and he holds out the sparkly blue pack of gum. There’s a minty miasma billowing off it. The dog went and hid under the couch. But he’s still happy with his gum. Until after dinner. That’s when he was allowed to crack it open and enjoy a stick. Bah! There was an actual blue cloud of mintness when he pulled the tab to open the foil wrapper. This could not end well. Underterred by the omenous eminations he stuck a stick of gum in his mouth. This gum was so bad a child couldn’t even stand it. A child who will eat “Mouth-Blasting Tongue-Dying Tropical Fruit Gushers” on purpose!
It was some bad gum.
Some of the best hard candies are:
Atomic Fireballs
(Do you remember “Bitty Bombs”? Like Atomic Fireballs, only bitty.)
Butter Rum LifeSavers
Rootbeer barrels
& other things I like.
-Rue. (not into horehound or mint)
FCM the kitchen is looking good! A bar in the kitchen? Talk about your hardcore alcoholics! HAH! I slay me!
Rue I think you should go to Soupo’s school and complain. They should give out packs of Juicy Fruit[sup]TM[/sup] or some other good gum for good reading or whatever it was he did. Icebreakers[sup]TM[/sup] ain’t no kid gum! Sheesh! They’re educators, so you’d think they’d know better. It’s best to take a stand now before they start handing out horehound candy. Obviously they don’t know any better down at the Soupo school.
Kalley AWWWWWW… sorry you don’t feel good. Here’s a nice fluffy pillow and some Ben and Jerry’s for ya. Ashes[sup]2[/sup] already offered to send over a brawny guy so if you don’t the one it’s her fault.
Ok, just to clear stuff up. It was a little cool around here Saturday night so after I got out of the bath tub I put on a pair of thin jersey material type lounging pants and a tshirt. Also a pair of socks just to complete the ensemble. ACBG and I watched a movie before beddy bye time. We watched “The Day After Tomorrow” which was kinda dumb but cool special effects with the storms and all. ACBG bought the DVD. He likes to buy DVDs. One thing I have discovered about him is he’ll watch just about any movie. I’m much more picky moviewise than him. However, I’ll watch any movie he buys cause it means I get to get all snuggly with him on the sofa. That’s fun!
picunurse I didn’t start a thread about my cruise. I also haven’t put up any pictures yet. ACBG is in charge of uploading pics and he ain’t done it yet. Blame him. It’s all his fault. Want I should punish him?
It looks fantastic! Particulary compared to the way it was. I love seeing your progress.
Now I want a new kitchen. I don’t want to change my cabinets, they are solid oak and beautiful, and just need refinishing. I need a new floor, a new sink, new wall color, new stove, new fridge, new microwave, new sliding glass door, new countertop… Pretty much new everything except the cabinets.
My Dad is also hard to buy for, he has too much junk already. I usually get him a gift certificate for an electronics store or something. He likes that. Interestingly, I don’t know what kind of candy he likes, he doesn’t seem to eat many sweets, mostly savory snacks from what I can tell by poking around his kitchen. That reminds me, his birthday is in two weeks.
The Faerie
Butter Rum Lifesavers are the bomb!
That is all.
I am reading Jean Auel’s The Shelters of Stone. It is hilarious. Her writing is very bad, and I don’t think she’s ever become acquainted with semi-colons. Or maybe she had a traumatic semi-colon related experience as a child. The lurid sex is great" " He probed her willing depths with his proud manhood.".
Bwahahaha!
Horehound candy is evil. It must die.