On my way home today I was talking to my 8 and 9 year old. I asked them what I had told them about Friday morning.
Daughter (8 years old): We need to be ready to go before you get home from work. Shack is getting his nuts chopped off......... Where are his nuts? Are those the things that hang off his butt.
Me: Trying to not bust out laughing and drive off the road and listening to both children.
Son(9 years old): Yes those are them.
Daughter: How would you know?
Son: Because I am a boy and have them so I know what they look like.
Daughter: Yeah but your not a cat.
Son: So they all look about the same. Daddy even has some.
(By this time I am am laughing at them)
Me: Yes those are what they are.
Out of the mouths of my children everyone. What can I say. My daughter has a potty mouth. I can't believe I just shared that but it was just to funny.
I think it is time to get a new template for my blog. I do like the one I've got but it is getting a lil tiresome to look at all the time. So if anyone would be willing to create a new one from scatch for about $30 let me know. Just leave me a comment and I will contact you. Thanks.
As a child I can remember Christmas Eve we would go and look at the Christmas Lights. There was this one house and the front and backyard ended on a cul-da-sack so both parts of the yard was visible from the street. They would decorate it all. Full of lights and it would make you feel all warm and fuzzy. We would also go to Downtown Denver and see the city and county building. It would never fail that everyone would be down there and it would be impossible to park anywhere so we would end up circling the build two or three times to see if the stolen baby Jesus had reappeared because inevitably every year someone found a way to steel it. After the light viewing session we would go home and get ready to go to the midnight candle light service at church. I miss going to the service and spending time with my family. Even though I feel odd around them in recent years I still miss those times. Wish I could be there for Christmas this year.
I love the peanuts gang so when I saw this lil test I couldn't resist
Your Score: Linus
Wishy-Washy: 59%, Mental: 50%, Physical: 68%
With the outside world being such a big and scary place, everyone needs a source of comfort and security. For Linus this is his blanket - even though Lucy and his grandmother try and break him of the habit. He has an unparalleled knowledge of the Bible and has managed Charlie Brown's baseball team on occasion. When Halloween comes around, make sure your pumpkin patch is sincere.
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on wishywashystuff You scored higher than 99% on brainstuff You scored higher than 99% on physicalstuff
I just thought I would share these lil factoids with everyone. I love this kind of information.
Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.
Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water..
Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying. It's raining cats and dogs.
There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house.. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.
The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, Dirt poor. The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance way. Hence the saying a thresh hold. (Getting quite an education, aren't you?)
In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old..
Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and chew the fat.. Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.
Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust. Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a wake.
England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, saved by the bell or was considered a ..dead ringer..
And that's the truth...Now, whoever said History was boring ! ! !
I took these in Oklahoma City. A lot of people lost power. Thankfully I am one of the very few that never lost power. Someone up there loves me and my family.
As we begin the holiday season, I thought you might appreciate this poem from a Marine.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE, IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE, AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE, NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE. NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND, ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS, A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY, I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE, CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER, NOT HOW I PICTURED A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.
WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ? CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED? I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT, OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.
SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY, AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR, BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE, ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME. THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE, I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY.
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE, "SANTA DON'T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE; I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE, MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."
THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP, I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP. I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT, THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE, WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE." ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT. "MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan. Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
Once again I am blogging from work. I am soooooofreekin bored I don't know what to do with myself. I have checked my four e-mail accounts at least 4 times each. Checked my Myspace to many times to count and I am now writing a post about being bored. The upside to this is that at this time tomorrow I am going to be so drunk from the hubby's Christmas Party that I won't be that bored. Woo Hoo to free alcohol!!!!! Pictures to come because the hubby was told to bring the camera because everyone really liked the pics we (more like I) took. Though it isn't formal this year. Thank goodness.
I was searching google as I love to do to get pics for a post. I was going to complain about having to work two six day weeks. That is as many hours as my manager is required to work. Over 50 hours in a week. I dont mind working the extra days because the money is good but darnit I had plans. Well I still have plans but I'm going to be to tired to enjoy it!!! Then I found this picture. WTF is it? Square watermellons? That is just plain weird.
My parents told me about Mr. Common Sense early in my life and told me I would do well to call on him when making decisions. It seems he was always around in my early years but less and less as time passed by. Today I read his obituary. Please join me for a moment of silence in remembrance. For Common Sense had served us all so well for so many generations.
Obituary Common Sense
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Aspirin, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a student; but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't legally defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm a Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Name: Audi Home: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, United States About Me: I was born in Colorado. Lived in Greeley until 2001 and moved to Oklahoma (yes of all places.) I tell people that my car broke down here and I haven't gotten the money to get it fixed. People actually believe me. I miss home but going there every once in a while cures me of that and reminds me of why I left. Though most of my good friends are still there. With the exception of one. She also thought leaving would be a great idea. Though why she left for Washington State is beyond me. Love yah Megs. I also have two wonderful children and a husband that could be counted as a third but I love him too. With them, work and life I just can't seem to keep up, though some how I seem to do a pretty good job at it. See my complete profile
