I figured this could be my costume this year. My other two really suck, so I'll be wearing this in my imagination, anyway.

Be safe! Get lots of great candy!!

My son got ahold of the digital camera last night and fired off about 300 shots of me, sitting in the chair in HDH's office. He snuck up on me with this one - AS YOU CAN SEE.

FRIDAY:

I complained all day Friday about going over to my neighbor's house. I had committed earlier in the month to a little get-together she was having, and had promised to bring a really marginal appetizer. She was hosting friends from out-of-town, and a few people I hadn't seen in a while would be there. The other purpose of this party was karoke. YOU CAN LAUGH, but my neighbor bought the whole get up - mic's and all (you know, DUETS!).

Yours truly did a Carpenters song ("Only Yesterday"). And after a few more glasses of wine, I did a pretty snazzy job at "At This Moment" by Billy Vera & The Beaters. I had no idea I knew the words to this song.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be (the party, that is). The ended evening with the Pointer Sisters and a bunch of drunk or slightly stupid, funny neighborhood (and not) ladies.

SATURDAY:

I had dinner out with HDHusband at a local, small Italian place. So small, really. We made reservations the night before, so our table was ready for us almost when we got there. A few couples had walked in without reservations, so had to wait for something to free up.

One couple in particular were AWFUL. They got a table, chewed out the hostess (who in turn pointed out they hadn't made reservations) and didn't smile ONCE throughout the dinner. Not even at each other. I called them the Downers. Seemed appropriate. I bet those are the people that complain WHEREVER they go. They'd find something wrong with Mother Teresa.

We also headed over to the new Tattered Cover and bought some GREAT books (I could spend FOREVER in there - love that place), and then to Twist and Shout - HDH picked up some CD's there. Including a Garbage CD that some ex pilfered from me years ago.

SUNDAY:

Watched my Broncos LOSE to the damn Colts. It was really a matter of who had the ball last (oh, and a matter of our defense STOPPING THEM). Didn't happen. I wept. Met my girlfriend for dinner last night with HDH went to a hockey game with a former resident.

TODAY:

Had sclerotherapy done on the spider veins on my legs. People, it took THREE TIMES to get the right compression hose for my stupid legs. I'm kicking the sweet thigh high Juzo stockings now. The procedure itself wasn't too bad. Not overly comfortable (as shooting saline into veins can be).

So, my legs will be HOT SEX for the summer. I hate wearing shorts. Maybe this will make it a bit better for me. WOOOOOT. Vanity, it's something else.

That's it from HDW Land. Nothing overly exciting!!

Song Of the Day: STUPID GIRL by Garbage

When you live in a small town, a person dies and the town shuts down. Everyone knows everyone. It's usually everyone knowing everyone's business. I remember once a kid in my class getting pulled over on his way to school and we had heard about it before he got to school to tell us. People truly love to talk.

But - when it's a death, it's entirely different. You treasure and embrace that love and support.

When my dad died, I found out he had the morning after. I remember pulling into our driveway that afternoon, and there were cars parked from one end to the other. Nobody meddling. Nobody wanting the details of the heart attack or where it happened in the house. They were helping.

I remember one woman saying, "I can't cook with a darn, but I can sew - so if you need buttons reattached or hems fixed, you call me". Another had made my brother and I a 'gift tree' - we'd get something new off this mini tree every day, and there would be a scripture verse attached to help us through that day.

They were our CHURCH family. They were the people who had watched us grow up. They had taught us Sunday School, listened patiently as we stumbled through yet another Christmas program, sent cards on days we didn't attend church. (I still have cards Pearl sent me, expressing her "prayers and love" that my sore throat would be gone soon. They had missed me during Sunday School. )

These were the people, arms outstretched, giving all the love they knew to give. I think back on it now, and I know how lucky we were. We didn't doubt that they wouldn't be there for us. They were the extended family, and we to them.

A year after my dad died, a little ten-year-old boy from my church got lost in a blizzard. He was trying to go from the barn to a house, and ended up three miles away. Andy died the next morning. His grandparents were staple members of our church community; incredibly loving and generous people. It broke your heart to watch them hurt so badly. I'd watch Andy grow up. I can still - ten years later - hear Andy yelling after his older sister in the church hallway. You hurt for them and with them. And ten years later, you still send them a card and tell them you remember. How can you not?

Today, I got news again of another death in my church community (the second in two weeks). A two-car accident. Her husband survived, she didn't. Two sons, one currently serving in Iraq. Her parents were another again a pillar couple of my church. They were at my house, casseroles in hand, trying to help however they could. Her husband (the woman that died, this was her dad) was shoveling our driveway for months after dad died.

It's a sense of community I miss, really.

I look at my street and I think, "Damn, how shallow can some of these people be!" I've told some stories on here of the superficial crap that goes on. I've told others the in-depth stories of the crap that continues to go on. It's more and more apparent to me how many people miss the 'big picture' in the world. Looking past these small and petty issues to see what really is big and important in their lives right now.

It's not about getting into the country club, not the car you drive, and certainly not the money in the bank.

In the end, it's about those people you love: your family, your friends.

Isn't that all that matters, really?

"How easily we get trapped in that which is not essential - in looking good, winning at competition, gathering power and wealth - when simply being alive is a gift beyond measure". ~ Parker J Palmer

Love Thursday strikes yet again ...



"Dragon tales and the "water is wide"
Pirate's sail and lost boys fly
Fish bite moonbeams every night
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

The rocket racer's all tuckered out
Superman's in pajamas on the couch
Goodnight moon, we'll find the mouse
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed
Sweet dreams

God bless mommy and match box cars
God bless dad and thanks for the stars
God hears "Amen," wherever we are
And I love you ..."

(Dixie Chicks)

My friend, ElJefe, has managed to grow a 360 lb pumpkin this year.

He has been growing these bad boys for a few years, but this one took off and took over, actually, his entire garden. It seriously ate up strawberries and raspberries, and the flowers.

ElJefe was featured in his local paper this morning. Front page and everything. He said he called the paper to find out if there was a contest, they said no, but asked how big his was. Cue reporter and photographer to his house yesterday afternoon.

In order to grow a pumpkin this freaking massive, he started with two seeds online that cost him $14 bucks total. He cut the smaller one when the growth started. He added zinc and iron every 10 days, and The Monster (as he calls it) took in 30-40 gallons of water per week. The pumpkin gained TEN POUNDS a day.

Seriously.

The record in Colorado is 1,011 lbs and the national record is 1,500. And knowing my friend, he will be trying yet again to beat the state record.

He said the photographer (woman) came out to see the pumpkin and said, "Oh my! It's so BIG and HARD!" - and he said, "Let's keep this about the pumpkin, shall we?".

The dork.

Mr Vholes: damnit
Mr Vholes: somebody already registered turdburglar.com
HDW: oh the horror
Mr Vholes: OH MY GOD
Mr Vholes: do NOT try to see whether fudgepackers.com is taken
HDW: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA
HDW: see, now - THIS conversation would be fun to blog.
Mr Vholes: fartknockers.com doesn't appear to be taken
HDW: and what would one DO with fartknockers?
Mr Vholes: but fuckface.com is
Mr Vholes: I'd make it my business address
Mr Vholes: too bad
Mr Vholes: putz.com is taken
HDW: I think my ex boyfriend owns that one
Mr Vholes: cheesedick.com has been taken too
Mr Vholes: I'm late to this party

And not just ANY Grandma!

This would be The Grandma that sent me this jacket to wear (she wore it in the 90's, she said, but she swore it was something I had said I wanted. Probably to be nice, but who cares, right?).

She is my Love Thursday.

She is a kick in the pants.

I was speaking with her last night on the phone about all sorts of things, and thought, "You know, I should ask her if she has any advice to give - anything sage wisdom to pass along". She's fast approaching 80 and full of piss and vinegar.

People, this is honestly what she said:

"I'd tell you to either SHOW'EM or BLOW'EM! That's important."

Seriously.

That was her advice.

Someday you'll thank me for these life-changing words from my grandma.

Her other pearl of wisdom (when told by me that she didn't give herself enough 'credit' with things) was: "HDW, I am only a step away from ignorance!"

Classic Grandma.

She makes me laugh. She pisses me off. She taught me to flip the bird and has the best one-liner's of anyone I know.

About The Photo: My Grandma with my mom, circa 1947. They lived on a farm, no running water and used an outhouse. She was still rockin' it then. She'd hate, too, that I used this photo.

So, if you care to see her 'real time', click here and you'll be whisked away to see my grandma. They owned a gift gallery in Texas. That's my grandma and grandpa, me and a guy representing Lladro.

Handsy guy, that one.

Happy Hump Day, if you will.

It snowed last yesterday at the HDHousehold! I threw some photos up on Flickr if you're interested in seeing the white stuff.

I also spent the morning helping out my RedneckBrother who managed to lose the keys to his pickup truck somewhere in the shit-hole he calls his house. Being the nice sister I am (moreover, new a storm was coming in and wasn't keen on my nephew walking a long way home from school in said snow), I drove over with HDToddler to pick my brother up.

He got the keys remade, managed to fuck up and bring the guy at the dealership the registration for his '78 fishing boat. He told me he thought his "human instinct" told him the remade keys wouldn't work. They did. I told him his "human instinct" maybe needs to lay off the weed. He also told me a story about his boat, the trailer and a tire that flew off. I love him, but man, he doesn't really have a whole lot to work with up there.

You know, call it my "human instinct".

We have a friend who delivers part-time for ACertainDeliveryCompanyThatWeAllKnow. He was over to the house last week and brought a long a copy of a complaint letter a customer had filed (not related to him directly).

The Crazy Letter Writers apparently were peeved that said company was delivering packages to them. They called it 'trespassing' - and they said 'trespassing' in the letter at least 15 times.

Hmmm.

So, let me get this straight:

You order something - maybe in their case, a Dictionary (seriously, bad, bad spelling all over the board).

And the folks sending the book to you uses this delivery company. And when they come to ring your bill, you are pissed? You threaten no more contact with said company, for deliveries or otherwise? (and what's otherwise? Like do they come up to your door just to chat? My delivery guy drops our shit off and runs for his truck. It could be my makeup-less face or my crazy stay-at-home-mom-look, but still, he runs).

Makes sense. The trespassing and all. (coughcrazyasheyullcough)

But the kicker was how they signed the letter.

Not "Sincerely". Nooooooooooooo! How silly!! That would be too professional and we can't have that!

It was signed "With extreme irritation and total damnation".

You've gotta be pretty pissed off if you have to sign a letter that way. From now on, I'm using that in every greeting, every Christmas letter, every birthday card - everything.

With extreme irritation and total damnation,
HotDoctorWife, Esq.

It isn't so bad!!

My husband proposed to be on Friday the 13th, actually. People do the usual "What was he THINKING??" and "You're doomed!" act, but when you know the whole story, it's quite special, really.

You see, when we were dating, his mother was dying. He had booked a plane ticket for me to come out that Easter weekend, figuring it would be the last one his mom would be here for. In HDHusband's grand scheme, he had me flying in on Good Friday, he would take me for dinner at a special place there in Portland, propose, and then we'd have Easter dinner with his mom the next day.

In the meantime, I was talking to his mom on the phone about the upcoming trip, and she said, "Oh, and I'm just so happy he bought you a ring!" ... and you heard my husband grab the phone and start hemming and hawing a bit. I pretended I hadn't heard anything, of course.

But, as the hand would play out, his mom passed away on Maundy Thursday. I still had a ticket to fly to him in Portland the next day. I remember landing, running up to him and hugging him. He'd just lost his mom. It was heartbreaking. And having already lost my closest parent, I knew how bad it felt.

We drove to his childhood home, pulled in the driveway and he unloaded my bags. He told me to sit in the chair in the living, so I did. He then got on one knee, and told me everything important in his life and happened in this house. He'd been raised here, learned to play basketball, grew up with his sister, learned from his parents here. He wanted one last 'important' thing to happen before they sold the house.

And he proposed.

And it went on the wrong finger.

But this was okay!

It's been repeated that he proposed AT his mother's funeral, and a certain ex-girlfriend was pretty horrified by that notion. But it turns out - it had been planned, just not in that way. His mother had tried on the ring and gave her blessing to him. A dying mother, offering her support and love to her only son.

Friday the 13th isn't such a bad day for me.

We spent the afternoon at the Fall Festival this past weekend. My son picked out his pumpkin from the patch, and this is a photo taken inside the tee-pee. He doles out the love, is a sensitive and sweet little (big) boy. I can hardly believe I'm looking for preschools and imagining a day when he's not little like this anymore.

My husband chides me and says, "But he's not your baby anymore!". He always will be - always. As big as he gets, as far away as he goes, he will always be my baby.

"A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mother the longest". ~ Irish Proverb

My husband left me a message this morning.

"I lost my wedding band down an elevator shaft".

Apparently, after changing back into his suit (out of the scrubs), the ring came off or something and rolled down the elevator shaft. It sent me into fits of laughter.

Secondly, looked at another preschool this morning. Some things to note:

1. The lady next to me stunk BAD. Ever hear of washing yourself? Just curious. It's a new trend; it's called SOAP.

2. When the Director of Admissions tells you to turn off your cell phones or put them on vibrate as not to disturb the kids, DO IT. And after it rings the FIRST time out of FIVE TIMES, get a fucking clue already.

3. To the little girl who came up during her class and shook my hand and told me all about her dad going to Europe, how she's 4 now, and something about a pig? You were too sweet for words.

This preschool tour thing? ARRRRRRRRGH! My god. It shouldn't be this stressful!

I need your advice.

If you're playing catch-up, you'll want to read:

the letter to the ex-girlfriend

this encounter at the airport recently

GoliathExGirlfriend* was gone to France for most of September. It was quite nice, really. Some peace and quiet in the neighborhood and at work (remember, she moved in to our 'hood and switched jobs to be working near HDHusband).

We came home Sunday night to an email from her, with all sorts of stories about her trip to France, complete with photos. Looks like she went on some cooking tour, worked at a vineyard (in a really nasty outfit - who wears a beach skirt wrap, tshirt, black baseball hat and black Born clogs??).

Here's where HDH and I see things quite differently:

HDH says: "She only sent me that email because she knows I like wine and I like to cook".

HDW says: "Thinking back to my boyfriend six years ago, I know he might like one place we went skiing at. I'm not about to take a bunch of photos of Park City and send them to him, six years later. I could give a donkey's dick what he's doing these days."


HDW says: "She obviously is still infatuated with you. She might think she has a chance with you, but she's determined to show you how worldly she is now".

HDH says: "You've got to be kidding me."


HDW says: "Hey, if she sends you a bunch of emails describing the stupid shit she's doing in her life, and sending photos, we should be able to do the same. We should be able to write up an email about our recent family trip to the pumpkin patch, send it to our friends, throw her on the list like she does us, and include some photos of the happy family. I bet that shit would make her stop."

HDH says: "Well, HDW, revenge is a life lived well. We have everything she doesn't have - a spouse, a child. As far as I'm concerned, she's just making herself miserable."

HDW says: "Yes, but isn't it time we stand up to her? Six years later, she thinks she's getting somewhere with you."


So, what opinion of our very own Femme Folle do you have? What would you do?

* and I say GoliathEx for a good reason. For those of you who saw the photos, you'll get the reference now. She-Ra!!!

BATTLE OF THE ALBUM COVERS

Pretty cool, actually.

Happy Monday everyone.

Meh.

The Weekend In Review:

1. Got a bill from our landscaping company. We had some trees put in the backyard to create more of a barrier between us and the folks in the barrio. The contract was for one amount. The bill was for $4,000 more. I called and left a (kind of) grumpy message. The last billing cycle, they rebilled us for something we'd already paid for.

2. I went to see the play Amadeus with my girlfriend. It's been a long time since I've seen anything but a musical. I remember being in theater, and I thought musicals were easy and these kinds of plays were the hardest. My only complaint would be to the gentlemen next to me who kept burping up his dinner throughout the play and making me gag.

3. Took HDToddler to The Circus on Saturday night. Apparently, I wasn't really paying attention to where the seats were ... but we ended up on the front-fucking-ROW. My kid gave me his 'nuk' and started walking out towards the elephants during the show. Didn't quite get IN the ring. We left not long after that. And after he kicked over my soda, causing The Flood of the Night under our seats, probably pissing off everyone around us.

4. Instead of going up to the mountains to see the last of the colors change, we opted to go to the Fall Festival and pick out a "cumpkin" for HDT. He stomped around in the hay, got to pet a horse, checked out a goat and some chickens ("bak, bak!!") and had a cookie. Not too shabby.

5. The guy at lunch on Sunday shorted me the chips we ordered, but did this creepy 'touching of my hand' when he gave me the change. Ack.

6. Most importantly, an email from GOLIATHEXGIRLFRIEND. She has sent photos of herself in France. I'm thinking, you know, it's time to even out the playing field. I'm starting to find the idea of sending HER emails of OUR FAMILY in good taste. Only seems fair.

We're going out to eat tonight. Leaving HDT in capable hands of the babysitter. I am going to drink. A lot.

And tomorrow night, I will hope my Denver Bronco's don't get completely wasted by the Ravens. Sigh.

Back to the drinking ...

Okay.

The recipe I made for my husband this past week!!

"Penne pasta w/ Oyster mushrooms, prosciutto, and Mint"

(substitute button or cremini mushrooms if you need to)

1 tbsp. salt plus 1 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 lb penne pasta
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 lb oyster mushrooms, sliced, tough stems removed
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 c. chicken broth
1 c. grated fontina cheese
1/2 c. chopped mint
2 slices prosicutto, chopped
freshly ground pepper

1. Bring large pot of water to boil. Add 1 tbsp. salt and penne. Cook until barely tender to bite. Drain, set aside.

2. In the same pot (or not, like I care or did) heat olive oil over high heat. Add mushrooms and remaining tsp of salt and cook, stirring constantly, until mushrooms stop giving off liquid and start to brown, about 10 minutes. Turn heat to med-high and add garlic. Cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Stir in chicken broth and penne and cook until broth is absorbed. Stir in cheese until melted and coating pasta. Take off heat and stir in mint. Top with prosciutto and pepper.

Serve right away or little midgets will throw hammers at you and call you dirty names.

It's LOVE THURSDAY!

This is a photo taken of my dad and I one summer, early 1980's. I remember this day being a big deal because it was during wheat harvest. He took some time off to go to the pool with the family - which really never happened. But because it was important to his daughter, he did. This was a theme in my dad's life. Taking care of others. Being kind and gentle, strong and faithful.

I remember this day.
I remember him this way.

My dad's birthday is this weekend. He would have been 61 this year. He left us all too soon at 49.

"I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

Stephan Grellet
Quaker Missionary

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love and miss you. I think of you every day. I talk to you and I believe your heart hears every word I say.

If you've read any of the Stephanie Plum novels, you'll know the Grandma Mazur character. THIS is my grandma. She's fiesty. She's wild. She's mouthy. She smokes like a freight train and spends her time volunteering for the church, but complains because the church ladies 'bother her too much'. She also is famous for leaving her pack of Winston Salems on the front pew of the church.

My grandma will talk to you on the phone while doing 'her business'. Or as she might say, "taking a healthy". My grandma was never the one to bake cookies and knit. Nope. My grandma was the one that watched soap operas, taught you to curse right, didn't balk at letting you watch a PG-13 or R rated movie, bought a bunch of sweet candy, let you drink your weight in soda, ordered take out, let you put on her nice red lipstick, taught you how to properly flip off someone, and bought you your first Barbie Doll and bikini, even when her daughter to her not to.

In short: My grandma kicks major ass.

But, grandma has never been good at gauging your size or your style of clothing. Ever. She was such a snappy dresser for many years. She'd shower herself in Eternity perfume and take her fake-nailed self out on the town.

The woman is hit or miss with gifts. One year, I got a pair of orange leather gloves about two sizes too small for Christmas. Another year, she'd buy Beautiful perfume by Estee Lauder and a makeup kit and redeem herself.

She called last week to tell me she was sending a package with some clothes she'd taken out of her closet, some she could see me in and thought I'd like. Now, I could just tell grandma I'm not interested, but this would hurt her feelings. She loves doing things like this, and sometimes, she throws in a piece of jewelry she just doesn't want anymore (and man she has some great ones). I told her to send it, and folks, I opened it up about 20 minutes ago.

Inside:

1. Cool photo of World Trade Center Towers she bought (with a handwritten note on the back, of course)
2. Bambi 2 DVD for HDToddler
3. A sampler of nuts
4. Two books she's read (that looks pretty good, actually)
5. And then the clothes ....

We have a lot of thing I can't explain. Mostly (and I mean this seriously) FOUR SIZES too big for me. A lot of coral orange/burnt umber. A gray jumpsuit dress thing. A few really older lady kind of outfits. Mostly things not fit for a 30-year-old who just bought a pair of jeans that accentuates 'le booty' ....

But my favorite of all??

Behold the SEQUINED, zip-up, yet REVERSIBLE jacket:

SEE THE HOTNESS RIGHT HERE BECAUSE BLOGGER WON'T LET ME UPLOAD

I haven't stopped giggling. In fact, I'm a bit light headed. The clothes all smell like her, though. Winston's and Eternity perfume.

So THIS is why I will keep all these crazy outfits. Not because I'd ever be caught dead in them, or that they would even fit, but so that I will be able to revisit my awesome grandma again someday.

Truly and honestly, one of a kind.

I made dinner.

I made something I found out of a magazine.

I drove around to three stores to get the right kind of mushrooms.

It took me all of about 30 minutes to make and I didn't curse one single time.

My husband (the serious cook) came home.

I (the farm girl who can make casseroles) presented him with a new dish.

He said (and I quote): "This is as good as anything I've ever made. Seriously, it's restaurant grade."

That was HUGE. I made him repeat it twice and say it looking me in the eyes.

So, go ahead, folks. Look for the rest of the Horsemen.

They're a-comin'.

Seriously.

My most favoritest time of the year, ever. I'm not a huge summer fan. I hate shorts and I hate my legs, so any weather that brings out the sweaters and long pants and boots?

And football ... and homemade chili ... and the smell of wood burning in a fireplace somewhere ...

I'm so happy!

Do you hear that???

ME NEITHER!

Our house is relatively back to normal after having a very, very lonnnnnng week. You know, plumbing mishap, washing machine mishap, drunk college friend mishap ... it was time to get everything back to quiet again.

Our last hurrah was the excursion to the Great American Beer Festival last night. We showed up to get our tickets at Will Call, and the line to just get IN wrapped around the covention center at least half-way around the building. And the line was at the very least twenty people wide. Insanity. Tried a lot of different beers (blueberry, even!) - but they were running out and most tables were left with stouts only. More imporantly, saw a bunch of drunk college kids dropping their glasses and the boys grabbing girl's asses. Eh. We left after about an hour and half and went to a Mexican place on Broadway. Nice.

Anyway, a shot of me and the ELUSIVE HDHusband at the BoozeFest:



This morning, HDHusband took DrunkCollegeFriend to the airport and HDToddler and I stayed back to decompress a bit. HDHusband tried to get out of going to a friend's 2-year-old birthday party at noon today ("It's a chick conspiracy! No one schedules a party during football season!!"), but I reminded him about how PUT-OUT his wife had been this week:

1. waiting for plumber for TWO DAYS
2. waiting for repairman for washing machine for ONE DAY
3. entertaining HIS COLLEGE BEST FRIEND for SIX DAYS
4. cleaning up after THREE BOYS for SIX DAYS
5. not being able to go braless for SIX DAYS in my own home
6. driving all over creation for SIX DAYS
BONUS: missing TWO pedicure appt's.. So not cool.

I could go on and on.

Point being, HDHusband felt guilty, bucked up and went to the toddler birthday party. Of course, our son had the major meltdown and we left right after cake.

It's quiet NOW in the house. HDH is at the health club. HDT is asleep.

And I have no bra on!!

Suh-weet!

EDIT: I did burn my hand making blueberry pancakes this morning. Second-degree burn, too. Lovely.