Is Less Really More?

I have a squirrel that runs back and forth on the fence of my back yard all day long. I told my grandaughter Gracie about him. I said, "What shall I name him?" She said, "How about Mr. Fluffy Tail?" Mr. Fluffy Tail it is.

This is my attempt at a shorter blog post.

Question: Would you rather read a post that blathers ON and ON and ON about something ridiculous, or would you rather read something equally ridiculous that doesn't take up your whole afternoon and just get it over with? Rest Assured, they both will waste your time.

Mr. Fluffy Tail is famous, and has adventures, (like kissing the femmininas) but you will never know, because of the short post.

Mommacita's Favorite Things Summer Issue

If Oprah gets away with this, so can I. And everyone in the audience gets free stuff. Whatever my favorite thing is, you, the audience will get it for free!

( Mommacita, you are dang impressive)

Favorite Summer Thing #1:

Ice

I know I know. You're thinking: Whoo Hoo Wee Hee big stinking deal. Ice. She likes ice. And because she promised me free presents of her favorite things, now I'm getting free ice. Everyone knows about ice. She's dumb. (just so we're on the same page here, nobody is getting anything free. That was fake) So anyway, I've just discovered ice. Really, truly, I've just discovered ice. I like ice. I like STORE bought ice in my beverages now. It's delish. And no one can take that away from me no matter how boring it is. Moving right along:

Favorite Summer thing #2:

This brush

This little number is Mac Brush #179, and it is big and fluffy and I am using it to put on this:

Summer Favorite Thing #3:

Don't see anything? That's because the picture I downloaded of Mac Leg Sheen is full of errors. and it won't do it's thing. But if you have pasty white legs just like mine, and have tried multiple self tanners (in an effort to remove the blinding glare in effort to show charity to your fellow man) and they streak or are THE WRONG COLOR even though you have exfoliated TWICE then this is for you. It even looks good on toes and feet (a problem area wouldn't you agree?). The brush enables a smooth and even color. (And applying it is like painting a picture for you art lovers out there) It washes off with soap and water, but will not stain your clothes. And best part? Instant gratification. As soon as you put it on, bingo. You are tan. It is loverly. I brush it on right above my boot, and so when I take off my boot, I have a boot farmer's tan.

Kidding. That's twice I've suckered you in this blog.

Summer Favorite Thing #4

Green Leaf Lettuce by these folks This bag o'lettuce is the best bag o'lettuce I have ever tried. I buy it at Costco, and it comes all washed and it tastes like lettuce, and the leaves are all separated and it's just the nicest bag 'o' lettuce a widow lady could ever want. I will warn: It is a BIG bag'o'lettuce. It takes up major space in the frig. BUT, You don't have to wash it in bleach water. That last comment was a jibjab at YOU Leigh who NEVER blogs. Oh you read everybody else's, but do you return the favor?

Summer Favorite Thing #5

Leigh's Belly. I saw it on SKYPE today. It's the cutes and it has a baby in it.

My blogs are too long. Don't lie, I've looked at the other blogs, and mine go on for ever and ever and it embarrasses me. I was also going to highlight grape tomatoes, because I'm really into those at the moment, and dark chocolate covered jojos (like oreos only better) from Trader Joes but I don't have the energy and I'm hungry now and my blogs always go too long. So all you summer lovers out there, all 4 of my readers, you go treat yourself to some of Mommacita's Summer Favorites. And think of me. Especially every time you have ice. Obviously, I'll take any attention I can get.

Mommacita and the Awful Terrible No Good Bad Day

Get this.

Today I stop at a Shell Station to purchase Shell Station stuff.

I'm inside the little shop that has the twinkies and honey roasted nuts. That's not what I bought. I'm paying. There are two creepy employees, just out of the penitentiary. You know the type, the kind with too many tats, shifty eyes, and sporatic facial hair.

Creepy Employee: Mahame?

Me:

Creepy Employee: Maaaahaaame?

Me: (Am I Mahame?) Yes?

Creepy Employee: You have a bug goin' down your shirt there. (eyes look at my shirt and what's in it and going down it (not that there's anything that great going on in my shirt (frankly, I have seen better days) but truth be told I felt somewhat conspicuous so maybe I imagined the part I just told you. Not that I wanted that to be happening, because believe me I did NOT. ))

Me: (look down. A sort of beetley type bug is headed down my cleavage along my sunglasses that are stuck there. Does Creepy Employee have this view? THAT was my first thought.)
Ack! Ack! Ewe! Ick! Ack! Ahh! Eeee! OOO! ACK! EWE! OUI! YIKES! COUGH! SPUTTER! SPIT!(jump jump dance hop wiggle shuffle jump stomp stomp) (I have just moved every possible body part in front of two ex cons.)

Creepy Employee: he he he he

I pay, I give him the wrong amount, he corrects me, I give him the right amount, I forget to get my change, I have to go back and get my change after I'm half way out the door, (I am DISTRACTED) Creepy Employee is still he-he-he-ing me. Yep. I'm hilarious Creepy Employee. I drive 30 minutes to my Mother in Law's House.

I run to the restroom to rest. As I am sitting there resting, pulling off a few squares of Charmin, I look at the floor and I see the same bug that went down my cleavage, frantically scuttling across the floor as fast as it can. That was one stressed bug that had been trapped in my top for the better part of an hour. And because of being confined to one particular spot, my bug smashing bootie foot (try as it might) could not stretch quite far enough to reach it. I could have fallen. Please do not visualize.

Today, I was thrice creeped out. Maybe even more

This post is true, and the saddest truest part is that no bugs were hurt in the making of this post.

Das Est Goot Fraus and Fralines

Tonight I had an activity with the 14 and 15 year old girls at church. I'm standing here before you, right now, admitting the truth. I was dragging my feet something awful. The activity was to go to the high school and watch the upper German classes put on "The Little Mermaid" all in German. Seriously? The girls were dying to go. You're with me right? Doesn't that activity sound like a root canal? I knew it was going to be hot in the Pantheon, I knew it was going to be drudgery, ridiculously boring, and especially since I didn't have a child in it (heck, I didn't even KNOW anybody in it) what on this big green earth was I thinking putting myself through "The Little Mermaid" in bad German by High School students? (Like it matters that it was bad German....)

So I took a very large water bottle and trudged off to the High School with the girls. The last thing I said to Glynnis, (my friend and the other leader) as the lights were going out, was: "Hey, maybe we can close our eyes and put on a fake smile and rest a little during this."

Well kids, color me pleasantly surprised. It was FUN. It was FUNNY. I laughed a LOT. Those teenagers were so clever, yet ridiculous, and although it was all in German, the costumes, sets, and props were full of sass o frass. This is a generation that was raised on DVD's, (it's all about influences baby) and although they incorporated the Hans Christian Anderson story, you could definitely see the Disney language breaking through. (Ursela's eels were my favorites. Two twin brothers played them...they were dressed in black tights and turtlenecks with their arms trapped in, and they had used black duct tape all over bike helmets to form eel snouts. They moved in unison... twin simpatico... so funny!)

I love the teenage mind, how fresh and silly and sassy it is. To see it tapped and pushed in a positive way was an absolute delight. Viva los Viva los Viva los TEENAGERS!!!! I hope Cold Play writes a song about funny German speaking teenagers and puts colorful special effects with the song and acts real cool when they sing it and advertises it on TV over and over and over again so everyone will download it. And I hope all funny German Speaking Teenagers get the royalties. That would be cool.

I went to Walmart to get more bags for my foot. When I walked in the greeter offered me a motorized shopping cart. I didn't even make eye contact. There were two carts sitting there. PLEEEEEENTY for everyone.

Two thoughts:

1. Do I look that pitiful?

2. If I start zipping around in one of those, I will see at least 10 people I know. (just like when you go to the store without showering or makeup.)

It's never fun to realize you fear being mocked in Walmart.

Free Time with Options

The Institute Class that I teach is out for the summer. Last week, at this very moment, I was hunkered down with books and scriptures and larning stuff. For the next few months, on Mondays, I'm free, I'm free, I'm free. On Monday and Tuesday morning at least. So I'm trying to decide what I might do with the extra time since I'm free I'm free I'm free.

Option #1:

Sleep. I wanted to put a great picture here, of a beautiful woman who looks exactly like me, with her hair splayed out all over the pillow in a cinderella fashion, long lashes brushing against the cheek of pinkish hue. However the only sleep pictures I could find I had to pay for. And I'm not paying for this blog to continue.

Option #2:

Learn more about these two.

OK. Settle down, I'm kidding. I was at the foot Dr. this morning and they were in a magazine. I had forgotten they existed. These two girls scare me. Now that I look at them starring at me from my blog, I'm questioning whether or not I want to taint my blogosphere with them. Someone give them a t-shirt, would you? And a mirror. And a makeup remover towelette. And some shampoo. And a comb. And a snack.

Option#3:

Continue my bulemic shopping for a Mother of the Groom Costume for the wedding. I buy, I return. I buy, I return. I buy, I return. I've done it with jackets, skirts, tanks, shoes, earrings, you name it, I've done it. I've purchased and regurgitated. Upstairs in my room I have two pairs of the exact same shoe. My dresser has 4 pairs of shoes on it, all auditioning themselves for me, as if they were in the shoe department of the store. Pick me! Pick me! I'm not sure if the internet and free shipping has made my life easier or more complicated.

Option #4:

Plant more purple flowers. There are zillions. They are multiplying at night when I sleep (looking like Cinderella with pinkish hue). Last week I wrapped my broken foot in a walmart bag and went out in the rain and planted almost 5 dozen. Didn't make a dent. Cue sad violins. Or white trash music. You choose. This is how I felt planting and dragging around the Walmart bag on my foot:

Option #5

Figure out how to tell the bride and groom that since seeing the foot Dr. this morning I found out I might be dragging my honkin' booty-cast and 1 really nice shoe (not sure which one yet, but it will be only one) to their wedding. If it rains, I may double bag. More white trash music. Crank up the volume. And hand me that pencil so I can black out my front tooth.

Think pinkish hue

P. S. I apologize for having the Olsen twins and Andrew Wyeth in the same blog post.

Bad Taste. In My Mouth.

This is not a funny blog. This is a mad as a hornet blog.

Today I went to a quilting class at a quilt shop that is not in my town. I bought all the fabric at said quilt shop. I bought a special ruler for the class at said quilt shop. I drove 40 miles to get to said quilt shop to attend the class. (Gas Money People, Gas Money). I paid 45 bucks for the class. There were 8 women there. That's 360 bones that Karen, quilt shop owner made just on the fee, not to mention the fabric everyone bought at her store........which would have been hundreds of dollars.

Karen collects money from everyone for lunch and takes orders and runs out to pick up lunch for everyone. Very nice of her I think. As I am eating my taco salad, (which was in a container that was almost as big as a 9x13 pan...I don't know why but it was) I hear her say: "No one is to throw any of their food garbage away in the store's garbage can. If you have food garbage (such as a 9x13 pan with taco salad drippings in it?) then you have to take it home with you and throw it away there. I don't have any garbage service here, and I'm not taking it home."

I rode up with my friend in her very nice Acura. I cringe and think: "What if my gooey garbage leaks in her nice car? I have no bag to put it in. So this 9x13 pan is just going to float around in her Acura with her 9x13 pan and we're just going to hope and pray that neither one of them tip over and get salsa or sour cream or goo on the carpet of her car? Sour cream will really stink up her car for good. Or wait. Maybe in order to save the interior of the car, I will have to HOLD the garbage on my lap for 40 miles, smelling it (after it has sat around for 4 hours) wrenching all the way home. It will leak on me now instead. I'm not so down with that idea. This is so very awkward. Is she serious? Tell me she's not serious."

After Karen's announcement, the room goes silent. Then I hear a timid voice behind me say "Are you SERIOUS?" I felt like applauding. Standing ovation even.

Apparently Karen was serious. She was having nothing to do with our garbage. Apparently it was more appropriate for us to bundle up our stinky lunch garbage that had been sitting in the sewing room with us for 4 HOURS and put it in our cars with us and drive 40 miles with it, so we would not burden The Speckled Hen with it. Heaven Forbid.

PEOPLE. What has happened to service? I'm serious here.

If The Speckled Hen were my quilt shop, and I was hosting 8 really nice women for the day, (8 really nice women that I had made a bunch of money off of) and my shop didn't have garbage service, then the 8 really nice and beautiful women would have been able to take throwing out their lunch trash for granted. I would have gone and gotten a garbage bag and filled it with every one's stinky lunch garbage and I would have put it in my own car to take to my own home rather than causing all that awkwardness and displeasure.

The customer is always right. Service with a Smile. What has happened to these values?

My heartfelt thanks go to Taco Bell, who let us throw away our trash when we went inside to purchase a beverage. I will return to Taco Bell for any future beverage purchases....again and again.

As to you Speckled Hen: you and I? We're done. Voting with my feet here.

Multifaceted Abnormal

First of all, that picture is not me. I do not have a camera. The person in the picture DOES have their pajama pants on. I could not, nor did I search for a person with their pajama pants off.

Digging a hole here. Please continue.

Last night I was laying in bed watching my 1 episode of Gilmore Girls that I allow myself each night. Lorelori and Rory are my multifaceted abnormal family, and we kiss each other good night every evening. Rory used the term multifaceted abnormal in this episode to describe Loreli, and, well, because of what had just happened, it got me thinking. I too, am living the multifaceted abnormal life. And this my friends and family, is a clear illustration of that fact:

I got out of bed to start writing this blog. That is wrong on so many levels, the first being I had no pajama pants on because earlier I got up to go get a drink, and when I came back to my bed and TV, I sat down on a tube of hydrocortosone cream that didn't quite have the lid snapped on. As a result I found myself wallowing around in a big ol' dollop of hydrocortsone cream.

Before this unfortunate event occurred, I was naively making sure that I was doing a very good job of sitting on the bed, fluffing pillows, squishing down into the mattress, and snuggling in. Unbeknownst to me, hydrocorozone creme had squirted all over the place. It made me laugh out loud. LOL as the kids are saying now days. I know it's not funny to you, but to me it was the equivalent of 50 clowns pouring out of a tiny car, which really isn't all that funny either, but it is all I can think of at the moment.

Anyway, the more I tried to clean it up, the more it was seeming to travel (a rear end is a very large vehicle) ...from the tube, to the side of the tube, to the sheets, to my pajamas, to the quilt, to my fingers, down my hand, and don't forget: in cases like this it is required to drop it on the carpet... This experience quickly turned into an episode of I Love Lucy. Abnormal, yes?

I think my rear end forced 1/2 of the hydrocortizone cream out of the tube, and that is not only a facet of abnormal, but a little humiliating as well. It was a brand new tube, (dag nab it to the power of 3). A brand new tube all over my jammiepants and sheets and hands and carpet and the rag I'm trying to sop it up with. This experience tends to make a girl feel like her rear end is the biggest, heaviest, most cumbersome item on the face of the earth. (OK, I concede, maybe not that abnormal.)

But, you know that moment that happens right before you actually do the stupid moment? I'm talking about the moment right when you are all innocent and in the dark, happily going along your merry way, thinking all is well, and nothing bad will ever happen to your tube of hydrocortizone cream.

And then boom. There you are with your brand new hydrocortosone tube all half empty with an indentation the size of your left bottom cheek on the lower half of the tube (and the contents of the tube are smearing around from here to eternity because you are one step behind on the direction the smear is choosing to go. Everything your buttock hits leaves a mark.)

Anyway. You know that "right before" moment? That "I'm in the dark" moment? There's something a little abnormal about that moment as well.

Because if you were the star of a movie, and the movie was about you sitting on an open tube of hydrocortizone cream, in the movie there would be suspenseful music playing to warn the people in the audience that harm was going to come to your new tube of hydrocortozone cream.

However you, the star of the movie, would not hear the music and would not pick up on the camera focusing on the innocent and extremely vulnerable hydrocortizone creme tube that happens to be slightly open.

And you, the star of this movie, wouldn't really be aware that the camera is focused on your pajama clad rear end, (wide angle lens needed) and you also wouldn't be aware that the focus of the camera is showing your rear end slowing descending, inch by precious inch on the helpless tube. You, as the star, would be TOTALLY CLUELESS as to the danger that awaits.

Don't you find this abnormal as well? Isn't it abnormal that we aren't aware of the danger, that we can't hear the music, that we don't pick up on the clues? I mean, we're in the room for gosh sakes. We're right there. Right next to it. How is it that we don't pay attention?

In my blog, all roads lead to Tim. (Is that yet another facet of abnormal?...told you I was multifaceted).

Tim didn't complain that much to me about any of the stupid things I did, but I know it drove him nuts when I didn't make sure lids were on tight. Last night I think ol Timmy boy had a very very large goodtime laugh, and he probably ran and turned the suspenseful warning music down as low as it would go, just to make absolutely sure that no one would ever EVER have a chance of hearing it. And then he propped his feet up on his little celestial ottoman that is decorated with basketballs and plays the theme from Sportscenter, and waited for the fun to begin.

You WISH I could be your Mother in Law

Friday I went to the land of bliss. I purchased lots of purpley goodness so I can have even more purpley goodness around for the purpley goodness wedding. His Lady Gloria Tibbitts loves purple. Here's a peek at what's in store:

The Internet said this was called Purple Spring Daisy. That couldn't be right. I think they meant to say "Unbelievably Incredible Purple Spikey Daisy Tipped with Sky Blue

Flower to the Power".

Purple Lobelia: A Crowd Pleaser

SetcreasaPalldo Purple. This one needs a new name too. Mine is green on the top and purple on the bottom. So it should be called GreentopPurpleBottomPalldo. I like the Palldo part.


Petunia. Purplie Whitie Stripie. Sort of reminds me of Aqua Fresh Toothpaste. Fresh breath is very important in a wedding setting. Not just for the bride and groom mind you.




More Lobeliea. With White on it. Because I have white flowers too.



Dahlia. Oh my. I might eat this for dessert.

Osteo Soprano. Must be a girl flower.

Double Purple/White Petunia. I hear these are more work, because you have to pluck the blossoms off to encourage growth, however, I think it is worth it. Wouldn't you agree? I have these also in Deep Dark Velvety Goodness Purple, and Purity Temple White. Yummalicious.

Purple petunia. Not the work, but quite the stunner.

Maybe THESE are the Osteo Soprano. Can't remember, but aren't they cute and happy?

Heliotrope. Smells Great. Oh, you come and walk by them and you will see I'm right. You will breathe in a breath of Heliotrope air and say to yourself: That Mommacita knows what smells good. And by the way, SHE smells good all the time. You KNOW you're thinking that.

Fuchsia. Deep Purple. This is a little picture, but I have a HUGE plant. Let's be honest I may kill this one with my irresponsible ways. In my past, I have been a Fuchsia Killer. But I'm hanging this one in a tree, so I'm giving it another shot. If I can pull off keeping this alive, I will be mighty impressed with Mommacita. I will be a true nurturer. Finally and forever more. Are you not glad to see me have a goal in life again?

Yet again, more Lobelia. Trailing Lobelia, to go with the white geraniums.

Spikey stickey uppey flower. 10 bucks to the person who can name it. But the one I got only has 1 spike. But it may grow more. So I don't know. This is kind of a stupid contest. I wouldn't enter it if I were you.

Last but not least....lobelia. It's the baby's breath of the 21st century.

I also bought 3 Begonias, so I lied about the "Last but not Least" part. I LOVE the vibranty soft luciousness of the mighty Begonia. Those little flowers just give and give and give all summer. And I love them with all my heart for it. I bought a RED, a YELLOW and a very lovely YELLOWY ORANGE one. I will be hiding the Begonia pots from His Lady Gloria Tibbetts when she comes, because I want her to think that it is all about her, which it is (except for the begonias...they do not come in purple, so those were about me.) And with that, I will leave you with this thought: There is nothing nicer and more restful than a purple flower. Except maybe a Begonia, and that is why they should make them in purple'

Imagine non-stop Begonia Purple creating

Mother In Law of the Year Award for yours truly