Randomocity time

The mom of the brood that makes up 90% of the daycare called in sick this morning, which means I get the day off work (which I gleefully pointed out to Tanner at early o'clock this morning before he left). Ordinarily, this would be awesome. But today, it means I have nothing to do but stare at all my dirty dishes, which, in turn, means that I will at some point end up doing said dishes and cleaning the bathroom and many other unsavory things.

But first I'm gonna waste time by posting a blog with no real purpose!

So, randomocity numero uno: That is exactly how much Spanish I speak. On occasion I can remember 2-10, but it's pretty infrequent.

Randomocity #2: I have recently re-fallen in love with my jaw clip. This isn't really a good thing though, because this happens pretty frequently:

I call it my "Unbrushed 90's Look". Since it takes about thirty seconds to do this do and upwards of five minutes to attempt brushing and styling it any other way, this is my go-to-do. And I'm sorry to say I've actually gone out in public with my hair like this. And it doesn't look very pretty from the front.

Randomocity #3: I took no fewer than twelve pictures of the back of my head to get one that didn't make me look alien-esque. I didn't know it was possible to take a bad back-of-the-head shot. Leave it to me, I'll figure out how to do it at some point...

Randomocity #4: This is some pretty awesome coffee cake I'm eating.

Randomocity #5: If you write out the word "Randomocity" enough, it starts seeming like an actual word. Kinda like the opposite of those times you say a word so often it stops sounding like a word. Like "bowl", for instance. Take a moment to say that twenty times, emphasizing different sounds and exaggerating lip movement. It will soon seem like something Martian.

Randomocity #6: This is a little rant I've been meaning to rant for quite a while. I'm assuming you've all heard of Hurricane Sandy...if not, go get yourself a newspaper and read this again in a little bit. About 8.5 million people were out of power because of it. Of course, all the lineman crews out there were working massive amounts of overtime to get them back into power, so almost every other state in this awesome country of ours sent some of their own crews over to help out. Two crews from Montana were sent, taking the best men from each section. Tanner was really hoping to go (and was bummed when he didn't get picked) until he heard stories from the linemen who had gone over.

These men were working 10-18 hour days seven days a week, sleeping on the floor in some warehouse (think really uncomfortable), eating meals from a cafeteria-ish setup. As they drove down the streets of the cities, however, their trucks would be egged, profanities would be yelled...pretty general mob anger.

I get that being without power for three weeks sucks. I really do. But to put it in perspective, there's people in the midwestern states that go longer than that without power during the really bad winter storms. Here's the thing though: they had more than a week's warning that this storm was coming. They knew what Katrina did to New Orleans, and yet they were apparently caught by surprise when their power went out. Weird. The cities set up refuges for the people who were out of power afterward because they knew it was going to be cold (weird how that happens in November) and that there would be many people without heat. Everything humanly possible had been done for these people.

From what I understand, much of the power grid in that area was pretty old; it's pretty hard for companies to replace all the old structures while the grid is also expanding, requiring whole new spans to be built as well. But let's look at this realistically. Even if the entire are had brand spanking new structures when this storm came through, the wind speed alone (it got up to 110 mph) would have had the power to snap poles in half, especially if we're talking about the normal forty-foot wood ones. The arms holding the wire are even more fragile than the base, obviously, and even a windstorm out here in Montana can have those breaking left and right. Factor in flying debris and flooding, and it could knock down some of those great big steel structures! Of course your power isn't going to stay on! So how, exactly is this the fault of the power company? I guess they just need someone to blame, but honestly--human nature is the cause of most big problems, and it for sure made this one worse. I have yet to hear any sort of thank you ("official" or otherwise) going out to all those men who didn't have a decent meal or a real bed to sleep on for three weeks. (I think our guys are still out there, actually, meaning they missed Thanksgiving as well.) So to all of them, here's wishing you a cup of hot coffee and the world's comfiest Lazy Boy when you get home. Thank you for all you've done!

Rant's done now...thanks for listening =)

Randomocity #7: Lt. Charles Dogford has a "Thankful List" that I've been meaning to post for about a week...but since this blog has gotten kind of long already and since my dishes still need done and the bathroom still needs cleaned, I think it'll wait until tomorrow at least. But now you have something to look forward to!

Just not worth it

Once upon a time, there was a little green plastic ball from Wally World that was kept in a cupboard out of reach of the dog. Then, one day (hint: today) I gave it to said dog to play with. Needless to say, he had torn a gash in it after a minute and a half of play. But it got my mind going. We don't let him play with tennis balls unless we're playing at the park because he focuses so much energy on them that they're torn to shreds in minutes. So maybe, I thought, if we got one big enough he couldn't pick it up, he could enjoy playing with it and not end up popping it quite so quick.

So I when I went to Walmart again to pick up some miscellaneous paraphernalia, a soccer ball was also on the list. But, oops...my frugal mind zeroed in on the cheapest one there, and somehow reasoned that it would be good enough for the cause.

Hardly. It wasn't two minutes before Tanner and I (sitting in the kitchen eating dinner) heard the tell-tale pip-fshhhhhhh from the other room signifying the death of Charlie's latest toy. Five minutes after that, he had a hole the size of a fist chewed in it. No respect for the deceased, apparently. Balls are just not worth buying for him.

I don't feel all that bad for him though, as he has a slew of other toys of a much more indestructible nature hanging around the house. The most recent of these is his tire...made of sturdy rubber, and hollow, which invites more thoughts of peanut butter...

Anyway, he adores it--runs around with it flipped up over his nose, wagging his tail like mad, almost begging us to chuckle at him. Today (I wish I had gotten a video of this) he managed to get his foot through the center of it right before he picked it up, and he couldn't figure out for the life of him how it got in there or how to get it back out! And of course, dropping the precious thing was unthinkable, so he got to hop around on three legs for a while trying to figure himself out. I love this dog.

By the way, it turns out his tummy doesn't handle Thanksgiving leftovers well, as evidenced by the pile of them I found half-digested on our living room floor yesterday morning. Black Friday indeed. Sure did blacken my mood for a while. His queasy state was good for something though...he apparently figured out that it was the fact that he bolted all that food that made him sick, and since then, he's actually been eating his meals one bite at a time! He even chews it now. I think this is called a silver lining.

Today, I'm thankful for tired doggies.

We spent the day today up north with our nearly-Canadian cousins (we were like two miles from the border...no joke!) It was a fun day full of little kiddos--the next generation of cousins--awesome food, good conversation, and, for the men, shooting a 50 calliber rifle at a target a mile away. This, Tanner tells me, was incredibly exciting.

Okay, dude.

Towards the end of the evening, I also got to spend close to an hour trying to hunt down two dogs that had disappeared at some point during the afternoon. Oh yeah....one of them was Charlie.

We decided he'd have more fun with us, running around with another dog in a yard without a fence, than he would being left at home alone for twelve hours. So we loaded him up and made the two hour trip north, during which time he didn't stop pacing long enough to lay down and stop driving us crazy. We were more than happy to let him out of the car when we got there, and he was ridiculously excited to go run off with Blueberry, the dog of the residence. Figuring he would stick close to Blueberry who would in turn stay close to home, we didn't worry at all about him and went on merrily stuffing our faces as tradition suggests. Right around 3:30, though (an hour before it gets dark now-a-days...how ridiculous), I realized that neither pooch was anywhere to be found. That was when I was told that Blueberry takes the occasional jaunt to the neighbor's house a couple miles away to chase their chickens.

Hence the search. Long story short, I found them both on my second round, running full-tilt down the road back toward the house. I still have no idea where they had gotten to, and I probably never will. I just know that the car was blessedly quiet on the trip home because he was snoozing in the back seat! This dog wore himself out to the point that he didn't even try to jump into the car like he normally does...he climbed in, one foot at a time. He walked up to the door and didn't even try to run off when we let him out of the car back home. And here's the real doozy...he didn't even finish his food!

The latter may have something to do with the fact that someone fed him a plateful of scraps while we were there. The gas he's experiencing right now might have something to do with that as well. Ugh.

Hope you guys had just as fabulous a day as we did! Anyone going Black Friday shopping tonight? I'm passing for now, but I hear we get to hit up Ace and Big R tomorrow morning for power tools. Wahooooo....

Spirit of Thanks, right?

Today, I left the house for ten minutes to grab some salsa for the bean dip I'm taking to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. It was a very quick, in and out trip--though the self-checkout and back out to the car. A couple of things happened during this trip that caused my faith in the usually present goodwill of people as a whole to take a nosedive.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I got stuck behind one of those people who drives slowly over the bumpy part of the entry to save their cars some pain. I get that, but I was in a hurry, so when we got into the parking lot, I drove down another aisle so I wouldn't be stuck behind them as I looked for a spot. I turned into the next when I got to the end of the row and found one, so I headed for it. So did the person who had previously been in front of me. We both stopped in something of a Mexican standoff waiting for the other to figure out what was going on. Well, that was me, anyway...They just glared at me until I backed up and went on to the next row (where I found a front row spot...as good as it gets without a wheelchair).

Went in, grabbed my salsa, got back into my car and tried to leave. Knowing that due to the holiday shoppers, there was a lot of extra traffic around, I was extra careful backing up, checking around me multiple times to make sure I wasn't going to run over any kids or old ladies. Somehow, I managed to overlook a woman who was still in front of the store when I started backing up, so when I switched into drive, she was standing there, apparelty offended that I hadn't seen her and clearly stated with one look that I was the scum of the earth for making her wait an extra ten seconds to get back to her car with her bag. I smiled, mouthed "oops, sorry!" and went (slowly) on my way. She glared, gestured rudely, and stalked off to her car. Okaaaayy.

(Just a note for people doing their grocery shopping right now...please realize that even though pedestrians have the right of way, if people driving have no idea where you're going, you're awfully hard to plan for. Those crosswalks painted all over the place are there for a reason. If you use them, traffic is able to move much easier, and no one gets angry to the extent that was happening today.)

I get that the stress of cooking a lot of food is fairly large, but no one in their right mind goes shopping the day before Thanksgiving for all their supplies, so those that do so have no reason to be angry at the world. Kicking themselves for not doing it sooner is permissable.

Last I checked this holiday isn't even about the food, it's about being thankful that we have what we need to make it by, not grouchy because we don't have enough to buy a fancy new car or take a trip to Europe (although, one without such things is clearly deprived). I think that if you have the means to buy the cart full of groceries that you're able to push because of no physical disabilities in your shiny new leather boots and designer coat, you should be smiling. But nowadays, many people are grateful only for the uber-superfluous things that really don't matter. Chalk one up for consumerism.

You know what the pilgrims were thankful for? Corn. And funny hats with buckles on them.

So to cheer myself up after this encounter with every Debbie Downer in town, here's my thankful list:

I'm thankful
     -for a pretty awesome husband and a crazy dog that keep me laughing constantly.
     -that we both have jobs we like and that we're fortunate enough to not have to worry about where the next paycheck will be coming from.
     -that I have a reliable car that will keep me safe this winter.
     -for heaters.
     -that no matter where I go, I can have fellowship with people that are as dear to me as family.
     -that I have a good relationship with all my sisters.
     -that even though it seems like our freedoms are being infringed upon, there are some that can never be taken away.
     -that my dishes are (currently) done and my kitchen is clean.
     -for the rock salt that keeps me from falling on my rear whenever our sidewalks ice over.
     -for naptimes.
     -(kinda) that Hostess is going out of business. Twinkies will have lost their power to make me fat.

There. That'll tide me over until my next trip to town.

In the meantime, though...I'm trying to think of ways to pay it forward--tis the season!--and I'm looking for ideas. I know a whole lot more people read this than comment (I've got this awesome thing that lets me see what countries are reading it, how many hits it gets; essentially, I'm creeping on all of you), so do me a favor and actually comment this time. Give me your favorite ideas, but keep in mind, there isn't much of a budget for this, k? Gimme some good ones!

Slight traffic rant

Say you're driving on a two-lane highway that is usually very busy, except that this particular Monday, for some reason it's not. You're having a very nice sixty mile drive with no cars driving annoyingly slow to get your blood pressure up. You don't even find yourself getting excited when you see the signs for passing lanes approaching, because, for once, you have no need of them. But when you reach said passing lane, there appears a car in front of you, approximately halfway down the four-lane stretch. It's too far away to determine how fast you are approaching it, so you figure you're going the same speed and don't worry about it.

Until the end of the passing lane.

Then your level of annoyance is so high it is actually most similar to homicidal because you were ten feet short of being able to pass the car that, unbeknownst to you, is actually going right around forty miles an hour.

This happened to me at literally EVERY passing lane between Three Forks and Helena this afternoon. Sometimes, I'd hit the gas and manage to pass the car in front of me, only to realize that there's a fully loaded cattle truck half a mile away that had just reached the "Right Lane Ends" sign.

I'm getting grumpy just talking about it.

Had a fun evening back home though! Except for the orthodontist appointment thing. I don't think I'll be eating anything but smoothies and ice cream for the next week. The good news that came from said tooth-wrenching appointment, however, was that I'm on month thirteen of eighteen with this blasted contraption. Then I shall no longer be Brace-Face! Three cheers, old chap. Cheerio.

I'm going to go ruin my liver with more Advil.

By the way...Have I mentioned my hubby says that weirdest things? The other day he got mad at the dog for "crop dusting".

Yeah, it took me a while to figure out what he meant too. It was right about the time I caught a whiff that my brain made the connection.

Later that afternoon, I hugged him from behind, and told him (somewhat proudly, as I went through a first aid course not too long ago) that I could perform the Heimlich. And I demonstrated. The reaction?

"Honey, I'm not sick! I don't need the Heimlich!"

That's why I married him. Seriously. I get an ab workout from laughing almost every day.

The One With The Ick Factor

Since I've started working at the daycare, I've gotten better at changing diapers. I've learned that it IS, in fact, necessary to burp infants after feeding them. I've learned that often, babies won't drink their bottles if theyre poopy. I've learned that you should always close the door to the bathroom (but make sure there aren't any toddlers in there first...that ends up badly). I've also learned that giving a two-year-old pudding, while entertaining, is not the smartest thing to do when trying to maintain a semi-clean table/kitchen.

But today, I learned something entirely new.

A child that's roughly the size of a basketball can projectile vomit three to four feet if the fancy strikes them. And generally, they don't care whose lap they're sitting on.

Wanna know how I know this? You've probably already guessed, but I'll enlighten you anyway. Poor L (my favorite, in case I haven't mentioned that before) hasn't been feeling good all week. In a couple different instances, we left him in his little vibratey chair thing for five minutes, only to come back to find that he had effectively covered himself in the formula that took about twenty minutes to feed him. The last couple of days, after feeding him much diluted formula, he seemed to be getting a little better, but today, he proved that theory wrong. While I was trying to get some food into him, this itty bitty little boy shot off like a geyser and spewed everything he had eaten since ten o'clock this morning all over my arm, my jeans, and the chair (that thankfully had a removable cover) that we were sitting in.

I don't think I had been warned before I started the job that this would eventually become part of my job description, but whatcha gonna do?

So, I dutifully grabbed a rag and started to mop up his face and hands with it, but right as I wiped the remains off his mouth, round two began. Only this time, the...uh, substance...had no place to go but back in his face or off to the side, as I was still holding the burp cloth right there. So it chose both paths. He ended up with formula in his eyelashes and ears, and I had a nice line of it all down my shirt.

I could do nothing but laugh. The only other option would have been to break down and sob while staring at the state of my clothes and realizing that I was going to smell like sour milk for the next week. I think laughing was the better option. At least there wasn't poop involved (this time).

Cool story, though....today was the one day I actually brought an extra shirt from home! I've wished I had had one before, like the time I picked up R from her crib and my arm suddenly became uncomfortably warm and moist.

After we had gotten him all cleaned up, the girls started waking up, one at a time (we had six out of seven asleep at once! Award, please?), so I got them going on a "science" project that involved balloons, straws, Lincoln Logs, and a bunch of other doodads. R was free to walk between the big kids room and the babies, as she's that age where she's interested in the goings on, but can't really participate. Lichen was keeping the babies happy, so R was pretty content to wander. After our project was done, Lichen came in and asked where R was.

I dunno, she hasn't been in here in twenty minutes!

Shoot. She's been quiet for a really long time...

Come to find out, she'd made her way to the bathroom and was playing in the toilet. And we'll just say that the water wasn't clean. So her bath time got moved from later this evening to right then, and her clothes got added to the wad that L had soundly soiled.

Might as well get it all done in one day! I think we deserve an ick free week, now.

Charlie's thought(s) of the day

6:15 a.m.

They're awake! Must bounce to convey the fullness of my bladder. Potty dance! Potty dance! Potty da...aaahhhh. Relief. Food! Food! Food! Must sit and wait. Foo...!

"Snarf gobble crunch. Wheeze."

"Slow down, Charlie!"

Something caught in throat, but must keep eating. Food disappears as fast as I can eat.

"Hack hack, cough."

"Dumb dog...never slows down."

Food's gone. Double check. Food's gone. Play? Play? Please? Play? Kong! Play! Outside? To play? Okay! Wait, where'd you go? No play? Same every day. Boring humans. Oh! Squirrel!

Run! Bark! Run! Bark! Bark! Bark! Hooooooowl! Begone, fiendish trash truck! Cold. Inside? Please? Fine. Will make do with dumb little house.

Zzzzzzzz.

Wazzat?

"Bark! Barkbarkbark!"

Oh. Nothing important.

Zzzzzzz.

2:15 p.m.

Door slam. Humans home? Human home!! Must bounce! Play? Play? No! Don't sit down with your project! Then you ignore me! Don't ignore me! I'll make it impossible! See my toy? See it up close? I'll even let you play with it! Sorry about the slobber. Why'd you throw it? Here. I'll give you another cha...stop that! No, I wouldn't like to lay down, thank you. Oh, you insist? Dern it. Wait, did you say I could get up? Oh. You know, I think I'll lay down.

Zzzzzzzzzz.

4:30

What'cha doin' now?

People food! Must have! Share? No, I wouldn't like to get out either. Oh fine. Party pooper. I'll just be over here sulking and making you sorry you put me in exile.

How 'bout share now? Fine, I'll go out, but this is the last time, you hear?

Now? Can I just clean the floor? Ugh...hair on my tongue. Probably mine.

How 'bout now?

Snow Day!!

I feel like I did when I was kid living in pansy-ish California, getting a day off of school when we got two inches of snow. Except that this time it's work, and twelve inches of snow, and to be honest, that's not even why I got the day off. I've just got this really cool boss who told me to stay home to work on a bunch of my half-finished projects. This may have something to do with the fact that I've borrowed her sewing machine for one of them and she probably wants it back sooner than later. Can't say I blame her! Thanks, Lichen =D

I was feeling strangely unmotivated to do the things I usually do before work this morning, though. Up until 8:20 when Lichen called, all I had done was shower and eat a bowl of Ramen and watch a documentary on dogs on Netflix. Oh, and I had thrown some clothes in the washer. Altogether, unproductive. But then I got that fateful phone call, realized that I couldn't use "time-crunch" as an excuse anymore, so I got cracking, starting by shoveling off the sidewalk. Not just in front of my house, but also in front of those on either side of us, and a couple more down as well. I shoveled about 2/3rds of our side of the block, honestly, and I'm not sure why I did it. Exercise, I suppose. And so that the mail lady can get through to get us our mail today, since she didn't yesterday. (I refuse to consider that the reason our mail box was empty was simply that no one loved us enough to send us junk.)

Afterwards, I washed the gargantuan pile of dishes cluttering up my counters, and now I actually enjoy looking at my kitchen! Amazing how that one thing can make the difference between a happy Kara and a grumpy one.

On a completely unrelated side track, who here can name all seven dwarves? It's apparently not a common trait. I can do it, as well as do the fold-in-half thing with my tongue. And that clover leaf thing too. Sorry, back on topic now.

All that's left now is some laundry folding and hanging, some bathroom cleaning, and a little bit of tidying. Instead of doing any of that, though, I'm working on one of these. Pretty slick, no? I'm crazy excited about it.

Sigh...I need a bigger living room. Charlie's tired of being cooped up,

so he's solving his problem by shoving his toy in my face for me to throw, and it only takes about the same amount of time as three words take to type, so this blogging thing is going pretty slowly. Were my living room larger, I might be able to squeeze in five or six words before he got back. I'm honestly surprised he's still speaking to me. After this morning, I wasn't sure if he would love or hate me, as I stuffed his kong with peanut butter and bacon flavored treats that are nearly impossible to get back out with anything but a pencil. He worked at it for a solid half hour.

It was no half-hearted effort. That toy got mauled, but survived, somehow. I love that thing.

This car has been scraped off twice today.

That one never did get scraped off, and probably won't all winter. I wonder what it would look like if the snow on it never melted, but it kept accumulating more all winter. My guess is that it wouldn't be visible beyond December.

And this is the sidewalk that has also been shoveled twice. I'm trying to get the victory and not complain all winter about the snow, but I really wouldn't mind if it would stop snowing on that particular spot. Just sayin. And on the roads. If it didn't snow on the roads, I would have no issue with it at all. Oh, and it would have to stop every time I walked outside.

Then I would like snow. But only then.

This is another reason I usually don't like snow. There used to be a blanket in this doghouse. Guess where it is now?

That's right, under a foot of snow, somewhere in our back yard. Poochy sure likes to drag it around. His NylaBone is out there somewhere too. Probably won't get either one back until the spring. Well, I'm off to work on my quilt a little more. And I'm going to enjoy a piece of this chocolate cake I made this morning. And I don't think I'm going to share. Maybe with Tanner if he asks very nicely. Maybe, but probably not. What can I say? Snow makes me uncharitable when it comes to sharing my delicious cake.

Hope the rest of you like snow more than I do, or no one's gonna get cake.

My dog is eating crayons...

Not even kidding.

He tried anyway. Maybe he thought "Burnt Orange" tasted like the real thing, and that's why he went for it.

Then again, even that doesn't explain it. This dog is a mystery. He also eats fuzzy socks, anything that comes out of the trash, children's mittens, my favorite beanie (okay, my only beanie), and used tissues.

Dude. Even I have a better diet than that.

On another note, Charlie made his first doggie friend  yesterday, in the form of a border collie named Jack. They hit it off, which is fantastic, because having noted the amount of barking he does at the neighborhood dogs and the lunging he does while on the leash, his compatibility with other dogs was being questioned. He has proven himself trustworthy, however, so the next challenge will be the dog park! Woot!

By the way, it is possible to have a dog that's too smart. Ours has figured out that he can bribe US to get treats. Usually it's "I won't settle down until you pull out the treat. Then I'll lay down and be an angel until that one's disappeared", although about once an evening (when we're trying to get him outside for the night), he also pulls out the "You think I'm going to follow you to the door where I'm going to be locked out until the morning? Ha. Right. Pay up."

So we pay up, and Kara goes shopping for more dog treats tomorrow.

What a putz.

In awesome news, I got two pairs of name brand jeans from an online garage sale thing today for $25! I was stoked. Of course, I don't really need new jeans, and one of them is about three inches too long and will have to be hemmed, but one does not simply let a bargain like that pass. These things are normally $80-$90 apiece. Booyah.

Going to bed early tonight. Going to leave a little early tomorrow too, so I can get donuts before work. (Don't tell Tanner...I'll be in trouble!) They're calling my name. My salivary glands are answering.

This has turned into a really boring post, so I'll just leave now.

The post of multiple topics

First and foremost being, I have a new favorite. He arrived just a few days ago, and as he's smaller and sleeps more than the previous favorite, he trumps all.

Actually, L. is still pretty close...maybe I'll just have two favorites now. Or four...they're all uber adorable. Gotta love my job!

Anyway, world, meet Evan Buster.

So named because Lichen went into labor the day the Giants won the world series, and Daddy's favorite player's name is Buster. This boy will always have a story to tell, that's for sure.

Second, I went to babysit Roy's awesome kiddo, Joe. Funniest kid...Poor Kaylee was trying to teach piano lessons while he was running rampant, so to get some energy out, we had him run laps around the table. And he likes to count, so we counted with him.

Thirdly, I got a new cookbook today...it weighs approximately a hundred pounds, and I'm completely in love with it...there's about 4000 recipes I want to try in it. Well, more like 90, 'cause it's only got 1049 in it. But, considering most cookbooks only yield one or two decent sounding meals, I think I scored on this. Or, actually, Brenda did, as it was a wedding present.

It's fabulous.

And it's name is Taste of Home.

Fourthly (and probably lastly), Tanner somehow has me convinced to go hunting with him tomorrow. This means leaving at 5:30 on a Saturday. I must love this man. Or I'm completely delusional. Because of this I have made my worst fashion choice to date. It involves a bunch of orange.

Tanner stated, very matter-of-factly that this trip was not going to be a fashion statement. "No one's going to see you out there, you don't need to wear your cute new boots. In fact, I'd reccommend not, if you want to keep them cute. Oh, and wear a pair of jeans you don't like much. Maybe bring your muck boots, and that really ugly sweater you don't wear much, because it's going to be cold in the morning and you'll want a couple layers of sweatshirts."

Let's get one thing straight...I don't layer sweatshirts. Ever. Makes me look like I'd get places faster if I was rolling instead of walking.

"But...but....the wildlife needs to be taught about cute clothes! I can't just show up looking frumpy when their education is at stake!"

Needless to say, I lost that argument. Tanner quoted Bill Engvall later, "I'm there to shoot the deer, my wife's there to take it shopping!"

Well, if I thought I could find a pair of shoes that would fit over a set of hooves, it might be a possibility! Now don't you sass back at me!

Oh, thought that was the lastly, but this actually is.

Got home from donating my time to a noble cause (babysitting Joe), to find THIS:

That turd ate my bean dip! Of course, he was sneaky and left some on the sides so I wouldn't notice so quickly, but that didn't fool me for a second. Whadda brat. I'm hiding the next batch. Count on it.

The whole house is going to smell tonight.