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Showing posts from March, 2011

Mac-I-Fied

I have a Mac computer.
I have an iPhone.
I have a mac website, mobileme, iworks, and all other kinds of cool mac things.

I am a Mac.

Husband has a Mac computer.
Husband has an iPhone.

We are a Mac family.

SIL & SIL got back from the Mac store on Sunday after having spent an obscene amount of money on a MacBook Air, mobile me, an iPhone, and a vast assortment of other Mac goodies.

She has been mac-i-fied.

Mom, being very impressed with SIL's new abilities, takes me to the Mac store. She walks out with an iPhone, an iPad, a Mac desktop, and all kinds of Mac-a-roons.

Another convert.

Really, I should get a t-shirt.

Kitchen Dancing

Kitchen dancing is, quite possibly, one of my most favorite past times. It evokes a whimsical freedom of youth that crosses all ages and times of my life. From brother than boyfriends to boyfriends who became husbands (well, boyfrieND who became husbaND) to cousins and friends- there really is no better place to dance than in the kitchen. Long before LMC, Husband and Wife would flip on the stereo when a weekend was to be had and without a second thought found ourselves laughing and dancing in the pea pod green kitchen, just the two of us with the spring air wafting through the craftsman windows of 2635. It is a great place and as I have heard many times, the heart of a household.  When Husband is on call and it is brr cold outside, I will find oldies on the iPod, fun dancing music and my little date and I will dance, dance, dance running around the house (as the kitchen is not large) until we collapse in giggles. Last night, the 85 degree day found The Junior Merrys hosting the Cagle gir…

Me, Tellis, & Eileen

I had the pleasure of babysitting both Tellis & Eileen for about 45 minutes yesterday. Tellis is 6 months older than Eileen and her BFF- not to be confused with An-Ew, her other BF (boy-Friend). Eileen ran into the sleeping Tellis’ room, climbed into her bed and under her covers. Tellis, a very slow waker-up, rolled over and looked questionably at the peanut beside her. Half a second later, they were both jumping up and down in the crib. Eileen, who does not take pacifiers, found one of T’s “baas” and popped it in her mouth... upside down. Tellis pulled it out and replaced it proper side up.
They kissed each other, exchanged baas, and otherwise acted like two long lost soul mates, a new sisterly love rekindled.  Promises of playtime, we evacuate the crib and the girls take off, running down the hall on their tip toes, arms stretch behind them. Trains, kitchens, markers on the wall, they were old pals with not a beat lost. Then, as quickly as it came, the plans changed. T walked up t…

The battle ensues.

As I have said before, I am many things.

Picky eater. Check.
Creative. Check.

When the two get mixed, Eileen has met her match. We made smoothies out of peas and carrots and she was none the wiser. Yesterday though, she turned her nose up to creamed corn.

Seriously? Who doesn't just fall head over heels in love with creamed corn at first sweet, succulent whiff of the yellow-gold good stuff? If she would just try it, she'd like it... but how do you reason with a stubborn little girl just shy of 2?

You smoke 'em out.

Yesterday, she had an excellent breakfast of an Eggo & yo-yo. Lunchtime came around and I tried to feed her corn kernels, off the cob. I was kidding myself, that sounds unappetizing unless it has been dried and popped. Quick deviation, food processor, milk, butter, salt... voila.... exceptionally yummy creamed corn.

"Eileen, are you  hungry?"
"NO!"
"Okay, let me know when that changes."
"Yo-Yo?"
"Nope. Corn?"

A Smoothie by any other name...

Eileen is a picky eater. This is not a statement to be taken lightly and this is not something to put in the "every mother states" category.


I am a picky eater.


When I was about 7, we were eating Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt Susie's house with 30 of our closest relatives. This precious angel pulled the hostess aside and very politely asked for a PB&J. The very polite hostess laughed, took me into the kitchen where all the cooks were preparing to serve, took out the Sunbream, Jif, Smucker's, and set to work. After she was done, the treasured PB&J was presented to me on the dinner china and I asked her to remove the crusts. Only then was the PB&J deemed acceptable for my palate.

As I was saying, Eileen is a picky eater.

If it is not a carbohydrate, she is not interested. If it is not a fried piece of meat, she is not interested. No carrots. No peas. Nothing healthy. She does drink milk, so we have that going for us. She does eat yogurt and is quite a fan o…

spring cleaning

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While on a walk today, I saw the first sign that spring is around the corner...

Technically though, it's the second. The first sign started on Friday afternoon when it Was Time. Time to Clean. This apartment was in serious need of some tidying. The more I tidied, the more focused I became on cleaning the closet. So, taking a page from Eileen's closet, I grabbed a hammer and nails and locked myself in the clutter haven.

I have ten pair of flip flops.

Four pair of tennis shoes. Will has three.
I have four pair of boots. Will has one (shown here).

These are my favorite boots, now hanging smugly at an angle.

And 6 hats. All mine.
Hammer. Nails. Those suckers are really, quite, handy.


Now, every pair has a home, all are off the ground. Purses are in marked boxes, wrapped in their dust jackets. Pashminas are tucked in a separate, tagged, box. T-Shirts and scrubs are in cubbies.
Technically, there are 45 size 7 shoes in our tiny closet. (A few more in hiding under my bed) Let's ponder this …

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday and I have had to sit on myself to not say, "Happy Ash Wednesday!" as it is not an "officially official" holiday. And, is it really something that is supposed to be "happy?" Don't get me wrong, FAT Tuesday-- now that's a happy holiday. Ash Wednesday is like the ancient hangover from Mardi Gras. 


St. Patrick's day is not "officially official" either, but people walk around wearing green and saying, "Erin Go Braugh!" and "Happy St. Patty's!" without the slightest idea of who St. Patrick was or have the first bit of Irish blood running through them. They make pilgrimages to Savannah, Dublin, and... um... other places that have an Irish heritage. Today, while not strutting green, Eileen & I did strut black ashes on our forehead. We were not drinking green beer or creme de minte; we were eating food that did not contain meat. We did attend mass- similar to both occasions, but this mass did…

best buddies go to the zoo

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