Showing posts from September, 2015

The days that make the memories

It’s Monday and we are sitting in our corner suite of the Kappa house. The music is quiet and the window is open. Sometime in the days prior, the heat of summer finally broke and it is starting to look like fall. We are sitting on the two beds laughing. 
The buzzer buzzes for supper and we kill the music on her computer before hustling downstairs to sing our blessing and eat with our housemates.
Thursday with a football game at home in two quick days; I borrow her black pencil skirt strapless dress and she flips through my closet for a green silk camisole and black pants. She tells me to wear my hair down. I pull it back. She grabs the pins out of my hair and throws them. Running down the stairs, we have boys picking us up for a date night. 
It’s Monday night and we have chapter. I want to skip. She agrees and we sneak out the back door and head to Flannigans where we run into half of the Chi Phis who decided that this day was too beautiful to sit in a room discussing the busine…

Pickling Okra

When boiling water gets in your eye... it hurts.
Like a sonofabitch

Ummmmm I bet. Are you ok?
I would rather be pickling my liver instead of okra.
Yeah, I'm ok...  but dude.

Bahahaha Not laughing at your pain
And then half my jars just cracked.
Eff pioneering.
Eff homesteading.

Whoa. You are HACKED.
Don't eff with me when it comes to homemade.
Have you ever canned?

I can tell how mad you are by the use of "EFF" instead of another word.  Yes, I have canned fig preserves. That's it.
Canning [is not cool](yeah, because that's what I said)
Let me be crystal clear:
It [is not cool]

Porpoise parts? Wow, that really [is not cool].
[insert an image of me... here]

Another jar just blew.
I quit.

DONE! You know what I'm over? Diapers leaking out the front with TT
Yeah, I'm over that, too.

.... a five minute pause....
I just burnt myself.
Boiling water running down my arm.
This. Is. A. Joke.

Abort the kitchen. NOW!
I can't. I have okra to deal with.

Friend saved…

Les Poisson

Husband is a member of an Exchange club here in Hometown. Annually, they have a lobster sale to raise funds for the children. What children? I don't know. What for the children? I don't know. How much do they raise and where are the children? I don't know.
It's lobster, people.
I texted a friend, because who calls anymore, and asked her if she liked lobster. Apparently, she and her husband love lobster-- and would love to eat lobster with us... pending they weren't yachting. 

After checking with her social secretary, it was confirmed that they were, in fact, not yachting this past Sunday and could make an addition to her social calendar.
Another couple could join us and a date was set. 
Lobsters on the veranda at The Manor. 

Four adults showed up, with a total of seven children. The day... perfect. This was the first fall day I remember feeling since we relocated back to the land of two seasons: Summers and Ice Storms. We scrolled open all six sets of doors and th…