Making memories one day at a time.......and then I write about it.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Family Newsletter
Before going to bed last night, I found this stuck to the wall in the hall upstairs
Mr. J: a spunky 6 year old boy who loves to make friends.
Levi: an 10 year old handicapped boy who loves to make up jokes.
Henny Penny: a cute, awesome, messy 11 year old girl who lives with 6 brothers.
Mr. M: a funny 13 year old boy who loves electronects.
Mr. C: a halarious 14 year old boy who loves to play with Mr. J and Levi.
Mr. T: a strange 16 year old boy who loves to miss school.
Mr. B: an epic 18 year boy who loves to be on his own.
Mom: an awesomely - epic 37/38 year old woman who loves to play on facebook. (Huh? Whu??)
Dad: an epicly - awesome 43 year old man who loves to help others.
It says, "If you want you can take it off of the paper clip and look at it, but when you're done put it back".
I took it off and here is what the rest of it says:
The Rubow News
By Henny Penny
The family membersMr. J: a spunky 6 year old boy who loves to make friends.
Levi: an 10 year old handicapped boy who loves to make up jokes.
Henny Penny: a cute, awesome, messy 11 year old girl who lives with 6 brothers.
Mr. M: a funny 13 year old boy who loves electronects.
Mr. C: a halarious 14 year old boy who loves to play with Mr. J and Levi.
Mr. T: a strange 16 year old boy who loves to miss school.
Mr. B: an epic 18 year boy who loves to be on his own.
Mom: an awesomely - epic 37/38 year old woman who loves to play on facebook. (Huh? Whu??)
Dad: an epicly - awesome 43 year old man who loves to help others.
FLIP OVER
Who's on Vacation?
Mr. B and Mr. T are on Spring break, and are spending it playing on electronics. If I were on spring break, I would spend it at my friend's house. Dad is gone to Minnasota. We sure miss him, espesillay Mom, she keeps blaming things on him. I guess thats just what Moms do! I know I'll be like that!
Birthdays
We have one birthday this week and it is Levi. His b-day will be on Friday the 16th. We'll be very excited when that day comes, won't we?
Mom speaking: And there you have it! Apparently Dad is more epicly awesome than my awesomely epicness because he helps others all day and I just sit on Facebook............. and that whole blaming Dad thing........ we all know girls don't pass gas........... who else am I supposed to blame??? Everyone else denies it!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Aw Poop!
Two days ago it was glorious. The sun was out, it was not too hot, not too cold. It was juuuust right.
Hi! My name is Goldilocks and I am going to tell you a story! Just kiddin'. My name isn't Goldilocks. My name is Brunetilocks. Brunetilocks in a box. Other wise, I'd be Greylocks. How dull. Sounds like something you'd get out of a tin can in the tuna fish aisle.........
Sorry. I digress. It was a glorious day. The outdoors called to me and I embraced it with gusto. I grabbed my running shoes, threw on my running not pants not shorts come to my knee black stretchy things that make others run in the other direction when they see me, a top of sorts that had too much spilling out the sides, and a sweatshirt to cover up the nightmare.
I had a new trail to blaze that I'd been thinking about exploring and I decided this was the day! Trail, means road, with lots of houses on it because The SM doesn't want me out and about running by myself and if I do..... then he wants people to be close by so if I decided to have an epileptic spasmodic convulsive fit right there in the middle of the road someone will drive over me and put me out of my misery.
Did I mention it was a glorious day? It WAS! I was trucking along jogging looking at all of the houses and trying to see into their windows and see what people do on a day like two days ago, looking in their yards so see if they have as many weeds as me, assuming if they didn't they have a hired gardener......... I was several miles into my run when it hit.
Remember this post!! Awww poop!
What is it with running and having to POOP!! I'm stuck in neighborhoods that I don't know anyone! I could knock on a strangers door again........ if I want to hit the 5:00 evening news! Pooping Stalker Strikes Again! You think you're bathroom is safe........ and then........ the doorbell rings............... next thing you know, a stranger is in your bathroom and when she leaves, the paint is peeling off the walls.........
I start to play mental games. That building up there! It looks officey. I bet I can sneak in the back and use their toilet! I get closer.......... It's a juvenile center for young boys. It's got locks on all of their doors! What??? What is this world coming to when it starts to lock pooping runners out?
More mental games. There's a bend. I bet there's something around the corner. I turn the corner. About an 1/8th of a mile up the road I see a Honey Bucket. Who pray tell came up with that name? I can just see some buxom farm wife waving a rolling pin yelling at her seedy husband, HONEY!!!! GET IT IN THE BUCKET!!!
I get closer to the Honey Bucket and I start to have a conversation in my head.
Me: Phew! You dont' have to knock on a strangers door!
Me: It's a Honey Bucket...... it's there for the construction workers working on the road.
Me: Yeah! Who cares! It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me: There are two men standing by it.
Me: Who cares! It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me: I bet men have peed all over the floor and seat in that thing.
Me: You're right, let's see what is up and around the next bend.
I keep running telling myself that I know there is a church coming up soon. Helllooooo! I live in Utah! There's a church on every street corner! I make it to the church. I'm proud of myself. Dang proud! I haven't pooped my pants. I've made it! I'm saved!!!! The doors are locked........ I'm sure there is a metaphor here.......
More mind games.
Me: You've been able to hold it this far and it doesn't seem to be getting any worse. The pressure isn't building.
Me: True...... I bet it is just my imagination playing with me. I bet I don't have to poop for reals.
Me: Oh I bet you're right! I bet this is one of those mental game things trying to make it harder on you.
Me: I'm so glad we're a lot smarter than my mind.
I keep running. Only you can't call it running because I'm now grimacing and squeezing my butt cheeks so hard, my hips are tilted under, I now resemble a dog that has been whooped and has it's tail between it's legs. If I had on corduroy pants they'd be making a 'rip rip rip' sound my inner thighs were squeezed so tight.
The last stretch home. The stretch I was on when I had to knock on that strangers house. Still trucking along. I can see the gas station up ahead. It's in my grasp. I'm almost there! I CAN DO THIS!!! I'm so excited. I'm so excited I forget to keep squeezing as I pass THE HOUSE................ the pressure I'd convinced myself that wasn't building hits with full force.
Me: IT'S THE HOUSE!
Me: I KNOW!
Me: We are SO not stopping AT THAT HOUSE AGAIN!
Me: What do you suggest?
Me: SQUEEZE! SQUEEZE DANG IT!
I obey. I squeeze. I refuse to look at the house. I imagine the owner is looking out his window. He sees me. He can see by the way I am squrching (that's a cross between squeezing and lurching) down the road that I've got to poop again. He's laughing at me. JERK!
I hate public bathrooms. They disgust me. Gas station bathrooms especially. I made it to the gas station. I sprinted to the bathroom. I sat down and the biggest sigh of happiness came out of my mouth. I love that bathroom. It's a public bathroom. It disgusts me. It's a gas station bathroom. WE ALL HAVE OUR FAULTS!! Get over it!
Today is a glorious day. I am going to go running. If you see me squatting beside the road do me a favor? Pretend with me that you imagine I am down examining some pretty rocks. Just smile and look the other way and if I call you from the police station because I've been arrested for indecent exposure, just come and bail me out. No questions asked. Remember, my name is Goldilocks. I have a history of going into strangers houses/bathrooms, jumping out windows, and running all the way home.
Hi! My name is Goldilocks and I am going to tell you a story! Just kiddin'. My name isn't Goldilocks. My name is Brunetilocks. Brunetilocks in a box. Other wise, I'd be Greylocks. How dull. Sounds like something you'd get out of a tin can in the tuna fish aisle.........
Sorry. I digress. It was a glorious day. The outdoors called to me and I embraced it with gusto. I grabbed my running shoes, threw on my running not pants not shorts come to my knee black stretchy things that make others run in the other direction when they see me, a top of sorts that had too much spilling out the sides, and a sweatshirt to cover up the nightmare.
I had a new trail to blaze that I'd been thinking about exploring and I decided this was the day! Trail, means road, with lots of houses on it because The SM doesn't want me out and about running by myself and if I do..... then he wants people to be close by so if I decided to have an epileptic spasmodic convulsive fit right there in the middle of the road someone will drive over me and put me out of my misery.
Did I mention it was a glorious day? It WAS! I was trucking along jogging looking at all of the houses and trying to see into their windows and see what people do on a day like two days ago, looking in their yards so see if they have as many weeds as me, assuming if they didn't they have a hired gardener......... I was several miles into my run when it hit.
Remember this post!! Awww poop!
What is it with running and having to POOP!! I'm stuck in neighborhoods that I don't know anyone! I could knock on a strangers door again........ if I want to hit the 5:00 evening news! Pooping Stalker Strikes Again! You think you're bathroom is safe........ and then........ the doorbell rings............... next thing you know, a stranger is in your bathroom and when she leaves, the paint is peeling off the walls.........
I start to play mental games. That building up there! It looks officey. I bet I can sneak in the back and use their toilet! I get closer.......... It's a juvenile center for young boys. It's got locks on all of their doors! What??? What is this world coming to when it starts to lock pooping runners out?
More mental games. There's a bend. I bet there's something around the corner. I turn the corner. About an 1/8th of a mile up the road I see a Honey Bucket. Who pray tell came up with that name? I can just see some buxom farm wife waving a rolling pin yelling at her seedy husband, HONEY!!!! GET IT IN THE BUCKET!!!
I get closer to the Honey Bucket and I start to have a conversation in my head.
Me: Phew! You dont' have to knock on a strangers door!
Me: It's a Honey Bucket...... it's there for the construction workers working on the road.
Me: Yeah! Who cares! It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me: There are two men standing by it.
Me: Who cares! It's a flipping Honey Bucket!
Me: I bet men have peed all over the floor and seat in that thing.
Me: You're right, let's see what is up and around the next bend.
I keep running telling myself that I know there is a church coming up soon. Helllooooo! I live in Utah! There's a church on every street corner! I make it to the church. I'm proud of myself. Dang proud! I haven't pooped my pants. I've made it! I'm saved!!!! The doors are locked........ I'm sure there is a metaphor here.......
More mind games.
Me: You've been able to hold it this far and it doesn't seem to be getting any worse. The pressure isn't building.
Me: True...... I bet it is just my imagination playing with me. I bet I don't have to poop for reals.
Me: Oh I bet you're right! I bet this is one of those mental game things trying to make it harder on you.
Me: I'm so glad we're a lot smarter than my mind.
I keep running. Only you can't call it running because I'm now grimacing and squeezing my butt cheeks so hard, my hips are tilted under, I now resemble a dog that has been whooped and has it's tail between it's legs. If I had on corduroy pants they'd be making a 'rip rip rip' sound my inner thighs were squeezed so tight.
The last stretch home. The stretch I was on when I had to knock on that strangers house. Still trucking along. I can see the gas station up ahead. It's in my grasp. I'm almost there! I CAN DO THIS!!! I'm so excited. I'm so excited I forget to keep squeezing as I pass THE HOUSE................ the pressure I'd convinced myself that wasn't building hits with full force.
Me: IT'S THE HOUSE!
Me: I KNOW!
Me: We are SO not stopping AT THAT HOUSE AGAIN!
Me: What do you suggest?
Me: SQUEEZE! SQUEEZE DANG IT!
I obey. I squeeze. I refuse to look at the house. I imagine the owner is looking out his window. He sees me. He can see by the way I am squrching (that's a cross between squeezing and lurching) down the road that I've got to poop again. He's laughing at me. JERK!
I hate public bathrooms. They disgust me. Gas station bathrooms especially. I made it to the gas station. I sprinted to the bathroom. I sat down and the biggest sigh of happiness came out of my mouth. I love that bathroom. It's a public bathroom. It disgusts me. It's a gas station bathroom. WE ALL HAVE OUR FAULTS!! Get over it!
Today is a glorious day. I am going to go running. If you see me squatting beside the road do me a favor? Pretend with me that you imagine I am down examining some pretty rocks. Just smile and look the other way and if I call you from the police station because I've been arrested for indecent exposure, just come and bail me out. No questions asked. Remember, my name is Goldilocks. I have a history of going into strangers houses/bathrooms, jumping out windows, and running all the way home.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Rebel
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| Image Credit |
I'm a rebel. DELETE!
Now, it's Facebook. The statuses that tell us all to copy and paste in our own status if we feel that......... ya da ya da ya da ya da ya da and if we don't then we must not be proud of our country, our religion, our plumber, or our great aunt's hairy toes.
I'm a rebel. I REFUSE!
A few years ago it was brought to my attention, this really cool stuff that you could put on your eye lashes and it would make them grow a mile long and so thick and lush your shag carpet would be jealous. I wanted some! My eyelashes are 'okay' but they aren't fabulous! At first the stuff was hard to come by. Now, anyone can get it and............. every where I look, I now see women with mile long eyelashes so lush and thick my shag carpet is jealous. Now that so many are doing it........ I don't wanna!
I'm a rebel. NO THANKS!
Why am I such a rebel? Why do I literally run in the other direction when the crowd is going in the other direction. Funny. Because I don't want to be labeled. I don't want to swept away in the mainstream. I don't like others making statements for me. I don't like to look like everyone else.
I like originality. I like making statements because I feel a certain way, not because I copy and pasted someone elses statement even if I agree with it!
I think this all goes back to the grey hair........... I hate coloring my hair because society says a 30 something year old woman shouldn't have grey hair.......... I hate society dictating how I should look, think, feel, etc.
Guess I'm not as rebellious as I'd like to think I am since I'm still coloring my hair........... but don't tell anyone. We'll keep it our little secret.
I'M A REBEL! Copy and paste this blog if you agree that being a rebel is cool! If you don't, your toes will get all hairy like your great aunts and a big lumpy hairy mole will appear on the end of your nose at the strike of twelve midnight tonight!
I like originality. I like making statements because I feel a certain way, not because I copy and pasted someone elses statement even if I agree with it!
I think this all goes back to the grey hair........... I hate coloring my hair because society says a 30 something year old woman shouldn't have grey hair.......... I hate society dictating how I should look, think, feel, etc.
Guess I'm not as rebellious as I'd like to think I am since I'm still coloring my hair........... but don't tell anyone. We'll keep it our little secret.
I'M A REBEL! Copy and paste this blog if you agree that being a rebel is cool! If you don't, your toes will get all hairy like your great aunts and a big lumpy hairy mole will appear on the end of your nose at the strike of twelve midnight tonight!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Cowboy Up
What happens when you take amazing photography skills and add them to an all around good looking Native who needs a Senior picture for the year book ASAP because he's waited until the last minute...... because he's a typical Senior even if he is dang good lookin'?
You get a photo shoot that looks like this: Click on these words
Thank you Jason at Back Roads Photography! Once again, you amaze me with your talent behind a camera!
You get a photo shoot that looks like this: Click on these words
Thank you Jason at Back Roads Photography! Once again, you amaze me with your talent behind a camera!
Monday, March 5, 2012
For Donna
The other day I was looking through my yarn stash and found some yarn that screamed at me. Did you know yarn can scream? It can, and when it does, it is very annoying. Rather than listen to it scream I grabbed it along with some other yarn and started to knit. I had no idea what it was going to be or how it was going to turn out.
I had originally thought it would be a baby hat but as you can see...... it didn't want to be a baby hat. I am willing to bet that Henny Penny schemed with this yarn. As you can see, it fits her perfectly. Personality and all! And would you look at that! It just so happens to be her favorite colors too....... Told ya there was scheming going on behind my back!
I have a Blogger friend named, Donna. She has been learning to knit and made her self a hat which she calls her, "Seussical Hat". If you click on this link you'll see why and find that the name is very much appropriate. I think that perhaps there is a Seussical Hat epidemic going on.........
I had originally thought it would be a baby hat but as you can see...... it didn't want to be a baby hat. I am willing to bet that Henny Penny schemed with this yarn. As you can see, it fits her perfectly. Personality and all! And would you look at that! It just so happens to be her favorite colors too....... Told ya there was scheming going on behind my back!
I have a Blogger friend named, Donna. She has been learning to knit and made her self a hat which she calls her, "Seussical Hat". If you click on this link you'll see why and find that the name is very much appropriate. I think that perhaps there is a Seussical Hat epidemic going on.........
Friday, March 2, 2012
Dear ................
Dear Chickens,
So sorry the wind blew so hard it unplugged your red heating lamp last night. You all seem to have survived the blizzard. Jolly good. Keep laying. Business is business. No hard feelings. Chop chop!
Dear Dogs,
You DOGS!! Thanks a lot for doing your business on the back patio instead of walking five extra feet out to the grass. Made shoveling the patio extra fun flinging your tootsie rolls along with the snow. Do it again and you're going to keep the chickens company.
Dear City Snowplow Driver,
As you passed by going like sixty down my street this morning I noticed something you might want to take note of. The plow on the front of your truck works better when it is down.
Dear Kristen,
You picked a jolly good weekend to go down south where it is warm. Whilst you're out sunbathing in your bikini it is subzero temperatures here and we're under six feet of snow. No exaggerating!!! Your horses say hello and want you to know that they are fat, warm, and sassy. Yes, even the boys.
Dear Snow,
Where the heck have you been all winter?? It's been fun playing with you. Even when the wind tried to blow me down the street while I was shoveling I still enjoyed playing with you.
Dear Hot Cocoa and Wood Stove,
I love you more than my luggage.
Sincerely,
Ouiser
So sorry the wind blew so hard it unplugged your red heating lamp last night. You all seem to have survived the blizzard. Jolly good. Keep laying. Business is business. No hard feelings. Chop chop!
Dear Dogs,
You DOGS!! Thanks a lot for doing your business on the back patio instead of walking five extra feet out to the grass. Made shoveling the patio extra fun flinging your tootsie rolls along with the snow. Do it again and you're going to keep the chickens company.
Dear City Snowplow Driver,
As you passed by going like sixty down my street this morning I noticed something you might want to take note of. The plow on the front of your truck works better when it is down.
Dear Kristen,
You picked a jolly good weekend to go down south where it is warm. Whilst you're out sunbathing in your bikini it is subzero temperatures here and we're under six feet of snow. No exaggerating!!! Your horses say hello and want you to know that they are fat, warm, and sassy. Yes, even the boys.
Dear Snow,
Where the heck have you been all winter?? It's been fun playing with you. Even when the wind tried to blow me down the street while I was shoveling I still enjoyed playing with you.
Dear Hot Cocoa and Wood Stove,
I love you more than my luggage.
Sincerely,
Ouiser
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