my version of a thanksgiving feast

We're going to Dad's for Thanksgiving. But you won't catch me getting anywhere near the turkey.

A bologna sandwich will do just fine.

That's because after partaking of some turkey leftovers from last year's Thanksgiving food-fest, I experienced a dreadful and gruesome bout of food poisoning.

The puking was so violent that at one point, I prayed for release via a sure and speedy death.

I found out later that apparently, you're not supposed to store leftover turkey on the bones the way we did. Instead, it should immediately be cut from the carcass.

Please take this lesson to heart; otherwise, you'd better add adult diapers and an extra-large barf bucket to your grocery list.

But as for me, I'm playing it safe. Just a plain bologna sandwich, please.

phoenix phamily phun

Last week, we were treated to a last-minute visit from Cousin Robert.

Robert works for an airline and is often able to zip into town from his home in Phoenix. When he does, we always find something new and unusual to do.

During this visit, we went to the St. Louis City Museum and ate at the elegant Hillbilly Heaven here in the metropolis of Wright City. The fragrance of cigarette smoke from that fine establishment still lingers in the fibers of my jacket.

But the highlight of the trip was the afternoon we spent in North St. Louis taking pictures. Robert and I share a love of photography and every time we get together, the cameras come out.

Our favorite subjects are old, dilapidated buildings and there was no shortage of them that afternoon. Here are a couple of the 500 or so pictures I took.

good eatin'

Augie and Tilly were treated to a full check-up today at the vet's office.

I thought they'd be excited about the break from their usual routine, but they proved me wrong. Augie whined like a newborn and Tilly shimmied out of her collar in the parking lot, then challenged me to a footrace.

Once inside, their adventure included a round of shots and what the bashful technician vaguely referred to as a rectal exam.

I felt a little guilty on the drive home and decided they deserved a treat. So I pulled off at the local meat market and asked if they had any scrap bones.

"We sell them for $3," a surly worker replied.

Seemed like a lot to pay for someone's trash, but I handed over the money. It was a rare extravagance and the dogs would probably get an hour's enjoyment out of the feast.

Several minutes later, a worker came out hefting a huge, bloody box that he flopped into the front seat of my van. Inside were the most massive bones I'd ever seen. They were dripping with scraps of flesh and utterly repulsive.

When we got home, Augie made off with something that looked like a spinal column. Tilly delicately nibbled at a pelvis.

The box was too heavy for me to lift, so I wrapped up the bones in individual packages and put them in the garage freezer.

The neighbors probably wondered what I was up to with all those large, bloody bones. Too bad Todd's not out of town for a few days; I'd like to keep them guessing.

Augie, our gentle and timid lapdog, reacts to the suggestion that he share his portion of bloody ribcage.

"This beats my usual grub," Tilly says.

settling a score

I've been nagging Todd for about a month to change the burnt-out lightbulb in our garage.

Finally, I decided to clamber onto the roof of Grandpa's car and do it myself.

But after the job was done, I decided to toy with Todd a little.

After all, if I let him become too cozy with the notion that I'll take care of his unsavory chores, I might find myself hanging Christmas lights next month.

I found a template for a fake invoice. Then, I entered the information of a make-believe handyman service and printed it up.

I then stuck it in the folder with the rest of the bills.

He's going to be steamed when he thinks this is what I had to resort to in order to get that lightbulb changed. It's about a week's worth of his beer money, after all.

I can't wait.

rodents on parade

On Sunday, we participated in Warrenton's Pet and People Parade. It was a great time and we won a whopping second place prize of $15 for our costumes.

Just think...if I could find about seven more contests for us to enter and win, I could recoup what the materials cost for these outfits.

Logan was excited to dress up and insisted on being addressed only as Mickey while he was in costume.

But when we got in the van to head over to the parade, he realized there was a drawback to dressing as his favorite rodent.

"I CAN'T SUCK MY THUMB!" he yelled, holding out his puffy white glove-encased hands.

Hmm. Maybe I can find a use for these gloves once Halloween's over.

circus freaks

Logan and I went to a local circus last week. It was pretty darned cool and beat the pants off the high-budget larger shows I've seen.

The morning of the show, we drove out to watch the set-up. This included seeing the elephants get pedicures.

See the guy in the above photo? A few minutes later, he was wielding a shovel as he took care of a task even more unpleasant than filing a pachyderm's toenails.

This gal could certainly climb a pole, and judging from the cut of her outfit (I opted not to post a frontal view), she's probably had a chance to practice her pole antics in venues other than just the circus.

We paid an extra two bucks to sit right alongside the ring and I was a tad nervous when the elephants performed a series of ballerina twirls a few feet from where we sat.

Logan wasn't as impressed with the circus. However, he was captivated by the vendors and their flashing toys and tasty treats. His mom quickly fell out of favor for refusing to buy him any.

Here he is with the ringmaster, still holding a grudge. I didn't score any points by telling him that the graphic on his t-shirt meant he was marked for consumption by the tigers.

notice anything strange?

Anyone familiar with the quirks of our household might be able to spot something unusual about the photo I took today during Logan's naptime.

Give up?

He's in his own bed for a change. It's the first time he's slept in it.

Ever.

mama's costume, part dos

I'm almost finished with this costume.

Need a reminder as to why I'm making it?

Because I need the assurance that someday my kid will leave me for dead in the crappiest nursing home around.

It's waaay too big, so I'll either alter it or eat one gooey butter cake per day between now and the 31st.

The first option sounds like too much work, so I'd better go preheat the oven.

Like how I managed to sneak Bud into the picture? Think of it as a fringe benefit - or not. He's been looking extra rough lately.

Any other grown-folk out there dressing up for Halloween or am I the only dork around?

fall photos

Taken at Pumpkins Galore in Wright City, MO. Enjoy!

happy october

October is my family's second-favorite month; the cool weather and rich colors make it so irresistible that we make several treks to the park each week.

It's often the last opportunity of the year to spend long stretches of time outdoors. Next month, another harsh winter will likely begin to confine us to the house.

That is, until springtime, our absolute favorite time of year.

mama's costume, part uno

I'm laying odds that someday my ungrateful child will drop me off at a substandard nursing home without a backward glance.

And golly, do I love me some Halloween. Always have.

So I'm making the best of these two definitives by whipping myself up a costume so that I can actively accompany the boy this year when he trick-or-treats.

If I'm still feeling motivated once I've finished my outfit, I'll make one for Todd, too.

Logan will probably be delighted. But in 10 years when I whip out the pictures, that delight will be replaced by horror and mortification.

As a result, I'll be doing him a favor. He won't feel one bit guilty about taking advantage of the two-for-one special when he parks us at the Heaven Bound Nursing Facility.

This weekend, I finished the first piece of my costume. Can you guess what the finished product's going to be?



Heck, no, I'm not going to model them for you. Actually, I tried, but in the picture, it's hard to tell where the bloomers stop and my white, spindly legs begin.

evening tomfoolery

Todd was bored last night and decided it was time for some family fun.

No, we didn't play a rousing game of charades or get out the Twister mat.

Instead, he pulled out a dishtowel and wound it up nice and tight. Then, he turned on the kitchen sink and got the tip of it wet.

He was then ready to wage war on the family. Logan got the first pop.

By the way, that wierd-looking plastic thing on the floor next to the toybox is where we put Bud Bird's cage during the day. Bud was asleep in the back room when this tomfoolery took place.

Otherwise, Todd would've popped him, too.


After Logan got a few licks, it was Augie's turn.

Logan tried to run for cover and got a few more.

Time for tug-of-war. Mind you, this is a kitchen towel that I regularly use.

Look at the agility Augie displays as he prepares to maim my towel.

Don't worry; it's in the washing machine now.

new shirt for my main man

This shirt is hot off the sewing machine. Looks simple but it dealt me a fit. Apparently, knit stretches out of shape when you're not careful.

Don't ask me how I know, and definitely don't look in my trashcan. Otherwise, you're likely to see two other shirts that look eerily similar to this one.

By the way, please ignore the layer of funk on the futon; it's where Tilly sleeps.

And if you're coming to visit and plan to bunk up in our guest room, forget you read that.

apple-pickin'

We went to Apple Junction in Marthasville today where we picked apples, petted goats and played on a huge outdoor slide.

I swore that today I wouldn't sew at all and instead devote the full day to Logan. I've been a little negligent since getting the new sewing machine.

A couple of days ago, I sewed all day, only taking a break to give him lunch. At naptime, he put himself to bed.

When he woke up, he went back in the living room and continued with his day. In the guest room, I chugged along on the sewing machine.

I started feeling a little guilty when he eventually popped his head in the room and said "Mama, I like your machine," a thinly veiled plea for my attention.

So today, I kept the cover on the sewing machine - at least until naptime.

happy birthday to moi

Here's the latest addition to our family. I haven't named her yet. Something that rhymes with expensive would probably be fitting.

Even though I bought this with birthday money (thanks, Mom and Dad), I'm still guarding the receipt with my life.

Otherwise, Todd will demand I march it right back to the store so that we can use the money for something a little less frivolous.

Possibilities might include a boat, motorcycle, or maybe a lifetime subscription to Hustler.

that's my boy

Here's a picture of my son taken this afternoon.

Yes, that's a tribal armband temporary tattoo on his arm.

Yes, he's wearing a wife-beater.

And yes, he's digging in the trashcan.

p.s. There's another one of those tattoos on his other arm. I can't wait to take him to church in the morning.

catching the bus

This year, Logan gets to ride the bus home from school. Thursday was his first day, and although he was a little bit scared when I dropped him off, he was all smiles when he got home.

I've been really, really resistant to this although I knew it would be something he'd enjoy. Don't ask me why, but I hate for him to ride with others.

Doesn't make a lot of sense; I'm not such a great driver myself, so it's doubtful he's safer just because he's with me.

Anyway, he loved his first bus ride and can't wait to go back Tuesday so he can do it again.

picture day

Today was picture day at Logan's school. I tried to get a photo before we left this morning but the little stinker wouldn't stand for me to get a shot of his full outfit.

I had to take what I could get, which is a picture of him sitting in the minivan.

time's a-wastin'

I have a story to write for my side job at the newspaper.

There's a lesson to prepare for tomorrow morning's Sunday School class.

Everyone around here is hungry; the husband, kid and animals. Our refrigerator looks like a ghost town because I need to go shopping.

There are three calls to return from family members that are probably ready to write me off.

And my house is a wreck.

So how am I spending my evening hours? Most productively, I assure you. See for yourself.

My dearly departed Aunt Marie sported this hairstyle in the 50s. She was quite a dish. But on me? I'd have spent most of my Saturday nights at home with my parents watching Leave it to Beaver.

This looks so much like my Grandma Donaghue that it's a little scary. I doubt she had that wayward lock of hair hanging down the side of her face, though.

I never had a hairdo like this, but if it would've been popular in the 80s, you can bet I'd have been sporting it. It looks like it requires lots of time and hairspray, a combo I embraced back then.

Hmm. This doesn't look like such a far cry from my current mom-do.

Oh boy. I don't know about this one.

And this looks like my senior picture. Do you think the bangs look like a waterfall? That was my intent when I had a hairstyle like this. Mom's still scraping the White Rain off the bathroom walls.

And because I haven't sufficiently wasted enough time, here's dear old Dad. I just happened to have a photo nearby that was begging to be scanned and desecrated.

He had this hairstyle in '98. Only difference was that he embellished it with a perm. Actually, his was a bodywave.