Would You Rather

28 02 2006

I love playing that game. You know the one. You come up with two horrific scenarios and ask a friend – or stranger for that matter – which one they would rather have happen to them.

It’s a perfect ice breaker. A great way to get to know someone.

“Would You Rather” could be successfully used as a quick way to weed through the dating pool.

“Would you rather sleep with George Bush or John Kerry?”

“Janet Reno or Margaret Thatcher?”

“Fall 10 stories and half way down catch your eyelid on a nail or have three toenails pulled out by a large man with needle nose pliers?”

“Never be able to speak again or only be able to speak an completely unknown language that no one else understands.”

You can see how you could gleen all important things about a person this way. Right?

Well, Sophie and I were playing the other day. With children it is sort of important to not have sexual references or gory scenarios. “Would you rather live in a tent or a cave?” is a good one for children. (Just so you know….)

She came up with one that stunned me. I still haven’t decided on my answer.

“Would you rather be a worm on a sidewalk while girls are playing jump rope or lick peanut butter of of a hobo’s foot?”

No hobos were harmed in the writing of this post.



27 02 2006

Back at the ranch it is calving season.

It is also -37 F. That’s right, that’s negative 37. Fahrenheit.

Little wet afterbirth-y calves sometimes don’t do that well in extremely cold conditions – as you can imagine. Amazingly, many do just fine. But the ones that need it are getting some pretty great treatment about now.

I was talking to my sister (newly home from Antarctica. Hi!) who relayed the following story.

The cold calves are being hauled to my Mom’s house and put in the mudroom (thank God for mudrooms). The floors have radiant heat which slowly warms the calf without shocking it. My brother’s kids, Rhiannon (6) and Lars (3), are in charge of rubbing the baby calf down with towels. This stimulates and warms the baby.

Plus, it’s just a fun thing to do.

The kids have decided that this gives them naming rights, and they fight over this right amongst themselves.

A few days ago two calves came in while Lars was there alone. This gave him clear and inarguable rights to naming.

And, well….. he is at that stage when learning new words – sometimes kind of “forbidden” words – is really taking hold.

He named them Fart and Penis.

This is Lars, calf’s name unknown.

Hypothesis – I Believe That Megan Will Be Proven To Be A Snotty Show Off

24 02 2006

She got……….(drumroll)……….



Actually, she was very disappointed. But I turned her around. They were only sending 15 projects from the entire school. I pointed that out to her a few times AND shared the fact that I did absolutely terrible projects as a child. Her’s blew anything that I ever did way out of the water.

But, there was one problem she hasn’t quite gotten over.

You see, my former friend Megan has three kids in Maya’s Elementary School. Every damn one of them moved on to the district Science Fair.

Let’s see – 15 kids. All 3 of hers are going. Do I feel a mathematical formula coming on?????

x=percentage of school Megan’s uterus is personally responsible for representing at the district science fair


Holy crap! Her kids make up 20% of our elementary school’s representation.


Einstein Needs To Step OFF

22 02 2006
The Finished Science Fair Project


The Guinea Pig prefers the Orange over the Grape!

Who knew????!!!!!

PS – Set up is tonight, judging tomorrow during the day and awards tomorrow night! Wish her luck!

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things…

17 02 2006

Just for the record, I would like something like this next Valentine’s Day….

or this…
or this….

If you haven’t been to www.foundmagazine.com yet – go. These are just some examples of what you’ll find there. I could spend hours on that site.


16 02 2006

I was shopping for construction paper at the Dollar Store last night and realized that I truly love that store.

The kitsch is so so so very fantastic. I could spend hours there.

As I have said before, Sophie loves the ceramic figurines and has amassed quite a collection. Here is her latest find.

There are two more in the series. This one is named “Love” and she is saving up for “Faith” and “Hope”.

Good God. I have “faith” that there is no “hope” for the child due to her “love” of crappy knick-knacks.

But the biggest find of the night was two racks of personalized items.

There were notepads. There were pens. With names! And sayings!

I have just started in a new position at my company and work closely with two other people. I have found they are just as sick and twisted as I am. So naturally I thought that they might enjoy having an extremely dorky notepad and matching pen with their name on it. Their names were there – Candice and Daniel. But Shari? Shari is never there. There is Sherry, Sherri and Sheri, but never Shari.

That’s when I decided we all needed aliases anyway.

According to our notepads I am “Savannah”, Candice is “Marissa”, and Daniel is “Rick”. My pen tells the world I am “Born to Shop”, Candice is a “Bingo Mama” and Daniel is a “#1 Bowler”. And if you thought it couldn’t get any better than that….. along the bottom of our notepad are cutesy little pictures.

“Rick” has soccer balls.

“Marissa” has ponies and horses.

And “Savannah”? Dogs with hats.

Yeah. Dogs with hats.

I have no idea where that came from. But that is the beauty of the Dollar Store.

What would your notepad and pen say?

Advice For Dick Cheney From My Eight Year Old

16 02 2006

Maya wakes up every morning at 5:30 A.M. so she can spend time with me. She lays on the couch and keeps an eye on the traffic report while I run around the house getting things ready for the day. (Even though I am taking the train now, she still keeps a vigilant eye out for any information on the Hwy. 167 congestion.)

Today, between traffic reports, she saw a news story about the Dick Cheney shooting incident. She walked into the kitchen with a perplexed look on her face.

She said, “Mommy, did you know the Vice President shot his friend?”

“Yes, honey. That was a bad accident, wasn’t it?”

(I am serious about quoting this next passage because it was so profound that after I stopped laughing hysterically, I wrote it down…”)

“Well, yes, but even I know…..

  1. Never go hunting.
  2. Never hunt with a gun.
  3. Never point a gun at your friend and accidentally shoot him.”

While she was making her point, she was actually holding up one, two, then three fingers to emphasize her point.

Adults sometimes miss the simple, logical things – don’t they?