Old Blue Socks

I have recently been tagged by The Glass Jar and Boogie Mom to do a meme that was somewhat biographical or of an “about me” type (as meme’s often are), but I have recently been thinking of doing a “100 Things About Me” post and that ended up pretty much covering both.  And then some.  In fact, it took me days and I ended up with 101.

I’d have said that made me an over achiever but that wouldn’t necessarily be true and would have made it 102.

So, if you’re up for it, feel free to learn more about me than you ever really wanted to or needed to by clicking the “About” page above.

Taking an idea from The Glass Jar, our project yesterday was Gingerbread Moms…

I love a day with a good project!  Rainbow and Dolittle were very concerned with making this the most special day ever for me, and they also provided me with lots of homemade treasures and snuggles.

To my fellow mom-readers, Happy Mothers’ Day.  I hope yesterday was special.

Now that we have established that I am so totally in the six degrees game thanks to Andrea, the commenter, being on Oprah’s Sandwich Showdown yesterday, I have to admit that Oprah is not my talk show of choice. I am a fan of Ellen Degeneres. It is my desire to one day get on Ellen’s show by doing some great humanitarian act or submitting a picture of myself & my pet with matching bad hair doos. Either one.

But until either one of those things happens, I am content to watch her show whenever Husband remembers to tape it for me. Which he actually does. Sometimes.

It would seem now that apparently my children also prefer Ellen (though I don’t know that they’d even know who Oprah was). Imagine my surprise to discover that a Barbie, with long flowing golden hair, had recently been turned into “The Ellen Degeneres Action Figure.” And I’m not even making that up.

Add a red cape and maybe some hair product to that baby, and I’m sure she wouldn’t look quite so scarey… although maybe scarey is a good look for an action figure.

So, my message to Ellen (not that she reads this) is that there may be a whole new product market here to go with the underwear and the pet food. Action figures. Maybe action figures that wear nice underwear and save the pets of the world. And if they can make a good sandwich all the better.

You know how when you have a new neighbour and you show up on their doorstep with something you’ve just baked and say “welcome to the neighborhood!”? Now I can’t say I’ve ever done that myself, but I have had it done to me, and let me tell you it was fabulous. Surprises which include tasty snacks are among my favorite.

But what if your neighbour could really cook? What if, for example, they knew how to make the most amazing sandwich on the planet or something? Would you feel like a dork for showing up on their doorstep with your tasty but humble baked goods? If they opened the door and out wafted the delectable aroma of a grilled cheese sandwich to die for, would you high tail your little butt out of there or would you say, “good thing I brought a fork!” (not that I eat sandwiches with a fork but it’s always good to be ready for dessert too).

Where am I going with this?

You may remember my little rant about Curtis Stone, the Take Home Chef. Now I got tons of hits on that particular post… being “Sock Girl” it was not uncommon that people were looking for “Curtis Stone footwear” (although admittedly some blog visitors were disappointed not to find “Curtis Stone naked” here too). Nonetheless, my real beef in that particular post about Curtis Stone was the “make sure you dress up” thing.

So yesterday I got a new comment on the Curtis Stone post that read:

I LOVED your entry about Top Chef! I used to think the same thing, until…

Now you can’t just leave a comment at “until…” Until what? I needed the rest of the story. So a little dashboard digging and I discovered that Andrea is this kind new visitor and a brand new blogger!

And Andrea is creating a cookbook, and she’s opening a restaurant, and (according to Oprah’s website) she’s going to be on Oprah tomorrow making a sandwich with Curtis Stone.

So, Andrea’s blog is new, and I think we should all click that link and go show a little collective blog love, welcome her to the neighborhood, and wish her luck tomorrow (although I’m guessing the show may have been taped already). Bringing tasty snacks is completely optional. (Feel free to send me your tasty snacks if you’re at all intimidated )

And you know that Kevin Bacon has been on Oprah, right??? … I am so totally in the game now… if only I was an actor.

It is going to completely make my day if Andrea wins the challenge tomorrow. Good luck!

I think it’s G*ds way of reminding us how out of shape we really are.

45 minutes of hauling out dead foilage and today I feel like I’m 80! And I’m not even close to being done.

Remind me again why I was so anxious for spring….

Bathroom humour has gotten a little out of hand at our house of late, and it seems to have crossed the line. I’m not going to point fingers (or noses as it were) at anyone in particular, but suffice it to say that certain bodily gases were being used as a weapon (ie, to push the buttons of others) rather than discretely dealt with in a manner which did not violate the respect of others (or their ability to stay comfortably in the same room, as the case might be). It was time for drastic measures.

We have now instituted a Toot Toll. One must pay $.25 to each person in the room should you make the conscious decision to let ‘er rip in the company of others. And people governed by this new rule have been sufficiently warned that Sock Girl will really keep your money if you choose to offend. The bathroom is a free zone so you better keep your ears open and your nose closed if you’re in there brushing your teeth. Your personal bedroom is also a free zone provided you have given anyone else in the room fair warning. (Not sure how that will work out when one of the most offensive aromas can be produced by someone who shares a room with yours truly).

Interestingly, this plan (knock wood) seems to be working beautifully. The person typically whining about the acts of others is now raking in the bucks and thinking this was the best plan ever. Time will tell.

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In other news, as I was leaving for work yesterday, my girls were chasing the dog with a Q-tip so they could swab his mouth for a sample of DNA.

Do you think they’re sneaking down at night and watching CSI? I’m pretty sure DNA rarely comes up on the Treehouse channel.

May is shaping up to be busy, with loads on the kids’ calendars, and a variety of tests I need to take for jobs I’ll never get. And goodness knows what will be added to the plate as the month goes on. I need a nap just thinking about it. Of course, usually a busy life means there is something to blog about.

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I had this small object that I have been carrying around in my purse for years. While I have had plenty of opportunity to use it in some capaicty, I suppose, I have been saving it, because I might really need it for its intended purpose some day.

And last night I was sitting beside a woman who, by coincidence, revealed in a conversation that she needed just this thing, for just its purpose. Things had not gone her way recently, and her resources were tapped. I had the capacity to help her in a very small way if I just reached down and pulled out my handbag. So it was really a no brainer.

As I passed her the object, she was of course surprised. “I can’t take that!” she said.

“I’ve had it in my purse since Jesus wore sandals,” I told her. “I want you to have it.”

She took it, put it in her pocket, and told me her birthday is Saturday.

The entire brief exchange has lightened my heart in a number of ways. Yes, of course it feels good to do something for someone, but it’s more than that. It’s that we are on this path where chance encounters can have meaning. It’s the fact that sometimes it takes a very long time for something to have direction or purpose. It’s renewed hope.

I may be short one object, but I seem to be ahead in many more ways. …Maybe May will bring something wonderful after all.

Why is it that the same child who will NOT perform on the last day of musical theatre class will break out dancing in the bread aisle of the grocery store if she likes the song that’s playing?

Last night I was awakened by Rainbow screaming for me.  I raced up the creaking stairs to find that she had had a bad dream about a bee chasing her.  After searching the bed to ensure the bee was a dream, she drifted back off to sleep as I snuggled her.

So, as is my usual routine, when 5am came, I went back downstairs to turn up the heat and turn on the dryer and lie back down in my own bed while I waited for things to warm up.  Only my bed was now occupied by Dolittle.

Now, I don’t mind that I had to get up through the night.  And I don’t mind that Dolittle decided she’d be cozier in my bed.  What is really bugging me though is that she managed to get all the way down the incredibly creaking stairs without my hearing her.  And I was upstairs at the time… upstairs where there is no hall… just stairs and her room and her sister’s room.  It is just not possible to walk these stairs silently.  I have tried many times.  And I took comfort in the fact that they were so noisy it was like having a baby monitor for night time journeys.  This was going to serve me well in the teen years.  And I slept right through it when it was nearly beside me.  This is really troubling.  I’m thinking my children may need to sleep wearing cow bells now.

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In other news, Mother Nature needs a good nights’ sleep too.  It snowed yesterday.  I should not be waking up to snow covered ground on April 25th.  It’s April showers that bring May flowers, not April flurries.  This is just wrong people!  Wrong!