The Curtain

It was winter… a few years ago.

Winter as an elementary teacher means lots of runny, snotty noses followed by coughs and sneezes. When you teach the little ones, daily life at school becomes a lot of …”Teacher! I love you!!”...”I’m sick!”…cough, sneeze, wipe nose with hand, smear snot on arms, run to teacher to show your undying affection.

In order to combat the germs, we, as a class, did lots of hand washing and desk wiping… and for added fun, and cleanliness, I’d have the kids wipe down their chairs and pencils too. For awhile I even had the students bend down to sneeze on their shoes. It was far better than having them sneeze on their hands and arms and they thought it was a fun game. I actually had the least amount of sick students that year.

But one memory returns to me time and time again and always gives me such a laugh.

The class was busy working on their math assignment for the day. I was rotating around the room assisting students that needed help. My assistants were also roaming around the classroom helping other students that called for aid.

One of my more interesting students, who was always well spoken, clearly had a cold affecting him this day. One of my assistants was counseling this child on cleanliness and the art of using a tissue when one has a runny nose.

“You need to go wash your hands. If you have a runny nose, you need to use a tissue! Don’t sit at your desk and dig and dig and dig…it’s not clean!”

“But I had stuff in my nose that I needed to get out!”

“Well, you have to use a tissue!”

I chuckled to myself as I listened to this conversation in the distance.

So math class continued and a few moments later, I looked over to check on the student with the nose issues. Ever so carefully, he was doing just as he was told: using a tissue to address his runny nose.

He was holding up the tissue as a curtain with one hand, while digging in his nose with the other!

I had to laugh.

Apparently blowing his nose with the tissue just wasn’t going to work, but he wanted to make sure he was doing what he was told and used the tissue.

Kids are so funny.

Carb-o-holic

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I'm addicted to carbs. I could never survive on Atkins. I have a hard time even thinking about others being on Atkins. The mere thought of giving up carbs makes me want to cuddle with a loaf of bread.

Tonight I'm making homemade fries. I snacked on french bread and crackers and a few croutons while I cut them up. I'm making fresh rolls tonight for the turkey burgers that we're having for dinner along with the fries.

I used to drive an hour to pick my husband up from work a few years ago. It was ~an hour each direction. On days when traffic was light, I loved stopping by my favorite deli in the world and getting a freshly made baguette and some of their cheese/pistachio/garlic spread. I'd sit in the car waiting for my husband to come out to meet me and just snack to my little heart's content.

I love toast in the morning. Bread and cheese or crackers and cheese for snacks. I love rolls with dinner. Potatoes, rice...you name it.

I'd rather eat less of something than give it up. I'd rather exercise by taking evening walks with a coffee in hand or go for a midday stroll to take in some fresh air to make up for what I eat.

And now I wait with great anticipation for the fresh fries I'll be eating tonight. And I'm off for a walk so I can thoroughly enjoy them!

Do They Really Think We Don't Know?

For a year now almost, I have found it to be rather comical that my tenants feel the need to blare their music when they are doing the deed. I mean, I can't see through the floor, obviously, but do they really think that when they crank up the stereo one night a week at a late hour for about 20 minutes and then turn it back down, that we're going to think they are simply playing a few of their favorite songs?

They are adults. They are married. They're going to be intimate I presume since the wife mentioned that are wanting children...but why blare the music?

Just to clarify: We can't hear anything that goes on in our tenant's living space...except for music when they blare it. So unless they never make noise, unless it's one of those times I don't think we'd really hear any of their going-ons without the music.

And an added note of agreement: David, I have to say I was thinking the same thing. You'd think the music would last for longer than 20 minutes...whether it was needed or not. And MoatesGarage, I had to call my husband at work to tell him your suggestion of borrowing their CD...was a good laugh!

Salty Sweet

I've been stressed out lately. Are we moving? If so, where? If not, how will I change the house? Will we remodel? When will the nice weather come? When will the snow stop? When will the baby start walking? Will the dog ever stop shedding? Why does laundry build up so quickly? Are we getting a new car? How long until the ice on the driveway melts? Will we hire movers if we move? How will we get all this heavy furniture down the stairs if we don't hire someone? Maybe we won't even need movers if we don't move...

And the cycle continues.

Me + stress = food. I want to feed the world when I get stressed out.

So needless to say, the family has eaten well this week.

Last night though, we went out to dinner. I ordered a much needed house margarita and asked for the ever-so-loved heavily salted glass rim. It's usually a request that's never filled, but last night our waitress did a beaitful job of salting that rim so thickly that it was even overboard for my own saltoholic tastebuds.

I left the restaurant tequila happy with a tongue on fire.

But that has left me craving sweets today. What better combo than sweet to follow salt!...

So today I made a double crunch pie....chocolate creme filling, chocolate creme cookies crumbled with peanutbutter chips and chocolate chips sprinkled on top, all in a chocolate cookie crust.

I've eaten too many cookies and licked the bowl clean of the left over chocolate creme.

And...now...I...feel...sick.

I wish I was one of those people that just wanted to exercise nonstop when stress became abundant.

Hold That Pose

Ever since I was a child, I've enjoyed taking pictures. I have boxes upon boxes of pictures that I've taken throughout my life....from elementary school to the present. While home over the holidays, I even found some pictures that I took in a summer school class when I was in the sixth grade where we learned how to develop pictures in a blackroom. So I guess you could say, me holding a camera was, and continues to be, a common sight.

It's nice to have so much of my past documented. Albeit, there are many arm, nose, and random nothingness photos. Goodness knows what I was doing when I snapped those shots. Now it's something I enjoy doing just for fun rather than needing an event to take pictures of.

I take my camera with me on my walks and am forever looking for the picture. I love it when I find it. It wasn't until I started blogging that I decided to share my photos with the Internet.

There's quite a few to see, and I know a good portion of my readers have looked at my photos and sent emails to me (and I thank you for that!), but let me share the archive links in case you are new or want to take another peek. I started posting in October and have continued sharing through November, December, and now January.

I can't imagine I'll ever lose my passion for pictures.

Refreshed

I know I've been saying I'm sick of the snow, but I just got back from a walk and it was really nice outside. It was cold, but not too cold...lightly snowing, soft chilled breeze.

Everyone I met or passed was in a good mood too it seemed.

So, for today, and just today...I liked the snow.

What's Your Burner?

While cooking dinner last night I realized that I am definately a back burner cook. If I'm not using all four burners on the stovetop, I use the back burners instead of the front ones. I'm not sure why I do this. So it got me to wondering if other people have burner preferences? Do you prefer the front burners to the back ones? Left burners over the right burners?

What's your burner?

The Layers Are Killing Me

We must have had 14 inches of snow over the weekend. Yuck!

I'm the type of person who loves to wear jeans and be barefoot with a t-shirt on. I don't like having to blow dry my hair. I don't like having cold feet. I would rather not wear a coat.

I love being able to be outside and go for walks.

I want to feel the warm sun on my face and a breeze through my hair that won't make my earrings freeze and my ears ache.

I'd rather see palm trees instead of snowy trees.

Coats, sweaters, gloves, hats, scarves, socks, layers, and layers, and layers....snow, cold, and more snow, and more cold, and wind that hurts your face.

I've had enough!!

I Wonder

I really wonder why some nights people remember their dreams, and other nights it's as if you didn't dream at all.

Almost every night this week, I've woke up remembering my dreams clearly.

Are dreams a mere rehash of events from your day/life/conscious thoughts? Or is there more to it than that?

Do they stay glued into your memory because you are supposed to pull some sort of realization from them? Or did you just happen to wake up in a cycle of dreamland that allowed you to recall?

I wonder.

Those Cookies!

Well, I did make those cookies yesterday. They turned out a tad bigger than I figured! Mammoth cookies really....

Only four fit on a cookie sheet!



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The yummy marshmellow filling was peeking through just to make sure you knew it was there for the eating.

Then I frosted them...



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The munchkin thought they were pretty neat and wanted one all to herself. They met the approval of my husband with a simple, "These cookies are really good!"...followed by an almost out of breath, "DAMN!"

I really didn't think they'd turn out so big. I was dancing and being silly with the baby while I made them, and I guess I wasn't paying close attention to how I formed them. When the batch only made six cookies, I should have known. It wasn't until I opened the oven to take the first four out that a wild, "OH $H!T!" came flying out of my mouth.