Turkey hangover

On the first day after Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me...
...leftover turkey!

Hooray!

On the second day after Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me...
...more leftover turkey!

More turkey! Yummy!

On the third day after Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me...
...still more leftover turkey!

Uh...great!... Would someone please eat the last of this turkey! (burf!)

On the fourth day after Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me...
...more $#@%&*! leftover turkey!

NO NO NO!!! NO MORE FREAKIN' TURKEY! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE!!!

Forget the turkey - I'm making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Picture: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Aspirin.jpg

Thanksgiving update
In the immortal words of Hubby’s cousin from Missouri, “Fuller than a seven day tick," Thanksgiving was a success! Urp!

Pumpkin pie improv
More true tales of holiday cooking mishaps.

We were newlyweds so when hubby mentioned he was craving a pumpkin pie before the official Thanksgiving holiday I naturally offered to make him one. Hubby said, “Tell me the ingredients you need and I’ll go to the store and buy them for you.” What girl could refuse such an offer?

I gave him the list and sent him off to the store but when he returned I discovered that instead of buying the Pillsbury pre-made pie dough I requested, he bought a frozen pie shell. I’d never used a frozen pie shell before.

No big deal – improvisation is my middle name. I took the wrapper off the pie shell, mixed up the ingredients and poured the orangey goop into the shell. A short time later the pie was done. We let it cool and then it was time to cut our first pumpkin pie slice of the season. But there was something wrong. The knife cut through the pie filling like butter but would not cut through the bottom of the pie crust. Perplexed, I tried again and wiggled the knife and forth. Strangely, the entire pie filling separated from the pie shell.

I peered down at the pie. What sort of trickery is this? That’s when I noticed the tiny edge of plastic peeking out from underneath the pie filling. Unbeknownst to me, the frozen pie crust had a plastic disc that sat in the bottom of the shell. I did not see it when I removed the outer plastic. Hubby was doubled over with laughter.

DMG: You think that’s funny? Watch this Mr. Smartypants!

I lifted up the pie filling with a knife and with my finger tips gingerly took hold of the edge of the plastic disc. Like a magician doing the tablecloth trick, I quickly yanked the plastic out from under the pie filling without so much as jiggling the glossy sheen on top of the pie.

HUBBY: Wow! I can’t believe you did that! That was great!

DMG: I’m full of surprises.

We still ate the pie. It was delicious!

Picture: www.wikipedia.com

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here's a quickie true turkey tale for your holiday enjoyment.

The Turkey Stuffing King
My Dad is an expert turkey stuffing stuffer – the Turkey Stuffing King. Nobody can pack, wedge, squeeze, stuff, ram, shove (up past his elbows if need be), and cram bread up a turkey like my Dad.

I remember one Thanksgiving – Mom had finished making the mountain of stuffing. The entire house smelled of sage and melted butter. It was time for Dad to stuff the turkey. It was like watching a wrestling match, at times you weren’t sure who was winning, but in the end Dad won. The only thing left to do was to suture up the back of the turkey to hold the stuffing in place.

Something I need to mention here - it wasn’t until I was a sophomore in high school I realized my family was different from others. Most families don’t sew up their turkeys using medical equipment. Dad, a doctor – long retired, saved his suturing kit from medical school and uses it to sew turkeys shut after stuffing them. Dad’s suturing jobs are a work of art. You could go bowling with one of his turkeys and those stitches would hold.

Back to my story - Dad tied the final stitch and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Mom walked over, dish rag in hand, and scanned the counter, “Where’s the rest of the stuffing?” “It’s all in there,” said Dad as he pointed to the turkey. “You’re kidding?” said Mom. “All of it?” “Yup! I got it all in this year.” Mom eyed the bulging turkey suspiciously. Dad beamed with pride. “Okay then. Let’s get it in the oven,” she said. Who was she to question the “King” of turkey stuffing.

A few hours later, the smell of turkey drifted lazily through the house, a silent drum roll to the meal that was to come. Mom went to the oven to check on the turkey, “I think the turkey might be done,” she called out to no one in particular. She opened the oven door and peered inside….silence…a puzzled look….and then a startled “Oh!…Oh my!” and then finally, comprehension…”Oh…”

Dad had indeed outdone himself. His turkey packing, turkey-suturing job that year had been a masterpiece. Every crevice, every inch of that turkey was crammed full of stuffing. Every stitch was perfect; stuffing tight, suture tight…airtight… hence the problem. As the turkey cooked – the stuffing inside the bird happily simmering away – there was no place for the steam to go. And like a balloon slowly inflating, the bird had simply…. exploded. The carnage inside the oven told the tale. One half of the turkey was a beautiful golden brown, moist and delicious; the other – a mangled mash of turkey and stuffing, turkey meat ripped from the breastbone. It was like the aftermath of a kill scene from Mutual of Omaha’s: Wild World of Animals.

We didn’t take our traditional Thanksgiving picture of the turkey that year - I really wish we had. An experience like that would cause lesser men to lose their edge, but not Dad. Dad still likes his stuffing in the turkey and he is still the Turkey Stuffing King.

Picture: www.wikipedia.com

Mommy magic

I wanted to have a picture of a magic wand or something for this post. Warning! When you Google "magic wand," you come across some very innnnnnteresting things that have nothing to do with magic in the traditional watch-me-pull-a-rabbit-out-of-my hat sense. Yikes!

The morning started off quietly - had my coveted second cup of coffee, read the paper, picked up the kitchen, vacuumed a little. Hubby was outside doing some much needed yard work and little girl was watching cartoons.

I finished up the last of my mommy jobs and glanced at the clock. It was about time I started to get ready. I needed to meet the other clowns at the hospital about 12:30 and I hadn’t showered yet. I’m getting faster in my transformation from mommy to clown but it’s not really something you want to rush through – take the time to do it right, as Mr. Rogers always used to say.

All I want for Christmas is a sensory deprivation chamber
Enjoyed a nice hot shower with only the sound of water raining down on me – no, “Honey, where’s my….” or “Mommy? What are you doing?” Bliss! But nothing lasts forever. I cracked open my clown makeup. On cue, darling daughter appeared in the doorway.

Mommy? Can I watch you? What’s this? What’s that? I want this. I want that. Can I sit here? Will you get me my stool? I need to go potty. What are we eating for dinner? What day is it?….blah blah blah blah blah blah blah….

…sigh…

By now Hubby had finished the yard work and came upstairs. He shooed little girl out so I could have some peace and quiet. Then he sat down and suddenly it’s the flip side of the same record.

I cleaned up the back yard. Couldn’t do the hill - ran out of yard bags. I was thinking we should have brats for dinner. Thought they sounded good. What do you think? Do brats sound good to you? When do you need to leave? When will you be back? INSERT RANDOM SPORTS TRIVIA….blah blah blah blah blah blah…

…double sigh…

Putting on clown makeup is not rocket science. It’s not like I’m performing complex algebraic calculations (can’t do that at all; X = hell if I know) but it is the first step to getting into character so it requires some focus – mental and physical. It’s also when I start to get nervous. My hand shakes a little when I draw the lines on my mouth. Not really a good time for distractions.

Surround sound
I finished my makeup, got dressed and headed downstairs. I wasn’t hungry (nerves) but figured I better eat something before I left so I ate a hotdog with a knife and fork and drank a diet Coke through a straw so I wouldn’t mess up my makeup.

DAUGHTER: Mommy, are you a clown?

HUBBY: Iowa plays Minnesota today...

DAUGHTER: Do a magic trick! Do a magic trick!

HUBBY: Then Michigan and Ohio State play…

DAUGHTER: Are you nervous?

HUBBY: Should be a good game. I hope they show the sousaphone dot the “I”…

DAUGHTER: Where are you going?

HUBBY: That’s a huge tradition….SPORTS TRIVIA…SOMETHING ABOUT A DEAD GUY…

DAUGHTER: Mommy, can I go too?

HUBBY: When you get back, I’ll go to the store…

DAUGHTER AND HUBBY: …blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah….

I sat between them and listened and responded to two different conversations simultaneously, while in my head I practiced some of my clown gags.

Multitasking - without a doubt, it's gotta be the best magic trick I know.

Hospital clowning went just fine - had a lot of fun. Next month - clown caroling!

Quick and dirty

Tired tonight…
Long day…
Don’t feel like writing but this was too weird not to post.

Did this cat breed with a dog?

This is Mimi, the first cat to give birth to puppies, her owner claims.
Brazilian Cassia Aparecida de Souza, 18, says three of the cat’s six offspring, which were born three months after Mimi mated with a neighbour’s dog, have canine traits.

So what should we call them?

Kuppies?
Pittens?
Pupkins?

Getting my clown on – Round Two

This Saturday marks another major milestone for my clown. I will be joining a group of clowns (not sure how many) for some hospital clowning.

The last time I put on my clown threads I took darling daughter out trick-or-treating…not really a high stress situation as far as clowning goes. My last real clown performance – and let’s be honest here, my only real clown performance – was way back on Oct. 24. That’s like a life time ago.

Pushing my comfort zone once again
I’m anxiously excited (excitedly anxious?) for this next clown adventure. Having done this once before, the fear of the unknown does not weigh as heavily on my mind. However – this clown gig brings with it a few new twists, a few things that if I think about it too much it sends the nervous butterflies to fluttering.

1. New situation – Hospital clowning will be as different as night and day from the first time I clowned in the party goods store. I won’t have balloons to fall back on since the hospital won’t allow them. That means the gags/magic better be good. Secondly, the audience is captive – they won’t be wandering all over the place like in the store so less chaotic. Might make the initial approach easier but there could be a greater risk for bombing. The clowns are front and center – no where to run, no where to hide.

2. Unfamiliar faces – Unless some former classmates show up (and I will have no way of knowing until I get there) I will be with a group of clowns I don’t know. My Instructor Dude clown can’t go on Saturday. I met the lead hospital clown once before but only briefly. I could be all by my little lonesome with no safe and familiar faces for security blanket purposes.

3. Greater Expectations – When I clowned the first time, I kept my expectations very low. It was my first time – I was a newbie. But now that I’ve done this once before I would personally like to see some improvement from myself. That’s how I’ve always been…I try not to compare myself to other people, I compete against myself. So with this next outing, I would really like to see some progress in either my confidence level or performance.

Other clown news
My clown is officially out of the closet. I’ve had two people approach me in the last week or so about doing some clowning – one for a church fund raiser and one for just some balloon work. I’m happy to do both – I need all the practice I can get.

I can now do two – yes, TWO – magic tricks! The new one still needs a little work but I was able to fool darling daughter when I did it for her the other night.

Holiday count down – a public service announcement

Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away. Christmas is close behind. Are you ready? I mean, really REALLY ready to face the holidays? The shopping? The decorating? The cooking? The out of town guests? The needless PC hand wringing and social angst?

As a public service, I will repost two links from last year. I hope you will find them useful during your holiday preparations.

• Holiday schmoliday and angst over the "C" word
  (Bonus! Includes Holiday Greetings Disclaimer!)
  
  
• Putting the “fun” back in “dysfunctional”: A Holiday Survival Guide
  (Advice for crazy and non-crazy relatives)

I’m sure I’ll have new holiday rants to post at some point but this will do for now.

Huzzah!

Eat drink and be merry for the good Qwest Knight hath bravely fought and slayed the dragon, the most foul and evil beast that hath plagued our DSL connection for a fortnight! Raise your tankards for a jubilant toast and with lusty voices sing praises to the valiant knight!

Oo-de-lally! Oo-de-lally! A bonnie lass am I!!!









Picture: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Stgeorge-dragon.jpg

Doing my civic doody

There are always too many Democratic congressmen, too many Republican congressmen, and never enough U.S. congressmen.
~Author Unknown

Yup - I voted. Who did I vote for? For that answer, please refer to my other web site, noneofyourdamnbusiness.com. ;-)

Unlike Nancy Dancehall's election day blues, my voting experience was mostly uneventful....mostly. The one thing I always have trouble with is the first part when they look up my name in the great big book of voters.

What's in a name?
When Hubby and I were married, my whimsical/independent nature decided to keep my maiden name and do the hyphenated last name thing, JONES-SMITH. My last name is actually hyphenated without the hyphen (JONES SMITH), which really blows people's minds but I'll save that for another post.

My reasons for doing so were part personal and part professional. I had several years of work experience/writing under my maiden name and I didn't want to disconnect myself from that body of work. It's usually not a big deal but occasionally it causes some vexation such as on election day.

I walked up to the table and gave the poll worker my last name. Names have been changed to protect the guilty:

DMG: (cheerfully) My last name is JONES SMITH. It's a hyphenated name.

PW#1: (cheerfully) Oh! Then you are probably listed under "S" for Smith.

DMG: (cheerfully) Actually, I'm guessing you'll probably have me listed under "J."

PW#1: (cheerfully to PW#2) Would you look this woman up under "S" for me?

PW #2: (cheerfully) Certainly!

DMG: (still cheerful) I really think I'll be listed under "J". My full name is DMG JONES SMITH. The last name is JONES SMITH. I have trouble with this every year.

PW#2: (cheerfully but confused) Huh, I'm not finding her!

PW#1: (confused but still cheerful) Really? Let me see.

Both PWs now have their noses in the wrong book.

DMG: (cheerful but faking it) I bet if you look in the "Js" I'll be right there. See, they always list me under "J" because the last name JONES SMITH begins with a "J."

SIDE NOTE: This election day moment was brought to you by the letters S and T and U and P and I and D!

PW#2: (still irritatingly cheerful) She's not in the "S" book!

PW#1: (surprised and irritatingly cheerful) Really? Okay - I guess I'll try my book.

DMG: (wishing I had a cyanide capsule in my purse but maintaining fake smile) I'm positive I'm in the "Js." This happens all the time.

PW#1: (with cheerful surprise) Well, here you are right here! How about that!

DMG: (fake cheerfulness and sincere relief) Great! Thanks!

The poll workers were long on nice but short on listening comprehension. Did they not hear me? Or did they just not want to pay attention to what I had to say? They didn't seem like the poll-worker-on-a-power-trip type. Is a hyphenated name that difficult of a concept to grasp?

Crazy eight

It's our anniversary today - eight crazy years of wedded bliss! Hubby likes to tell the joke, "Only feels like eight minutes....under water!" He's such a kidder...

You are kidding, right? ;-)

When we decided to get married we made a pact, "You and me against the world." Over the past eight years, the world has certainly dished it out - sucker punched us and knocked us down a few times - but courageously (or foolishly) we stood back up again.

• Financial woes
• Job trauma
• Health scares
• Parental challenges (sleepless nights, terrible twos, potty training, sassy fours)
• Crazy in-laws
• Tears and fears

It's been good and bad, crazy and wonderful but without a doubt we've had more laughter than tears.

Happy Anniversary Hubby!
I love you! Thank you for the roses!

Speaking of crazy...

I had a dream last night. Remember the show Perfect Strangers? In my dream, Cousin Larry opened a restaurant (pizza place) and was making money hand over fist. His gimmick? He was collecting dead raccoons, road kill, and using them to make the food - raccoon road kill pizza.

In my dream, it made perfect sense. What great idea! How clever of him and how happy I was he was making so much money! And the pizza? It was quite tasty!

...Burf!...

What's up with that?!?!?!?

Accent-uate the positive

I found this intriguing little quiz courtesy of the Laughing Frog. I thought for sure my accent was all screwed up: Born in Philadelphia, lived in South Jersey, went to high school in Colorado, and graduated from college in Iowa where I have stayed ever since. Surely…surely my South Jersey accent was nothing more than a colorful memory. I guess not…

What American accent do you have? Your Result: Philadelphia Your accent is as Philadelphian as a cheesesteak! If you're not from Philadelphia, then you're from someplace near there like south Jersey, Baltimore, or Wilmington. if you've ever journeyed to some far off place where people don't know that Philly has an accent, someone may have thought you talked a little weird even though they didn't have a clue what accent it was they heard.
The Northeast
The Midland
The Inland North
The South
Boston
The West
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

How is this possible? I left New Jersey when I was 14, the summer before I started high school. I told hubby about my quiz results.

HUBBY: What did you need to take a quiz for? I could have told you that.

I guess you can take the girl out of Jersey…

I had to laugh when I read the comments on the quiz:

If you've ever journeyed to some far off place where people don't know that Philly has an accent, someone may have thought you talked a little weird even though they didn't have a clue what accent it was they heard.

When I first moved to Colorado, the first question people would ask me (usually two sentences into the conversation) was, "Where are you from?" One day, a friend of mine came home with me after school. My mom stopped in the room to say hello and chatted for a minute. When she left, my friend turned to me with eyes the size of dinner plates and asked:

FRIEND: Is your mom BRITISH?!?!?!

DMG: Uh....no...

Must have been the Philly accent that threw her...but British? You've got to be kidding me!!!

There is another…SKYWALKER!

One of the nice things about working in downtown Des Moines is our beautiful skywalk system. It can be -20F outside and you can walk blocks without having to set one tender toe outside if you don’t want to.

The skywalks also make it very convenient for downtown workers with limited time to take a brisk walk over a lunch hour or for a mid afternoon brain break. I walk with a friend or by myself. I don’t mean to sound antisocial but I sometimes prefer to walk by myself (not all the time, just sometimes). It’s a great way to blow out the cobwebs and organize my thoughts.

It also makes it easier to hear the voices in my head...

Random thoughts from a skywalker
I walked my usual loop on Wednesday by myself. Alone with my thoughts, my brain was free to wander (thankfully, it eventually wandered back to me).

1. If you walk through the skywalk level of the Savory Hotel, look for the ceramic lambs. A very naughty person colored one of the lamb’s eyes red.

2. The Savory Hotel plays big band 1940-ish music on their overhead sound system. It puts a smile on my face every time.

3. Here it is Nov. 1. We’ve barely digested the Halloween candy and they already have Christmas decorations up?!?! What happened to Thanksgiving?

4. Listening to my boots on the tile floor, I noticed one goes “click”, the other goes “clunk.” Is it the shoe? Is my gait? Is it the echo? If I put my shoes on opposite feet would it make any difference?

5. Why does the skywalk Brueggers Bagels always smell like feet?

6. People who walk by themselves wearing their hands-free cell phone ear piece and have perfectly normal, natural phone conversations are weird.

7. I either walk too fast or the automatic sliding doors are too slow.

8. Just how many e-mails do I need to delete from my work mailbox so I stop getting nasty notes from IT?

9. Who needs an iPod when I have Get Happy stuck in my head – Judy Garland’s version, not The Partridge Family theme song. Forget your troubles…Come on get happy…You better chase all you cares away… I don’t always have that particular song in my head, I just usually have a song of some kind stuck in my head.

10. On my way back to the office, I ran into the colleague I spent 5+ hours with in the Chicago airport while we were waiting for our delayed flight back to Des Moines. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks. As luck would have it, I was wearing the exact same sweater I was wearing in the airport. Yes – I have washed it since then.

Wiped out
Hubby turned in his mid-term for one of his graduate classes. It was a take home test that took him 15+ hours to complete. He should have his grade back early next week.

One more funny thing: Listen to this parody of Frank Sinatra singing Strangers on My Flight. Song should automatically begin to play.

Swing it Frank!