Meth Lab Barbie !!

Too much free time for me allows my creative genius to flourish....and this is one of my prized creations! She is "Meth Lab Barbara" (just in case of copyright issues with the "Barbie" dolls out there!) She comes with a scooter instead of a Corvette or van, due to her many drunk driving convictions. She is also complete with bags to store her psuedoephedrine purchases and an Indiana inspired dirty yard sale clothing wardrobe!

No Hoosier doll collection is complete without her!!!

Family Recipes

I was just perusing my old recipe box. Alone at home in the middle of the night and digging through family recipes typically makes me think of my dead father and his love for cooking. Then I usually end up drowning in a sea of mournful despair...remembering him....thinking of how much I'd love to see him again and share recipes...and tell him how sorry I am for all the mean things I ever said to him. It's a pitiful display of spontaneous sobbing grief. It's a ritual that I should be smart enough to stop recreating!
Tonight is different. I think he'd enjoy this. I'm looking at his recipe for "Pickled Mushrooms". Now this is a recipe that he wrote down for me in his own words. I am writing it down as he did, so be prepared for a few expletives. Here it is.

Pickled Mushrooms

Ingredients: 1/2 cup oil

1/2 cup vinegar

1 Tablespoon Sugar

1 Tablespoon Chopped pimento

1 Tablespoon chopped parsley

1/2 Tablespoon Italian seasoning

4 garlic cloves minced

8 drops hot pepper sauce

1 medium onion sliced into rings

2 4oz jars of Green Giant whole mushrooms drained

Directions: Except onions and mushrooms, place other ingredients in a 1 quart jar and shake until well blended. Then add mushrooms and onions. Chill this crap at least overnight.

For a genuine case of the drizzly shits, double the recipe, don't let anyone else have any and eat both jars while drinking a case of Mickey's Wide Mouths.

Stock up on Charmin!

So there you have it...a family recipe from the master...Mike Jones. I miss my dad so badly sometimes that I don't think I will ever get over his sudden tragic passing. Then I remember what a goofball he was and how much humor and cooking skill he passed down to me. That makes my heart break a little less on nights like this.

The 2008 Flood

I never thought I'd see the day when they would pull a damn boat up to my front door and rescue my family, but I did. This month, we experienced unbelievable flooding. We had nearly ten inches of rain in one night! When my husband and I went out to get into the car to leave for work one Saturday morning, the lightning strikes illuminated the fact that we were stranded! So many homes in our town were destroyed by the rushing water. Our garage was underwater...all our gardens and shed were destroyed. We were fortunate enough that our house didn't get water in it. We had 1/2 inch at all doorways to go! We did have flood insurance....WITH A $5,000 DEDUCTIBLE. FEMA has rejected us. Hopefully an SBA disaster loan will cover it before the mold in our crawlspace takes over. This was our first natural disaster and hopefully it will be our last!

"I feel it in the changing winds" (Jimmy Buffett's words, not Lisa's)

I hate my job. I hate factory life. I took one of those quizzes the other day on rating your "burnout" level. If you scored over 65, it said you were in a SERIOUS DANGER ZONE!!! I scored 82. A couple of weeks back, a coworker and I were giggling at work about a hostage crisis. Let me first say that we were cracking up...neither of us owns a firearm or knows how to use one...I don't even kill spiders...I'm basically harmless but am equipped with a bad temper. Anyhoo....somebody overheard us and turned us in to Human Resources for threatening to shoot people. I was humiliated..but now that the quiz told me I'm dangerous, maybe I should be worried! Just kidding. Really I'm just working on my degree in social work so that I can escape factory life. The career option for sitting on the beach fishing and smoking dope isn't coming up, so college at age 37 seems to be my best option. I need change. I need some thrills. After nine years of a hideous ex-wife in the mix and a group of disgusting stepchildren digging into my sanity and dozens of financial tragedies and homeowners nightmares, it's time for change. I work with this fruitloop who claims to be having a midlife crisis. I don't think that is me. I think I just need some fun. I took my husband to see "Jesus Christ Superstar" last night. Good gracious! How old is Ted Neely anyway?????? That was a start. It was Mr. J's first rock opera and we decided that we need to do more stuff like that. I'm thinking.....should we go to space camp or just check out a different book at the library. So far this week, the biggest thrill besides Ted was the fact that Weight Watchers frozen meals were on sale at Krogers at low, low price of $2.00. Damn...I think I might have peed my pants from the excitement!!! I think that Mr. J and I need to get out more.

For the Love of Dogs

Anna, Betsy, Holly, Annie, Taz, Icky, Rowsby-Woof, Jubal Early, Ruby Slipper, Cooper, Hank. So many dogs have taken residency in my life. They've passed in and out; each leaving a distinct impression on my heart. I can still tell you all their quirks, favorite foods, bad habits, and health problems. I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I can remember the day that Anna bit Jamie Toby on the face. I can remember Betsy sleeping between my parents and the day my Aunt Nancy came over to help with my brother and I because my mom was falling apart over Betsy's death. I remember Annie. God...I remember Annie. Such a sweet Black Lab/Irish Setter mix. My constant companion as a teenager died of lung cancer. Taz was rescued from a parking lot and could fit four squeeky toys in his dachsund mix mouth. He was also a sandwich thief (he only took the top piece of bread!). Icky...the speckled Beagle. After we went to get her, the rest of the litter was left to die in the hot sun. Taz and Icky were sometimes my father's only friends when he was between wives, girlfriends, and benders. Of course Jubal is sitting right next to me...the super dog....the cosmically connected English speaking dog. Ruby, bless her heart, victim to a passing car was here only 13 weeks. Cooper and Hank are about to dedicate their lives to medical research if they don't start pooping OUTSIDE. There is, however, a pooch that stands out above the rest. It's Rowsby-woof. Today is her birthday. She would have been 14. God I miss her and her extreme understanding of me and my heart. I knew she would be gone eventually, but I had no idea of the impact it would have on my life. Isn't it amazing what you choose to put on a back burner? Rest in peace, Miss Woof. Love, Mom

Re"Cooper"ation

Well....here I go again. We brought home another puppy. Her name is Cooper. She is a Cairn Terrier and she has become a serious momma's baby in a matter of four days. She's beautiful and brindle and I can't take my eyes off of her.
She's much feistier than Ruby was. Ruby was very much a little love sponge and pretty complacent for a Cairn Terrier. Cooper is all Cairn! Don't get me wrong...she spends A LOT of time curled up in my arms, but the rest of the time (time when she's not sleeping!) she's beating up on Jubal the giant golden retriever and terrorizing the cats.
She's doing much for my heart, too. Two losses in a short time has torn me up. Cooper is cracking me up and making my heart go pitty pat. A nice turn from the feeling of my heart going kerthud.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Well, here I am...another tragedy under my belt and another brick road on the horizon. I am thinking maybe the yellow one was not the right one. I'm looking to the white one or maybe the blue one this time.
On November 12, 2007....I was sitting in the kitchen while Jubal the Golden Retriever and Ruby the Cairn Terrier were playing in the yard. In a matter of just a few moments, Ruby slipped under the fence and was hit and killed by a car.
She was precious. She was fitting into our life perfectly and was nearly housetrained. I would have to say that she was easing the pain of Rowsby's death in fine fashion and I was completely bonded to that little turd. I cannot describe the pain and torment of that Tuesday morning. I'm trying to put it together for a possible future blog about the deaths of pets. For right now, however, I am at a loss to describe it. I layed in a chair for a week sobbing and wringing my hands. I erected a huge flourescent pink sign in my yard expressing my feelings toward the son of a bitch that murdered my puppy and I sent an open letter to that person to the newspaper. It was published last Sunday. Here it is, in case there might be someone reading my blog who is not a regular subscriber to the Tribune Star.

Heartless driver killed family pet

This is an open letter to the individual who hit and killed my 13-week-old Cairn Terrier near Springhill and Canal on the morning of Monday, Nov. 12.I know you were in a hurry that morning, so you didn’t get a chance to meet the precious creature that you senselessly murdered, so I will tell you a bit about her.Her name was Ruby. She was 13 weeks old and she was a very dear part of our family. She loved stuffed animals, rope bones, Precise puppy food, and any person that walked through our front door. She came to live with our family after our 14-year-old chocolate lab passed away this past fall. Since she came here, she has brought much light and healing to a grieving family after the loss of our senior girl.
I doubt this means much to you. After all, you didn’t even hesitate as her little five-pound body was crushed under your speeding vehicle. She never stood a chance after sneaking under the fence that we mistakenly thought was puppy proof. How many times are we going to wake up at night regretting that we missed a puppy-sized breach in the fence when someone like you was on the way down our street.
She was defenseless against someone like you; someone who couldn’t care less about Cairn Terrier babies and whether or not they are in your way.The next time you are speeding down a street where families live, you need to remember that regardless of any level of isolation or independence that we lay claim to, our actions still affect those along our path.
Maybe you were running late. Maybe you were on the phone. Maybe you were primping in the mirror. Regardless of what was going on in your car that morning, your negligence and selfishness left a gaping hole in our home and in our hearts. One minute, all was right with our world and with Ruby’s. During the next minute, your actions turned that world into a nightmare that we can never wake up from. There have been few things that have impacted our lives more than scooping up a family member whose eyeballs have been popped out after a blow from a heartless passerby.
We miss Ruby terribly. In the few short weeks that we had her with us, we saw her bond with our Golden Retriever, learn to respect the chief tuxedo cat, and almost grasp the concept of going No. 1 and No. 2 outside. She destroyed all the squeakers in all the dog toys, ate a cinnamon broom, and became quite attached to our brown recliner. So much life was lived in 13 weeks, only to be cut short by someone who didn’t seem to care about those who live along the streets that they sped down that morning.
I hope that this is the last time that anything like this happens to our family. If folks would be more inclined to live as if they weren’t the only ones here, maybe this wouldn’t happen to any family.
Slow down on residential streets. Most have 30 mph or lower speed limits for a reason. I think that pets and children who don’t always know what waits for them on busy streets are reason enough for a speed limit. Their lives are worth more than your need to hurry. Your cell phone, makeup, and radio can wait on them with far less impact on your life than their deaths will have on the rest of us.

Personally, I think it's Pulitzer material. I think from now on, anytime my heart is broken, I'm going to publish my pain in the local paper!