Kitty Crack

Trinity has long commented that Kashmir doesn't play. She sleeps. She rarely even gets a little pep in her step. We both suffer from an affliction known as lethargy. I have long since accepted this, but he has not. He thinks that she might just need to be taught how to play. On this random Monday evening, he decided to try and teach her. It all started with him going through random drawers looking for something, only to locate a packet of catnip. I have no idea where it came from, but it has remained in the drawer due to my distaste for kitties on crack. I have never given her catnip. It is truly a stimulant for cats and I don't jive with getting my cat high and strung out. My husband disagrees.

The cat crack was on the floor before I could react. Kashmir was acting all crazy before I could react. She was running, batting the packet, and rubbing her face all over it. Things got crazy. It was then that Trinity decided the kitty crack might just be the incentive needed to get her to play. My brilliant man devised a plan.

Step 1-use one's necktie to fashion a tether from the living room ceiling fan

Step 2-attach catnip packet with a small clip to the end of necktie, leaving it in kitty-enticing suspended motion

Step 3-retrieve kitty who absconded from the room

Step 4-introduce cat to new kitty noose. Grown man must demonstrate how to bat the pouch back and forth by thrusting motionless feline legs

Step 5-sit back, relax and watch cat ignore all of husband's hard work

Happy Birthday to Notorious R.O.B

This is a happy birthday post for my dear brother, Rob. He is 19 months younger than I, born January 7, 1981.

I have always found Robby to be hilarious. Most of my memories include him right by my side. Due to our closeness in age, he was my slightly smaller shadow. As we grew older, he became the large hulking man walking behind me.

This is my favorite picture of Rob, proudly displayed amidst my other favorites on my fridge. He is a first grader here, complete with a buzz cut and missing teeth. To this day I have a soft spot for all of the little boys I have taught who share this look-

Here is another favorite. This is my dad also as a first grader, circa 1954. A slight resemblance, no?

Robby is very photogenic. I present a photo tribute:

He's always #1,

festive,

flexible,

creative, and

jovial.

He has perfected the up the nose shot,

he looks amazing in jean shorts

and short shorts.

He's handy with a sword,

incredibly regal,

and never conforms to a group.

Happy birthday, Robby.

An Awesomesauce Blog

I do love me some blog action. Usually I read mindless fashion, makeup and home decor blogs. Today I discovered this blog while doing my obligatory cat video watching on Youtube. I do this often. I'm not ashamed. Hence I discovered Cooper and some of his fur baby pals. These cats do tricks. They also eat lots of things, including, but not limited to popsicles, watermelon, and bananas. I'm officially hooked.

Check it out:

http://sweetfurr.blogspot.com

New Year's Eve 2010

Prepare yourself for some crazy par-tay pictures. I jest. We headed to Tim and Jamie's house for a low key dinner with pals and toddlers.

Jamie, Jodi and I sat around, ate goodies, enjoyed cocktails and chatted while the menfolk did some other things.

Brad rocked in the new year on this dragon rocker.

Tyler had some chocolate pie. He seduced me with those eyes.

There was pool playing. The creepy orbs are back!

There was medallion shoe modeling.

Tim enjoyed some llama training. It was a very raucous evening.

Another Christmas

I spent my first Christmas Eve and day with my new family. T and I left on Christmas Eve morning and drove south to Kentucky to spend a couple of days with his parents and Aunt Shirley. We arrived to a lovely state with no snow on the ground. Since T claimed he hasn't seen the ground in Indiana in over a month and a half, I suggested we go for a little family jaunt around the neighborhood. At like 38 degrees, it felt warm to us.

Pat and Eddie humored me, as this was my first Christmas and they were accommodating their new daughter in law. They were cold:)

Shirley was the least down with this plan. She was a trouper, though and trudged through with the help of some earmuffs.

We had some Cosmos prior to dinner. Perhaps 3 or 4. Pat mixes a mean cocktail. I was just so happy, you see. I had to tell Trinity how much I loved him. I did this often between swigs.

The next morning we awoke to a little scavenger hunt for our stocking goodies. Here are some of the piles of loot.

One of our gifts was a buff. I prefer to call it a burqa, but only if you wear it in the style I am modeling.

T did it up turban style. We are to wear these to protect our faces during skiing in Aspen, as these were Pat's instructions. I plan on protecting my face from the hot tub steam. We also received gift certificates for excursions. Pat and Eddie gave us one weekend trip to the West Baden Springs Resort and Shirley gave us another weekend in Nashville at The Opryland Hotel, site of our engagement. We had such a wonderful visit and we can't wait for some weekend fun in 2011!

I'm No Small Frye-

You may recall these beauts-

I purchased them from Zappos for a mere $298 smacks and waited with bated breath. I couldn't wait to get my gams in those gorgeous leatha babies. After I ordered them, I browsed through the reviews. One caught my eye, from a consumer who claimed that although she didn't think her calves were large, these boots were better for "skinny legged girls." I didn't fret. My issues are above the knee when it comes to legs. I've had trouble with jeans in the past, sometimes the correct waist size will be too tight due to my oft-mentioned "Polish thighs." However, my calves and knees are normal. Or so I thought.

Damn you, gorgeous Frye boots!

They arrived a short 24 hours later and I ripped open that box with the anticipation of the dad from "A Christmas Story." I pulled one boot smoothly over my foot, my calf and then HALT! WTF? My knees wrinkled and spilled over the top part of that boot, all muffin-top knee style.

Evidence of knee spillage. My boots overfloweth. They were so tight even without jeans tucked in. There was no hope of stuffing skinny jeans in those boots, as my legs themselves were not skinny enough.

Another close up. This doesn't really display the boot muffin top, but just giganto-kneeage.

I'd like to say I didn't cry, but I would be lying. I cried, whined, packed them up and shipped them back to that boot factory where baby ponies serve as fit models. I hate you, Frye Company. If you own Frye boots, I dislike you too:)

Bowling

We went to bowl as a family.

First we exchanged shoes. In my past bowling experiences, they have always allowed me to keep my own shoes near me. Such was not the case here. They took mine as collateral. As if I would thief those fugly shoes that broadcast my Brunhilda feet! T was making fun of me, saying I was worried someone would steal "my medallion shoes" as he likes to call them. He was right. However, no one was interested in my shiny Tory Burch flats. Thank goodness.

Next step was ball selection.

Let the games begin.

Rob was much taller than all other bowlers present. Please note the individuals in the background. That woman was not fooling around. It was an all out life lesson in bowling for her six year old. We heard constant comments such as "Bubba, keep your head down. FOCUS!!!!! Slow, slow, now release!" It was quite sad, really.

Brother in law Chip turned out to be quite an Alley Cat. He was good.

Caroline in her bumper lane.

Live action video