I'm stressing a little bit. Just a little. There's just so dang much goin' on.
Moving
Appointments
Training
Packing
Working
Friends...
Who has time for friends! The only reason I saw the Giver the other day was because she was in the hospital. It's kinda funny how priorities change when you know someone is in the hospital. You make the time, you know what I mean?
I see Red because she works out at the gym. I do not see the Writer...evah. The Singer sends me text messages reminding me that she is still a live and wondering if I am.
The Stalker...well girls, I always take her calls. She's in the thick of it right now and her calls always leave me feeling like a boob for whining about my own pathetic life. Of course, she seldom calls...because she has NO TIME!
I really just want to go on vacation.
But I can't because we'll be moving in about eighteen days.
MOVING!
But before that, we've got to get the dog to the vet (hims has a lump or two that are curious). We've got to get our little red car to pass DEQ (it's failed once already). I've got to finish training two new employees. I've got "outside" work that has to be done for my employer (the timing is terrible). And I've got to pack and pack and pack.
It's just a little stress.
Just a little.
But let me just say to all those friends who are local:
birthday party at MY house!
Showing posts with label Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Party. Show all posts
Thursday, September 09, 2010
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Party Planning
You should see my desk. No. Really. It's so clean. Super clean. Company clean.
If you've been my friend for a long time, you've seen the flip side of my clean desk. She's the evil, littered desk; the ugly sistah of clean desk.
You see, I've got company coming over on Friday.
My wonderful sistah-in-love will be here. She's a peach and so friendly that I know she'll make everyone feel comfortable. The Writer will be here too. She's here to watch my back and protect me from...dum dum dum...the strangers!
People I don't know very well areinvading attending my little jewelry party. They've never been to my little, unfinished (in oh so many ways) farm house. They may not understand about that barnyard smell or about my psycho cat, Dingo. Do you think they'll mind that while the ceiling is finished, it hasn't all been textured?
On the upside my Beloved installed a spankin' new outdoor light. At least now they won't be wandering around in the dark, tripping over the dog, or falling into a cow pie.
Red will be here too. She knows some of the strangers that are coming and will help to keep things fun.
I've decided, with your help, to serve appetizers and finger foods. Grilled baguette with feta and garlic, marinated bocconii, meatballs, cream cheese with jalapeno pepper jelly, warm asparagus dip, sliced veggies, maybe some fruit, a sour-cream cheese cake and an apple Kugal, should do nicely. Most of this can be made the day before, which makes my life oh, so much easier.
Especially when you consider I have to be at work at 5:00am.
I want perfection...but I know me...I'll end up with whatevah.
Even though I know the house will be clean, the food will be good, and the company will keep things fun, I am still transported back to my childhood.
Funny how one really bad experience can mess with you for the rest of your life.
We lived in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood and one day, in the third grade, a pretty little girl named Lisa invited herself over to my house. I was so excited! She was the popular girl. GASP!
Her visit to my house lasted a grand total of fifteen minutes. She got the tour, stuck her little pug nose in the air, flipped her blond, perfectly cut hair over her shoulder, and asked to call her mother.
The next day, there was plenty of pointing and laughing. I've been weird about inviting people over ever since.
So, Friday looms before me and I quake, just a little, when I consider those who will attend my party.
Shiver
Now, I'm off to vacuum underneath the couch, cause ya know someone's going to look there!
If you've been my friend for a long time, you've seen the flip side of my clean desk. She's the evil, littered desk; the ugly sistah of clean desk.
You see, I've got company coming over on Friday.
My wonderful sistah-in-love will be here. She's a peach and so friendly that I know she'll make everyone feel comfortable. The Writer will be here too. She's here to watch my back and protect me from...dum dum dum...the strangers!
People I don't know very well are
On the upside my Beloved installed a spankin' new outdoor light. At least now they won't be wandering around in the dark, tripping over the dog, or falling into a cow pie.
Red will be here too. She knows some of the strangers that are coming and will help to keep things fun.
I've decided, with your help, to serve appetizers and finger foods. Grilled baguette with feta and garlic, marinated bocconii, meatballs, cream cheese with jalapeno pepper jelly, warm asparagus dip, sliced veggies, maybe some fruit, a sour-cream cheese cake and an apple Kugal, should do nicely. Most of this can be made the day before, which makes my life oh, so much easier.
Especially when you consider I have to be at work at 5:00am.
I want perfection...but I know me...I'll end up with whatevah.
Even though I know the house will be clean, the food will be good, and the company will keep things fun, I am still transported back to my childhood.
Funny how one really bad experience can mess with you for the rest of your life.
We lived in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood and one day, in the third grade, a pretty little girl named Lisa invited herself over to my house. I was so excited! She was the popular girl. GASP!
Her visit to my house lasted a grand total of fifteen minutes. She got the tour, stuck her little pug nose in the air, flipped her blond, perfectly cut hair over her shoulder, and asked to call her mother.
The next day, there was plenty of pointing and laughing. I've been weird about inviting people over ever since.
So, Friday looms before me and I quake, just a little, when I consider those who will attend my party.
Shiver
Now, I'm off to vacuum underneath the couch, cause ya know someone's going to look there!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Your Opinion Matters
On November 6th I will be hosting a Lia Sophia jewelry party at my home. I haven't hosted any form of "party" like this in years. Few people attend and it turns out to be a waste of time and money.
So, why am I doing this now? Simply put, there is a piece of jewelry that I want but I am unwilling to pay the full price for it.
Plus, I would like to support the woman who is the sales rep.
Then, there is the whole, "I love to throw a party" thing.
My original plan was to serve dinner and dessert. I considered a healthy enchilada dish with avocado salsa, chips, veggies, etc. Then I thought maybe pasta would be better, but I could not decide between Olive Oil Spaghetti or the Herbed Shrimp and Pasta dish that I recently found. Of course, I could make both...
The writer, who will pretty much attend anything I host as long as I cook, wondered about me serving an entire dinner. She preferred finger foods, light appetizers, etc.
Now I don't know what to do. So, I am asking for your input.
If I serve finger foods it would be something like this:
Sweet and Sour Meatballs
Meat and cheese tray
Veggie and fruit trays
Assorted breads, crackers, etc.
Hummus
Tiny quiches (I adore these)
Dinner would be one of the choices mentioned above.
But wait, what about dessert!
No worries, my pretties. I am famous for dessert.
I could make one of my signature cakes: Mocha Cake, Banana Whipped Cream Cake, Lemon Cake. I could also make a Sour Cream Cheesecake, truffles, tiny gourmet cupcakes, or maybe...he he he... petit fours.
Gosh I just love to throw a party.
Now if only my house wasn't my house, but a nice house....sigh...
Okay, so I need your help! Please let me know what YOU think I should serve. There just might be something good in it for you!
So, why am I doing this now? Simply put, there is a piece of jewelry that I want but I am unwilling to pay the full price for it.
Plus, I would like to support the woman who is the sales rep.
Then, there is the whole, "I love to throw a party" thing.
My original plan was to serve dinner and dessert. I considered a healthy enchilada dish with avocado salsa, chips, veggies, etc. Then I thought maybe pasta would be better, but I could not decide between Olive Oil Spaghetti or the Herbed Shrimp and Pasta dish that I recently found. Of course, I could make both...
The writer, who will pretty much attend anything I host as long as I cook, wondered about me serving an entire dinner. She preferred finger foods, light appetizers, etc.
Now I don't know what to do. So, I am asking for your input.
If I serve finger foods it would be something like this:
Sweet and Sour Meatballs
Meat and cheese tray
Veggie and fruit trays
Assorted breads, crackers, etc.
Hummus
Tiny quiches (I adore these)
Dinner would be one of the choices mentioned above.
But wait, what about dessert!
No worries, my pretties. I am famous for dessert.
I could make one of my signature cakes: Mocha Cake, Banana Whipped Cream Cake, Lemon Cake. I could also make a Sour Cream Cheesecake, truffles, tiny gourmet cupcakes, or maybe...he he he... petit fours.
Gosh I just love to throw a party.
Now if only my house wasn't my house, but a nice house....sigh...
Okay, so I need your help! Please let me know what YOU think I should serve. There just might be something good in it for you!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Tea Time
With the passing of Washcinda, we've been forced back to that red light district known as the laundry mat. We made the earth shaking decision to only wash our clothes there and then bring them home to hang on the line. Beloved said that he didn't mind the rough, scratchiness of clothes dried on the line. He said it reminded him of his childhood. I admit that little comment made me grin. It means that in some small way, I remind of him of his mother. Okay, maybe not, maybe he's just a man who remembers scratchy clothes. Think what you may, I've decided to take it personally and accept it as a compliment.
Before we paid a visit to the laundry mat washing machines, I had to work at the gym. I don't really mind working an occasional Saturday, Girl sleeps most of the day anyway and I'm usually home around two in the afternoon. Today, however, was tea day.
Our gym is involved with the Relay for Life. It's an on going tradition and this year they decided to hold a fund raising tea to raise funds for their team. The master mind and tea planners went all out. It was beautiful. The labor these two ladies put into this event was nothing short of delightful.
Thus, I was reminded again of how wonderful my fellow employees are. Gracious, kind, creative, and darn good cooks to boot. I'm honoured to call them friends.
And the thing that struck me the most were the faces of those who joined us for tea. Old members, new members, children, friends; all gathered to sip tea and converse in the relaxed atmosphere of the gym.
An unusual site, certainly, but in many ways THIS is exactly what Curves is; a community of women.
Encouraging
Uplifting
Judgement free
Accepting
I wore my hat, the one I love. It's the hat I wear as soon as the sun makes his appearance in the sky. It has a wide brim and sits low on my forehead. It allows me to observe without being observed.
They sat, chatting, and sipping tea, surrounded by flowers and beauty that is seldom seen in a gym. I noted the American Indian sitting at a small table with a devout lady of faith. Their laughed tickled my ears.
A little girl darted through the crowd, squealing.
Another stole through the room shooting pictures with her Nana's camera.
The little woman, the one who reminds me of a very small, thin hobbit patted my arm and thanked me. I felt guilty, after all, I'd helped with some of the set up and donated the use of my 26 tea cups (yes, 26), but really didn't do much. The hobbit lady shared her delight and then winked and said, "It's our first ANNUAL tea!"
I suppose that means there will be more tea parties at the gym.
What a smashing idea.
Before we paid a visit to the laundry mat washing machines, I had to work at the gym. I don't really mind working an occasional Saturday, Girl sleeps most of the day anyway and I'm usually home around two in the afternoon. Today, however, was tea day.
Our gym is involved with the Relay for Life. It's an on going tradition and this year they decided to hold a fund raising tea to raise funds for their team. The master mind and tea planners went all out. It was beautiful. The labor these two ladies put into this event was nothing short of delightful.
Thus, I was reminded again of how wonderful my fellow employees are. Gracious, kind, creative, and darn good cooks to boot. I'm honoured to call them friends.
And the thing that struck me the most were the faces of those who joined us for tea. Old members, new members, children, friends; all gathered to sip tea and converse in the relaxed atmosphere of the gym.
An unusual site, certainly, but in many ways THIS is exactly what Curves is; a community of women.
Encouraging
Uplifting
Judgement free
Accepting
I wore my hat, the one I love. It's the hat I wear as soon as the sun makes his appearance in the sky. It has a wide brim and sits low on my forehead. It allows me to observe without being observed.
They sat, chatting, and sipping tea, surrounded by flowers and beauty that is seldom seen in a gym. I noted the American Indian sitting at a small table with a devout lady of faith. Their laughed tickled my ears.
A little girl darted through the crowd, squealing.
Another stole through the room shooting pictures with her Nana's camera.
The little woman, the one who reminds me of a very small, thin hobbit patted my arm and thanked me. I felt guilty, after all, I'd helped with some of the set up and donated the use of my 26 tea cups (yes, 26), but really didn't do much. The hobbit lady shared her delight and then winked and said, "It's our first ANNUAL tea!"
I suppose that means there will be more tea parties at the gym.
What a smashing idea.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Goal Met...Bout Time!
It happened. Finally. For twelve weeks I have waited, watching anxiously, only to be disappointed time and again. Finally, it happened. I reached my first weight loss goal: 16 lbs gone!
My actual goal was 15 lbs, but a bonus pound isn’t something you just toss aside. No way Jose!
When the Singer phoned today, I answered and she asked to speak to me (obviously not realizing I had answered the phone).
I said, “This is me!”
She replied, “You sound so little.”
I smirked, “Its cause I’m wearing my little clothes”
I feel good in my little clothes, but I cannot wait until these are my “fat clothes”.
In other news:
We, the Boss Lady and I, have located the perfect venue for our big fund raising event in October. Stay tuned. Trust me when I say it’s going to be magical.
And have you ever tried the drink by Naked called Blue Monster? It tastes like sunshine. Honest. Miss C didn’t believe me until she tried it. Now she’s a believer too.
The fitness ball (FITNESS BALL, FITNESS BALL) is still kicking me in the lower quarters, but I was able to complete the entire upper body workout. The abs work is going to kill me though. Nuff said.
And finally, Saturday is blueberry picking day. I cannot wait. I’ve been craving them sooooo badly.
My actual goal was 15 lbs, but a bonus pound isn’t something you just toss aside. No way Jose!
When the Singer phoned today, I answered and she asked to speak to me (obviously not realizing I had answered the phone).
I said, “This is me!”
She replied, “You sound so little.”
I smirked, “Its cause I’m wearing my little clothes”
I feel good in my little clothes, but I cannot wait until these are my “fat clothes”.
In other news:
We, the Boss Lady and I, have located the perfect venue for our big fund raising event in October. Stay tuned. Trust me when I say it’s going to be magical.
And have you ever tried the drink by Naked called Blue Monster? It tastes like sunshine. Honest. Miss C didn’t believe me until she tried it. Now she’s a believer too.
The fitness ball (FITNESS BALL, FITNESS BALL) is still kicking me in the lower quarters, but I was able to complete the entire upper body workout. The abs work is going to kill me though. Nuff said.
And finally, Saturday is blueberry picking day. I cannot wait. I’ve been craving them sooooo badly.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
The hotel is officially closed for the season. The Dude, Biscuit Mama, and their brood bid us farewell and headed for distant mountains south. I’ve located the various items that were left in their wake; a hair brush, pillow, diapers, soda pop. The floors are clean, the counters scrubbed and only a few leftover burgers remain in the refrigerator. Yet, there is a nagging voice that lingers inside my head.
A comment was made that I can’t shake. It was said in jest, but it slapped me in the chops like a ball-peen hammer. I’m still reeling from the blow and I can’t shake off the niggling feeling that while the comment was made in good, clean fun, that there is an underlying truth to it. It’s twisting in my gut and causing me to reflect deeply.
This explains why I am baking peanut butter cookies, of which I’ve eaten two and won’t eat anymore. Honest. I bake a mean cookie. I really do. Cooking and baking, as well as writing, are my forms of therapy. My family loves it when I turn introspective because it usually means something good will happen in the near future.
I suppose I’ll have to chew on this comment for a while longer until I can dig its grave and kick it into the pit before tossing dirt over it and jumping up and down upon it to pack it FIRMLY down. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how one little sentence can slowly draw blood from the wound it carved in your back? Nasty, festering, wound.
I haven’t been to the track in two days and am feeling a strong pull from it. I want to run. I want to feel the stress of the past week slide off me while I run lap after lap. I want to feel my heart pounding and hear my Ipod blaring. To feel the cool breeze of morning gently cooling my brow as I run and while I still can’t run, I can walk. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll walk off this hurt and anger.
Anyhow, here are a few pics from the BBQ we hosted for the herd on Friday night.
A comment was made that I can’t shake. It was said in jest, but it slapped me in the chops like a ball-peen hammer. I’m still reeling from the blow and I can’t shake off the niggling feeling that while the comment was made in good, clean fun, that there is an underlying truth to it. It’s twisting in my gut and causing me to reflect deeply.
This explains why I am baking peanut butter cookies, of which I’ve eaten two and won’t eat anymore. Honest. I bake a mean cookie. I really do. Cooking and baking, as well as writing, are my forms of therapy. My family loves it when I turn introspective because it usually means something good will happen in the near future.
I suppose I’ll have to chew on this comment for a while longer until I can dig its grave and kick it into the pit before tossing dirt over it and jumping up and down upon it to pack it FIRMLY down. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how one little sentence can slowly draw blood from the wound it carved in your back? Nasty, festering, wound.
I haven’t been to the track in two days and am feeling a strong pull from it. I want to run. I want to feel the stress of the past week slide off me while I run lap after lap. I want to feel my heart pounding and hear my Ipod blaring. To feel the cool breeze of morning gently cooling my brow as I run and while I still can’t run, I can walk. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll walk off this hurt and anger.
Anyhow, here are a few pics from the BBQ we hosted for the herd on Friday night.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Nothin' But Notaro
I shaved my legs
I spent more than five minutes on my hair
Make-up – check
Jewelry – check
Comfortable clothes – check
Nervous/excited attitude – check
The day had arrived. I couldn’t believe it. When I got the post card last week informing me that one of my favorite authors would be speaking and signing books at Powell’s downtown, I was beside myself with excitement. I am, after all, I card carrying member of the Idiot Girls Club, so when I learned that the original Idiot Girl herself was going to be in town, nothing was going to keep me away.
Not teen drama
Not public transportation
Not a scary walk 10 blocks (Teri said 8 blocks, she lied) through Portland in sandals. Ouchie mama.
Not the crowd of 30 to 40 Asian men who hustled me up the stairway, then paused to snap photo’s of the Notaro crowd. Go figure. It would have been hysterical if I had thought to take a picture of them taking a picture. Sigh. Idiot Girl.
Nothing, baby
And I was NOT disappointed
Laurie Notaro first blazed on the publishing scene with, The Idiot Girls Action-Adventure Club: True Tales from a Magnificent and Clumsy Life (Villard, July 2, 2002). Because of Laurie, I survived eleven months (eleven!!) with those two tiny tyrants who were determined to suck the life out of me or murder me in my sleep (either way, they were out to get me.)
Laurie made me laugh. Laugh as I have seldom laughed in my life. She’s funny, seriously, dangerously, drunkenly (in her younger days) funny. Her newest book, The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death: Reflections on Revenge, Germophobia, and Laser Hair Removal (Villard June 24, 2008) promises to be just as side splitting funny.
And, she’s hysterical in person too. For nearly two hours she kept her fans rolling with laughter. She also had prizes and who doesn’t like prizes? I am tickled to share that I won a shower cap from Trump International Hotel in Chicago. Dude! It’s as close to Trump as I’m ever gonna get. I plan on leaving this golden prize to one of my children in my will. (Note to kiddies: bribery and other forms of flattery will sway me – be ingenious).
It was uber fun to meet Laurie and get my book signed, although I think I offended her when I refused to eat the chocolate Twizzler she continually waved beneath my nose.
Thanks for everything Laurie! Keep making us laugh.
Click here to go to Laurie Notaro's Site
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I’ve made a discovery. Perhaps you’d be interested in knowing what it is. I have to admit that I was a little surprised by it and unless you are my age it may not mean a lot to you. If that’s the case, just tuck this little nugget of knowledge away for a later time. If you happen to be one of my children, just know that we do indeed love you (beyond measure) and we miss you (oh, so very, very much).
Our son moved out last June – one down
Our foster girls returned to their mother in April – two down
Our daughter is away at camp – three down
Can you say party on the farm?
I am surprised and delighted to admit that Beloved and I are having a fabulous time home alone. No children, no messes, no extra driving, just us. Us and the TV. Us and a bottle of vino. Us and the quiet…and each other!
It’s been like a mini-retreat. The only thing that’s missing is the smell of suntan lotion and I can fix that! I never expected to enjoy having this man all to myself. It’s extraordinary how much fun we’re having. I know I’ve whimpered and whined about my children growing up and leaving home (Why you wanna leave me???? - from My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding). There have been times I’ve lamented my babyless state (trust me, it was a passing flirt with insanity!) and wondered aloud to anyone who would listen as to what I would do with my time sans children.
So, let me tell you, I’m doing a lot and I’m having fun. It helps that I just got hired to write some fitness articles (hurray me!). The house work STAYS done. The dishes are minimal and cooking for two, yeah, that rocks!
The quiet is amazingly quite. I never knew that kind of silence existed. It’s kinda creepy, but in a good way.
So, to my darling children, I love you. I really, really do. But guess what? Momma is going to be A OKAY when you both finally depart for your adult lives. I thought I’d be losing my life when you left, but in reality I’ll be gaining one.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Birthday Pictures
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wonderful Wednesday
Mid-week, is a lovely time here on the farm. The babies have gone a vistin', Beloved is doing what he does in his bright orange safety vest, Miss C is chomping through Algebra, and peace reigns secure. All is well in Whoville.
The boys were here over the weekend. Yes, that means I had a 1-year-old, a 2-year-old, a 4-year-old, a 13-year-old, a 15-year-old, to contend with. Thankfully, the older two were a delight while the younger ones were busy attempting to strain what's left of my brain through their toy shopping baskets.
Master C celebrated his 13th birthday last Thursday and Miss C baked him a cake. It turned out well considering that parts of it broke when we tried to assemble this four layer monster and we ran out of frosting.
Frosting, like a baggy shirt or make-up hides a multitude of sins!
Aren't they cute!
It looks better than we thought it would!
He wanted the center of the cake, so I took a glass and "cut" it out for him.
Although it looks like he is about to sneeze, he's really just blowing out the candles.
Yummo!
The boys were here over the weekend. Yes, that means I had a 1-year-old, a 2-year-old, a 4-year-old, a 13-year-old, a 15-year-old, to contend with. Thankfully, the older two were a delight while the younger ones were busy attempting to strain what's left of my brain through their toy shopping baskets.
Master C celebrated his 13th birthday last Thursday and Miss C baked him a cake. It turned out well considering that parts of it broke when we tried to assemble this four layer monster and we ran out of frosting.
Frosting, like a baggy shirt or make-up hides a multitude of sins!
Aren't they cute!
It looks better than we thought it would!
He wanted the center of the cake, so I took a glass and "cut" it out for him.
Although it looks like he is about to sneeze, he's really just blowing out the candles.
Yummo!
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Z-Monster Holds Court
We finally were able to celebrate Z's birthday with a "Princess-Tea Party". We played "princess, princess, queen!" aka duck, duck, goose, ate yummy heart shaped cakes, ice-cream, and grapes. Then our little princesses made two different crafts. Each princess was attended by her older sister.
It may have been a bit of over kill for a 4-year-olds birthday, but we know she's only with us for a short time longer. I hope she'll remember this time with us fondly (and not remember the times my head nearly exploded!).
I couldn't get all the photo's uploaded, but here's a few:
It may have been a bit of over kill for a 4-year-olds birthday, but we know she's only with us for a short time longer. I hope she'll remember this time with us fondly (and not remember the times my head nearly exploded!).
I couldn't get all the photo's uploaded, but here's a few:
Monday, January 28, 2008
Z-Monster's Birthday
Today, aside from being a snow day, is also Z-Monsters 4th birthday. She is a talkative, outgoing, wee girl, with sad blue eyes and very blonde hair. Her favorite food is sugar, or whatever you happen to be eating. Z is scared of men in uniforms, which includes firemen, doctors, policemen, and auto mechanics. She likes to help dry the dishes and she's good at it too!
Z has been in foster care for the last 12 months with a three month stint in foster care back in the summer of 2006. She and her sister, The Destroyer, have been our foster children since May of 07.
Happy Birthday Z-Monster!
Grandpa brought Z home an entire bag of M & M's for her birthday. How many four-year-olds do you know who have a whole bag for themselves? He also brought a bag for The Destroyer. Egad! Talk about your sugar overload!
Z has been in foster care for the last 12 months with a three month stint in foster care back in the summer of 2006. She and her sister, The Destroyer, have been our foster children since May of 07.
Happy Birthday Z-Monster!
Grandpa brought Z home an entire bag of M & M's for her birthday. How many four-year-olds do you know who have a whole bag for themselves? He also brought a bag for The Destroyer. Egad! Talk about your sugar overload!
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