blurbiesblurbies.

i've eaten wayyyy too much junk this week.
but i've also eaten a salad every single day. does that cancel it out?

the husband got a promotion!
he's my new favorite hardware associate.

somehow i haven't gotten anything done at home this week, even though i haven't been too busy.
i have only had 1 day off out of the last 12, though.

my favorite hardware associate made me an awesome media station!
the speakers are mounted on the wall and everything. i know.

the 2 millionth eagle scout award was given out on my dad's birthday this week!
i love my dad and miss him. he loves scouting.


i absolutely love coke zero.
nuff said?

Ice Cream and Cake.

Growing up, birthdays meant one thing: cake and ice cream with the family.

As a matter of fact, pretty much any holiday or momentous occasion or even just a Sunday afternoon meant cake and ice cream with the family. I was blessed to grow up literally surrounded by my relatives. We'd find any reason we could to get everyone together and stuff ourselves silly. In a backyard or a kitchen (usually Gramma's) we'd gather and eat and eat and laugh. All of our favorite desserts were there: strawberry cheesecake, peanut butter bars, marshmallow fudge brownies . . . and nobody consumes buckets of ice cream like the Nielsens! I remember always having Neopolitan ice cream so that the kids could order the colors they wanted, "I'd like brown and pink, please!" Then the kids would run around like crazy in the backyard if it was warm weather; if it was cold they'd huddle around Gramma's big orange crayon box and color the night away.

Now my siblings and I are older and the case is the same with many of the others. Quite a few of the cousins have families of their own. The older (and more numerous) we got, the less frequently we got together. Now our family and the other families with married children spend more time with our own, new generations - making traditions, eating and laughing. We always went to Gramma's, though, about once a month. Any reason was good. We'd sing Happy Birthday to everyone who'd had a birthday that month, all of us yelling out something like "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR kaileejakenoahmaddiejonaharleypambradenandtaylarrrrrrr (GASP) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUU!"

Now that I live so far away from my family, I really think about that kind of stuff a lot. I have my new family here, but they are definitely a much smaller, quieter bunch. I am very happy to tell you that tonight (most of us) got together for cake and ice cream for my brother-in-law's birthday. I definitely felt right at home . . . and my sweet tooth felt extremely satisfied.


One of my favorite things is a house that has just finished a good party:
the seats pushed away from the table,
the leftovers still around for the nibbling,
the dishes set aside to be washed after the company has been enjoyed,
the family in a sleepy and giggly state
and the babies (in this case, Judge) all tuckered out from the excitement.


It's as if the place is inside a giant bubble that keeps out all the cares of the world. For that short time, it's bliss. You may even call it "a little slice of heaven." Cliche as it sounds, I'm pretty sure it's the truth.

(That's a magnolia from right outside my bedroom window!
My wonderful mother-in-law cut it and put it in some water for us. Isn't it pretty?)

Cookie Mama (aka Mrs. Fowler)

That's right. I've recreated Cakesters in my own kitchen. Oh, they are disgustingly delicious.
They aren't pretty but they are oh, oh, oh so good.

(What I did was make Cake Mix cookies with yellow cake mix and then I put lemon and strawberry frosting between two of the cookies. Fluffy frosted heaven. Yum. Yum.)

I just love making cookies.

The life-cycle of a rawhide bone.

Day 1:


Day 2:


Day 3:


Day 4:


Day 5:


Finally, it becomes a shadow of its former self.

When it is about two inches long, Judge picks it up with his mouth and throws it across the room so that he can go fetch it. It also sleeps with him and he rolls on it when he wants to scratch his back.

Dear Family,

Since we were talking about it, this is the length of my hair these days:



Oh, and that's my cute husband behind me. Remember us? ;)

Okay, this other picture might jog your memory. Our faces usually looked more like this:



Remember now?

XOXOXOX
and Love,

Us

screen door doggie.

When you're a dog and it's first thing in the morning, you can hardly wait for the door outside to open.

I mean, there have been all sorts of squirrels in your yard during the night and you have to catch up on the smells!

Why on earth would any human shut TWO doors in the same place, especially when one of those doors was full of tiny holes?

Anyway, there's no stopping you when you're a dog who needs to get outside and sniff the perimeter. Not even this thing called a screen door.

Don't worry, it won't bother you anymore. Now the hole is big enough for you to go in and out whenever you please.

Why didn't they just make it like that in the first place? You'll never understand the point of this weird door that isn't really a door at all.

Vocabulary Word:

Because the dog days of summer will soon be upon us (and it already feels like they're here), today's word is


lan·guid \ˈlaŋ-gwəd\
adjective
Middle French languide, from Latin languidus, from languēre to languish.

1. drooping or flagging from or as if from exhaustion.
2. sluggish in character or disposition.
3. lacking force or quickness of movement.



*As you can see, Judge has a deep understanding of this word.