Only in Canada, Eh?

In light of all the snow we've had I just had to share this picture apparently taken in the Roger's Pass, B.C.  Gave me a good chuckle this morning.

I just had to share this picture my daughter, Tamara, sent me on facebook, and I quote:  "Mom, an image of you!"

Who else grew up referring to these things 

as thongs?  When she was little I was always mortifying her by calling them thongs.  I could not get it into my head that they were flip flops now.

What I want to know is who in the fashion industry decided it would be fun to mess with my generations heads by renaming a specific piece of underwear (the likes of which were not even imagined at that time) the name that I called cheap summer shoes?  I can just imagine that board room meeting now.   

It's about the hard copy, Baby!

For all my book lovin' blogger friends who know what I'm talking about when I say I get a thrill from being the first person to crack open a brand new book and bury my nose in the pages getting a good smell of that as of yet unread and untouched paper and ink.  

Gotta love WestJet!

Why fly any other airline  when you can have SmartSeats?!

Can. Not. Make. It. Stop!

 LOL.   Can totally relate to this Dad.
"Let it Go" is an earworm in my ear right now.

The fine art of digging out

This was how I shoveled snow for 2 1/2 hours the other day (and barely dented t he drifts, thank you very much)...

free clipart via Clip Art Pal

This is how my neighbor shoveled his driveway...

I want one.

Homework & Daylight Savings Time...Totally Over Rated

Some things just never change.  And in my case, I guess that would be the procrastination of homework.  I used to be just horrible in high school and college.  I'd cram for exams rather than studying bits here and there on a daily basis.  And don't even get me started on term papers and assignments.  There was many an all nighter pulled to do up term papers in 3 or 4 days rather than the 2 month allotted time.  Guess I haven't learned a whole heck of a lot about not doing that because yesterday found me doing hours of homework for the Beth Moore course, Breaking Free, that the ladies in church are doing.  There is homework for almost everyday.  Lots and lots of reading, let me tell you!  If done in a sane manner, it really should take about 1/2 - 3/4 of an hour a day.  Do it the Susanne way and it was almost 3 hours straight of trying to get caught up yesterday when it hit me that oh no, next session is tomorrow night ( now today) and I had 4 1/2 out of 5 lessons still to do.  Good thing I was WIDE AWAKE because of the darn time change, is all I can say!

Today?  I can barely keep my eyes open.  I think I'm getting too old for both homework and spring time changes.

Seriously? What's Up With That? Moments...brought to you by Tired Person

Everyone in the dayhome is fighting some kind of cough and/or cold.  And I mean everyone.  Poor little duffers.  And my 18 year old has been holed up in her room for days with a cough and cold, surfacing only to get some tea or a mug of soup.  So when my nose started to feel funny yesterday and I got progressively super tired over the course of the day, I started pulling out the artillery for holding off a cold for myself.  I read somewhere that if you feel a cold coming on have a teaspoon of honey and 1/4 tsp. of cinnamon 3x a day.  So I started that therapy stirred into a hot cup of water.  It's actually very yummy and comforting, cold or not.  The jumbo bottle of cold fx got taken out and used.  And sleep.  Sleep is so important when fighting something off.  Gotta give the body a good chance, right?  So when the last child left yesterday, I curled up on the couch and thought I'd grab a snooze before dinner.  I never, ever do this.  So while in snoozeland, I hear a faint "Mom".  But I turned from it and kept skipping through my dream fields, when again, a little louder this time, "Mom".   In my dreamstate, I turned a bit toward the sound but chose once again to ignore and keep skipping.  Again, really close this time, "Mom...Moooom!"  Yanked out of my green, daisy filled dreamland field, I opened my eyes to find my daughter standing over me.  Apparently she was now feeling much better and decided to clean her room.  Standing above me with a pair of black leotards in hand, she just had to know:  "Can these be washed?".  Huh?  Seriously?  What's up with that?  This was that important that I had to be viciously yanked out of my lovely field?  I want my field back!  At the typing of this post, said offending leotards have not yet made it to the sink to be washed.  Sigh.

Bless my hubby, he knew I was zonked so he made a pizza run for supper. Thank you, Lord, for my hubby! After supper the couch once again called my name.  I read a little, watched a little of "Chopped" and found myself once again in snoozeland, occasionally drifting in and out as I heard tv commercials come on.  Finally at 10 p.m. I berated myself and thought this is ridiculous.  Obviously my body is trying to tell me something and I need to go to bed.  In a rare act of actually listening, I turned off the tv, got on my jammies, locked up and went to bed.  Only to find myself tossing and turning.  Until my normal bed time of after 11 p.m.  Huh?  Seriously?  What's up with that?  I should have just stayed on the couch and got a good sleep.  Sigh.

I think I have now had enough of the "Seriously?  What's up with?" moments for this week.  I can only be hit with so many of those at once and I'm thinking my cup is full now, thank you very much, whoever is in charge of those.

Only 5 Left!

For the hard to buy for person on your list?
For the person who has everything?

Only $39.99!

For 2 boxes of 10 each.

Individually wrapped...




...Twinkies!

Seriously?

I am so wishing I would have bought a ton of those babies before the big closure announcement so I could sell them to those going through Twinkie withdrawl.   Like this guy, who bought up every Twinkie in downtown Norfolk.

photo from International Business Times

 I'd be rolling in the dough, so to speak, right now.  Two bucks a Twinkie.  Yikes.  Better hurry guys, there are only 5 left!

This guy better hope no Twinkie addict knows his last name or address.

Wanted: Housecleaning Fairy with Magic Wand

Not sure what I did on the weekend.  But I do know one thing:  it wasn't housework.  Sheesh, why do I always do this to myself?  So it's barely 8 a.m. and I've already power swept the kitchen floor, power dusted and wiped a sink.  No time to drag the vacuum out, there is small hands knocking on the door!  Yikes, what a way to start a busy Monday!

**Upon reading Karen's comment, I realized that I totally stole her naming of "housecleaning fairy" from a post of hers.  Shame on me, so I apologized to her and she gave me permission to use it.  Thanks, Karen!

It's the whole picture that really tells the story

The other day I figured it was time to go through the camera and sort through the pictures, make some room on the memory card.  I found this picture of my cute furball I forgot I had taken.  (The same cute furball who chewed up the bottom of my coffee table right under our noses with his chewy 1 foot away.   He's just lucky he's so dang cute).

Anyway, as I was looking at this picture with a critical eye trying to decide if it was a keeper or not.  Whether a cropping would make it better.  A boost or a frame.   It's not a bad pic.  A nice memory keeper of a cutie.  Nothing wrong with the pic.

Upon closer examination, I noticed there was something a little unusual.  It totally slipped by me at first.  But it shouldn't have been surprising as this kind of thing regularly seems to show up in our photos.  So I tried to bring in a bit of contrast and color changing.

Hmmm, still something just unusual.  So then I tried a little special effects but the pixalating was a little strong.

But wait!  There it was.  The thing that was trying to shout out at me.  The thing that didn't belong in the picture.  The unusual that isn't so unusual around here.  With a little cropping and sharpening and clarity it brought it into focus.

Welcome to my photography world.

This post brought to you by the wonders of Picnik.  Which is closing it's virtual doors in April.  The thought of which has sent me into a state of grieving and near hyperventilating  panic.  I do not handle change well.  I had gotten know this site so well and could navigate it like nobody's business.  It was set up perfectly for the tecnologically unadvanced such as myself.   Anyone got any ideas of another photo editing site that is as easy to use as Picnik?  I will miss my editing friend dearly.  It made my pictures look good without stressing me out.  Why do the good ones always go way too early?  Sigh.

Is there a support group for this?

There's something going on in the Living to Tell household.

 In fact, it's happening in the dark confines of the closet floor of a certain member of the Living to Tell household.  Who shall remain nameless to protect the (not so) innocent.

The books!  They are breeding!  They have left the confines of their home and are piling at an alarming rate!  At the rate they are going, I'm either going to have to separate the boys from the girls or buy a house with walk in closets.

Laura, I tried.  I really, really tried to give the To Be Read books boundaries.  I bought them a beautiful, fairly larger basket they can call all their own.  I lectured them on sticking to the boundaries.  I put them behind closed doors.   But they have a mind of their own, it seems. They are a rebellious bunch.

 I cannot read them fast enough.  Of course, it doesn't help that I keep taking books out of the library when I know I have these to read.  Or buying them at the library.  Or ordering more books to review.  Or taking another half dozen from a friend when she offered to let me raid her bins.   But shhh.  Nobody need to know that.

It's a sickness I tell ya!    Cannot. stop!

Sigh.  Last night, after "returning" movies to the library, I just added another to the pile and have half a dozen in another basket.  Sigh.  Maybe this non-resolution gal should have made some kind of New Year's resolution.

Sometimes I just get a whole lot out of a book. 

 And I want to go back and reread.  

Or take a note or ten.  

Or write down a quote.

But paper and pen is in a land far, far away.

  And sometimes that book belongs to another.  

How could that be?

I know.

But it does happen.

What to do when the temptation to underline is too great?

So it dawned on me I had these post it tabby thingies sitting in my drawer doing nothing with their lives. 

Voila, problem solved.

And they're just happy to be out and about doing their thing.

I heart the post it sticky thingies.

Shoe Love

My dog and I.  We have a thing for shoes.  We love them.

A girl, and apparently a dog, can never have enough of them.

I, however, do not stick my nose in them

Nor do I find taking an afternoon nap in a basket of them especially comfortable

Me, I prefer them on my feet.

My New Obsession

The pannini sandwich.  I cannot get enough.

Thanks to Hubby's wonderful gift of this for Christmas:

Isn't it sleek and shiny and lovely?

I am in love.  With Hubby and the Pannini grill.

I asked how he knew.  He swears it was on my list.  I swear it wasn't.

Must be kismet.

And this lovely site is just feeding the new obsession.  A blog devoted to the scrumptious pannini.  With a clever name.  Pannini Happy.  Oh, the excitement.  Oh, the fun.  Oh, the pounds on the hips.  Last week, turkey, harvati cheese, spinach, thin sliced pickles, red peppers.  Tonight, bacon, tomato, gouda, lettuce.   If I don't surface, send help.

And the winner is...

Oh my.  This girl so should win the infamous mirror ball trophy of Dancing with the Stars!  This is a way better performance than a lot of them have shown over the years.

What Kind of Book Am I?

Saw this over at Barbara's and tucked it away for one of those day's when I didn't have a thought in my head to write about. Well, today's one of them days. LOL. For once it turned out pretty darn close and realistic fiction just happens to be my favorite genre too. So there ya go. Fascinating stuff here at Living To Tell.

You Are Realistic Fiction

You are an outgoing person and very interested in others. You have many relationships that are important to you. You are always willing to lend an ear to a friend with a problem. And you're even pretty good at giving advice! Some may accuse you of loving drama, but you just seem to find yourself in the middle of it. You are a true people person. You find the lives of others to be fascinating. You're up for hearing anyone's life story.

What Kind of Book Are You?

So tell me in the comments, what kind of book did you turn out to be and what is your favorite genre of book?

The Sad Saga of My 1st Tomato

Remember the thing of beauty? Indeed. All the excitement when this baby started turning red last week? All the tender caring? All the tending and watering? Remember all the hope and the starting of the planning on what I how I would eat this, my very first attempt at homegrown tomatoes? All your wonderful suggestions in the comments?

As per the suggestion of some of you wonderful gardeners out there, I picked that beauty before it got too red to avoid worms and other such nasties. My mouth was just watering. But lo and behold, when I turned it over this glared up at me from the bottom of the tomato:

A total nasty! All visions of bacon & tomato sandwiches fizzled in my head. All thoughts of mayo and tomato on texas toast flew from my mind. Taking a huge bite sprinkled with a few grains of salt and fresh ground pepper, juice running down my chin and hand left in a cartoon poof. Bummer. What is wrong with this thing? My mom had seen this flaw on three tomatoes that were still green and made me pick them and throw them away. It almost killed me to do it, but I was an obediant daughter. Because she's an awesome gardener. And because she's my mom.

I didn't see this on the red one until I picked it. But being the stubborn one that I am I couldn't let go of the dream of that first tomato so I let it get good and red on the counter and cut it in half.

Arrgh. Wanna see a grown woman cry? You should have been here at this moment. Durn.

Now all my tomato hopes and dreams on pinned on these guys. Grow babies, grow. Don't let me down now!

Finally an exercise I can handle!

Being in the middle years of my life, I find exercise, shall we say, not quite as easy or fun as it once was. But my sister sent me this exercise to build upper arm and shoulder strength.

Begin by standing on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of room at each side. With a 5-lb potato sack in each hand, extend your arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you can. Try to reach a full minute, and then relax. Each day you'll find that you can hold this position for just a bit longer.

After a couple of weeks, move up to 10-lb potato sacks.
Then try 50-lb potato sacks and then eventually try to get to where you can lift a 100-lb potato sack in each hand and hold your arms straight for more than a full minute. (After 6 months of work I'm proud to say I am at this level finally).

After you feel confident at that level, put a potato in each sack.

The Latest in Helmet Fashion

Remember that old commercial, I think probably from the '70's that had the tag line: "Curlers in your hair...shame on you!"? It was in reference to those ladies who went outside their homes with curlers in their hair. Well last week we were singing "Curlers in Mom's hair, we thank you!". My 76 year old mom was out in her back yard with curlers in her hair. I have no idea what she was doing, but one of her bird houses that hang from a tree fell down and conked her on the noggin. Her comment: "Thank goodness I had curlers in my hair." Apparently, those curlers acted like a helmet of sorts, and that old bird house just bounced right off. Hmmm, she may be onto something here. Maybe I can somehow patent the idea and start marketing it. I mean, if it's okay for Mona and Mom, it could be the next big trend!