If Fifth Grade accepted 41 year olds, I'd fit right it.

I love Fall.  It's a beautiful time of year.  The weather is ideal.  Temperatures are nice, the grass doesn't grow as fast so there is less mowing.  The snow hasn't started to fly yet so there's no shoveling.  The leaves are just changing and haven't begun to drop from the trees so there is no raking.  Perhaps I love Fall because I'm lazy.

I think NOT.

I've been working on getting the family to try new things.  Fall brought the opportunity for us to go apple picking.  My inner-farmer was ALL over this.  We could go and pick apples in the changing Fall sunlight.  Sunlight that makes us all look prettier.  The wind could whisper through the trees while the honeybees buzzed sweet songs of encouragement in our ears.  I could wear a bonnet and an apron and carry a bushel basket I had woven earlier in the summer.  We should TOTALLY go apple picking!

The apple picking was great.  It poured down rain.  There was lightning flashing all around us while we wielded picking sticks high into the trees.  In all honesty, the rain added an extra level of "adventure."    The trees are 130 year old heirloom apple trees.  Not sure what kind of apples they are but we figured we needed 5 bags of them.  5 bags.

So we picked and picked and picked.

We came home with a shitload of apples.


Well, it's been 5 days since we picked apples I decided it was time to do something with them before they all began to rot on my counter.

So I made applesauce.  How clever.

This is 2 bags worth of apples.  First I peeled the apples.

I peeled and peeled and peeled.  Now my inner-homesteader was totally excited about the outcome of my peeling.  My fictious chickens are going to love this special apple peel treat.  I am sure they will all scurry into the coop and lay dozens upon dozens of eggs for me.  As a thank you for my generous offering of heirloom apple peels.  They really do love me so.

Step 3 requires quartering and coring.  And quartering and coring.  And quartering and coring.  Again, Henney, Penney, Lenney, Jenney, Benney, and Zenney (my fictitious chickens)  will love the results of Step 3.  But oh girls, you won't get all of the cores for some must go into my compost pile.  Not fictitious by the way.

Finally, some sugar.  A little more sugar.  A pinch of salt.  Some water.  How about just a tad more sugar?  And several "glug glugs" of Applejack and we are off.  Apples boiling, breaking down, making the house smell nice.

I DID IT!  I made applesauce.  It looks pretty.  It smells great.  The kids are going to LOVE it.

Well, it turns out Ladycakes is "kind of picky about applesauce.  You know it's not bad but it's not the best applesauce I've ever had."  WTF?  Q and Elvis have decided they are "too full" after 2 pieces of cinnamon toast to even try it.  I thought kids were supposed to be STARVING after school?

Well, there is a happy ending.  A silver lining.  A reason for spending  2 1/2 hours of our day working on a task.  A reward.

Look what I found while I was peeling the apples.

An apple bottom!  I am in love with it.  As you can imagine I sang Flo Rida's" Low".  THE.  ENTIRE. TIME. I made applesauce.  Me, alone in my kitchen, singing about Shawty and her boots with the fur.  God, I love making applesauce.





Add Flo Rida's "Low" to my Lifesoundtrack.  Careful, there are some explicit lyrics here.  So use your best judgement if you are sharing with kiddos.  Just sayin'.

You know it's September when you give your cat a bath.

Let me start by saying, I've been a terrible friend.  The summer took forever to get here and then it just slipped away.  Right in front of my very eyes.  Gone.  I know I had some post ideas along the way but they all got lost in swim meets, laundry and bee stings.

Ladycakes has entered the world of Junior High.  Q is big man on campus and Elvis has left the building (he goes to school everyday, leaving me here all by my lonesome.)  Not entirely.  Mr. Handsome has his headquarters here.  We often meet and gossip around the watercooler.

Today I was, however, alone.  Business was being done elsewhere.  I decided to do my own business.  I bathed the cat.  This is the 16 year old cat that will be that freak of nature cat who lives to be 33.  The cat that caused Mr. Handsome to undergo years of allergy shots.  The cat we kept out of the crib for three different babies.  Just heeding the warnings, "the cat will smother the baby!"  This is the cat that now yowls, yes yowls in the middle of the night because she doesn't know where the hell she is.  The cat that Mr. Handsome clearly said at 3:26 in the morning, "that thing has got to go."

I didn't set up an appointment to euthanize that cat.  Nope.  Instead,  I watched a Youtube video on how to bathe your cat.  The woman was very informative and made it clear what I should and shouldn't do.  It was a pleasant experience.  The cat quite liked being bathed.  I do believe she was purring.  I have not seen her since I bathed her which was about 45 minutes ago.  But, I think it brought us closer.

The kids are back in school.  I am officially a cat groomer.  All in all, a good start to September.




If you would like to learn more about bathing cats, do check this out.

Just call me "Mrs. Mayor" or "Your Royal Mayorness." I'm cool.

Saturday,  after a big garage sale (I swear it's the last garage sale I host!)  as a family we sat down to watch a movie.  Tangled.  It's cute and easy.

3/4 of the way through comments began:

Elvis: "Dad, some day you will be King."

Q (from a lounging position): "King of What?"

Mr. Handsome: "There's a song that might help us with that."

Me: "Wait, let me check Youtube,  I think it's something like King of Anything."




Ladycakes: "Yes, I love that song!"

Mr. Handsome: "No, that's not what I was thinking.  It mentioned being the mayor....."

Me: "Is this it?"

Mr. Handsome: "Yes! Best song EVER!"




Me: "oh yeah, that makes WAY more sense.  You totally are gonna be King."





Add "Mayor of Simpleton" by XTC to my Life Soundtrack.

Regarding the Rapture

While driving home from a swim meet, the following dialogue occurred.

Q:  "Mom, what time is it?"

Me:  "It's 4:52."

Q:  "So, an hour and 8 minutes until the end of the world?"

Me: "Well, it's 6:00 somewhere."

Q: "Then, we're good??"

Me: "Yep, hon.  I think we're good."

Q:  "Okay, good."

We survived another day or Heaven looks exactly the same as our everyday life.  Wait... is this Hell?  (kidding.)

My Review of Flip Flop Children's Pink Beach Sandal

Originally submitted at My Cuban Store

Flip Flop Children's Pink Beach Sandal. Molded strap with printed logo. Squishy top-sole with printed heel logo. Custom Cobian textured outsole. You've herd the saying "Pretty in Pink". Well, that's just how your little girl will feel.

Flip Flop Children's Pink Beach Sandal

Perfectly Pink. But run a bit small.

By hereatthehive from Park City, UTah on 5/7/2011

 

4out of 5

Sizing: Feels half size too small

Width: Feels true to width

Pros: Stylish, Cute, Totally fun flip flops

Cons: Run just a little small

Best Uses: Wedding foot wear, Casual Wear

Describe Yourself: Alternative, Stylish, Trendy

Okay, we bought these for our boys. Yes, boys (10 and 6) for our niece's wedding. It is super hip for boys to wear pink and we wanted to go casual for this Colorado wedding. They do run small but at this price I am okay with ordering again. It's not SO small that they can't wear them day to day. They were shipped quickly and the product seems very high quality. Waiting on some other items that I will review. So Far So Good. Thanks MyCubanStore!

(legalese)

The black birds outside tell me it's Spring. It's Ornithorgasmic.

The weather here is questionable.  It threatens constantly.  Cloudly, rainy, snowy.  It's just questionable.  But today I experienced it.  The sign of Spring.  The black birds in my backyard are busy.  Some are flaunting, some are chasing, some are fleeing.  They are BUSY!  It reminded me that Winter won't last forever.

Baby birds are being created.  There is a whole lot of ornitho-foreplay happening in my backyard.  It makes me happy when blue skies are gray......


I am hopeful, not horny, birds don't do it for me.

Gene Autry was known to wear Easter bonnets.

Okay not Gene Autry.  But you get where I am going with this.  We have decided to boycott the Bunny since 13 year old is still dragging out Santa and my pocketbook refuses to buy anymore crap.  Seriously, my wallet bitch-slapped me at Wal-Mart and told me "NO MORE CRAP!"  It was thrilling.

Wishing you and yours a Happy Easter.  My frig smells like hard boiled eggs and Ladies and Gentleman, that's not a good thing.  Farts and green grass to you.  Right now, it's snowing!  Ugh, oy, and you gotta be f__ing kiddin' me!