Mrs. Lazarus

In all the questions/answer stuff I've been going through, this is by far the best:
Q: "Why do you feel so certain that your husband was going to murder you and put your body in the furnace?"

A: "I knew cause he done it once before"

Better than

You know what is the upside of the car accident I had just before Christmas a few years ago? The accident that put an end to half of my Christmas baking and made the childless holiday even worse than usual? You don't know? Well, I'll tell you: it is that when you have butter tart disaster that means tossing out a dozen tarts, and a dog tripping incident that ends up in pain and blood (mine, not the dog's so relax) but no actual stitches or anything, it doesn't seem so bad.

I mean, yeah, now I'll have to make yet more tarts. And yes, I'm walking with a limp that I am trying to think of as intersting instead of feeble but all in all so what? Not in hospital, I have time to make more tarts and I'm not running in any races this week. As far as I know. So even if it is a bit frustrating it is still better than the year of the crash, as I think of it.

And this is a great year so far; kids are with me, we have lots of lovely white snow, the tree looks awesome and smells fantastic and I get to play Christmas music without any complaints about it being out of season. Heaven help us if Lyn and I ever live together it would be carols year round. And we'd be round because I'd be baking tarts and cakes year round to go with the music.

Why, Ky?

Last night’s dream wasn’t a musical, but it also wasn’t a nightmare so that’s good. It was, however, one of those dreams where someone appears and says something heavy with import. That has happened before; once it prompted me to do something that changed my life, and once it helped me cope with tragedy. This time though, the message is…ambiguous. Or at least it is if it is supposed to carry some terribly serious second meaning.

I was in a regular saving-the-world dream when Ky appeared and said “The Smaller the Leaf, The Shorter the Steep”.

Now, that is a totally accurate statement. And it is something I am aware of, so I didn’t really need to be told again. But she was saying it with such fervent intent, that clearly my sleeping self is trying to tell my waking self something. But what?

Ladylike, if possible

I would have chosen something other than a skirt slit up the sides heels and a white sweater to wear to work today if I knew I was going to be on the floor on my back. Which sounds promising, albeit somewhat immodest. What was actually happening was me fixing the microprinter (which was fair enough as I broke it). But it would have been easier in jeans and a t-shirt.

Cupids second choice. Possibly even first

I would say that a brilliant first date activity would be something that involved moonlight and water. But the second best date activity is tobogganing. I have known this since I was fifteen or so. For those of you that don't believe me, here's there reasoning:

You not only get to sit close, you HAVE to.
In order to stay on said toboggan, one must wrap one's arms around one's date. Possibly even legs, if the toboggan is long enough and the hill high enough!

Because you need cold and snow to toboggan, your eyes sparkle and your cheeks get all rosy. Even the undead look healthy and happy tobogganing. Actual living people look awesome.
The other great thing about the cold is that it is almost always a given that there must be hot chocolate somewhere afterwards, so said date gets prolonged.

There are some things you shouldn't do, though. For instance don't, on the first run, accidentally break the nose of the person you're there with. Because nothing puts the kibosh or romance like blood and pain. I speak from experience here. As if that's a surprise in any way.

Gliddy Glub Gloopy

I was thinking about the nutbar from yesterday's post and realized that there are things I do that make people think I'm crazy too. Some of them I recognize and some of them I'd probably be surprised to think that someone thinks they're crazy-like. When did this obvious thought occur to me?

In the middle of making banana bread french toast, when I took advantage of being the only one awake to do a happy dance in the kitchen whilst singing along to "Good Morning Starshine". And I am not -NOT- apologizing for the jollity. Keep in mind that this is the same person who as a child built a go-cart and christened it The Happymobile.

And by the way...if you ever happen to have left-over banana bread (which is rare in my house, as I have a teenage boy who consumes the usual amount of food that teenage boys consume), banana bread french toast is yumilicious. And in the same vein, try strawberry jam omelette. Hot and jammy and totally comforting. And apparently just what A. wanted at eleven last night when he asked for something "warm and yummy and...not too much work". Oh come on, you would have made him something too; he said please, and looked the way people tend to when they're chilled and hungry and tired and getting over a cold and just looking for love. I'm just saying, should you be looking for something to make some brunch give banana bread french toast a try. And if you're trying to impress someone, try serving it with maple-butter with pecans. I will divulge the recipe for maple butter (because it isn't actually what one normally calls maple butter) if you ask. And if you've had a hard day and look cold and needy and tired I might even just make you some french toast. Or jam omelette.

We iz all just peeple

Just to give you fair warning: I am going to slap the next person I hear say anything with "these people" or "those people" or "that sort" as part of a sentence. Basically the next sweeping generalization I hear will be met with the whole weight of a month's worth of irritation. I mean really, where would I be if I assumed all Americans were as dumbs as hammers, just because the two down the hall are? Or all men were copies of the pinhead? I'd be losing out on some interesting friends is what would be happening. So there.