Glow-Up Snowmen and Houses of Distinction December 20, 2009

Let it be known: I love me some Christmas lights.  Despite my intense hatred of cold, I kind of love winter and all the fantastic things it brings; to wit, Christmas lights, ice skating, sledding, and snow day road anarchy.  I even fancy a little snow, and wouldn’t mind going cross country skiing or snowshoeing if I didn’t think I’d die.

But, the point of this is Christmas lights.  I wanted to post about my idea of Christmas light -fail-, but believe it or not, I couldn’t find a single example in Rocketdog, Rocketpuppy, and Danger Kitty’s annual light night.  So I’ll have to describe it, which isn’t nearly as much fun as seeing it.  Actually, seeing it isn’t very fun either, so I guess describing is okay.

Christmas light FAIL is the house that half-assedly throws a string of lights on a tree.  One tree.  Perhaps they are hoping for some sort of Jackson Pollack-esque result, but in my eyes it is sad and pathetic.  This isn’t even a result of not heeding my life saying: Go big, or go home (Actually, it’s “If you’re going to go down, go down in flames,” but I feel that’s in poor taste when discussing Christmas decorations).  The single strand, single tree is even more pathetic than Charlie Brown’s tree.  Honestly, if that’s all you’re going to do, keep the lights in the box where they belong.

But this post would be nothing without examples of what I think are awesome light displays which typically fall into two categories.

Impressive:

Infamous house of the Reindeer Birthday Party

Sorry so shaky, all pictures from our night were taken from the car, without a tripod.  Since it was night photography, the shutter is open longer, making photos more prone to blurring.

The Reindeer Birthday party was a couple years ago.  This house is no longer nearly as impressive as it was then.  Apparently the economy has hit even the reindeer.  The story behind the name is that Rocketdog and I found our way into a neighborhood with “houses of distinction.”  As we got further down the road, we ran into tons of parked cars.  Then parked animal trailers.  I can’t remember if we actually saw reindeer, but I decided it had to be a reindeer birthday party, and it stuck.  That was also the year of the mausoleum-like life-sized crèche.  The recession has been bad for over-the-top celebrations.

And….

Houses that Vomited Christmas:

House that Vomited Christmas III

I decided to post House III first because it photographed the best.  That house had EVERYTHING, including dancing icicle lights.  These weren’t your standard strands that hang down to look like icicles… These were plastic-formed icicles with lights inside.  Amazing.  They had the lights set to move almost as if the icicles were dripping.  They also had a huge star somehow mounted a good 50 feet above their house.  It was probably in a tree, but I’m thinking it was actually an act of God. (Or a Christmas miracle, if you will)

The original House That Vomited Christmas (the reason we drove up to my neighborhood, anyway) is thus:

HTVC I

This house makes me eternally happy.  It was one of the first things I fell in love with in my neighborhood.  I love me some lights.  Yo.  They leave it up a really long time after Christmas too.

HTVC II

HTVC II photographed really poorly, so I will leave you with this:  They actually took the time to decorate their RV.  That’s dedication.  There’s also a flying santa above the RV.

HTVC IV

Then you’ve got your blow-up lawn schlock.  Which is sort of a cheating version of vomiting Christmas, but vomitous nonetheless.  Apparently either winter snow people are either fans of Tony Stewart, or this family got their blow-ups from Home Depot.  Either way, the pit crew in the background was adorable.

By now you’re probably wondering, “What the hell did she mean by glow-up‽  Glow-up isn’t even a word!”  Well, it wasn’t a word.  Not until I made it a word on the first night of Hanukkah (because we felt it fitting to go look at lights to kick off the festival of lights.  Which we do not celebrate).  Glow-up is my new name for those hard plastic lawn ornaments that glow.  Glow-up.  The only thing close to Christmas light fail we saw all night was a single glow-up snowman at the end of a driveway at one of the Houses of Distinction (Reindeer birthday party’s neighbor).  However, since you wouldn’t be able to see the house in the picture, it just wouldn’t have been effective.

My second to last picture doesn’t categorize well.  It’s not impressive, and it’s not vomitous.  It’s just a head-scratcher.

Sticks in a Bucket

This is one of Rocketdog’s neighbors.  Since the year she and BILOSORD moved in, this house has been known as “Sticks in a Bucket.”  Even during the summer.  There’s just no better name for the display or the house.  They are literally sticks.  In buckets.  They show up at Thanksgiving every year without fail.  It’s almost comforting.

Last, but not least, is the second-most impressive Christmas display I’ve ever seen.  I would have put it up top with the Impressives, but it deserved to be a finale.  It speaks for itself, I think, so I shall leave you now.  My bread is almost done baking.  Nom.

NaNoWriMo…? November 2, 2009

A couple weeks ago I had a dream.  It was kind of a crap ass dream, and I mentioned it on facebook.  A friend, who is far more of a writer than I am, told me it sounded like the basis for a great story.  I got to thinking she was quite right.  Then I realized November was only a few days away, and maybe I’d consider the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).

Then I realized that’s not at all possible.  At all.  For starters, I have a hard time focusing on anything.  Secondly, I’ve got a costume to make, because I’m suddenly obsessed with Steampunk, and it gives me a new excuse to make stuff.  But this story refuses to die, which is fine.  I’m not sure I’m the person to give it life, but I did dream it, so I figure I have to try.

Therefore, I’ve decided to rename November for myself: AtToWriSoMo: Attempt to write something month.  And so it begins.  Maybe.  If I can remember how to write.

How we do September 8, 2009

Friday was the first time I hit the Minnesota State Fair.  We had to be there by 10:30 to get seats to Tonic Sol-Fa. They’re a great a cappella group that hails from MN, and seats always fill up fast.  We managed to find seats in the second row, right on the end, which is important with a one year old in tow.  She was able to run, dance, sit without being in the way of too many people.  Mostly just my sister, who had to get up to chase her and dance with her.  Rocketdog actually lost her seat for awhile to a woman who pushed her bags into me and sat down.  It wasn’t until Rocketpuppy tried to come over to me that the woman realized she had taken someone’s seat.  And yet, she didn’t move until the show was over.  Thanks lady.

The rest of Friday was filled with good (great!) food, lots of walking, many jokes, and bad fashion bingo.  We made up cards to cross off whenever we saw such gems as: Tie Dye (a state fair must, apparently), animal print, pimp hats, and too short short shorts.  The too short short shorts prompted BILOSORD to mention that there are a lot of hungry butt cracks at the fair.  I will also never, ever live down saying “I just need camel toe to win!”

Saturday was the only day that brought doom to my birthday weekend.  It’s also the day I almost got The Hippy and myself killed.  I hadn’t slept much the night before, or even the night before that.  I was tired–TIRED–and had spent the entire day on the verge of tears.  Because that’s how I roll.  We had a long drive up to my parents’ cabin–someplace I’d only been once in the last ten years.  Frankly, I wasn’t 100% sure how to get there, but I trusted that my mother had given me good directions.  Which was, incidentally, stupid.  There was apparently a point that I needed to turn, but no one told me that.  The Hippy said he should have figured it out, because we were going west, not north, at that point, but it didn’t occur to him.  I finally said, “I feel like we should have gotten somewhere by now,” and he said, “Me too” and thumbed the map a bit.  And I started crying.  I didn’t know where to turn around, and I was feeling frustrated.  The Hippy, while able to think very quickly under pressure, doesn’t care to have resistance in making things happen.  And I was resisting.  So his voice was rising a little.  It was the classic ‘Yelling isn’t helping”  “I’m not yelling.  You’d know if I were yelling” situation.  So I kept crying.

We finally turned around, we knew where we needed to go, but at that point the crying was completely involuntary.  Also involuntary was my breathing, which kept getting shallower and shallower until I was hyperventilating.  When I couldn’t stop, I started getting really dizzy and thought I was going to black out.  At that point, The Hippy grabbed the wheel and told me to pull over, but I pulled over sooner and much more abruptly than he would have liked.  Much further off the side of the road, and we probably would have rolled.  He kept telling me to get out of the car so he could drive, but I was afraid to move.  The last thing I wanted after almost killing us was to pass out on the side of the highway.  I eventually made it to the passenger side of the truck, and by the time we met up with my parents my breathing was back to normal, but I was spent.  It took a long time to act like a human being, but I was able to pass it off as being overtired (which wasn’t a complete lie).

Sunday was the corn feed.  We ate corn.  It was yummy.  Enough said.

Monday was another day at the fair.  Because I love the fair.  For no good reason.  But I love it.  Before we went to the fair, The Hippy needed to do some homework.  We’d gone out to buy my present on Saturday before going up north (A Kitchen Aid mixer–SQUEE!), and he came groggily into the living room saying “Happy birthday….”  I thought maybe he was going to do a little cleaning up before starting his homework, because he grabbed a piece of brown paper that a framed print had been wrapped in and wandered into the kitchen.  Then he came back into the living room carrying my giant mixer box covered with the brown paper.  “Happy birthday; I got you a present.”  He set it on my lap, and I couldn’t stop laughing.  “Open it!  Open it!” he kept saying.  It was all very cute and sweet, and I actually started tearing up a little.

Since the hyperventilation incident didn’t happen on my birthday, I consider this the first birthday in possibly forever that didn’t suck.  It was actually really awesome.  The only thing I’m disappointed about was missing out on Australian Battered Potatoes at the fair.  But at least I got a crepe this year.  And falafel.  Yum.  I can guarantee I will be making those potatoes.  Yum.  Or num num for my tum tum, as the Hippy likes to say.

Weekend Update August 31, 2009

Since this is my day off, this is my weekend… Here’s your update:

~Annoying talkative neighbor is moving today.  So sad.  Now I won’t be scared to go out into my own yard!  I don’t like being talked to by people who aren’t my friends.  I don’t do the small talk thing.  I don’t know how I’ve ever actually made friends…

~I’m going to learn sign language.  I’ve wanted to learn ASL since I was a wee beastie, and now I’m finally making it happen.  This actually somewhat goes along with the first bullet.  I’ve always wished I could just sign “Sorry, I’m deaf” when I don’t want to talk to someone.  However, it runs the risk of actually hitting someone who knows sign who then wants to carry on a conversation in sign….  Highly unlikely, but you never know.  Also, I run into so many deaf people at work, that it would be amazing to actually be able to communicate with them effectively.

~My birthday is a week from today, and the closer it gets, the more I dread it.  Not because I’m getting one year older… Screw that.  For starters, I’m not that old.  Secondly, that’s not something anyone can help, so why bother fretting?  No, I’m dreading it because every year something sucktastic happens, no matter how much I try to plan what happens (or if I don’t plan it at all).  Therefore, I have to assume that will happen this year as well.  I’m planning on going to the Minnesota State Fair with The Hippy and perhaps a few friends.  This means it will possibly rain.  Or the Hippy will be sick (again).  Or my friends will decide they hate me.

~The neighbors on the other side are also moving.  I could care less.  They’re annoying, but it won’t be terribly different… Her sister is moving in instead.  Frankly, they don’t bother me as much as the talker.  While they’re noisy, lazy, jobless…. *ahem* They leave me alone.  And leaving me alone is important sometimes.

That is pretty much it.  Yawn.

Misc around the house August 24, 2009

Life is all work work work, play a little, go to the cabin a little, work some more.  The weeks keep flying by, and I have no idea where they’re going.  It’s funny how life at work can seem like it’s going so freaking slow, but then I turn around and the summer is over.  My birthday is in exactly two weeks, and no matter how old I get, that still means school is just around the corner.  Summer has been relatively good to me, though, despite all that working business and the speeding by business.

Bountiful harvest.  I would say that I have more cucumbers than I know what to do with, but I can easily eat on of these in a sitting.  They do not go to waste.  I might, however, end up with more tomatoes than I can handle, but I have some great recipes in mind.  I will have to work fast, though!

There is an airport nearish my house (not only has my official address been the same block my entire life, but I’ve also lived near an airport my entire life.  And a train track.  It’s a requirement), so there is always interesting aircraft flying around my neighborhood.  I made a rare trip outside of my house for something other than work last weekend, and was thankful I had randomly decided to pack my camera in my purse the night before.  As it turns out, I NEVER carry my camera around.  I just don’t ever think to take pictures.  But I managed to get a picture of the Good Year Blimp while I was driving.  I’m pretty sure I took that picture at a stop light, because the ones actually taken while moving turned out poorly.

That lovely vision of shit greets me every time I step out of my house.  My neighbors are absolute rubbish, and their lawn reflects it.  This picture was taken (by the Hippy while I was gone; apparently my camera was more convenient) on a particularly bad day.  Turns out my neighbor and her children are moving!  Hooray!  Oh, but wait.  Her sister is moving in instead.  WTF? (or FTW? if you’re a wench)  So, sadly, it will be the same shit, same people, same nonsense.

Okay, summer has been MOSTLY good to me.  With the exception of the neighbor thing.  I also got a new washer–no pictures, because, well, it’s a washer–for nearly free.  It was in the renter’s side because it was “broken,” according to the woman who sold the house.  Hippy figured out what was wrong, got a $60 part for it, and WHAMO!  Even better washer than the one I’d been using.

Weekend Highlights July 23, 2009

Spent a long weekend (okay, five days, but in my head it’s still a weekend) at The Hippy’s family’s cabin.  It was The Hippy’s birthday Tuesday, so we Hippy-ed it up.  The best of:

• Shooting stars while I could still look at the sky (also known as: “Oh!  Falling bits of space debris hitting our atmosphere and burning up!  Make a wish, honey!”)
• The Hippy getting a good amount of playtime in with his nephew.  Exhibit A:

The boys watching Clifford

• Geocaching–finding two of four caches we set out to find.  There were a few others we wanted to find but weather, batteries, and an inability to find the right trail kept us from doing so.  We’re convinced the ones we couldn’t find had been removed, damaged, or muggled.
• Four-wheeling, which is eternally awesome.  Flying that a million miles an hour (okay, 25-30) going over bumps and getting great air.  Was going to learn how to drive it, but I ended up getting injured and lost my four-wheeling nerve.  I still rode it, mind you, because it’s freaking FUN, but I didn’t want to do anything more to risk killing myself.
• So, that’s the second time I’ve alluded to injuring myself…  While going over a set of bumps that were way too close together for the speed we were going (oops) my chin became very close friends with The Hippy’s shoulder blade.  For a split second I was certain I’d just dislocated my jaw–I felt it push backward when I hit.  Then I realized all the pain was in my neck and my head.  The Hippy didn’t realize how much I’d been hurt (also used to ATV-ing with his brainless friend), so he kept going, which amplified the pain in my neck and skull.  I finally got him to pull over so I could rest a little.  Thankfully we were almost at the end of the train and would very quickly be on pavement, but the remaining bumps were absolutely killer, even though he was crawling at a snail’s pace.
• Playing cribbage while under the influence of a rather strong painkiller.  Thankfully, The Hippy’s dad was feeling equally as foggy, so I didn’t feel so stupid when I couldn’t remember how to count.  Or use my fingers.  I did feel kind of embarrassed when I would start giggling and not be able to stop, though.  And I still managed to win the second game.
• No amount of painkillers–not even the strong ones–would touch the pain in my neck, so I stopped taking them.  For the most part, I’m able to move my neck without much pain now.  Only when I put my head back does it hurt.  Hence not being able to look at the stars.
• Seeing what we think is the International Space Station (or maybe the latest shuttle) fly overhead on The Hippy’s birthday.  I was able to see it before it went too far behind me.  The times check out, and it definitely wasn’t an airplane or your average satellite.

Finally…  This has nothing to do with my long weekend other than I found this video when I came home…  I remember hearing this song on KDWB when I was a kid; I even called in once to request it.  Because I botched the call so badly (mixed up the name of the song for the artist and had to be corrected by the person who took my call), this song has haunted me long past even remembering how the song went.  Until now, thanks to CrowBiz, even though she is staunchly against any English version.  Enjoy.

I’m a late bloomer….. June 24, 2009

*har*

Our dirt finally arrived.  We spent a good four hours hauling dirt from our parking pad to the two gardens in our yard.  Our renter helped for about half the time, which was awesome and much appreciated, even though it made The Hippy feel guilty.  I told him to quit worrying because she wanted to help.

Because our dirt came way later than I ever thought it would, I decided to run to the nursery this afternoon to get myself some pre-grown veggies.  Lucky me, they were half off!  I’m still nervous about whether they will be successful, but I tried to pick things that had a shorter maturity time.

Front row: sweet basil, oregano, parsley.  Back row: Rhubarb, chocolate mint

Front row: Melon (I think it’s watermelon), cucumber x2, tomato.  Back row: Melon (honeydew… maybe.  They could be switched), squash (spaghetti and acorn, don’t remember the order), tomato

Planting went fast, but it was incredibly annoying.  Why?

BARK BARK BARK BARK STFU BARK BARK BARK

As it turns out, I really don’t like dogs all that much.  And I especially don’t like dogs that don’t like me.  I’m not sure if glaring at them made things worse, but hoses were a good temporary fix…  Until they started barking again.

I’ve had flowers going in my yard for a month or so now.  Just haven’t gotten around to mentioning them….

Moss roses, aster, and snap dragons.  If you’re wondering why they aren’t in the dirt, well, that’s reserved for my beloved moonflowers.  Provided they actually grow.  I’ll be sad if they don’t.  Right now there’s stuff growing, but for the most part, I can’t tell if they’re weeds or moon flowers.

Not a terribly impressive photo, but this is my pride and joy right now.  I bought this black-eyed susan vine because it was stunning.  STUNNING.  Don’t believe me? See what they look like here.  Only mine is yellow and orange.  We went away the weekend after memorial day and it was HOT all weekend (here… not up north where we were).  Didn’t think to bring my plant inside, and the renter was gone so no one watered.  It was a brown withered mess when we got home.  But careful watch, grooming, and watering has bounced my baby back.  It now has one flower, another on the way, and tons of new growth.

See all that shit in the background of that picture?  We’re on the hunt for shrubs and other plants to cover up our view of the neighbors’ yards (both sides).  We want to go outside in peace and to enjoy the view.  I got one shrub today, but I want The Hippy to help pick everything else out.  Anyone have a favorite shrub?  Lilacs are very, very low on my list because we have a huge lilac bush along the alley.

Who’s the Hippie Here? June 8, 2009

I’ve been calling The Hippy The Hippy for over four years now, and for the most part it’s unfounded.  I call him that because very early in our relationship (second date while ice skating around a little pond) he called himself a hippie and it stuck.  He later spelled it hippy in an IM chat, though I prefer hippie–hence the spelling.  He is incredibly liberal and incredibly active in politics.  He’s also a conspiracy theorist who had really long hair until a year ago.  But that’s where the similarities ended.  He’s quite preppy, wants to be stinking rich, and doesn’t like hacky sack.  He hates folk music and being around people.  He is also meat+potatoes+junk food.

No.  If anyone in our house is the hippie, it’s me.  Given my druthers, I would cook whole wheat everything.  I would have vegetarian days (but I wouldn’t be veg.  I love me some meat) and I would conserve and recycle like mad.  I love folk music, and I think the *idea* of living in a commune or participating in a co-op are amazing (in practice, however, I know communes especially are terrible, terrible ideas for the most part).

To fulfill the requirements of one of my hippie badges, I felt I really, really, really needed to make granola.  I scoured the internet for recipes that used only things I currently had on hand.  I found this one, and decided to give it a shot.  I highly, highly recommend it.  It cooked up super fast, and even though I didn’t have molassass, it turned out great.  I substituted syrup, and it seems just fine.  Dumping in a bunch of coconut was the final touch.

In the tradition of DK’s cooking, I hurt myself.  Rather severely this time–or at least it feels that way…

Left hand shot, sorry so crappy

It doesn’t look like much, but it hurts like hell.  I hit the side of the pot as I was dumping out the granola.  I am currently sitting here with an ice pack wrapped around my arm.  It’s the only way the burn doesn’t rub on things as I type.

Yeah, yeah, I know… You didn’t come here to see pictures of my clumsiness.  Onto the goods!

Mmmmm, barry goodness

I read in the comments that this was a great recipe to press and cut into bars, so that’s my intention.  My taste of it so far comes in cleaning off the spoon.  It needed a good, thorough cleaning, to be sure.  I haven’t yet cut into the bars, but I doubt they’ll last long.

Good thing I got that Wii Fit……

Now I just need to use it…. May 26, 2009

For the first time in at least a decade, I have a library card.  I lost mine, found mine, and lost it again, so I figured since I had moved I would just pretend I was a new person.  I can’t get in too much trouble, right?

I put it off for so long because I am terrible with books.  For starters, I like to keep books.  I may never read them again, but it’s comforting to know I can if I want to.  Secondly, I take forever to read books.  It’s not uncommon for me to have multiple books going at once, and it often takes me months to read them.  This is also why I don’t care for borrowing books from friends.  Third, I’m hard on books.  I like to dog-ear.  I often spill (usually water, but sometimes soda).  I drop them in bathtubs (but I figure since my new bathtub sucks and I haven’t taken a bath since February, this shouldn’t be an issue).  This is also why I don’t like to borrow from friends, ha.

But I figure, there’s more to libraries than books.  There’s museum passes, and CDs, and DVDs.  There’s audiobooks, probably, which I find hard to keep up with because I always see shiny things and forget to listen, but the option is there.

So.. yay me.  It’s been a long time coming (as Rocketdog can attest).

Quickie May 25, 2009

Spent yesterday out in the yard putting in flowers.  When my plants look like more than just slightly brighter splotches on the dark soil, I’ll grab a picture or two, but in the meantime I want to share my first major gardening success EVAH.

Wee tomato!

It is, perhaps, hard to see him in the picture… I had to grab the picture fast before the sprinkler came back to get me.  Behind him is the future home of my raised bed garden.  I think this week we’re going to work on getting dirt into the gardens.  We’ve been remiss, to say the least.