Cookie Stir

Who knew all this fuss over a box of cookies could raise such a ruckus? Well it did. And then I got to thinking...we love our cookies...don't we? That's where the passion comes from. (And goes straight to my hips & thighs...oh heck...I even have back fat!)

After revealing Lorna Doone's to my poor sister, another sister reminisced about Lemon Coolers. Oohhh, I could eat a whole box of those in one sitting just for memories sake. Really, I could. (I'm sure I have!)

I'm truly not a huge fan of store-bought cookies. I'll confess to pulling out a batch of Nestle Tollhouse already made just cut and bake on a semi-regular basis and claiming the fanfare I receive from bringing that smell into the kitchen. But I only like those when they're warm.

But I do love a pinwheel. Marshmallowey goodness sitting atop a crumbly graham cracker cookie, topped with chocolate. Delish. And you can't really make those. Smores don't taste the same. Love 'em. That's a special treat once in a blue moon.

So I'm wondering, what's your favorite store-bought cookie? No contest, just curious?! And if you don't know what it is, Grapefruit, it's time you frequented that aisle of the grocery store just to stay informed. It's how the other half lives.

Homecoming Beauties

Mal's first homecoming dance with friends...while not official princesses...they are sure gorgeous!

For My Sister...

...who lives under a ROCK! (And at the grocery store...HOW did you not know this???)

May the Force Be With You

Am I the Only One NOT on Vacation?

It seems everyone is on vacation. Everyone but me. This is the time of year my head starts to spin, dreaming of long walks on a sandy beach, far from home. Late breakfasts that lead into lunch after a slow start to an unplanned day. A day that doesn't include alarm clarks and bag lunches, soccer practices and hours of homework, loads of laundry, and meals to plan.

It's still hot here. I mean, HOT. That isn't helping. The heat just seems to go on forever. I hear my wallet draining every time the A/C kicks on. I'm ready to make a big pot of soup and yet couldn't bear to sit down and eat it. The pool isn't done yet, and even if it were, the sun is setting earlier, so it won't nearly heat up to a degree that I could bear to don my Polar Bear suit and jump in.

Knowing others close to me are on vacation when none of that is within months of me enjoying it is like torture. Jealousy...I'm admitting it. Not beneath it. There's just that feeling of freedom and pure happiness while on vacation with my family. The kids seem happier (and I have pretty durn happy kids), my husband seems more relaxed (and he is), and I feel joy on a minutely basis. And it goes by so quickly.

There are things to look forward to. I heard today was the first day of Autumn which excites me. I've got 26 fall scented candles burning to celebrate. I'm thinking of pumpkin patches and pumpkin muffins. Apple cider and popcorn balls. The excitement of a holiday approaching. And then another one and another one.

Today, however, I'm stewing in my pot of self-pity and how unlucky I am to not be on vacation today. No, no. Don't try and make me feel better. It wouldn't work. Plus, I've been out with the stomach flu and nursing another back to health as well. I'm past feeling better. And when I've made up my mind, forgetaboutit.

Unless. Unless. You brought me a souvenier. Some token of hope that vacation will soon again be upon me. Renew me. Replenish me. No pressure. My folks are coming for a visit soon and I don't want to mislead them into thinking I meant a can of Reliv. Nope. Just something fun. A symbol.

I know...a LOTTO ticket!

If It's Not One Thing...

...it's the cat. Or the dog. For Pete's sake. What would a week be without problems? I guess life would be boring.

But here's a new one for me. For someone who is NOT the great lover of either cats nor dogs, it just seems it's my burden to bear living with one of each. My cat greatly outweighs my dog 2 to 1, and now I might just know why.

Last night, in typical fashion, I was awakened by my loving husband's...snoring. (C'mon...I wouldn't blog about that!) Anyway, without a second thought, I moved to the family room couch for a little tv to put me back to sleep. I did fall asleep only to be awakened, this time, by our cat. Nibbling on the dog's leftover niblets. Could THIS be the reason that:

a) he's scratched his fur off the right side of his face and his right eye is practically swollen shut;

b) he's 400 pounds!

Well, it's a yes to both. Thanks to modern medicine, a slow-release medicine was injected into his body so I don't have to try and force feed a cat a pill every day for 2 weeks. Really, is there anything that might be worse than that? It's enough that I'm required to shave my legs on a semi-regular basis.

And while I've no real love lost on my pets, you wouldn't know it by the amount of money I pour into them taking them to the vet. After broken legs, rattlesnake bites, vomiting spells, and now allergic reactions to foods, I could have put these animals through a really nice Associates program at our local community college and given them an academic future! Hope there's some left over for the kids who can actually read and write when it's there turn.

Good thing I have my candles to make me feel better...

The Big 4-0!

You can figure out who's 40 inthis picture? Can't you? I know, annoying, huh?

She looks pretty durn good, my sis. Here, now, she greets the tender age of 40. A few laugh lines around her eyes, but that is about it. The rest of her screams 20.

But let me issue a warning to 40+ year olds who have gone before you. And this is just a partial list:

***You don't change tires, you add them.

***You think you're pregnant, but that's just your body welcoming you to the decade you're in now.

***You're hot, no wait, you're cold. No, now I'm sweating. I'm hot. Geez, did someone turn on the air?

***Ohhhhhhhhh, um, oh. Ugh, brother. Heartburn.

***Welcome to the world of flaxseed.

***You go to the movies and sleep through half of it...it's the darkest, quietest place you've been in a long time.

***You grow hairs on your big toe. Keep those socks and shoes on!

***People start calling you M'am. And Mrs. And they start guessing your age wrong...on the other end.

But here's the thing. You get to sit back on your laurels more. You're wiser, and picking your battles just got easier. People start to open the door more for you, and you start to let them load the groceries into your car, because you've earned it.

And...you've earned lunch on me...so treat yourself. Wish I was there to pick up the tab! (But remember, I'm still older.)

Happy Birthday, you PYT!