Have You Ever?

Have you ever mistaken laxatives for sinus medicine? Neither have I. But someone in my house did. Let me tell you, something's loose alright and it isn't his sinuses.

Right before this episode Craig was making fun because his college GPA was higher than mine. I could be spiteful and vindictive and remind him of that- but I'll just let it pass. Get it, "Let it pass". Ha. Ha.

I told him this was definitely going on the blog. Until my Dad sees this post and makes me remove it. He likes Craig more than me.

You do too Daddy, I can tell.

Tubes

We are back from Family Camp. Yes, we did have fun. More on that later.

More importantly, today Landon got his second set of tubes put in his ears. The first set was very traumatic. First of all, our Doctor was older than the Marion Public Library. He told me Landon's ears were the worst he had seen in years, and that Landon was a behavior problem. I about punched him in the stomach, but I was afraid I'd kill him. Or cause him to wet his Depends, so I just let it go. I'm good about that. Just letting go. No grudges here. Also, making it hard was Landon's adverse reaction to anesthesia.

Today was similar. We thought the coast was clear- evidently it wasn't. He threw up out the window of the Burger King drive through(while we were being waited on). Not exactly the best place to be.

He's feeling better now. His first sentence just now was, "Spencer I got some medicine stuck up my butt". Like it's some sort of cool club Spencer can't be a part of.

I'm so thankful for my healthy boys. If this is the worst we have to endure we're doing quite well.

Excitement In The Air

I shouldn't be on the computer. Nor should I have stayed up til 2 am reading a book in my closet. As I type, "99 Red Balloons" the remixed techno version thumps from Craig's office and the dog yips in the back yard.

Picture if you will, the Beverly Hillbillies. You know how "they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly". That's us. We've loaded up the truck and we're moving to our cabin for the next 7 days. I wish I could show you what our car looks like. Bikes, clothes, a swimming pool, food, etc. with a dog hanging out the window. We're taking back roads because Craig can't see out any windows- it's so packed. But it's ok cause he's tall. If he holds his head out the window he can see pretty well.

Around the campfire tonight I'll beg Rob to let me use his phone with Internet. I'll check my sites and maybe update you with some fascinating Fairmount Camp Highlights. I'm praying that my parents surprise me and show up even though they said they couldn't come. Hint. Hint.

Country Club

I called my friend today and offered to take her daughter to the country club. Her response was...

"You don't seem to be a country club kind of girl"

Ok, let's stop this post right now. What in the tar hill is that supposed to mean? I'm not country club? I am soooo country club I can't stand myself. Are you insinuating that I am hillbilly? Is this about my famous uncle? Are you people jealous because I'm on the verge of becoming popular and may one day get-to-know my uncle and be on his show? It could happen.

5 reasons I am so country club:
1. I own two (2) pair of silver shoes- one flat, one pump.
2. I hold my pinky out when I drink my Polar pops.
3. I eat fillet Mignon (Aldis, frozen foods section 1.99)
4. I drink my tea out of country club glasses. I do.
5. When I go to fancy hotels I never bring home their shampoos or soaps. Just their towells.

See, there's your evidence, I am country club. I am.

Name Dropper

I've always been a name dropper. One time when I lived in Chicago I knew this girl that was an extra in some movie. I can't remember the movie or the girl's name, but I still tell people I knew someone who was in a movie. Oh, and one time my Mom and I saw a bunch of women running through a store in Chicago chasing Sylvester Stalone. So now I tell people I saw women chasing a celebrity. Never saw the celebrity- but I was pretty close to seeing a celebrity.

Anyway, today I was watching CMT. Yes, Country Music Television. It was on ok. I saw this preview for Mabe in America. It caught my eye because Mabe is my maiden name. The guy on the show's name was Tom Mabe. Hmmm. That sounds familiar. So, I called my Mom.

me: "Mom, what's Daddy's brothers name?"
Mom: "oh, I forgot to tell you, Tom Mabe, and he has a show and you act just like him. You know, you're crazy like that"

So I watched the show. He is kinda funny. Better at improv than scripted. But Mom, I act like that? No. The only thing I MAY have in common are my bug eyes, big head, and we both own remote control fart machines. WHICH WAS A GIFT FROM MY SISTER.

I don't know if I'd recommend the show- but as his niece, I find it kinda interesting.

I do think my cousin Jennifer looks and acts just like him.

Best Friends

Sad News

We had Sister Francis put to sleep today. Evidently running away was a sign that she was very sick. I found her having a seizure Tuesday night and then this morning she was having another one that lasted at least an hour- she was still having it when the vet put her down.

I know animals are animals. They are not people. There are people suffering all around me- and that is much more horrific than losing your cat of 12 years. But Franny was a part of our family and she will be missed.

What To Wear....

Spencer is celebrating his 9th birthday today. He chose to go rock climbing. Should I wear my silver glitter ballet shoes or gold cross tie sandals with the leopard print soles?

Cooking With Shannon

Like my apron? My wonderful mother made this for me. I like wearing aprons. They make me feel important. Don't I look like I'm about to whip up something impressive?

I haven't asked Mom, but I'm sure she'd love to trade her hand made apron for something you've made. Yes you, Victoria. Or Janice. Or all you other talented people. Mom has an array of aprons- she let me pick because I'm her favorite oldest daughter.


Here's Spencer, making fun of my posing.





In honor of our country's Independence, I stretched myself and figured out a way to use 6 sticks of butter in one recipe. Tomorrow I shall share it will all my lucky friends.

9 Lives and 5 Hail Mary's Later...

Sister Francis is back with her people. I was so happy to see her, I gave her a fresh bowl of water and some special cuddle time. Not a scratch to be found. I think it was a matter of pride- as Garfield once said,

"It's hard being humble when you're a cat".

So true, Garfield... So true.

Sister Francis. Missing.

This is serious. I woke up this morning and let the dog out. Out in the yard there was a huge pile of cat hair. Big piles, clumps, all over the place. And then blood on the cushion of our wicker sofa.

"Has anyone seen the cat?"

No one has seen Franny since yesterday. Over 24 hours. Our old, one-eyed Franny is missing and it doesn't look good. I sat on the edge of our lawn tonight and called and called into the woods for my little Franny. Nothing.


I'm starting to worry. Stay tuned for more Franny updates.

It's Not A Party 'Til Somebody Does The Hand Bone.

When I was around the age of 4, my parents turned from their wicked ways and became christians. Their lives as they knew them were changed. Except for the occasional smoke behind the clothes line (sorry Mom)- they totally had committed themselves and our family to a new life. I'm grateful for this. In fact, if it weren't for this decision- I'm sure today I would be selling giant brown panda blankets, dream catchers, and my "art pieces" on the side of the road- while balancing a naked baby wearing only a diaper on my hip. Wearing tight short shorts with my muffin top hanging out.

But, I remember the parties. Oh yes I do. Guitars everywhere. Beer. "Oh, here comes Mamaw Hazie- quick put the beer in the wood burning stove." Those parties. Really not much went on except a lot of guitar tuning. I mean, somebody get those people a tuner. Because that's all they did for 3 hours. For 3 hours they'd all try to get their guitars tuned together so they could play- "In The Garden". Later we'd hear some Johnny Cash or maybe Hank Williams, Sr. Which by the way- what's up with Hank Sr.? Was Prozac not invented then? Because he really needed some. Later, I'm sure after a couple alcoholic beverages, Daddy would pull out the "Hand Bone". (You Tube it.)