The Importance of Being Prue…

Prue has become my most valued sidekick.  I love all of my furry kids.  However, Prue is the one that is always with me.  She follows me wherever I got, listens to all of my stories without judgment, and can always be counted on to snuggle with me at night.  Everyone needs a Prue, esp when going through the process of trying to change your life.

Through all of my recent self and life evaluation, she has consistently been by my side.  She really is woman’s best friend.

 

XO,

 

Boo

When it snows, you have two choices, shovel, or make snow angels…

I love the snow.  I woke up this morning to a new blanket of white and though it is a pain in the arse to drive in, it makes the world look clean and magical.

How boring would it be if we just had to look at dead foliage and empty tree branches until Spring?  There is beauty in everything.

 

I just may have to make a snow angel this morning…

 

XO

 

Boo

Thanksgiving Fun Facts

From our Friends at the History Channel…

Thanksgiving Fun Facts

Over the Years

Though many competing claims exist, the most familiar story of the first Thanksgiving took place in Plymouth Colony, in present-day Massachusetts, in 1621. More than 200 years later, President Abraham Lincoln declared the final Thursday in November as a national day of thanksgiving. Congress finally made Thanksgiving Day an official national holiday in 1941.

Sarah Josepha Hale, the enormously influential magazine editor and author who waged a tireless campaign to make Thanksgiving a national holiday in the mid-19th century, was also the author of the classic nursery rhyme “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”

In 2001, the U.S. Postal Service issued a commemorative Thanksgiving stamp. Designed by the artist Margaret Cusack in a style resembling traditional folk-art needlework, it depicted a cornucopia overflowing with fruits and vegetables, under the phrase “We Give Thanks.”

On the Roads

Despite record-high gas prices (more than $3.00 per gallon) in 2007, the American Automobile Association (AAA) estimated that 38.7 million Americans would travel 50 miles or more from home for the Thanksgiving holiday, a slight increase (1.5 percent) over the previous year.

Of those Americans traveling for Thanksgiving in 2007, approximately 80 percent (31.2 million) were expected to go by motor vehicle, 12.1 percent (4.7 million) by airplane and the rest (2.8 million) by train, bus or other mode of transportation.

On the Table

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, Minnesota is the top turkey-producing state in America, with a planned production total of 49 million in 2008. Just six states—Minnesota, North Carolina, Arkansas, Virginia, Missouri and Indiana—will probably produce two-thirds of the estimated 271 million birds that will be raised in the U.S. this year.

The National Turkey Federation estimated that 46 million turkeys—one fifth of the annual total of 235 million consumed in the United States in 2007—were eaten at Thanksgiving.

In a survey conducted by the National Turkey Federation, nearly 88 percent of Americans said they eat turkey at Thanksgiving. The average weight of turkeys purchased for Thanksgiving is 15 pounds, which means some 690 million pounds of turkey were consumed in the U.S. during Thanksgiving in 2007.

The cranberry is one of only three fruits—the others are the blueberry and the Concord grape—that are entirely native to North American soil, according to the Cape Cod Cranberry Growers’ Association.

According to the Guinness Book of World Records, the largest pumpkin pie ever baked weighed 2,020 pounds and measured just over 12 feet long. It was baked on October 8, 2005 by the New Bremen Giant Pumpkin Growers in Ohio, and included 900 pounds of pumpkin, 62 gallons of evaporated milk, 155 dozen eggs, 300 pounds of sugar, 3.5 pounds of salt, 7 pounds of cinnamon, 2 pounds of pumpkin spice and 250 pounds of crust.

Around the Country

Three towns in the U.S. take their name from the traditional Thanksgiving bird, including Turkey, Texas (pop. 465); Turkey Creek, Louisiana (pop. 363); and Turkey, North Carolina (pop. 270).

Originally known as Macy’s Christmas Parade—to signify the launch of the Christmas shopping season—the first Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade took place in New York City in 1924. It was launched by Macy’s employees and featured animals from the Central Park Zoo. Today, some 3 million people attend the annual parade and another 44 million watch it on television.

Tony Sarg, a children’s book illustrator and puppeteer, designed the first giant hot air balloons for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in 1927. He later created the elaborate mechanically animated window displays that grace the façade of the New York store from Thanksgiving to Christmas.

Snoopy has appeared as a giant balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade more times than any other character in history. As the Flying Ace, Snoopy made his sixth appearance in the 2006 parade.

The first time the Detroit Lions played football on Thanksgiving Day was in 1934, when they hosted the Chicago Bears at the University of Detroit stadium, in front of 26,000 fans. The NBC radio network broadcast the game on 94 stations across the country–the first national Thanksgiving football broadcast. Since that time, the Lions have played a game every Thanksgiving (except between 1939 and 1944); in 1956, fans watched the game on television for the first time.

Books

 

Books – the best antidote against the marsh-gas of boredom and vacuity.  ~George Steiner

Books can be dangerous.  The best ones should be labeled “This could change your life.”  ~Helen Exley

Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

One of the best things my mother ever did for me was foster my love of reading and of books.  Once I learned how to read, she always made sure that I had plenty at my disposal.  She bought me “Classic’s for Kids” when I was in the 4th grade.  Pretty sure I was the only 4th grader who fell in love with “A Tale of Two Cities” and “The Works of Edgar Allen Poe”.  Its an amazing gift she gave me that I will forever be thankful for.

 You can escape into a book for however long you desire.   They give comfort, enjoyment, cure boredom and massage your brain into thinking.  I borrow books from the library, but I prefer to own them.  Hey, some people collect salt and pepper shakers, so no judging 🙂  I love my stack and shelves of books.  I love marking the pages.  I love re-reading a book I haven’t read in a few years and looking at it in a completley different way then I did the first time.

My good friend Nancy is a an amazing writer and published author.   When I bought her book and held it, I was in complete and utter awe.  She followed her heart’s desire and has a piece of immortality.

Someday, when I am a published author, I hope that my book is on someone’s shelf too. 

 

 

 

 Book’s are a fevered  passion of mine. 

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Songs I always sing along with…(and always have on my ipod at the ready)

1) The Gambler

2) Copa Cabana

3) You are my Sunshine

4) Werewolf in London

5) Little Less Action

6) Mambo Italiano

7) Back in Black

8) Thriller

9) Unicorn Song

10) Jingle Bells

11) 9-5

12) I am the Walrus

13) Respect

Wordless Wednesday

People Watching…

I will freely admit, that I am a people watcher.   There are times when I have to remind myself to stop staring.  People fascinate me.  Families that have multiplies completley suck in my attention.  My first encounter with this was a chance viewing of a documentary on TLC of the Duggar family.  They are #1 at top of my people watching list.  I believe at that time they only had (16) children. (http://www.duggarfamily.com)  They now have 18.  I am simply amazed and in awe.  There are mornings when I feel like I am going to have a melt down because I cannot locate my car keys, and this is when I am only worrying about getting myself out the door.    These brave individuals are raising 18 children!

There are many opinions that have been put out there about the amount of children they have had etc.  I have decided that is not for me to judge. If they are ready, willing and able, then more power to them.

The Duggars draw me in.  Even while living in a tiny ranch home with that many individuals, they seemed to have made the best of the situation and counted every one of their blessings.  That is inspiring to me.

I just cannot stop watching their shows, or reading about them.  I am a true Duggar fan.    Stay tuned for my addiction to John and Kate Plus 8…I suppose this means the Duggars were my gateway family…

Happy Halloween!!!!

Three Cackles for my favorite holiday!-Here is some interesting information from historychannel.com

 

Halloween has always been a holiday filled with mystery, magic and superstition. It began as a Celtic end-of-summer festival during which people felt especially close to deceased relatives and friends. For these friendly spirits, they set places at the dinner table, left treats on doorsteps and along the side of the road and lit candles to help loved ones find their way back to the spirit world.

Today’s Halloween ghosts are often depicted as more fearsome and malevolent, and our customs and superstitions are scarier too. We avoid crossing paths with black cats, afraid that they might bring us bad luck. This idea has its roots in the Middle Ages, when many people believed that witches avoided detection by turning themselves into cats. We try not to walk under ladders for the same reason. This superstition may have come from the ancient Egyptians, who believed that triangles were sacred; it also may have something to do with the fact that walking under a leaning ladder tends to be fairly unsafe. And around Halloween, especially, we try to avoid breaking mirrors, stepping on cracks in the road or spilling salt.

But what about the Halloween traditions and beliefs that today’s trick-or-treaters have forgotten all about? Many of these obsolete rituals focused on the future instead of the past and the living instead of the dead. In particular, many had to do with helping young women identify their future husbands and reassuring them that they would someday–with luck, by next Halloween!–be married.

In 18th-century Ireland, a matchmaking cook might bury a ring in her mashed potatoes on Halloween night, hoping to bring true love to the diner who found it. In Scotland, fortune-tellers recommended that an eligible young woman name a hazelnut for each of her suitors and then toss the nuts into the fireplace. The nut that burned to ashes rather than popping or exploding, the story went, represented the girl’s future husband. (In some versions of this legend, confusingly, the opposite was true: The nut that burned away symbolized a love that would not last.) Another tale had it that if a young woman ate a sugary concoction made out of walnuts, hazelnuts and nutmeg before bed on Halloween night, she would dream about her future husband. Young women tossed apple-peels over their shoulders, hoping that the peels would fall on the floor in the shape of their future husbands’ initials; tried to learn about their futures by peering at egg yolks floating in a bowl of water; and stood in front of mirrors in darkened rooms, holding candles and looking over their shoulders for their husbands’ faces.

Other rituals were more competitive. At some Halloween parties, the first guest to find a burr on a chestnut-hunt would be the first to marry; at others, the first successful apple-bobber would be the first down the aisle.

Of course, whether we’re asking for romantic advice or trying to avoid seven years of bad luck, each one of these Halloween superstitions relies on the good will of the very same “spirits” whose presence the early Celts felt so keenly. Ours is not such a different holiday after all!

2 More Days until My favorite holiday…

The Raven by: Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more.”Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore — For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating “‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; — This it is, and nothing more,” Presently my heart grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you” — here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore!” This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word “Lenore!” Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore — Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; — ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!” Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore — Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Nevermore.” But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered — Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before — On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Then the bird said, “Nevermore.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore — Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ‘Never-nevermore.'” But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee Respite – respite and nepenthe from the memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! — Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore — Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” “Prophet!’ said I, “thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore — Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore — Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked upstarting — “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore.

From “Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe”, 1849

The Importance of Being Oscar

Oscar has made it through his storm. Upon taking him to the vet he has been diagnosed with diabetes.
She with the most squimish stomach has learned to give insulin shots twice a day. Oskie takes them with grace and then “yells” at me for a few moments before sauntering off in his princely Garfield “esk” way. He is walking better, looking better and almost back to his grumpy and pampered self.
For the rest of his long and happy life, he will need the shots and for the rest of his long and happy life I will say every time I give them “See Oskie, you just take the veggie tray to school on your birthday instead of cupcakes, no problem”.
That line is compliments of Benji. It was his response to my dramatic tears and indistinguisable muttering…