Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Yard Beaker

Beaker Nymph. Ha.Ha. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Creeps

Went to the zoo last week. In one of the displays where I was slightly unnerved by the caged snakes, I nearly put my hand on this. The kids thought it was real funny. Glad someone was amused. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Halloween and Hallowon't

Gert played along with the whole costume idea. Gladys was having none of it. Bucking Beagle. And not on your bucking life, Lady. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Public Service Announcement - They Mean It....

I don't have pictures of my big mistake and subsequent public service announcement. But I do have pictures of my dogs. The pictures have nothing to do with my very serious topic of the day, however they are cute and these shots were snapped right before the safety/common sense breach. 

What might that serious topic be? Well, you know when you watch TV cooking shows they mention that you should wear plastic gloves when chopping hot peppers?? Well that's for reals. You see. I had no idea what peppers Rob planted and since neither of us like to have out tonsils burned out didn't think he'd plant anything hotter than jalapeño. And while I was dicing up all the tomatoes that were still viable I thought I'd go ahead and harvest the tiny peppers and chop those up as well. 

Turns out the peppers were habanero. I should've remembered the important information that the size of the pepper would be a clue as well. Anyhow. I chopped those bad boys up and tossed them in a ziplock and washed my hands. That's when I first noticed the heat. My hands warmed up real nicely and tingled. Then Rob said, those are habanero not jalapeño. Since we had a Bible study at Toad Boy's house and Toad Boy loves hot I decided to take them over. And I washed my hands about three more times. In the car I touched the outside corner of my eye. Yeah. Raccoon watering followed. I entered the house, handed him the bag with the warning that they are HOT and washed my hands two more times. While eating popcorn an hour later I noticed a tingle and burn. The stupid oil was still on my hands clearly. 

This is why they recommend that you use gloves when slicing or dicing hot peppers. And they know of what they speak. That is all. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ When Morning Comes...

My dogs, and who am I kidding...me, have been suffering from the struggle of becoming conscious when rolling out into the dark, cold mornings. They lay curled into a perfect puzzle of warm doggieness and I do things like snooze my alarm, then set the 2nd alarm instead of shutting off the 1st. And taking 5 solid seconds to try to figure out what the very clear text message means. Fortunately, God created coffee. And gave dogs a keen sense of smell. And gave us all bladders. If not I get the whole hibernation thing. Great idea.

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Just So...So...You Know..

Spent last evening with the bigger grandkids while the boy went to Boy Scouts with his mama. In between reading and policing the sometimes arguing girls and keeping them out of grandpa's way while he installed a new kitchen sink, I saw a few childish art and learning projects. The third-grader is learning cursive. The four-year-old drew the family and has mastered the letters in her name plus 4, 8, and 5, so all of her scribbles include a mishmash of those conquered letters and numbers. There is nothing cuter than kid drawings and the oops of learning. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Squirrel Patrol and a DUH! Bonus

We have a few squirrels that torment Gladys and Gertrude. You know THOSE kind of squirrels. The once who know that there is a chain that lets a dog only so far, and that there is a big french door that looks out into the squirrel playground for while-the-grownups-are-at-work kinda torment. Yes, those kind of squirrels.  Its no wonder my girls are on the squirrel warpath 90% of the time. 

And this morning, bright and early I discovered something. Now this thing might have to do with the fact that I'm not fully awake most mornings when I get dressed. Should any decision before coffee count? I'm pretty sure there is a legal defense that uses lack of coffee. Right? Or I might just need to blame it on the squirrels.  Anyhoo, that said. I just now, in my 53 year of living realized that I don't have to actually follow manufacturer suggested guidelines. 

See this shirt. I love it. But a) too clingy and scoop necked to wear comfortably alone. b) long sleeved t-shirt material layered with something else equals flaming hot discomfort 48 weeks out of the year for me. Solution. Don't throw or donate the stupid top, cut the darn sleeves off and make it a layering tank. So happy. I'd take a smiling selfie but I haven't had my coffee yet.