Gingerbread House

Sometimes...less is more.

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American Graffiti

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Tonight was the open house for the new school which my children will be attending. It is a beautiful school. Everything I had hoped for for my children. Pristine. Clean. Unmolested. Until that is, my child got a hold of it. There was a pile of markers sitting on the ground which Donny decided was for "decorating" the outside of the school. I looked appropriately disgusted and stormed my children off. Donny and I dropped off the rest of the family then we headed to Macey's for supplies, which he had to buy. We scrubbed for a good 30 minutes, but made little progress. I took him home, got a new arsenal of scrubbies and went back, alone. After another half an hour of scrubbing and EVERYBODY that passed by had to make some stupid comment to me, I went to find the principal to confess our sins. I feel sufficiently humilated. He asked for me to show him, after which he laughed. Then said they have industrial strength graffiti cleaner that will take it off in two seconds. He sa...
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The Grapple

For years I have looked on with great anticipation of trying a succulent new fruit called the grapple.  The texture of an apple with the taste of a grape?  Yes, please!  The only reason I have not bought a package is because they are $3.99 for four, and I am incredibly cheap. Today, I decided to treat myself to these grapples.  I figured if I were to buy a pack of chips or candy or some other kind of junk, I would spend that much, so I was justified in spending a dollar per piece.  I was freaking out a little inside the truth be told. I had such high hopes for these small delicacies.  We got home, I unloaded the few things I bought, then I proceeded to cut my new treasure.  Ever so carefully did I cut my hybrid.  I didn't want to waste any of it!  After all, I had spent a whole dollar on just that one. There it was in front of me, the moment I had been waiting for for years now.  I brought the wedge up to mouth and tasted it. ...
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Thank You Cards

I am a grateful person. I do appreciate when nice things are done for me. I do however, have a "beef" with thank you cards (TYC). Generally, kind acts of service are extended to help one out when one needs help. If one needs help, why do we put that person under all the added stress to give us TYC? It makes me crazy. I owe about 65 TYC from when I was pregnant with Mallory. Most of them I wrote last February. They are all in a pile in a closet. Somewhere. If you are one of these people that feel as though you got the shaft and are without your TYC, please call me and I will dig through the pile and send yours to you. PLEASE NEVER SEND ME A TYC!!!!! I don't want one. I feel obligated to keep them, especially if you are a scrapbooker and took more time to make the card than it took me to make the money to buy your gift. Or more time than it took me to do whatever it was that made you feel compelled to give me a TYC. Just say, "thank you". That is nice. It is goo...
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