Jemima: Grrrrrrr.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A little ball of orange fluff
Mama Jo: So I was visiting teaching… It is announced that they have a new kitten. In truth, I was wondering WHY anyone with five (or are there more…they move so fast I’m not sure) very small children would subject an animal to such torment.
When I am introduced to aforementioned kitten, she is a wee little handful of orange fluff. I mention to my visit-teachee that Mr. Incredible used to have an orange cat; that he LOVES orange cats. Visit-teachee says they just took her off a friend’s hands and maybe they would give her to us. I mention to Mr. Incredible that Visit-teachee has an orange kitten that most surely would not live through the weekend. He bit. She’s ours.
Jemima: Grrrrrrr.
Jemima: Grrrrrrr.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Flat Ellie
Mama Jo: You’ve heard of Flat Stanley? This is Flat Ellie. She went with us to Ireland. The poor thing had a complex by the time we got back. We could never remember her name: Fast Eddie, Slick Willie, Fat Albert…
When we went to kiss the Blarney Stone, we handed Flat Ellie to the assistant, a little old man (who, we decided, if we were to take a fall and go head first to our untimely death, there was nothing he could do to stop us—he was going too). Anyway, the assistant looks at Ellie and says, “Ooooooh Stanley, you’re not looking too well these days.” We assured him that he was mistaken: it was Flat Ellie, not Stanley.
I don’t think Ellie has recovered yet.
When we went to kiss the Blarney Stone, we handed Flat Ellie to the assistant, a little old man (who, we decided, if we were to take a fall and go head first to our untimely death, there was nothing he could do to stop us—he was going too). Anyway, the assistant looks at Ellie and says, “Ooooooh Stanley, you’re not looking too well these days.” We assured him that he was mistaken: it was Flat Ellie, not Stanley.
I don’t think Ellie has recovered yet.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Who’s the most spoiled?
Mama Jo: Most definitely me!
Significant Birthday + Trip to Ireland = Most spoiled.
Oh yea!
Significant Birthday + Trip to Ireland = Most spoiled.
Oh yea!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Loathing
Jemima: This is Spike.
He loathes me. And Mama Jo too! In fact, he hasn't sat on her lap or paid any attention to her since the day she brought me home. Actually, that is totally OK by me.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
St. Paddy's Day
Mama Jo: Believe it or not, my favorite holiday is St. Patrick’s Day.
Christmas? I never have my act together. But, by March 17th I usually am able to send out Christmas, um, St. Patrick’s Day Cards…at least every other year!
I love to make a St. Patrick’s Day feast with Corned Beef and Cabbage, Irish Soda Bread, Potato Soup (yum), clover leaf rolls, green jello (and just about anything else green I can think of). I invite everyone I know. Actually, I invite anyone who is willing to come and enjoy GREAT food. (The folks who think we eat Klingon food can just stay home!)
Anyway, a few years ago we weren’t having a McCelebration for our favorite holiday (waaaa). BUT I found what appeared to be a fantastic recipe that we would enjoy. It was a Corned Beef and Pickled Cabbage concoction that looked oh-so-promising…enough that I tripled the recipe. Little did I know that it took the enamel right off of your teeth and was truly awful. (little sob) Mr. Incredible looked down at the super sized bowl or St. Paddy’s McAwfulness, looked at all the little Incredibles with their plates full of same St. Paddy’s McAwfulness, and suggested that they start eating because he wasn’t going to eat McAwfulness all week as leftovers in his McLunch. As tears welled up in the eyes of all the little Incredibles, Mama Jo made the executive decision that this new recipe had failed on every level and was going down the McGarbage disposal. (Except for the heaping helping we gave to our neighbor who happened to stop by during the McFeast and was sure her husband would like it. We found out later he didn’t and it went down their McGarbage disposal.)
Usually things we don’t like we just give to the dog and, depending on her enthusiasm for the McDisaster, let her judge just how bad it was. (It was so bad even the dog wouldn’t eat it!) We decided that it was soooo bad that we couldn’t subject the dog to it.
Jemima: Whew! That was a close one.
Christmas? I never have my act together. But, by March 17th I usually am able to send out Christmas, um, St. Patrick’s Day Cards…at least every other year!
I love to make a St. Patrick’s Day feast with Corned Beef and Cabbage, Irish Soda Bread, Potato Soup (yum), clover leaf rolls, green jello (and just about anything else green I can think of). I invite everyone I know. Actually, I invite anyone who is willing to come and enjoy GREAT food. (The folks who think we eat Klingon food can just stay home!)
Anyway, a few years ago we weren’t having a McCelebration for our favorite holiday (waaaa). BUT I found what appeared to be a fantastic recipe that we would enjoy. It was a Corned Beef and Pickled Cabbage concoction that looked oh-so-promising…enough that I tripled the recipe. Little did I know that it took the enamel right off of your teeth and was truly awful. (little sob) Mr. Incredible looked down at the super sized bowl or St. Paddy’s McAwfulness, looked at all the little Incredibles with their plates full of same St. Paddy’s McAwfulness, and suggested that they start eating because he wasn’t going to eat McAwfulness all week as leftovers in his McLunch. As tears welled up in the eyes of all the little Incredibles, Mama Jo made the executive decision that this new recipe had failed on every level and was going down the McGarbage disposal. (Except for the heaping helping we gave to our neighbor who happened to stop by during the McFeast and was sure her husband would like it. We found out later he didn’t and it went down their McGarbage disposal.)
Usually things we don’t like we just give to the dog and, depending on her enthusiasm for the McDisaster, let her judge just how bad it was. (It was so bad even the dog wouldn’t eat it!) We decided that it was soooo bad that we couldn’t subject the dog to it.
Jemima: Whew! That was a close one.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Ice is nice...
Mama Jo: Jemima LOVES ice. I don’t know why. I’ve never heard of a dog who can hear the crack of the ice tray, from ANYWHERE in the house, and come running. She patiently waits for me (or any one of the Incredibles) to toss her an ice cube. She picks it up, goes and lays down on the carpet, and then completely enjoys her frosty cold treat. Crunch, crunch, crunch. It’s not like it has any flavor! I don’t understand it, but I always give her an ice cube treat. Or two.
Jemima: Hey, I don’t question why you like CHOCOLATE. Don’t knock the ice.
Jemima: Hey, I don’t question why you like CHOCOLATE. Don’t knock the ice.
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