Oh man

So much for keeping up the blog.  I’m not even going to apologize, I know I’ve been bad.

My brother-in-law lost his arms to an auger and was airlifted to a hospital in Denver two weeks ago.  Since then life has been non-stop.  We’ve been taking care of him and my sister.  They were finally able to go home this Wednesday, but will be back on Tuesday for another 3 days.  My heart and love goes out to them.  I don’t know how I would have handled something like that happenedto my husband.

Speaking of my husband, he’s white water rafting today.  He won a ticket from a radio station.  Yes, you read that right, one ticket.  ::grumble grumble::  I probably wouldn’t have gotten time off to go, but it would have been nice to have the option of going.  Oh well.

This Sunday we’re going to a Rockies game!  Yay!  I love watching baseball from the stadium, and not so much on television.  I think it’s the people watching that does it for me.  So many weird people to scope out and comment on.  This game will be a first in that we’ll be sitting in (on?) the lower deck.  I’ve always had to watch the game from the nosebleed section.

Final update, I’ve started a photo-blog (here).  Why another blog that you won’t keep updated, you ask?  Well… I’m trying to get better about that.  I’ve been itching to start playing around with my photography, and where better to show it off than in yet another blog?  Stay tuned for updates…

4 dozen blueberry muffins

Yes, you read that right.  4. dozen. blueberry. muffins.

I blame my husband.  I had bought blueberries with the intention of making a blueberry pie tonight.  Instead, he wanted muffins.  “Ok,” I thought, “I’ve never made from scratch muffins before, I’ll give it a whirl.”  Then I had the bright idea of multiplying the recipe to fit the amount of blueberries.  Wasting food is a sin, right?

ugh. 4.dozen.blueberry.muffins.  At least they taste good.

Muffin dough is so much different than any other dough I’ve encountered before.  These muffins also aren’t quite as sweet as the mass produced box mixes, or even the muffins you can buy at the store.

Blueberry Muffins

Bake at 425F for 20 minutes
Makes 12 muffins

2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg, well beaten
1 cup milk
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter, melted and cooled
1 cup fresh or slightly thawed dry-pack frozen blueberries
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind

1. Preheat oven to 425F.  Sift flour, the 1/3 cup sugar, baking powder and salt into a large bowl.  Mix egg, milk,and melted, cooled butter in a small blow; add all at once to flour mixture; stir lightly with a fork just until liquid is absorbed.  (Batter will be lumpy.)  Fold in blueberries.

2. Spoon into greased medium-sized muffin-pan cups, filling each 2/3 full.  Sprinkle with a mixture of the 1 tablespoon sugar and lemon rind.

3. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden; remove from cups.

From: The Family Circle Encyclopedia of Cooking (1990)

Sprucing up the office

(Sorry for the absence.  There’s been a lot of personal things to sort through that I haven’t felt like blogging.  Now on the regularly scheduled program…)

What do you do when  you have a large, vertical, empty space behind you at work?  If you’re like me you’ll sit for 1.5 years staring at the blank space, trying to think of something… ANYTHING… to fill that void.  Then inspiration will slap you across the face.

Magnetic photo ropes. GENIUS!  The perfect solution for a large, vertical space.  The hardest part about the whole experience was picking out which photos to print and hang (and having my coworker help me hang things level [it's still off]).

Viola*!

*As always, work pictures are taken with my crappy camera phone.

Popcorn ceiling vs. Humans

Repost from my now defunct home blog.  Original post date May 2007:

Oh, the popcorn ceiling. Popular treatment in the 1950s-70s. Builders liked it because they could spray it on and not worry about finishing the ceilings, homeowners… well, I sort of wonder if anyone ever really liked popcorn ceilings. After a while they become dirty and dingy since you can’t wash them. Some people try to solve the problem by painting over the popcorn, in turn creating another interesting mess since wet popcorn tends to fall off. We decided enough was enough and embarked on a journey to de-popcorn our basement ceilings.

Step one: Buy a pressurised sprayer at Home Depot/Walmart/any gardening center. Usually they are used to spray fertilizer and/or weed killer, but we used it to spray plain, old water. Fill sprayer with warm water and spray onto the ceiling. Wait five minutes. DO NOT OVERSPRAY!  You can damage the drywall behind the popcorn, and peel off the backing paper.

Step two: Take a scraper, anything flat surfaced that you can scrape smoothly across the ceiling (we used 6″ wide spackle knives [at least I think that's what they are called]), and run it along the ceiling. The popcorn, at this point the consistency of spit balls, will fall right off. I should say at this point that it is a good idea to lay down plastic all over your floor. This is so messy that the spit balls fly everywhere when you scrape.

Step 3: Take ridiculous pictures of your H wielding the sprayer and the impressive popcorn stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Please people, do not paint over your popcorn. We lucked out. I’ve heard horror stories of painted popcorn being hellish to remove, but we didn’t have any problems other than it wanted to peel off in sheets.

Step four: (At this point I should mention that it would probably be wise to texture your ceilings after the popcorn has been removed. We chose not to do this step since we didn’t have the time/money/inclination to do so.) What you are left with is unfinished dry wall. There is a reason the builders sprayed the popcorn, they didn’t have to finish/fix dents in the drywall as they would have if it had been a wall. Take some spackle and fill in the various dents, holes, weird pockmarks in the ceiling. Then take a broom and sweep the now dry ceiling (the ceiling will be wet immediately after scraping, be careful at this stage as you can tear the drywall paper). There are going to be imperfections, try to fix them as best you can.

Step five: Say good-bye to your sanity. Unpainted drywall needs to be primed. It soaks up the primer paint like a dying man in the dessert sucks up water. We probably should have used two coats of primer, but left it at one. Its about this time that despair creeps upon you. Your arms ache, your neck hurts, and you realize that there are two more coats of paint left. Suck it up, the results are worth it, and really, you can’t quit now. Two coats of ceiling paint and you’re DONE!

Smooth as a baby’s bottom. (Don’t worry, that fan is being replaced.) We de-popcorned our whole basement (2 bedrooms, 1 hallway, 1 long family room). A whole trashcan was filled with the used spitball substance that was once “popcorn.” All the hard work is worth it, I promise, if you decide to do smooth out your ceiling.

A different type of breast cancer

Also, as always make sure to feel your boobies, love your boobies, note any changes in your boobies.

I can haz cute purse?

I made a cute purse on Sunday.  It’s smaller than I thought it would be, and my choice of fabrics was difficult to work with (I broke 4 needles).  However, I’m pleased with the results.

If you would like instructions on how to make the purse, they can be found here.

(I just noticed I didn’t fluff out one corner for the picture.  Its not lopsided, I swear!)

Edit: I was asked what the finished dimensions of the purse were since I said it seemed small.  Finished dimensions: 8.5 inches opening, 11 inches at the widest point at the bottom, and 6 inches tall.

How to freak out the neighbors

Step 1: Turn on the sprinkler.

Step 2: Take your cockatoo out front and let him play in the sprinklers.

You may be wondering about his wings.  When he came to us he had chewed off most of his flight feathers (the long ones with yellow on his wings).  It takes a while to grow the feathers back.  Also, in times of stress and boredom he goes back to chewing his wings.  We try to keep toys in his cage rotated, and give him plenty of things to chew.  However we’re not always successful in keeping him occupied.

Welcome to the madhouse!

Ding-dong!

The house erupts with screeches, barks, and whatever you want to call the sound Megatron makes when he’s excited.

I can barely hear what the guy is saying on the other side of the door because Butters and boss dog are right beside me barking their fool heads off.

The guy’s eyes open wide, “Does he bite?” He points at boss dog.

“Uh, no?”  Really, I don’t know if she will or not.  She’s growling low in her throat.  So far she hasn’t reacted to anyone this way.  I keep the door closed and talk through the screen.

Fred, meanwhile, is going off like a siren.  “WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH!”

“What the hell is that?” The guy’s head is cocked to the side and his eyes are even wider.

“It’s a cockatoo.”  Pause as the blank look stays on the guy’s face.  “It’s a large bird.”

“Oh.”  Then he settles into his spiel.  However Fred increases his intensity and gets even louder with no pauses between his blats.  Megatron decides to do his demonic dog bark again.

Through the cacophony I loudly tell the guy, “Look we’re not interested.”

A relieved look washes over his face and he turns around and walks quickly away.

Maybe I should put a sign on our door, “Welcome to the mad house.”

How I know I wasn’t meant to run

I went for a run with boss dog* today.  I’m trying once again to do the Couch to 5k plan.  Boss dog lives with a runner.  She runs 5 miles in a single go.  Much faster than I can run, it seems.  When I broke into my stride boss dog took off at a pretty good clip.  My arm was just about pulled from the socket.  After a bit of adjustment she figured out my stride.

My stride, it seems varies from walking to slightly faster than walking.  Boss dog never changed her pace throughout the “run.”  Either she was way out in front of me pulling me along, or right beside me.  It’s sad when a 12 year old athritic dog can outrun you.

My foot also hurts like a mo-fo again.  I love my new shoes, but apparently they only help with my walking.  I’ll do my stretches tonight and tomorrow morning.  I hope I can work it out.  (I have plantar fascietous in my right foot.)

*Boss dog is my boss’ dog that I’m watching for a week while my boss is off frolicking in Cancun.

Possessed

Last night we went to a Slipknot* concert.  I had fun, rocked out with my cock out, and injured muscles that haven’t been jarred that hard in a long time.  I thought my husband had enjoyed it as well until he said, “I didn’t like that they had ‘Satan’s Star’ as their backdrop.  You looked possessed.”

::blink blink::

Huh.  “You mean the Pentagram?”  (For the record, most symbols do not bother me.  They only shapes until you assign a meaning to them.  In the pagan belief a pentagram is not sinister.)

“Yes, you were just very intense.”

Up until this point I didn’t realize there was a crucial difference between the way I listen to music, and he listens to music.  I thought he like the hard core driving beat music like I did.  Apparently not.  I let loose, and all my anger/frustration/disappointment poured out in listening and reacting to the music.   I’m more primal when I interact with music.  He’s cerebral.

Maybe I am possessed.

*Slipknot has been ruined by Corey Taylor.  Ever since he rejoined the rest of the band from his Stone Sour foray things have been steadily slipping.  Now their music is edging into the main-stream.  I have to think that I’m done with them.  There will always be a special dark place in my heart for them, but I can’t deal with their new brand of crap music.