He's smart, this one.

Me - How was your day?

The Boy - I learned something, but I forgot what it was.

I was actually a paid "professional" once.

So. Or should I say "sew".

I'm not a sewer so much. I was the official seamstress for the OSU Cowboy football team once (for about two weeks), but other than a straight line, I'm not so good.

The Boy is now a Webelo Scout. This means he gets a new Scout shirt. That means he gets new patches.

(See where I am going with this?)

I had to sew on a new council patch (shoulder), two new pack numbers (under council patch) and a world crest emblem (above the left pocket). That is where my troubles lie.

I did pretty well on the council patch. Awesome on the pack numbers. But when it came to the world crest. I buggered it up.

First - I put it up too high.
Second - It is round. (See straight line comment above.)

You couldn't even see it the way the collar folded over on it. I had to use my seam ripper (I love seam rippers.) and carefully remove it. These shirts aren't cheap and I didn't want to have to replace it.

I repositioned it and used some straight pins to hold it in place. Every time I had to spin the shirt on the curve, the patch would move, but not the shirt.

Say it with me, "Frustrating."

Finally (and there may have been some Super Glue involved) I got it on. Now he is good to go.

I hope he stays in Scouts. The oldest boy got his Eagle Scout last year. It would be nice to have them both be Eagles.

We had to change packs this year. The one here kinda fell apart. The Boy was the only one in his den to earn his advancement badge. Most parents did not help their boys at all. It was sad. Now we drive up into Minnesnowda. I think we are going to like this group much better.

Some people call it a sport.

Shopping. I do it well. Most of the time, I'm just lucky.

The other day, I was jonesing for some sweaters at an online store I lurve. I put three of them in my shopping cart just for giggles.

This morning, an email from that store appeared in my inbox. It said, "Buy one, get one 50% off!" and "Buy three items, get $3.00 shipping!"

That clenched it. I only had to throw one more thing in my shopping cart. (You can't just buy three things at a BOGO sale.)

But wait, surely there must be a code somewhere online to SAVE EVEN MORE MONEY. Sure enough. I found a code for $20 off a purchase of $80 or more.

Cha-ching.

Now I'm set for winter. (Almost. I still need winter footwear.)

Good thing. High today is only getting up to 67 degrees.

Yippy-skippy!

We finally made it!

We finally made it to the county fair.

This guy was here. He's a lot cuter when he cleans up. The Commander wanted me to tell him he has seen his wife nekkid. I didn't wait in line to see him, though. I figured I would get up there and babble like a fool. So I just stood back and snapped some photos.



I did get my fried Snickers bar. Mmmmmm. I could have had another, but I'm too cheap. Of course I had to buy an RC Cola. You can take the woman out of Oklahoma...



My feets hurt.

OMG!

Patches used her eye lasers to stun Scotch!

R.I.P. Black Dog

I killed a dog tonight.

I was driving down the highway out in the middle of nowhere, doing a little over 55 MPH (Thanks Iowa! for giving me great gas mileage.) and I noticed a dog sniffing around in the ditch on my right.

I was getting ready to turn off of the highway, so I started slowing down while looking at the dog. I was saying to myself, "That dog looks like (The Commander's cousin Joe's dog) Sammy. But it doesn't have the white tipped tail."

When all of a sudden, Not Sammy made a bee-line for the other side of the road. I barely had time to slam on the brakes and no time at all to swerve. I hit him dead center. (No pun.)

He looked like an adolescent dog. Medium sized. Gangly. Sorta doing the "yup, yup, yup" gallop across the road.

I looked in my rear view mirror and didn't see him. I thought, "Great, he's stuck under the car." (Not really cold hearted. More like OH NO!)

Then I looked in my side mirror and saw him come to a floppy stop on the opposite side of the road. I wanted to stop, but I didn't want to stop. Know what I mean? I ended up not stopping. I was on my way to take The Boy to piano and didn't want to be late for the first lesson with the new teacher.

The Boy glanced over at me and said, "What was that?"

I told him I hit a dog.

He didn't say anything for a while. Then he asked me why I looked so sad. I told him that I was sad for the dog and sad for the owners if it had any.

He didn't say anything for a while, then he reached over and patted my leg. "Was he dead?"

"I think so."

"What position was he in when you hit him?"

"He ran out in front of me."

Oopsie. He didn't know I had hit a live dog, he thought I had ran over an already dead dog.

I'm still sad. I have never done that before. I have been in the car when my dad hit a dog, but I have never been the driver.

It isn't pleasant.

His first solo.

His first solo ride. It wasn't very long, but he did real well. The second ended with a fall at the end. The third ended with an almost fall and me yelling at him, "NO! NO!" As soon as he stops, he wants to hop off which is exactly what he did with his bicycle. We told him after ride #2 that he couldn't be jumping off like that. He did anyway. It wouldn't be so bad, but he doesn't put it in neutral before he hops off. The third ride, he hopped off and gunned the thing and it took off without him. I think he learned his lesson.

I'm officially an Iowa Housewife.

Sweet corn time here in Iowa. We have been getting it from roadside stands for a couple of months. You have to be careful and not buy too early. They charge and arm and a leg for the first couple of weeks. I saw some for $7.00 a dozen and passed on them. The most I have paid has been $5.00 for 13 ears (the ones below and the most delicious) down to $3.50 for a dozen (they weren't too shabby either).

Yesterday, I bought $20.00 worth and ended up with 55 ears of corn. We ate six last night and I set six aside for tonight. The rest I put up.


Here I go!



Mmmmmmm.



Token artsy shot.



Most of the worms were at the top of the silks, but this little fella had dug down deep.



Boil them up for a bit.



Quick ice bath to blanch.



Debris.



Scrape, scrape, scrape. I bought a tool to use, but it was worthless.



Ta-dah! I got nine bags of two cups each and two bags with six ears each. That should last for a month, right?



Now, who's coming to clean up the mess?

My Living Will

I, Sherry, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.

Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of lawyers or doctors interested in simply running up the bills.

If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at least one of the following:

Donuts
Chocolate
Margarita
Sex
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Chicken fried steak
Cream gravy
Mexican food
Chocolate
French fries
Chocolate
Pizza
Ice cream
Doritos
Chocolate
Hard Cider
Milk
Chocolate

It should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the 'fat lady sing,' and call it a day!

Nope

I was hoping it would say, "WTF? You shouldn't be teaching anybody anything!" or "Art"

You Should Teach Kindergarten

You are a warm, empathetic person who truly loves children. And children love you right back. You have more patience than most, and you're able to let little things slide. You are also expressive and fun. You have the perfect personality for reading aloud and leading art projects. You are creative and inspiring. You can keep learning interesting, simple, and fun.

What Grade Should You Teach?

Yep. Yep. And Yep.

You Are Cereal

Playful and lighthearted, breakfast is likely your favorite meal of the day. (In fact, you're probably the type who sneaks cereal as a midnight snack.) Your culinary skills are probably a bit lacking... and you are a sucker for junk food. Some people accuse you of eating like a kid, but you prefer to think of yourself as low maintenance.

What Kind of Breakfast Are You?