The Witching Hour

It’s just after midnight.  It’s very quiet right now.  I can hear the snake slithering around in his habitat.  The new dog gnawing on a chewtoy.  My keys clicking as I type.  Otherwise it’s nice and peaceful right now.

Many people don’t get why I stay up way past a sensible bedtime.  Would I benefit from a full 8 hours of sleep?  Probably.  Would I get more accomplished if I got enough sleep and didn’t hit a wall and doze off at 2 pm every day? Probably.  Would I start to go stark raving mad from lack of quiet, no demands, no one touching me, no stream of constant and unending chatter, no tasks to do but what I feel like doing?  Definitely!!!  I need this time.  I thought I might have it happen during the day once The Boy started kindergarten.  I thought that while he was at school for the afternoon I would have the opportunity to get some stuff done and have a chance to drink a HOT cup of coffee and a have a sit down and get some uninterrupted stitching in.  Turns out, 2.5 hours is not long enough.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than nothing, but it simply is not enough time to do what needs to be done and spend some time doing me stuff.

So, I stay up way past midnight.  That’s when I do most of my writing.  Get most of my stitching done.  Bought some fabulous yarn with my Chistmas money.  I’ve promised the hubster that I’ll actually keep what I’m making with it.  I may even keep that promise.


It is so very me, this lovely green yarn.  The blanket is meant to go on top of my plain duvet on my bed.  I may even start to actually make the bed just to show this one off.

Well, that’s what’s on my mind tonight.  I’m about to go work on a project and I’m a bit excited for tomorrow.  Starting a new yoga program and my second workout is tomorrrow.  Still have to go out and get myself a proper mat.  Made due for the first workout but the hard floor is hell on my knees.  It’s a good, hard but not too hard, workout called DDP Yoga.  It was designed by a wrestler named Diamond Dallas Page to help himself get through the assorted injuries and pain he suffered as a result of his time in the ring.  It grew into a whole yoga program and has helped tons of people with pain control, weight loss and general fitness.  I liked the first workout.  Usually, when I try something like this, I know right away that I don’t like it.  I hate working out.  I hate aerobics and weights and cardio.  I love the pool but don’t have one so that’s an occasional treat.  This one seems like something I can do and maybe even enjoy.  One of the instructions was to take a bunch of pictures of myself.  The “Before” photos.  Gonna do that tomorrow too.  Perhaps, someday, I’ll put them up here with the after photos.

Here’s to quiet and feeling optimistic.


It’s Been a While

Good song, and true in my case as well.  Been really, really busy feeding and entertaining and cleaning up after my family.  Haven’t had hardly any time to write on my blog like I’d hoped to.  Today I just had to though.  I have just created the most delicious Buffalo Cheese Sauce ever.  Okay, I realize that it’s pretty much guaranteed that someone, somewhere has made this before and has probably posted it to the internet but I didn’t get it from that.  I improvised it so I’m proud of it.  I wanted to make this recipe Buffalo Chicken Macaroni and Cheese.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have any heavy cream so I had to improvise.  I made the pasta, used rotini, and the chicken filling then whipped up my own version of the sauce.

Buffalo Cheese Sauce

  • 1/2 cup butter
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 cups milk (I used 2%)
  • 2 cups grated cheddar
  • 1/4 cup Frank’s Red Hot Sauce
  • pepper to taste
  1. melt butter in saucepan
  2. stir in flour thoroughly.  It will clump and then get smooth. Let cook for a few minutes
  3. Stir in milk and pepper.  Let cook a few more minutes
  4. Stir in cheese.  Keep stirring until melted and blended.
  5. Stir in Frank’s Sauce. This one can be to taste as well.  With the 1/4 cup I used it was enough to give the flavour without being painfully hot.
  6. Enjoy!!

OMFG was it yummy.  Besides the recipe for the cheese sauce and the panko breadcrumb crust on top (I prefer to toss some cheese with some bread crumbs made from my homemade bread for mac and cheese crust) I followed the linked recipe.  Then, I dropped my phone into the oven trying to take a picture of the food baking.  No worries, both me and my phone survived the experience and we have this to look forward to eating.



Fuck me and my Sandwich huh?

Recently read a blog post that I found incredibly annoying and thought I might write my thoughts about it. The post can be found here…

Is Your Child’s PB&J More Important Than My Child’s Life?
Now for the record, no. My child’s PB&J is NOT more important than any child’s life. It never has been. When my son was in daycare and they had a no peanut policy I sent plain jam sandwiches every day because he wouldn’t eat meat or cheese ones. I finally found a soy substitute for peanut butter that didn’t taste like ass and made sure everything involving his lunch had the included stickers to ensure that everyone knew it was nut free. I ran home once when I pulled a complete bonehead that I thankfully caught en route when I put Nutella in his sandwich without thinking. We call it chocolate butter at our house but thankfully I remembered the hazelnuts before we got there.   I buy rice crispy treats for The Boy’s birthday because they have the nut free symbol on them instead of making him the cake he asked for because my kitchen is in no way nut free and I can’t guarantee anything coming out of it isn’t contaminated (I haven’t managed to kill any of my nut allergic friends yet but still can’t guarantee). So again, no, my and my son’s consumption of nuts isn’t more important than the risk to other children who allergic to them. That does not mean I have to be happy about it. 

Where does this woman get off sending out a general, widespread and literal fuck you to anyone who might bitch about nut free policies?  You’re a momma bear?  So what?  So am I. That doesn’t mean I go out in public and hand out a giant middle finger to everyone in the friggen planet for not caring about my child. That daycare he used to go to?  They used to do a summer outing with the kids every other week or so. They used to pack them all up and parade them all down to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away for ice cream. Then, they got a kid with a nut allergy. Unfortunately, DQ has a great big sign that says “we are NOT nut free” so the munchkin with the allergy couldn’t go. They accommodated him by leaving him at the daycare with a staff member. One on one time is expensive. Wasn’t good enough. They made it policy that none of the children could order anything with nuts. Not good enough. They couldn’t guarantee that the children wouldn’t carry back any microbial bits of nut atoms with them so what happened? All 80 kids have to go without one of the best field trips of the summer because the world is hazardous to kids with nut allergies. Fine. It’s necessary. Still don’t have to be happy about it. So to the lady who says fuck me and my PB&J,  right back atcha. You might be a momma bear and your little bear might be cursed with an allergy that can kill the poor little bugger but this momma bear has accommodated to the detriment of my own child so you can take your fuck you and shove it up your arse. 


If you aren’t familiar with the movie Anger Management starring Jack Nicholson and Adam Sandler, I highly recommend it.  The title of today’s entry is a phrase from the movie and is used to calm and relax those experiencing anger and anxiety in the movie.  I had a goooozefrabba moment yesterday.  Doing much better today.  Found a reason to laugh at/with (he didn’t know why we were laughing but whatever) my son, went for a long walk, threatened his life if he didn’t play on his own with his own toys for a while which he finally did and I got some time to just sit and veg and play with my new crochet thread stash.  He actually came over and helped me sort it.

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Mostly just playing around at this point but whipped up a bracelet for myself…

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And I’ve started on one for my sister.  She says she wants ‘camo colours’…

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She didn’t say it couldn’t be a camo coloured granny square cuff.  She’s being a good sport about it.  If she doesn’t end up liking it I’m sure it will have a good home with me or someone might decide to adopt it.

The Boy is co-operating well today.  Got him interested in his building blocks last night and he’s been keen to build stuff since.  Erected his first bridge yesterday.

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He was very proud of it.  We started a penny chore jar a couple of weeks ago and it seems to be working well.  I let him paint it.

He gets a few pennies for a day without potty accidents and varying amounts for doing whatever chores I need him to do.  Today he got a couple for helping me put away the clean dishes and deal with the dirty ones so we could make cookies.  I think the cookies were more exciting than the pennies going in the jar.

We just used the recipe on the Chipits bag also available at Original Chipits chocolate chip cookie recipe.  Ours aren’t as super perfect looking as the ones on the bag but taste like chocolate chip cookies.  I’m puzzled as to how The Boy manages to get chocolate all over his face by eating itty bitty individual chocolate chips.  Meh, he’s a boy.  His natural state is dirty.

Wow! Life is…huge!

So, yeah.  Last time I posted I was bribing myself to quit smoking buy promising myself a new and very swanky crochet hook.  I bought the hook anyway, and absolutely adore it, but did manage to quit smoking as well.  This weekend it will have been five months (minus a setback or two but always right back on the wagon).

What else has happened since then?  Well, my dad got very sick.  I won’t go into details because that’s his story to tell but needless to say it was very touch and go for a while.  We almost lost him.  I dreaded having to tell The Boy that his Papa was gone.  As far as said Boy goes he is one smart cookie and, from overhearing assorted family update calls and such, figured out that something was going on and that it was very, very bad.  For now, we have dad back.  We have our Papa and we are doing everything we can to make sure we keep him.

Another major life event, I up and quit my job.  Things have been pretty shitty there since I got pregnant.  My co-worker and, at that time, friend freaked out at the thought of being left there while I took maternity leave and let herself be poached by the competition.  I’ve had a target on my back ever since through association.  I came back from my maternity leave to find I wasn’t going back to my original position and that the sweet, enthusiastic young guy they’d hired before I’d left had turned into a butt-kissing, deluded, uncaring money grubbing waste of air.  They tried to pay me $4/hour less than I’d left from and they pretty much abandoned me to scrape and scuttle my way through doing an impossible job with no access to resources or help.  Long story short, new guy had buttkissed his way into trying to oust all of the old employees (I wasn’t the first to walk out) and through missed time due to dad’s illness, doing too good a job at my job and having to spend too much time to maintain it to be able to build it fast enough and lies from butt-kisser that he was sooper magical and can do everything faster and better while still magically being able to do everybody else’s job, last Wednesday happened.  They came to me and told me they were going to drop my pay $2/hour while also demanding twice the work.  That was it.  I was done.  I asked and then begged them to lay me off so I could get retrained in a trade and they refused so I talked to The Hubster and got his support.  I walked in and got to say the dream words of anyone who’s worked a shitty job…”I quit.”  I packed up my stuff and left.  I freaked out for the rest of the day.

How was I going to keep my house and feed my son?  What was I going to do?  A week later I am still not sure but what I do know is that Thursday morning, and every morning since, I have not had a headache when I woke up.  I haven’t vomited around getting ready to go to that place.  I have spent time with my husband and son.  Got to talk to my sister for an hour on the phone a couple times.  So, still not sure what the future holds besides I am happier worrying about money than I was prostituting myself in a job I couldn’t stand.  I’m sincerely hoping that a couple of my former co-workers get the opportunity to experience this feeling too.  It’s loverly.

For the moment, I have homemade bread in my breadbox and am making turkey soup from scratch.  I’m listening to an awesome podcast The Jeff Show With Jason Bryant and I’m working on a gift for my sister’s incoming bump.  I am happy right now and that’s awesome.

F**k Cancer

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On Monday, July 20th, 2015, we noticed our dog Ace had swollen lymph nodes under his jaw.  Got an appointment at the vet on Wednesday the 22nd.  We’d read up on it on the internet which is horrible to do but we’re not the usual kind of people who take whatever the net says as fact and freak out about it.  We treat it sort of like reading the short synopsis on the back of a book.  Gives one an idea of what to expect.  So, could be an infection, allergies (which he’s been prone to pretty much all his life and was what we were hoping for) or cancer.  That last was why we got him in right away.

The Dr. wasn’t very hopeful.  Turns out all of his lymph nodes were swollen.  There was much poking and prodding and samples taken with needles to the point the poor little dude was all tender and swollen.  Vet said it was almost certainly cancer but they’d need biopsy results to be sure.  That night we talked