pretty bread

Today was the perfect day to bake bread and eat venison steaks roasted with carrots and potatoes. Not only did the oven warm us up, the house filled with the warm yeasty smell of lovely bread. And it was the best batch I've made in a loooooooooooooong time. It's so pretty, I wanted to take pictures but then I remembered that you cannot taste it. We don't have that technology yet. Or maybe we do, but I'm a techno~tard.

So scratch the screen and sniff this {bread}.

sherry for the cook

I was just thinking about making supper tonight. I don't have great confidence in my abilities to cook meals that other people will eat. I'm a stellar baker, have been since I was seven or so. However, I like weird shit {see last entry} which means that when I cook, I make what I think would be tasty to me. Which means that most other folks are left with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Not eating what I cook doesn't hurt my feelings. Baking is a different story...

So My Jerry does most of the cooking. The lion's share, which is all of it. He does treat me like I'm a princess. Stop puking!!

So I made a joke about my cooking tonight in IM. Cuz when I cook, I tend to act as tho I have a cooking show and an audience skeptically curiously attuned like they are watching a one~woman train wreck. And somewhere in the process I am going to attempt a very bad Julia Child impression and swig some sherry for the cook.

Actually, it's not sherry, it's just that's what I always say, cuz I love that about her. I've actually only had sherry once. And it was a huge, Huge, HUGE disappointment {sigh}. Some how I'd gotten this impression that sherry would be like a thick syrupy, creamy, cherry dessert wine that I would just love, Love, LOVE. And no. It wasn't like that at all.

Years back, like fifteen to twenty, my college roommate's family hosted an oysters dinner one night and her father always drinks milk with his meal. Now, her mother pointed out they had no milk and asked what he wanted instead. He asked for iced tea {we were in PA, if it were here in the South, it would have been swe'tea} and that's what she poured him.

At some point during the meal, he'd taken a long draught of his drink, thinking it was milk {forgetting he'd asked for tea} and ended up spewing the entire table. The tea was fine. It's just that his mind and mouth were prepared for thick creamy milk and got something else instead.

That's sort of what my experience with sherry was like. I was at an arts and crafts festival on Cedar Key and dodged into a grocery store and saw a bottle of sherry and bought it thinking, oh at last! And for all I know it could have been for cooking, and cheap ass~shit for all that, but it most certainly was not thick, creamy, nor cherry~like in anyway.

sigh.

But I still love the line "...and a lil sherry for the cook" crowed in a somewhat clogged voice.

chocolate, coffee, and tea, wtf?!?

Lately, well ok, for close to an entire month...i've been feeling drained, tired, and downright lazy. i get these bursts of energy, almost frantic, and then i collapse back into being a lazy slut, having a hot and heavy affair with my bed. so i'm abnormally proud of the things i actually do, like proofreading my friend's dissertation proposal.

The gist of her proposal is focused on the effect of maternal caffeine consumption on fetus limb deformities. She is considering the most common forms of caffeine like that found in soda, coffee, tea, and chocolate. Even the less recognized form of caffeine is considered: that found in medications, both prescribtion and over the counter.

So I got to thinking, the other day, when I was mixing up a wackodoo drink cuz that's what I do, mix up and drink wackodoo drinks...so I got to thinking, hmmm, I like coffee and chocolate {mocha} and I like chocolate and tea {stash makes a fantastic chocolate hazlenut tea that will make your mouth oh so happy and your brain even happier, especially if you use some cream, sigh....slllllllllluT} but what about chocolate, coffee, and tea? And cuz I love weird~shit, I just knew that I would love that combination too.

And I do. My Jerry mixes up an instant decaf every morning for himself to drink while he eats his grits with hot pepper sauce and ground black pepper. So I tossed some of that into the can of instant hot chocolate mix I have, added some powdered creamer, and shook that can up but good.

The next time I had a hot pot of tea, I added the choco~coffee~creamer mix to the mug and then poured in the hot tea and mixed it good and drank it off and then made some more. Then I had the odd thought that I don't think I could go the soda route right off. I'll have to work up to it, cuz even my weird cheese~kiss loving ass has doubts about carbonated ChocCofTea.

Try it, ya might like it!

Harley

Yesterday morning, I let the dogs out. Then in a very short while, Pearl started her truncated tri~yip and so I let her back in. At that time, I saw Shaddow running around but didn't see Harley. I didn't worry about it. Then. Cuz the weather was fine and he had some exploring to do, I thought. So I shut the door.

A few hours later, I called for Shaddow and Harley again. Shaddow was lying in the sun out on the concrete apron by the drive. She heaved a sigh and stretched and so I left her continue her sun~bathing.

But I didn't see Harley. Which was odd, cuz he usually doesn't stay out for hours on end like that without at least jumping against the storm door once in awhile. But I didn't worry. Then.

When Jerry got home, I told him that Harley wasn't around. Usually when the dogs hear Jerry's whump~whump~whump of his bike pulling into the drive, they get all excited and go with me to meet him. Harley didn't meet us out there.

Jerry looked all over the place. We can't find him. He just turned seven last week. He's a whippet~chihuahua blend, about twelve and a half pounds. He's got very thin hair, and perky bat~ears. That's him last April with Pearl, they curl up and lick each others ears and mouth each other and such often.

Harley's Jerry's buddy. When Jerry stretches out in the recliner, Harley stretches out with him. Pearl and I miss him, but Jerry is really at a loss. So if anyone sees him, please let me know, k?

bribing the tooth~fairy

Preface: This is a long drawn out entry, cuz I wrote it that way. Sometimes stating the obvious solidifies thoughts. I write to think, I'm self~indulgent that way.

~~~~~

When I was thirteen, I had a horrendous sinus infection. I actually had many sinus infections as a child and into early adulthood. I've had some hellacious ones since, but not nearly as frequent; so that makes me happy.

But the Horrendous Sinus Infection I had at age thirteen is noteworthy for this telling. Why? What could a sinus infection possibly have to do with tooth~fairies? Well, as I am sure almost anyone who's experienced sinus difficulties can attest, my face hurt. My entire face hurt. Especially on the right side, where my lower right sinus cavity was placing quite a bit of pressure unto my upper right jaw, especially in the front.

I know this now.

But at the time, I trusted the Dentist from Hell {pictured over there <------} who assured me that I was in dire need of a root canal because my tooth had abscessed. The tooth is question is a very little one, just to the side of my larger front teeth, which those in the dental professions call "#7". Its twin, on the other side of my two front teeth, is very little, as in I've~seen~corn~kernels~bigger~than~this~tooth little.

In this case, size truly does matter. Why? Well cuz when Dr. Hell got done drilling and posting, I had almost no tooth left. Just a large white plastic core of a post with the thinnest tooth~shell ever.

And because Dr Hell had actually sliced open my gum, to the jaw bone and up to my nose, and then REMOVED part of my soft tissues, my gum~line never quite came down from the extreme recession it was forced into. I had a beautiful smile, with one slightly grey spot with a rather large white area above it. The grey was the enamel from my tooth that had been killed, and the large white area was the plastic post. It's telling that the post area was twice the size of the tooth.

sigh.

I had a cavity at age seventeen and another filling at age twenty~one. I'm not sure if either was legitimately needed, but I do know that the root~canal was not necessary as a different doctor actually had to scrape my sinus cavity clean of abscessed infection and that pocket was what was resting on my jaw, pushing down onto the root of my tooth, which was in good condition. My doc was stumped about the whole root~canal deal.

Dr Hell? Arrested later for dealing outta his scuzzy office. Henceforth, he became known as Dr Dealer Dentist in most newspapers throughout that area of Pennsylvania. Oh yeah. And ya wonder why I have so lil faith in certain professions.

Fast forward to age thirty and to Alabama, when and where I have DENTAL INSURANCE for the first time evah!! This is when I met the Mickey Mouse of Dentistry, Dr Duhd. He wanted to pull all my perfectly good top teeth and give me a top plate of false teeth because, he said, they would look so much better.

I wasn't thinking.

Fortunately, I did not go that route. But I did ask him to put a cap on the above mentioned tooth/post {#7}. He reluctantly agreed.

Yea, me, right? Wrong. sigh.

He ground away the rest of what lil of the lil tooth remained. And then capped the actual plastic post which had replaced of the core of my tooth for about seventeen years. So not its job. This is not the purpose of plastic posts of this nature. Do ya see what I'm saying?

I can only assume that he was still stuck on the teeth~all~the~same~size train of thought, because the cap he put on was as big as my two front teeth. Years later I was to learn that as a result of him cramming a chicklet sized tooth in that space, the line of teeth on the right side of my jaw buckled from the constant pressure.

sigh.

Then, eight years and one state later, I was sitting in my place on the farm here in Mississippi, talking to myself and my capped post *snap*ped off at the gumline. The reason I was talking with myself was because up to that point, I was having an intellegent conversation.

The capped post snapped off at the gumline, as I said, and there was no pain and no blood. Just lots of shock and then panic set in. Cuz dude, this is right in the front of my mouth and I had no dental insurance. Sigh.

So the next day, I visited a local sympathetic dentist who agreed that all my other 31 {all four of my wisdom teeth came in at the same time, when I was seventeen} teeth were in perfect condition and it would be stupid for me to have the two teeth on either side of the gap ground down so that a bridge could be fit into that space.

So he fit me for a partial, which in this case was a full upper plate that reached into the soft palate, and only had one tooth. The good news is this guy worked with me and explained stuff to me and respected me. The bad news is that I gagged when his assistant was casting the mold and when she removed the shelf she jiggled and so my plate never fit right. I know because a month later, I was talking with my then fiance {now, husband} and the plate started to fall out of my mouth, but didn't because the tooth snapped off the plate.

sigh

So I went back to his office to see if he could fix it, it being in only two pieces. His entire office was at a dental conference but the intern who was there to pick up the mail and water the plants recommended that I go to another office to have the plate repaired. She felt that waiting a week with a gap in the front of my mouth might be too long. I agreed, thanked her, and found another dentist in town who did in~office repairs instead of sending it out like most other places.

That dentist is in the process of retiring and the dentist taking over his practice and I met this month. For the last year, I had worn the ill fitting plate cuz I didn't really have too many other options at that point. Then just before Christmas, my plate shattered.

sigh

I went thru the Holidays and a visit with my folks with a large gap off center of my mouth. So just tight~lipped smiles. My husband's daughter's mother~in~law reassured me that my parents loved me the first time I was toothless. And she was right {and a very cool lady to boot!}. Boy did we get lots of mileage outta the whole situation.

sigh

SO earlier this month, I went to see my current dentist and explained the situation to him and to his wonderfully supportive staff {hi, guys!}. His dental hygienist/assistant was impressed with the condition of my teeth, my gums, tongue, cheeks, and sense of humor as well as my incredible sense of humble modesty {wink}. So we came up with a plan and made the first steps in that direction and man, do I feel lots better.

This next week, I'm going to see a periodontist {a Master of Dental Surgery~~that's said in a very serious, deep toned voice} to get started with whole implant procedure. A screw type post of surgical steel or titanium is placed into the jaw, this is the initial implant. Then my bone must heal and that takes three to four months. Then an abutment {a small piece that screws into the post at the gum line} is capped so that I can then smile pretty, bite and chew properly, and not feel so self~conscious. Once that work is done, the actual action of my biting, chewing, talking, etc, will help the bone to build and will keep the jaw from deteriorating form lack of use in that area.

Yea!!! So, perhaps this will have a happy ending. And I like happy endings. Especially when it involves fairies!! {wink}

By the way: every single visit I have ever made to a dentist has been listed here. So I've actually been pretty fortunate in that thirty one of my teeth are in perfect condition, even tho the cleaning I had a few weeks ago was the first one I'd had in a dentist's office in ten years.

brazen raisin

Well, last night I got to thinking about my hair and decided to go with a different color even tho I just colored it the other day. The brassiness wasn't fading and if anything, it was getting brighter and brighter and brighter still.

So I'd talked with my Jerry and we decided that perhaps I'd look better with a reddish hue instead of being so brightly blonde that the strawberry looked more peachy.

This morning after he made me incredible pancakes {cuz he treats me like I'm a princess} and before his youngest grandson came over, we drove to town to peruse hair~colors.


And this is what he picked and it looks pretty stunning.

In a good way.

I like it and think I'll keep it this way. Tho I will need to dye it again, soon, cuz they only had one kit and it wasn't enough to cover and saturate all my hair. So I'll keep my eye open for multiple boxes in the desired color.


Which is a radiant burgundy, or a brazen raisin.

water in the pipes!

Well, my Jerry took the day off work so that he could assess the plumbing situation and, if possible, fix it. He did! When I got home from my appointment this morning, there was running water in all the right places and none in the wrong. Well, with the exception of our washer~drain. There is water frozen in the pipes under the ground so doing our laundry has not been an option for the past week. Which is ok, cuz we have clothes and don't need to launder as much as we do. We just don't like to let things pile up, neither laundry nor dishes. Tho we all know, I'll let dustbunnies, furrballs, and other unmentionables gather along the edges of my floors and accumulate under the furniture. I hate that scuz, but even more so, I hate cleaning floors. I'll do all kinds of other grody stuff, but floors...shudder...I have to steel myself and make myself actually pick up a broom and sweep the damn floors. Yet when I do scrub them, I get down on my hands and knees and use a toothbrush to get into all the details and use tons of fresh water. I should probably wax them afterwards cuz that would make keeping them clean easier. Anyway, back to where we started...water!

Yea, Jerry, you the man!

imma fruit

Well, my Jerry and I decided that my hair's color is more of a bright peach. Jerry says sorta more like a bronze peach.

How did we arrive at this?

Why, with a box of Crayolas, of course!

Just peachy. Which makes sense, given that I used a light blonde and a strawberry blonde. Peaches usually have shades of yellows, golds, reds, and oranges. MMMmmmm, juicy, delicious.

water, water everywhere and not a drop to spare

This picture doesn't do justice to the...brightness of my hair.

Yeah, so this morning I got up and thought, oh hey, it's a tad warmer so maybe I'll go on and dye my hair today. When I was younger and had longer hair, I would use two boxes blonde and one strawberry blonde and my hair would be a pretty honey sort of shade. So this time, I thought that since my hair is shorter, but still thick, I'd use only one box blonde and one box strawberry blonde. So after I scrubbed out the microwave {that's important to note, why? because that's how I know that we had water, with normal good pressure}. Perhaps you see where this is going.

So this afternoon, I mix up the dye, put it on my hair, sculpt my hair into a sort of weird swirly style atop my head, and carefully sit down to wait. Now, I don't usually wear my glasses while dying my hair because the frames are metal and that's not usually a good combination. And I am rather blind without my specs. I can see shapes and all, usually shades, but not details. In other words, I can see someone but not their smile/frown/crossed~eyes unless I am right up on them. So watching TV was not an option, but since I don't usually do that during the day, that was fine. Til I figured out that reading was not a good idea either. So I found some stand~up routines on the comedy channel, but turns out most of those are visual too...

So at the appointed time, I rush into the bathroom, so I can jump in the shower. And there is no water pressure. So, I come out to the kitchen, and uhm, nope. So then I think, dude, I hope we don't have a broken pipe, cuz that would so suck on a whole buncha levels.

SO I call Jerry at work and ask if the water company is having problems cuz that'd be the better of the two options {really didn't want there to be a busted pipe somewhere here at the house}. So he calls around and no one is answering the phones at the water company. So he calls me back and says that he just doesn't know what's what.

I tell him, "don't worry honey. The worst that can happen has already happened" and he sighs, "yeah, especially if it's a burst pipe." I snickered and admitted that I was being selfish and that what I meant was that if my hair was turning green or orange or pink, that it would have done so already and that hair grows,so not to worry overly much. He chuckled and I told him that I can't drive anywhere without my glasses and I'd just see him when he got home from work.

So I kept checking the pressure. And the time. And finally when he got home, we both grabbed some clean clothes and went elsewhere to shower and I rinsed the dye out of my hair after it having been in there for {wait for it} three hours.

I was surprised to see that my hair was not horrendous. It's just very...bright. Think the lightest strawberry blonde that you've ever seen and then make it even more blonde and then make it even more...bright. The shocking thing is that I like it this way. The pic doesn't do it justice.

So we thought while we were out, we'd get replacement hose for the washing machine because the old hose has far outlived its life and we have a leak in the laundry room. When we got home, I got out of the car, and heard this rushing sound. Not a soft lil trickle. Not a musical gurgle. This was full on open gushing rush of waterfalls pouring and pounding. And so now Jerry is taking tomorrow off to try to find the water leak, the outside hose pipe is busted for sure, and we now have no running water in the house as he turned it off at the road.

sigh.

We can't let the water drip from any of the indoor faucets tonight and it's supposed to freeze and so we are hoping against all reason that there won't be any worse messes and more broken pipes due to tonight's necessity of cutting the water off. Damned if ya do. Damned if ya don't.

imma claxton fruitcake

ok, i know we've all heard the thousand or so jokes about regifting fruitcake, about how fruitcake lasts forever, about how horrible it is, about how you could use it as a brick for propping your door open in the summer, etc. but here's the thing...i love Love LOVE claxton fruitcake. {that was a hint to go visit the website, subtle, eh?} in fact, i should be receiving a small royalty, as their PR person. cuz everytime, everywhere i have ever bought their cake, i brag and exalt the wonder of the claxton fruitcake. {ahem, *hint*hint*} why, just today, when i went to have a prescription refilled {perhaps there is a correlation, but i doubt it, i loved claxton fruitcake {*AHEM*} well before i began to take the meds...or perhaps that is just more support for the correlation, cuz dude, we all know i shoulda been on meds at that time, when i lived in georgia...ANNNnnnyway...} and while i was wondering around the drugstore, waiting for my drugs, i came across an entire display of claxton fruitcake. {*ahem*} the heavens opened, god's rays shone on those shelves {or it coulda been the sun glancing off the myriad of icicles hanging off the eaves...after all, it is literally freezing, as in 12 degrees...ANNNyyyway}, and all the candied fruit glowed like stained glass windows and i inhaled {causing the angels' chorus in my ears to gasp too} and took two lil cake/loaves up to the counter right away and began my bragging immediately. i told the cashier and the pharmacist and the other customer {who was edging away from me} that claxton fruitcake {*ahhhhh*} made in claxton, georgia is The Best. And this is what I said, twice:

If you hate fruitcake, or hesitate to try it cuz you've bought into all the stereotypes, try this {waving it in the air}; cuz it will change your life {i really meant to say mind}.

Claxton Fruit Cake {check it, ya know ya wanna}

baby~cakes!

Happy Birthday to my Jerry's oldest boy's baby boy! Today he is one year old. He's currently the youngest grandbaby, but not for long...

My Jerry's youngest's youngest is due at the end of May and she'll help even up the number of girls to boys amongst the grandchildren.


Happy birthdays for everyone concerned!

back to the grind

Today, I opted to burrow under the covers and read for the majority of the day. Then I got up, took a shower, put on some fresh clean jammies and swaddled my feet in two pairs of socks, and here I sit with my mug of hot peach tea that my Jerry made for me {cuz he treats me like I'm a princess}.

Our first week of the New Year promises to be a bit on the chilly side, with lows in the teens and highs just above freezing. I know your northern folk think we whine to excess when it gets a bit nippy, but that is cold no matter where you are! We're letting our faucets drip so the pipes don't freeze, so it sounds like a musical waterflow that you find in the Zen shops in here.

Supposedly, we might get a dusting of snow late Wednesday night or early Thursday morning or evening. Sometimes, we watch the flakes falling, but the ground temps melt it so it doesn't stick but maybe once a year and even then it's for a short time before the sun melts it off. But this time, I think it may stick and stay for a lil bit longer than usual. That'd be cool for the kids, but not so for the parents who just had the kids home for two weeks or so.

Today was my Jerry's first day back to work and his desk is buried under piles of paperwork, requests, assignments, pleas of assistance, and other stuff that accumulated during the break and that most folks want done RIGHT NOW cuz it's the start of a new term at the university. So he wasn't too happy about it all, but he's got a really good attitude and knows that he can do it. Cuz he's the man. *nodding sagely*

nnnnnnnnnnesting

Wow, here it is, day four already! I feel like hibernating. Actually, I have been doing a fair amount of that lately. New Year's Day dawned with Jerry not feeling too keen and his grandson wasn't feeling so hot either. I'd talked with my mom later that day and she said that there has been a stomach virus going around out there, so maybe that was it. My Jerry's feeling much better, but his grandson isn't yet.

Hopefully that will change in just a bit. Wednesday he turns ONE YEAR OLD!! Yea!! I know everyone is biased toward the lil ones in their lives, but he really is very cute. Really. And he knows it too!

This past week, my Jerry and his oldest son along with his son had their pictures done so that we have three generations of the Wolf men for the grandson's first birthday. Aw, super sweet, right? Yup, I think so too!

Jerry's youngest son and his wife were visiting with us for a few days. His son spent lots of time hunting and did get a deer, a nice buck. His wife and I treated ourselves to a lil pampering on Saturday and had lunch and got pedi's and manicures. It's been about ten years since I had artificial nails and so it's been a bit of a trick to get used to these. I didn't get them very long, but compared to how short I usually keep them, they seem super glamorous. And what with having my hair cut last week, I feel positively decadently spoiled.

Well, I am anyway. Sigh. It was nice seeing everyone these past few weeks, but I'm so ready to spend some time with just my Jerry, settling into a routine. Perhaps I will get to do some cleaning, and unpacking {from my move here after the wedding}, and setting things to rights.

I haven't hung any pictures back up, nor put the items we set aside for safe~keeping out for display. And I've been feeling like I really ought to get into that. So, that's the big thing on my agenda for the next few months.

I say "next few months" because I'm aware that I need some time to just rest up and all. I've been feeling a bit worn down and in need of some serious nappage and jammie~time. Fortunately, I can do that. Cuz I'm good at that.

Practice makes perfect.

*wink*