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By Maggie Mae,
The Long Rifle
Laura and Mary are schooled in the art of bullet making. Every night, Pa makes some bullets for the next day. I want to know why he doesn't plan ahead. The food will last. The woods are plentiful. This isn't like living in Huslia or Kobuk or Shungnak, where it's all hands on deck when a caribu herd comes around. He's got lots of food stored up. He can spend a day a month making bullets, which would likely save some resources.
Also, let's talk about the fact that bullet making involves melting bits of lead, pouring it from a spoon into a mold, and telling his daughters to stop touching the still hot bullets. Lead. I hear lead is delicious, maybe that's why they keep touching them and then sucking on their fingers.
After the bullets, Pa cleans his gun. The illustration of Pa, Mary and Laura looks more like Mr Olsen (best character in the show), Nelly, and a brown haired toddler. But I digress. Oh, nope... I just noticed he is NOT following basic gun safety in this illustration, but I'm not going to share it because I'm not sure sharing every single illustration falls under fair use. Sorry. He's holding like a cane, with his hand over the top. Never point the gun at anything you don't want to shoot! This must mean he wants to shoot himself through his hand and into his chin.
Pa also keeps the gun loaded at all times. In my world, guns are always unloaded and locked in a safe, not hung on a hook across a door. The ammo is kept in a different safe. My coworker, however, just keeps hers in her purse. I dislike that immensely. She has kids. I don't.
Also, what a pain in the ass. Pa has to stop after firing and reload by measuring gun powder, putting in a "patch" and then a bullet and a fresh cap. I just make sure the shell ejected and then slap a new one in. Technology! I also don't shoot animals. I shoot clay things with a shotgun and the target at the biathlon range with my biathlon rifle.
Pa is a very good shot, and he always kills bears and panthers in one shot. I don't have panthers, but I always carry bear spray for bears because it's safer and more effective. I also don't think I would hit a bear that was charging me. I saw The Revenant.
After the bullet making, Pa tells the girls a story.
The Story of Pa and the Voice in the Woods
Pa was once young and his job was to track down the cows. One time, he got distracted by all the other creatures who lived in the woods and pretended he was an "Indian" until the birds started doing bird things. He called for the cows and they didn't come. (I can't imagine cows coming when they are called, but also now I want to go pet a cow. I used to have a great aunt in Northern Michigan (not the UP) who owned a dairy farm (not a factory type place) and I was SO shocked when I learned that dairy cows aren't black and white like on the package of milk (in the 90s). I was so shocked and upset that I didn't want to pet the depressing brown cows. I am sad now, because all cows have such big dumb eyes and soft fur.
Look at this guy.Spoiler
Or these guys.Spoiler
Other cows also deserve love.
I don't know how I can reconcile my love of cows with my love of carne asada, skirt steak, beef bourguignon, bolognase sauce, sunday gravy, steak, and beef wellington. UGH the struggle is real. I want to be ethical and a good person, but there is nothing like tenderloin wrapped in mushrooms and puff pastry. Or a corn tortilla with grilled carne asada, cilantro, chopped onions, and hot sauce. I also really like pigs and would like to stop eating them, but then there is pasta e fagioli.
I should blog more on Feed Jinger.
Oh, right. Pa is out in the woods being racist against Native Americans but it was well before the civil rights movement and I'm not entirely certain Wisconsin was even a state yet, and he lost his family's herd of cows. It's after dark, and he's in the woods. He's running around calling for the cows, and I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit amused by a small child running around aimlessly yelling "here cows." He thinks he hears a panther, but it's only his own breathing. He yells "Sukey! Sukey!" and then a VOICE from the woods starts yelling "Who?" back at him! He runs and runs.Spoiler
1:10 if the embedding didn't work.
Anyway, spoiler alert, it's an owl.
All of the cows had already come home on their own (or Grandpa had brought them home, It's unclear), and Pa had torn off his toe nail.
Pa gets a thrashing at 9. His dad also makes fun of him a bit for being scared by an owl, which tells me he had his eye on the kid the whole time.
I liked the glimpse of Pa's early childhood. The story had lots of adventure and excitement. I am less interested in bullet making and gun cleaning. However, I do like that these books are giving a very interesting and not - textbook approach to learning about day-to-day life in a bygone era.
Oh gosh you guys! She went to college, worked, and had been in love before meeting her husband - no wonder they quarrel.
this is full of awesome.
I just found the above amusing. it actually pro-education even for women so progressive by Duggar standards.
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One of my closest friends is getting married this weekend. Since her initials will become PBJ, I made her this card. Now I have to figure out what to write inside. I feel so much pressure!
There’s also a memorial they visit every time they are in town and is the location where her fiancé proposed. So nce it’s small I couldn’t find any souviners online as a gift, so I contacted park services. I spoke with someone there and got them a magnet and postcard, which I’m putting in the envalope as well.
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Don't get me wrong. I actually do love my sister. Except when I do not. And she has made it really really hard to love her in the last (doing the math here) 3.5 years. (no really last 'contact' was June 2014 in a cryptic 'stand down, I'm alive' Facebook post - oh and this was in the period when I was getting Mom diagnosed with dementia and dealing with drive-offs and actually needed to talk to her).
And yesterday was her birthday. And Facebook likes to remind me of this because her birthdays are turned on (for the record, mine is not because I don't always react well to 'everybody' screaming happy birthday at me for days) - even though her last post was June 2014.
I assume she is alive. That assumption is based on statements I receive (no, really) regarding her storage unit when the payments are late. My means of communicating with her is via facebook messages that indicate no receipt but trust me they are getting through somehow (I care not how) because a few months ago the storage unit threatened to sell her stuff and I communicated that to her and for a month or so no notice. In the mail today - yup, another notice about late payment. So I just sent another message and the lovely I miss you pangs have reverted back instantaneously to I hate you.
My suspicion based on a limited about of internet research/stalking is that she's having financial issues and hiding from creditors (because that is always a great way to deal with issues). And I cannot help her if she doesn't want to be helped (as indicated by her hiding from everyone).
I did not wish her a public happy birthday yesterday because in the past that has resulted in friends of hers, some dating back to high school coming out of the woodwork and then I have to go through this whole weird explanation of I have zero clue what is going on or where she is. Which always feels so sad and stupid. I'll also admit to not attending certain family functions (mainly on the paternal side) because my uncle is going to ask about her and really I want him to leave it (and about half dozen other subjects) alone but he won't. (and really dude, you are my father's brother and you know how he was so whey the hell are you of all people expecting me to know or figure out or get through to my sister who is acting the same way he did)??
The positive news of the morning from the same batch of mail is that the Recovering State of Brownbacistan has renewed Mom's Medicaid for another year.
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He's the most helpful helper who ever helped! He inspected the Amazon box & contents for danger, he kept me company while I worked. He's a very curious kitty. I mean it's entirely possible that I was cutting cheese on the walking around on thing, he had to be ready in case a piece fell.
Thank you @EowynW for the gift idea! I've never made lotion bars before. I do soap pretty regularly but haven't ventured into butter territory. I got some 2oz screw top tins from Amazon, they are purrfect!
I used: shea butter, beeswax, Jojoba oil, a drop of Vitamin E, & French lavender & sage for scent.
I haven't felt much like posting picture of the day entries recently for some reason, but my husband just scanned this one for me and I really like how it turned out so was motivated to post today.
I did this one with prismacolor premier colored pencils. I did use blending with the big flowers. The rest is just plain old coloring.
So, we start off with not long left until Emily gives birth.
You need the toilet a lot when pregnant!
It's go time!
Daniel freaks out.
... a BOY! Welcome to the world, Martin Westbury-Smith!
Over to the Pearsons. Eliza works on writing a new violin tune.
Here's Adam as a Child. His hairdo is very similar to Mark's.
Uh oh, Adam thinks it's a good idea to play with ketchup and flour...
Eliza reads to her son.
Hmm... Mark's gone stripy. He got a "Giggly" moodlet, so I guess the diagnosis is Gas and Giggles. No, me neither. Sim illnesses are weird.
Adam sure is a helpful kid!
And now it's go time for Eliza!
TWINS! Eliza has the Fertile trait (from the Rewards store), so it's not entirely unexpected. And they're her first daughters, Chloe and Delilah.
It's also Harvestfest! Harvestfest is a bit like Thanksgiving, in that one of the traditions is being thankful. Another tradition is "holiday gnomes"... yeah, Sims being Sims again. Gnomes appear in your house and you have to appease them. This one didn't appreciate pie. WHAT KIND OF GNOME DOESN'T LIKE PIE???
Adam going to meet his sisters. Chloe is in the pink crib and Delilah in the green one.
Eliza threw a Harvestfest house party. And I was reminded that pretty much all the males in the family have the same dang shirt! L-R for the guys: Elijah, Eddie, Mark, Elliot.
Eliza eating some turkey dinner. One tradition is to cook a "grand meal", with a choice of turkey, ham, fish or tofurkey. (I much prefer the Sims 3 name for veggie turkey, Tursoykey). Once you've had a plateful, you get a "dazed" moodlet called "food coma" #soaccurate
Emily decided to use the bath. Ah well, Eliza had puked in Emily's toilet a couple of days earlier...
Adam decided to eat some spoiled food. Bad idea.
Yup, bad. Now he feels nauseous. THERE WAS A PLATE OF TURKEY THERE WHY DID YOU GO FOR SPOILED OMELETTE
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It grieves us to share that long time poster and helpmeet @Arete has passed due to complications from cancer.
Arete joined FJ in 2012 and described herself as "I'm in my early 40s, live in the Northeast US, and work as an ebil scientist. Born and raised Greek Orthodox Christian, and still am, got to have my smells and bells in congregational prayer. Politically liberal."
She was glad to provide information about her church, her experiences in gardening, and her Greek family traditions.
In respect for her family's privacy, we won't be sharing any additional details, but we know you will join us in honoring the memory of a graceful woman.
Tonight's song I've been listening to over and over is "I'm Not the Man" by Ben Folds. I am basically trying to find every live version I can on youtube. I have been obsessed with this song since the album came out. It gives me a lump in my throat when I listen to it sometimes. In February, I'll be seeing Ben live with a local orchestra. I have no clue if he'll play this one but I might go a bit crazy if he does.
A lovely live version is behind the spoiler tag.Spoiler
In high school, I liked the song "Brick" by Ben Folds Five. But I never really listened to Ben Folds much until around maybe 2010 or so. Since then, I've been kind of obsessed. I listen to him almost every single day. I'm not sure if that's healthy or not...ha! He just has so many great songs. The one I posted above is from his most recent album. I've only seen him perform live once in 2012. We're finally seeing him again next year and I am so freaking excited about it. As dumb and cliche and it sounds....his music has really helped me get through tough times. This won't be the last Ben song I post here.
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This week I have accomplished something great, HUGE even:
I have finally found shoes that don't make my little toes feel like they somehow missed their amputation appointment.
Color - check
Ease of purchase - check
Ability to reorder 1000000 pairs at once - near check (I actually want to wear them a bit more first to make sure they'll hold up ok).
No attack of the allergies while shopping - check
NO squished painful toes! - CHECK!
You have no idea how happy I am about this. YEARS and MANY shoes of attempted this made me wonder if it might be impossible without emptying my bank account. Apparently it IS possible. YAY! I'm so happy. I once found a pair of shoes when I was really desperate that were good, except they were something like 5 times my budget at the time which wasn't really possible.
So, long live internet shopping and long may I be able to purchase shoes with free return, and no import taxes.
(and may internet shopping greatly improve. I got my feet scanned so I could find out what shoes would fit best and the damn thing won't even tell me that. I have to look at each individual shoe *sigh* At least the scan did inform me that I have WIDE feet, and thus I'm not imagining that )
The search for work/formal shoes/boots continues. I ordered some 'wide' ankle boots online. People complained in the reviews that they were too wide. I try them on and was so terribly terribly saddened. I'm not sure how much foot binding those reviewers did in their youth, but those boots made me want to get rid of 2 full toes spread over 3 toes, on each foot. They were NOT wide enough. I guess the bonus was I could actually squeeze my feet into the boots. There have been times in the last five years and the 100s or possibly 1000s of shoes/boots tried on, where it just wasn't possible to do that.
And I guess while I talk about footwear, it's time I got some new gardening shoes. I don't know what I want, or how to find cheap enough footwear that'll fit, is sturdy enough and won't get full of dirt every time I step outside (ok ok, today it was manure and dirt)
Then I might need some gumboots , and I'll be sorted for the next 20 years. One may dream right?
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Earlier today, I was at work with my Google Play Music on shuffle, and a song from the OBC recording of Annie popped up randomly. Weird, but whatever. It was one of my favorite musicals as a kid and I still have a bit of a soft spot for spunky red-headed orphans (see also PIppi Longstocking, Sansa Stark) Of course I listened to the entire thing, including a bunch of early mixes I hadn't heard before. I grew up in the time of tapes, and we were poor for a good portion of my life. I still remember my first walkman and the first two tapes - Amy Grant, Heart in Motion, and Annie. So I've listened to it a few times. (Eventually I also got an Ace of Base tape, a Madonna Tape, and some early 90s R&B, before moving on to CDs). Anyway, so I'm listening to some early mixes, and it hits me.
I love musicals.
This wasn't a revelation. But I love musicals because they are political. Every single one I've ever loved is political at it's very core. Annie - wealth disparity, the New Deal, history, Hoovervilles, all wrapped up in a shiny happy broadway theme. Rent - AIDS crisis, HIV stigma, poverty, wealth disparity, journalism integrity, the American Dream. Newsies - history - newsboys strike, Christian Bale singing with Bill Pullman, poverty, journalism, wealth disparity. Cabaret - rise of fascism while everyone parties. Les Mis, Chicago, even Mary Poppins has a liberal political message/history lesson in the middle of it. Sound of Music. Fiddler on the Roof. West Side Story. South Pacific. Avenue Q.
It appears that my favorite musicals (other than Mamma Mia, which we should just not talk about because I will fight you if you hate it) are the ones about living in poverty and doing the best you can with what you got. Not throwing away your shot, if you will.
Which brings me to a different memory.
I was talking to a guy on skype. He had lived next door to a very close friend, and he was dating a different "friend" of mine from high school. This was in the early 2000s and everyone was talking about the election, Bush V Gore, the Patriot Act, Ralph Nader, John McCain, and assorted topics. This guy was literally the first person who didn't even humor me with my "you should vote for x person in the local election." He was just "no. I don't vote." And even with his reasoning, I could not accept that. I still can not accept that. I don't understand that viewpoint, and I probably never will. It's been at least a decade since I talked to that guy, and I just don't get it. What do you do all day when you aren't political? What do you talk about? When you talk about "how to make the world better" what do you say? Is the number of people who hate politics at all correlated to people who hate musicals?
Which brings me to how does anyone hate musicals? I know they exist and are out there but why? Is it like my hatred of country music? They hear it and have the same full body uncomfortable feeling? That's so sad. I feel like I owe so much of my knowledge of history to my love of Broadway, as these groundbreaking musicals inspired me to study things in history that I probably wouldn't know about otherwise. I wouldn't have read Allan Ginsburg's Howl without Rent. I wouldn't have read The Berlin Stories without Cabaret. Fictional characters set during war time give the audience a grasp of what it was like for those who aren't Generals or State Politicians.
BTW. If Cabaret comes to your city, go see it. It's topical.
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The Long Dark is a first-person survival simulation video game by a Canadian company called Hinterland. It's currently in alpha release (available on Steam for both PC and X box platforms), so there are constant changes, updates, and tweaking. The game is frequently updated with new areas, new mechanics,and new looks/feels.
The setting is the frozen far-north Canadian wilderness after some kind of freak global disaster (currently not much info is yet available about that). So, there's no electricity or anyone else around (which they capture really well with an isolated/desolate feel to the game--you're on your own!), and you have to scavenge food, water, clothing, and other resources that will keep you alive all while protecting yourself from the elements.
Oh, and the wolves. And did I mention the bears? Yeah, those godless killing machines, too.
Currently, there are only 2 modes available:
- "Sandbox"--you have the freedom to explore the world as you wish, with the goal being to survive as long as you can. And when you die, it's perma-death. No saves for you! (This perma-death/no save feature really pissed me off when the game glitched out on my longest survival run yet--529 in-game days, which put me on the leaderboard on Steam in the 42nd place).
- "Challenge"--you can choose two pre-set challenges and try to beat the clock to accomplish the set goals (Oh, and watch out for that bear on "The Hunted, Part 1," because it's a bitch).
There will eventually be a "Story" mode that will provide an RPG-type experience (and will allow saving, from what I understand), but that is still in development. I think the first chapter is due to be released sometime in the next month or couple of months.
Let's take a look at just a few visuals, because the game is pretty visually stunning.
Here's a gorgeous sunset over a frozen lake in an area called "Mystery Lake." There's a lot of walking, climbing, running, hiding (and falling and starving and freezing and dying) through these beautiful landscapes.
A more typical snowscape, with a peach-tinged sunrise in the background.
Here, I was trying to make it to a safe location in the dead of night, and turned around to catch the moon rising in between some stark trees.
Here's a typical shelter that provides refuge from the cold (and usually food, drink, and supplies). Actually, this is one of the swank digs in the game. A lot of the time you're kickin' it in a quonset hut, a little shack, or even a cave. Hell, I've been caught up in blizzards when out running for supplies and had to make due with a hollowed out tree. Oh, and there are also some "prepper caches" hidden in two of the maps, so you can luck out and find some really good stores of supplies.
There are currently 5 well-developed play areas (Coastal Highway, Mystery Lake, Pleasant Valley, Desolation Point, and Timberwolf Mountain), with more (from what I know) still in development. You can do fun (or terrifyingly dangerous, depending on your level of adrenaline junkiness) things like rappel down mountains, climb up mountains, ice fish (there are some cool little ice fishing huts on the frozen lakes), or try to find the wreckage of your airplane to scavenge for supplies.
You can also trap rabbits, hunt wolves (usually *they're* hunting *you*, though), or hunt bears, and their skins can be made into useful clothing that can mean the difference between freezing to death and being toasty warm as you explore the landscape.
I have been greatly enjoying it, and even though it's still only in alpha release and Sandbox mode is the most in-depth game play mode right now, I haven't yet gotten tired of it. Well, not *too* tired of it. They just recently did an update, so that's made me a pretty happy camper.
I plan to post more (I've got some more interesting screenshots and will probably post a couple "Day in the Life Of" type posts), but here's a video of the most recent update, which will give you a feel for what the game looks like in action:
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I'm making my first attempt to cook rice in my Instant Pot. I am completely incapable of making rice that isn't either mush or crunchy, no matter what I do. Here's what I have done so far:
1 c. wild rice
2 c. water
1tsp better than bullion veggie because it sounded good.
Put in pot and set to 25 min per https://www.platingsandpairings.com/cook-perfect-rice-instant-pot/.
Prayed Rufus' blessing on my endeavour.
Blogged about it on FJ. Updates to follow.
Keeping Up With The Dunkels - Chapter 14: Dunkels Double Date
Back at the Miceli's, Hobart brought his doctor friend home for dinner again one night, and one of Adalyn's sisters just happened to be visiting to help with the baby.
Wow! Aimee Joy and Christian seemed to be hitting it off! "What do you think about an ice cream sundae reception?" she asked him.
"Huh? That's crazy."
Hmm... maybe not.
Uh oh... is there trouble at Adam and Mehrissa's new house?
Nope! Apparently when you adopt a pet, the police are nice enough to bring it over. Er... sure. Why question it? Adam and Mehrissa's boys had been begging for a pet for ages, and their parents finally decided to get them a little puppy named Bear. Aww!
With Mehrissa expecting another (hopefully) tiny blessing, it sure was going to be a full house soon! She wore her hot pink maternity pajamas, hoping God might take the hint.
Not long after Aimee Joy was introduced to Hobart's doctor friend Christian Cwik, Anna Grace started talking to another young man from church, Waylon Menon. She was a little worried when he expressed his admiration for women who kept in shape - that wasn't her at all! But it COULD be her!
After Waylon left, Anna Grace jumped right on that treadmill. She got off to a rocky start, but she purposed to work out every single day, determined to win Waylon's affections, and soon she was physically fit!
"Wow, I can tell you're a young lady with a heart for the Lord, who also LOVES to lift!" Waylon exclaimed, impressed, and promptly went to talk to her brother to see if he could start a group text.
*To the tune of Butterfly Kisses* "I know the cake looks funny, Daddy... but I sure tried!
Oh... wait... my daddy's dead. And he wasn't my real daddy, anyway. Oh well."
Guess what? Christian and Aimee
GraceJoy (I am seriously surprised I don't mess up these names more often, folks) may have gotten off on the wrong foot (seriously, ladies, enough with the ice cream sundaes), but soon they were getting along just fine. In fact, little adopted brother Alexander was only too happy to chaperone as they started an OFFICIAL COURTSHIP!
Aimee Joy was thrilled that her educated and employed suitor took her out on nice dates (don't worry, the chaperones are right there at the next table). She didn't mind at all that he had a gay brother in the city. What was one gay brother?! They were totally in sync on everything. They even discussed the sort of house they would move to if, Lord willing, they got married!
Anna Grace wasn't far behind her twin sister. Her dates with Waylon were a little more low key, but she didn't mind at all. She was more than happy to show off her homemaking skills by impressing him with the most complicated meal any of her sisters had ever made: spaghetti and meatballs.
Both sisters were totally sure they had found the men they were going to marry! FINALLY!!! Being single in your mid-20s is such a trial, ya'll!
Back in the Big Scary City... Abigail was still fuming about the way Gilbert had treated her. She decided she was finally going to take the plunge and try online dating.
Her first date was with a firefighter in a trench coat. She thought that was kind of weird, and she'd had bad luck with guys in trench coats - plus, all she could keep thinking about was how mad she was at Gilbert. But she decided to give trench coat man 3.0 a shot anyway.
Sadly he turned out to be totally meh. All he could talk about was himself, and Abigail found herself far more interested in the basketball game on TV than him. She didn't even like sports!
A couple weeks later, she had another date lined up with a guy named Neil. This guy seemed much more promising. He looked normal, didn't wear a trench coat, and didn't try to jump into bed with her on the first date (which is a good thing, since Abigail is still trying to get over her fundie upbringing and hasn't had the best of luck with dudes and, er, hasn't even kissed a guy yet. Shh...)
WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS.
Abigail and Neil planned to meet up for another date the following week. When he texted her to let her know he was outside, she asked him to come in, because she was going to be about another five minutes getting ready. But when he walked in the door, he was dressed like THAT.
"Um, hey Neil, what's up with the outfit?" she asked with a light laugh, trying not to show her alarm. "Are you in a play tonight or something?"
"What? Nope, 'course not. I'm taking you out on a date. This is just how I dress. Haha! I know it may seem weird, but I'm part of a plant-worshiping group and we have to dress like this to do our rituals. It's not a big deal, we just have sexual intercourse with plants to gain their leafy powers for ourselves. I was hoping you'd come to tonight's meeting with me."
Abigail kindly asked him to leave.
"Fuck you, Gilbert!" she thought to herself, as Neil walked out the door. Some misdirected anger there, I think, but okay.
Things were going much better back at the Dunkel homestead. The twins' suitors coordinated between themselves to do a... double proposal! Oh my gosh! How sweet and how neat!
Aimee Joy and Anna Grace were absolutely ecstatic. This time they both say, "YES!" Looks like there's a double wedding in the (VERY NEAR) future!
NIKE! Don't worry, Cara was alone in the privacy of her beige bedroom as she celebrated her third pregnancy. #Blessed!
Adam and Mehrissa's boys were growing up. So far little Bryson was the only one with Mama's colouring.
Bear grew up too! Good dog.
Addyson liked to escape the Dunkel homestead now and then to visit her cousins' house, where there were only six people and a dog.
Happy Birthday, Braydon! Time for a haircut, I think, little buddy.
Just as Mehrissa put Bryson down for his afternoon nap, she went into labour for the fifth time. This labour was the fastest yet, and they didn't even have a chance to call the midwife! Thankfully that baby just slid right out of her, a mere 10 pounds even, and she was back on her feet making tater tot casserole that very same night! Meet...
Brody Dunkel! Yep. It's another boy. Sorry Mehrissa - maybe next time! I mean, look on the bright side. There will definitely be a next time.
Adalyn was soooooo enjoying being a mommy. It was the most precious thing ever! As she watched her little David grow into a toddler, all she could think of was how much he looked like his daddy. Where was Hobart, anyway?
Out schmoozing, it seems. Look, the man is a DOCTOR, he has to make connections in the community. He can't be expected to sit around at home with his wife and kid all day. How else is he supposed to provide for them? And yes, he's at a disreputable establishment with GAMBLING, but that's where the work luncheon was held. He can't help that, can he?
Okay, I know this looks bad, but Dr. Amanda [mumbled last name] is European, okay? It would be the height of rudeness not to greet her with a kiss!
But it seems Hobart tried to do a little more than greet her, if you know what I mean. To her credit, she was having none of it. "Are you crazy, Hobart?" she exclaimed. "I know you're married! We're standing outside your own house, for God's sake! I'm out of here."
Hobart could only hope that this little 'misunderstanding' wouldn't get spread around town by his colleague...
Meanwhile, inside the house, Adalyn was about to welcome their second precious blessing! "Hobart! Hobart?! Where are you?!" she called.
Oh well. Adalyn was sure he'd be along to welcome his newborn daughter Daisy to the world eventually.
A few days later, Abigail was surprised to see Hobart out and about downtown, and at the sort of establishment fundies usually steered clear of. "Hobart? What're you doing here?" she asked. "Didn't Adalyn just have a baby?"
Hobart laughed her off and told her he was there for a 'work event', but she watched in consternation as he sat down to play poker with some strange women, who seemed more than a little interested in how much money a doctor of his calibre made.
Guess who? While Abigail was out and about and worrying about her brother-in-law, her "ex-boyfriend" Gilbert showed up outside her house AGAIN. Good thing she wasn't there to see him, because there might have been a throw down, and not in a sexy way.
So long for now! Hope you enjoyed today's update. Check back soon for... a Dunkel Double Wedding! And so much more. Maybe a Dunkel restraining order, too (take a hint, Gilbert)!
This fucking summer. This fucking year, really. So. My marriage, which limped along while I was super depressed because I just didn't care, is really rocky right now. I'm not sure he knows that it's total shit- I think he thinks everything is great. I mean, I finally stopped nagging him. I'm just really quiet all the time. I never ask him to do anything around the house anymore and just do it all myself. Because I'm fucking tired of having to tell a grown man, over and over and over again, that he needs to put effort into his own life outside of work. For the first time in a long time I'm thinking about the future and I'm just exhausted by the thought of however many more decades with him. I get one life and I'm not sure I want to spend it as someone's damn live-in help- there is no mystical property of a penis that prevents the owner of said genitals from cleaning the shower once in a fucking while, without being reminded six times, and without whining about it.
It all came to a head when one of his friends (who, silly me, I thought was my friend too- hahaha, no) told him that he's avoiding me on purpose (we're next door neighbors, it was getting pretty weirdly obvious) because he's got some Mike Pence flavored asshole ideas about the world. Well, the dude didn't acknowledge his own Mike Penceness, just said that he won't be alone with his friends' wives*. Like, what the fuck, dude, I'm a PERSON. I'm a PERSON. I don't BELONG to my husband, and I don't just drop my fucking pants every time I'm alone in a room with someone! As a matter of fact, the vast majority of times I have ever been alone with another human being, I was wearing my pants the whole time. The whole time!
*I'll note that this rule was clearly not in existence last year, before I lost 50 pounds.
Believe it or not I swallowed my rage (it took some serious swallowing) and did not make him eat his own mailbox. See? Agency. Choices. Not ruled by my emotions/gonads/instincts. Almost like I'm people or something.
Like, holy shit guys, I'm being treated like I'm an appliance with tits by basically all sides these days. This sucks and MANY things officially tasted better than thin feels.
Until recently, I foolishly assumed that since the laundry area shelves and brackets were 1.5 inch thick solid wood, that they had been properly anchored to the wall by the previous owners.
Long story short, they weren't!
They are now, and I'm extremely grateful that no one was hurt when one of the brackets holding up a fully loaded shelf pulled itself out of the wall.
Everyone, please check to make sure your shelves are secure!
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Hey everyone! In advance of Thanksgiving, I thought I'd share a family turkey recipe! Fair warning, this takes FOREVER to cook. I do it in advance of the big day. Enjoy.
Sauce: Enough for or a 15 pound turkey or smaller
Relajo (spice mix).. you can find this at some Mexican grocery stores in a little baggie or make your own
3 chopped onions
2 Red bell peppers chopped
1/2 small can tomato paste
12 peeled tomatoes (from a can, buy two large cans and use 12, plus juice)
2 cartons Chicken stock
Toast the relajo on a frying pan until its fragrant
Cook the onions until transluesent, add bell peppers and relajo
Add tomatoes and tomato juice
Cook low and bubbly for 30 min
Blend the sauce as fine as possible (you can use regular blender, but let it cool before blending, or immersion blender)
Add half carton of chicken stock and cook for 20 min
Get another pot. Place a fine strainer over the empty pot, and slowly strain the sauce into the pot using a spoon to push the sauce against the strainer and squeeze as much juice out as possible. This juice should be thin and red. Place the pulp into a bowl and repeat until all the thick blended sauce is strained.
Now take the pulp and put it back in the original pot, adding another half carton of stock. Cook for 20 min.
Repeat the straining. Cook one more time with more broth. Strain again. (so three rounds of cooking and straining)
You can throw away the pulp, and what you have left in the pot is your sauce! Season to taste. If its too sour, mix in some brown sugar
For the turkey:
· Worcestershire sauce
· 1/2 cup white wine
· Stuffed spanish olives
The night before, poke the turkey with a fork. Rub the butter, mustard, and worcestershire sauce all over the turkey and get inside the skin
Put the turkey in a pan with the sauce, olives and capers drained, white wine, paprika and cook in oven.
Make sure you baste often it while its cooking
The sauce gets its final flavor from the turkey. After cooking with the turkey, it can be frozen used as sauce on other things. Also, a good Salvadoran post-thanksgiving meal is pan con pavo/ pan con chumpe, which is a turkey sandwich with the sauce, radishes, and cucumbers. Use a crusty bread.
Sauce can be made a week in advance, and keep in Tupperware in the fridge. Or freeze if holding for longer.
Throwback to last year's stuffing recipe:
So I finally caved in after struggling with combs and bristle brushes and bought a Furminator at the recommendation of a couple of websites and the woman at the Pet Barn (who clearly had no ulterior motive in selling me a stupidly expensive cat grooming item). I was skeptical and for $Aus56 I was crossing my fingers (and everything else) that it would be worth it.
And then this happened.......
This is thing is FREAKING AMAZING. Both of them sat for ages purring away and loving every second of it. Oh, and that bottom photo? That all came out of Alfie's tail.
However I am feeling like a bad cat parent because I clearly haven't been doing much good with my previous combs and brushes
I've recently been playing around with watercolors a lot (mostly because I wanted to paint something nice for my bestie for her birthday) and I just kinda wanted to show off some of the things I've done recently. So this post now exists.
Most of these are from my #drawweirdaleveryday project (which I gave up for a long while but am now doing again) but the cat is my friend's cat Khéops. I painted that for her birthday.
I've got one more I could show, but it's not quite done (it's also meant to be a surprise yet and its recipient hasn't seen it yet).
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I feel the need to get this off my chest, even if nobody really reads this.
Yesterday marked the end of a chapter of my life that was open for 16 years - since I was 16 myself.
When I was 16 I met someone online. We were the same age (or so I thought - years later she admitted she was actually 6 years older than me) and had similar interests and immediately clicked as friends. In fact, it turned into more than friendship and we started a long-distance relationship. I was infatuated, in love as only a 16-year-old could be.
I vividly remember our first fight. It was around the time of my 17th birthday. We had a mutual friend who was interested in a site called Furcadia. She'd invited us both to play with her but my girlfriend wasn't interested. I decided to give it a try, though. When she found out I'd been hanging out there with our friend she was furious. I was taken aback, but I placated her and it was over.
Thus began my dealings with a person suffering from psychiatrist-diagnosed Narcissistic Personality Disorder. In the early years she broke up with me several time. Each time I was sobbing and heart broken. Each time I was told to get over it. At one stage I moved across the country to live with her. I had no car and no way of catching public transport so she promised to drive me around. Three days before my flight she dumped me. When I moved there, she refused to drive me around. My parents had to buy me a car and drive it cross country. Two months later she decided she didn't want to live there any more and broke the lease to move back home. I had to do the same.
She told me to move on because we were never getting back together. Eventually, I did.
I kept it from her, knowing that in spite of her telling me to move on she would be furious. I didn't lie about it, I just never mentioned it. I didn't really try to hide it. Enevitably she found out and the fallout was phenomenal. Eventually, we began talking again. She wanted to resume our relationship after mine ended, but after she had stranded me across the country without so much as a single apology for her actions I'd seen her true colours and could never feel the same about her. I was willing to be friends, but any love I'd felt had been crushed by the hurt I felt.
Despite not being in a relationship, she rewrote the history of mine. She accused me of being with him while I was still with her. She claimed that she'd never said to get over her and that she'd been trying to get back together with me while I was with him. None of that was true. After telling me so many times I had to get over things she'd done in the past, she never let go of my 'betrayal'.
Once I found out about the NPD I began to learn how to avoid the arguments and brush off the constant criticism. I was a bad friend, I made her wait too long when we talked online, my illness got in the way all the time, she made all the time in the world for me but I wasn't reciprocating. Somehow, amidst the constant barrage of criticism she kept hinting at us getting back together, but she wanted me to be the one to make the move.
That's when I realised - she didn't love me. I was her backup plan. When she had a better prospect she was happy to let me go, but when there was nobody else she wanted me. She took for granted that I'd wait around for her and ask to get back together and be grateful for the opportunity.
She was wrong.
A couple of years ago, I met someone new. Somebody whose love didn't come at the cost of my self worth. Someone who didn't complain about making endless sacrifices for me and ignore the sacrifices I made from then. In fact, I didn't need to make sacrifices for him at all.
It was a love different to any I've felt before, and the first time we met up I realised I couldn't imagine my life without him. Earlier this year, we got married and it was the best thing I've ever done. Naturally, I did not tell her.
I told him everything about her - how our relationship had started, the ways it had ended, and our continuing 'friendship'. I told him that she viewed us as being in a relationship even though I hadn't agreed to one. I was completely honest, and he was completely supportive. He encouraged me to disconnect with her, made me finally believe I didn't deserve the constant criticism, that even though I'd learned to deal with her and didn't rise to the bait it still negatively affected me. He didn't push. He just let me do it at my own pace.
Yesterday, I finally disconnected for good.
It was over something relatively minor in the scheme of our rocky relationship. I was going through something difficult and she was angry with me for being distracted by it because she was having problems too. I told her I was dealing with a potentially terminal illness in my family. Most people would at least offer some perfunctory sympathy. An 'I'm sorry', even if the next word was 'but'. But she didn't. She was just angry I wasn't asking about her issues.
And that's what did it.
I told her I had nothing more to say to her, and this time I truly meant it.
I know how different the story would be coming from her. I am a horrible person, a heartbreaker, cold and cruel. I am a cheater and a liar. I am not a saint and I know I've done things out of anger or hurt to lash out at her. I am not blameless. I feel genuinely sorry for what she's going through right now and it's very hard to not tell her so, but I can't get drawn back into contact. My words yesterday confirmed to her every bad thing she's ever thought about me and she will never forgive me. She'll hate me. I needed it to be that way. I wasn't cruel, at least I tried not to be. I wanted to say she was a narcissist and a hypocrite, but I didn't. I didn't get mad. I just said I could no longer be in contact - but that's all it will take. Ending things myself, on my terms - that's an unforgivable sin. I still feel guilty, despite everything. I hate hurting or upsetting anyone.
But at last, I can finally breathe.
As I may have mentioned before, I am not a morning person. As the kids' summer break from school has gone on, they and I have been going to sleep a bit later and yet later than we should. Our travel plans wisely took this into account.
So, day 1 of our trip did not start early. We got up at about our usual time, and I packed for myself and the 2 kids while my DH swiftly packed for himself. We then travelled about 30 minutes and then stopped for a meal and a full tank of gas. (This is also the first trip that we've taken as a family when I have done the majority of the driving. My only requirement of my husband was that he do all the "big city" driving.)
On the plus side, we only had a 4 to 5 hour drive to our hotel in the beautiful Wallowa Valley (Oregon). On the minus side, the only picture I got that day was at a rest area:
By the time we got to Wallowa Lake, it was dark, all the lovely scenery was not visible, and the hotel registration desk was closed. (We did see a deer by the side of the road in the dark. Fortunately, it stayed on the side of the highway.) On a different plus side, the hotel staff were trusting enough to leave our room key where we could get it and have a nice night's sleep. Thus ended day 1 of the WWJCD family trip. (royal flourish)
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I have been rebuked by a fellow FJer for doing the cleaning post wrong. So, here's an attempt at doing it right.
Today was the day of the week where my job makes us clean the ceiling fans. My boss took the initiative, telling me I'd better get off my cell phone and do some actual work if I was interested in getting paid. I purposed in my heart that I would dust the ceiling fans.
While I went to the office to flip the switch that would turn on the fans, I thought about death. Would death be preferable to cleaning ceiling fans? If I fell off the ladder and broke my neck, did I know where I was going? What would happen if I fell of the ladder and broke my ankle? I would just have to trust in the lord that everything would be ok.
I purposed in my heart to be brave, and prayed that God would give me the courage to climb that ladder, for lo, I do not like heights.
I took the long handled dust mop, climbed the ladder, and wiped the blades with the dust mop. Since we clean our ceiling fans for Jesus every week, there wasn't much dust to begin with, and I forgot to take pictures. The before and after ones would have looked the same anyway, since everything here gets cleaned all the time.
After getting off that really high really scary ladder, I spent all the rest of the day praying for forgiveness for all my sins. Praise the Lord.
There, was that better? Sort of? I really do hate that stupid ladder, but I exaggerated exactly how much it freaks me out. Well....sort of.....
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On 1/15/2019 at 6:36 PM, Briefly said:
That is one of those decisions that is up to you, not your family. They don't get a vote! I think you are smart to get it in writing.
A very good friend of mine, we call each other sisters from other mothers and we are as close as is humanly possible, lost her 25 year old daughter to cancer. She had two children, then the cancer diagnoses and she had treatment She was advised not to have any more children and the doctor was worried that the cancer would come back, but that was because of the type/location of the cancer and her general health was the part of the reason he suggested no more babies. The cancer did come back and she started treatment, then she got pregnant again. She continued the pregnancy and treatment for the cancer stopped. When the baby was just a few months old, she died. Her funeral was held on what would have been her 26 birthday. At the time, from the way she talked, most people (including her own mother) thought that she really did not want to continue the pregnancy, but her husband (who was a druggie) overruled her wishes. My friend is raising the children as the druggie father abandoned them not too long after she died, and she loves her grandkids including the youngest, but I don't think she will ever get over losing her daughter. I don't know if the ultimate outcome would have been any different, but the point is that it was her decision and it was taken from her. Her husband's reason was the church's standpoint on abortion. Not that he ever actually attended church, but that was the reason he insisted on her continuing the pregnancy.
My family and his family believe even a fertilized egg has the same value as myself and that birth control pills/devices = abortions. And while Mr. EW would stand with me, I know both sides would be fighting tooth and nail for the fetus and would be hurling all sorts of emotional charged religious guilt trip stuff at us and it'll be hell. I'm getting it in hard concrete writing. Terrifies me not to.On 1/16/2019 at 8:16 PM, Lisafer said:
@EowynW sometimes people have that first baby and realize that popping babies out like a gumball machine isn't the best idea...so maybe your brother and sis in law will change their stance!
I hope so!
It kinda feels like Anna adopted Jordyn. She's always with her.
14 minutes ago, Palimpsest said:
He's a catch. A catch, I tell you!
So am I, you don’t see fundies clamoring after me!
(I kid...I kid...)
3 hours ago, smittykins said:
“Allow him to grow up as he leads”?
Umm, I would prefer that my husband already be grown up before we get married, thankyouverymuch, Kenny-boy.
I know, right? If I wanted to raise a child, I'd birth or adopt one, not marry one. Anyone who is an adult sharing a house with me better be an actual adult who pulls their weight and is an equal partner. If I feel the need to constantly feed and clean up after someone I'll get a cat.
2 hours ago, petrushka said:
I could not see her coupled up with Jesse Maxwell. I doubt Jesse could land a fundie princess like Allison.
Why not! His big bro landed that ultimate fundie princess Chelsy, after all. The lad could try.
Poor Jesse. We all dismiss him for his lack of hotness compared to John. I have a soft spot for him but my hopes of his doing a runner from Maxhell are dwindling.
Allison is probably one of the few single women (other than his sisters) he gets to meet under the age of 80. I'm sure he is pining after her. And don't forget he had the initiative to clean up the woodpile all by himself and owns a house debt-free.
He's a catch. A catch, I tell you!