Sunset at Anglers Club

We boated with friends last night and as we came home this is the light
we had to guide us ..... what a memorable sight. Made me think of each
of you and wish you were here. Love from Y.M. and Hal and Lucy

Christmas Eve

Twas the Night Before Christmas and all through the Boat......

Milestone for the Day:Magoo Moves to the Big Table

Click on the picture to consider it in detail. Handwashing is recommended.

A Day to Note: Dec 12, 2007

Today, for over four hours, my kitchen was CLEAN...not even a dirty glass.

RIP Clean Kitchen

b. 10:30 AM

d. 3:15 PM

(Yes, to avoid dirtying a glass, I just drank my wine straight from the box.)

The 2007 East Texus Finger Licking Christmas MiracleAKA: Fatty Gets a Compliment

I found an outstanding recipe for oven-fried drumsticks online here. One small adjustment, cause as Bumpus says, I "can't ever leave a recipe alone": next time, I would leave out the tin foil and just soak the pans. I had one pan with no foil, and those drumsticks turned out really nice and crispy.

Since I am normally fond of the breastuses and get real snotty about eatting any other parts, for me to say this is good, it must be excellent. And when ground beef is 2.99 per pound and drumsticks are on sale for .99 per pound, this recipe is friggin damn fine.

When the boys even like it, well, then I have a miracle. From hence forth, it shall be called such.

Upon tasting them, they consulted and paid me the highest culinary compliments they could fathom.

Rufus: "Mama, you should be on Iron Chef!"
Boudreaux: "No, even better...Mama, you should work at Golden Coral!"

Here they go again ...

I U need sum more I gottum. Jes lemme no, can send one daily, weekly.

Road to the Cemetery

Brick Pond Road is very short, several houses along the way. When you come to the very end the pavement ends and you see this little path....just keep going ahead and up ahead where you see the sunshine spot, turn left and you are there. Matthew Watson dedicated this entrance in perpetuity forever so that Watsons could come and pay respects. Pretty neat !

Watson Cemetery, Brick Pond Road

This is the little cemetery, so pretty and very peaceful. Most of those buried there are Watsons but there are a few others. The man from the Library/Historical group told me that some were close friends and neighbors. Note to rock wall that surrounds it except for one little opening (upper right just before you get to the monument, so folks could come and go.

Watson Monument

Matthew Watson (1741-1801) and his wife Avis are both buried here in Barrington, he was the son of Matthew who lived to be 107. Matthew and Avis erected this monument to his parents after their deaths.

Through the woods ....

This is the path through the woods from the cemetery to Brick Pond. You get the most wonderful feeling of peace there - no noise, no traffic - and it really almost takes you back in time to when Matthew and Bethiah owned 2000-3000 acres of this property. Today it is a lovely neighborhood to one side of the pond and a green belt the rest of the way around the pond..........

Brick Pond

This is Brick Pond as it was the first week in October. The pond is a short distance from the cemetery, a really pretty little walk through the woods. The swans were happy to see me. The pond is much larger than it looks in this photo - it was formed when the brickmakers had used so much clay that the water seeped in and made this lovely spot.

Way Up Yonder in R.I.

Here B Yo Mama astandin by them 2 gravestones. These folks B my Ann-Cestors and they B yours too. These 2 stones is a garding the resting spot of Matthew Watson born in Ireland in 1696. He married Bethiah Reed in 1732/33 (not twice but just one of them dates) in Barrington. He lived to be 107, he died in 1803. Lived in parts of 3 centuries. He and his wife built a magnificient home with marble fireplaces, Dutch tiles and a woolen carpet made by Bethiah. They had the first wall paper in town. People came from far and near and it is said that men visitors would not come into the house but just stood in the doorway and admired the carpet, they were afraid they would get it dirty. My right hand is on the stone of Bethiah, Matthew is to my left.

Flat Stanley came and stayed

Jes I-magin Yo Mama's shock when a black boy in a black bikini kam to visit me and Mr Hal and Miss Lucy Poop Jones. This kid had yeller eyes and wanted to see what wuz a goin on over here in our Culture. We ain't got much culture but we do has lotsa water and boats around and Y.M guesses that is a kinda culture. We done showed him a good time. He was a standin in the bak door looking out and saw Lucy, she was huntin I-Guanas. Gits a cookie 4 ever one she chases N-2 the water. Big dog smart dog. Flat Stanley went home late last week and I B guessin he telling sum tales to them 2nd graders this week. Wishin I cud B a fly on the wall.............

Word for the Day:Deadant deadant deadantdeadantdeadantdeadant deadannnnnnnnnnt

The boys have taught Magoo to sing the them to the Pink Panther. Yes, the good old Henry Mancinni version. Except, instead of the deadant version, they sing, "Manuh Manuh Manuhmanuhmanuhmanuhmanuh Manuuuuuuuhhhhhh." I will try for video on this.

Fatty the Clown's Parenting Advice:Psycho is Scary

As Yo Mama Taught Me:
Act enthusiastic and you'll be enthusiastic!

Nothing and I mean nothing works in terms of disciplining Rufus. Timeouts don't work. A swat doesn't work. Removing privileges doesn't work. Yelling doesn't work. And in fact, I think that immunity is rubbing off on Boudreaux, too. It's like they have ganged up to prove that I am an old fraud who will scream and yell and stomp my feet at the drop of a hat. The sound and the fury...signifying nothing. I guess this is probably the truth. I don't ask Bumpus, because he will give me a lecture.

So last week, Rufus was practicing his endurance skills by repeatedly pushing my buttons over absolute trivia. He was fully, 110% succeeding in pushing me over the edge as at 6 PM. The bird was screeching, Magoo was crying, the cats were yowling, and I was having one of my 25-per day sneezing fits, wetting my pants a little with every ACHOOO. Whatever it was he asked, I do not remember. The important point is that he had pushed me so far beyond my limit that my head might have exploded right off of my shoulders just like a Roman candle on July 4th, with sparks shooting colored balls out of my neck. Something snapped, and instead of yelling (why compete with all the other decibels in the house?), I turned to him, put a huge fake grin on my face, looked straight at him but sort of unfocused my eyes, and answered him in a very fake, very cheery voice. I have since come to call it "The Psycho Clown Response."

This had an unexpected and drastic effect: Rufus froze in place. He STOPPED TALKING. He LOOKED FRIGHTENED. His BOTTOM LIP QUIVERED. He said "YES MA'AM to whatever it was I told him. And he quietly went about his business. MAGIC!

I took note.

Later that night, when he was making his 48th excuse for not going to bed, I tried it again, a very fake big smiling, sing-song voice, "Well, I see you're having trouble settling down for bed! We'll have to try going to bed an hour earlier tomorrow night to see if that can help." Again, deer...in...the...headlights. VICTORY!

The next day, it happened yet again. Only this time, he paused long enough, looking very somber, to say, "Ummmm Mom? Could you not look at me like that? It scares me."

I felt like Ed was at my door with a check. It continues to be effective. I suggest it to all harried mothers and fathers.

PS: It doesn't work on husbands.

Word for the Day: DAMMIT!

I have just noticed that when Magoo gets frustrated over not being able to reach, possess, lift, throw, or shred the item of her intense desire she yells a word that sounds suspiciously like DAMMIT!

This will be funny until kindergarten rolls around.

Fatty's Note to Self #1018

Lists are such a good thing. I like lists because they help me remember everything I forget due to my seasonal alzheimer's disorder and my situational ADD.

List of Items Not to Eat for Breakfast on the Day of Your Dentist Appointment:

1. Bar-B-Que Potato Chips

I'm sure I'll think of some other items to add to this list. Feel free to suggest your own.

Yo Mama Knew Just What I Needed...It VibratesAnd Bumpus Likes It, Too

This arrived unannounced on my doorstep yesterday in a gigantic poster tube, delivered by the usually-sweaty UPS man. Here's the sequence of events:

1. I saw the package was from Yo Mama.
2. I opened it and found just this--no packaging, no instructions.
3. I opened the "thing" and saw that it needed four double-D batteries.
4. I inserted the batteries and closed the lid.
5. It started vibrating.
6. I thought, "yes, she knew just what I needed...but did she have to get extra large?"

Then Bumpus got home and got very concerned. He wanted to know where he fit into the plan with my new item. He had the presence of mind to look through the bubble wrap that had gingerly protected my new friend. He found the instructions...for my "Electronic Ground Rodent Repeller." I will report on its effectiveness soon.

Needless to say, Bumpus was a tad disappointed at first, but now he is looking forward to some results.

Halloween: I Got Big Plans

About once per year, I have the mental stability to do something creative. Thankfully, that sometimes falls around Halloween, like it did this year. Currently residing at my house are two Jedi Knights, one Princess, and one wrinkly, green Jedi master.

Since the Princess still doesn't have a boatload of her own hair, I had to make her big ole honking swirly pigtail wraparounds yesterday. They are braided and then sewn onto a crocheted hat. All are made of very soft brown chenille yarn. Now I have three Jedi capes to make.

Princess Leigha Says "Gig Em"

Word for the Day: Cheese

Magoo is starting to talk, and I remember those sweet days with Boudreaux and Rufus when you could actually list the words they could say (because they couldn't say that many). So I thought I would record her new words for a while. Then, one day in the next few months, she will have what Fatty Jr. calls a "gold star day," and then suddenly, I will not be able to keep track of how many words she knows. Here's where we are as of today:

Palabras de la Magoozie:

Mama
Dad
Jack
Baby
Bob
"That" (sound like "dat!" and is accompanied by fierce pointing gestures)
Kitty (ki-ki)
Mammy
Bobbie (we don't know that this means yet)
Juice (dooce)
Yummer (nummer-nummer-nummer, thank you Yo Mama)

And the new word for today: "cheese" (sounds like dee).

Sidenote: Magoo also knows to nod for yes and shake her head for no. She is not yet screaming "no" back at me, but I will not be one bit surprised when that happens. She can also work the digital phone well enough to leave herself a message.

He Told Me the Elevator Door is HiddenBehind the Front of the Coke MachineAKA: RU May be Wilder than I Originally Knew

Boudreaux has a fourth grade daily journal this year. The teacher asks a question, and the little cherubs freewrite for 10 minutes.

Question for September 27:
"What do you think goes on in the teachers' lounge?"

Boudreaux's Response:
"I think that an elevator leads to the top of the school where the teachers tan. I think there is an indoor pool, a snack bar, a bowling lane, a skating rink, a baseball diamond, video games, a roller coaster, and a hot tub and a disco ball. So the teachers don't stay after school to grade our work, or erase the chalk board. They go to the teacher's lounge and dance in the hot tub and pool, or watch a movie on their plasma TV. So the teachers get to have fun while we do homework."

Photo for Aunt Choco Cookie Fiber Packet de la Lemone, Taken Yes-stir-dee

FUDGESICLE (and combover)!*

*yes, I had to google fudgesicle to figure out how to spell it.

Photo for Yo Mama, Taken This Day

Waving with her combover and her bag of cereal.

WHERE THE HELL HAVE I BEEN?

Things I have to come back and report, because tonight I am too sleepy to type:

1. PETA is after me.

2. There's stool in my way.

3. I made an ass out of myself, again, in public. This time to the tune of "Brick House."

4. The garden is bananas...and worms.

5. RU may be wilder than I first assumed.

6. We have a politician in the family.

7. My underwear are persistently inside out.

8. Halloween: I got BIG PLANS.

9. Rufus is budgeting my money.

10. What's that smear on my glasses?

11. Pork ribs work damn fine in the slo-cooker.

12. HEEEEEEEEERE CRABBY CRABBY!

AT&T Webmail

AT&T Webmail

I Blame the '80s

Rufus got his first grade reading placement test back today (the "Texas Primary Reading Inventory"). He is reading 152 words per minute.

Hello? Was I ever that good at reading or that smart? I might have been, but then I lived through the '80s and my brother introduced me to Crown and Coke at a young, young age...

Even now, if I am reading 1st grade material, I cannot read 152 words per minute.

Aunt ChocoFiberCookieSugarPacket: I Have Seen Our Future

And it is here.

Word for the Day

Hairy Vetch

Thank You Aunt ChocoFiberCookieSugarPackfor the Answer Me Jesus

I figgered this was as good a place as any to thank my sister for the belated birthday present. That's a link, so you can click on it if the spirit moves you.

Boudreaux has certainly taken to consulting with Jesus frequently. Yesterday morning, he apparently asked Jesus whether or not he might get to watch Star Wars Return of the Jedi later on that day. And apparently Jesus told him that it would be so, because when I asked Boudreaux and Rufus if they would like to watch a movie, Boudreaux replied "Well, of course, Jesus told me we would."

Because My Mem-ry Ain't Great...

I need to record this for posterior's sake.

We have a great family tradition of calling things by names other than those truly assigned to them. This all started with my blessed Yo Mama, who I remember called McDonalds "the Big Mac" ("Do you want to go to the Big Mac?") and who called poop "Chookie." Actually, this may harken back a generation even further, as the G-Woman 100 calls that place with the chicken sandwiches "Chick-a-fill." And of course, in good Texus style, naked is nekked.

Thankfully, I married into a family who does the same. Thus, my rabbit "Jordan" was called "Rex" and my precious Poo-Poo TuTu daughter will respond to "Goozie," "Magoo," "Sukie," and "Girlfriend." So in the spirit of my beloved sister, whose name continues to evolve with each visit to her home out there in Wild West Texus, I needed to record what we currently call her:

Aunt ChocoFiberCookieSugarPacket

Now I can look back, years from now, so that when we are calling her Aunt BuyMeSomeBeerAndSneakMeTheKeysToDadsCar, we can remember how it used to be in the olden days.

Viva Charro!

Today I caught Goozie dancing along with the rhythm of the washing machine aj-ee-tater.

Bumpus and Fatty Figger It Out

Bumpus to Fatty: "I've got a plan for something."

Fatty to Bumpus: "You always have a plan. What about my plans?"

B: "Honey, you are not a planner. A planner is someone who makes a plan and then sticks to it. You, on the other hand, make a plan and then don't do the plan because you are too busy moving on to plan something else."

F: "That's right. You might be a mere planner, but I have evolved past that. I am a visionary."

HA! TAKE THAT! :P

Photo(s) for Yo Mama

I've been posting a lot of Magoo photos, so here's a boy picture for you.

You didn't really think I could leave a picture of her out do you?

Garden, Phases II and III (Sprouts!)

The photo above was actually taken about two weeks ago, but I hadn't had time to post it yet. While I took the kids to a birthday party, he tilled in the compost and made the rows.

And then last weekend, we planted seeds. We checked on them Monday evening, and still no action. Then Tuesday, we forgot to check because we were busy with many hours of short-people-soccer. So this morning, I meandered out onto the front porch, where they were in bright light but not direct sun (!), and holy cow: we got sprouts!

In this tray are...

• sunflowers,
• carving pumkins,
• spaghetti squash,
• yellow squash,
• zucchini squash,
• purple hull peas,
• green beans,
• corn,
• canteloup,
• and something else that I can't remember.

We've got eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes already planted, and asparagus and artichokes on the way a little later. We are actually on time for a fall garden. Whew! Come on over, Aunt Choc, and brang yer Bean-o!

Yo Mama, by the time you come visit, we might have something to show off! Instead of Curves, we got Weeds.

Mu Tau Kappa: Magoo Tappa Kegger

This photo isn't of the actual moments I need to relate...this is Magoo doing other tricks with a cup, like holding it tight around her mouth and puffing her cheeks up with air. That said, I have to get on the permanent record that last night at soccer, Goozie stole an emply Gatoraid bottle from one of Boudreaux's friends and a styrofoam cup from another guy. She was then barrelling around the soccer fields--and yes, she has advanced from Frankenstein walking to barely controlled high speed forward movement--pretending to pour special sauce from the bottle into the cup and then chug it down...over and over and over again.

Aunt Choc, ring up those sisters in Austin! She be ready to attend in about 17 more years.

Wisdom of Rufus #806

Rufus to Fatty: "Who do we know that has cows?"

F: "Well, the Protectournamesbecauseweareinnocent family does."

R: "Do you think you could call them and ask them to let their cows out loose?"

F: "Well, that's dangerous for the cows and a lot of work to round them up, too."

R: "But they won't need to round them up."

F: "What are you talking about?"

R: "We need to let some cows out."

Fatty, who always takes the bait: "Why?"

R: "So we can party 'til the cows come home."

Negative Numbers: Check that One Off the List

Rufus had a birthday soire to attend last Sunday afternoon, including hors d'ourves, live entertainment, and a loverly Spiderman theme. The trip to the tete-a-tete took about 10 minutes. We have 2 miles of dirt road left to go, when Rufus announces:

"Well, I know about addition, subtraction, multiplication, and...what's that other one called?"

Boudreaux: "Division."

R: "So what's next? How about negative numbers? Ma, can yuh teach me about those?"

Fatty, who was very busy passing notes and skirting trouble in algebra or geometry or calculus or episcopals or whatever that class was way way back in the hazy days of hair bands and high school: "Uh, I think so."

R: "Well, I'm listening, to let's get started."

I do my best to explain what little I can remember. I can at least get through the addition and subtraction.

Half mile of dirt road left to go.

R: "Okay, I've got that down" (and I ask him a few +/- questions to confirm) "now let's move on to multiplication of negative numbers."

Quarter mile of dirt road to go.

I explain the basics (2 negatives multiplied = a positive, negative x positive = negative).

R: "Alright, hit me with a quiz." He passes through a few questions and gets them right.

One-tenth of a mile of dirt road to go.

R: "If we hurry, you can explain the division stuff now."

F: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" (that last's for about 1/10th of a mile)...."too late! We're here!" (Fatty singing the praises of the fates who let her arrive before having to admit that she really has very little idea about division and negative numbers...)

If they had told me to listen because I might have to explain it to my six year old on the way down a dirt road to an East Texus birthday party, then I might have paid better attention...

Quote of the Day:Every time I see a taco I think of Nick and cry.

Yes, I am watching Big Brother 8 and following it on Morty'sTV (they cut the lurkers out of the live feed updates, damn elitists!). That is a quote from cry baby Amber, and I thought it just captured so many of life's struggles so nicely...

Every time I see a taco, I think of my fat ass and cry.
Every time I see a taco, I think of Cat Crap and cry.
Every time I see a taco, I think of my grey hair and cry.

I could go on and on and on...

Yo Mama Into New World Counseling

Whole New World Jes Open Up 4 Yo Mama I has jes met new frient named Mort Fertile who B sittin by day 'n nite jes awaiting 4 Yo Mama to peruse his listings of things thet cud B a troubling My Personal Marriage 'n I be busy 2-day and 2-morrow runnin my list by him 'n specially a-hoping he got some good books I kan Haiku. His advertising sez FIX YOUR MARRIAGE 'n it be An Alternative To Counseling ... Get Free Advise Immediately. He keeping shop at: MarriageMax.com Hoping 2 C U There but he maybe real bussie with Yo Mama 4 a bit. P.S. Not sharin with The Kaptain yet

Nannie Hart McClinton

Here she is, the mother, grandmother,
great grandmother and great grandmother
of many. Sure does look young. The photo
must have been taken before marriage, I
only see one ring on her finger. Wish I'd
had the chance to know her ........

Nannie Hart McClinton Watson

This is a picture of Nannie Hart
McClinton that was taken, I believe,
after she married Harry George
Watson on 23 July 1905. The basis
for the belief is that it appears to me
she is wearing an engagement and
also a wedding ring.

DEDICATED TO MY SISTA - MY INSPIRATION AND MY IDOL......

The Rappin’ Ballad of Harry Potter

Harry’s got a scar in the middle of his head,
He got it ‘cause his parents were both killed dead.
He was the only one that avoided the spell,
And now his life is doomed to be a livin’ hell.

He lived with his aunt and his uncle and his cuz,
But they hated his guts cuz of what he wuz.
He crib was a closet and he was treated like a slave,
But he sucked up his tears and tried to behave.

He was rescued from the closet by a very hairy guy,
Who told him he was magic and taught him to fly.
Harry was told he was goin’ to a school,
To learn to work his magic – he was gonna be cool!

He boarded the train to Hogwarts and then,
Met some great kids who would be his new friends.
He arrived at school and had to wear a hat,
That told him which dorm he’s be livin’ at.

Harry and his friends started learning their stuff,
While putting up with bullies who could kinda’ be rough.
Harry learned to play a game where he had to catch a ball,
While riding his broom without takin’ a fall.

All this time a really bad dude
Was spying on Harry and plannin’ his moves.
This was the same guy who had killed Harry’s folks,
And left the scar on Harry which wasn’t no joke.

Harry discovered that he and this dude,
Would have to fight a battle to settle the feud.
Only one could survive and that was the bummer,
Would Harry be the winner or were his days now numbered?

The day finally came for the stand-off to happin’,
Harry was the winner and there was plenty of clappin’.
He never had to worry about that bad dude again,
He could live his life with his woman and his friends.

THE END

Nannie Hart McClinton and Jo Hart Murphy

This is a picture of Nannie Hart
McClinton and her best friend, Jo
Hart Murphy, daughter of Joseph
C. Hart and Nancy E. Duke. The
picture was carried by Papa Watson
in his watch fob as long as he lived,
along with the next picture which is
Nancy (Nannie) born in 1908.

Are You My Mother?

Nancy Estelle Watson, born November 28, 1906
wants to know which of the two ladies in the picture
together is her Mama. Please cast your votes......

Bumpus the Badgered Gets a Little Wisdom

Rufus has a way of badgering us about any given topic if we do not make the plans he wants in the time frame he demands. Tonight, he was trying to strong arm Bumpus into staying home, while Boudreaux and the girls went to a soccer game.

Rufus: "Mama, Daddy said he might stay home from the soccer game. If he stays home, can I stay with him?"

Bumpus, already a bit annoyed at the badgering that had herewith commenced: "I did not say that I might stay home! I said I would see, which is not the same thing as saying that I might. I was avoiding an answer to your question because I dId NoT WAnt TO deCIDE YET!"

[Editor's Note: that loverly capitalization pattern is intended to illustrate Bumpus's rising voice.]

Rufus: "Sound just like Yoda, you do."

Wisdom of Rufus #731

Referring to the fighting prowess of the litte green muppit on Star Wars, who was created when ET and Kermit the Frog had babies:

"Yoda's got mad, mad moves."

At This Point in My Existence, I Have No Life

I would just like to verify something you already knew, by writing it down for the sake of posterior: I have no life. I am at the point of my 100+ year romp through the wilderness where I have no time or energy for anything besides chores, work, making sure that the people under 35 in my home stay in one piece, occasionally reading, and watching Big Brother. That looks damned pitiful and, I am pretty sure if you look it up in the Urban Dictionary, is exactly the definition of "having no life." I almost had some hobbies once, but then we had a Goozie Magoo instead, so now I am back to the no life thing.

Someday I will have a life and I will want to remember these days...

We are home. We have THE BOOK.

Stooping Even Lower Than Spaghetti-os

Tonight for dinner Magoo had 1/2 cup of Marshmallow Fruit Loops soaked in milk, a dozen goldfish crackers, and a slab of Velveeeeeeeeeetah.

Fatty's Got Several Issues and the Big One is the Weather Man

Every day of my recent life, between 5 PM and 6 PM, several significant parts of the universe collide with the sort of life altering explosion that makes me run for the box of cheap wine:

• I look up from my computer (where I've been engrossed in trying to work for the past 8-10 hours) to see, horrified and feeling exactly like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, that it's happening again...


• Children start coming out of the wood work, yelling "I'm HONGRY! What's fer dinner? NO I DON'T WANT THAT!"


• Someone shorter than waist-level starts yanking on my clothes, usually screaming.


• Bumpus walks in from work, hoping against hope to find a happy Cleaver Clan waiting with no snot on their faces, skids in their shorts, or stench of cheap boxed whine on their breath.


• Katie Couric comes on the TV.


• I realize that I have no Martha Stewart-worthy meal prepared and no loverly tablescape to serve it on.


• I realize that I don't even have the ingredients available for the above.


• I look at the house, which seems to have been hit once again by the dual devastation of Hurricane Magoo and Hurricane Rufus while I was engrossed in my work.


• I suddenly need a nap.


• The weather man comes on TV.

The result is that I go from zero to bitchy in less than 1.27 seconds. And nothing tops that off with a bigger gulp of wine than the weather man. Now, I have nothing against our own particular weather man. It's ALL OF THEM. Why are they all so damned Katy Couricky perky? Is it because they are going to make guesses that might not come true and that 9 out of 10 times we're not going to like what they say any way? Willard Scott is the worst at being overly sir-up-ee, hippity happity doo. I'd like to stick a pencil up his nose.

What we need in this world is a "real life" weather man. How about "reality TV weather"? This person would come on looking slightly rumpled, no make up, possibly slurring due to cheap boxed wine. He would say things like "Hey you bunch of domps! It's hotter than hell outside! What the hell are you doing leaving your kids in the car?!?" or he might say, "I've seen more than my share of idiots driving 80 mph in the rain. If you mental midgets haven't looked outside yet, it's raining, so slow down!" Or how about "yep, it's rained almost 2 inches today, enough that your Fido's turd has floated into your neighbor's yard...now your neighbor has another reason to hate your sorry ass."

Then at least I would know it was a real person and not a Max Hedroom talking to me.

Do I sound a little annoyed? Just look at what time I posted this.

A Poem for My Sister

AUNT CHOC! AUNT CHOC!
Oh what do you do?
When yer pink feathered tutu
Is covered in poo?

Fatty Takes a Salad Break. It's Either That or Go to Choc's House for Some Fiber Pills

One thing that is GAR-AN-TEEEEEEED to get me to stop shovelling greasy, delicious food into my mouth is the thought of eating anything while wearing a bathing suit. If we were forced to eat nekked, we'd all be supermodels. So amidst my Harry Potter obsessing and my getting back to my beans-and-rice-in-a-bottle South Texas Mexican roots, the ladies formerly known as "play group" (makes them sound like a bunch of candy ass soccer moms but just put a trough of margaritas in front of them and watch what ensues) planned a pool side pot luck tomorrow. The thought of my jiggling at that fiesta sent me straight to the internet to look for a salad recipe. Here is what I found, from Cousin Tracy's blog.

Cranberry Pecan Couscous Salad in Lemon Dressing

Fatty's Four Word Food Review: HOLY CRAP IT'S GOOD!

This Made Me Laugh: "texas witness protection"

On our hit counter (didn't the Sopranos have one of them, too?), I like to look up what references lead people here to our comfy little corner of space. This one made me laugh: a Google search for "texas witness protection" comes up with one result, a blog entry from back in 2005. The one with the wet bulldog. That is before he became certifiably epileptic.

You have to use the parentheses or else it doesn't work. How many of anything only produce one search result on Google anymore? I mean, my lord on Ba'hi, a search for "great googly moogly" turns up 66,600 results. Typing in "rastafarian kitty" gets you at least three, and even "toenail phobia" gets you nine.

Does this mean I get some sort of award for creativity in B.S.?

I'm going to wait by my front door...Ed McMahon may be here any moment.

PS: "ed mcmahon" gets you 386,000 results. Now this reference makes it 386,001.

Shake Yo Booty, Girlfriend!

Check out the moves. She is a little camera shy and so stops the full-throttle boogie down when she sees me filming. Yo Mama: That is your loverly birthday baby electronic club music in the background.

For Yo Mama: We are READY for South Beach!

Hello? Aunt Choco-Fiber? Are you there?

Just wait until the real cell phone bills start rolling in...

Fatty is a Southern Mexican Belle, After All

Hang on to your cholesterol readings! Here's the next recipe, guaranteed to make your general practitioner shake his chubby little finger at you.

Eggs in Hell

I won't bore you with the details, but it is eggs poached in homemade ranchero sauce. The inspiration for it is on page 28 of THE BOOK referenced below. However, because I'm a good Southern Mexican girl, I laddled it over some grits rather than serving it with flour tortillas.

There are some vegetables in there somewhere...

The Fall Garden, Phase I

Apparently, Bumpus thinks I need more vegetables in my diet. So he agreed to break his back and help me dig a fall garden. Check out this monster:

We still need to add some compost. Then we can begin the heated arguments over what we will be planting. Rufus suggested a Money Tree.

Fatty's Food Endorsement: I Like Spaghetti-os.

And yes, I am embarrassed to admit it! I hadn't eaten them in about 20 years and would have told you that I found them to be pretty damned nasty, but Goozie threw one at me today, it landed on my lip, I ate it and decided it wasn't so bad after all.

That was Chef Boyardee spaghetti rings and meatballs. Only 222 calories for a 3/4 cup serving. Next time the hurricane heads this way, I'll forgo the oatmeal and stock up on CB and cheap wine instead!

Did U Ever C 1 of These?

Folks here call it a Nite Blooming Cirus, ugly
vines look like snakes or something. Blooms
only middle of the night, opens up more than
this but Yo Mama got tired of standing there
and thought U could jest M-magine it 4 UR
self. Each bloom only good for 1 night.

Yo Mama Got a New Obsession

My latest craving, kinda reminds me of how I feel about the dressing at Thanksgiving.
When it is hot I just add a little salt and butter and sit down for a feast, sorta like grits
or somthing. Then with the cold leftovers I add chopped onion, tomato, bell pepper,
celery or whatever be in the house and have a nice luncheonette. Best news is that
ain't no body else in the house (cept Lucy) that thinks it even smells good, and it DUZ
smell. Yum >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> not as good as Mesican Chow but sure
is a quick and easy Meal For One. Those who don't take to it eat cereal. :--))))))

Also good with a little gravy, warm, when you B having Lemon Pepper chicken or
Pork tenderloin. Nizest thing there is that I don't have to eat the pkg. Mac & Cheese.

Kaptain Had a Tantrum

Got PLENTY MAD at the VW people over his 2006 car. Dealership charged him $85 to change the oil and with the price of fuel going up up and away, he just said Shuck It. So last Sunday, lightening, rain, downpour, horrible traffic and all, we got lost and ended up in a memorable section of North Miami and he found this lovely Ko-re-ann edition. Told that salesman that he wanted to trade even, would not give him A DIME, NOT ONE DIME. So the poor guy figured and figured and figured and said all he needed was $1776 and it was OURS!. Kaptain told him again, NOT ONE DIME, so the poor devil figured and figured and figured and came back, all smiling....all they needed was $750. Kaptain said loud and clear, NOT ONE DIME. Some 6-7 hours later we were home and still had our last dime. It really is a winner, first vehicle he has had that I've said was "Our Car". THAT got his attention. In the photo we were parked in front of our friends home at Merritt Island, this is their front view, got another out the back.