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    The roof, the roof is on fire

    March 14, 2007

    So guess what? Being distracted while you are trying to steam asparagus will most likely cause you to forget that you were cooking at all and your lovely beautiful asparagus will burn burn burn once all the water under the steamer gets steamed away. My actual thought process once I came back into the kitchen– “Hmm…oh riiight– I was cooking. Where’s that burned smell coming from? Why is it coming from the pot of steamed asparagus? Wha? HUH? WHY IS THERE SMOKE COMING FROM THE POT OF STEAMED ASPARAGUS?” Lesson learned–burned steamed asparagus will stink up the place awful quickly.

    Also–Owen snaps to attention pretty quickly when the smoke alarm goes off too.

    Luckily we’ve had a few really nice days so I’ve been able to leave the doors open to air the place out without freezing us out. I’m happy to report that as of today it no longer smells like a delightful combo of burning trash and/or really burnt popcorn in my house.

    We finally found someone to come and till the area that is going to be our little garden. I’m starting all the little seeds this weekend so that hopefully we’ll be ready to fill the garden up with little plants in about six weeks. You know, until the wild rabbits decide that I’ve planted a bunch of snacks for them and they destroy it all. The eternal optimist–that’s me.

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    Pet my monkey

    November 6, 2006

    After seeing the cute hamster(?) that Mrs. Kennedy adopted, I had to have my own pet too.

    So on the right column, you’ll see my new simian buddy, Chunk McMonk. He doesn’t fit exactly right, but I don’t have time to fix the margins right now. If you press on the partially hidden ‘more’ button, you can feed him a banana.

    I picked the monkey because that is what we call Owen around our house. He kind of looks like those little monkeys you see clinging to their mammas for dear life, especially now that most of the hair on the sides of his head has really thinned out, leaving a mohawk-like patch through the middle (just like a little orangutan). Except our little monkey tends to drool alot too. So I guess my little monkey at home would be a rather moist little Chunk McMonk.

    So please, pet my monkey, love him, love the monkey (Mike Myers on SNL circa early 90’s?!!!)

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    Correspondence for the birds

    October 24, 2006

    Dear foul fowl friends-

    Just a friendly letter to inquire as to why you find it absolutely necessary to perch on the power lines above my car only and see how many times you can play ‘hit the target’ (the target being my car) in a day. I wouldn’t be so upset, except that my husband parks in the same area as I do and you guys only seem to hit his car by accident.

    Furthermore, what you leave on my car looks especially gross–like you ate the green hairy lunch meat from the back of the fridge and then decided to leave the bad end result all over my windshield. I wasn’t even aware that birds could produce that shade of yellow/green.

    If you could see to ceasing and desisting on my car and instead use the neighbor’s car for your target practice (its red and such a better canvas for your ‘art’), I would really appreciate it and willing to make it worth your while. Peanut Butter Suet shaped bell anyone?

    Thanks in advance,

    Trena

    PS: Aren’t you supposed to fly South for the winter or something? Here’s an update: 32 degrees means it isn’t summertime anymore.