I got one...a peanut butter and bacon shake from Sonics...hubba, hubba


It's A Dog's Life ~ Well, It Used To Be

There was an obituary for a dog
 in our local newspaper today.
Among those loved ones left behind,
 83 sons and daughters.


This Ain't Your Mama's Shake

We went to town today, me and the expectant mother, and we needed to make an extra stop while we were out. A stop for the baby. At Sonic. For the baby.

I love Sonic. I love the drive-in. I love the servers on roller skates. I love the happy hour 1/2 off drinks. I love the hot dogs.

Good grief, I'm about to write about hot dogs. No, no, no. I'm not going to write about hot dogs or in particular this beauty I had for lunch.

Nope, not gonna do it.
Instead I'm gonna write about my dinner. Kale, parsley, red cabbage, turnip and cucumber juice.

No, no, no. I'm not gonna write about my dinner juice. No one cares that I drink this green go-go juice every day or that it happens to also look like the inside of leprechaun's gut.

No, I'm going back to Sonic.

Okay, that's better. I didn't actually drink one of these glorious shakes today, but if I had it would have been the peanut butter and bacon one. 

Oh. Mama.

Whoever came up with combining bacon with sweet stuff is a genius. Not your run-of-the-mill ordinary "I'm in the smart math class" genius. No, a genius on a whole other plane. One who thinks in equations and theories. One who ponders the galaxies and quasars of deep space. One who allows the thought, "I wonder how bacon would taste covered in hot fudge?" to take root, grow and eventually blossom into the lunch order of a woman who has drank way too many cabbage juices.

Oh. Mama.

And don't you just love that shakes now have their own season? Something to look forward too, like the holiday season. Putting up shake decorations each summer. Grumbling that the shake season comes earlier and earlier every year. Getting all my last minute shake shopping done on Memorial day weekend.

Oh brother.


Conversations Around The Table ~ The Father's Day Edition

Today at lunch...on Father's day.

Me: "So, son, how are your canks?"
College gal: "What the heck are canks? Are you talking about cankles?"
Me: "No, I'm talking about his cankers sores. What in the world are 'cankles'. Some kind of bone thing?"
College gal: *sighing* "Cankles are swollen ankles. I told you that the last time we flew and your ankles swelled up. Why in the world are you calling his canker sores 'canks'?"
Me: "I don't know, it's just easier."
College gal: "How's that easier?"
Me: "I don't know, it just is."
College gal: "Well, what would happen if he had cankles at the same time he had canker sores? How would he know which one you were asking about?"
The Graduate: "You could just say, 'How are your upstairs canks?' And if I had cankles, you could say, 'How are your downstairs canks?' That would work."
The Graduate: "And my upstairs canks still hurt, by the way."


I Want A Cheeseburger For Breakfast

Cleaning out my crisper for a juice this morning...carrots, some gala apples, a piece of ginger root...and a turnip.

Sometimes I wish there was a vegetable that tasted like a doughnut. I bet you anything they did in the Garden.


Make Sure You Wear Sunscreen!

In addition to juicing every single vegetable in the county I can get my hands on, we've also started swimming at our local Y. This is meant as a way to exercise and also escape walking/running/biking outside since the temperature is now equal to any Tuesday on the surface of the sun.

It's hot outside.
Growing up I spent a lot of time in the water. We were blessed to live close to the beach, and our neighborhood had a community pool. I was in the water constantly during the summer and I was a pretty decent swimmer.

But I was 11 years old then. Now I'm knocking on 50 and swimming has changed a lot for me in the last 36 years.

I used to be able to do this:

And I used to wear this:

Now I dog-paddle, have ear plugs and wear one of these:
 A wooden bathing suit from the 20's. 

I wear mine with a t-shirt over it.

It could always be worse I suppose. My nose could be coated with zinc oxide. And I could have plastic flowers on my bathing cap.


Loose Ends No. 1 Vol. 23

I haven't posted a "Loose Ends" in a long time, but here goes...

~~ We found out we're having a granddaughter this week. Her name is going to be Olive June. Typing those 9 sweet little letters makes me smile. And tear up.

Listening to "Landslide" 6 times in a row isn't helping.

~~ Last year we started watching "The Walking Dead" online, and I hate gory stuff. In the last couple of weeks I've read two books about zombies, and I hate gory stuff. We're planning on going to see "World War Z" when it comes out, and I hate gory stuff.

Go figure. I guess I like gory stuff.

~~ Check out Jen Hatmaker's blog. I spent most of the evening reading her posts and fell in love.

~~  I wanted to change up my devotional and a friend recommended Sarah Young's "Jesus Calling" and I really like it. Written in the first person, it's a comforting and easy read, which I wanted right now in this season of my life.

~~ Oh Michael, how I miss you and Pam. And Jim. And Dwight. And staplers in yellow Jell-o.

~~ I've been juicing since Memorial Day weekend and I think my sense of smell and taste are coming back. Of course all I smell and taste are kale, carrots and red cabbage but at least it's something.

~~ College gal continues making plans to leave in July for her new campus apartment. I keep telling her she has until the first of August before classes start but for some reason she feels the need to get there a lot sooner. It could be the wailing that emits from the bottom of my tear-stained soul each time she mentions leaving.


C'mon Monday

I'm beginning to think I may have gone over my "extra" points this week. 

And I'm blaming these.

That is all.


I Really Like It!

Guess what we're having in November? Yes, turkey and stuffing. Besides that.

What we're having this November is a whole lot better than turkey and stuffing! A whole lotta lot better! So much more better than all the turkeys and stuffing in the whole wide world!

Our first grandchild!

Our daughter and son-in-law are expecting their first child in late fall and we're all very excited!

Since we heard the news, one of the things we've been talking a lot about is what Mark and I want to be called as grandparents. Mark's was a little tough. He couldn't decide what he wanted to be called so we googled grandpa names and came up with a list for him to choose one.

The choices included:
and Slick.
So help me, Slick.

He even considered going by what Donald Trump's grandchildren apparently call him, "Mr. Trump". I don't think Mark looks like a "Mr. Trump". After a few days pondering the list, he finally decided on the traditional "Papa" which really suits him.

When it came to my name however, there was no need for a internet search or list making. I've known what I've wanted to be called by my grandchildren for a long time. But there's a teeny tiny wrinkle with my name choice, the expectant mother doesn't like it. And when I say "doesn't like it" I mean she can't stand it. A lotta lot. So much so that there is head-shaking and eye-rolling when I mention it.

The name has kinda become like Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort around here,
Or in my case,
"Don't-call-yourself-'that name'-in-the-presence-of-the-expectant-mother".

But I have a few more months to weasel work the name into her vocabulary. And maybe, just maybe she'll grow to like it.

So for now, this is Bubbie signing off!


I Tried, Really I Did

A funny thing has happened to me since I started juicing a couple of weeks ago.

I can think again.

A fast food fog has lifted from my mind and I suddenly have some clarity. And one thing this sudden clarity has revealed to me is that I'm a little obsessed with hot dogs.

I've included hot dogs in no less than 3 posts in the last few months. My epic tribute to my hot doggery love occurred in this post from June 2012. I've posted about hot dogs on other blogs. I've scrolled through my children's Instagrams accounts, trying to find pictures of the gourmet hot dogs we ate at HD1 in Atlanta last January. A couple of weeks ago, I lamented to any one who would listen (okay, just my husband) that the buns I bought for the holiday weekend fell apart when I opened them (whhaattt are we gonna doooo? the buns are falling apppaarrtt!!).

I realize now it has probably been a little much. I guess I should start looking for another food item to replace my beloved hot dogs. Probably a really super healthy food. Maybe something like parsnips, or beets. Yes, it's might be time to grow up and move on.

Okay, it's been 8 minutes, haven't found anything to replace hot dogs, guess I'll have to stick with them.

A simple shopping story...

Her cart was dripping. The grocery cart she was pushing around the produce section of the big box store I had just entered was drippin...