July 2 was a long time ago.
Exactly six months, actually.
Thank you for not giving up on me, you.
I would love to tell you that the next six months will have more witty writing time and less of everything that stands between me and my keyboard each day.
That will not be the case.
So I'll share this nugget:
This morning I had to say the words "My dear, gardens are not for peeing in."
I'll see you when the dance classes are ended, the wedding has been assembled, and the fall is on its way!
Friday, January 2, 2015
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Oh, Where... Oh, Where Can She Be?
I'm pleased to report that I'm not dead!
In fact, I'm quite the opposite. Fabulous things are happening in my wake!
Here are ten things that have happened since my last post:
- I have quit my job at the Home of the EngineerFriend
- I have begun new employment at the Outpost of the EngineerFriend (where the EngineerFriend is a minority, and is therefore easier to handle)
- I have booked a two week vacation for myself and Mister Amazingness, that the new job is willing to let me take
- I have booked an officiant, set a date and chosen (although not yet booked) a venue for the previously mentioned Formal Arrangements To Become Missus Amazingness
- I have spent two weeks with the Family of Amaziness, as they left only yesterday after their Forray to the Great North
- I have become a member of a local bellydance troupe
- I have bellydanced with that troupe in front of literally hundreds of people
- I have finished all my dance classes for the season, and am enjoying my first summer vacation since college
- I have undertaken a new adventure in dining to accommodate the changing health needs of Mister Amazingness and myself
- I have thought of literally dozens of blog posts, none of which have come to fruition because I've been doing all the things I just listed instead of writing.
And because you've been so patient, here's a little nugget of sunshine for me to share today:
The Young Master and I are home alone today, as Mister Amazingness has ventured forth in the name of gainful employment. He will return this evening, but until that time we're fending for ourselves.
This morning I was graciously allowed to sleep in until 7 before the desperate pleas for a potty run dragged me from my slumber. We have now - an hour later - done everything that a dog needs to do outside... drank coffee on the deck... played tug-of-war until the tug toy got too soggy to proceed**1... and now are lounging around the living room. But it's been *just* long enough since we've had any activity together that someone is getting antsy.
As I was writing out my ten-things-I've-done list for you, I noticed that the Young Master had invited himself to a party for one in our guest bathroom. This, I'm afraid, is not uncommon.
Whilst attending his party, I heard a telltale thump-thump-thump. This, also, is not uncommon. The Young Master enjoys jumping into the bathtub and chewing upon the faucet**2, and it makes an unmistakable sound.
Except that this was not the unmistakable thump-thump-thump of a dog tongue on a bathtub faucet. This was different.
Because I am not an idiot, I immediately went to investigate.
What I found was a dog who was staring pointedly at the toilet.
Now... toilet lids in our home are left in the down-and-very-down position always (unless there is a posterior involved). It helps keep dog tongues and items from the back of the toilet from swimming in the bowl. And until this very morning, the Young Master had accepted that situation.
But today, he decided that toilets warranted further investigation.
Figuring that there could be no harm in opening the lid to allow him a peek, I did just that.
He tried to lean over the front to get to the water.
He's too short.
He thought for a moment, and then proceeded to the side of the bowl.
He is still too short.
Having been denied access to the Magical Water In The Bowl twice, he proceeded as only the most intelligent dog would:
He looked at me, laid down like a perfect gentle-dog, and then pointed delicately to the toilet bowl to request that I deliver the water to him.
Shortly thereafter he abandoned the toilet in favor of the bathtub again, and I proceeded immediately to share this story with you.
Have a sunshiney day, ReaderFriend!
I've missed you.
**1 - Have you seen these? Felted Dog Toys! (Admittedly, I bought mine from a big box store. But I MUCH prefer to give my money to individuals... so this link is to an Etsy site where you can get a better quality item than I did.) I love them. Although they soak up slobber like nobody's business... and if the Young Master were more about eating the things that he destroyed, it would bind him up quicker than the time he ate a young pine tree... they're SO durable. And if the one I bought were actually knit instead of just felted, it would be nigh indestructable. I'm thinking I might even be able to convince myself to make some for him for his birthday... Columbus Day is far enough away that I could pull off a craft project... right? Right??
**2 Lest you go around thinking that I'm denying the Young Master access to fresh water... he has two water bowls. Legitimate water bowls that are always full for his partaking. He just prefers to jump into the bathtub because it's an exciting adventure. And sometimes there are bugs that crawl out of the drain**3, which are delicious.
**3 Ew.
In fact, I'm quite the opposite. Fabulous things are happening in my wake!
Here are ten things that have happened since my last post:
- I have quit my job at the Home of the EngineerFriend
- I have begun new employment at the Outpost of the EngineerFriend (where the EngineerFriend is a minority, and is therefore easier to handle)
- I have booked a two week vacation for myself and Mister Amazingness, that the new job is willing to let me take
- I have booked an officiant, set a date and chosen (although not yet booked) a venue for the previously mentioned Formal Arrangements To Become Missus Amazingness
- I have spent two weeks with the Family of Amaziness, as they left only yesterday after their Forray to the Great North
- I have become a member of a local bellydance troupe
- I have bellydanced with that troupe in front of literally hundreds of people
- I have finished all my dance classes for the season, and am enjoying my first summer vacation since college
- I have undertaken a new adventure in dining to accommodate the changing health needs of Mister Amazingness and myself
- I have thought of literally dozens of blog posts, none of which have come to fruition because I've been doing all the things I just listed instead of writing.
And because you've been so patient, here's a little nugget of sunshine for me to share today:
The Young Master and I are home alone today, as Mister Amazingness has ventured forth in the name of gainful employment. He will return this evening, but until that time we're fending for ourselves.
This morning I was graciously allowed to sleep in until 7 before the desperate pleas for a potty run dragged me from my slumber. We have now - an hour later - done everything that a dog needs to do outside... drank coffee on the deck... played tug-of-war until the tug toy got too soggy to proceed**1... and now are lounging around the living room. But it's been *just* long enough since we've had any activity together that someone is getting antsy.
As I was writing out my ten-things-I've-done list for you, I noticed that the Young Master had invited himself to a party for one in our guest bathroom. This, I'm afraid, is not uncommon.
Whilst attending his party, I heard a telltale thump-thump-thump. This, also, is not uncommon. The Young Master enjoys jumping into the bathtub and chewing upon the faucet**2, and it makes an unmistakable sound.
Except that this was not the unmistakable thump-thump-thump of a dog tongue on a bathtub faucet. This was different.
Because I am not an idiot, I immediately went to investigate.
What I found was a dog who was staring pointedly at the toilet.
Now... toilet lids in our home are left in the down-and-very-down position always (unless there is a posterior involved). It helps keep dog tongues and items from the back of the toilet from swimming in the bowl. And until this very morning, the Young Master had accepted that situation.
But today, he decided that toilets warranted further investigation.
Figuring that there could be no harm in opening the lid to allow him a peek, I did just that.
He tried to lean over the front to get to the water.
He's too short.
He thought for a moment, and then proceeded to the side of the bowl.
He is still too short.
Having been denied access to the Magical Water In The Bowl twice, he proceeded as only the most intelligent dog would:
He looked at me, laid down like a perfect gentle-dog, and then pointed delicately to the toilet bowl to request that I deliver the water to him.
Shortly thereafter he abandoned the toilet in favor of the bathtub again, and I proceeded immediately to share this story with you.
Have a sunshiney day, ReaderFriend!
I've missed you.
**1 - Have you seen these? Felted Dog Toys! (Admittedly, I bought mine from a big box store. But I MUCH prefer to give my money to individuals... so this link is to an Etsy site where you can get a better quality item than I did.) I love them. Although they soak up slobber like nobody's business... and if the Young Master were more about eating the things that he destroyed, it would bind him up quicker than the time he ate a young pine tree... they're SO durable. And if the one I bought were actually knit instead of just felted, it would be nigh indestructable. I'm thinking I might even be able to convince myself to make some for him for his birthday... Columbus Day is far enough away that I could pull off a craft project... right? Right??
**2 Lest you go around thinking that I'm denying the Young Master access to fresh water... he has two water bowls. Legitimate water bowls that are always full for his partaking. He just prefers to jump into the bathtub because it's an exciting adventure. And sometimes there are bugs that crawl out of the drain**3, which are delicious.
**3 Ew.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
By The Numbers
I did the math.
(It hurt my brain a little, but I did it!)
This is a graphic representation of my adult life, calculated from the day of my 18th birthday through this Friday, May 16 (a period of exactly 97 months):
The first month of being an adult, I was an unemployed college student. Easy peasy.
After exactly one month of unemployment, I began my internship at a local utility company for the summer. I spent seven months there. Again... super easy.
Then, halfway through December of that year (eight months after I turned 18), I got the job I have today.
I've changed positions within the company.
The company has changed around me.
But for 89 months I've called this my job.
(That's one month shy of seven-and-a-half years.)
And so, today... I announce that Friday May 16 will be the end of my tenure here.
It's exciting.
It's terrifying.
It's a lot of things, all at once.
And it's going to be an adventure.
(It hurt my brain a little, but I did it!)
This is a graphic representation of my adult life, calculated from the day of my 18th birthday through this Friday, May 16 (a period of exactly 97 months):
The first month of being an adult, I was an unemployed college student. Easy peasy.
After exactly one month of unemployment, I began my internship at a local utility company for the summer. I spent seven months there. Again... super easy.
Then, halfway through December of that year (eight months after I turned 18), I got the job I have today.
I've changed positions within the company.
The company has changed around me.
But for 89 months I've called this my job.
(That's one month shy of seven-and-a-half years.)
And so, today... I announce that Friday May 16 will be the end of my tenure here.
It's exciting.
It's terrifying.
It's a lot of things, all at once.
And it's going to be an adventure.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Grate-itudes
Lots of changes have been changing lately. And with all that's going crazy, it feels like it's time for me to take a second and appreciate everything that's solidly right in my world.
10. The undying optimism of my dog. Whether he's certain that today is the day he'll conquer the neighborhood squirrel, or that today is the day he'll get a second breakfast... his glass is always half full. I can learn a lot from that.
9. Organization. As long as I'm willing to accept its position in my life, it's a Godsend.
8. Travel mugs. When I can simultaneously drink my coffee and escort the Young Master on a poopedition, (poop-expedition), that's a win.
7. A working oven. Whether it's baking dessert, boiling dinner or just standing there holding up the spoon rest... it's there for me. And that's solid.
6. Dance. Sometimes it's good... sometimes it's not so good. But it's always movement, and that's always important.
5. Music. If I'm making it, or if I'm moving to it, or if it's just wafting around me... that's alright in my book.
4. Large bodies of water. Or appendages of water. Lakes... Rivers... Oceans... their lapping waves seem to wash my very soul of its insecurities.
3. My home. Mister Amazingness and I have a beautiful roof over our heads that we share with the aforementioned bundle of optimism. It's my haven, and I love it.
2. Mister Amazingness. Who, incidentally, has requested that I arrange myself as his Missus of Amazingness. Which makes me all the luckier, I think.
1. Love. Family and friends and even kind strangers throw love my way all the time. I'm a lucky girl.
Sunny's Top Ten Things She's Grateful For:
10. The undying optimism of my dog. Whether he's certain that today is the day he'll conquer the neighborhood squirrel, or that today is the day he'll get a second breakfast... his glass is always half full. I can learn a lot from that.
9. Organization. As long as I'm willing to accept its position in my life, it's a Godsend.
8. Travel mugs. When I can simultaneously drink my coffee and escort the Young Master on a poopedition, (poop-expedition), that's a win.
7. A working oven. Whether it's baking dessert, boiling dinner or just standing there holding up the spoon rest... it's there for me. And that's solid.
6. Dance. Sometimes it's good... sometimes it's not so good. But it's always movement, and that's always important.
5. Music. If I'm making it, or if I'm moving to it, or if it's just wafting around me... that's alright in my book.
4. Large bodies of water. Or appendages of water. Lakes... Rivers... Oceans... their lapping waves seem to wash my very soul of its insecurities.
3. My home. Mister Amazingness and I have a beautiful roof over our heads that we share with the aforementioned bundle of optimism. It's my haven, and I love it.
2. Mister Amazingness. Who, incidentally, has requested that I arrange myself as his Missus of Amazingness. Which makes me all the luckier, I think.
1. Love. Family and friends and even kind strangers throw love my way all the time. I'm a lucky girl.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Cookies
Lately Boyfriend of Amazingness and I have been frequenting the food and cooking stations of our cable feed. Originally it was because it was on, and we didn't know what else to watch, and we'd heard that Alton Brown guy was pretty funny. Now it's because we actively enjoy it, and the soothing sounds of cooking seem to help the Young Master not be a springtime spazoid.**1
Unfortunately there are some side effects of watching food preparation channels that I'm starting to see in my day-to-day life.
For instance, my pantry full of pasta now looks pathetic and boring.
Also, regular workaday food isn't nearly exciting enough. Everything must include vegetables and sauces and dirtying every bowl in the kitchen.
And finally, I'm starting to think I can actually cook.
This is what worries me most.
Partly this is because I'm making decent pie crusts and biscuits for the first time in my life. I have, thus far in my twenty-something years, never pulled off a successful pie crust or an edible biscuit. They're always rinse-and-reuse-able, likely because I beat them to death and then struggle to get them into their baking tins. But lately... I can make pie. I can make yummy biscuits. It's like I can't fail. I'm blaming it almost entirely upon my beautiful marble rolling pin that showed up at Christmastime, courtesy of Boyfriend of Amazingness.**2
Partly this is also through a series of happy accidents, like the one where I learned to properly slice an onion without bursting into chemically-induced tears. And the one where I found out we only had half a jar of pasta sauce left, so I stirred in half a jar of stewed tomatoes to stretch the sauce over the full pound of pasta I had cooked and felt so clever about my "quick thinking" that I had to call my mom.
Partly this is because of the food preparation networks, because one cannot watch hour after hour of mire poix-ing and roux-ing and general cookery without absorbing some of it.
No matter what's at fault, it's happening. I'm becoming an adequate cook.
And as I become adequate, my fear is coming to light:
That I will become A Food Snob.
It started innocently enough: A co-worker who doesn't cook bought a bag of insta-cookie-mix. Just add egg and oil, and Ta Da! Instantly (after baking), you have cookies.
Snobbism #1: I failed to see how practically ready-to-bake cookies fall into the "Cooking" category, and didn't understand when she approached me with the mix that she was insisting that I cook them for her.
Snobbism #2: When first I accepted the "challenge," I explained that I would have to put frosting on them if they were going to be edible at all. I just knew they were going to be gross.**3
Snobbism #3: After baking them, I decided that I couldn't put frosting on them, because that might have made them taste better than they really were and they needed to succeed or fail entirely upon their own merit.
Snobbism #4: After baking them, I felt like I had cheated on my kitchen so I had to whip up a batch of cookies from scratch to reset the cooking juju. I didn't want to offend the Powers That Bake, for fear that they take my pie crust and biscuit skills away again.
Snobbism #5: Upon bringing the insta-cookies into the office, I put them into an unlabeled container so that no one would know that I baked them.
Snobbism #5.1: I also told the non-baker that she needed to keep the cookies at her desk, and tell people she made them while I took the scratch cookies to my own desk. Instead, what she's doing is saying "Have one of the yummy cookies Sunny made!" Which I fear is tarnishing my reputation for cookie awesomeness.
It's all happening so fast. Tomorrow I probably won't even be able to bring in leftovers for lunch, but will instead need to bring in a hot plate and a chicken quarter and cook it right there at my desk with roasted veggies and rice or some such nonsense.
Even I won't be able to stand me.
**1 Spazoid (spaz-oid) - One who is a spaz, and is succeptible to unanticipate-able bouts of jubilation, excitement and joie-de-vivre simply because it is spring and one is alive.
**2 And here you thought he just locked in that title all willy-nilly. Pshaw and fiddlesticks - he earned that title right and proper by being my boyfriend, and by being amazing.
**3 Because they're root-beer flavored cookies from a box. Ew. EwEwEw.
Unfortunately there are some side effects of watching food preparation channels that I'm starting to see in my day-to-day life.
For instance, my pantry full of pasta now looks pathetic and boring.
Also, regular workaday food isn't nearly exciting enough. Everything must include vegetables and sauces and dirtying every bowl in the kitchen.
And finally, I'm starting to think I can actually cook.
This is what worries me most.
Partly this is because I'm making decent pie crusts and biscuits for the first time in my life. I have, thus far in my twenty-something years, never pulled off a successful pie crust or an edible biscuit. They're always rinse-and-reuse-able, likely because I beat them to death and then struggle to get them into their baking tins. But lately... I can make pie. I can make yummy biscuits. It's like I can't fail. I'm blaming it almost entirely upon my beautiful marble rolling pin that showed up at Christmastime, courtesy of Boyfriend of Amazingness.**2
Partly this is also through a series of happy accidents, like the one where I learned to properly slice an onion without bursting into chemically-induced tears. And the one where I found out we only had half a jar of pasta sauce left, so I stirred in half a jar of stewed tomatoes to stretch the sauce over the full pound of pasta I had cooked and felt so clever about my "quick thinking" that I had to call my mom.
Partly this is because of the food preparation networks, because one cannot watch hour after hour of mire poix-ing and roux-ing and general cookery without absorbing some of it.
No matter what's at fault, it's happening. I'm becoming an adequate cook.
And as I become adequate, my fear is coming to light:
That I will become A Food Snob.
It started innocently enough: A co-worker who doesn't cook bought a bag of insta-cookie-mix. Just add egg and oil, and Ta Da! Instantly (after baking), you have cookies.
Snobbism #1: I failed to see how practically ready-to-bake cookies fall into the "Cooking" category, and didn't understand when she approached me with the mix that she was insisting that I cook them for her.
Snobbism #2: When first I accepted the "challenge," I explained that I would have to put frosting on them if they were going to be edible at all. I just knew they were going to be gross.**3
Snobbism #3: After baking them, I decided that I couldn't put frosting on them, because that might have made them taste better than they really were and they needed to succeed or fail entirely upon their own merit.
Snobbism #4: After baking them, I felt like I had cheated on my kitchen so I had to whip up a batch of cookies from scratch to reset the cooking juju. I didn't want to offend the Powers That Bake, for fear that they take my pie crust and biscuit skills away again.
Snobbism #5: Upon bringing the insta-cookies into the office, I put them into an unlabeled container so that no one would know that I baked them.
Snobbism #5.1:
It's all happening so fast. Tomorrow I probably won't even be able to bring in leftovers for lunch, but will instead need to bring in a hot plate and a chicken quarter and cook it right there at my desk with roasted veggies and rice or some such nonsense.
Even I won't be able to stand me.
**1 Spazoid (spaz-oid) - One who is a spaz, and is succeptible to unanticipate-able bouts of jubilation, excitement and joie-de-vivre simply because it is spring and one is alive.
**2 And here you thought he just locked in that title all willy-nilly. Pshaw and fiddlesticks - he earned that title right and proper by being my boyfriend, and by being amazing.
**3 Because they're root-beer flavored cookies from a box. Ew. EwEwEw.
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