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That Time I Failed at Life.

February 26, 2013 - Author: Amy

Remember that time that Kansas was under literal feet of snow when we were supposed to be moving out and I almost starved to death

The saga continues.

So there I was, home alone, minding my own business because like a genius I’d already cancelled the satellite and didn’t have anything to do BUT mind my business when I heard the sound of footsteps on the front porch.  I froze, half terrified it was a zombie, half hopeful it was Meals on Wheels.

I froze, because I knew I’d been spotted.  See?


And reality was so much worse than zombies.  It was a dude in a ski mask.  Legit.  Like that scene in Fargo.

But my momma raised a lady with manners, so like an idiot I answered the door.  He was actually very nice and apologetic about his appearance.

Masked stranger/likely murderer: “I know I must look like a monster, but wanted to offer to plow your driveway.”

Me: “NO!” ~slams door, runs away and hides under covers~

Where was my trusty sidekick/protector?  The people want to know.

trees 028Judas.

 Saturday was my poor husband’s birthday.  Before admitting that I had neither a gift or a card for him, I feel it necessary to remind you that I’d been snowed in for DAYS, almost starved, had a near-murdered experience, and also suffered from boredom due to lack of HGTV.

Somehow none of those things stopped my mom (that shower-upper) from making him his favorite treat – a sour cream raisin pie. 


Some of my favorite FB comments after sharing this picture: “Did your mom make him the sun?!”, “Do sour cream raisin pies normally glow in the dark?”, “He must be older than he looks because that pie is on FIAH!”.

To thank them for celebrating his birthday so sweetly, we kicked them out of their bedroom and moved into it.  Then D left for Texas for two weeks.  ~le weep~

Junior is bunking with me for the duration and nap time in the transition has proved… tricky.

nap What’s this?  Delicious mints grandma left on all our pillows?


Don’t mind if I do… 

nap3 I know mom almost starved to death this week, but let’s be honest, the last thing those hips need is chocolate.


The look of sweet victory.

D?  Lack of birthday festivities on my part in no way reflect my feelings towards you.  I still think you’re the bees knees and I’ve got some big impressive birthday plans in the cooker for when you get back – hopefully sans snow.  Miss you and love you!


Wifey of the Year

28 Comments - Categories: Critters, Home Building

It’s Nice to Be Nice

September 10, 2012 - Author: Amy

I have people in my life who are better to me than I am to them.  Who send sweet text messages just to see how my day is going, or funny pics that made them think of me.  Who come over during the first days of the move just to clean and move debris from the yard.  Who make me handmade bracelets and barbed wire crosses, just because.

And who are funny.

Me:  I’m going to steal a pic of you off FB for the blog – I promise it’s nice.

Angie: Sure, if you think it won’t scare off your followers.  I don’t want to be responsible for the collapse of your blogging empire.  (Do you note sarcasm?  I noted sarcasm.)

Me: They’ll probably be all, “Oh dang, who is that?  Imma stalk her now.”

Angie: Sweet!  I’ve been wanting a stalker for a long time.

If you know of any handsome, cowboy-types looking for someone to stalk full-time, applications can be sent directly through me.

Anyway, we had a lunch date at delicious Chipotle and I wanted to give her a little something, so I made her one of my dryer vent punkins.  Trying to think ahead, I left it in the car so she wouldn’t have to juggle it AND her giant burrito. 

Stupid Kansas.  Stupid, dumb sweltering September heat.  Stupid, idiot me for leaving a hot glued item in an oven of a car.

Me, wailing and shaking my fist at that snarky sun:  NOOOOOO!!!

Angie: It’s totally fine.  I can just glue it back together when I get home.  By the way, I brought you this…

And this…

And this…

All I could do was humbly hang my head in shame.  A buffalo, because buffalo.  A horseshoe to place above our door for good luck.  And a rake head for my wine glasses.

Just because. 

She handed me the rake head and I immediately dropped it on the ground.  That’s why they call me *Grace McSuavey.

*No one calls me that.

The moral of the story is this:  It’s nice to be nice. 

Because of Angie, and so many others in my life who are better to me than I am to them, (you know who you are) I want to be better.  More thoughtful.  More giving.  Nice for the sake of being nice.

Just because.

25 Comments - Categories: Family, Home Goods