I will try harder to be more helpful.

I love Google analytics. Not only can I see which of my posts have been most popular and which make you turn and run screaming, I can also see what Google search phrases take people to my blog. Apparently, a whole lot of peeps are searching for Jamie Oliver's gumbo (and so I hope my version didn't disappoint). Also, people (yes, more than one) wander over to Yum after searching

I dropped a knife on my foot

Well, then. I mean, we all need ways to distract ourselves while waiting for the ambulance to show up. Dinner planning would probably be on my list, too. So I hope I was able to help. And that you got to keep all your toes.

XXO.

Two things. Well, kinda three. Plus.

One.
For all you Kern County kids that read, I'd like to ask a favor: Don't request "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake." Just made my infinitely slow way through "Love in the Time of Cholera," and now have only three days to read the entire book. If no one wants it, I can renew. Otherwise, I pay a fee. And I don't do late fees...it's the #1 reason I switched from Blockbuster to Netflix. I tried to read it all today, but before I started, vacuuming, freelance jobs, room re-organizing, cooking, and general time wasting happened...Instead, I'm on pg. 11.

Two.
I'm not above shameless self promotion. If any of you live in town or are visiting/passing through Bakersfield and need a bit of, um, tidying up, call my girl Leah. You will not regret it. www.brazilianwaxboutique.com
Yes, I designed her site. And am a client. Web is not my first talent, but I can make it happen. But no lie, she's amazing. Call her. And if you need design stuff-brochures, cards, ads, web, call me. Message me or comment me for rates/info.

Three.
Do you guys listen to Ingrid Michaelson? If not...if you're a Grey's Anatomy fan, change your answer right now. She pretty much dominates their soundtrack. Look her up. You won't regret it. (She's kept me company all night tonight, as she does about 3 days a week at work). Chill, honest, sweet, fun. Love her.

Three.2

Ah, progress.

Possibly the best dinner ever.

I spent the afternoon today (and last night, thanks again for the fabulous dinner, etc!) at the formerly-known-as-the-new-parents' home, prepping for and enjoying Mrs. A's baby shower. I think we (mostly she, look at those raspberry pastries and spinach dip!) did good...


Our favors, hot cocoa mix:


Sangria is always a hit:


The now-experienced mama and the mama-to-be, measuring her tummy:


Annnyway, now I'm spent. And since hubby is out representing the Condors' opening night, I get to spend the evening watching Dexter and enjoying whatever quiet time Greta and Ramona allow me. Thank you, Trader Joes, for making dinner easy.


That's right...caprese salad, bread and olive oil/balsamic, and a dirty. The only thing that could beat this would be crab legs and lobster. But I'm not about to push it.

Oh, and we got a new back door. Swoon. Matching front door tomorrow!!


-posted out of good-dayness from my iPhone.

An equation.

If: The number of felines in your home is ≤ the number of humans,
Then: Worry not, you just appreciate pets.

If: The number of felines in your home is > the number of humans,
Then: You are a crazy cat person.

It's simple math, y'all.

And thhaaaat said...


Meet Ramona.
We do know about Ramona, do we not? (She's a pest). And she likes laundry.


And sleeping.


And posing.

So, yes. We are now a multiple cat home. But we saved her from certain cat death-my baby sis called last week needing a permanent home for a cat she had to foster last minute...long story short, Greta (KittyH) is not super happy with us.

It's like playing I-Spy.

And Ramona loves her. And wants to play.all.the.time. So far, we've graduated to mild toleration. With some guttural tiger noises from KH anytime KH2 gets a bit too close. Or tackles her...or attempts to pounce...or something equally obnoxious. But Geezus. Her cry is like none other. We put her in the room whenever she starts stalking KH:

And 2 minutes later, we start hearing the wail of death. It's the strangest, longest cry I've ever heard...it's been fun.

Sigh. This post has reached ridiculous levels. My apologies. I'll post dinner next, I promise.

Crazy cat lady, party of one.

This collection has two names
(hubby and I each had good arguments, so it's a draw):
look how cute my cat is and look how lame my wife is. Whatever. I was bored.











She really doesn't do much other than this save for about a half hour of playing a day. Well, and she eats. Which means she gets along just fine around here.

-posted out of laziness from my iPhone.

Plus there's no a/c out there.

There are things you learn when you're living in a house that you don't have to deal with when you live in an apartment. Even though we don't own the house, being a family-owned home, we definitely feel responsible for at least minor upkeep. Cooler hose breaks? Hubby's up on the roof replacing it. Bugs in the grass? We're on a first name basis with our exterminator.

Luckily, we have a gardener, but we still find ourselves outside trimming and planting and weed-pulling. Well, I find myself planting. The rest are Blue Jobs; I just supervise. And honestly, having a back yard has always been something hubby has been looking forward to...something to make his own, tend to, all that business. Which is why it's funny and a bit surprising to see his annoyance building lately. I think he learned his limits this weekend, however...

He came in, soaking wet with sweat, cursing at the ants overtaking the bougainvillea plant.
Hubby: As much as I hate to admit it, I think I'm over the backyard. I'm learning I don't like outside that much...
Pammy: Aww, honey...really?
Hubby: Outdoors is for wild animals. I'm not a wild animal. I'm domesticated, damnit.

I don't know if it was the quip or the fact that I was just given another excuse to hate camping, but I think he nailed it. Awesome.