Tuesday, August 11, 2009

June Cleaver

Built By Wendy dress: $92.50

Built by Bek dress: $9.68
Granted, I still like the top one better, but now that I figured out the basics, I can try to make one that looks more like Wendy's. In the meantime, I'm going to find a red belt and June Cleaver my way around Pensacola.

Dear Husband and In-laws, I love my sewing machine.

He Grows

The breeder sends us picture updates and, seeing as we are obsessed, I will share occasional updates in picture form until the little guy lives here. Also, note that his name is in the process of being changed. It seems that "John Henry" was being held for our future nephew. When the fat little puppy has his official name, I will announce it.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Monday, August 3, 2009

My Husband Makes Really Strong Coffee

Which explain why I'm *SO* excitable this morning.
But for those of you who enjoy saving money, and especially those of you who have access to a commissary, check out this coupon. It's for Naked juice smoothie things, which I love. They're just fruit. No preservatives or anything and the bottles are made from recycled materials. The commissary often has these for $1.87, which is already significantly below the regular $3 each. With this coupon, I get them for 87 cents. Which is exciting normally, but VERY VERY EXCITING when I've had husband-made coffee. The best part is that it's a pdf coupon, so you can print as many as you want. WOOT!

So print a ton of them and be healthy AND thrifty.


Also, check out what I'm working on for a friend's baby... you don't have to like it, because I think it's adorable enough for the both of us. I don't usually get obsessed with things I make, but the peanut outfit is an exception.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Quarter Italian Confessions

This is a little bit hard for me to admit, but, when I'm hungry and Jon is flying or not home, I just make myself pasta and add sauce... from a jar. And I do this at least every three days or so. And I never get sick of it and I never feel guilty *enough* to make something healthy. And the last couple of weeks when I've been on steroids (over now!), I ate almost a half a box of pasta a day.

I'm only a quarter Italian. So here are the parts of me where that 25% is manifest: My nose and my stomach.

*sigh*

Friday, July 31, 2009

Oh Yeah! Oh No! Okay.

Meet John Henry. He is a couple weeks old and currently lives in Pennsylvania. But in September, he's moving. To Pensacola.

For almost two years our puppy policy has been:

Me: Can we pleeeeeeeeeeeease get a puppy?
The Hus: It's not the right time. We need a fenced-in yard. Puppies tie you down. We'll get a puppy later.
Me: *mope*

The other day, seemingly out of the blue, the Hus says, "Maybe we should get a puppy." I laughed and agreed. But then he was serious. I very heartily agreed and offered a backrub. We looked online. Two days later, we put a deposit down on John Henry, our little yellow lab from Pennsylvania. We bribed my sister to pick him up (it takes shockingly little to bribe people to pick up puppies) and bring him to Charleston. I will drive up and meet her and our little John Henry, whom the Hus will call Hank.

But here's the funny thing about how the Hus and I make decisions. It's goes like this: Oh Yeah! Oh no! Okay.

Oh Yeah: We get the idea into our heads, usually an idea we've been non-verbally mulling over for at least 6 months. Then, seemingly all of the sudden, the mulling of the Hus comes to an end (my mulling takes 6 hours, his takes at least 6 months) and we say, essentially, "Oh.. this would be a good idea. Let's do this."

Oh No: Once we research the idea, the price and the inconveniences, the negatives growl at us and we cower and think about reconsidering, "Oh no!" we say, "We just received a high credit card bill. Are we ready for a puppy/baby/cathode ray television?"

Okay: Having gone through the obligatory cowering (it's very important to allow oneself to be scared by the upcoming decision, at least for an hour or two), we look at the situation logically and, all things having been considered, decide that, "Okay... this is a big decision, but we're quite ready to be responsible now."

Oh yeah. Oh no. Okay.

It's psychology.

This is precisely the way we decided to start trying to have kids (Which was a year ago. Uteruses do not always cooperate and apparently do not run on the same fast acting principles as do the Hus and I). This is the way we decided to get a new computer and this will be the way we decide to buy or not buy a house, buy new cars, and so on for the rest of our lives. Although I hope we never have to decide on nursing homes this way, since I plan to never BE in a nursing home, unless accompanied, not only by the Hus, but all of our lifelong friends, so we can have wheelchair races and tease eachother's grandchildren and pretend to be senile.

I say that to say this: Introducing, Mr. John Henry. I can't wait for September 5th.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

One Time in a Helicopter

The Hus relayed the following story to me the other day, and I am retelling it using words that I understand.

So the Hus and the Dan (the Hus' flight partner) were flying the other day. The instructor usually turns the communication frequency to a certain channel, which happens to be an AM radio channel, which is only important because it is possible to click over to listen to AM radio stations on the individual pilot's headset while flying. This particular time, it was tuned to an alternate frequency. The Hus and the Dan debated for a while whether to ask him about it or not (one doesn't like to correct one's instructor, you see) and so when the instructor got in the 'copter again, the Dan casually said, "Uh, Sir.... did you want me to switch the frequency to (random number)?"
Whereupon the instructor replied, "No... leave it... it's Rush Limbaugh."

I love the military.