Picture Sunday

Hello, all my Sunday friends!

Welcome to what promises to be a very exciting Picture Sunday. Not for the pictures so much as the news of the weekend.

Left the house for B'burg at about 1:30 yesterday afternoon, and didn't arrive at Mr M's until about 5:30. Along the way I did what turned out to be some really really fun Christmas shopping. The family decided that since we'll be on the road but it would still be nice to have a present to open, that we'd exchange names. I got Taytie, which was pretty much a dream (and I can mention this because he doesn't read my blog), so I picked his up, got a little something for Mr M, a stocking stuffer or two - and then I picked up a little something for myself.

See, here's the story. I had some Sauerkraut Band money that was definitely not burning a hole in my pocket. I've been hanging onto it forever trying to decide how to spend it. I wanted to buy something for myself but kept thinking, "Nah, that's wasteful, I could spend it on better stuff, nyah nyah whine whine, etc." But I still wanted this thing. And last weekend I hit the 100 pounds lost mark and so I decided, hell, I need to do something for myself. And since my ears couldn't really fit in another piercing and I don't want a tattoo (two things that seem to be very popular as landmarks in the WLS world), I just thought I'd throw caution to the winds and buy myself a present. And here it is:



Yep, I got a new digital camera. It's a Canon A75, which is familiar to at least one of you, since the dishy Michelle has the same kind of camera. I'm still getting used to it, though, I've taken some pretty ragged pictures so far. But it's really cool, it has stuff the old one didn't have, and I look forward to a long friendship, as well as learning to use it correctly before I go on my trip.

Then I finally made it to Mr M's, where there was something of a gathering going on. Well, a small gathering. The lovely SB from Sauerkraut Band was over, and we were joined by the very lovely Kellie, of oboe and acro fame. And Ervin, Kellie's way too cute little boy. And wouldn't you know it, nice person that she is, Kellie came bearing gifts. Tell me now if this isn't the cutest thing you've ever seen:



Wow, that is just excellent, and is going right into my office tomorrow morning. You know, I thought he was adorable when I opened him, but when I sat him out tonight to take his picture, I'm even more in love with him. Because he's waving! "Hello, I'm Sprout!" Thanks, Kellie!

Today was the day of the first ever concert by that clarinet quartet whose name shall not be mentioned. That's because we still don't have one. We made light of this fact during the concert.

We played at a retirement village, for a small crowd, but they were very nice to us and kept telling us how wonderful we were. Which was a blatant lie, because we were pretty spotty. Not only did we have some squeaking problems, we had some entrance problems with certain songs, and to beat it all, we kept losing our music. I'm serious - we had sheets of music literally flying around the room. I tried to snag page 3 of "The Manatee Rag" out of the air, but failed, and it also fell to the floor.

Now, hot off the press, is yet another soundclip for those interested. This is a different tune than the ones posted last week.

Part IV of The Divertimento Thingie

Anyway, we got our trial by fire, no one died, we had a really nice dinner afterwards, and M's (that's M, not Mr M) mom was kind enough to take our picture for posterity's sake.



These people need a name. And some windclips.

And thus ended the weekend. Except for driving home in the cold cold wind, and arriving back in B'field to find a good dusting of snow, and more expected. Oh, I hope I hope I hope.

You know, when little boys and girls are good, at Christmas they go to bed with of visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads. What you may not know, however, is that really bad little boys and girls, and I mean we're talking the serious stinkers, the tantrum-throwers and the schoolyard bullies, they go to bed with dreams only of this week's recipe du jour - the food equivalent of a lump of coal, the dreaded Buckwheat Groats!



I mean, this is for little boys and girls who've committed murder. Arson. Genocide. Crimes against humanity. This is Santa's revenge for dog-kicking, pants-peeing, and public nose-picking.

This recipe is so bad that that it says, other than the groats, water, oil, (oily groats!) and onion, "3/4 cup diced cooked meat." Meat! They know you're not gonna fix this dish, they don't even specify what kind of fucking meat to put in it. And by the way, if this is under "Natural Foods," shouldn't it be forgoing the meat anyway?

The serving menu says the dinner should also include Waldorf salad, roast pork, buttered green beans, and poached peaches. But I'm warning you, bad little boys and girls, you pants-peers and dog-kickers: While Mom and Dad are having a nice slice of roast pork, you're getting nothing but a big bowl of Buckwheat Groats. With cooked meat on top.

Happy week. If that's possible now.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* I really want to hit 150 movies for the year. I'm currently at 146. Can I do it? Do I dare?
* I'm serious, guys, you'd better be good. Buckwheat Groats, man.