Picture Sunday

OK. Here we go.

It's Sunday again, yes it is, and I'm going to try for a stress-free Picture Sunday. And even if it's not stress-free, hopefully I'll still be able to work something together with Tuesday's tutorial from my web maven Stennie.

It was your normal Betland weekend, Friday Oktoberfest, Saturday Oktoberfest, and an attempt today at Mr M's to watch a movie that consisted of two hours of people washing a rug. Well, I'm assuming. We only made it through about 45 minutes of the washing.

Since I haven't supplied you with many Oktoberfest pictures yet, and because I don't have a quote for you this week, I'm going to introduce you to a member of your esteemed Sauerkraut Band. That would be the lovely, the happy, the vivacious Sara Beth. Sara Beth plays the trumpet. She's the only girl trumpeter, which believe me folks, is a pretty precarious position to find oneself in.

Anyway, Sara Beth came up with probably the finest Sauerkraut Band idea since the invention of the tuba. As you all have heard me mention from time to time, our trumpet players occasionally have been known to, well, how should I say this.... Stink? Yes, stink is a good word. They apparently have no qualms whatsoever about their bodily functions, and in fact, take quite a bit of pride in them.

So Friday Sara Beth showed up with her own personal bottle of Renuzit Citrus Freshener. And she wielded it better than James Bond wields his pistol. In fact, while the world's making such a big deal of the new blonde James Bond, we here on the mountain have our very own redheaded Bond.

In the last one, she's shooting her bottle of citrus delight at an imaginary offending trumpet. Oh, if only they were all imaginary....

My next picture is just amazing. I mean, that it was even taken.

As you may or may not know, my dear nephew Taytie runs cross-country. I think I mentioned the time last season where he heard some interesting sounds behind him during a meet and looked around to find himself being chased by a bunch of wild horses. (You thought I was going to say "a bunch of trumpet players," didn't you?)

Well, this past week, on that self-same course no less, as everyone waited for him to come out of the woods and to the finish line, he, well, he kind of didn't show up. Turns out he'd tripped over a hidden tree trunk and went ass over elbow. AND - if you don't believe me, he has proof!

Ouch. What presence of mind a parent had to snap that picture, I say. (Only ended up with bruised ribs, btw. And a uniform full of burrs.)

And now to another physical disaster, the recipe du jour. Now, when I hear the term I think of something much more sinister, but on the card here, they're cookies. I think. Say hello to Nature's Macaroons.

OK, so the cookies are nasty, we were expecting that. Anything with the term "nature" in it can't be very good anyway. And by the by, for future reference, anyone who offers me a cookie made with wheat germ and sesame seeds is going to get a punch flat in the face.

However, what upsets me on this card is that godawful elephant statue. What the hell is that? Is he made of chocolate? Is he made of the same shit the cookies are made of? Is he made of clay, porcelain? Whatever he's made of, he looks like he's three sheets to the wind. That elephant's stoned, I tell you! I don't think I've ever seen anything so upsetting in the whole of my life.

The recipe for these cookies has a five dozen yield. Yeah, that'll last about, what, six years?

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:

* Oh, in case you're wondering, it wasn't stress-free. This Blogger picture thing is really bumming me out. Does anyone else use Blogger to upload pictures, and are they having the same trouble?

* Well, two of my three Hackensaw Boys CDs arrived on Saturday. And yes, I'm groovin'....