Picture Sunday

Hello, blogees.

Well, after last week's blog, I felt like I owed it to my tens of readers to get my buns out and get some pictures of the big nativity scene in the town. And today I did just that.

Today was cold but sunny, and I got a few snaps.

Here's one of the whole shebang.

















Hey, have some hay there, Mr Donkey.

























(The picture doesn't do it much justice, but up close, that is one real-looking donkey. And he has one of those eyes that follow you while you walk around.)

Sadly, my sister isn't on his back, but here's the camel, flanked by a rather large sheep. Hell, they're all large.

























Here's the manger, and I'm telling you that wise man to the left is one tall fellow. Way over six feet.























And here, yes, here is our little buddy, right in the middle of it all.





















And pardon me for being so bold, but that is a d-o-g dog.

























And one intense little pooch, too. No one's escaping from this nativity scene anytime soon.

Oh. maybe that's it. He's a watchdog. No thefts, no vandalism at the manger this year!

Good boy.

Picture Sunday!

Hello, blogees! Hello, end of weekenders! Hello, all!

It's been forever! How are you all?

Let's try a little Picture Sunday!

Well, how the hell are you? I listened to the oddest opera in the world, and then -- well, silence. I promise, it wasn't the opera that silenced me, it was just life and laziness.

But after many completely benign weekends, I had a weekend that forced some pictures from the old - old? new! - camera, and so I thought I'd try to make a Picture Sunday.

Well, let's start at the beginning. I'd spent many days this past week wondering what in the hell I was going to do this weekend. Mainly because my boys, the Hackensaw Boys, were at my favorite venue, 123 Pleasant Street in Morgantown, WV, this weekend. I mean, how could I miss that?

Well, as it turned out, I could. The Dear Nephew couldn't make it, and my cousin Jacob couldn't make it, and as odd as it may seem, for some reason that made me realize I myself couldn't make it. I felt I could drive the five hours with someone, or could even drive the time if I was meeting up with someone, but driving by myself and going to the show by myself? Well, I guess times have changed and I have gotten old. I just couldn't fathom it. I said "no."

And I would have been more depressed than usual, but I had a back-up. Turns out that same Saturday night my second favorite live band, Southern Culture on the Skids, were in R'noke that same night! Mr M said he'd go with me, as did the cousin Jacob! I got tickets for the three of us, and we all made the trip.

Now, I have to tell you, though SCOTS are based out of North Carolina, Mary(bassist) and Dave (drummer) are actually based out of R'noke. So it was a bit of a homecoming for them, so the show was something of a festival.

The show was held at the Jeff Center, a very nicely remodeled theatre. We got there early, and got second row seats. However - we were told that the little wooden section in front of the seats was going to be reserved for dancers, so if we wanted to sit in our good seats, we'd be looking at peoples' butts.

And though I loved those seats, after the opening band I figured, "Hey, I don't want to look at local peoples' asses," and headed to the little dancing area. Luckily, cousin Jacob followed suit. (Mr M did not.) And after a wait but right on time, Southern Culture took the stage.

And they played their hearts out - it was a great show. I think I've mentioned it here before, but bassist Mary Huff (an R'noke native) is my heroine. She is cool beyond belief. She did all her greatest solo numbers. In blue wig and sunglasses to match!

















But the whole band tore it up all night.
























When it was all over, we headed back to the car. I thought it was just me, but found out soon enough it was me and cousin Jacob - there comes a time when you are just too old to dance for 2 1/2 hours non-stop. (Had I gone to the Hackensaws last night, I fear I would have been taken out of the venue on a stretcher!)

But we made it home. After an hour or so of hilarious conversations between Jacob, Mr M, and me that had us laughing till breathing was hard to do. I tell you, when you make each other laugh till you can't breathe anymore, that is a gift.

Then I woke up this morning.

I woke up this morning barely able to move from all the dancing the night before. But I drug myself up, got Milo out for a pee, got to Mr M's kitchen to make some coffee, and set about the business of waking up and getting ready to get back home today.

Then! Mr M got up.

As I was getting ready to go home, Mr M started telling me how I should take Milo by the dog park on my way back home. I wasn't so keen. I mean, the day before, the day of the concert, it rained so hard we couldn't even see a foot past our window. I had no idea what the dog park might look like today.

Well, Mr M was having none of that. "Who cares if there's mud? Who cares if it's dirty? If you're not prepared to have Milo get dirty, you have no right to have a dog!" he said.

Well, I was dubious, but you know, Milo did need a run, and it was sunny and fairly warm today, and so, oh, fuck it, I thought I'd take him to the dog park.

And Milo had a ball! There weren't a huge amount of dogs, but he found a Fox Terrier and a Yorkie he loved playing with, and there were even bigger dogs that all played with him, and all the dogs were having a great time.

For about 20 minutes. Then for some reason, Milo ran up a little mound by a tree, then tumbled, side-over-side, right - *plop* - into a mudhole. His entire right side was covered in wet mud.



















His tumble was magnificent, and my reaction was too. I screamed. And - the entire dog park crowd erupted in cheers and applause!

Well, upon seeing the reaction, Milo - Mr Entertainment - went right back up the hill, tumbled down again, and landed with his entire left side in the same mudhole!

















Thank God I keep a fitted sheet in my car. I had to put it over the passenger's seat to get Milo home.

When we got home, I loaded all my own luggage from the weekend into the house, then got him, led him into the house and to the bathroom, stripped down, stripped him of harness, leash, and collar, then we both got in the shower, where I wrangled with him for 20 minutes trying to get him clean.

Then I had to step back into my clothes and go to Walmart and walk every inch of it shopping.

It's one of those stories I said might be fun a year after it happens. But you know what? It's only a few hours out, and I'm already giggling.

I guess that's the Power of Milo.

Happy week.

(Moving) Picture Sunday

Had a nice weekend in B'burg. On Saturday and Sunday Mr M and I took Milo to the dog park. It was warm and full of happy dogs and people.

I put together a little footage.

Happy week.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders, and welcome to Picture Sunday.

Didn't travel this weekend. In fact, didn't leave the house Saturday. Cleaned and made a new crock pot recipe, Pork Chop Beans. This is one all of my friends rave about, so I was game. Mr M came down to join me.

Didn't get a picture, but it didn't really matter, because I didn't see what all the fuss was about. See, the pork chops are supposed to season the beans, but I thought it was all a rather bland concoction. I think Mr M liked them a little more than I did, but it was agreed all around they needed "something."

However, I did, for the first time ever, make cornbread, and it wasn't bad. Not as good as my mom's, to be sure, but hey, she's been doing it sixty years and this was just my first time.

So, Mr M and I had dinner and watch a couple of movies, one of which I'd already started before he got there and he was kind enough to let me finish. It was a lazy evening, and I was grateful.

Mr M had a request last night, though, before he left. Seems we found out Milo loves for Mr M to pick him up and carry him around. He requested a few pictures of him and "his" dog.

























I like the next one. Notice the look of admiration from Milo.

























Then today it was Paw Duty, getting him to all the stores, and I got home around 3:30 and decided to make up a big pot of stew I could eat on a while and freeze for later. Did the kielbasa stew with cabbagge that I tried a few weeks ago and liked so well.




















If you like kielbasa and cabbage, you'll like this one, and it's very easy. However, with those ingredients, as I was telling LilyG online today, there's enough gas in the pot to blow up your entire neighborhood, so be careful.

Then watched the football tonight with barely one eye, napped a bit, and thought about how in the hell I'm going to get three large full trash bags, each weighing about 30 pounds, out to the curb tomorrow morning.

Then I stopped thinking about that because it was too depressing.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* I'm getting mighty tired of Milo dragging me out in the single digit temperatures by giving me the "pee look," when all he really wants to do is bark at a rock.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders, and welcome to a rather small Picture Sunday.

Really only two things to say.

One, I got a very nice surprise in the mail Friday from Hucklebug podcast listeners ThePete and Siskita. They sent one to Stennie and to me, and oddly enough, we both got ours on the same day.

























It's a baby sock monkey! I think he's adorable. His name is Jackson, and although the Poderosa gang is pretty fond of him too, I think I'm taking him back to work with me tomorrow. He's just such a happy-looking fellow I think I'd like to have him there to cheer me up.

Thanks, ThePete and Siskita!

Two, I got a nice crock pot for Christmas from my friend, workmate, and mother figure San. I've been kind of wanting one for a long time, but never bought one because I honestly didn't know where I could find the space for one. Well, I'm going to have to find the space for one, and I got it out this afternoon and decided to try my first crock pot recipe. Lasagna.

I was dubious, I will admit, about the workings of the pot and the ingredients in my lasagna.

But I mixed everything in, turned the button to "low," and let the good times roll.

And proving wrong the old wives' tale that a watched pot never boils, because I checked on that pot every 20 minutes or so, in less than four hours I had a lasagna.

And it was very good!

Tasty, the special noodles I used cooked right up and weren't gummy like I'd feared, all the ingredients mixed together well, and I'm happy to say my first crock-pot experience was a good one.

And Jackson thought it was good, too!






















And that's about it for this weekend.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Had plans to give Milo a bath tonight. I'm losing the will as the minutes tick away.

Picture Sunday

Well, happy 2011 to you all, my blogees. And welcome to the first of what will hopefully be more than five or so Picture Sundays for the year.

As most of you know if you read the below blog, I had some distinct plans for New Year's Eve. The DeepFatFriar and I were attending a Murder Mystery Night. The hinkiness was starting to set in about the time I wrote about it.

And it all started off on quite the weird note.

DFF and I arrived at the Unitarian Church, where the event was being held. There was no electricity in the church, and in fact none in the whole neighborhood. The hosts of the event had done some checking, and were told it wouldn't be back on until about 9:30 that night. And so the whole party, including wine, dinner, dessert, suspects, props, and possibly victim, though I didn't personally see him myself, had to pack up and move elsewhere. The hosts asked if it would be OK to just do it at their apartment.

And so the Caravan of Murder took off to a different part of B'burg.

We began with wines and cheeses, and getting to know each other, though most people did except me, for I think they were all of the Unitarian persuasion and went to church together. They were all extremely nice and friendly folks. Then dinner and more conversation followed.

Then, my friends, it was time for the mystery to begin. And I immediately lost all hinkiness because, well, I don't know if this is stupid or not, but I had imagined this to be a thing where we were all like actors. You know, that we'd be up moving around, walking and talking like we were on Broadway.

Turns out, it wasn't like that at all. We sat around the table, just like we were playing any other game (and you know, I like games), and we were given our character booklets, secret clues, and the rules of the game.

And so the fun began. And it was fun, it was fun because these people suddenly became their characters. Accents were adopted, gestures, and before long we were cracking each other up. At the beginning of the game we were all given pads on which to write down clues, and I finally abandoned that completely, because I was just having so much fun watching everyone.

The "secret clues" were pieces of paper to be opened at various times by various characters, and were pieces of evidence that incriminated another member of the game. And every time one of those clues showed up, and someone found a way to work it in - "Oh, and speaking blackmail, maybe this would be of interest to everyone!" - with a clue being flung open.

So for three rounds and a couple of hours, we all pointed fingers at the others and defended ourselves as we tried to figure out who killed Barry Underwood, owner of the Underwood Wine Estates.

Could it have been Ralph Rottengrape, the victim's cousin and new owner of the winery? Or could it have been his wife, Tiny Bubbles, who uses her maiden name because she can't stand to be known as Tiny Rottengrape, who was also the victim's fiance at the time of his death?

























Perhaps it was Otto Von Schnapps, German wine merchant, who likes wine, women, and money? The latter a lot. But maybe it was Papa Vito, who came from Italy to the Underwood family 60 years ago with a root from his father's grape vine, and who has lived at the estate and worked it for years.

























But there's always Heddy Shablee, owner of the Shablee Vineyards, who was the victim's arch rival. Since his death, a series of unfortunate circumstances have come Heddy's way. And then, it could have been Marilyn Merlot, once queen of the Wine Festival who went on to become a movie star - and may have been the last person to see the victim alive. One thing's for sure. It wasn't Bud Wizer, the FBI agent who's on the case.
























Well, looks like I should have been taking those notes I quit taking, because when it came my time to guess the murderer, I was stumped, and in the end I fell for all the red herrings. In fact, only one person guessed the murderer - and got it for all the right reasons! And that person, and I doubt it will surprise anyone, was the DeepFatFriar himself! Or, shall I say, Herr Von Schnapps?

After it was over, we were served an absolutely fantastic homemade tiramisu by the hosts, had some more friendly conversation, then it was time for everyone to head back to reality. DFF had to get home, and I landed at Mr M's, where we watched the ball drop and I fell asleep not long after.

But it was fun, and I did something I'd never done before.

Oh, one of the partygoers liked my prop, a basket of Heddy's new vintage, and wanted a picture. And that's my secret clue telling everyone that I wasn't so much a vintner as a money laundress.
























So there you go. What's a little money laundering? At least I wasn't a murderer.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Oh, I guess I could tell you. It was Papa Vito.

Picture Sunday

Well, hello, you end of weekenders! End of holidayers, end of yearers, even. And welcome the final Picture Sunday of 2010.

Yep, it's been a while. Busy time, Christmas. Well, and that other problem. Remember? I broke my camera the last night of Oktoberfest this year. And even though Mr M loaned me his, I don't know, the pictures just weren't happening.

Well, lo and behold. A request from Santa, who's in really tight with my mom and dad, and I am the proud owner of a new camera. Been playing with it off and on today, and well, let's show you want it can do!






















It can take pictures of its own box! (That's something approaching a self-portrait.)

That present was opened Christmas morning with the family. We all gathered around 11 am, opened presents, hung out, then it was time to part for a bit before we'd all convene at the sister's for Christmas dinner.

Mr M came down and we had present time. And talk about your cool presents....




















A new Flip, in HD! And white! Can't wait to start using it. Comfy Chair Movie ideas, please!

Then on to the sister's in the driving snow, a nice dinner, and Mr M and I cut out a little early so he could start home in the elements, and I could get to my next event of Christmas Day.

See, my long-lost but newly-found (well not anymore, a year now) high school buddy The Daughter C was in for the holiday, as was our other high school buddy The Daughter O. I was to pick up Daughter C and we'd both head to the O house and have a nice visit.

The snow was still coming down hard and the roads were untouched, but I headed out to the old neighborhood, "Between the Bridges," as 2d Son C calls it. The fact that the roads hadn't been touched was actually an advantage, lots of snow for traction, and no one was on the road so there were no idiots to dodge.

Now, I saw Daughter C for the first time in years back in October. I'd not seen Daughter O for - well, I honestly don't know how long it'd been. I remember a short conversation with her when the nephew was a toddler. So let's estimate 20 years.

And it was great. There we were, all 32 years after high school, looking the same and different and picking up exactly where we left off. I mean, for however much our lives have all changed, we all sat there in the living room, the three of us, Mom O, and two dogs, and there was never a moment's silence in over three hours.

And we laughed. A lot.

Daughter O had brought her doggie, Walter, in for the trip, and I fell totally in love with him. And I think he liked me a bit too. He kept putting his paw on my arm. I was sure by the end of the evening he was going to ask me out on a date.

It was fun and cozy and familiar and new, and the perfect way to end a Christmas Day. But the hour got late and the snow was still falling, so Daughter C and I had to say our goodbyes, hopefully not for another 20 years. I dropped Daughter C off and when I did, she gave me a little something.

She stressed it wasn't a Christmas gift, probably knowing me well enough to know I'd be mortified to not have one for her in return. It was - and she prefaced this with, "Now, I don't really understand all the things with your stuffed animals," to which I laughed - but it was the brand new mascot of the Richmond, Virginia baseball team, the Flying Squirrels. Yes, it was Nutzy, the Flying Squirrel!




















Well, as you can see above, the kids just love him. And he does flying feats of derring-do for them in the living room. So he'll be here with us, at least till the baseball season gets into full swing. Sherman's offered to arrange a meeting between him and Rocky the Flying Squirrel, who of course Sherman is great friends with.

OK. And that was Christmas. Low-key, lazy, snowy, and nice. And you'd think that would be the end of the blog, right?

Well, you're wrong!

Today I'd decided to have a little celebration for myself. See, on Thanksgiving I ended up having two dinners at two different houses, and came home with not a single leftover goodie to my name. So earlier in the week I started toying with the idea of taking today and having my own little Christmas dinner.

Mr M was hoping to join me again today, but the snow was just too bad for a trip from B'burg. So it was just me and the gang at the little Poderosa Post-Christmas Dinner.

I started by putting a small turkey breast in the oven and got it nice and toasty.




















Then I made some sausage stuffing, hoping it would be as good as Mr M's.


















I forwent the mashed potatoes, I can have them with leftovers. Put them both on a plate, and I had me a real little Post-Christmas dinner!





















And it was really good! The turkey was moist with a crusty outside, the stuffing was almost as good as Mr M's, I curled up in the Comfy Chair and turned on the tree lights and the TV and ate my fill. Then as happens on these occasions, I took a little nap for about an hour.

Then in an amazing turn of events, I popped up post-nap, started getting the turkey off the bone, got everything cleaned up and put away, and even got Sunday trash duty done to the point of having the bags already out on the curb, anchored in the 8 or so inches of snow we have (and are still receiving).

And it was a good day. Now all that's left is to take the tree down, which I'll shoot for tomorrow night.

Happy week, and happy rest of 2010 if I don't post before.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Hope you all had a nice holiday as well. I've still got New Year's Eve coming up, which could be a real interesting story to tell.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders. Welcome to a special edition of Picture Sunday.

I got a most fortuitous email yesterday. It was from my old buddy the DeepFatFriar, offering to take over the Picture Sunday helm this weekend. He titled his email "An Offer You Can Refuse," but really, that is one I definitely could not refuse.

So let's turn it over to the Friar!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks, Bet, for letting me report on the big doin's in the little town I don't live in. (I live about 239 feet outside the town.)

The town I don't live in is not the biggest town in the county. There are only 1300 or so people in it. (The biggest town has over 4000, and the entire county about 17000 spread across about 350 square miles.) But it is widely acknowledged to have the best Christmas parade in the county. There are several reasons for this: it snowed during the Christmas parade, as is only fitting; it is a drive-in parade--you can watch it from inside your car; they throw candy from the floats and vehicles, so it is like hollowe'en, only different; and it was, this year, seventeen minutes long--brevity really is the soul of paradical wit. And it's better than the Macy's parade in every way.

And I want to apologize for the quality of the pictures. It was dusk and snowing. The little camera did the best it could. It really did.

So here is the parade route, lined with the cars you can watch it from. One of them is mine.




















As you can see, there are a lot of cars there. But to be fair, people mostly got out of them when the parade started. We're tough people in the town I don't live in. We can handle 17 minutes outside of the car to watch the parade. But we leave the motor running and the heat on.

Here is the first vehicle in the parade.





















And here is the first float, sponsored by a radio station I never heard of, or heard.





















The local cub and boy scout troops came next. The cubs walked, but the boys rode.




















They were followed by a truck from the local telephone co-op, then the Woman's Chorus and Chorale form the county high school.




















Unlike the Macy's parade, the groups here did not perform along the way. They just threw candy. (I told you our's is better in every way!) This group was followed by some church floats and emergency vehicles and the local beauty contest queen and more emergency vehicles from all over the county and our own dear little town.






















I told you the camera was having trouble with the conditions. Let's try that again, as this was actually my favorite float.




















I'm really sorry I couldn't get a better pic of that. It was great. It's "The Christmas Train." On the side of the engine, it says, "Powered by the Gospel." I wanted to follow them a quarter mile to the end of the parade route and ask them exactly how many gospels they had to burn to power the float down the parade route. But it was too damn cold and the parade was not over. Yet.

More emergency vehicles. At least one of which was picking up people along the way who apparently were overcome by the grandeur of it all.





















And even the Macy's parade did not have a river raft in it.





















And still more emergency vehicles. I hope nothing bad happened in the rest of the county, because every vehicle and person who could have done anything about it was in this parade.

And then, no sleigh, no reindeer, no fanfare, Santa and the missus.





















And that was that. Seventeen minutes start to end. Given the size of the town, I think it was at least as good as the Macy's thing, the official "As Seen on TV" Parade. If we had ten million people in the little town I don't live in, we could probably put on a parade with all those baloons. In fact, we'd have to. Because if there were ten million people in the town I don't liive in, they'd have to be stacked 147 deep to fit in it, so the parade would have to be balloons to get through the town floating over the bodies.

So that's that. Merry Christmas, all y'all.

----------------

And that's it from Friarland. Thanks, DFF!

Happy week.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders. Lazy weekend here at the Pod. Today was filled with some failures, but at least I kept busy at them. (They all had to do with videos and computers.)

However!

What a difference a week makes. Another week, another stew.

Well, kind of. This was actually a soup. I had to choose between kielbasa soup and kielbasa stew, and I chose the soup, it sounded easier and had less chopping involved.

Tomaotes, onions, green peppers, celery, three kinds of beans, kielbasa, then the water and spices. And wouldn't you know, it came out stewier than Some Dude's beef stew.






















And it's quite tasty. Slap a salad down beside it, and there was Sunday dinner.

The other one, the kielbasa stew has cabbage in it, though, and since I bought an extra kielbasa I might do that one next.

After all my project failures and a little dinner, I sat down to watch "The Amazing Race" and shake off the day. Milo took a place on the couch, where he immediately sacked out.


















That is a happy boy. Then he meandered over and took a closer position. Right on my shoulder.

























So, there you go. A nice weekend at home. Now time to gear up for the cooking for other people. Yikes.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Hey! I got two movies watched this weekend!

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders. And welcome to another edition of Picture Sunday.

And although this edition of Picture Sunday only has one picture, that picture is winging its way to you from not only an end of weekender, but also an end of Oktoberfester.

Yes, last night was the end of Oktoberfest. And after a very long and hard season, we went out with a bang.

Here's the backstory.

For all of my years in the Sauerkraut Band, up there on the mountain at Oktoberfest, the rest of the band have suffered through "Trumpet Hell," or "The Night of the Seven Trumpets." There's always one night where everyone in the area with a trumpet comes up the mountain. Or old members from the past show up with their trumpets. There are so many trumpets, there's not enough room on the stage for everyone else.

It's most distressing, well, for everyone but trumpet players, but we get through the night.

Well, I had something of an idea this year.

See, I had invited my new-but-not-that-new clarinet friend Julia to come up the mountain this season, and she chose last night. So that made three clarinets for the last night. And....I started to think.

I asked Mr M if he would set aside his "I won't play up the mountain again under any circumstances" rule. He said he would. That made four clarinets!

Then we asked our clarinet friend Lisa if she was free to come up the mountain Saturday. She agreed. Five clarinets!

And in a turn of events that was not only bizarre, but made me laugh maniacally, our fearless leader Ed himself invited another sub player up the mountain the last night.

Six clarinets! To be unleashed on a totally unaware band (and leader)!

"Clarinet Hell," or "The Night of the Six Clarinets!"

For years, we few in the clarinet section had talked about how funny it would be if we could orchestrate our own night of hell. I mean, for seven or so years.

And we did it! And it was my idea!

At first it was a little distressing logistically, deciding where we'd be onstage, and who'd get a mic (there weren't enough), and all that. We moved this way and that, but once the music started, we didn't care, and everyone moved everywhere and played off both music books, and we all had a blast. The night went quickly, and in the end, having six clarinets up there really helped the sound of the band!

The trumpet section (who were a little short that night, oddly enough), the rest of the band, and Ed took it all in stride.

And so an epic legend was made. More clarinets than have ever been on the Oktoberfest stage.

Here we all are.



















That's my moderately new clarinet friend Julia, Doc (Ed's invite), Mary, my longtime clarinet comrade, Lisa (there for the night), me (with boobs hanging out of my dirndl), and Mr M.

We did it! A legend is born!

Happy week.

Highly Recommended (A Picture Sunday)

Hello, blogees. And end of weekenders, and again, if you're me, end of vacationers.

Tonight's Picture Sunday tells a story. Last Thursday, my guest arrived. Yes, Michelle the Dishy, longtime poundsqueeze friend and Hucklebug friend, came to visit the Poderosa.

Now, I've known, well, in the virtual world, known Dishy some 15 or so years, and though we'd never met face to face, I feel like she knows as much or more about me as any "real life" friend, but still I was a little nervous about her arrival. You know, would my corner of the world be good enough for her?

Turns out it took mere minutes, there walking out of the airport, to realize this was going to be a great visit. I think it happened when I realized we were both "cold house" people. Funny how you discuss the strangest things right off the bat.

And if I'm allowed to speak for Michelle, we had a blast. Well, I know I did. Michelle was the perfect houseguest, ready to go along with whatever the plans were for that day, we laughed, we talked, we met the family, we spent time at Mr M's, Poderosa East, and, well, of course, Dishy met Milo.

Milo totally loved Michelle. I became invisible while she was here. Well, except for her very last morning here, Tuesday, when she came to me complaining that Milo wasn't paying attention to her. My theory? I think he thought that Michelle had moved in, was the "new girl who lives in that back room," and now he was used to her. Until then, he'd never known a houseguest to stay more than one night. She was just another person here, like me.

And I'm thinking my theory was proved when we got back home after taking Dishy back to the airport to fly home, and he came in the house and immediately started tearing around looking for her. Nose to the ground through every room, then confusion. I'm scared to death he thinks I killed Michelle, or made her move out right after she moved in.

Anyway, we both have a hundred stories to tell that would probably only be interesting to the two of us. But it was the best vacation I've had in years. And in fact, Michelle came up with the greatest idea. A poundsqueeze/Hucklebug exchange program of sorts, where we all just go visit each other across the country. I think it could work!

But I know you're asking, "Where are the damn pictures?" Well, let's get to some!

Of course the timing for the visit here was because I've invited Dishy to Oktoberfest at Mountain Lake a hundred times, and she's always wanted to come up. So Friday and Saturday night were devoted to that. Friday was fantastic, because Taytie the Dear Nephew and two of his buddies came up (that was another requirement - she must meet Taytie, who she's been hearing about since was about 8), and all of us had a fine time. Saturday was a little dismal, the food was horrible, but - Mr M was in tow, and that meant a designated driver, so the alcohol flowed and that made things easier.

From the first night, Dishy meets Jude the Corruptor!























Did he corrupt her? I'm afraid only Michelle knows the answer to that!

And here's one of some of the SKB welcoming Dishy up the mountain on the second night. Dammit, smile just once, Mr M!




















Of course, Michelle met Sherman and the gang. Boy, the fun we had. Tag, chinese checkers, she and Good Luck Baby Lily colored together, Bunsen did a few scientific experiments for her.

Here's Dishy and Shermie.

























And then the whole gang piled in to get in the shot.



















Oh, and way late into Tuesday morning, after we'd spent our Monday together lazing around watching bad TV, then indulged in some pizza, beer, and Eddie Izzard videos, well, a few dead soldiers.





















The soldier on his side was my fault. I couldn't finish the last one, and had to pour half of him out. So he didn't get to stand upright.

OK, the last picture...

Not sure how to explain this, except to say that Dishy cracked me up by asking if I hold crucifixions in my back yard. I cracked up because I've been waiting for some observant soul to ask that. See, I used to have a clothesline in my back yard, one I never used, and Mowing Boy One asked if he could cut the wires on it because he kept getting tangled up in it. Of course I said "cut away," and so now I have two crosses in my back yard for no apparent reason.

Dishy really wanted to make this picture before she left.

























It all worked out fine. We took her down before any harm came to her.

Anyway, it was a great visit, I had a blast, and now it's time to go back to the Real World.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* I don't know what's going on, but Sherman and Mr M seem to have some secret code language going on that they love to flaunt in front of me. I'm tired of passing along messages to each of them I don't understand.

Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders! And welcome to another edition of Picture Sunday.

I must admit, most of my pictures are of the "catching up" variety.

First of all, this weekend was the first weekend of Oktoberfest. Yes, I know, it seems way too early for that, I thought it myself. But up the mountain I went. It was a fair night, small and enthusiastic crowd, my knee hurt so much I was of a very foul demeanor, and you know, I'm worried about this knee thing. I'm afraid it's going to ruin Oktoberfest for me this year.

Didn't even take my camera up the mountain, but you have all seen a lot of Oktoberfest pictures, so you're not missing much.

So let's get to the old business.

Well, how about this!

Last weekend, Sherman completed his vegetable stand selling. You know he grows vegetables all summer, then sells them at his stand at Mr M's. He makes lots of money, then gives it all to charity. He's such a good boy.

Of course, you know that every year he grows his own "special plant." He's had the Shermanhead peach, Shermanhead melon, and several others.

This year, it was the Shermanhead celery.

























Also last weekend, Mr M, who owns the Assmobile and has for some 14 years, bought a new car! A new Assmobile, Assmobile2!

It's a Hyundai Genesis, which, I must admit, I'd never in my life heard of, but it's a very pretty car. Last weekend he called upon me to drive it from the dealership home, with a couple of stops on the way, and I have to tell you, I was nervous. I mean, driving someone else's new car. It was raining and foggy, and I probably waited about ten minutes to pull out onto the highway, because if there was a car within 100 yards, I wouldn't pull out.

Here's the new Assmobile.




















Sherman and Huckie wanted to get into the act, too.



















And of course, if he'd let me drive it, he'd let Sherman drive it.




















Mr M loves his new car.

On Thursday, the dear nephew came by and gave Milo a new haircut. Wonderful, more so than usual. We decided to cut him a little shorter, since The Nephew's back at school and cuts will be farther and fewer between.

After it was all over, there was a lot of hair around. So much, in fact, that we could make a second doggie. Another Milo!




















By the way, I didn't snatch Milo's nose. It's a piece of dog food.

Now, to more current matters.

I cleaned out my refrigerator today!

It was a chore. My refrigerator needed a major cleaning. But trash day is tomorrow, so the time was right. After a couple of hours and a lot of throwing away, I got everything all spiffy.

And when I say "a lot of throwing away," it's a shame how wasteful I can be. Olives. I bet I threw away 1000 olives past their sell-by date.

Anyway, after everything was all spiffed up, I took a picture.




















That's Chilly Willy relaxing in the fridge. He gets hot a lot down here in the south. We let him relax in the coolness.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* My God, "Mad Men." Mrs Blankenship!