Do You Duluth?

If I want a rich belly rolling laugh that lasts for hours, all I have to do is pick up my outdated Men’s 2005 Catalog of Duluth Trading Co.  The Hub must have gotten it at the office.  It makes me laugh every time I read it, so I just can’t throw it out.  The descriptions have such solid salesmanship geared toward men.  Every man would probably love reading this catalogue.  And, you’ll love laughing at it as well.  Plus, they just have some high quality and novelty items you can’t find anywhere else.

You can get a free copy on their website www.duluthtrading.com, or directly at this link. 

While you are there, don’t miss these gems from the current edition of Duluth Catalogue:

Painless Pluckers (you HAVE to click to read the description)

I’m Not Even Going to Title This One (yup, click again…)

These are both found in the “women’s grooming” section, along with a Wicking Bandana  apparently modeled by Willie Nelson himself, just so we can get an idea of what it might look like on…yourself.

All their illustrations look like sketches, which is just so novel that it’s intriguing.  On-line, you can click “view photo” to see the real thing, which is handy for clothing.  I’d still subscribe to the magazine catalogue, though.  There is nothing better to pilfer through.

Cleaning old mail, I just ordered three different magazines from them…much cheaper than renting a movie, and it’s time for an update!  I can’t wait!  (It obviously takes very little to entertain me in the winter).

You know you want to go see what else is on the site..what are your favorite Duluth descriptions?  Surf around and post on your site, then throw the link in comments here.  I’ll go read them and get a laugh while I await my mail!  Help a girl out! 

(Correction, iCarly is Nickelodeon, not Disney.  I’ll go correct that post.)

Quips and Quirks

Boy Wonder was wanting his typical nightly back-scratch at bedtime, and I surprised him by saying, “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

He started to scratch mine and suddenly said, “Mom, what is your underwear doing way up there?” 

I said, “Son, that’s my brassiere.”

“Oh, yeah.” he said.

“Mom…what do you mean your bra has an ear?”

Hysterical laughter followed with Dad coming to tell us to quieten down.

—

I got out of the van today, told the kids to get their backpacks and coats out of the van, as is my usual habit.  I proceeded to the back door after a rather ragged day of running, having only half done just about everything. 

I looked into my purse and grunted, “Where are my keys?”

And then I heard the van still running.

Boy Wonder was already giggling at me saying “Uh, Mom…”

I said aggravatedly, “Son, turn off the van and bring me the keys!”

This week has been a bit TOO busy.

Tomorrow does not promise to be any better!

—

  Goldilocks called me to the school today mid-day in the middle of tending to kitchen duty for two funerals.  She had “that rash back, and it’s like three times worse than the last time.” 

“Okay, let me talk to the nurse.”

I tell the nurse to put some itch creme on it and give her Dimetapp.  Then, I hung up and realize she worn long sleeves today and it could be a laundry detergent allergy, as evidenced in other clothing lately she’s worn…rather, a change in fabric softener on my part.  Add dry winter skin, and I understand.

So, I drop everything, go home, get her another shirt, short sleeved, go up to her room, in my black funeral clothes, where the teacher says to me, “She’s fine, the nurse took care of her.”

{ahem}.

I just kept standing there with the pink shirt in my hand, and she kept teaching, and we were at an impasse.

I’m obviously not leaving until I hand over the mother-caring shirt at this point.  And…it obviously doesn’t warrant interrupting class.  Finally, daughter sees me, and we disrupt the whole class while she tries to convince me she’s outgrown it only to realize it’s a new shirt, not the old one she’s outgrown.  She shows me her arm…one small raised pimplish bump.  It’s not even red.

She says the creme just helped it really fast, and perhaps it did. 

Half an hour later, I’m home waiting 30 min for school to be out and she calls to say:  “Can you bring pictures for me, today is scrapbook club day.”

I had to earn some mommy jewels in my crown today.  I was not the epitome of energy or grace by that point, but I was there.  They said, “You look tired.” 

What can you say?

I wanted to say, “I think I’ve been had!”

—

Well,  that’s the life and times! 

I’m home to a quiet house to do laundry, and perhaps some exercise {probably not}…I’d better get to it!!!

I Get Sucked Into the School…but, it’s okay

I took lunch to Boy Wonder today.  5th Grade.  He sits with a table of boys.  I had a Kroger bag for his soup and his Diet 7UP when he was finished so that I could return home, finish chores, work out and gets the pizzas ready for Mom’s birthday party tonight.  He said, “Aren’t you staying?”

I said, “Did you want me to?”

He said, “Well…yeah {scooting over to show me that the seat beside me was for him}”

I sat in the middle of 8-10 boys.  I laughed at all their stories.  One I hadn’t heard from camp last summer when they apparently got stuck in the elevator and one of their friends started sobbing.  I think my being out of town while my son was hurling a couple days was about all I cared about at the time.  So funny to hear them tell it now.

My daughter saw me as I was leaving, “Oh! Mom!  We get a special treat today.  I get to eat lunch in my room before of our class’s perfect attendance.  Remember?  My class won?  Will you can eat with me?  Will you?”

So, I loaded up his leftover soup and grabbed a cafeteria tray.  I tried to make it “upstream” against 5 gazillion kids with a full tray and a full glass of iced tea with no lid on it. 

I looked in four classes trying to find her…still swimming upstream with my basket and full tray.

They were watching “Racing Stripes”, too!  The principle was watching them so the teacher could have lunch.  Listening to everyone laugh and giggle was fun.

Then…not to leave out #3…I went to just poke my head in and say “Hi!”  and give a hug.  He was in the hall, so that wasn’t too hard, but they were going to gym, and he hugged me so tight and BEGGED me to stay.  So, I packed me and my long wool sweater into the gym and played with them for an hour.

Somehow, I’m thinking with a belly full of roast beef and mashed potatoes and gym time, I’m STILL not going to get my workout in today, and it’s Friday!  But, I sure did have a great time being loved on by my kids.  Is there any other age when they beg you to stay and are so proud when you come…just for them?

Red said to a friend in the gym:  “Do you like my mom?”  His friend didn’t hear him, so he repeated it three times.  His friend seems a bit confused by the question and what he meant.  “I don’t mean, ‘like’-like, I mean…like”.  By that time, the conversation had already gone on too long for the shy boy, bless his heart.

I got to show off my jumping rope skills.  Not that I’m great at it, but better than a 6 yr. old.  It doesn’t take much to be a hero to that age group.  I love that about kids.

Last night, we were doing kicks at Upward as a special treat for the older girls, and I finally managed to get my jeans into some semblence of organization without scaring any of the mothers looking on.  One of the little girls said, “Wow!  How did you do that?”  (I was just glad to get my legs off the ground in  any shape or form).  I said, “Darlin’, you pray.  You say, ‘Lord, please don’t let any body parts fly off!’” 

The mothers roared.  It’s nice to have your humor appreciated.

Well, off to my list.  I think my pizza dough grew over the top of the rising pans while I was gone and I have quite a mess to unstick!

Blushing

So, a few weeks ago, I took the kids to McDonald’s.  We had a house guest and somehow they lured me out for breakfast.  There was a pleasant older man sitting at the table next to me with a box of Christmas cards he said were from the Hallmark store.  They had a picture of bright red rain boots sitting in a pile of snow.  Another had some watering cans with holly spilling out of them.  I love when photographers can make the ordinary beautiful, so I couldn’t resist complimenting the cards.  He was in town concerning some family member in the hospital.  I had overheard a cell-phone conversation.  The tables were quite close–I couldn’t help it.  He changed his plans to visit because they weren’t up to company, finished his cards, carefully placing stamps from a little round tin container which he brought with him, into McDonalds  (I just seem to enjoy the effort of those careful processes more in this techno-age we live in).

Anyway, when he left, he left a newspaper on the table.  I hate newspapers.  But, nothing else to do, I started looking through it while the kids got their fill on McDonalds new touch-screen games located at a few of the highly coveted tables, tables I like to refer to as “germ infested zones”.  I don’t sit there.  I’m not happy about the kids sitting there.  I don’t like video games, and I don’t like them during meals.  But, hey…I get to read, if I remember to bring a book, which…I didn’t.  Newspaper.

Set apart, I perused the paper a bit, “enculturating myself”.  Did I mention, perhaps, that I pretty much HATE newspapers?  Yeah.  I’ll say it again until the day I die.  My husband reads them and tells me the good stuff to note.  Yup, I’m sure I miss some great stuff.  And, we do take the local paper… I read the front page.  I hardly ever open it beyond that unless my kids or family members are pictured in it…or unless I put something in it.  I’d rather read it on-line.  Why?  I don’t know.  It’s a marvel to all my clued-in friends.  Let me see: the size is inconvenient, the content is long and scattered, and the writing is usually hidden in bias no matter how you look at is (okay, so perhaps all writing is…fair enough, but, don’t stop reading now, this is just getting to the good part). 

So, I was reading a paper.  I felt very grown up.  If only McDonalds served decent coffee.  I HATE McDonald’s coffee, too.  No amount of cream or sugar covers bitter in my book.  The Hub can have a hey-day with it, and I’m glad he enjoys himself, but woe to me if I dare need a drink on a trip and didn’t get something for myself. 

I was sitting there, NOT drinking my Saturday morning treat of The Hub’s sepcial coffee he fixes for me, when I ran across the dining section (dreaming of a better place, perhaps, where there are no germ infested zones filled with video games).  There was an article about a very quaint and cool sounding Filipino restaurant that caught my eye.  The review was just delightful to read, and it, of course, caught my attention because our pastor and family used to serve there as missionaries.  So, I tore the little article out and thought, I’ll pass this on.  Maybe when they  go to see their daughters in “the city”, they’d like to check it out.

About that time, I stood up, having accomplished something to give back to the world in my exercise in paper reading for the year, donned my coat, and turned to give the kids their summons for the end of all cool entertainment for the hour.  I was enculturated, mature from paper reading, and in charge of myself, the world, and my crew. 

At that moment, an even more elderly gentlemen in a bold, almost growling, certainly gruff tone, barked at me rather loudly across the way (while my clipping is still waving in the air, proud that I’d done something), “You about done with my paper, yet?”

I turned and looked back at the table where I’d left the paper, willing it to levitate across the room to the man.  It did not cooperate.  I turned back, realizing I’d made some error, apparently.

“Oh my goodness!  That was YOUR paper?  I thought the man here left it or that it was the store’s!  I’m so sorry!  Well, yes, here…and I only tore out a sort of ad. It was for a Filipino restaurant.”

The whole table looked up with interest, curiosity peaked, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, it’s for my PASTOR.  He was a missionary there, you know.  In the Philippines.”  I stumbled through the whole thing to him and his “friends”, skipping any sense of relevance and eliminating a lot of key words I have no doubt.  They were somewhat amused, but seem used to the gruff old man’s manner.  They asked who my pastor was. 

Finally, it occurred to me that I was using the pastor to cover for my over-active sense of conscious, and I just moved on, all the while wondering why gentlemen #1 didn’t give it BACK to gentleman #2!  Gasp. 

That is still a mystery to me.  Perhaps he was probably worried about not messing up the fresh ink on his Christmas cards, an act which I would highly respect.  I imagine so.  Therefore, I forgive the oversite.

Moving to today.  Fast forward a few weeks.  I’m cleaning house with a “do it now or throw it out” philosophy, and there is The Newspaper Article I stole, still sitting there, un-used, after all that. 

I think to myself, I should look this up on-line and see if I can just sent a link to the story–I’ll never remember to have it with me to share with them.  Google to the rescue. First hit, I found a link to another good-looking review of the same restaurant like the one I found WITH a map.  I could sent that, too.  THIS article included a picture {I’m so curious} of the… 

“minuscule, humble, bright, and warm” restaurant where “seating is restricted to a mere six tables–but they’re topped with cheery blue and yellow tiles.  The floor is well-trodden linoleum–but paper lanterns suspended from the ceiling gave off a cozy, tropical comfort.  A sprinkling of art and artifacts speaks to the restaurant’s Filipino heritage.”  (courier-journal quote)

Doesn’t that sound wonderful? 

Yeah, okay, so now…this is what I saw:  The Restaurant.  Is that how YOUR review would have read?

Fake Sick Grandmothers in the Hospital

My VodPod Search line saves any google search strings.  Having just run across ”fake sick grandmothers in the hospital”, and “photographs of sick grandmothers”, my brows were furrowed, my eyes squinting, my mind racing.  What kind of family member in MY home was searching for THAT…on that net?  That’s just weird.

Then, it struck me.  Apparently. when Goldilocks was trying to create a meaningful digital card for grandma when she was in the hospital, she didn’t JUST search for pictures of ”sparkly teddy bears” to add to her card to pull the whole theme together.  Aha.  I’m just sitting here now, trying to picture a card with a “fake sick grandmother” on the front.  Yeah.  The visions that bring Hallmark moments right here to my ownhome {squinting eyes, and shaking my head}. 

Proposal I Received by way of Comment

I got this comment over the holidays.  It did not appear to be spam:

 Complements of the season! How are you doing over there.Hope fine, my name is _________28 year old.From _____(foreign country) in _______ man, never married/Single, christian carefully read your personal data. Government Of (Country)  Agriculture Dept in Working Regularly attends church life time relationship very serious relationship im open mind big heart man.I Responable, care and protection,man. non smoker,non drinker. physically and you may be lacking i Trust and Belive. Resposble man. i heartily Relation Love Affection man.
If do contact me on this email:  (insert email) 

Ph: (phone number here)

Yours Sincerely.

— From Post “The “Crush” and The Christian Marriage”

???

Email, from My Kids?

My son sent me a funny email today of Santa dancing from school.  I’ve never gotten an email from my kids.  It made me laugh.

Hi Mom,

I was at Santa’s Secret Village at northpole.com and thought you would enjoy this page I found.

Click here to view it!

Happy Holidays!

Sunday Thoughts, Potted Meat, etc…I know, that’s a bad title

Sunday nights are generally a bit of a downer.  I go to church, get my heart all softened and opened up, and there are the needs of children pressing, the needs of a spouse pressing, the needs of Monday pressing, and my energy is low.

And I hate that. 

I dreamed about potted meat on the way home.  I’m not sure why.  And then I started thinking about pickled bologna, which I have in the extra fridge.  It’s expensive, and lasts a very long time around here, because I’m the only one who eats it.  I also started thinking about Humus, but the last few times I ate that, I got heartburn, so I veered from that back to the bologna, but that sounded too strong, so I started thinking of Ham in the fridge, but that sounded too boring, not to mention, I had it yesterday.

Ya’ll are riveted by now.   Yeah.  Ya’ll are needing some fellowship, too, or you wouldn’t be reading this, so I don’t want to hear about it.

So, I dreamed up a pickled bologna spread with either the mini chopper or cheese grater from Pampered Chef.  I opted for the latter as I could not see the mini chopper in the cabinet, though it was my weapon of choice.  I add some real Mayo and crackers, and had a nice Sunday night snack.  It hit the spot, and left me a bit on the “ugh” side, but mainly from the real Mayo I’m not used to.  Overall, a more mild taste.  A girl needs her Nitrates now and then.

Today, I also created an apple popover with the sandwich maker with some cut-up Gala apples, applesauce (remnants of this weeks disaster on the floor by daughter, as you, the faithful, recall).  I sprinkled on some cinnamon sugar, and Mmmm.  It was pretty tasty.  I recommend the bread ENDS for this, as they taste even more crunchy than the normal bread (on every thing in the sandwich maker), but especially for this recipe, because the applesause has a tendancy to seep through the regular light bread and keep it somewhat soggy.  One end piece saved it from being too “wet” to transport and enjoy.

In other news, I did notes on the book of “Numbers” today over at Level Path.  Whew.  The notes were fun…I think it’s probably been my most fun book this far…lots of hidden jewels and “synapses firing” with things going on in my mind.  Sharing my study notes seems as exciting for others to read, as say, flossing our teeth together together, but hey, for those of you reading along who want to know what I’m gaining, here is my faithful note collection link:  Numbers:  A Surprisingly Good Feast.  I didn’t call it anything so entertaining as “Suprisingly Good Feast”, though.   I just made that up.  Anyway…

Worship was a totally awesome thing all day for one reason or another.  If you missed it…why yes, you did miss out!  All of you at the beach and on vacation in exciting places…I have no pity for you whatsoever.  We had a blast throwing beach balls around the room, doing Shackles together, and otherwise, listening to a couple big hunks of meat already challenging me on patience and intimacy with God.  So… there!

No…I’m not bitter.  Not much.  Okay, so maybe a little.  Or a lot.  But, we are going rock wall climbing and doing one overnight at a hotel, as is our tradition, and it’s about all we can normally handle.  Hard to believe it’s been a year since our own DISNEY trip.  It was the most fun we’ve ever had as a family.  I love the memories!

Oh…I’m hosting an open house here from 10-2 on Monday and possibly on Tuesday, depending on your schedules and mine (we’re on a flex schedule right now, which means I’ll entertain as long as my kids are holding out).  Let me know when you are free and want to hang out for a while doing Fall stuff.  Bring something to feed me or show me of interest:  that is your admission.  If it is only yourself, well, you’d better dress well.  HA!  It’s easy:  a magazine I’ve not seen (I’ve not seen most),  something to drink, something leftover, something you are working on…it doesn’t have to be fancy, just conversational.  

On to Kroger for me.  We are out of Q-tips and paper towels…have been for several days.  It’s pretty rough living out here in the wild. 

~Maggie

My Daughter’s Baptism Tonight

My 9 yr. old daughter is getting ‘bapti-tized’ tonight.  Red can’t say the word–that’s what he says.  We all crack up.

She is currently in an emotional frenzy over it.  Hiding in closets and such.

She won’t even let me paint her toe-nails!

Now, that’s stress peoples.

She says she ”doesn’t like to be in front of tons of people” and have to remember what to say.   

“What is your profession of faith?”

“Jesus is Lord”.

You’d think it would be easy…but for a nervous child? 

Their friends, they recount, have said, “Jesus is God”, “Jesus is God’s son”…all true, and neither wrong.  But, it makes a child nervous to not get IT right! 

I am glad they confess something.  I think it is cool.  But, the poor child.  She needs some Prozac at the moment.  Or perhaps her Daddy and I do. 

Currently, he is restraining her in the bed for a nap.  She, of course, didn’t want or need that either.

I am introducing her for baptism, and he is dunking her. 

Should be a hoot!

I need to find some “gear” for her wear, and deal with the effects of this white chili I’ve had two days in a row.

Otherwise, I’ll be saying something other than, “It was a hoot”.

What the Bible Has to Say About Eyelids

Let your eyes look straight ahead,

and your eyelids look right before you.  (Prov. 4:24 NKJV)

I’ve been casually perusing Elizabeth George’s “Life Management for Busy Women”.  I ran across this verse over the weekend and it just cracks me up every time I think of it! 

I read it to my daughter, and now every time I need it, instead of saying, “Get your little hind end over here!”  I say, “Get your little eyelids over here, right in front of me, young lady!”  It’s just a lot more fun!