IF I'M GOING TO DIE FROM A RAZOR BLADE STUCK IN A PIECE OF FRUIT, LET IT BE A STRAWBERRY BECAUSE APPLES ARE HELL ON MY GUMS

I have a real horror story to tell you. A case of child abuse. Committed by my parents. It's embarrassing and hurtful. It's something I can't let go of. I harbor a lot of anger about this particular episode of my life. Maybe it's not a big deal to some, but it was a big deal to me. It made me a weirdo. It made me different. It made me want to choke the crap out of my parents every Halloween.

MY PARENTS NEVER LET ME TRICK OR TREAT.

Why that's ridiculous! Why I never ...

That's right ... I NEVER TRICK OR TREATED.

Why? Because some stupid moron put a razor blade or a straight pin in apples in 1967 in New Jersey. First of all, a Midwestern dairy farm out in the middle of no-man's-land is a far cry from the crime-ridden streets of New Jersey and the delinquent yoods that inhabit its streets. Many of the tampered fruits were planted by the children themselves, many others were considered hoaxes, and no deaths ever occurred as a result of the tampering.

My parents hear some stupid a** story on the CBS Evening News and that was it. No trick or treating for their kids. Oh the humanity! Even now it makes me seethe with anger. The story first aired in 1967. I was born in 1971. Eligible trick-or-treater in 1973 or 74. That tells you how long they held on to that little tidbit of news coverage.

As a result of this violation, I have drug my own child out every Halloween to trick or treat since he was 14 months old. We have run through the streets, filling his trick-or-treat sack with sugary goodness, feeling its weight multiply with each stop. Saying the magical words that produce candy from complete strangers. Watching as they drop it into the sack. Shouting thank yous and happy Halloweens. We're off to the next house. To the next street. To the next moment of candy-filled excitement.

You see, I'm not taking my son trick or treating. I'm trick or treating with him. Capturing the moments taken by a jerk with a pin and an apple over 40 years ago. Promising I will never let something so stupid ever rob my children of the joy of being a child, running across familiar lawns, with a bag full of candy and a shiny new costume. Together we chase the dimming hours of Halloween night, with mischievous laughter in our hearts, and a permanent candy-covered smile on our faces. And a belly ache in the morning. I will never let the maybes and the what ifs determine how I trick-or-treat ... nay ... LIVE!

At the very least, I definitely won't let it make my kid the weird one.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

What urban legends have you heard to make you leary as a parent? What urban legends did your parents observe and inflict upon you as a child? Whatever you got for me POST IT IN THE COMMENTS

Side note:

Lest you think I care nothing for my child's safety, allow me to assure you that I do examine his candy. What I do is this: the crap cheap candy (yes I'm looking at you distributors of mini TOOTSIE ROLLS and GUMMY BURGERS and DUM-DUMS) goes straight into the trash. The good candy (the Reese's, the Hersheys, the Peppermint Patties, the Smarties, the Nerds) goes into two separate piles: chocolate and not chocolate. Ya see? I do care.

As a further side note:

I will be gone until Wednesday. School is out so we're going to be crazy busy taking down the Halloween decorations, cleaning house, and then putting up the Christmas tree. Oh yes, my tree will be up by Wednesday. Don't hate! Just think of the great stuff MY kid will be able to blog about! (My mom was such a mental case, she celebrated Christmas a quarter of the year).

I'm also a few posts behind in comments but I will try and get caught up to your blogs over the weekend!

ONE MORE AND LAST THING!

The picture from yesterday's post was NOT ME! I would love to take credit for it it; however, it is of my beautiful bloggy friend and Top Blog of the Week, Leigh vs. Laundry. You're giving yourselves away non-readers of the blog!

SFTC PRESENTS: TOP BLOG OF THE WEEK - LEIGH VS. LAUNDRY

This week's Top Blog of the Week is Leigh vs. Laundry. This blogger was one of my very first followers and vice verse. She writes from the heart of a woman, friend, wife, and mother; complete with all the good (and bad) things that comes along with those labels. Humorous, sweet, raw, and wonderful; she is all those things and one of my favorite and best blog friends. You know her as Leigh (which happens to be her name). I only know her as a Leigh too! Please give a warm round of applause for the SFTC Top Blog of the Week

Leigh vs. Laundry

Back To the Future XXXIV

A friend of mine recently posted this photo of me on Facebook. I was 16 years old when it was taken and it's hard to believe that it's been 18 years since I stood beneath that tree during lunch period in the courtyard. That was a lifetime ago.


I look at this photo and wonder if I had a Back To the Future moment and that girl could see me now, what she would think of who I've become? Would she climb back into the Delorean traumatized and vowing to do everything differently or would she wake up in her pink canopy bed and hope that the beautiful future that she had just seen for herself wasn't just a dream? Would she be proud of the ladybug tattoo I got when I was 18? Would she hate my haircut that I hate now that I'm trying to grow out? Would she be shocked to see that I am no longer wearing blood red lipstick and Doc Martins? I swore that I would wear Doc Martins until the day I died. Would she see my two boys and marvel at how fantastic they are?

I think that as she hid in my hall closet (because we all know from watching Back to the Future that the me from the past cannot, under any circumstances, be seen by the future me) that she would be shocked to watch me successfully cook dinner for my family. She would gasp at the image of me folding laundry and putting it away without anyone forcing me to do it. She would see my husband and have to force herself from running out of her hiding place and giving him a big o'l kiss. I think that she would watch me rocking my baby to sleep or reading a book to Griffin and cry with joy that she would one day become a Mother.

Yeah...I think that I would make that young girl proud.

Thank you Leigh for your lovely guest post! This has been my favorite one of yours (thus far) and I've recently seen a lot of different posts about writing a letter to your whatever-aged-self, and this post is OLD, so you were WAY ahead of the curve girl! As always, Leigh, you are simply a ... delight. Now be a good SFTC follower and take a moment to hop over to Leigh's blogging laundry basket and leave her a comment too!

Okay, let's have it! What would you tell your 16 year old self? Me? I would tell myself to not marry my high school sweetheart because the wedding would cost a fortune and I'd end up getting divorced after 4 years anyhow! Whatever you got for me, POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

SFTC PRESENTS: SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY: UNFORTUNATE HITCHHIKERS EDITION

Welcome to SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY, where my followers create stories based on a picture I post. This week we're using some great stuff from our good friends over at www.failblog.org. In addition, the most laugh-worthy submissions will have their blog, with their comments, featured in my next SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY post.

LAST WEEK'S POST:
IT REALLY BURNS WHEN I DO THAT

Our winner is Moooooog35 at mental poo who was nominated not only by my husband but by numerous followers. Out of respect for the more delicate, I will not repeat his exact comment here, but it alluded to male bodily functions and drinking them. Enough said.

So CONGRATS AGAIN TO YOU MENTAL POO. You raise the proverbial comedy bar for us each and every week.

THIS WEEK'S POST (IN KEEPING WITH THE HALLOWEEN THEME)
THE UNFORTUNATE HITCHHIKER

Please post a caption for the photo in the comments!

Attention:
Winners will be selected by my FOLLOWERS!
So take a minute to read the submissions.
There are some funny ones in there. Enjoy and vote!

SLUMBER PARTIES: INNOCENT EVENINGS OF GIGGLES, NAIL POLISH, AND PRANK PHONE CALLS OR DIABOLICAL DEALINGS WITH THE DEVIL? YOU DECIDE.

In my slumber party days, my friends and I would always start out with the giggles and whispers. The nail polish and boy gossip. The pajamas and pillow fights. Somehow and somewhere along the way it would turn into a night of living horror. Usually starting with a harmless game of snipe hunting. Which segued into hiding in the fields surrounding our dairy farm to play a terrifying game of hide and seek --- Children of the Corn version.

Many a party would lead to sneaking out my older sister's Ouija board to conjure up such riveting spirits as Elvis and Marilyn Monroe (now seriously, SERIOUSLY, what the h*ll were we thinking?), and re-creating the old levitation stand-by Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, where on more than one occasion, my little sister swore she was lifted at least 3 feet off the ground.

Never one to let a little thing like reality ruin my party, I would be the one pushing the Ouija board disk to spell out the words and names and then SWEAR I wasn't moving it. I would be the one blowing the candle out (to signify a spirit was in our midst) to the blood-curdling screams of 14 other pre-teen girls.

Do you know how hard it is to blow out a candle from 3 feet away without a giant intake of breath being noticed? DO. YOU. KNOW. It takes a certain something most of you probably don't have. You can decide for yourself what that something is.

I was the one hiding in the corn rows, lying in wait for my most scaredy-cat friend, Shannon, to run past, so I could tackle her in the dark and inadvertently make her pee her pants. The peeing the pants wasn't really intentional but we were 14 years old, I mean, really? I knew she was scared. and being chased. alone. in a dark cornfield. in the middle of no where. I'm cruel.

My purpose was to give them the experience I so desperately craved! I wanted to believe the Ouija moved and made sense and answered questions. I wanted the candle to be blown out. I wanted the spirit to make its presence known. I wanted to believe. And if I couldn't believe, the next best thing was that SOMEONE could believe ... my friends believed ... I was doing them a huge favor right? Think of the awesome fireside stories they could tell for years to come! I did the right thing? Hmmm? Maybe?

I have scarred them for life.

What are some crazy things you did at slumber parties? What are some things you did to scare your friends or vice versa? Whatever you got for me POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

MY VERSION OF RIDING THE WORLD'S BIGGEST, FASTEST, TALLEST ROLLER COASTER. WITHOUT THE VOMIT.

After a week's hiatus I am back! Thank you for your patience! My daughter was sick, my cat was sick, my computer was sick. We were a hot tranny mess. Enough.

I am a definite fan of the horror genre. I love movies, I love books, I love hayrides, haunted houses, and ghost walks. I even belong to a scary movie club. I love it all. It is the adrenalin rush of enjoying a good scare, while knowing it's not real. Or that it's just a story. Or is it?

I remember sitting beside my older sister in our small town's old, smelly and dank movie theatre, watching my very first horror movie A Nightmare on Elm Street and being introduced to one of the genre's most enduring villains, Freddie Krueger. Remember the song? One-two, Freddie's coming for you. Three-four, better lock the door. Five-six, grab your crucifix. Seven-eight, better stay up late. Nine-ten, never sleep again. I thought it was the first original concept in horror that I had ever seen. I was terrified. Not only to sleep, but to get a bad perm or date Johnny Depp.

Or the time my parents (after being mercilessly harrassed by their three daughters) allowed us to watch The Exorcist when it aired on TV for the first time. We would cover my little sister's eyes during the scariest parts and tell her the sounds were coming from deranged cows. (We lived on a dairy farm, so it was semi-believable). I think I slept in the same bed with my little sister for 2 months after watching the movie. Under the pretense that she was too scared to sleep alone. When really it was me who was too scared. What ... a wuss.

When I was in high school, I read The Exorcist (the book from which the movie was based on) for the first time. I remember the scene that would make me too afraid to get out of my bed to shut off the overhead light in my room. It was the spider walk scene (click to view the scene, which was cut out of the original movie), when Regan walks down the steps of her house upside down and backwards. I was scared to death she was under my bed just waiting for me to step on the floor so she could drag me under there with her.

Or sitting in my living room, watching Carrie for the first time with my two sisters, while my parents were in their bedroom getting ready to go out somewhere on a Sunday afternoon. The final scene where I said, Watch! Her hand is going to pop up out of that grave. And of course it did. And we still screamed as if we ourselves were being dragged into a dead prom queen's cursed grave. Scaring the bejeezus out of our parents. And forever giving me the term dirty pillows to use in any half-way decent comical setting.

Being scared ... I am addicted to it. I am addicted to the blood pulsing through my veins, the peering out between my fingers at the movie screen, the cringing in my seat as the killer is approaching, the screaming, the yelling ... I love it all. It's my version of riding the world's biggest, fastest, and tallest roller coaster. Without the vomit.

What are your earliest memories of being scared? Or what movies or books scared the bejeezus out of you? POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

I LIKE TO TALK ABOUT STUPID STUFF PEOPLE LIKE ME SAY TO OTHER PEOPLE NOT DISSIMILAR TO ME BUT WHO ARE NOT ME

If you haven't been around for long, you may not know that my BFF and I are a couple of hard core morons. To provide further evidence of this, I will let you in on a little secret. We love to quote lines from movies. To each other. Constantly. We can have entire conversations using only quotes from our favorite movies.

If we're excited about doing something in particular:

We're really doing it Lloyd.

If one of the kids is about to do something they shouldn't be doing:

Don't you put that knife in your leg. Don't you do it.

If we're too tired to even comment on the circus going on around us:

I'm too drunk to taste that chicken.

If we're ever amazed at the obliviousness of any topic or heartily disagree with each other:

You're killing me, Smalls.

If anyone is appalled by our behavior:

We're winners and winners get to do what they want!

If we're disgusted with someone:

You ain't nothin but a bag a bones. All you ever did was make a hot daughter.

If something seems completely illogical and improbable:

So you're sayin' there's a chance...

Greetings:

Helloooooooooooooooooooooo

Good-byes:

Good-bye my looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove

If we're uncertain about anything:

I ... I don't know. Maybe we'll go to Home Depot. I don't know. Maybe if we have time.

I could go on forever. What kind of a friendship would it be, if we couldn't continuously entertain one another with these snippets of minutiae? A very boring one, my friend. A very boring one.

What are your favorite movie quotes of all time? Bonus question: Name two of the five movies that our quotes come from and you'll receive ... a big pat on the back for being so smart and savvy. I want to hear them all so POST IT IN THE COMMENTS

SFTC PRESENTS: SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY: IT REALLY BURNS WHEN I DO THAT EDITION

Welcome to SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY, where my followers create stories based on a picture I post. This week we're changing it up and using some great stuff from our good friends over at www.failblog.org. In addition, the most laugh-worthy submissions will have their blog, with their comments, featured in my next SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY post. Winners will be selected by my unbiased spouse. Let's begin:

LAST WEEK'S POST:

The nominees are:

Moooooog35 at mental poo

Pinky Tuscadero really let herself go.

Inspired Dream at Out of the Extraordinary

Man, I wish I hadn't let Rufus talk me into that bet on who would win the Nobel Peace Prize.

The Waylaid Wordsmith at How to Not Write a Book

On Saturday the very hungry caterpillar ate through one piece of chocolate cake, one ice-cream cone, one pickle, and one slice of Swiss cheese, then looked up and spotted Lance by the checkout. He found himself strangely not that hungry after all.

Jenn Erickson from Rook No. 17

Perhaps the tiara would have been a bit over the top," reflected Terry,"but SOMEDAY my prince WILL come...and what if he's right around the next aisle with the Little Debbie's? Pull yourself together Ter...breath...composure...

June Freaking Cleaver at The Ratio of Failures

Unfortunately, the local Wal Mart ran out of female models for their new Mary Kate and Ashley line, so Merle in Automotive agreed to fill in.

Hillbilly Duhn at Time and Tribulations of Hillbilly Duhn

What? You ain't ever seen a hillbilly sister in the store before?

And the winner is:

mental poo

(again)

he's really funny.

who's going to try and stop him this week?

THIS WEEK'S POST:
IT REALLY BURNS WHEN I DO THAT

PLEASE POST YOUR STORY ABOUT THIS PICTURE IN THE COMMENTS!

Help me visit your blog! Help me be YOUR follower! Please post a comment to let me know you were here, even if it is only I WAS HERE or NEW FOLLOWER so I can be sure to return the favor and follow you!

SFTC PRESENTS TOP BLOG OF THE WEEK: STIR-FRY AWESOMENESS

sThis week's Top Blog of the Week is Stir-Fry Awesomeness. This blogger's posts are all of three things: 1. short 2. to the point 3. Hysterical. A great writing talent that I wish I could emulate, except I am far too long winded. Many of you know her as Kyslp (and do all of you wonder what the heck that means? me too!), I only know her as a breath of Fresh Bloggy Air! Please give a warm round of applause for the SFTC Top Blog of the Week

Stir-Fry Awesomeness

The Secret Recipe For Hangover Prevention: A Love Story

My husband and I have been together for almost 16 years. This is pretty sad, but I had to ask him how long because I can never remember. He said "It will be 16 years in a few months, Jackass". That internetz, is True Love.

More examples of The Love: When The Huz proposed to me, he was driving his studly Subaru and said "So I guess it's time to get a ring, huh?" Yes, folks he set the romance bar high early on in our relationship.

I picked out my own engagement ring. An experience which was highlighted by the salesgirl asking "When is your baby due?" Uh, in 5 years. Note to self: long sweaters over slim-fitting pants are not a good idea for the pear shaped. (I’m looking at you Macy’s and your skinny jeans and leggings.)

Let me describe my wedding to you. Oh, that's right, I didn't have a wedding! I took a half day off work (without pay) and was married by a Justice of the Peace who, I swear, we referred to as Judge Ito. I was wearing black and grey and I'm not sure if my luv and I were speaking to each other that day.

My wedding night featured a select crew of drunken yahoos cavorting in my heavily paneled (even the ceiling) apartment. One of said yahoos was a lunatic named Butch who had driven up from Georgia with a friend of mine.

Butch's main problem was that he was recovering from a head injury. He had a steel plate in his head and had been in a rehabilitation facility prior to the fabulous nuptials.

Have you spent much time around persons who have suffered traumatic brain injuries? They can be a little batshit crazy pragmatically inappropriate. Which is really a nice way to say that they will say any crazy old thing that pops in their heads.

As an example, I once worked with an elderly lady who suffered a head injury in a car wreck. She would tell me about how, when she wasn't in occupational, physical, or speech therapy, she was remodeling houses just for fun. She went into great detail about busting out walls, rearranging plumbing, and hanging drywall. She was very convincing. I asked her to give me an estimate on our bathroom.

Butch didn't have any delusions of being a carpenter. He was just an asshole. I suspect he was an asshole before the head injury but that has never been confirmed. Butch kept his schizz together during the ceremony and for the first half of the dinner afterward.

But when the booze started flowing, Butch's gums started flapping. He was monopolizing the conversation the entire night. He cursed and talked loudly. (Breaking the Cardinal Rule of Weddings: Thou shall not curse more or talk louder than the bride.) Butch ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and washed it down with multiple cocktails.

By the time we convened to Panel Pad, Butch had moved on to flat out insulting me. He insisted on giving a the first toast of the night and began it by saying "Even though I believe people should only get married in a church or they don't have a real marriage..," And that was just the wind up.

Back in the day, I had myself a true partner in crime (and in pharmaceuticals). She knew that this jerk-o was causing me distress. So we hatched what we thought was a fail-proof plan to quiet him down.

We crushed up some muscle relaxers, poured a nice big glass of Jaegermeister and mixed Butch a little cocktail. We may have thrown in some Valium for fun. I can't remember. He drank it down and we kept waiting for him to pass out and shut up. He never did. We may have made him another cocktail. (or two)

The next morning, the whole gang was feeling pretty rough. Except for Butch. Not even a headache.

No wonder. It turns out that my compadre and I had given him Relpax (migraine medication) instead of muscle relaxers.

And now you know the Secret Recipe for Hangover Prevention.

Excuse me, I have to go tell my husband I love him.

Thank you Kyslp for your insight into how to medicate roudy wedding attendees! You are simply a ... delight. Now be a good blogger and take a moment to hop over to the Stir-Fry Awesomeness blog wok and leave her a comment too!

Everyone has a crazy wedding story! Mine is that my (ex) husband only had to bring TWO things to the wedding (three if you count him) the Lenox crystal stemware for our toast and the silver engraved cake cutter. He forgot both. I spent a lot of the wedding angry. What's your crazy wedding moment? Or have you secretly drugged an annoying idiot? Whatever the case POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

HUG FOR THE CURE - SCRAPBOOKING IS A DISEASE, AND IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME YOU HAVE TO READ THIS

In honor of my upcoming Sunday Scrapbook Session with my best gals, I'm going to entertain you with one of my finer moments.

My BFF and I were shopping at our local Hobby Lobby many months ago. It was late winter, and as landscaper's wives, funds were low. We were in the sticker isle where we were perusing the over-priced sticker selection and mourning the fact that we could probably only afford to put very few items in our shopping carts.

Me - Look at this. Just look at this. $6 for these puffy stickers. I know they would totally make the page, but I just can't justify paying that price.

Her - I know. I know. It's robbery. Highway robbery.

We stood in that aisle for a good 20 minutes when suddenly we really LOOKED at the aisle.

And noticed.

The 50% off all stickers sale.

Me - OH. MY. GOD. OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD.

These stickers are all
FIFTY - PERCENT - OFF!!!!!

We were standing at opposite ends of the aisle. At the moment that we realized the Hobby Lobby sale Gods had smiled upon us, we ran (in slow motion, no doubt) towards each other and

Hugged.

And squealed.

And jumped up and down.

In public.

In front of a multitude of other Hobby Lobby patrons.

Like two mental patients.

It's a disease, my friends. Scrapbooking is an awful, awful disease.

What is the stupidest thing you ever got excited about? POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

REASONS WHY I HATE MY DOG AND REASONS WHY I LOVE MY DOG AND I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE HAS MORE REASONS BUT WE'RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT, AREN'T WE?

It is a love/hate relationship with our 2 year old chocolate lab, Ballerina. For the first six months we had her, I was newly pregnant, and I hated her. I hated her shedding hair, I hated her neediness, I hated walking her, I hated taking her out to pee at 2 in the morning, I hated her 'almost' being potty trained, I hated just about everything about her. But eventually I fell in love with her. We'll get to that in a moment. But first ...

I hate my dog because:

she chews holes the size of golf balls into my plush carpet and the holes can not be covered with my throw rug because she defiantly chews the holes in the carpet that directly borders the throw rug

she looks at me with her big sad depressed face every three minutes until I walk her ... she knows I operate solely on guilt


she barks only at inopportune moments, such as when the baby is napping or when the baby is napping or when the baby is napping

she barks at any detectable movement, and it doesn't matter if it is a leaf, the mail lady, my husband, the school bus, an intruder, or a fart in the wind

she snores and farts --- in my bed

she eats flip flops at an incredible rate

she makes me carry her poop in a bag during walks --- except for the night time walks when I bring along my DECOY BAG; this is where I pretend to pick up the poop, but in reality I just leave it where it lies - sorry neighbors (not really). Oh, c'mon --- like you don't do it too.

when left to her own devices, she drags everything out of the trash can and scatters it to the four corners of our backyard --- where it will rot for a few weeks until the husband decides to mow, and then he'll decide if it is mower worthy (can be run over) or if it needs to be re-trashed

she thinks she is Cujo 98% of the time and wants to fight every single dog we see. I can't back her up in these fights. I've got kids to think about.


she runs around the couch like a coked-up mental patient, because inevitably she has some beloved toy in her jaws and is being chased by a screaming, crying child to GIVE IT BACK! DROP IT! DROP IT! LEAVE IT! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

But I will never forget the moment I fell in love with her. I had just given birth, and was dealing with the life-altering transition of welcoming our newest member of the family. New schedules, new sleeping arrangements, a new normal was being formed. It's a tough time for everyone, but especially for me ...

(do you see, right now as I type this, she just swiped a Webkins toy from the floor and is running around with it, while my son screams. I want to kill her)

... I had post partum depression with my son, and I was extremely anxious that I was going to have another PPD episode with my new born daughter. It was a thought that was constantly in my mind as I struggled to avoid, yet inevitably gave in to every meltdown, temper tantrum, and crying jag that swept my hormonal self.

I was sitting on the couch in the wee hours of the morning, holding onto my precious little girl, and sobbing because I was feeling so overwhelmed. And helpless. And scared. I was so afraid that I was going crazy again. Because if you didn't know, PPD makes you think you are crazy, and guess what? You are.

I even said it out loud as I sat by myself in the dark living room. I don't want to do this again. I don't want to go through this. I can't do it. I don't want to!

At that moment, Ballerina came over to me, jumped on the couch beside me, and laid her head on my shoulder. She looked at me with her big brown eyes, as if to say, It' s okay. We're all a little crazy. But I'll still love you no matter what. And so will that baby. And so will everyone else. It'll be okay. Just let it all out.

I leaned my head against her soft brown fur and let it all out. All the worry, and the fear, and the stress, and the emotions. I let it go. And she let me without ever moving her head from my shoulder. And that was it. We were best friends. She was my good girl. I fell in love.

And that's why I do and always will love my dog. No matter what the crazy b*tch does.


Do you have a dog? Is it love or is it hate or is it both? And why? I want it all so POST IT IN THE COMMENTS.

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT - AND I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT MY NOGGIN AGAINST THE HEADBOARD WHEN MY 80 LB LAB JUMPS ON MY BED AT 3 AM

In celebration of the Halloween holiday season, I'm bringing some heeby jeeby-ness to the crib! The following is my rendition of an urban legend that first originated in the 1960s. Many thanks to the good folks at about.com. for my inspiration!

Margaret was a spinster who had no family left to her in her small town and few friends. She lived alone in her upstairs apartment with only her little black terrier, Mr. Boots, to keep her company. Each night after she'd completed her long day of work at the library (she was a librarian, of course! Aren't all little old ladies?) she would walk the three blocks home, hang up her coat and purse in the hall closet, put on the kettle, and settle down for a quiet evening, a cup of tea, and the evening news.

She finished the last of her tea, shut off the television - nothing reported on there except murderers, deviants, and good-for-nothings - and shuffled to bed for a long sleep. Oh, there was Mr. Boots, faithfully waiting for her to feed him his night time snack. Such a good boy, aren't you Mr. Boots? She gave him his liver snack and escorted him to his old hair-covered sleeping pillow in the corner of her bedroom.

Margaret lies in her bed --- warm, cozy, and sitting on the edge of slumber. She takes off her glasses, places them beside her on the night stand, and reaches over to switch off the light. She takes one last look to see that Mr. Boots is perched in his bed. Ah yes, there he is. Already snuggled into a furry black ball. Such a comfort Mr. Boots is.

In the wee hours of the early morning, Margaret feels that familiar nuzzle at her hand. And for some reason, Margaret has an English accent, so let's go with that, shall we?

Oh Mr. Boots! she hisses. I'm not getting out of this warm bed to take you for a wee! Now get back on your bed.

The licking ceases.

She resumes her slumber.

A few minutes later, the licking again resumes.

Mr. Boots, I give you my full permission to wee on the floor. Just don't hit the rug. Now let me get some sleep, PLEASE!

The licking ceases.

She shuts her eyes for a total of three cricket chirps.

The licking starts again.

MR. BOOTS! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ...

She blindly reaches for her glasses on the bed side table, shoves them clumsily onto her face in an old-lady-shaking-with-rage moment, why she has never ... that Mr. Boots, no more snacks right before bedtime. No more. She's not going to fall for the sad looks. She's just not going to do it.

Margaret switches on the light and is confused to see Mr. Boots sitting across the room on his bed pillow.

Even more curious, while she is staring into Mr. Boot's all-knowing black eyes, she feels the licking begin yet again.

I love a good ghost story! Unfortunately, mine was so-so at best. But it's all in a selfish attempt to hear what you've got to say! I want to hear crazy urban legends or personal experiences that were down right freaky! Whatever you got for me make sure you POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

SFTC PRESENTS - SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY - ALL SHIRT-KNOTTED UP UNDER MY BOSOM AND NO WHERE TO GO EXCEPT WAL-MART

Welcome to SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY, where my followers create stories based on a picture from our good friends over at People of Wal-mart. In addition, the most laugh-worthy submissions will have their blog, with their comments, featured in my next SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY post. Winners will be selected by my unbiased spouse. Let's begin:

LAST WEEK'S POST:
CAN YOU REALLY SEE MY BELLY
WHEN I WEAR THIS SHIRT?



The nominees are:

Moooooog35 at Mental Poo

Isn't the hulk supposed to be green?

Candace at Life According to Candice

Jessica Simpson really went downhill after the breakup with Tony Romo, and the mauling of poor Daisy. To dull the pain she ingested Crisco at an alarming rate.

Scoman at a name in your recollection

From a young age her mother had always told her "If you've got it, flaunt it". She wasn't sure what "it" was, she just knew she had a lot of everything, and so she flaunted that.

AND THE WINNER IS

Moooooog35 at Mental Poo

THIS WEEK'S POST:
THE COLOR APRICOT LOOKS GOOD ON MORE
THAN ONE KIND OF FRUIT

James knew it was going to be a crazy night. When you
look this good, things are bound to get a little out of control.

PLEASE POST YOUR STORY ABOUT THIS PICTURE IN THE COMMENTS!

Help me visit your blog! Help me be YOUR follower! Please post a comment to let me know you were here, even if it is only I WAS HERE or NEW FOLLOWER so I can be sure to return the favor and follow you!

Side note: The title of this caption is meant to be a joke and is not intended to be a slight against the gay/lesbian community. No one loves the gays more than I. So keep your blah, blah, blah to yourself.

SFTC PRESENTS TOP BLOG OF THE WEEK: BATCRAP CRAZY AND THINGS THAT MAKE YOU SAY AWWW….CRAP!

In order to draw more attention to my TOP BLOG picks, each Friday I am going to be featuring a guest post from my Top Blog of the Week. I just stumbled upon this little brainstorm about a week ago (thanks This Stop Willoughby for the inspiration) so I apologize to my other Top Blogs who didn't have the opportunity to guest post. That's just the way the nut sack hangs from the tree. Go here

Before we get started, as a side note, I have put my responses to the post in italics. Just in case you couldn't work that one out on your own.

This week's Top Blog of the Week is Batcrap Crazy. As soon as I read the name, I whizzed to her blog with lightning speed. Why? I love things that rhyme and I love crazy. She did not fail me. Many of you know her as Daffy, I only know her as Delightful! Please give a warm round of applause for the SFTC Top Blog of the Week

BATCRAP CRAZY

What an honor! First let me say that this is one of my favorite blogs – and I’m not just saying that because I was asked to guest post! If I had to pick the single most awesome thing about SFTC (which would be very hard because she is so PHE nominal! And I was NOT asked to do that by the way) I would say it is the fact that Jesus is your Homeboy and you totally put Him out there for everyone to see! Props to you SFTC! Secretly think - is she serious or is she taking the piss? We all know I'm coo-coo for Christ.

Okay, lets refocus people…here…on me…. I would like to say Thank You for putting me on Front Street in my underwear, Kelly (she's referring to me - that's the name people use to refer to me. If you think my name is Julie, well, you can draw your own conclusions). See, when asked if I was up for a guest post I thought --- so cool I’m totally in! This is my first time so I am bit nervous. It's okay. Just relax. No, I really do love you. I love you. No, I'm not just saying it. C'mon. You know you want it. In fact I’ve already made like three trips to the bathroom (I have to pee when I’m nervous) and it’s only the second paragraph. I asked Kelly if she had guidelines or fun questions I get to answer or a topic on which my pompous ass could pontificate. Hmmm..NOPE… do whatever… uh OKAY! So again I say Thank You for sticking me on Front Street in my underwear! You're welcome! So put on your big girl panties, and let's go!

I went through several ideas for the post and have pretty much scrapped them all. No pressure or anything, right? Do I write something funny (to me anyway) or tell ya’ll a little bit about me or share something humiliating so you could at least feel sorry for me and maybe like me a little? I decided on a cocktail of all that. Since I’m thinking about switching careers to become a Stand Up Comedian (that takes grapes my friend, that takes grapes) I thought I should maybe try some of my material out on ya’ll first. All I have so far is I stand up and everyone laughs….I still have to polish it up a little. So while I’m polishing, see how this little diddy does ya…

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU SAY AWWW….CRAP!

• Arriving to work and realizing you forgot to put on underwear (which wouldn’t really be that big of a deal except…. YOU’RE WEARING A SKIRT)

• Realizing you forgot to take your allergy medicine but took a double dose of FiberCon (so now your nose AND your ass is gonna run all day)

• Typing out a fabulously wretched venting hatemail about one friend who thoroughly pissed you off and realizing AFTER you hit send that you sent it to the wrong person.

• Getting pulled over doing 65 in a 45 only to find that the cop is someone you used to date and feeling the uncontrollable urge (which you give into) to say “still compensating for your shortcomings?” as he gives you the ticket.

• Grabbing a QTip off the bathroom counter to clean left over smudges of mascara (which is really batcrap) from under your eyes only to discover as you wet the tip on your tongue that you’ve already used that QTip – to clean your ears!

• Hitting the windshield fluid button while zooming down the highway at 70 forgetting that your sunroof is still open.

• Trying your hand at target shooting with your husbands bow, missing the 4ft by 4ft target that’s 20 feet away entirely but managing to zing said arrow through the center of the cat door flap (which is like 12in by 12in) on the shed (some 45 feet away) and hearing a distinct screech.

• Letting yourself go to the point where hubs is threatening to molest your top lip with duct tape in the wee hours of the night if you DON’T DO SOMETHING WITH THAT YA SASQUATCH!

Thank you Daffy for your insight into yet more crap-related topics! You are simply a ... delight. Now be a good blogger and take a moment to hop over to BatCrap Crazy's blog cave and leave her a comment too!

So let's have it! What things do you do (or have you done) that make you say AWWW, Crap!?

Personally, I say it every time I poop myself. Well, I actually say You gotta be sh*tting me. And then I reply back to myself, Yes. Yes, I am sh*tting me. It's a serious and embarrassing medical condition. I have very nearly had to pull off the side of the road and poop in a Wendy's fast food bag. But that's another story for another blog post.

Whatever crap you have POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

MY SON WENT TO THE BASEMENT AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY BLOOD-COVERED CAT'S TAIL

It was shortly after I gave birth to my daughter last year that I was going to meet friends for a relaxing night out. I was running late and scrambling frantically around the house looking for what I am always looking for: shoes, purse, keys, phone. My 6 year old son approaches me hesitantly and asks me to follow him into the back room (the husband's man cave) and the following conversation ensues:

Son - Mom, you need to sit down.

Me - I can't honey, I'm getting ready to run out the door.

Son - No, mom. You need to sit down. This is serious.

I stop briefly to look directly at him.

Me - What is it?

Son - I'm scared, mom. I'm scared.

I'm thinking the worst. He's been molested by the meth-addicted (allegedly) dogwalking neighbor or he's hurt his new baby sister ... whatever it was, I could tell it was going to be bad.

Me - Oh, honey, whatever it is, it's okay. You can tell mommy anything and I will always love you no matter what.

Son bursts into tears.

Son - I don't wanna get in trouble mom. I don't wanna get in trouble.

Me - Just tell me and get it over with. Just tell me.

Son - I cut off Wee's tail. (Wee is our 11 year grumpy old man cat).

Me - You what?

Son - I cut his tail off.

Me - Well, how on earth do you know that?

Son - Because it's sitting on the basement steps.

And it was.

Oddly enough, recent statistical data tells us that cat's tails get amputated in basement doors at an alarming rate of 12 per minute.

What is something extraordinary that your child has done that has left you speechless? What is something you did as a kid to leave your mom speechless? POST IT IN THE COMMENTS

The following is the first official executive board meeting of SFTC. If you aren't interested, go straight to comments, and thanks for visiting!

Jill, could you please take minutes? Thank you.

First order of business - Comment replies.

I am two posts behind responding to follower comments. This is due to serious cat illness and lack of sleep from worrying about said cat and whether or not I would have to euthanize my son's beloved pet. (Thankfully, I did not.) I have not done much outside of publishing new posts.

Thank you to everyone who keeps reading and following and commenting despite my lameness! Holy Moley are you commenting! I honestly have the world's funniest and best followers. I read them out loud to my son and we both laugh and laugh. I love it! I promise I will get caught up this weekend, if it kills me! And it very well might.

Second order of business - Following new blogs

I have been having issues following my new followers. For whatever reason when I click on the widget it is not pulling up the follow page so I then go to the top bar and select follow, but that appears to not be working either; therefore, if you are a new follower, and I am NOT following you, please remind me in the comments, or better yet, email me your link, so I can put your URL in my dashboard. That's what she said. Please don't be ashamed to tell me more than once.

Third order of business - Speaking from the Fridge is Dead

I'm killing my series, Speaking from the Fridge, not based on anything aside from having a great deal of difficulty coming up with topics. If I have to think that hard about writing, then it isn't worth it. It just became increasingly difficult to make it even remotely funny and weight loss - it's no joke. I did lose over 10 lbs in the time that I did do it, and I may occasionally blog about weight loss but a weekly series is too much. RIP SFTF.

As a side note, there is a lovely lady, Deborah from Amazing Animal Blessings and Prayers blog who has been a wonderful support during our cat illness, so here's a little shout out to her. As it happens, it is not feline leukemia, just an infection/flea/tapeworm problem, and she is responding well to antibiotics and is finally eating again. Praise Be to God!

ARE WE GONNA DO THIS? I DON'T CARE IF I AM 30 YEARS OLDER THAN YOU, I WILL BUST YOU UP SIDE THE HEAD. IT'S WHAMMA JAMMER TIME.

Today's after school ritual was much the same as every other day's after school ritual. The son rode his bike through the neighbor's side yard to play with the neighborhood boys ... and in short order he was back, ranting and raving like a crazy person.

But first, allow me to introduce you to the ensemble of characters appearing in this drama:

THE SCHNOT BROTHERS.

The schnot appears to flow from their nostrils on a quasi-permanent basis. I have yet to stumble upon them when the green goo was not making it's continual journey into their mouths and when they were not surreptitiously licking it off their faces. YUM.

In addition, they have flaming bright red slash orange slash clown-colored hair and are covered with a blanket of orange colored freckles that match the weave.

THE BLONDE BUTTFACE

In the company of adults he puts on the meek and mild act, looking up at you innocently from beneath his battering eyelashes --- but I'm no fool. I've watched him and when he thinks no one is looking --- he think he got game.

Shoot holmes --- you ain't got nothin' on this old school home girl. (I like to get all chubby white mom gansta' when I'm bout to throw down).

As I was saying, son comes home to tell me that after asking if he could join them, they responded with taunts such as,

We don't want to play with you
You're just a chubby fat kid
You're not even ... COOL?

What the ... do they even KNOW who his mother is? How could he NOT be cool? This is not the first time this sort of thing has gone on and the not cool comment made me snap ike an old lady's neck caught in her knitting needles. I retorted, That's IT. I'm going over there right now and you're coming with me.

I tossed the baby in the stroller and we went back down the street. The son rode his bike, so he was up in front of me, and the kids saw him approaching, but didn't see ME. Then they start screaming,

HERE HE COMES AGAIN! OH NO! HERE HE COMES AGAIN! RUN! HIDE!

Oh no you jus' di'ent. My heart sank to my toes and my stomach started to burn with pure unadulterated rage. How dare they ... just let me get my hands on those little @$#%$# pieces of @$#$# so help me God I will @$#%#$ rip them from @$#%#$ to a hole in the ground.

Rage is now fueling my atrophied leg muscles to move at an ungodly rate of speed. Just as I am approaching the sound barrier, Blonde Butthead's mother pulls out of her drive way and sees me, giving me her friendly neighbor wave. I wave back, smiling, while gritting my teeth, and thinking to myself,

You won't be quite so friendly after you find out at bath time tonight that your son is now sporting two a-holes. His regular one and the new one I'm about to rip him.

I am across the street from the house where the boys are playing and they see that my son is sitting on his bike in the drive, but still don't notice me. Here comes Blonde Butthead, doing his best big fat white middle-aged woman, wearing her mu-mu with gravy stains down the front, a cigarette in one hand and the telephone in the other, with the pink Styrofoam curlers drooping from her head impression, thinking he's somebody. I hear him start running his mouth --- can't make out what he's saying --- and then I unleash.

WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? ARE WE GONNA DO THIS? ARE WE GONNA DO THIS? ARE. WE. GONNA. DO. THIS?

Schnot Brother #1: Before you call my son not cool, let me wish you good luck getting laid with the schnot and the fire engine red hair. Women just love it. The day you harness your schnot's uncanny ability to run in a perpetual stream into your mouth and the day you focus on your personal hygiene enough to not lick said schnot from your face is the day you might have a chance to get lucky with a member of the opposite sex; however, if you wanna see what your life will PROBABLY turn out like, you might wanna Google this guy

The resemblance is uncanny, no?

or this guy

All you need are a pair of mirrored sunglasses, a fake badge, a gun, and a mediocre TV show

Schnot Brother #2: See above.

Blonde Buttface: You might wanna ask your mother to start you on some growth hormone therapy because most women like a man who stands past their boobs. You may also want to skip on down to the CVS and pick up some Clairol 65 and darken up that wig of yours. With a head of hair like that you look like a transgendered hermaphrodite. I don't know what you are, but what am I? Exactly.

And to all of you, the next time I hear you say one mean thing to my son, I'm going to catch you, bring you to my house, and slam your teeny tiny nut sacks in my front door. Until they fall off. Then I'm going to pick your nut sacks off my living floor, put them in my freezer, and leave them there until Christmas. Then I'm going to take your nut sacks out of the freezer and hang them on my tree. Then I'm going to invite you over to look at your nut sacks nestled between the bubble lights and tinsel. Then you will weep for your lost manhood. Then I will cackle a maniacal laugh like the whack job I am.

Are we clear? Blank stares. ARE WE CLEAR? Indiscernible affirmative nodding.

And then I wake from my daydream a**-kicking montage. If only ... a mother can always dream, hmm?

I actually did go over there, I did ask them if we were gonna do this when Blonde Buttface started flapping his gums, and then I asked them why they were calling him names, and when they launched into their weak denials, I just started shouting nonsense words DOBEE, DAH, ZP, ZP, LADNA, DODEE to get them to shush and I told them they should be ashamed of themselves for talking to someone that way and that it hurt my heart and my son's heart and that next time I heard they were speaking to anyone like that I was calling their mothers.

Lame? Absolutely. But they are children. Evil ones. But still children.

What is the worst thing someone has done to your kid? What did you do? What was the worse thing someone did to you as a kid? What did you do? Do you think castration is too harsh of a punishment for calling someone fat? Give me all your opinions and more POST IT IN THE COMMENTS!

SFTC PRESENTS - SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY - UNSIGHTLY BIRTHMARK EDITION

Welcome to SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY, where my followers create stories based on a picture from our good friends over at People of Wal-mart. In addition, the most laugh-worthy submissions will have their blog, with their comments, featured in my next SPEAKING FROM THE LIBRARY post. Winners will be selected by my unbiased spouse. Let's begin:

LAST WEEK'S POST:
DO THESE PANTS LOOK TOO TIGHT?

The nominees are:

Moooooog35 at Mental Poo

If wearing super tight overalls while bagging at Walmart is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

Panic grips Jimmy as he realizes that he's left his mullet at home.

Leigh at Leigh vs Laundry

Wanted: The Overall Bandit
Wanted for: Stealing Miley Cyrus's outfit
Last seen: At Walmart buying ball cream

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom

Though Hans had escaped a life of torture and folk songs at the Von Trapp compound, he had grown strangely attached to the uniform.

AND THE WINNER IS

Scoman at a name in your recollection

And so he was left with a "Sophie's Choice". Return the cigarettes, return the alcohol, or return the legs of his overalls.

THIS WEEK'S POST
CAN YOU REALLY SEE MY BELLY
WHEN I WEAR THIS SHIRT?

Sheila could lose all the weight that she wanted, but outside of laser surgery, nothing was going to get rid of that unsightly birth mark behind her left knee.

PLEASE POST YOUR STORY ABOUT THIS PICTURE IN THE COMMENTS!

Help me visit your blog! Help me be YOUR follower! Please post a comment to let me know you were here, even if it is only I WAS HERE or NEW FOLLOWER so I can be sure to return the favor and follow you!

I'M REALLY NOT BRAGGING --- CAN I HELP IT IF I AM THE MOST POPULAR BLOG EVER WRITTEN? NO I CAN'T. IT'S A GIFT. SO DON'T BE A HATER, BE A FOLLOWER

I have awesome followers and they have been showering me with more awards than you can shake a bloody piece of foreskin at (remember, the dust bunnies, and the bris? if not, go here). Thank you to the wonderful group of bloggers who have given me these awards - these are truly the top of the crib blogs, so go check these blogs out (and blindly follow).

For those of you who have tripped up the steps with me to the podium, you know that I never share or follow the rules for the awards, I just give them out. I have so many great blogs to choose from, it will be hard, but I am going to limit it to one or two blogs per award because all the hyperlinking is making me lose touch with reality. I'm also going to be giving them out to newer blogs (or at least new-to-me blogs) because these things kind of run in cycles if we don't, hmm?

AWESOME GIRL AWARD given by Leigh at Leigh vs Laundry and Mesina at and then there was me, who writes,

Not only is this chick awesome, she's freaking hilarious and I just adore her blog. Just pop over there and read any post, you'll soon join the masses of fans she's collecting over there! She's also just a lovely lady, who's loyal to her followers and stops by to visit others often. On top of that you'll laugh till you can't laugh no mo! Thanks Mesina!

I give the award to

Olga at Twinspirational Runner She is an inspiration to all who read her and an overall awesome girl.

GREAT READ AWARD given by Modern Mom at How to Survive Life in the Suburbs, who writes,

I will pass on this little lovely to Speaking From The Crib because who doesn't want to know more about her!! Holy cow is she funny!! Thanks Modern Mom! You're pretty good yourself!


I give the award to

I Wonder Wye. Her posts never fail to be highly entertaining, including lists of strange and unusual obituaries. This girl is truly right up my alley.

Coach Dayne at Coach Your Mind I have only read ONE post from this guy, and I am HOOKED. Go there asap and read his post You Never Know.

LOVE YA AWARD given by Lee the Hotflash Queen at Hormones, Headaches, and Hotflashes, 2 Toddlers and Me, Batcrap Crazy, and Momma Such at RaisingMy4Sons who writes,

I have to add that if you have not yet visited this blog you really MUST, unless of course you do not like a good laugh! She is hilarious, and always makes me laugh! Thanks Momma!


I give this award to

Alice at Alice in Wonderland. A whimsical and sweet read written by a whimsical and sweet gal.

ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD given by Olga at Twinspirational Runner, Betty at Cut and Dry, Marlie at Marlie and Me, Vicki at Frugal Mom Knows Best who writes,

Oh, gosh. Even though she DOES NOT NEED any more bloggie lovin'-I'm not being mean, just check out her post titled "I'm really not bragging, can I help it if I am the most popular blog ever written?" you will see what I mean. I love it, she makes me laugh, thus the award! I love each and everyone of my awards! There can never be enough! Thanks lady!

and Grissell at stay at home mom who knew who writes,

First I would LOVE to hand out to my pal @ speaking from the crib ! She is freakn fantastic, funny, politically INCORRECT, fearless and did I say funny. You must check her out you won't be disappointed I guarantee it. THANKS GRISSELL! Can't get the italics to stop, so ...

I give the award to

Mrs. Montoya at One Foot in Front of the Other a really sweet lady, mother, and wife, and truly inspirational writer.

Tori at I'm not in Kalamazoo anymore another super sweet gal, with witty and readable posts, that I always read top to bottom.

HONEST SCRAP AWARD given by Kyslp at Stir Fry Awesomeness and One Sassy girl at Hot Piece of Sass

who writes, she ain't no mommy blogger people. She's 100% funny. You're kinda good too Sassy!

I give the award to

Scoman at a name in your recollection. According to him, he's satisfied with his number of followers --- sorry Scoman, this may bring you more, but I have to share you with the world. He posts twice a week, but they are worth the wait!

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom This blogger is a pistol. I mean, look at the name of the blog! If you can't get your laugh on here, then you take yourself, your life, and your causes, far too seriously.

MY COMMENTS ROCK AWARD given by Kyslp at Stir Fry Awesomeness

I give the award to

Mooooog35 at Mental Poo His comments never fail to amuse me. Ever.

SUPER COMMENTS AWARD given by Leigh at Leigh vs Laundry


I give the award to

Hillbilly Duhn over at Hillbilly Duhn's Trials and Tribulations Her comments are never short in length or content and I love that she chooses to share so much with me.

OVER THE TOP AWARD given by crazy baby mama and Charisse and Holly at live laugh latte
I give the award to

Chief at (Hiding from the Kids) She is also my TOP BLOG OF THE WEEK so be sure to check her out at the RHS of my blog.

J'ADORE TIEN AWARD given by Leigh at Leigh vs Laundry

I give the award to

Just Playin' at Mathy, Techy, Artsy, Fartsy This blogger is not only one of my fav followers, she also writes a good blog post. Simple and translatable, she is a delight to read.

Finally

YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE AWARD given by Alice at Alice in Wonderland


I give the award to

Jill at HurstBurst who I know in real life --- she just spent yesterday afternoon with me (was that awesome or what?) who I have awarded before, but she wrote the MOST AMAZING POST titled, Jesus Had 12 Followers Too and it touched my heart so much, I had to share it with all of you.

Now, just so you know, it took me FOUR HOURS to write this post. FOUR HOURS! You're lucky my daughter napped extra long today! I hope you appreciate it and I do hope in all sincerity that you follow these blogs and tell them I sent you, because these are good peeps.