Rainbows and Butterflies ( . . . and flies)

I'm trying to clean out my draft box so I think I'm going to post the action shots of my MIL swatting flies today.

It's not because I miss my MIL. It's because I miss poking my MIL in the eye. I miss being a wolf in sheep's clothing and cooing softly in her ear, "Oh my, what big eyes you have."

And then pouncing on her with my camera and my evil-mad-scientist cackle, "The better to poke you with my dear!"

I do kinda miss the good ole days when they were here--especially the good old days when they were here yet they weren't here, (if you catch my drift). I'm talking about the days when they moved out and stayed in an enchanted beach house full of rainbows and butterflies.

I'm not over-exaggerating, peeps. This was their view of them.

My hub and I would go to the enchanted beach house every day for lunch just to sit and watch the waves hula dance and the butterflies hula prance under the rainbows until we were sufficiently mesmorized.

Once we were under (the spell), my MIL would begin spinning stories over Subway sandwiches about their latest encounters with the rainbows and the butterfies.

I had no idea rainbows came in so many shapes and sizes--double wide load, extra thick and creamy, crisp and clean w/no caffeine.

One time my ILs were walking on the beach and they followed the rainbow all the way to the end. They actually found the end of the rainbow. And guess what was waiting there for them?

Nothing. NO pot of gold.

It was just them (and a girl in a bikini with the tighest abs they'd ever seen). The rainbow stopped right at their feet.

"WE are the pot of gold!" My MIL exclaimed.

I almost choked on my cold cut combo when she broke the news.

There was only one problem with their charmed life.

The flies.

They say there is a fly in every ointment, and their ointment was no exception.

In fact, the only thing I ever saw them fist fight over was who who moved the fly swatter.

Honest to pete, they would get rough and tumble over it.

But I have to hand it to my MIL for how feircely protective she is of her husband. If a fly landed on him my MIL would grab that fly swatter and whack-a-mole the living life right out of it/him.

Do you want to see what it looked like?

First you must imagine this window sil as my FIL's face.

Scroll through that again at super-sonic speed.

Now scroll through it at super-sonic-speed while listening to track 49, Point of Extinction.

Now drink a Code Red Mountain Dew, then scroll through it again at super-sonic-speed while listening to track 49.

Trippy, huh!?

P.S. check out The Magic Quilt for the latest entry. All this magic is making me excited! And I do nice things when I'm excited so keep sending your entries.

This is not a post! This is self defense!

When I told the Old Boat Guy that I was cured of my HTML disorder, you know what he said?

"You'll never be cured. You're addicted!"

How rude!


Well here's me thumbing my nose at you, OBG!

Notice the seat is UP. (Clearly not MY throne.)

But fo' real, my favorite OBG has entered his boat in a beauty pageant--Miss Elegant Thang, or something something.

I was thinking she needs a great name to represent her. Something elegant, yet ironical (as my husband always says).

I'd like to nomiate . . .

Will anyone second the motion?

Anyone? Anyone?

And hey, go read Sandi's contribution to The Magic Quilt. It's beautiful.

And Tu Tu's having a Great Aloha Give-away. (I like her blog).

And Emily (my blood relative, thank you very much) is teaching us how to make cute valentine banners (if you're krafty like that).

And Wesley's mom, (Sue Ann) has a fun love song guessing game going on. Check it out.

And please go poke Kristina P in the eye. She's selling the ShamWOW now and she's been caught in the act of PDS--public display of snuggi. I think it's a disease, peeps.

And check out this Heelarious little video clip at In Time Out's blog. She calls it hilary ous. It's worth the watch, peeps. I'm going to go follow her while I'm there. Wanna come?

Got Skillz!

So I just got me some serious new photog/blog skillz which I am dying to show off (in a Braggedy Ann sort of way).

And since I spent the last few days in town watching my daughter lose both her state soccer games I will now exhibit my new skillz less through my amazing Jack Johnson and more through my amazing daughter.

But first, if I were an impressionist this is how I would paint what Hawaii looks like from my Santa Fe window as I'm driving to my daughter's soccer game:



And if I were a cubist . . .



And if I were a swirlist, this is what why daughter's soccer field would look like cubed then squared then swirled:



And if I were a realist . . .



Now for my amazing daughter . . .



Here's what she would look like if she played soccer during the early twentieth century.



And here's what she would look like if she were playing soccer in the mid twentieth century:







And here's what she would look like if she were playing soccer in the early twenty first century.





And here's what she would look like if her team didn't have enough uniforms so she had to exchange shorts publicly every time she subbed in.

Grab your reading glasses and a Code Red

Seriously, go grab a Code Red because my kids think this post is going to crash and burn!

(Get it . . . crash and burn!)

(And it will very likely self destruct in 24 hours.)


Pay attention to the fine print because I learned a new skill today.


Remember when I had the best day ever thanks to Jack Johnson?

And remember how weird he acted when I asked him about Curious George and the man with the yellow hat?

And remember how we became best friends and I then I realized that famous people are people too so I made a vow never to post photos of him again?

Well I lied.

We didn't really become best friends.

And I'm going to post more photos.

But in my defense, the photos were taken accidentally.

I kid you not.

He and his lovely cool-cat wife and his super cute l'il boys just happened to sit down right in front of me at my daughter's soccer game today so how could I NOT accidentally take photos of him, huh? huh? huh?

When the universe sets up a photo op, you don't ask why, peeps!

So after sitting behind JJ and his LC-C wife and SC L'il boys, I learned a thing or two that might not be common knowledge, like who he eats bananas with and who he voted for. Oh, and where he gets his special powers.

So why not share?

First:

I think he should hire me to shoot his next 3-D album cover.

Second:





Third:


The man with the yellow hat is alive and well:


And finally (and most importantly):



(Now if that doesn't get me at least one more vote for BEST HUMOR BLOG I don't know what will.)

P.S. It's April's birthday today. Let's to cover her blog with streamers! Happy Birthday April!! LY!!

Oh wait, it's T's birthday too!(belated) And Shelle's anniversary. PaRtAy! LY T!! LY Shelle!!

Cover Your Eyes!

You know how your body is a temple?

And you know how modesty is next to godesty?







Well what do you do when you catch your temple DPN (displaying public nudity)?

Seriously, my temple is stark naked right now!

I mean she's just sitting there in her birthday suit.

And it's not even her birthday.



(It must be kind of liberating just sitting around in your birthday suit when it's not even your birthday.)



Should we throw her a birthday party so no one thinks she's . . . uh . . . naked for no reason?



Okay, but cover your eyes first. . .




Happy Birthday Hawaii Temple!




You look really good for your age.