Sunday, November 28, 2010

Gobble Gobble

As I sit here with a red indention that is quite possibly permanently embedded in the soft flesh of my stomach from the jeans that magically shrunk over the weekend, I am painfully regretting my final helping of pumpkin cake and gravy which I may or may not have poured on top of my cake as a taste pairing experiment.

It was good.

Speaking of gravy, did you know that giblet gravy has heart pieces in it? Well, at least that's how we do it down here in the South. We also have "dressing" instead of stuffing and we go to the Homecoming Dance with our third cousin as our date.

I digress.

Regardless, we had a great Thanksgiving weekend down at my folks ranch. My husband who hasn't shot a deer since before I was born (age joke) killed a deer. It's too distressing to even speak of it.

Well, I'm not technically speaking...I'm typing.

Disclaimer: PETA, ASPCA, and Pamela Anderson please note that all animals killed in the writing of this blog will be promptly used for sausage, chili and new leather pants. Please do not come to my place of work and throw red paint on me or my coon skin cap.

Anyways, in Buckethead's attempt to bring home the bacon...err....venison, he someone managed blow the tail off a yearling (young deer) in attempt to kill it's mother.

We will be mounting the tail on a Japanese cherry oak plaque and will be hang it next to the jar that holds my husband's foreskin from his circumcision 40 years ago.

That's a joke.

Anyways, we had a great weekend filled with food, family and laughing until our pants split. Although that might have been the dumplings.

I often hear people complain about how spending time with their family can be a chore. I am beyond blessed to be in a family where our time together is a complete blessing. I am so very thankful for having them in my life.

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Monday, November 22, 2010

The Gift

My dad is one of the most giving men in this world. The best part about my Dad is the kind of gift giver he is; the giver that doesn't desire anything in return. Maybe that's why I've been blessed with the gift of RECEIVING. Yes, I am one of the best gift receivers you'll ever meet. Just buy me something and I'll prove it to you. If you need some suggestions, just email me and I'll send you over the Nordstroms catalog.

My dad always taught me when you give, you give when no one sees. That way the only treasure you receive is from God, not man. So normally, I don't deem it fit to brag or boast about charity, however I do find it very neccessary to fall on my knees and thank God for the amazing little man he is growing my step-son into.

Mitch (my 9 y.o. step-son) approached Buckethead a few weeks ago with a burden that was heavy on his heart. With sad eyes, he told his dad he wanted to help the homeless.

When Buckethead asked Mitch what gave him this desire, his response was, "God told me at church and it made me really sad".

Buckethead told Mitch to brainstorm how he would like to help the homeless. Not long after, Mitch came back to his dad and told him he would like to give the $100 he had been saving up this year to the homeless in downtown Dallas.

Buckethead and I agreed to match his one hundred dollars and we spent this past Saturday morning making care packages for the men who line up for a warm bed every evening at Austin Street Shelter. With 40 packages of cookies and $5 gift certificates to McDonalds, Buckethead, Mitch and I headed downtown to follow through with the desire God laid on my precious son's heart.

As I watched him walk towards the line of men, I was reminded of how blessed we are and how we are to use that to be a blessing to others. Soon a crowd surrounded this little boy who said yes to the calling of Jesus. He didn't let his fears deter him from what he needed to do.Instead, he just went to those precious people who had absolutely nothing to give in return and he showed them that they were "inscribed in the palm of God's hand". He gave to them and wanted nothing in return. The gift was the giving.
And as he walked back to the car, I wept. I wept for the lowly and the weak; I wept for those people who did not have a home, a bed or a family; I wept because life sometimes isn't fair. But those tears were also filled with such pride and such love that filled my heart for Mitch. For the heart of a child who loves Jesus and loves the people that Jesus' loves. At 9 years old, his heart was breaking for what breaks our God's heart. It was one of my most cherished moments.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Random Ramblings

Work has been crazy busy. Busy is good. Busy is job security. I had about 10 minutes to myself today and that time was spent in the bathroom stall--must have had bad eggs for breakfast.

Buckethead is singing at the top of his lungs from the shower and I can't concentrate on writing a blog. His last lyrics were, "Nothing rhymes with plethora".

I actually married someone who is weirder than I am.

And has the ability to be just as annoying as me. Is that irony?

I'm not trying to cage Buckethead like a bird who's vocal cords yearn to fly--I just want him to shut up enough for me to be able to write about anything else besides how much he is getting on my nerves right now.

Okay, change of subject. Tip of the Day: Underwear is fun to wear. You can wear it anywhere. If you don't wear underwear, people will begin to stare.

Christmas music is finally being played across the radio waves. The holiday cheer has exploded like Jessica Simpson's thighs and I'm loving it more than she loves the extended Taco Bell hours.

It's funny, I was singing along to "Baby it's Cold Outside" on the commute home from work today and I had an epiphany on the true meaning of the song. Basically, it's some horny guy, blaming the weather and trying to get a girl drunk enough to enjoy his Yule-tide log.

Wait, that sounds a little familiar. If I remember correctly, the first winter I spent with Buckethead he "accidentally" turned on the sprinklers during a freeze thus making the driveway impassible for our cars. Even his 4 wheel drive Range Rover.

Aren't those things meant to go across the Serengeti?

I think he may have even used the line, "Baby it's cold outside".

I made dinner out of a bag tonight.

I'm still hungry.

The Halloween candy is going to be the death of me.

Okay, that's it. Nothing rhymes with plethora.

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Sunday, November 14, 2010

Birthday Buckethead

Friday was Buckethead's birthday. When I asked him what he wanted as a gift he told me he wanted a pony.....or maybe it was a pony ride? That minor detail changes the gift entirely. Ya know what I'm sayin??! Since I found myself going back and forth on what exactly he asked for, I got him socks and underwear instead. Seriously, I bought Buckethead socks and underwear for his birthday. Then I jumped out of a giant cake.


See, not so boring anymore huh? Okay, so maybe that didn't happen. But we did have an amazing birthday weekend celebrating the man who melts my butter. I know I brag on BH probably more than I should and some of you may want to stick your finger down your throat when you read my blog, but I can't help it! I LOVE HIM!

I'm so thankful we were able to celebrate the man who puts his family before himself each and everyday. He knows how to love me and how to lead us as a family. We jump on the opportunity to show him how much he means to us...thus the socks and underwear purchase.
BH and I spent a romantic evening I planned at Stephan Pyles restaurant. It was obviously very fancy as you can tell by the sophisticated way they spelt Steven. I even made the reservations all by myself. Yes, I was proud of myself....I haven't done that since our first date!

We celebrated as a family at Bucca di Peppo where we went around the table and said what we loved about BH. Mitch told us he loved Mark because, "he was a great dresser and good at baseball".

Happy Birthday love of my life! I'm so proud of the man that you are and I think you're really hot, too!

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Sunday, November 7, 2010

Halloween 2010 Pictures

I know, I know. It's a week after Halloween and I'm just now posting the pictures. And I'm fully aware that I've been a little absent lately. It's just that I'm so busy in the real world that frankly, I just haven't had time. My popularity has exploded to just magnitude that they created a Silly Band after me. No seriously, they did. It's purple and you can buy it at Wal-Mart. It's real nice.

Anyways, back to Halloween. After many sleepless nights and much contemplation, I decided to go as myself for Halloween: a Gold Digger. I'm kidding. But, I did go as a Gold Digger. I got all Martha Stewart and made my costume. Buckethead went as "Alan" from The Hangover complete with "Baby Carlos" in tow. (No Mom, do not go rent this movie).

I hope everyone had a great weekend! Now, I'm going to try to convince Buckethead to put on the fat suite and wig for bed tonight.....hey, I thought he looked hot.

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Friday, November 5, 2010

Loving and Being Loved

Buckethead here – JPo’s loving husband and occasional guest blogger. JPo has been extremely busy lately – job, life, and our TiVO is filling up with shows that have to be watched before they get deleted – PRIORITIES PEOPLE! But she misses each and every one of you and wishes she could spend more time with you here in bloggerville.

Today, I’m going to channel my inner Barry Manilow and talk about L-O-V-E. No John Wayne Marlboro Man stuff here – ooeey gooey, Lucy & Ricky, Mickey & Minnie kind of love. Get your Ben & Jerry’s, put on your PJ’s, jump up in the bed, light a candle, and read on!

Do you understand love? In my life, I have known 5 types of love (wait, all you perverts --- don’t jump ahead!!). They are:
(1.) The love of family,
(2.) “puppy love”,
(3.) brotherly love,
(4.) the love of JPo (my wife), and
(5.) the love of God.

They are different, and yet they are the same.

My best friend in the world is G-man. We’ve been best buds since 6th grade. Together, G-man and I have climbed mountains all over the world including Kilimanjaro in Africa. We’ve got each other’s back. I would take a bullet for G-man, and he for me. We share tents together. We pull each other’s finger. We do life together. I love G-man.


My wife is JPo. She excites me like no other person on the face of this earth. You should live in my shoes for a day. Catch her smiling -- it’s intoxicating. Watch her doing a little happy dance at the thought of a fun evening. See her sing in front of the mirror as she get’s ready. Notice her tender heart for others, animals, me – all of life. Listen to her tell a funny story. Let her compliment you. Check out her quirks and funny personality traits. See her in her night gown…okay, that one is only for me! I trust her heart. I crave her. I want to be around her more than anyone. I want to be a great man for her. I want to pursue her. I love JPo.

I don’t think I can interexchange the G-man and JPo descriptions above, although you should see G-man in a night gown! Different.

I choose both of them. I choose them. I choose to love them. Not just because of who they are (which alone would be worthy), not just because they love me (which is the greatest compliment and puts wind in my sails) – but because, I see them both as a gift. A gift from God.

Sorry, but I’ve got to put this in guy terms. I love cars. If I could, I’d own 100 or more. Fast ones, classic ones, off-road ones, luxury ones. I’ve owned some amazing cars: Convertible Porsches, BMW’s, Range Rover, Harley Davidson motorcycle – but my all-time favorite was a candy-apple red 1967 Mustang that I drove in high school. I owned a silver 1967 Mustang GT convertible as an adult, but the candy-apple red one was my favorite.

“Why?” you ask. “Because is was your first?” No – because it was a gift. My first car was purchased, lovingly restored, and given to me by my grandfather, Pop-Pat. Pop-Pat is huge in my life. I miss him daily. He was larger than life in my eyes – capable of doing anything. He was, perhaps, the coolest man I have ever known. And this man, my grand-dad, made me a car. ME! I loved it.

I loved the smell of the car. I loved the sound. I loved the freedom it gave me. It didn’t go fast at first, until I found out my loving grandfather put a governor on the carburetor to limit the speed. Then, upon removal, it went REALLY fast! I made lots of memories in that car – like the time I revved the engine up to peel out in front of my friends – only to blow gasoline all over the engine and catch the car on fire. Don’t worry, after running around and screaming like a 10-year old girl, I put the fire out.

But mostly, I loved the fact I could see the “hands” of my grandfather all over the car. He crafted part of the heater with a Folger’s coffee can. My interior could reach a balmy 206 degrees Fahrenheit in 21 minutes! I loved the car because it was a loving gift from a loving man. I was, in summary, grateful. It was a gift I couldn’t fathom – and the hours spent pain-stakingly crafted – every little detail in love and care for a grandson. I miss my Pop-Pat so much just typing these words.

And this brings me back to love – whether from JPo or G-man: what a gift. And the giver? None other than the Creator of the Universe. To think that God loves me so much to bless me with G-man, or JPo, or others in life – ME! I can’t fathom it – I can only be grateful and return that love, and cherish the gift. Like the Mustang, I see the “hands” of God all over the loved ones in my life. And to think God loves me this much – ME!

These people aren’t perfect – they blow gasoline all over things and catch on fire on occasion – but to me, considering the gift – I love them, and I wouldn’t want anyone else.

Choose to love people – see your loved ones as a gift. You have been blessed with real love – not fake, fading, emotional, fickle worldly love (aka “as seen on TV”), but REAL love. REAL love isn’t perfect, but something wonderful. REAL love can hurt, but it’s oh so worth it. Put yourself out there – love, and be grateful for the “gift” of others in your life. Be thankful you are so loved by the Father.

I close with an excerpt from a great children’s book my Mom read me, and I in turn have read to my kids. The story illustrates that love isn’t a feeling, an emotion, or fading. It’s a process, a choice and a gift.


The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.

But the Skin Horse only smiled.

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Tuesday, November 2, 2010


Have you voted, yet? If not, what are you waiting for?

I did! I called 5 times and voted for Bristol Palin and Jennifer Grey....oh, wait, wrong election. Oops! It's easy to confuse a general election and Dancing With the Stars, right?? RIGHT??!

Anways, go out and vote. Vote Republician; vote Democrat or vote for Pedro! But if you don't vote, you can't complain. And life's not fun if you can't bitch about something.

My motto for the day: "If you can't say something nice about a democrat, come sit next to me!"

Happy Election Day friends!

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