I recently came across a recipe for homemade “Febreze” and it was a piece of cake!  I find it to be just as effective as the name brand, but a fraction of the cost.

You’ll need:

• a 32(ish) oz. spray bottle (I just used an empty Febreze bottle)
• 1/8 Cup liquid fabric softener (Downy has some amazing scents!!)
• 2 Tablespoons Baking Soda
• Hot water

Just add the liquid fabric softener and baking soda to the empty bottle, then fill almost to the top with hot water.  Screw the spray apparatus back on and shake thoroughly to mix.

I’ve used this exactly the same as I used Febreze and haven’t noticed any staining at all, and I think the scent lasts longer.

Give it a try!

In lieu of a truly interesting post about my own life, I’ll leave you with a few interesting things I found around the interwebs:

First – I love, love love this post by SingleDadLaughing – he pretty much sums up my exact feelings on the subject in his post I’m Christian Unless You’re Gay.  Please read it.  Even if you ultimately disagree with his view, I think his perspective is exceptionally thought provoking.

On a much lighter note, courtesy of DamnYouAutoCorrect.com – this had my husband and I literally in tears, we were laughing so hard.  You have to try singing it to get the full benefit of the humor:

Admit it… you laughed!!

Daily Survival Tips – via a blackboard and a professor someone in a lab coat, no less.  Makes it feel more legit somehow.

My new favorite recipe site:  Food Gawker links to great recipes, indexed by mouth watering pictures.

Looking for a good book to read?  Try picking one from Stylists article The Best 100 Opening Lines From Books.  

And finally, I’m completely stuck on Adele these days.  If you don’t know who she is, or are not familiar with her music, do yourself a favor and watch this.  I can’t get the video to embed, but it’s worth listening to.  Her voice is rich, complex, and addictive!

SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS
HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
10 MILES

He thinks this is a figment of his imagination and drives on without second thought….
Soon he sees another sign which reads:

SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS
HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
5 MILES

Suddenly he begins to realize that these signs are for real and drives past a third sign saying:

SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS
HOUSE OF PROSTITUTION
NEXT RIGHT

His curiosity gets the better of him and he pulls into the driveway. On the far side of the parking lot is a stone building with a small sign next to the door reading:

SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS

He climbs the steps and rings the bell. The door is answered by a nun in a long black habit who asks, ‘What may we do for you my son?’

He answers, ‘I saw your signs along the highway and was interested in possibly doing business…’

‘Very well my son. Please follow me.’ He is led through many winding passages and is soon quite disoriented. The nun stops at a closed door and tells the man, ‘Please knock on this door.’

He goes in and another nun in a long habit, holding a tin cup answers the door. This nun instructs, ‘Please place $100 in the cup then go through the large wooden door at the end of the hallway.’

He puts $100 in the cup, eagerly trots down the hall and slips through the door pulling it shut behind him

The door locks, and he finds himself back in the parking lot facing another sign:

GO IN PEACE. YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SCREWED BY THE SISTERS OF ST. FRANCIS.

Exhibit A
Late last week, Hubby and I popped into Applebee’s for dinner.  We walked in and waited for a few moments while the hostess greeted the party in front of us, which consisted of a young couple, with the wife holding a car seat carrier with an obviously young infant strapped in. All very normal and run of the mill, until the hostess asked if they wanted a kids menu for the baby. Who could not have been more than 6 months old.

Whaaa?

Now I know it was probably just an automatic response on her part, but I couldn’t help but giggle.  I leaned over to Tim and whispered, “Do they have a new breast milk service we’re not aware of? Perhaps an unadvertised special? Maybe they hire lactating specialists, can you imagine that work station in the kitchen!?!”.

Needless to say we were laughing up a storm over that.

Exhibit B
A few days later, we were watching TV in bed and chatting about the pros and cons of living a significant distance away from family, and I brought up the Amish tradition of Rumspringa, where their teens are allowed to venture forth from the restrictions of Amish life and enjoy modern culture.

Unfortunately, as so often occurs, my brain pulled the wrong word up from my frontal cortex and I instead referred to the tradition as Rumsfeld.

Of course this led to another giggling conversation, imagining Amish teens spending 2 weeks with Donald Rumsfeld. Do you think that would improve or reduce their chances of staying in an Amish Paradise?

Which of course I can’t say without referencing the video classic:

Thank goodness for the absurd.  What would we have to laugh about without it?

No exaggeration here, people.

My husband has had a life-long passion and appreciation for  music of all kinds – it’s one of the first things we connected over when we met. I knew that he played the piano, and although we had one in our early years of marriage, it was often sadly out of tune and therefore under utilized.  So although I knew that he had composed and created music in the past, I hadn’t really heard what he could do until recently.

Well, over the years he has gradually been putting together an awesome, albeit modest home studio – and this past summer I was able to hear for the first time how truly talented he is.

Please, take a moment to click here and listen to his first single: Dreams in the Clouds.  It’s a piano piece – written, performed, and produced by Tim himself.  If you like it, you can download it for your own listening pleasure.

Tim is working on several other pieces and hopes to have a full album available for download soon.  You can stay informed of future releases on his facebook page Bad Fader Productions as well. Be sure to spread the word to friends/family members you think might be interested.

Congratulations Sweetie – I love you and am so incredibly proud!!

Do it!!!

I did that last Friday. Here’s the story:

When I bought coffee from our barista that morning she convinced me to try a piece of pumpkin bread. It was an easy sell. The only problem was that when I got back to my desk it didn’t sound as appealing, so I just set it aside, all wrapped in plastic for later in the day. That afternoon I decided I was ready to enjoy it but determined that I needed a pat of butter to go with it. No problem – our cafeteria sells those little foil wrapped pats of butter for a quarter, so I walked across the hall and purchased one.

Here’s where it gets weird.

The butter was, naturally, refrigerated. And in the back of my mind I was thinking about how it wouldn’t spread easily at all unless I let it sit out and soften. Which I was too impatient to do. I thought all of this in the space of about a second and a half and actually came up with a solution before I’d truly thought it through.

I popped the pat o’butter into my bra.

I think because I’ve stored change, antacids and even my cell phone there on a regular basis, some part of my brain deemed it an acceptable course of action. And truly, I’ve done much stranger things than that, but when I realized what I’d done I was actually moderately chagrined by it. Thankfully I don’t think anyone witnessed this action, and truthfully it worked like a charm. That butter was perfectly soft by the time I got back to my desk.

So really, I’m unsure whether this qualifies as a confession, or if it’s more of a recommendation?

Your call on that one.

Last weekend I spent some time in the mountains near McCall with said women (and their daughters).  We’re talking my grandma, and almost every female descendant that followed, 5 generations worth.

Despite a brief flirt with disaster on Thursday night, when I realized I’d booked everything for the wrong weekend (Gasp! Flush! Faint!), everything turned out providentially, as the cabin we were “bumped” to ended up being just perfect for our needs.  We had beautiful autumn weather the whole weekend and the only in-fighting was among the pre-adolescents.

Some things I discovered:

• I am lousy at building campfires. Really. Seriously. Lousy.
• While others say it was likely a wild dog or raccoon, I am holding firm to the belief that a small black bear stalked us all weekend, tearing up our trash and exorcising its frustration by gouging its claws into the front door.
• Grown women are perfectly capable of staying up half the night, even with a bit of wine and margaritas under their belts.  Although we do still respond like teenagers at the prospect of wild beasties roaming around the cabin.
• There are some seriously good cooks in my family
• My young cousins are awesome kids:

• One is planning on being the Evil Easter Bunny for Halloween this weekend.  She does a wicked, scary impersonation, complete with “You Stole My Eggs” in guttural tones.
• Another 2 young cousins were rockin out to karaoke in the basement and totally reminded me of myself at that age – puttin on shows for the other girls. Feeling everything so intensely.
• There is at least 1 read-a-holic in the fold, and I was excited to have someone to pass along some of my favorite reads from that age

So a friend of mine uploaded the following pic on facebook:

She was commenting on the “Peeps Mo-bile” in the forefront of the picture.

But me?  I was looking at the sign in the background.

To be clear, it’s the sign for “Just Born”, presumably a store for infants.  But my brain interpreted it as “Just Porn”, and I spent a few seconds idly wondered what Peeps had to do with porn before I realized my error.

This is why I should never leave my brain unattended….

Yay for drugs.

In lieu of a witty story, I shall regale you with funnies gleaned from the inter-webs.

Enjoy: