I find myself obsessively checking on my DevArt Page after submitting anything new. Actually, I find myself obsessively checking a lot of things, regardless of their importance or relevance. I have been restraining myself through the extremely fine art of being poor from driving to an apple stand near Holy Hill. I know perfectly well that it isn't fall and yet I want to go nearly every day.

I like this...

I like this new layout. It's calming.

Progress?

I only seem to want to do things that are good for me when there is no possible way to do them. Exercise before work, diet before Thanksgiving... bad timing, both of them.

There has been a slight upswing in effort in recent months. This pleases me, but I still give in to the chocolate brownie ice cream and I still put off going to get my teeth cleaned. Bad Molly. BAD.

Boris the Spider

One of my co-workers noticed a giant (for Wisconsin standards) spider two days ago hanging out on the flip-flop display. Like most people I know, she wasn't planning on making friends with it, and in fact, would rather have never met Boris the spider in the first place. I, being the savior of all scaredy-cat females in my vicinity offered to remove Boris from his adopted home. I nudged him onto my hand and, like I had to do with my pet mice when I was younger, I proceeded to move my hands in the oh-crap-don't-fall-off-while-trying-to-fruitlessly-run-away motion as I carried him outside of the premises and placed him on a bush. I have always saved spiders and most other bugs from being squished, but never before have I been so amused at the response to doing so (mostly because very few people know I save bugs). The previously mentioned "funky" co-worker thanked me kindly for removing the deadly menace, and was clearly relieved, but the front reg girl condemned me for not killing poor, misunderstood Boris. "I don't kill spiders", I told her. The upturned nose and crinkled expression told me she not only didn't understand the sentiment, but thought the life saving expedition qualified me for the nuthouse. The next day the funky one informed me that she had told her boyfriend about Boris and that he made her promise to thank me for not killing the little bugger.
This makes me happy.
Live long and prosper Boris.

Old People

I'm fairly positive that all old people begin to think that everyone they talk to is also old.

Yes Ma'am, I understand how not having your regularly scheduled bowel movement show up on time is rather disconcerting. It bothers me too.
Yes, I am sure some prunes would help with the issue. That's what I do.
Of course I love hearing about how cute your dog is while helping you choose a laxative. Here is my personal favorite!


I love old people.
They make my day so much more amusing. I especially feel a kinship with them when I find myself wanting to yell at some kid to get a job and to appreciate their elders. Or when I want to call them a hippy or tell them to pull up their damn pants already. Or when I get really, really mad at that guy who drives past my apartment at 3AM with his bass turned all the way up.


Oh! By the way, please yell at me to fix the commercial my company plays on your TV more often. I love that one.

Are you scaring me intentionally?

Dear all Health Care Professionals,

Please stop scaring me half to death by calling and leaving me messages that don't give me any idea as to what you are calling about five minutes before you leave for the day. If you call me and ask me to call you back without telling me why, I will assume that I am either dying or am pregnant. I may possibly think that I have a highly contagious disease and I have no way of contacting you for an entire day.

That makes me panic. I am highly practiced at throwing myself into a good fit.

Stop that.

No love,
Photoclerk

Make My Day

compliment guys

These are boys after my own heart. If you think someone has nice hair or pretty eyes or smells good, tell them. Please. I have seem so many people brighten up and tell me that I just made their day because I said they had a unique sense of style or noticed when they got a haircut. I thank people for small kindnesses because I know they didn't have to flip their greeting cards over to make it easier for me to scan them or let someone with one item in front of them in line. They didn't have to, but they did. I am trying to reinforce this behavior by returning the kindness and thanking them genuinely.

Make someone's day.

From Scratch

I just recently had cause to be reminded of the grandparents in my family. My Aunt created a compilation of recipes from both sides of her family a while back and I love that thing. The book even has a cover and binding. Very professional. Many of the recipes are from several generations back- people I’ve never met, but the presents they left me have me singing their praises. These women were geniuses in the kitchen. My Nana still has some of the very carefully hand-written, cards from her grandmother. They come complete with great memories of cold days and a warm gooey cookie or a satisfying stew.

My aunt had perfect timing because I was preparing to move out for the first time and neither my new roommate nor I had much cooking experience (my mother wasn’t fond of messes). I knew how to follow the simple step by step directions recipes offer and I knew some basic techniques so I wouldn’t burn down the building in my first stumbling attempts at fine cuisine. Needless to say we didn’t have a lot of money for mistakes, so I started elaborating on what I already knew. I could do things like boil pasta, sauté veggies and make cake from a box. Slowly I started working in fresh garlic to pasta and adding chopped walnuts to pre-made cookie dough. These were safe and reliable and didn’t strain the budget too much. We ate lots of ramen and drank almost exclusively mountain dew, so a good meal with real nutrients a few times a week was pretty important.

Slowly I graduated to becoming something more of a foodie. Today I made Red Lobster style cheddar biscuits with garlic and oregano butter topping for the first time. I like butter and I LOVE garlic, and if you're anything like me you need to make these.

Baking the biscuits reminded me of how much I loved to help my grandmothers bake as a child. The cookies that came out of those ovens were the Best Cookies Ever. Grandma Cookies. Nothing Beats Grandma Cookies. Nothing. I don’t know how to stress this more. Nothing.

I now have the ability to make Nana’s Chocolate Sugar Cookies and Gramma’s Marmalade-filled Sesame Seed Cookies. I can also make their dinners and appetizers and salads. This cookbook fills me with joy knowing that the amazing food I grew up with won’t die with the creator like so many family traditions are these days. Baking from scratch is almost unheard of to the point that you have to be 80 years old or a food-snob to take the time. Go on, ask the local teenagers if they have ever made bread from scratch. It would be laughable if it wasn't so sad. There’s nothing wrong with boxed cake and refrigerated cookie dough, they just don’t leave as much room for the most important ingredient (other than more butter) as my grandmothers cookies do. Love.