Weekend Pictoral.

The snow on Saturday didn't stick around long, but it stayed long enough Snaggle had to be carried outside to do his business. He has no idea he was a stray and we saved him. In fact, I'm quite certain he thinks he's doing US a favor by living here.



On Saturday night, a small group of folks came over to the house to wish Apes a happy birthday.

We can always count on Pat to bring the fun.



The night's entertainment was a dice game called Left, Right, Center.

Each player starts with $3. You roll 3 dice. If you roll an L, you pass a dollar to the person on your left. An R means your dollar goes to your right. The letter C requires you put a dollar in the center and a black dot allows you to keep your money.

You're out of the game if you have no more money. The winner keeps the pot in the center.

It looks something like this:



I was on an early roll!



However, Pat took all our monies and won the pot.



I love this picture simply because Kevin and April are the only two who appear to have a clue the moment is being preserved.



As is custom at our parties, the leg wrestling portion of the evening was not left out.

To leg wrestle, start like this:



On the count of 3, you each lift your inside leg, hook legs and try to flip the other person over.

Like this:



April flipped every single challenger in seconds.

Teo:



Michael:



Relda (not pictured).

Kevin:



And everyone thinks I'M the brute!

We made nearly each and every guest traipse up to our bedroom and admire our new bedroom suit. They weren't allowed to leave until they sufficiently ooohed and awwed over the furniture that took us six months to pick out.

I realized I haven't shown ya'll yet! Here it is:







Hope you all are having a good day! I bought two of April's gifts today and already have them wrapped and under the tree.

Santa ain't got nuthin' no me!

'Tis the Season

I LOVE CHRISTMAS.

I have six huge plastic boxes to prove it. Just ask Apes. She'll be happy to tell you how excited she was to lose half the shed to ornaments, stuffed snow men, and the like.

At least I don't have a plastic manger scene to set up in the yard.

One of those would never work. We'd have dogs peeing on the baby Jesus and that just seems all kinda wrong.

We got our tree last night and it's perfect (thank you Lion's Club on Route 3).

Here's the view from outside the house:



Inside (this is now my favorite room):



We spent the morning doing some arts and crafts...personalizing the dog's stockings :)

Stewart's:



Snaggle's:



Jean Paul's:



Rosie's:



Probably my favorite Christmas decoration in the house comes courtesy of April's dad, who was nicknamed Wink. Unfortunately, Wink is no longer with us, but April was able to rescue his favorite Christmas tree.

I think you'll appreciate it as much as I do. Particularly since Wink loved a good glass of vino.

Introducing Wink's tree:



PS: IT'S SNOWING HERE!

You should see me. I'm like a kid. Okay, I'm more of a kid than normal.

It's HER DAY!

Today is Ape's birthday!

Wish her well, will ya?

I've enjoyed celebrating her every year and try to remember to do it every single day.

What's a birthday celebration without a little Aponex?

We gave Stewart, the big dog, a bath recently and he began running around the house like we shot him full of narcotics.

"Wow," Ape's gushed, watching Stew root around in the couch. "He's awfully sprite!"

"What?"

"Stewart. He's sprite after his bath. I wonder why dogs get that way."

"SPRY. He's SPRY. Not SPRITE."

"Oh."

Happy Birthday Apes. I love you and your jacked up phrases.

Holding It.

Who knew my last post about aging (without the slightest hint of grace) would touch a nerve in so many people?!

Thanks to everyone who forwarded the post and left a comment. Ya'll crack me up.

Here's what I've pondered most of today...

Why in God's name do I insist on waiting to go to the bathroom until I hurt so much that I'm certain my bladder is hanging out of my "down-there" parts?

I'm a big girl. I know where the bathroom is.

I can feel and acknowledge the tiny twinge that indicates I've fully digested my two liters of Diet Coke.

But I choose to ignore the signs.

Rather than act like an adult and take care of my business, I allow myself to become distracted as the pain grows, requiring me to clamp my legs together as if my life depends on no air seeping through.

My feet tap, I hum, swivel in my chair and only after I'm certain I can't possibly walk to the bathroom, do I even attempt it.

Why?

*she says, crawling to the bathroom*

I is Old.

I'm old. You want to know how I know?

Because I no longer roll my eyes when people say "time sure does fly, the older you get."

Now I just shake my head furiously in agreement.

I fear large groups of teenagers, like the one on my flight yesterday afternoon. All the girls had 4,321 bobby pins in their hair and sported matching lip gloss. Beyond frightening.

I caught myself driving a few miles BELOW the speed limit last week. Who AM I?

I'm old.

Swear on my life, I stabbed myself under a fingernail with a pen two days ago and I actually yelled, "JIMMINY CHRISTMAS!"

Um. WHAT?

In my youthful days, the F-bomb would have been appropriate.

I'm sitting here, at my computer, blogging as an Icy Hot back patch works it's magic.

Need I say more?

Suddenly I'm overcome with a desire to watch Golden Girls reruns....they make old sexy.

Shameful. We Are Shameful.

I can't believe I'm going to post these photos from last night's White Trash Party.

In fact, I'm betting most of my friends will likely kill me and never hang out with me again once they realize I'm really sharing these atrocities with the world.

If I come out of this friendless, ya'll owe me.

Here's April's concrete interpretation of white trash...



MJ trashin' it up like no one's business...(I think we had to bury the tube of red lipstick...)



Apes and I throwing the "W" hand signal....you know, for White Trash (Yeah. We're not cool. We know and still don't care).



The group pre-partying at Pat's. I'm ashamed to say we were all very proud of ourselves.



I want to pee myself every time I see the overly dramatic picture of Pat.



So my "W" hand signal is an "M". I'm supposed to be white trash, not a genius. How cute is Michael?



The party decorations and food were awesome.





MJ putting in her grill.



People should have been notified before the party that they'd need special eye ware in order to look at my blue eyeshadow.



Kevin and Michael, our hosts.



Heidi and I. So, it's not until I started to pull this blog together that I realized I made this obnoxious face all night long...



Subjecting Janette to my thug face.





MJ - totally busted drinking boxed wine. BUSTED.



We had an awesome time last night and even more fun today!

What could be more fun?

Welp, we're hosting a high heel race (for men and women) - to benefit the local SPCA. Today, we all gathered to make a hysterical training video.

I laughed so hard it felt like exercise.

Apes is editing the tape and I'll be sure to post it!