Its the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown

Or if not, it's the Great Pumpkin Carving Bash Charlie Brown.

And great it was.

Wow. I haven't been in stitches over conversations in a long time.  Without going into too much detail because this is a PG-13 blog we discuss politics, porn, children, chocolate, the 3 day, food, chocolate, pumpkins, drill bits, chocolate, food, and porn.

I think that covered it.

First let's talk food.  I asked all my scary guests to bring their scariest appetizers.  And there were a few scary items.  One contained bell peppers. Blech!  I made chocolate cupcakes...TWICE.  I had an issue with the first homemade batch that sent me scrambling across the street to QFC to buy cake mix to make a second batch - that was scary.  I put chocolate ganache as the frosting to make it no so scary.

I made Spider Deviled Eggs.  Good times.  And let me tell you, for the first time EVER, I didn't break a single egg white shell. You know how when you're making deviled eggs you get a little aggressive with the whites and sometimes they rip.  Or is it just me? Never mind. They were good.

I don't know this person sitting next to me. Okay it's Blueberry.  We were playing the "see food" photo op game...well okay she was playing.  I was supposed to, but I thought it way funnier if only she did it. That was so witchy of me.

 Back to the food.  Eyeballs anyone? ChickenLady brought these fabulous white bread roll ups with pimiento spread and green olives.  Hello 70's!  They were quite tasty.  For eyeballs anyhow.

The eyeballs later got used as eyes in my pumpkin.  Creative don't ya think? That thing hangin out of its mouth is a tongue or also known as a shrimp.

Back to the food, we had a lot.  I need not say more.  There was a lot. 

I don't know these crazy people who took over my house.

Okay, I know them.  From Left to Righ: Crazy Lori, ChickenLady, Me, Seattle SIL, Mr. Volleyball (the token male), Gypsy Moth, Blueberry, Claudia and Suzanne.  Crazy! The lot of them.

I had all my hats out of the closet and asked each guest to wear one. Crazy Lori came with her own, but everyone was a sport and sported a hat or headband.

  

For the first time every, we had a drill at the pumpkin carving. Claudia gets the prize for not only the most creative carving instrument, but the messiest!  I'll never get all the pumpkin guts off my floor!

She had a very holy pumpkin. I felt like I should have it blessed.

 Oh look ... more food...

 At the end of the night, we had pumpkin guts everywhere, no cut fingers, and some darn creative pumpkins.

Oh and my skel-a-mingos scared away all the bad vibes.

Gypsy Moth's Pumpkin.  Windows with a door. Cute. Clever.

Claudia's Holy Pumpkin...

She cut her pumpkin in half to make it easier to clean...to me it looks like a pumpkin had exploded.

ChickenLady gets BIG KUDOS for free-handing this. 

Blueberry's Masterpiece...

So I have to admit she's related? 

So until next year...you all stay safe, plan ahead for your carving art, and don't take candy from strangers.

Purr More. Hiss Less.

A former co-worker gave me a sticker in the heat of serious work pain, a sticker that said, "Hiss More. Purr Less."  No wait, that's not right, it said, "Purr More. Hiss Less."  Yes, that's it.

I have the sticker up in the office of the new gig.  I find comfort in looking at it daily. It reminds me of two things of which I'm thankful:

1) I no longer work a company with questionable ethics, but still have friends there.

2) I should really Purr More and Hiss Less.

I was thinking about how far I've come since April of this year.  Last year at this time whodathunk I'd have three jobs in 2010. Certainly not me.  I was naively secure in my job and secretly hated it.  I knew I had to move on, but didn't have the courage or time to really do it.  Then it was done for me. 

As it turned out, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. 

A couple of weeks ago I wrote a blog about "Attitude is Everything."  And I've never really felt it as much as I feel it in the current job.  I'm surrounded by people who positive, pleasant attitudes.  Its kinda foreign to me and I keep waiting for the rose colored glasses to come off. But I truly believe this group is all sorts of shades of good attitude.

I'm not naive to think they don't have their issues, because I think issues is what helps drive the good attitude.  Frustration does prevail at times, but it is quickly swept away when you get a thank you from your boss, or better your bosses boss. 

Yesterday, the big boss of the group took the time to come down to my office (now, he could have just been passing by, but I like to believe he took time out of his busy day) and give me a huge thank you for some recent work I had done.  The work I had done wasn't rocket science - and yet it needed to be done.  His thank you will go miles with me.  The simple two little words makes everything I do worthwhile.

Being appreciated is something I've missed. The next 8 months I'm going to lap up all the appreciation calories I can! Which will help me purr more.  A lot more.

Leavenworth

Each year the "men" of our world take off and go "hunting".  Each year said men (fathers, brothers, uncles friends etc) pack their camping gear and head to the mountains for a week (or two) of hunting.  All the while, the "ladies" of the pack would stay home.

Many MANY years ago, the MomUnit and Mrs. Bras-pir would head out for a day trip while the guys were up hunting.  Sometime 5ish years ago us other girls were included and a tradition of a Girl's weekend/week vacation started.   This year, we headed to Leavenworth. 

As with any good vacation we had to have a planning party.  The planning included deciding to take the train, inviting and paying for the MomUnit to join us, doling out responsibilities for the trip (ticket purchaser, hotel purchaser, dinner maker etc).  My only responsibility was to make dinner for the train trip on Friday night.  I can handle that, no prob.

Friday night, October 22
We're all set.  The MomUnit made it to town.  We're packed.  Crab hats at the ready...and we're on our way to Seattle to pick up Seattle SIL.  Almost to Seattle SIL's house and suddenly I remember that I forgot the muffaletts I made for our train dinner. DOH!  No time to head back.  Guess we get Subway.  Far cry from the muffalettas, but still better than what the train would have fed us.

We decided to take the train from Everett for multiple reasons.  It was quick and easy and I highly recommend the train to Leavenworth.  No hassle and cheap!

The MomUnit, Mrs. Bras-pir, Seattle SIL waiting for the train

And here it comes....

Now arriving.....

Whoosh!

The Crab Hats can hardly contain themselves!

And so we were off to Leavenworth. We arrived Friday night around 8:30, took a shuttle to our hotel and promptly pulled out the crab hats for investigation and wear!

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Up at a normal time, we had breakfast in the hotel. Free "breakfast" is always a good thing. While I love going out to breakfast when I'm at home, I kinda prefer to not when I'm on vacation.

On our way into town from the hotel, we walked past a hillside that was being managed by two goats.  Did you know goats had rectangle iris'? I didn't. It was freaky to see this weird eyes looking at me.

They were BaaaaaHd....

Leavenworth, for those non Washingtonians, is a Bavarian village up in the mountains.  It was a logging town that was dying. Then in the 70's some brilliant business man convinced the city council to make it kinda a resort town with a Bavarian/German theme.  And Leavenworth the tourist destination was born.

It's cute. It's quaint. It's some place I'd never live ...although it does have a Starbucks.

We walked the day away going into all the shops and finding little treasures we couldn't possibly live without.  This was one such treasure.

Yes. Yes, I did buy a Flamingo hat.

We lunched at a highly recommended place called King Ludwigs.  German sausage, German potato salad, Sour Kraut (side note: What do you call a grumpy German?  A sour kraut! hahahahah) and some pickled red cabbage for good measure. 

During our day of shopping and walking we decided to take a little horse and carriage ride. Now it has been my experience that typically these rides include a bit of the history about the place.  The driver would usually point out historical landmarks, and tell somewhat true historical stories.  Not the case here.  We did learn, however, where the crazy cat lady of Leavenworth lived.  So I guess it wasn't a total bust.

Sunday, Oct 24, 2010
We were up at the butt crack of dawn (actually the butt crack before dawn) to catch the train at 6AM back into Seattle.  Ugh. We were all tired and none of us slept very well the night before.  We drug ourselves to the train station and hopped on for our trip home.

All in all we had beautiful weather, fantastic food, great conversation and good friends.  What more could you ask for in a weekend?  I will leave you with these last few shots. 

The rest of the photos are here.

A little Neosporin for the soul

Scars! We all have them. Some more than others. Some deep, some superficial, but all of them have a story.

We have scars we can see, like the big one on my left arm. And scars we can’t see, like the heart that’s been broken too many times.

This post is not about the soul scars. There isn’t enough blog space in the world to capture all the scars I have from loves lost, hurt feelings, missing loved ones, etc. I’ll just leave that one alone for today’s posting.

Scars of the other type are interesting little creatures to me. Someone asked me the other day about a scar on my left arm and how I got it. Looking down at the 3 inch scar I was transported into the mid 1980’s when I got the scar. I can tell you what I was doing, where we lived, and how it happened.

Then I started thinking about all my scars. Each one has a story to tell. Some may be only vague because of the alcohol induced experience that resulted in a scar (hypothetically speaking of course). So let’s take a walk down scar lane shall we. It’s close to Halloween, so why not. I promise, no pictures. That would be wrong and gross.

Let’s start with the ankle. On my right inside ankle I have a straight line scar. I have no recollection of this scar, but my mom does. Apparently as an itty bitty baby I wasn’t exactly healthy and almost didn’t make it. The scar was from where they put the IV into me. Or so I’m told. I’ll forever be grateful that I don’t remember that story. I’m sure I would have had the vapors if the doctor had told me where he was going to cut and put the IV.

On my right knee, there’s a little scar from biting it on my bike. When we lived in Landscatter (aka Lancaster) California, we lived by the desert. To put it in perspective, everything was “by the desert” in Landscatter. It was, after all, in the middle of the Mojave desert. Still, as kids we played in the desert All.The. Time. It was safe, relatively. It had bike trails. It had hills on the bike trails. The “hills” screamed for us to ride our bikes fast and attempt to get air. I did too. Once! Thus the scar.

On my left knee there’s a scar from falling off a curb in Squim Washington. The Parental Units decided a family getaway would be fun…in Squim. Mom and I were coming out of a, or rather THE grocery store in Squim and this curb jumped right out in front of me…and I bit it. Tore my favorite jeans too…but thankful it was 1986 and jeans with torn knees were cool. I was finally cool. What wasn’t cool was the blood stain on the jeans…but whatever.

On my left arm there’s that big 3 inch gash from 1980. We were living in Landscatter. The MomUnit, The GrandParentalUnits, my sister and I all lived in a nice, little house (seeing the house years later as an adult I’d say it was more like a matchbook). There were several kids in the neighborhood that I played with. One sunny day us kids were out playing Hide-N-Go-Seek. I found a good hiding place behind this HUGE pine tree that butted up against the brick wall fence. The neighbor’s cat was on top of this brick fence just sitting minding his/her’s own business. What I didn’t know was the neighbor’s dog was behind the fence. He started making a huge ruckus that scared the cat, that then used my left arm to slide down to the ground.

It was a nasty gash too. Gma Spaid cleaned it (that was fun – NOT). She bandaged it. Then she promptly told me I wasn’t going to the movies that afternoon because of the gash(es). I was devastated. I wasn’t able to go to the movies because of a stupid cat.

I should also mention, that the years have been kind to the multiple wounds I had from that cat. There must have been at least 6 little wounds too. If I search and look real hard I can see them.

Still on the topic of my left hand, I have another little itty bitty scar at the base of my pointer finger. This scar is a burn scar. I was cooking Spaghetti-O’s about 5 years ago (What? Don’t all adults still eat Spaghetti-O’s?) that had been cooking in the microwave. As I stirred, some yummy Spaghetti-O juice popped onto my hand and burnt the bejesus out of me.

New to the scar collection on my left hand it my most recent attempt to slice off my thumb while making guacamole. It’s a beauty and it still hurts a little.

Moving over to the right hand. There’s a round-ish scar towards the middle of the back of my hand. Now this one’s a funny story. If only I could remember. I was in college and it was the weekend. I remember that. I remember that we walked down to Circle K to get more cheap beer. I remember reaching into the refrigerator to grab a six pack and somehow one of the bottle caps raked across the top of my hand…cutting a hole in it. Thankfully I didn’t really feel it until the next day.

On the write of my right hand/arm, I have an “L” shaped scar from our old microwave. Blueberry had one of those 4 THOUSAND pound beasts that were among the first ever built. Sturdy thing. And the door latch was sharp. I caught my write on the door latch and scratched up my arm…stupid thing.

The only other scars I know I have that deserve an honorable mention are the hysterectomy scars. They’re small. They’re healed – finally. They remind me all the time that I have my own personal built in heater – every now and then anyhow. Hot flashes are my friend.

So now you know more about me than you EVER wanted to really know.

Sunday Dinner - Frito Lollies

Ah yes, another successful Sunday dinner. I so love that I decided to do this.  Besides getting to see so many of my friends on a regular basis, I get to cook for small armies.  And y'all know how I love to do me some cookin'.

Part of doing Sunday dinners was about comfort food. All the meals that make us feel good. The meals that remind of us the days long ago.  Or in some cases, maybe the food is helping make a new memory. Regardless, I feel connected to my menus each month. This month is no different.

The Sunday Dinner Crew brought to you in retro seventies:

Back row, left to right: Mrs. NotSoNewlyWed, The Cutest Kid Ever, Mr. NotSoNewywed, The Dane

Front Row: Chef Jenn, ChickenLady, Seattle SisterInLaw, Claudia Who Needs a NickName, Blueberry, and BigBro.

Our family tradition is to make Frito-Lollies on Christmas eve.  While I look forward to that very year, and make gasping sounds of disgust if the MomUnit even dares suggest anything but Frito-Lollies on Christmas Eve, I think they are perfect for any cold day.

What are they? Well, they're simple.  Chile, Fritos, and all the trimmings.  Some people call them Pepper Bellies. Others call them Straw Hats.  Regardless what name is put on them, one thing is for certain, "Where the hell did the names come from?"  I mean really? Straw hats?

So you start with Fritos.  Now there was much discussion about the proper way to build your Frito-Lolly, but I am certain MY way is the right way.

Right - so you start with making chili early in the day and you let that chili simmer down until its thick, rich, and full of chili goodness.  You should, hypothetically, though, be sure to not confuse you cayenne pepper with your chili powder. Not that I almost did that...no, not me.

After you've got your chili made, and it's simmered good and long. Call the peeps to the table and explain the proper method of building a Frito-Lollie.

Start with the Fritos.  A nice bed of crunchy-ness on the bottom of the plate.  Filler up.

Once you have your bed of Fritos, next ladle on the chili and don't be shy. Like I said, I made enough for a small army. Note: This photo was early in the chili making yesterday. It sat and cooked, and simmered, and made mad chili flavor for 3 hours.  It was dark, rustic and flavorful. 



Now, here's where the controversy came into play. Some wanted to put the lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, onions and sour cream on the fritos BEFORE ladling on the chili madness.  They were whipped and sent to their rooms without supper.  Folks, tradition says you MUST put that stuff on AFTER the chili.  Fritos, chili, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and onions.  That's the way.  Unless you're Chef Jenn and then you'd leave off the lettuce, tomatoes and onions.  Nothing, but nothing gets between me and my chili.

After you've devoured a plate or two of this, you lay flat and let your stomach stretch. Because for dessert is still to be had.

Chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting. Yes mam.  Pass the expando pants.

I made them last week in a test run and they were so good how could I not make them again.

 

I'm salivating just looking at these photos.  I tried to warn everyone that they were horrible, gross, disgusting cupcakes and no one believed me.

Mmmmm...cupcakes....

Okay, I'll stop now.  I'll stop to lick my fingers! 

Next month I'm toying with chicken pot pie for dinner.  I got two very enthusiastic thumbs up from ChickenLady for that on the menu.  And since she is the ChickenLady, she would know best if Chicken Pot Pie would please the Sunday Dinner Crew. 

2010 Seattle Susan G. Komen 3 Day for the Cure PHOTOS

Finally, I know.  I only had 1000 photos to go through, fix and then resave.  Then I had to upload them ALL to Snapfish so I could later order them. Then I had to pair them down again for Flickr.  Phew! A Walker Stalker / Photographer's work is never done.

But at last, here they are.  And relax, there are only 146 of them - give or take!

This is my favorite photo this year.  I put it in black and white because I felt like it gave so much more to the emotion of the 3 Day.

Bring out your Pink!

Ah…October.  What a lovely month!  October happens to be my favorite month for many reasons.  One because the trees are all changing from their beautiful green to the vibrant oranges, yellows and eventually browns.  There’s a crisp snap in the air every morning that reminds you that its fall.  The smell of wood burning in stoves as the days and nights get slightly cooler.  Ah yes, October, my favorite month.

It’s also my favorite month because the whole world, it seems, stops and recognizes breast cancer.  Pink is everywhere…and I mean everywhere – and no I’m not looking in my closet…In the grocery stores, products supporting breast cancer come out with pink on their boxes, or pink promotions of some sort.  It’s the month where the call to action is PINK and PINK is the word.

There is a small part of me that is afraid that the PINK is overdone a bit and by the amount of awareness that’s out there these days, that people will start glossing over it and, worst, ignoring it.  Still, Pink is in for the month of October.

Of course October is also the month after the 3day. I’m usually still on the 3day high in October, and this year with the Seattle 3Day later, the high is definitely going to pull me through the month of October.

I’ve written a lot about the spirit of the 3day and have tried as best I could to get those of you who haven’t been around it to understand just what a gloriously welcoming and warm and non-judgmental place it is.  It’s like trying to show how impressive the Grand Canyon is by a picture. You don’t get it until you’re standing on its edge and gawking in wonder.  I still gawk in wonder at the 3day. It never ceases to surprise me with the emotion, the love, the joy, and the pain that seeps out of those 3 long, exhausting days. 

I worry that as each year passes that friends and family will hear me talk about the 3Day and roll their eyes and think, “There she goes again.”  For me, I get excited about the 3day even though I am not walking in it.  I still get to be a part of it, and support Team Wraspir with hot dogs, chairs for their weary bones, and comedy (fell down a hill this year and got my butt all muddy, had a sympathy blister for them and whined about it).  I plan for months for the 3Day.  I start thinking immediately following the 3Day what I can do next year (yes, the true PM Goddess in me comes out and I do a little post mortem).  I start seeking pink stuff on sale for next year’s event.  Plan. Reflect. Plan some more. Reflect a whole lot more.

I recently read a blog that talked about the 3Day and really can’t say it any better than this blogger did.

“This one event has given me more hope than any scan result.

On the 3-Day for the Cure you are transported. Transported to a world where the cure is already a reality: a world without death, a world with only hope and love. You are transported from a place of helplessness to a place full of power. From a place of illness to a place of immense strength. From a place of disappointment, to a place of success. Surrounded by the sound of thousands of determined feet, you can't help but feel carried. When you cry, and you will cry, there are thousands of shoulders available for comfort.

Everyone has a story, one is sadder than the next, and you are no longer alone. I also think the sheer length of the walk, three days and 60 miles, makes every interaction more poignant. Like a summer love where two days can feel like two years, friendships formed along the 3-Day for the Cure feel like lifelong bonds after only a few minutes.

And the finish line!

Thousands of women and men line up shoulder to shoulder in their matching victory shirts and form a tunnel through which you are literally carried. When you cross the finish line, bandaged and broken. When you hobble across the finish and think, surely, I cannot move another step. Instead of collapsing, you are greeted by thousands of high fives, deafening cheers, and are rained on by your fellow walker's tears of joy and sorrow. You are lifted up. Your limp is transformed into a confident stride. By being part of something bigger, you feel as though you could easily walk another 60.”

*sniff sniff

Ahem…right…pass the Kleenex

And so, here we are, October – with all its fall colors, of which Pink is one of them now.   I’ll smile just a little more this month as I see people with their pink on, supporting the cause by buying Hamburger Helper for the Cure, I’ll know that people are still very much aware of this deadly disease and how every little bit helps.  From the 3Day raising millions of dollars every year, to the purchasing of “pink” products in the store, with it all, we will find a cure. Of course if we find a cure, I can’t wear pink – but I’d gladly – GLADLY- give up my pink hat/wig/shirt collection.  Gladly!

Well, Life's Like a Road That You Travel On

I find myself sitting in awe of what the heck happened to September.  I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere and I sure can't find it (much like a few batteries - but that's another story).

Maybe the aliens took me and that could account for my lack of memory of an entire month.  I'm sure I got paid, I'm sure I did some work, I'm sure I probably cooked some and I'm sure I took some photos, but I am not sure what, when why, and who.

With September nothing but a vague memory, let's move on into October. I'm going to try to at least remember October.  Try to.

Anyhow, aside from taking photos of this cute kid I spent most the weekend going through the hundreds and hundreds of the 3Day photos.  Eventually I'll have them all done and posted to Flickr for y'all to view. I know you're dying to!  I know you're holding your breath waiting in anticipation of seeing these photos.  It's okay. Admit it! 

In other exciting news, the MomUnit will be here at the end of the month. The male ritual hunting week is coming up and all us girls are heading to Leavenworth,WA for a weekend of German goodness.  I plan on having a few German sausages and perhaps some German beer. 

This coming Sunday is Sunday Dinner. I'll be making my WORLD's FAMOUS Chili!   And by "world's famous" I really mean "World Famous to My World." The weather has turned to the fall crispness here and that means soups, stews, and chili's become part of the menu items.  I can't wait.