Ape is crawling back out of the hole. Not quite ready to be absolutely ape-y, though.

Hey, last night Mike came in the door from choir practice. First thing, he shouts, Did you know Robby was sitting outside by the front door???

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT????????????????

Pardon me, but Holy Smokes!!!!!!!

Now news like that will wake your liver up. (Probably should be wake up your liver, but sometimes the wrong way just sounds better.)

Here's how it happened. Three minutes earlier a strange man came to the front door. Now, I don't like a strange man coming to the front door -- especially when it's dark outside. So, I'm trying to talk to him through the closed front door, it's glass. Jazzi of course is barking up a storm, so I bend down to scoop her up. The man insists he has important papers he's delivering.

So, I open the door a crack so he can hand me the papers. Dumb, dumb, dumb, I know.

I shut the door and walk back to the kitchen, thumbing through these papers. Then I hear that Mike just pulled in the driveway and he is talking to the man out front.

After that is when Mike comes in and asks his dumbfounding question. He said Jazzi was on the inside and Robby was on the outside, and they sat there staring at each other through the glass.

Apparently, when I opened the door a crack to get those confounded papers, Robby made The Great Escape, I didn't see it AT ALL.

BUT, the GOOD news is that Robby is a perfect doll. That poor baby could have run away, but he sat prim and proper, waiting to be let back in. He is brilliant, I tell you. A whole lot more brilliant than his mother!

We've noticed that the last couple of weeks he seems more interested in escaping, like when I open the door to reach for the mail, or when I let Jazzi out back. Which makes it all the more interesting to me that he decided to stay by the front door and not run away.

THANK YOU, LORD. I was kind of numb for a while after this happened. Especially since I'm the one who typed labels for the doors, WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT LET THE CAT OUT. Which DT-sD thought was extra stupid. So who lets the cat out? Moi. And believe me, the labels weren't intended for moi. They were intended for all the other careless people in the world who wouldn't know if a cat slipped out. Funny how things come back to haunt you.

BJH wants to know what I was saying about Chef Tell in the blog that disappeared two nights ago. BJH, that is an excellent question. I will have to think long and hard. Maybe tomorrow I can try to reconstruct that blog. It won't be the same, that's for sure. I can only hope the second edition will be better, right?

The movie Paris When It Sizzles positively puts me sound asleep every time I watch it (so why do I watch it?). I watched it for the second time tonight in recent history (third time in my whole life), having watched it two weeks ago, mainly so I think I'm getting my money's worth for having it from Netflix for 8 million weeks. Anyway, the second reason I watched it again was so I could see if I accurately quoted Gabriella's comment about going ape. I was close. When she wakes up to a whole other day, she goes ABSOLUTELY ape. I went ahead and made the correction in the original blog about that. But you wouldn't know that, so I decided to enlighten you here and now. But I do love the apartment and the clothes in this movie. Half the fun of a movie to me is a gorgeous apartment and clothes.

Listen, some of the new movies coming out, and television. WHOA! Things are getting more and more awful really really fast. I read things and reviews and Christian activist organizations let me know what's up. Let's all join in praying for our kids. This trash is so available 24/7, so thrown in their faces, that they begin to believe it. It's really Satan's great tool, the sexual, evil modern culture. It makes me so sad. Even some kids raised with Christian values, they can't distinguish right from wrong. The new fad is that what their parents say the Bible says, well, that's open for debate, you know, you can interpret the Bible differently. Really? Like premarital sex is just fine? Really, since when, how do they come up with that? It's the saddest thing ever. They probably want to justify what they see their contemporaries doing on TV shows.

Please do lift up these young people to the Lord, that they would learn to love God and have the strength to say NO! and not be sucked into a vortex of degradation that's just going to bring them down, down, down. Sorry to get on this, but I've suddenly realized that the situation is far worse than I realized. Lord, have mercy on us all. And may we parents truly set a godly example, in word and action. And forgive us, Lord, where we have failed. While I'm at it, the churches could be preaching against sin a whole lot more. My church is a Bible-believing church but you don't hear much about sin. Wow, we need to hear it! Loud and clear. God's mercy is abundant but there seems to be a coddling effect going on, really, there are no morals left, hardly. Anyone who speaks up is going to be unpopular, but so be it. The loving thing to do is warn young people to get off the broad path that leads to destruction and get on that narrow path that leads to life everlasting. Even if they don't want to hear it, they have GOT to hear it. Hopefully and prayerfully it will save them soon.

I take responsibility for this, too. I could be A LOT more serious about my walk with God. I'm one of those where the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak indeed. Watery gruel weak. That's me. Well, this has got to change. I appreciate your prayers, too! God is bringing us to our knees, one way or the other. Our children our too precious not to supplicate the Lord daily and ferverently. And, Lord deliver me from giving lip service but having a heart that is far from God.

Soapbox KEM

This is not fun. I just wrote a very long blog and it did not publish. I cannot find it.

Wait a minute...I have an idea. Nope, idea tanked. I can't believe it, I Googled Chef Tell to see if his name had one "L" or two "L's." And when I came back to my blog, it was gone. This is turrible.

So, now I only have time to tell you one thing, besides that BJH is doing it...going ape!

Here's one little juicy piece of information I forgot to mention from the lady of five hour lunch fame. She commented her daughter gave her a COACH purse for Christmas. I am not making this up. It's true.

Oh, I told you all about Robby and his laser toy and also my Crate and Barrel Shopping trip. I'm gonna cry. Ape disappears in hole and weeps.

KEM PS Chef Tell has two "L's."

The lunch today, where I still didn't have a gift? I rummaged up a gift...from home. My first thought was THE ADORABLE infant-sized pewter heart box, you could fit four of them in the palm of your hand, they'd be perfect for one pair of pearl earrings. This I bought last summer in a Black Mountain gift shop. My sister spotted it and exclaimed, Get that for Cheryl's Valentine's party! My neighbor throws these Valentine parties second to none. But last year was the first year she didn't have it because she works full-time and it was just a little too much. Boy, like we can't all relate to that! She invites her same friends each time, with a new lady or two, because Cheryl has a knack for friends. It's just a ball.

So, I bought the heart box that has beautiful designs stamped and woven all over. This is for that gift exchange where the gifts keep changing hands, like you can swipe someone's gift they chose, if you feel good and ornery and selfish. But watch out, someone can make you miserable, too. I bought it in good faith that Cheryl will spring for the party again. And she is, she said recently she was going to have it and I should invite my sister to come down...which took me about 10 seconds to do that.

Therefore, if I gave the heart box to my friend at lunch, which is so tiny it would take up no space in her house, which is a consideration for someone who never met clutter, I am back to Square One for a Valentine party gift. Which is not where I want to be, especially since I love this heart box so much I am already planning on swiping it back. Really, this gift exchange is like a contest, which gift will be THE gift this year? If no one ooh's and aah's over your gift, you sink into the sofa cushion and act dumb and hope your face isn't too red. There are no names on the gifts. I have been mysterious several times. Once they even discussed who brought a gift and pegged it on a lady who had already gone home. But it was my gift. I never said a word.

One year I took home the cute nightie I brought, marched right home with it. My announcement to the crowd was, It is my anniversary today, I must have this. It was pale pink with little black fuzzy hearts all over it. Just barely fuzzy, like velveteen. You know what I mean. Teensy hearts. I still have it but I never wear it because a strap came loose and I lack the industry to fix it. Seriously, I need my NC girlfriends, CDW and CAE would take pity on me and do all my mending, they are both seamstresses extraordinaire. CDW made DT-sD a little darling white hand-smocked gown as a baby gift, that she hand-smocked herself, for crying out loud! CAE made DT-sD and her little friend matching dresses to wear to church, they were pale blue with pink roses and the trim was pink and white stripes. Oh, boy, she made them matching hats, too. CAE also made doll clothes for DT-sD's baby doll, too cute for words. Wow, I'm so blessed with my friends. Don't you just feel the same way about your friends?

Okay, so somehow, I have no recollection how, but I noticed in my kitchen cupboard where I keep my nicer things that I had this vase I'd never used, with stickers still on it. It's handblown and very sleek and pretty. I had bought three of these to have on hand as gifts, well, I think I was planning on keeping one myself because I liked it so much. It's very slim and a darkish bluish green, just right for a single rose or a couple of daisies. I found it last night by accident.

This, I figured, would be perfect for my friend because her house is sleek and modern. She seemed quite pleased when she opened it and said she never buys herself things like that. I interpreted that in the complimentary way and not the other way you could take it, heh, heh. I felt good because I parted with this vase reluctantly, I liked it so much I wanted to keep it. That's the test for me. I feel good giving gifts that I covet.

So...all worked out well and the lunch lasted a measly FIVE HOURS. I kid you not, we sat and gabbed for 5 straight hours. Mike couldn't even believe it, this was some sort of record. Good grief, it was getting dark when we finally left. But I was rapt at her every word. Her birthday was not today, it was earlier January, but, okay, got it for next year. It's on the calendar already.

Speaking of gifts and friends, a lovely friend gave me a copy of the Mayberry Cookbook for Christmas. I've coveted that cookbook many a time, whenever I see it in country stores or gift shops. But some things you show restraint...just because. I'm so happy. Aunt Bee will guide me into happy dinner land.

Another friend commented on my blog that it's nice someone in the world besides herself has the same thoughts. I like that. That's what this whole blog is all about. It's about the elimination of freaky feelings of isolation. You and I are not alone, the next person has the same thought as we do. I find extreme comfort in that, the companionship and commonness of humanity.

Well, tomorrow is a new day. I want to be like Audrey Hepburn's character in Paris When It Sizzles. When asked about her philosophy of life (or whatever it was), she said, When I wake up each morning and realize there is a whole other day ahead of me, I just go absolutely ape! Now THAT, my friends, is a fine attitude.

Going Ape,
KEM PS It's a good thing we went to Germany, which forced me to buy some new clothes. 'Cause now I have something I can throw on and wear to a 5 hour lunch. Black velveteen pants, so warm and cozy, and purple ribbed turtle neck top, it hugs you so toastily, from Eddie Bauer. YUMMY! I must be on a spree, I normally don't shop this much. The spree had better flee.

Hi. I was noble today and decided to save money by coloring my hair myself. Not to mention it was too late to get an appointment in time for my lunch tomorrow. Not to mention I've had a box of hair color languishing on my bathroom shelf, for, lo, these multiple decades. And just one of these days I'm going to clean out all my bathroom drawers and closet and it will be nice to have one less thing to demoralize me when I do get around to it.

The color on the box said and demonstrated (via picture) Light Brown. Good. But, as we all know, that means nothing. Absolutely less than nothing.

My next concern is the age of the hair color itself, which, although unknown exactly, is no less than ancient. Will I have hair when the process is complete? Or will I have to adapt to the shaved look?

Finally, and worst of all, I wonder where the stray droplets of hair color will land this time. Every time I color my hair, which hasn't happened lately, I am positive I have been so careful in application that it is impossible that any colorful specks went anywhere but on my head, their direct and final destination. HA! Who am I kidding? So, today I am not quite so naive, I am prepared. I just hope the strays don't land on my nice cushy white bathroom rug. Please! In my eyes? NEVER! The wood floor is not a good choice either (hence I didn't remove the white rug, that and indolence). These and a million other undesirable landing spots.

So I glopped all the color on and sat around for 30 minutes reading package inserts and directions that had been littering the bathroom counter, lo, forever. Things like the new thermometer and Blink and Clean Eye Drops and KISS ME Mascara (which is tubes going on your lashes). Umm, I had originally typed Blind and Clean Eye Drops, good grief. I always get my d's and k's reversed. And reading another chapter of How Do I Clean the Moosehead and 99 Other Worthy Housekeeping Questions. Something like that.

Now the buzzer goes off and into the shower we go, where more drops of color can fly, but at least this time they are diluted with HtwoO.

The color itself turned out very monotone and dark brown. In other words, BLAH! and just short of hideous But that's okay because I like drab and boring, I cannot stand highlights, which a couple of hairdressers have pawned off on me, on me. I look like an idiot with highlights. Also, we know that within two washes of the head, the color will automatically lighten from drab to something a little more palatable.

Now I'm drying my hair and there it is! The naughty little drop. And I don't need to tell you where it is. It's squarely in the grout line. We've hashed this out before, how grout has magical properties that suck any airborne particle of naughty, like grease or hair color, right into its greedy little jaws. You know, it would be one thing if grout had the area of the Grand Canyon. It just slays me that a thin line can beckon and all willingly comply, with no resistance whatsoever.

I immediately scoured the speck with toothpaste. Then, since that didn't work, I squirted Tilex, which helped. I scrubbed with the German toothbrush we got on the airplane to Germany. But, it's still there, fainter, but there.

THEN, after thinking, There is always a price to pay for saving money, I found a big bad bloblet of color on the wood floor, over by the wall. I dabbed that up, but now the wood floor has a big bad fat dark brown freckle...for good. The wood floor in the bathroom is a nice honey color, sorta like my hair was supposed to turn out.

How I blogged about this, I'll never know. I'll have to save my pitiful Crate and Barrel story for tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm sorry I didn't buy the adorable honeycomb soaps at Marshall's tonight for my friends birthday present at lunch tomorrow. Her birthday is in January, that is all I know. But I need a gift because she was a doll and gave me a gift on my birthday. I have a one in 31 chance that her birthday is actually tomorrow. It was her idea for lunch but I picked the day.

Yup, I think I'll be flying by Marshall's on my way to this lunch because, really, what do you get the lady who has everything she wants and is the perfect housekeeper (I've blogged about her) and has very high and particular taste if you don't get her adorable honeycomb soaps? Believe me, I tried to find something and I talked myself out of everything. Like I said to myself, I can't get her fancy guest soaps, she probably only uses pump dispensers, because that is neater (even if it's not cuter). And I can't get herAnnie B's Homemade Caramels because she doesn't eat sweets (that's no fun). And I can't get her the cute little purse I got for Crissy because she might carry only COACH (well, she might). This gal doesn't suffer fools gladly (she also has a GREAT personality, I love her). When I got home empty handed, Mike says, It's the thought that counts (meaning, WHY didn't I get her SOMETHING?).

I don't know why I didn't get her something, I was in a daze, a franticky panticky daze. You know me and last second birthday presents! Even though I was looking the night before for this gift, it really counts as the last second because I can only arise early enough tomorrow to allow the exact amount of time I require to get there in just about one piece. And, trust me, that does not include swooping by Marshall's, which is in the direct opposite direction. Because, of course, how do I know if the Marshall's right next to where we are having lunch will have the cute little honeycomb soaps?

Good night, see you tomorrow!

KEM PS The caramels are REALLY good!

Why, since I am reading through the Bible in a year, am I on May 27? Hint, it's not because I started with May 10th on January 1st.

And why, when I have a $100 gift card to Crate and Barrel, can I browse the store for 1.5 hours and find absolutely nothing I want?

And why is Robby's new fishing pole toy, a hot pink and black striped bug, still in one piece? Normally, Robby pulverizes those insects dangling on the string in exquisitely short order. But this black baby with the hot pink eyes and three rubbery strings that pose for legs on each side of the body, so it crawls right creepy-like, has all it's members intact after a week. Although two of the left legs are decidedly shorter than their matching counterparts.

Life is so full of mysterious questions.

Hey, I made tuna salad sandwiches for dinner. I decided to cook like my friend, Miss Orcas. Well, tuna salad is hardly cooking, unless you count I toasted the bread. Still, Miss Orcas can mix all sorts of herbs and spices and nuts and good things together and make instant glorious concoctions. So, this is what I did. Tuna (Robby now gets first dibs at licking the can, then Jazzi gets the rest -- this is only fair, considering). Pepper and marjoram, can't do tuna without marjoram. Bits of onion. Dried cherries, to which I'm now addicted. One little bag is around $8 but they are SUPERIOR. Some kind of seeds, little ones. The seed bag is now in the trash which is now in the curb container which is now in the rain. I think I'll pass on fishing for that one. Oh, btw, glorious rain!!! Thank you, Lord. We have been perilously dry here in St. Pete.

Okay, mayo. Then on toasted bread I spread mango chutney. Slapped all this together and wow, I've turned into Miss Orcas. Well, not quite, but it was fun. And tasty, too! Even texturized. (?)

Have I told you that my dear friend sent me a link, which is now one of my favorites and I use it several times a week. I think I did tell you, but in case you missed it, it's http://www.stilltasty.com/. Yes, I've told you. But, for instance, it came in real handy when I wondered if my mango chutney, opened on Christmas day (2010), was still safely edible. It was, as long as it hadn't sprouted the gray fuzzies or something. It's good for 1 - 2 months. And Christmas was less than a month ago. Made me feel real good.

Speaking of all this, at this New Year's party we attended, we sat around talking about food and ingredients in the dainties we were eating and how long we keep junk in our fridge. This one lady said her grown kids had just raided her fridge and chucked anything with expired dates. My friend was appalled, it was her stuff and as long as it smells and tastes fine, expiration dates be hanged. But her kids went about their business paying no heed to her.

This got me to wondering about the components in her Bisquick sausage cheese balls that I was shooting down the hatch like so many ping pong balls raining down on Mr. Moose. I think she sensed my apprehension and she assured me that the sausage balls ingredients were all brand spanking new. Whew.

But I became violently ill 33 hours later. It wasn't the sausage balls. I think it was the milkshake from a fast food joint in the mall. 'Cause Mike said his milkshake tasted funny, but I'm not one to let a really bad milkshake go to waste. Are you?

I do not have a stomach lined with iron. Mine is more lined with organza or something. So I may never eat out again. I will have to sip tea when I meet friends for lunch. This is a sad state of affairs. Think about it.

Perhaps I can answer my mysterious questions in tomorrow's blog. 'Cause my eyes are burning. 'Cause I fell asleep after 5 AM this AM. I had been going to bed (4 nights in a row) in the near vicinity of midnight, always a few after, of course. Then I fell off the cart and went to bed super late the next 3 nights. Crime doesn't pay. Whenever I go to bed between 4:30 and 5, I feel crummy the next day. Really my curfew is 2 AM, then I can survive.

So, I'm supposed to me in bed by midnight tonight, but it will be 1:00, which is still 4 hours better than 5.

Therefore, I bid you good night. And I guess I'm missing the SOMA 15 additional % off online sale, today only.

Thinking of all the money she just saved,
KEM