Take Me Out To the Ball Game? Not Before Lunch!

Certain songs evoke specific emotions and behaviours in people. It's true. Put on an old Bruce Springsteen ballad, and I'm sure to be driving way over the speed limit, hand surfing as I sing along at the top of my (very out of key) lungs!

Playing a little Marvin Gaye? You know somebody's gonna be gettin' it on.

Back to the 70's...Play a little Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and I'm scrubbing the floors. (Weird, no? But that damned "Our House"? Gets me every time! ) Needless to say, I usually hide that CD till springtime. Oh, and constant reader? Let's just keep that little secret here, safely away from the mountain man's prying eyes, OK? Thanks.

My real weakness song, though....The Star Spangled Banner. Crazy? Yes. But true. Years ago, the only time I ever heard that song was at the beginning of a sporting event, with most of the audience lip-syncing through words they barely knew.

Now? Since 9/11, every single radio station plays that song precisely at noon, as a show of the solidarity of the American people. I'm all for this kind of camaraderie. Really. For the first couple of years, hearing that song would get me all teary eyed. I looked forward to that warm feeling that the people of America were once again united together.

But eventually, I realized I was nothing more than Pavlov's dog. Now, I hear those first notes of The Star Spangled Banner, and before you can sing, "Oh say can you see..." I'm running to grab my lunch. The entire nation is banding together, and all I can think about is , "What did the mountain man pack me for lunch?" (Yea, I know. I'm spoiled that way.)

I'm telling you, it's gotten so bad, I'm afraid to go to a baseball game for fear of attacking the hot dog hawker "by dawn's early light"!

Some how, in my very convoluted, paranoid reasoning, I'm thinking this was the whole plan by Bin Laden from the start. First, a devastating attack. Then, they lull us into a sense of false security and togetherness by plying us with an American anthem. Then, while we are all running for our lunches, our human bodies are replaced with Stepford-like pods.

Time to start building the underground bunker? Maybe. Time to increase mysuestories meds? Definitely. But just to be on the safe side? I'm starting to eat my lunch at 11:30. Somebody has got to be on watch when they come with the pods at noon time!

Again, thanks for reading, dear reader. And don't forget to enter our first mysuestories contest here:

MYSUESTORIES: Mysuestories' Very First Contest!!!

I Will Not Beg! I Will Not Beg!!!!!

OK! This mysuestories contest has been a complete bust so far, ( and while many of you may think anything to do with any hint of boobies is a good thing-this is NOT that kind of bust!! ) this is the bad kind...
As in I have not had even ONE lousy suggestion in the naming of my dearest lap top! Even the Mountain Man hasn't chimed in. (Well, he claimed he submitted a response, but apparently he didn't realize you had to click on the submit button to do so---do ya see what I'm working with here, people?)
Anyway, out of pure self pity and shame, I am extending this same g*ddang contest for yet another week.
Somebody, please!!! Submit a name for dear lappy and put me out of this misery already!
As promised, you can star in your very own personally written by mysuestories tale. Or better yet, I can slander ANY object of your stalkation...

Just please, for the love of all that is bloggy, post a prospective name for my most beloved mysuestories possession.
To catch up on the begining of this sad tale of woe, click here. And post, damn you!

Oh, and dear reader, thanks for reading!

MYSUESTORIES: Mysuestories' Very First Contest!!!


New (and FINAL) winner pick date-----April 17, 2009.

Psst---It's not polite to just lurk in the shadows, you know. I'm just saying!

Chocolate covered Martinis? Almost!

Last week we here at mysuestories manor were fortunate enough to receive a gift fruit basket from Incredible Edibles! (www.incredibleedibles.com )

From Party Time

Truly a work of art, no?

Not only was the fruit delicious (especially the chocolate covered apples!), but the card was priceless....It read:

What do you mean they brought fruit? It was supposed to be Vodka!
Love,
Dear Friends of mysuestories manor

Anyone can send a fruit basket, but it takes a real friend to know you'd rather have a drink!

Feeding Kids in Today's Economy

Why is it that I can spend $150.00 on groceries at noon, only to be told by my kids that there is nothing to eat by four o'clock?
What is it about food that comes with more than two steps in the directions that immediately scares off anyone who has never had to purchase their own food?
My kids would literally starve to death were it not for Hot Pockets and Chef Boy R Dee. And, coincidentally, those items are generally left off my shopping list (Hey, I said I'd have kids. I didn't promise to feed them at the cost of my going bankrupt!)
Matter of fact, I went out of my way today to purchase items I knew they wouldn't eat! And think of the savings! Instead of jarred spaghetti sauce, I bought canned tomatoes. They won't even know what they're for! Frozen waffles for breakfast? Try buying powdered pancake mix. That one will be in my cabinets for months! Heh.
Want orange juice? There's the oranges right there in the fruit bowl, sitting next to the never to be made apple juice!
Want your cold cuts to last longer? Hide 'em in a quiche! Planning on hoarding that package of bonbons you snuck into the house? Put them under some vegetables. They wouldn't dare to touch those!
Yep, I think I may be on to something here. I don't plan on shopping again until the cabinets are bare. Tee hee.
Oh, and tomorrow night's dinner? Linguine with garlic and oil. Just as soon as one of those kids learns how to use a pasta machine!
Who says having kids is all work and no play? Hah!

Something New at Mysuestories

New little tidbit here at mysuestories!!! Click on "In the Kitchen With The Mountain Man" on the right side bar for new receipes weekly......Feedback and ideas welcome at both mysuestories AND In the Kitchen.....
Oh, and constant reader? If, somehow, the Mountain Man gets more followers than mysuestories? Well, let's just say he'd better hide the Ginsu in his kitchen!!!

Thanks for reading... And cooking!

The Killing Fields

It's a bug's life. Cute movie, no? All those teeny weeny, cutesy little bugs joining forces to overcome the big bad bugs and help each other endure. Heart warming? On the screen, yes. On my kitchen counters? Not so much.

Every spring we get a home invasion from the front lines of the ant hills that lie beyond our home's barriers. It lasts only a week or so. As near as I can figure, these ants are a wee bit ahead of their natural "outside" food sources, so they come to us and all our crumbs to tide them over.

Now, I am usually a most welcoming host to house guests, both invited or not. But I have this uncanny primal urge to squash the shit out of anything daring to crawl across MY kitchen, counters or floors not withstanding. In fact, I have been known to scream "Die, Motherf**ker" while squishing the offending insect.

Now, my most adoring protector and slayer of beasts, (ie: the Mountain Man)gets uncharacteristically nervous upon hearing the words of a heathen warrior spill from mysuestories virginal (All right, readers...a little poetic license here, OK?)-where were we? Ah, yes, the not so virginal bugspeak of mysuestories.... I think the Mountain Man's fear is based largely on the fact that a strange, maniacal grin accompanies my banshee cries as I take the invading insect into my death roll....That, and the fact that I may still carry this urge to kill long after the ants retreat!

Anyway, the Mountain Man thought it best to take the matter of the Killing of the Beasts into his own hands. He ran out to our local bug killing galleria and returned with little bait traps that he strategically placed around the battle front.

These traps promised to lure the ants with a food source filled with poison, which, since ants are such helpful, community oriented little bastards, they would then bring back to their nest (read: battle-bunker)and infect the rest of their little commie comrades.

Well, after a few days of sneaking into my kitchen like Rambo with a knife between his teeth, (although I was armed with a paper towel and PMS...I DID wear a bandanna for effect, though!) I did noticed fewer ants running around my house.

Note: I did not say FEWER ants IN my house. Just fewer ants RUNNING. It appears that the ants invading MY home? They're gluttons, much like the rest of mysuestories manor occupants. Apparently, our combat ants eat themselves into a stupor, and then die before ever sharing the poison with the rest of the ant army back at bunker hill.

Great. Now I've got to purchase enough bait to feed the entire f***ing army, ONE. ANT. AT. A. TIME.

While I'm waiting, I'm honing my Sylvester Stallone attack moves and grunts. Oh, and in case it all goes terribly wrong? I'm learning how to stitch myself up with a boar's hair.

What I want, is what EVERY ant ridden American wants....Is for OUR Country to love us, as much as we love RAID!

Game on.

A Mother's Eulogy

Life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away"- anonymous



As anyone who knows me, words have always come easy to me, no matter whether the topic was a silly little story of high school hi-jinx written for the Internet, or a goodbye poem for my dear, sweet cousin Bobby when I was so much younger than today. And yet today, I find myself at a loss for words - which for anyone who knows mysuestories, that never happens.
These, the most important words I may ever write, do not come easily. So I will write what I know, what I can hold not just today on paper, but in my heart forever.

My mother was also a woman of many words. I have her to thank for my love of words, although hers may have been a bit different than mine.
For my Mary, those words were of sharing a love for cooking, crafts, and a love for all things that a mother could only share with her first born daughter. For this sister, today is a great loss of a best friend as well as her mother.
For Donna, many of our mother's words sounded like "You're grounded", as both she AND our mother tested the strengths of family ties as they tread through the teen years. Between this sister and Cousin Karen, it's a wonder she didn't skin them alive some summers. And yet, as both she and our mother learned, these tests only strengthened their love for one another.
For me, I have my love of words, of always thinking I know EVERYTHING about anything, and that as the baby of our family, I could do no wrong.
For MY Dad, there were words of love, and the endurance of a marriage that spanned fifty four years together, and I myself never heard an angry word between them. His loss, today, to me is the only thing that hurts more than my own pain as I write this. Theirs is a love I could only hope to achieve (though it's not for lack of trying-- AND I HAVE BEEN TRYING!)

There are memories of smoke filled Bingo rooms, where we would run around like Indians until threatened to be tied to a chair. Memories of how our mother would buy us our own cards, but you couldn't yell BINGO if you won and were under 18 yrs old.
There were bowling league nights with Aunt Ellen and Uncle Eddie, and more importantly, pizza and chips for dinner as we watched them play as we did our homework on hard plastic chairs.
We spent entire summers on the docks in Baldwin, crabbing and snapper fishing. Mary, getting bit on the toe by a huge crab, and my mother helping her to catch that very crab, where they then followed it to Mary's plate to the dinner table that night!

As kids, we never had to look for where our Christmas presents were hidden. We only had to find her list of all the toys she bought for us. It was ALWAYS in the BINGO bag. Where else?

The New Year's Eve parties every year! Daddy would get a stomach ache for three days before. And Mommy and Aunt Evy ringing in the New year clear through to breakfast, which my Dad ALWAYS lovingly cooked and served them! And I can't imagine she was hungry after all night with Aunt Evy, but she ALWAYS ate that breakfast!

It is fitting that we are gathered here in our family's church today, the church that has become a symbol of our family's life, our baptisms, communions, and confirmations, as well as those of my mother's grandchildren. This place, the start of our family life to this, the passage of our mother into the Kingdom of God.

Like the ripples in a pond, the work of one woman can spread out and touch the lives of many others.---Anonymous

Our mother.
She IS that pond. And we, her family, her husband, her three daughters, her six grandchildren....We are the luckiest ripples that ever were.


I LOVE YOU, MOM. You take my breath away.





'Nuff said. Tomorrow we will return to our regularly scheduled mysuestories.
Oh, and that contest? Winner to be chosen April 8th.
As always, constant reader, thanks for stopping by.