Chocolate hearts to marshmallow Peeps.

Last year I was peeved when I stopped at Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve.  I was looking for small treats and last minute items for the Christmas Eve celebration and for Christmas Day.  To my chagrin, instead of discounted prices on Christmas goods, I was bombarded by an inordinate amount of Valentine's Day paraphernalia.  Inordinate Amount of Valentine's goods being defined as any Valentine's goods, as Christmas hadn't passed, and the Day of Love was still three holidays (Christmas, New Year's, and President's Day) away. 

The point being, I have found myself in that position once again.  Overwhelmed by holiday items, with the featured holiday still hovering far from the foreseeable future.  In case you haven't noticed, the hearts and flowers of Valentine's Day very quickly segued to chocolate bunnies and marshmallow Peeps.

Of course, in the spirit of chocolate love, this is my most beloved time of year.  It's the season of Dove Chocolate Truffle Eggs, candy-coated Cadbury Mini Eggs, and (although not chocolate) brightly colored jelly beans.  And, while I find extreme pleasure in being able to purchase my all-time favorite treats, it sure makes it difficult to remain faithful to my healthy goals.

And what of the official holiday of the month?  Why is it consistently overlooked by the merchandising department?  Why has someone not taken hold of this prime opportunity to celebrate in the traditional Irish way?  I am not satisfied by a single sheet of shamrock stickers.  I won't be content with a shiny, green, plastic bowler hat.  I am disappointed by the towering display of green Jell-o that mocks me from the grocery aisle end cap.

Please, for the love!  Can't someone come up with something (anything) to stave off the Easter displays?  If I can procure Dove Chocolate Truffle Eggs for three months out of the year, it's not gonna be pretty! 

Strange Catch

Strange is what we found in the garage yesterday.  It's not a mouse, it's not a vole, it's not a rat, it isn't even a gopher, but what is it?  The kitty-with-no-name is certainly proud of her conquest.  But I just wish she'd take it away and not leave it out as a trophy for me to step on...  ick!

I'd post a photo so you could submit your guesses, but that's a double ick on the Ickiness Scale. *shudder*

Lucky Me!

I've said it before, I'm a bit of a techno-nerd, still shocking, isn't it?  I like the new gadgets, the upgrades, the latest and greatest.  But my current run-of-luck regarding technology has been a bit of a challenge.  

I don't think I've ever mentioned the high-tech aspects of our home.  To turn on the music, TV, DVD player, or digital photo frames, we are obligated to use a specially formatted remote control.  This specially formatted remote control cost us a fortune ($250 give or take a little) and it runs nearly everything...  At least it's supposed to run everything.  The problem is, our remote should look like this:

But instead, it looks like this...

Why is that a problem?  Because there is a very complex menu system that should be visible on the LCD screen of the remote...  Note the cracked screen--our menu is not so visible with that cracked screen.  And that's the problem.  Actually, it wouldn't be a problem if we hadn't lost the additional (and equally expensive) remote.  But seemingly, we have--or at least had.

Sometime during the holidays we lost our remote.  We tore apart the house, the couches, the beds, the closets, and everything else in an effort to locate that expensive remote...  All this searching seemed to be fruitless, as we remained the owners of only one (very sad looking) remote.  A common refrain has become,

Who has the remote?  And where do you have it?

That remote had become a bit of a nomad...  Being hauled from room to room to perform channel surfing on one TV after another...  It's been a busy piece of technology.

I'd come to the conclusion that we must have inadvertently thrown out our remote with the holiday trash.  It's been an annoying few months...

Thankfully, I think I'm arriving at the end of my techno-tragic streak.  I have officially located all the ringing phones.  If you call, I will answer (assuming I'm home).

I have adapted to talking to both the GPS unit and the hands-free feature of my car.  We are all getting along (with only a limited number of outbursts).

And the best news of all.  I found the remote!  Oh, Happy Day!

Ski Day with The Buddies

I'm not sure how The Mister convinced me...  I must have been experiencing a weak (maybe semi-unconscious)  moment...  But somehow, he did persuade me that seven-year-old triplets and a tow rope seemed like the makings of a fun Saturday afternoon.

Let me just give you a heads-up.  The phrases seven-year-old triplets and tow rope should never be used in the same sentence unless you are describing some new method of parental torture.  Really.  I tried to persuade The Mister that Ski-Wee was the way to go--he had another, more hands-on, approach in mind.

I have to confess that I have done very little skiing in the past few (read 20+) years.  I traded in my skis for a snowboard in '88 and carved down the path of no return.  But even I had to admit that it would be easier to accompany a first-time skier up a tow rope if I were on skis instead of strapped to my board.

So, off we went, up the canyon to Alta.
Home of the skiers--haters of snowboards...

Upon arrival, I was obligated to don a pair of rented (and intensely uncomfortable) ski boots.  My comfy (old) Langs were left at our cabin.  I then strapped on some rented skis.  The Buddies got buckled in as well, and they hit the snow at full tilt.
  

The Buddies spent a lot of time in the following (and similar other) positions...

 

  

The Buddies each had their share of these moments as well...

 

  

 

Lots of hard work?  It sure was.

Worth it?  Yep!

 

Would I do it again?  

Sure, but you better give me a week or so to recover!