Sneak Attack November

EGADS!  Do you have any idea what day Monday is?  Do you?  DO YOU?!?!?!

Monday is November 1, which means it’s officially the first day of NaNoWriMo.  It kinda snuck up on me.  I kept thinking, “I have loads of time to get ready!  NaNo’s not until after my brother’s wedding!”  Now, however, my brother’s wedding is in the rearview mirror and I kind of feel like a deer in the headlights.

November is coming, you guys.  And it isn’t taking prisoners.

Never fear though.  I have a plan.  I’m going to write a lot, and then I’m going to write some more, and then I’m going to keep writing until my mind gives out or the joints of my fingers do.

Wouldn’t you agree that life is just better when you have a plan?

Have a great weekend everyone, and a spooky Halloween!  You can expect adorable costumed-baby pictures if you check in on Monday!


Seriously, was my brother not the cutest little kid? Look at that grin! In case you're curious, I'm holding my pet rat in my hands in this picture.

By the time you guys read this, Wes and I will either be on a plane or in California.  We’ll be spending the weekend celebrating the marriage of my little brother to his high school sweetheart, and, as such, will be away from computers.

Please join me in congratulating my brother Nick and his fiancée (soon to be wife!) Karen!

Up (or maybe down) A Creek

My oven looks like this, but on the inside.

I miss my oven.  Lo, do I miss my oven.  It broke a month ago, and we’ve since had someone come out to diagnose the problem and recommend a course of action.  A course of action that requires the simple replacement of a part.

A part that no one in the universe has, aside from the direct manufacturer in China.

Wes’ brother, who is a contractor, ordered the part for us from his supplier.  The problem is, the supplier won’t get a shipment of these until the end of November.

All of this wouldn’t be an issue, except for the fact that we’re supposed to host Thanksgiving dinner for my side of the family here.  And they’ll be here well before that elusive part ever shows up.

How in Sam Hill am I going to cook Thanksgiving dinner without a fracking oven?!

We had a good menu planned, too.  A very oven-intensive menu.  I was going to look past the fact that we don’t even have room for all the people who were coming over, and instead just focus on making enough food to distract them from the lack of adequate seating.

Now, though.  Well, I do believe this is what most experts consider being up the creek without a paddle*.  I just keep looking at my oven, trying to turn it on in the futile hope that it will spontaneously decide to get over its malaise and start working again.

Alas, no dice.  The unexpected side effect, however, has been a dearth of baked goods spilling forth from my fruitful oven.  The beginning of fall is always my favorite time to bake, and we can usually expect to gain a few pounds in the month of October thanks to my pumpkin bread, peanut butter cookies, and general love of all things baked and sweet.

This year, though, we’ve been rather subdued in that area.  I’m craving a fresh pumpkin pie like no one’s business, but then again, when am I not craving pumpkin pie?

So that’s the state of affairs of my appliance.  Riveting stuff, I know.

*Wouldn’t it be a good thing to be up a creek without a paddle?  You only really need a paddle when you’re trying to go up-river, but if you’re already up the river, isn’t that kind of a bonus?  You can just float down the river with the current, right?  I guess you might need a paddle to steer, but who says you can’t just dangle a leg out the side of your boat/canoe/kayak to give you a shove in the right direction every one in awhile?**

**Maybe we should amend the saying to be “down the creek without a paddle, with a desperate need to go up the creek”.  It doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as nicely, but I’d venture to say the truth is worth a bit of verbal wrangling.***

***Unless the creek in question is s*** creek, in which case…Ewwww.  I don’t care if you do have a paddle, if you’re up or down s*** creek, I’d say something’s gone horribly wrong.

Hoo Indeed?

Aidan and I were in his music class yesterday, sitting in our place in the semi-circle facing the teacher.  His teacher, whose name is Rebecca, has a collection of noise-making things guaranteed to captivate and enrapture babies.

Some of her favorite noise-makers are stuffed birds (plush stuffed, not taxidermy stuffed. That would be grotesque) that make tweeting noises.  She shows the tweeting bird to each baby, and makes the ASL sign for “bird”, and the babies love it.  In honor of October, she decided the time was ripe to show us what she called her “spooky owl.”

She brought out a stuffed, innocuous-looking owl, and pressed the owl’s midsection to produce not a kid-friendly hoo-hoo sound but a vicious, nigh-monstrous screech of pure rancor and evil.  It literally sounded like someone left a teakettle full of malice on the stove and it was boiling over.

As Rebecca explained to us that she’d originally ordered the owl because she’d hoped to have a hoo-hoo sound to add to her collection of birds.  When it arrived and produced that horrid shriek, she shrugged and gave up on it, though she does still keep it around just so she can tell the story.

The other moms in the class laughed at the story, and as Rebecca squeezed the owl again so we could all take one last listen to the squeal, the other moms all offered up agreeable assertions that the sound was terrible.

Because I lack a proper mind-to-mouth filter, I piped up with, “That is the last sound a rabbit hears before it dies.”

Pure silence accompanied my comment.  I swear even the babies stopped playing with their toys as they regarded the giant crazy lady who makes non sequiturs that make everyone furrow their brows in confusion.

After an interminably long time, Rebecca burst out laughing and shook her head, asking who in the world comes up with something like that.

Who indeed.  Or, should I say, hoo indeed?