In which I once again talk about the weather

Dear Colorado,

If I wanted to live somewhere with sub-zero temperatures and snow-packed roads, I would have stayed in Illinois. Yes, you have those lovely mountains, but what am I supposed to do with them if I (1) can't get to them because you've made the roads treacherous with your snow and ice and such and (2) can't stand to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time?

I know tomorrow is supposed to be a balmy 27 degrees, but at the moment the thermometer is sitting quite firmly just below zero. That's quite enough of this silliness, Colorado. It's time to get serious and raise that temp up to the 30s or 40s. The mountains will still have their snow, and I'll be able to drive to it and enjoy it -- without freezing my butt off.

Thank you and have a nice (I mean it!) day,
Pam

Ha. Ha. You can stop now

When I moved to Colorado nearly 10 years ago (!) I was told how temperate the weather is here, how cool the summers and how mild the winters. "Oh, yes, it snows," they told me, "but it melts off the very next day." Something like 300-plus days of sunshine, they told me. It's mostly warm and dry, they told me.

They forgot to add, "Unless, of course, it isn't." They forgot to mention that the weather will do whatever the hell it wants, whenever it wants, just like every other part of the nation. And it will do it on the days you really need to get stuff done. Yeah, they forgot to tell me that part.

Granted, I wouldn't want to still be living in Central Illinois, where you can go a full month without seeing the sun. But promises were made, people. I expected sunshine. Where's my effing sunshine?

Just get on with it, would you

Come on, weather. Snow or don't snow. This half-hearted stuff is just not cutting it.

I see snow in the air but I think it's just blowing around. And does it really need to be this cold? 18 degrees? Really?

The worst part is I have to go out in it in about 10 minutes. Yuck.

Puppy went home

Ripley was never really sure what to make of the stubby-legged Corgi puppy. In the end, she tolerated him. And after he left, she seemed worried that we had gotten rid of another pet. There's just no reasoning with her.

"I'm going to pretend to not care, but when you're gone, I'll miss you!"
_

Final day

Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo, and I made it. Granted, I posted plenty of photos and random crap. But then, isn't that why you visit my blog?

Don't worry, today will be no exception.

It's also the last day of our adventures in puppy sitting, and I've reached a couple of conclusions. I am not cut out for puppies or babies. I'm too old and impatient. What do you mean you have to go outside at 2 a.m.? What do you mean you can't hold it as long as my 9-year-old dog? Ack! You had an accident! What is wrong with you? (Yes, I have unreasonable expectations. I also expect my own dog to be able to understand why she shouldn't bark at people outside on the street and to speak English.)

Just imagine how I'd be with a human baby. Don't you have a job yet? When do you start school so I can go back to blogging and chatting online?

Now, this isn't to make my dear friend feel bad, because I volunteered freely and with no pressure. I know it would have been easier if I hadn't felt so crappy off and on all weekend. Because despite the pooping and peeing -- and one pretty big (smelly) accident -- I have to admit. He's awfully damn cute.

And, puppy-sitting has not put me off the idea of getting a kitten. Go figure.

Christmas is coming

And I have just two ideas for gifts for the S.O. One is totally practical but fairly pricey. The other is more reasonably priced but not all that practical (although I think it's something he wants). He is nearly impossible to buy for and very rarely gives me good ideas. Strike that. He often gives me good ideas, but one of two things usually happens when he gives me good ideas: (1) The item is so far out of my price range as to be impossible to buy or (2) he buys the item himself two days after giving me the idea. (Do all guys do that?)

If he reads this -- which I doubt he will -- maybe he'll give me some good ideas for Christmas gifts for him. If any of you have any brilliant ideas, let me know.

The title of this post refers to the following poem/nursery rhyme. Mom used to sing it to me as Christmas grew near.

Christmas is coming
The goose is getting fat
Please put a penny in the old man's hat
If you haven't got a penny,
Then a ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny,
Then God bless you

Look! Pie!

For the past few minutes, I was working on a post about how I didn't feel good and WebMD can turn me into a hypochondriac with every condition from the flu to lyme disease. But that post felt whiny and boring. But I have just a few days left of NaBloPoMo and I'm not about to fail now. So look at my beautiful Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie and enjoy the recipe below.

Ingredients

Crust

• 30 small gingersnap cookies (about 7 1/2 ounces)
• 2 tablespoons raisins
• 1 tablespoon canola oil

Filling

• 1 cup canned pumpkin puree
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 pints (4 cups) frozen low-fat vanilla yogurt, softened (see Tip)

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan with cooking spray.
2. To prepare crust: Combine gingersnaps and raisins in a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add oil and pulse until blended. Press evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the prepared pan.
3. Bake the crust until set, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To prepare filling: Combine pumpkin, sugar, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg in a large bowl and mix well. Add ice cream and stir until blended. Spoon the mixture into the cooled pie crust. Freeze until firm, at least 2 hours. Let the pie soften slightly in the refrigerator for 20 to 30 minutes before serving.

• Tip: To soften ice cream quickly, microwave on Medium-Low for 30 to 60 seconds.

Two things

1. Thanksgiving dinner was wonderful. I highly recommend all three of the recipes I tried from EatingWell.com.

2. While Ripley still has no social graces and doesn't really appreciate the wee one visiting, both dogs enjoy our back yard. See? Pictures!

She might not notice if I stay way back here.

Oops! She noticed.

Please be my friend.

Happy Thanksgiving

After yesterday's miserable failure at trying to cook chestnuts, I took a giant chance and bought a new batch from a different store. This morning, I roasted them (cut an X on the flat side of each nut, spread them on a baking sheet and bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes). I'm guessing I got bad nuts the last time because these came out beautifully. Really, this picture doesn't do them justice.

Chestnuts are odd. They taste a bit like bacon, so they should taste good in the Brussels Sprouts. My pumpkin mousse pie also looks lovely. If nothing else, our table will look great. And even if the food ends up tasting less beautiful than it looks, I will still have plenty to be thankful for today.

Things like:
my friends (furry and otherwise)
my family
the S.O. (who counts as both -- friend and family, but not furry)
cheesy SciFi shows
silly video games
laughter
my health
the S.O.'s job
and a beautiful sunny day in which to enjoy the little things in life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Chestnuts roasting on an open FAIL!

I guess I thought I was Martha Stewart, imagining that I could cook my own chestnuts for my Thanksgiving dinner. Silly girl. I followed directions (from a recipe Web site) for roasting them in the oven -- to no avail. I followed the S.O.'s experience with steaming chestnuts -- nope. They are hard little rocks. Not something that will evoke thoughts of home.

So, despite my best efforts to have everything I need for tomorrow's dinner, I have to run back out to the store.

What's on the menu

I'm trying to include some healthier side dishes in our Thanksgiving dinner this year. In addition to turkey and stuffing -- which the S.O. makes and are delicious -- I am making:

• Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts & Sage
• Smashed Spiced Sweet Potatoes
• Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie

(All from EatingWell.com) I'll let you know how they turn out. But they sure sound yummy. No Tofurkey in this house!

Activities on the menu are playing with the S.O.'s new Playstation 3, board games, several episodes of Farscape and playing with Ripley and my dear friend's puppy.

It promises to be a fun day.

Vanity, thy name is Pammeey

For some reason, I got it in my head that I need to whiten my teeth. Honestly, I think it's television and the movies. Have you seen how blindingly white actors' teeth are these days? Whatever the reason, I picked up some teeth whitening strips. (Don't judge me.) Because I'm all about trying to save a buck or two, I bought the Target brand equivalent of the Listerine Whitening Quick Dissolving Strips. I doubt there's much difference and I'm not planning to find out.

I have to wonder if vanity is worth it. The strips are quite sticky, and you aren't careful (and yes, I speak from experience) you will end up with your jaw stuck shut for several minutes while the strips dissolve. And the dissolving process is kind of gross. You'll look a bit like a mad dog for a few minutes.

But once they've dissolved, your mouth will feel minty, then it will feel normal. I'm only on my first day of trying the strips so I can speak to their actual effectiveness. But they're kind of weird.

And it's all for the sake of vanity.

Ripley gets new food

I suppose it's an age thing, but Ripley has recently developed bad doggy gas. Sometimes, she'll run up the stairs and toot. It's kind of cute, because she'll stop and look around, as if to say, "What the heck was that." Not so cute is when she's curled up in my lap (as she is while I type this) and passes gas. At those times, she tries to play it off like nothing happened.

So, in the interest of her well-being and not having to smell dog farts, the S.O. and I took a trip to the pet store to look for a different food. She's been eating Iam's as long as I've had her, but lately it obviously isn't agreeing with her. The new food is a lamb and rice formula that contains no corn or soy. Apparently those two ingredients can mess with doggy digestion. We have to slowly introduce the new food, mixing it with the old, so it'll be at least a week before we know if the new food makes any difference. Let's hope it does.

While at the pet store, I replaced Ripley's old tag with a stylish new one. I usually try to go with more tough stuff, but this was so cute -- and the S.O. picked it out.
I know I've been posting about the dog a lot, but I don't have kids. This is all I have, people.

Ripley helps with laundry

Maybe that should be "helps" with laundry -- and maybe I should also say this isn't voluntary. But it's pretty darn cute.

Resisting temptation

With an early deadline for my test drive next week, I decided to work on it over the weekend. That way next week will be open to just relax and fix the big meal.

I thought it would be easier to get out of the house. So I headed to Barnes & Noble, where there is free WiFi and (of course) Starbucks. The holidays are coming, and Starbucks has its signature holiday lattes on offer -- sticky sweet coffee drinks with a ton of whipped cream on top, like gingerbread latte, peppermint mocha and caramel brulee latte. They all sound and look delicious -- and full of really unnecessary calories. So I resisted and got tea. yum.

No. I love tea. But gingerbread latte? Come on!

UPDATE: I have to add that Starbucks is packed and noisy and not doing much for motivating me to work on this test drive. Also, is it so unusual to see someone typing on a laptop that you have to stare at me?

It Takes a Village

The neighbor's gate malfunctioned yesterday, and her dog was wandering the street in front of my house. Knowing the dog's name, I went out and called to her. When I started toward her, she decided Chase is the funnest game in the whole world and ran from me -- right into the street, with cars coming from both directions. Thankfully, they saw her and stopped. I finally caught her and walked her to the neighbor's house. She wasn't home, so I brought the dog back to my house.

I put her in the back yard, then opened the back door and let her come inside. Ripley and she have met -- the neighbor's daughter has watched Ripley when we go out of town -- but dogs have short memories. So much sniffing and circling ensued. Finally, the neighbor dog decided things were cool and went into the classic Let's-Play stance. Let me pause here to mention the neighbor's dog is a full-grown Black Lab. Ripley, lacking social graces and being endowed with little dog syndrome, mistook Let's-Play for Let's-Fight and got all barky and snappy. It is her house after all.

Back outside went the neighbor's dog, none to happy about it. I spent the next few hours looking out the back window to make sure she didn't pull a Houdini on me and looking out the front window to see if the neighbor had come home. I left messages on her answering machine and a note in the door but I worried she'd see the open gate and panic.

About 4 p.m. the neighbor's next-door neighbor got home, so I talked to her about taking the dog. The S.O. was gone and I had to leave shortly. I just didn't feel comfortable leaving the dog in the back yard alone. This neighbor had watched the dog before so she took her to her house. Later in the evening, I got a phone call from the dog owner:

I understand you found my wayward dog. Thank you for finding her and keeping her. Like I told K, it takes a village. We're working on that gate.

I know I have a prejudice against Labs. They're sweet, beautiful dogs but they also have to be the goofiest creatures on God's green earth. I think it really does take a village with a dog like that.

My dog -- a rat terrier, you know -- is anti-social when it comes to other dogs. She's content to hang out in the sun and soak up the attention of one or two people. Huh. Maybe dogs and their owners really do come to resemble one another.

The Culprit, Part II: Attack of the Inanimate Objects

A while back, I broke my good vegetable peeler. (I was trying to peel thin pieces of cheese for a recipe. It was a tip from a cookbook, so don't judge me.) It was guaranteed, so I knew I could get a new one. In the meantime, I bought a cheap one to use.

Big mistake. This one is like a weapon. Its serrated (!) blade grabs anything that comes near -- peels, dish towels, human skin. I managed to slice a chunk out of my index finger without even trying. I can't even blame slippery turnips for it.












It has a cover on the blade for storage, but even putting the cover on is a dangerous endeavor. It grabbed my thumb like a thistle and took a painful, tiny bite.

I have since received a replacement for the good one, so this vicious thing is going in the trash -- or possibly, hazardous waste.

The culprit

I was all set to write a post about the scary vegetable peeler I bought a few weeks ago -- and will get to that in a minute -- then my dog created a new post for me with the same title. Somehow, she got into the bag of candy I have for my kids at tutoring. As I passed from the bedroom toward my office, I saw her holding something in her front paws and setting to work chewing on it. My first thought was that the S.O. had given her a rawhide bone to chew on so he could sleep in. But we never give her that bone in the morning. So my second thought was that the killer had caught a bird and brought it into the house to devour. Ew. Then I realized it was a Tootsie Pop miniature. She was holding it by the stick and trying to chew the wrapper off. And she'd chosen chocolate. It was pretty cute and I would have gotten a picture if I weren't more concerned about her health and safety.

Bad dog.

Six Words

DOVE Peanut Butter Milk Chocolate PROMISES

Mandatory Pet Pics

Ripley crashed out on a pillow in the sunshine, wearing her little doggy sweatshirt.

I obviously disturbed her by taking her picture, so she changed positions. Still cute.

She actually enjoys wearing the little sweatshirt when it's really cold out. And don't worry, she still looks tough in it.