Frozen PB&J's: Lifesavers for Summer

I have two friends: Sara Daffodil and Carrie Cornflower.  Sara Daffodil taught Carrie Cornflower about frozen PB&J's at a service project then Carrie Cornflower taught me about them at another service project.  Now Sara Daffodil, Carrie Cornflower, and me are teaching YOU about frozen PB&J's.  They will save your life, you mark my words.

Here are our players.  You need peanut butter, jelly, and something to spread it onto the bread.  I've included a number of options you could use to spread the aforementioned items.  It depends on where you are in life really.  If you're in a college dorm, chances are you definitely have an ice cream scoop.  If you're a cheese connoisseur, you most likely have a cheese slicer.  If you make cakes, you have a spatula and so on.  If you have three or more children, all the above are located in the sand box.  

Here goes: wash your cutting board.  I make mention of this so that people will eat at my house without fear of death or dog hair.

Take your knife, pizza cutter, spatula, measuring spoon or what have you and slab the peanut butter down.

Then the jelly.

I like my sandwiches cross cut like so.  But whatever blows your hair back.

You need tin foil.  

Wrap it up.

Now, if you're a Type A personality, your foiled grub will look like the wrap job they do at Customer Service in Dillards.  I however, am NOT Type A and therefore, don't give a Pug's nose what my finished product looks like.  

So, like, do that process until the entire loaf of bread is used up.  Warning: you may or may not get hungry making all these PB&J's.  You may or may not take a bite out of the sandwich.  You may or may not wrap it up anyway because as far as I'm concerned it may or may not stay in the family anyways and we all share the same spit.  You may or may not share that with my nurse mother and sister which may or may not turn them inside out.  Tell them I said "hello!"

Place the unprofessionally wrapped sandwiches in your freezer, above the ice box which is above your Steamables veggie packages.  When your kid, neighbor kids, husband, dog, nephew, or grand daughter feel hungry and you need a quick solution, frozen PB&J's are lifesavers!


With God's Love,
Sara Daffodil, Carrie Cornflower and Me

Twin Horsepower & Calamity Jane

I have had an experience to write about.    

I speak of the offspring of Zach Ponderosa Pine.  That's his name.  

Seriously.  Stop making that face.  Check his birth certificate. 

His kids little heinies came to my house.

It was Zach Ponderosa Pine's Mr. Mom day.  

See these twin baby boys?  I'm in love.

It's a forever love.

I love them like I love chips and salsa.

And chilled Tiramisu.

Each of these boys are like performance parts.

Like ultra ride cars.

Like Mustang Cobras with Kenne Bell Superchargers.

I give you Liam Procharger....

and his bro, Aiden Nitrous.    

Picture two human engines constantly pulling in air and mixing it with fuel. This mixture is burned and produces horsepower. 

Twin horsepower.

Just ONE little boy is like a stock engine.  Stock engines depend on vacuum and atmospheric pressure to get the air fuel mixture into the combustion chamber of your engine.....

but twin boys are superchargers physically compressing the air, making it denser and shoves it down your engines throat!  One of them is about to shove the other off the play set.  "Do it!" I hear.

No one was injured during the filming of this twin documentary.  

For the time being, I put the superchargers in the tower with their sister, Calamity Jane.  I gave them popsicles.

She'll be alright.  She's the last child I worry about being overwhelmed by supercharged twin brothers.  Janie's got a gun.

However, once the popsicles are gone, I'll have to think of something else to occupy their time.  Lord Jesus, may they be slow suckers.

FYI, there are Post-it Notes on each of them which say, "If found, please return to Mrs. Lowe.  We dig her play set.  We eat her popsicles.  Our mom will pick us up later.  Thanks."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go kiss all three of their little heads and entertain them with my best performance of "Walk Like An Egyptian".  Should be good.

Peace Out,

Bangle Girl

Dear Ladies: Guys Are Cool

They are uninhibited--when you let them.    

Don't be a drag and a nag.  If you are, shame on you.  You could be married to a flight attendant in his forties.

Be adventurous.

Follow him into the rugged terrain of manlihood one day.

Watch him consider a worthy way to light his hair on fire.

And if he has enough fuel to do it.

Be fun.

Be there just for him.

Compliment his masculinity.  He will love you for it.

 Photograph him with vigor.  Pretend you're a photographer hired to cover THIS ONE GUY at a motorsports event.  Encourage him to turn it up!  

Grin at him.

Hold your arm up and scream "go FASTER!"  


Pray in tongues when he does.

 And while you're speaking to God, praise him for giving you the greatest gift He knew you needed.  Then give your man the biggest cheer of his life after he shows you a little of what he's made of

when you're not putting him down... 


          or nagging him about what could happen if he does X, Y, Z....


                          or boobing about the sand being one with your lip gloss.


                                           Just shut up.  Eat bacon.  


                                                                He will love you more. 

He'll take pictures of the coolest wife in the world.  Cause you are.

He'll kiss you better.  

He'll say your badonk looks awesome in your jeans.  

Love, 
One who loves guys.  Especially mine.  He's like, so cool.  

 "Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a contentious wife."  Proverbs 21:9

Guy Time

I arranged for some of my guy's guys to come over.  It was worth it.

Guys need guy time. 

A time to eat burgers and a time to say "duuuuuuuuude" to each other.

A time to forget the napkin and a time to make car noises.

A time to laugh and a time to pass the Ketchup. 

A time to re-enact movie scenes and a time to tell stories.

Stories involving guns and ammo, air compressors, out running the cops, buddies peeing on cars at drag races, fire and objects they exploded, vice grip pliers, lawn mowers, and bacon.

I'll have to make this a regularly scheduled kind a thing.  But today, he's all mine.  

After I wake him up.

Have an awesome Saturday!