Hubby and I were able to head to a pumpkin patch in Marble Falls for the first time last Friday. There were plenty of activities available for all visitors, but my main plan was to buy pumpkins to carve and to take plenty of pictures.
Sweet Berry Farm is set up for plenty of picture opportunities. Hubby has turned into my personal photographer.
My husband was very adamant on finding the "perfect" pumpkin to carve. I wasn't terribly picky when it came to choosing my own pumpkin.
Their ATM was broken so we ended up leaving with only one very expensive pumpkin. We were pretty upset when we realized that pumpkins at Walmart are both better looking and cheaper.
After over two grueling hours of slimy work, we finished carving our pumpkins. Hubby of course went with something spooky while I went with an adorable Snoopy. Sadly, it's very difficult to see the thin and detailed lines of my Snoopy, but it looks better in person!
Both The Hubby and I are excited to eventually do all this with kiddos. Can you believe this year is almost over already?
As we leave the house, we feed Bella her kibble in an empty Gatorade bottle so that she can't eat her meal too quickly. I looked back and found this crazy pooch eating like this on the couch, with her butt on the arm rest the entire time. Thank goodness we cover our couch with an old sheet!
The Hubby has had more time off of work lately than I have. This meant that I gave him the responsibility of prepping dinner in our reliable slow cooker. I left him my recipe cards, and he did some magic with them. These two recipes were huge hits in our household so I thought I would share them.
Absolutely perfect with warm corn tortillas, Mexican rice, diced onions, and guacamole. We halved the recipe and had enough for two days. Instead of just keeping the slow cooker on warm for eight hours, I think the recipe would benefit from cooking on low four more hours.
Bella now thinks she owns the couch as it is all hers while we are at work all day. I hope she still knows that we love her even though we don't get to spend as much time with her during the day. At least nighttime is full of cuddlefests and kisses!
"You do you, Min. Don't give a fuck about anybody else. Hard work always wins out. People can see that. Focus on yourself. Don't worry about what the other person is doing. Let them fuck up. You're not responsible for them."
My sister told me this tonight and I need to etch it into my brain. Or something like that, anyway. I'm going through some tough adjustments at work this week and it's been really difficult. I still adore my job, but the honeymoon period is definitely over and personalities are beginning to clash.
It's so hard for me to let someone else fail. I'm too nice of a person to do that. However, if they are unwilling to accept my help then I need to let them fall on their own. I need to remember that I am not responsible for the well-being of everybody.
I'm too damn polite. Apparently, my politeness sends the wrong vibes to other people. I end up sounding insincere when in reality I truly am so thankful that you took the time to refill my water. Really! Thank you so much!
"You can just thank them for water. You don't have to kiss their feet."
I've been told by several people over the years that when they first met me, they wanted nothing to do with me. I come off as condescending, intimidating, or stuck up because I am "too polite." My sister told me this is because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings when I first meet them. Isn't this normal? I suppose this isn't now in the world we live in.
But I truly do have really good manners! My mama taught me well. Manners are so important to me that I have a separate label for when I blog about it. Okay, I'll admit that that's really nutters and not normal at all.
Should I change my ways since it seems like my over-politeness offends some people? This whole situation is keeping me up way past my bedtime. Can I convince people that I really am that nice? Because I really believe my grocery friend, Robert, is just that good of a person. Or will I continue to offend people by sounding condescending everywhere I go, even though I think that I'm spreading cheer? I've gone 24 years acting this way. How many people have I rubbed the wrong way? Can I go apologize to them?
"You know what? If you like that about yourself, if being polite is something that means a lot to you, then fuck the world."
Thoughts? Suggestions? Should I give a big middle finger to the world? Is there such thing as being too polite? How can I sound more sincere when I tell someone, "Thanks so much! I appreciate it!" when they put my groceries in my cart?
Thanks so much in advance! I appreciate it! Truly, I do!
You guys, geckos have been making our home their home, and I am not amused by this. So I'm going to write a long essay about it and hope that it at least entertains someone. I'd encountered many of these things back in California, but since moving here to Texas I have only dealt with spiders.
I can typically rid of bugs on my own since they just squish nicely under a big boot. However, I don't know how to deal with something like a gecko as I don't necessarily want to kill it.
I grew up in a household of all women so our technique for dealing with unwanted creatures was to trap them under shoeboxes until we could get a male friend to save us.
Once, my sister's friend finally came over and when he lifted up the box all that was left was a crusty dead lizard. My mom responded by saying, "Oh, I saw one earlier in the house so I just sprayed it with Raid and it ran away."
If we couldn't get a boy over to our house fast enough, we would beg my grandmother to save us. My grandmother ain't scared of nothin'. She's the woman who presses her bare finger to the bottom of a skillet to see if it's hot enough. But she's also a big believer in the "do it yourself and stop being a little bitch" philosophy.
Thankfully, I married a man who is fearless and exterminates pests for me. Gecko #1 appeared misshapen and stayed by my back door. I trapped it under tupperware and waited for him to come home to dispose of it. He laughed at me for not handling it on my own and proceeded to tell all of his buddies about this.
Gecko #2 made it into our master bathroom. Hubby came across it when he was in the bathroom at five in the morning. I was extremely upset at the fact that the gecko was in our bedroom at one point in time.
Then came Gecko #3, who was camouflaged in between the crack made by the bedroom carpeted floor and our floor board. I first spotted it near Bella's bed and leaned closer to it because it looked strange. When it scurried away, I screamed and ran away. Hubby was extremely ill with a cold that evening and really didn't want to get out of bed to get rid of a gecko. All I told him was, "I'm going in the kitchen to get your medicine. When I come back, that thing better be gone."
The other day, I found myself in a house with Gecko #4 grandma-less, husband-less, and male friend-less. It had ran across our living room floor and cornered itself by the fireplace. I tried to trap it immediately, but it started to scurry up the wall, which made me scream bloody murder.
I called my husband and shouted into the phone, "There's a gecko in the house! What do I do?!"
Hubby calmly responded with, "I don't know, babe. I'm not coming home for two weeks. You're just going to have to trap it I guess."
I was not happy with his answer. "But it's going to diiieee!"
Since I realized that he was useless, I called my friend, T, who still had a husband around (although she's not a pansy and could take care of it herself). No answer. For some reason, I decided to call my sister who is over 1,300 miles away for help.
"There's a gecko in the house and Hubby isn't home and it's trapped in a corner but I can't get the box on it because it's in an awkward place and I'm scared that if I try to trap it it's tail will come off and I don't want to do that because it'll scare me and I don't know what to do and Hubby won't come home for two weeks and there's a gecko in the house and I'm by myself and my friend isn't answering her phone."
All I heard was laughter on the other end. I could tell she was putting me on speakerphone so that her boyfriend could hear, too.
"Wait, say that again? Why don't you want to trap it?"
So I went through my entire spiel and again just laughter. Didn't they see that I was in immediate danger?!
Eventually, my sister talked me into trying to trap it again. I spent the next five minutes talking to myself and repeating the words, "Okay...now....ok....ok...now! Ok...uh..now!"I finally dropped the box on top of the gecko, but missed completely so it quickly ran in circles. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Finally, I got the thing under the box.
By the way, during this entire debacle, Bella just stared at me and wagged her tail whenever I screamed. Useless animal. Absolutely useless!
I was left with the option of either keeping the gecko there for two weeks or tossing it out the backdoor somehow. I told myself that if I didn't get rid of the thing immediately, I ran the risk of it escaping and finding it in my bed one day. My sister advised me to just drag the entire box over to the backdoor, which I did reluctantly.
When I had the box by the door, I had to work up the courage to actually lift the box up to get it over the bump by the door to release the gecko. As I lifted up the box, I was expecting it to just scurry away. However, the gecko was nowhere to be found! Shoot! Did it get away somehow? As I was just about to look under the box, it fell out from the top of the box and ran away quickly to the grass in our backyard.
And of course I was screaming the entire time. I was screaming so much that when it was all over I was sweating. I'm actually surprised that no one called the cops. I wish my sister or I had the foresight to record the entire fifteen minute phone call because it would have been hilarious.
All in all, I'm proud of myself for defending our home on my own. Hubby didn't sound very impressed though.
Just call me Min the Screaming Gecko Exterminator.