Zipperific

We've Moved!

2007-07-14T09:00:00.000-04:00

Hey everyone! We've moved! This is the last post for this particular site (not for my blog). Please visit us at our new home:

http://www.spottedelephant.wordpress.com/

I have uploaded all the posts from this site to the new site so anything I have written can be found there - as if it had always been there! Please check there often and bookmark the site.

See you there!

Big Brother

2007-06-21T15:49:00.000-04:00

Night of the Living MIDDLE SCHOOL

2007-05-02T00:17:00.000-04:00

So during our seemingly never-ending quest to organize everything in our house, I came across my old journals. One thing led to another and before I knew it I had read every entry - spanning from December 24, 1990 to January 9, 1995 (right smack dab in the epicenter of the storm that is Middle School plus about a year and a half of high school). Scary does not even begin to describe it. Maybe this will put it into perspective: the last time I read them was the night I graduated from high school and the next morning I thanked my parents for still speaking to me.

Its interesting how reading my silly, irrational, over dramatic ramblings from 15 years ago affected me so much. As one would expect, I spent a lot of time laughing. But, surprisingly, I also spent a lot of time re-examining old insecurities and feeling vulnerable and awkward and 12 years old all over again.

So I've decided to immortalize my over dramatic ramblings and present a story of progression through adolescence, as told by excerpts from my journal entries copied below, word for misspelled word.

Act 1: On the Cusp - The Twilight of Carefree Childhood

March 2, 1991 (11 years old)
"Today was so fun. I got to go to the mall with Mandi. I like her a lot. We need to get a best friends necklace. I am trying to spend more time dooing things like organizing my stuff, cleaning my room, keeping myself clean, and listening to the radio. I keep myself cleen enough, but I want to brush my teeth more, wash my face more, and stuff like that."
-I love how random my list of things to do becomes once I throw in "listening to the radio". I also noticed that at this age I have almost no thought continuity whatsoever - I just abruptly jump from subject to subject. Paragraphs? Don't need no stinkin' paragraphs!

April 8, 1991 (11 years old)
"I need a boy that I can tell my troubles to. Stuff like that. I like my friends, but sometimes a girl just won't do. I need a boy! My life needs it desperatly!"
-Uh oh, I sense the beginning of countless unnecessary hours of angst.

April 26, 1991 (11 years old)
" One of my dreames came true today. Mom and dad had to go to a dinner at 6:30. Well Kelli and I couldn't go so we stayed home and ordered pizza from LaRosa's! We ordered it at 7:17. We ate it while watching Full House, Family Matters, and Perfect Strangers. Tomorrow Mandi is coming to help with the garage sale."
-Dream big, kids. Not sure why I felt that recording the exact minute we ordered pizza was important. Also - the randomness is still alive and well.

May 6, 1991 (11 years old)
I don't know why Mom had to go and ruin this?! I mean, gosh it is just a dance! Mom won't let me go to Mandi's school dance! I can't do anything. Practicly everybody is allowed to go to a dance.

NO FAIR!

I am so mad I can barely write! My life is so boring nothing ever happens! I barely go anywhere or do anything important."
-Oh Mom - ruiner of dreams. If only I had gone to that dance, maybe my life would have turned out better! :)

June 9, 1991 (11 years old)
Kelli just broke my headband. She doesn't even have to pay for it! It was my favorite headband! I look horrid without it. She is bragging it up to me that she doesn't have to pay for it. Sometime I'll break something of hers and refuse to pay and we'll see how she feel about it then!"
-You just better sleep with one eye open, Kelli. Its coming....oh - its coming.

Act 2: Leaving Childhood in the Dust; The Descent into Middle School Hell
July 11, 1991 (12 years old)
"Oh gosh. Every time I think about or see Nick I get this weired feeling. Probably love. Mandi said she read in a book that when you are in love, you get a strange fealing that you can't explain."
-So matter of fact: "probably love". And something else you should know - I pretty much thought of Mandi as the final authority on anything, so if she said it I knew it was true. Like the time she told me that Paula Abdul was 16% African American - I told my mom the news and when she said that didn't make sense I simply replied: "But Mandi said she is" .

July 31, 1991 (12 years old)
"Guess what: James likes me! Today when I left the picknick he took Mandi over and said 'there is something I need to tell you, but you'll gab'. She said 'no I won't'. He said 'well I kind of like Kim but don't tell anybody'. Then at Bible School Mandi told me everything. I sort of like him. I want to say yes if he asks me to go with him. Sort of as a bridge between me and Nick. So I can say I have a boyfriend and be cool around Nick! Finally, someone decent likes me."
-Wow. A bridge? I'd never even had a real boyfriend but I was already a cold hearted snake!

September 30, 1991 (12 years old)
"I don't like Nick anymore. I mean, I like him as a friend, but the krush feeling isn't there anymore. Its like he has multiple personalities, because when he's with his friends he's snobby, but when he's alone, he acts sweet and responsible. I guess there's no such thing as a 12 year old boy who's nice, sweet, responsible, popular, not snobby, and a gentleman, and funny, and happy all the time. If there is, I've never met one. I'm getting a boy pen pal who's 12 years old. Maybe he'll cheer me up. I need it. He won't like me. I bet he won't write to me at all."
-I don't know whether to laugh at my specification that the boy be "happy all the time" or to be sad about the last two sentences.

November 11, 1991 (12 years old)
"Well, today was quite a day. I got all mad at mom because she wouldn't let me have a pizza pocket. I started crying and everything. I don't know why. All of a sudden my emotions went PLOP! My mood changed and I got histerical over lunch. I don't know what my problem was."
-I hate it when my emotions go PLOP. Ahh - those wonderful hormones.

February 29 and March 1, 1992 (12 years old)
"Mandi said James gave her a note to give me. I can't wait to get it! This will be so funny! I don't know why he didn't just give up by now. Its been since July."
"Oh my gosh! Mandi gave me a copy of the note! I have it but I'll copy it down in case I loose it.
Dear Kim,
I know this may come as a big surprise but will you go with me. I've liked you for a long time and I figure whats it worth liking you if I never ask you. I mean your really pretty and nice and all, but I get tired of being asked who I like and saying you and then fealing bad because they ask me why I'm not going with you. I like you so much and for the first time its more than just being pretty its all the things about you. Just give me a chance and if you don't like me then its over.
Love, James"
-That is actually a pretty mature note for a 12 year old boy - and very sincere. Apparently it did not impress me - and I'm feeling strangely guilty. But not too guilty - he has a wife and children now so his life turned out all right despite my cold-hearted-snakeness.

July 6, 1992 (13 years old, written from church camp)
"I hate this! Camp is so retarded! I hate the rules. I've been coming here for five years and the counselors never paid attention to the stupid rules before. Now we are totally bombarded with retarded rules. Like no headphones. Next year I go to be a counselor for the little kid's week or I don't go at all!"
July 16, 1992
"Okay - cancel everything I said in my last entry. I loved camp. It was one of if not the best years of camp. Probably the best."
-Darn counselors and their no headphones at camp rules.

December 19, 1992 (13 years old)
I am so short. I hate being short. I have a terrible figure and disgusting skin. I am making a list of things to eliminate from my life:
1. Soccer
2. Soap
3. Showers
4. Thursdays"
-????? I'm still scratching my head over that one. And I guess I figured out that eliminating soap from my life would not help with the skin problem...

January 28, 1993 (13 years old)
"Why are parents so....so....I don't know the word for it but whatever it is, they are like that! I asked my mom to take Lindsey and me to the mall after she dropped Kelli off at a birthday party. But of course, she doesn't feel like going to the mall today. When does she ever? I'm not asking her to make a big huge sacrifice or anything. Just go to the mall. I think she can entertain herself looking at furniture or something for a couple of hours. I hate being 13. I want to be 16 so I can drive myself to the mall so I won't be imprisoned in this house."
-Yeah, Mom. Can't you just look at furniture or something? I know you surely can't have anything better to do! :)

Act 3: Light at the End of the Tunnel: Morphing Back into a real Human

November 11, 1993 (14 years old)
"I can't believe I haven't written in so long! I just never find the time anymore. Well its another exciting Friday night at my house! Me and Lindsey played the alphabet game and sang Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree all night. But my boring weekends don't bother me anymore now that I feel like I have more of a life. I'm so tired! I have zillions upon zillions of things I could write about but I'm ready to fall asleep."
-A breath of fresh air. I'm already sounding more coherent.

September 17, 1994 (15 years old)
Today Lindsey and I had fun just doing nothing all day. Then I went to a band competition at Campbell County High School with the flag team. We had a lot of fun. I can't think of a lot to write these days: I think I changed a lot over the summer. Camp was great. School is okay. I think I like being a sophomore better than being a freshman. Having a study hall is very cool!
-I even recognize me now!

If you're still with me after all those entries - thanks for indulging my walk down memory lane. As I read back through the excerpts I decided to post I can't help but be struck by all that I purposely left out. I did bare my soul to some extent, but even now, 12 - 15 years later as a married, home owning woman with an awesome family and large circle of friends, I'm still embarrassed by many of the entries. I cringe at their uncomfortable dorky-ness and how obsessive I was about so many events/situations. Maybe we all have a 12 year old girl lurking inside of us, ready to come out and attack when she senses a vulnerability.

Anyway, my apologies to everyone I spoke ill of in my journal entries, especially Mom - remember, middle school kids and their brains are not completely human. I didn't give you much credit back then but I could never repay you for all you selflessly did and continue to do for me. So once again - thanks to everyone I knew back then for putting up with me during my "wonder years". Despite all the angst in my journal, I really do have so many fun, humorous, and fond memories of those times.....but I would never want to go back!!!

It Really IS Spring!

2007-04-19T16:16:00.000-04:00

I meant to post this Tuesday, so pretend it is Tuesday the 17th as you read this. Tuesday it was warm and sunny with blue skies (check local listings).

Today (Tuesday - play along) I was so envigorated by the warmth and blue skies that I wanted to do something outside. I really do think my mood is affected by the dreary days (one here and there is fine - you have to have some excuses to stay in all day and knit/crochet as you watch hours of TV!).

At first I wasn't sure what to do outside (clean out my desperately messy car, sit and crochet on my deck) and then I saw what Zipper had been doing to the cloth toy I foolishly bought for her and gave to her about 20 minutes prior (it looked sturdier than many others - but now I think that maybe only NASA could construct a toy sturdy enough for this 10 lb. tornado):

Look at her determination as she rips him apart, thread by thread:

Drunk on Power and Fuzz:

Obviously, Zipper needed something to do. So we went to the park for a walk around the track and a romp in the Dog Park area. Now its been a good long while since Zipper has been subjected to a walk (she has a short attention span), so I was worried she wouldn't be into it.

But she LOVED it - and how could she not? It was such a great day out there.

Enjoying the view across the meadow (soccer field):

On the scent of... I think its a....KILLER ROBIN!!!

Exploring the Mighty Pioneer Creek:

Surveying the land that she has just conquered in the name of Puppydom.

I can't wait to have more days like this one. They're coming.....right?

The Torid and True Details of My Illicit Affair

2007-04-16T23:21:00.000-04:00

Well, I promised I'd tell all, and in true tabloid style, I'm prepared to expose my affair to the world.

Okay - here it goes:

Knitting was my first real hobby love - a crush that turned into the real thing. But recently, my hands have been wondering.....

I still love knitting - the way the little "v's" look in stockinette stitch, the endless stitch and pattern possibilities - everything. But.....

I've started "seeing" another hobby: crochet. Ahhh - it feels so good to finally say it! It all started innocently enough - I was reading a blog and looking at the gorgeous pictures of a Granny Square Afghan in the making. And one thing led to another and before I knew it I was glued to the computer, looking at all kinds of crazy pictures - it just happened so fast!

Temptation got the best of me and I let my infatuation take over. I got a hook, I checked out a book on crochet from the library, I found some yarn that compliments my bedroom. And then, I started experimenting around. It was all innocent enough at first - just healthy exploration - normal for a girl my age. But it was addicting and I couldn't stop. Before I knew it, I had this:

Though I was finding much excitement and satisfaction from all my multicolored squares and dreaming of what they will look like when they become my masterpiece blanket, my affair was bittersweet. I would pass by my lonely knitting basket and notice so many unfinished projects - a scarf, a sock, an afghan, a sweater, etc. Was I neglecting knitting? Was the fire gone from our relationship? I didn't think so, but I did do a lot of soul searching.

Despite my concerns I couldn't help myself. What crochet and I have feels too right even if its wrong. And if being wrong feels this good, I don't want to be right! The relationship moved to a new level this past weekend. I started another blanket. I know, I know - I should have learned my lesson the first time. But how was I supposed to resist after I found this? Though it may be graphic, I must post more pictures of the newest fling. Look away if you must.

Like I said before, I've been doing a lot of soul-searching throughout this process and I think I have achieved peace. Call it justification if you want, but I think that knitting and I are mature enough to transition into an "open relationship". You know - free love and following your heart. Heck - sometimes knitting itself even cozies up with crochet and cohabits the same garment or project.

I sat the kids down and explained our new arrangement with them. While the cats are still adjusting to the idea, Zipper was very forward-thinking and accepted it right away; a sure sign that it can't be bad.

So, with much courage I stand before you today (electronically speaking) and profess, with pride: I Am A Hooker!

All Aboard the Daddy Express

2007-04-10T11:46:00.000-04:00

In our ongoing effort to thoroughly spoil our pets, we have reached a new high (or low). Check out Zipper's new preferred mode of transport. She took a tour of the house on "The Daddy Express" now she's taken to calling Randy "servant boy".

I know I promised the details of my sordid affair, but I guess I'm just not ready to spill my guts just yet. Hopefully I will be ready to share all by tonight or tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed.

Nature is Cool - Who Knew?

2007-04-06T22:32:00.000-04:00

My parents were nice enough to take my sister and I on an old-school family vacation to visit my aunt and uncle and cousins in Tennessee and the Biltmore Estate in North Carolina this past week (and, of course, our husbands - who both had to work - were nice enough to let us go without them and without too much vacation jealousy). Luckily, our vacation occurred before winter came again (yesterday the wind chill here was 23 degrees) and we enjoyed green grass, bright skies, and blooming flowers. I have never been what you might call a nature lover, so I have really surprised myself this year by how much I have enjoyed this taste of spring and renewal and life.
In fact, I only took one picture of an actual human during this trip: the below image of my sister, Kelli, holding the ranch dressing "on the side" that the waitress at Apollo Flame restaurant (its not as interesting as it sounds) brought with her salad. She didn't use it all.

The first stop on our trip was Hampton, Tennessee, where my Aunt Ann, Uncle Steve, and Cousins Sara and John live. They live in a great old family house complete with a giant wrap-around porch, a couple barns, and a horse, in the foothills of mountains. Maybe its because I'm on vacation whenever I visit, but in this place time seems to slow down and become more leisurely. Little things don't seem as important and I actually enjoy sitting outside and knitting on the porch into the evening, glancing out at the perfect rows of baby trees in the nursery across the road. I would never do that at home - it would never even occur to me - though I have a nice view of trees and rolling hills from my back yard.

After our relaxing time in Tennessee we packed up and headed east to Asheville, North Carolina. Though our primary destination was the historic Biltmore Mansion I was pleasantly delighted by the city of Asheville. I didn't know anything about it before we went and to my surprise, it is an artsy hipster town full of cool restaurants and art galleries/shops - some featuring really innovative handcrafted clothing, accessories, and functional art. We didn't have much time to spend there but Randy and I are already planning a trip to visit soon.

A highlight of my visit to downtown Asheville was a store called Ten Thousand Villages. A non-profit agency, it sells handcrafted items made by artisan in over 30 developing countries who would otherwise be unemployed or underemployed. I went in expecting the merchandise to be fun to look at but out of my price range. Rather, it was all very reasonably priced and there was so much I wanted to buy. I ended up leaving with an indigo blue star garland to go in our spare room (pictures coming later this week)made in Bengladesh and an amber stone necklace made in India. You can visit their web site here - they have stores all around the country plus you can shop online. I can't wait to go back.

My favorite part of the Biltmore, suprisingly enough, was the garden. Or shall I say "gardens".

With my newfound appreciation of flowers and plants I have been thinking about adopting some and cheering up the house. (If you hear distant, muffled cries its just my only current plant responsibility warning other plants not to come to the "house of torture".) But I don't know if I'm ready for that - maybe I'll just keep looking at the pictures I took instead.

I liked them so much that I already got some enlarged, printed, and framed for a new project I am working on this weekend.
I won't reveal the project in its entirety until it is finished and I have pictures to prove it. All I'll say is: Martha Stewart, look out.
And cut to more garden pictures:

Brace yourselves- the title of my next post is: The Torrid and True Details of My Illicit Affair. Chew on that.

Memoirs of a Cactus

2007-03-29T14:57:00.000-04:00

What follows is an epic tale of rejection, dreaming, overcomming, and a new sombrero. And who doesn't like a new sombrero?

Not so long ago and not so far away in a quiet family house on an average neighborhood street, a sad and lost soul wiled away the days alone and bitter. Everyone who met him couldn't help but be turned off by his prickly personality and that was fine with him. He was CRABBY and being crabby was all he ever knew. He had a motto: "I'm Cactie and I'm CRABBY!" And with that kind of attitude exuding from his scratchy skin,people and stayed away.

Well, most stayed away that is. A small kitten named Einstein joined the family and lived at the house. Apparently no one told him that Cactuses are crabby and will bite you if you get too close. And, having a penchant for scratching his face on anything sharp, Einstein the kitten boldly went right up to Cactie and nuzzled him, purring loudly.

This caught Cactie completely off guard. NO ONE had ever touched him on purpose - much less nuzzle him! "What's wrong?", he thought. "Are my needles malfunctioning? Have I lost my prickle? Oh no! Not my prickle!"

But as the days and weeks passed Cactie realized that his prickle was in fine working order as everyone else still avoided him and yelped in pain if he got too close. But his prickles didn't seem to bother Einstein. In fact, Einstien seemed to enjoy them. And after a while, Cactie didn't mind Einstein too much, either. He supposed that being friends with one cat would not harm his crabby reputation too much.

And as the friendship grew Cactie paid more attention to Einstein and began to wonder why he seemed so happy and carefree. Why wasn't he CRABBY? Being a curious and scholarly cactus, Cactie executed a research observation study to learn the secret of Einstein's happiness. His research led him to two conclusions: that he might want to try out this "happy" thing as it looked like a lot more fun than crabbiness, and that the source of Einsteins happiness seemed to be his cuddles and nuzzles with all of his friends.

This insight did not bring peace to Cactie because he knew that he would never be able to experience the cuddles and nuzzles of his family as long as he was prickly. One day he tried to pull out his needles but passed out after the first one. His only hope was a legend he had heard when he was just a baby cactus, still on the cactus farm. Like all baby cacti, he was told of the Great Cactus Fairy who could make your wish come true if you just believed.

At first, Cactie didn't know if he could believe - it seemed like such a far fetched notion. But one night he mustered up all of his concentration and thought about the Great Cactus Fairy until he was very sleepy. He drifted off to dream-land repeating "I believe in you, Cactus Fairy" over and over again.

And in spite of any doubts, the Great and Powerful Cactus Fairy appeared to Cactie in his dream and said: "Yeh, little Cactie. I have heard your request and am here to grant your wish. Upon your waking, ye shall be transformed into a soft toy - a toy which will bring joy to everyone who sees it. And people from near and far will come to cuddle and nuzzle ye. And lo, I will give thee a new caretaker who will love and cherish thee. Plus, I'm throwing in a free sombrero because its Free Sombrero Month in Cactiland. Now wake up and be prickly no more!" And in a flash, the Great Cactus Fairy was gone.

Cactie woke up excited for a moment and then realized he'd been dreaming and his spirits fell. But maybe....just maybe.....it wasn't a dream. Was it too much to hope for? Cactie slowly opened his eyes and looked down at himself. Somethine MAGICAL had happened to him! It was true - he was a soft toy! The burdonsome prickles were all gone!

Cactie reveled in his new appearance and looked forward to all the good times to come. He looked at himself from every angle, admiring his soft skin, his new sombrero, and his new red flower. He had to admit, he was quite a catch! He hoped there would be some lady cactuses in his new home.

And just like the Great Cactus Fairy promised, the next day Cactie was taken on a great journy across a great yellow bridge over a wide river. He reached his destination to find his new caretaker named Chris, who adored him. She showed him off to her friends who all loved him as well. He realized it was going to take him a while not to be surprised everytime someone nuzzled him without flinching.

And now Cactie's dreams are fulfilled - he can't believe his good fortune. When he thinks back to the old days - the long long ago in the before time - he doesn't know how he could have ever thought that being CRABBY was the way to be. He is thankful everyday for his new body and his new life (and of course his new sombrero) and he dreams about the Great Cactus Fairy every night!

Woah - She Finally Posted

2007-03-21T21:22:00.000-04:00

Yes - you CAN believe your eyes. This blog has been updated for the first time in about seven months. Lets skip the pleasantries and get right to the meat of this post: What is the one question on everyone's mind? "What has Kim been doing for the last seven or so months since she last blogged?" Of course! Well, there have been two major projects/changes and I'll tell you about both:

1. Home Improvement Bonanza! Randy and I decided, for better or worse, to rip out all the floors in our house and replace them with hard wood Brazilian Cherry floors. Ourselves - as in we did all the work (well, lets be clear - when I say "we" I mean "Randy") with help from friends and family - especially my dad! Just like so many other endeavors, one thing leads to another and replacing more than 1000 square feet of flooring was not sadistic enough for us. We also painted every door in the house, replaced all bedroom light fixtures with fans, and completely redecorated our bedroom (I did have a major role in those improvements). Below is a photographic essay on the entire process.

The day we first got our new floors - we were so young and naive then! We layed them out for a preview of what was to come. I'm not sure if it will translate in this picture but the new wood is MILES above the old laminate on which its lying.

One thing we didn't think about until we were in the thick of it - putting in new floors is much like moving out of and then back into your house. Everything must be moved out of each room for the floors to go in and then put back. Here is much of the office temporarily residing in the living room.

Spare Room: Before. No - your eyes are not deceiving you. The room really was painted "painter's tape blue" when we moved in. Here it is with the carpet removed, ready to be put out of its misery with several fresh coats of paint.

No - Zipper did not get into a bottle of whisky. She worked hard that first day and had the paint stains on her paws to prove it. I don't think she was technically awake in this picture.

This picture is to prove that I did do some work on this project. You can tell because I'm wearing a bandana. A workin' bandana.

TaDa! We have eradicated all traces of electric blue from the house. This isn't the best picture of the room, but you can see the new colors - sand for the ceiling, pale aqua on top, and sky blue on bottom. Oh yeah - we also installed new wood blinds in every room.

Here is Randy after he ceremoniously installed the first plank of floor. Doesn't he look proud?

Even though we painted and outfitted our bedroom when we moved in a year prior, I felt that the room looked kind of like a circus and wanted something a little more sophisticated. This is a glimpse of the new decor.

Drum Roll please......Countless hours and two months later, this is how our living room looks complete with the new floor. We LOVE it.

Finally, Linus wanted to show you the view down the hallway. He appreciates how thoughtful we were to pick flooring that matches his coat so nicely.

2. I quit my job! After a lot of consideration and discussion and anticipation, Randy and I finally made the decision for me to hang up my Girl Scout sash and take a break from the working world for a while. I was stressed out and tired and my blood pressure couldn't take any more meetings :) so after almost five years at Girl Scouts, I resigned in January and have been learning to be domestic ever since. I have been told that my cooking has improved quite a lot and I'm working on becoming organized. The best part is, I should have much more time to blog now!

So we have a lot of blogging to look forward to. Coming soon: Memoirs of a Cactus, Speedy the Turtle, and The Rebels on Gribble Drive (aka the Marksberry Animals)

Zipper Goes to the Races......The Weiner Races

2006-08-13T22:10:00.000-04:00

So I guess I owe an explanation for waiting approximately 55 days to post again. Hmmm.....explanation.......okay, I've got one: I had to spend 55 days planning this super-awesome post and it will be totally worth the wait. Not buying it? Well, too bad - go get your own blog if you don't like it. :)

Anyway, I'm sure you're all intrigued with the title of the post, so let me jump in with no further ado.

Saturday was a big day for Zipper. She saw what may very well be the largest concentration of weiners (dogs that is) in one place that she will ever see. She accompanied Randy and me to the Summer National Weiner Dog Races at River Downs. No joke - this was the 12th annual Weiner Dog Race and featured 100 weiner dog competetors plus 10 honorary Basset Hound competetors. Ten heats of ten dogs each and then one final heat to decide the crown. The atmosphere was electric.

Here are some highlights of Zipper's experience at what could be described as her family reunion:

1. Zipper realized that she was the cutest weiner in attendance. Of course she is a modest weiner so she didn't come to this realization on her own - her mommy and daddy made sure to tell her several times. Spoiled? What are you talking about?

2. Zipper realized that she had better watch her diet or she will end up like at least a quarter of the weiners she saw - or shall we call them sausages.

3. Zipper realized that she is a wus and she likes it that way. We came upon one of these sausages and Zipper wanted to make friends. She politely began the sniff ritual when the sausage growled and kept growling. Zipper's immediate reaction was to crouch down as low as possible and lay her head down on the ground as if to say "I'm dead. You're the boss!" When I asked her why she said, "I'm not stupid. I know how to get by!"

4. Zipper realized that most weiners are not cut out for racing, but that makes for a more entertaining race. In each heat there were at least two to three weiners who decided that racing was not for them and that it would be more fun to sit down, stand there staring at the finish line, or leap over to another lane to check it out. The best, though, was during the Basset Hound heat when one hound decided that lying down was the proper response to the "Ready, Set, Go!" command and then, with some fervent encouragement from his owner, managed to saunter up to the finish line a good two minutes after the race was over.

5. Zipper realized that even a weiner race is not without controversy. During the championship heat one weiner was released by his owner (release the hound!) before the race had actually started. The start of the race was replayed several times on the suspended TV screens and a slightly intoxicated spectator heckled the offending weiner. How drunk do you have to be to heckle a weiner?

6. Zipper realized that weiners have a lot of fans. Since she can't count past two, she doesn't know how many people were there, but the stands were mostly full of people and their weiners. Also, many of the racing dogs had their own cheering sections including people wearing t-shirts and hats or holding signs of support to their chosen weiner (i.e. - a t-shirt that said "Team Oscar" with a picture of the dog I assumed was Oscar).

7. Finally, Zipper realized that her mommy is a sucker for funny weiner t-shirts. She helped me pick out a t-shirt with this design:

I will wear it with pride because it's true - my weiner is a winner! In fact, she's Zipperific!

Driving Under the Full Moon

2006-06-19T13:43:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday Randy!!! Today is Randy's 27th birthday (he is so old - he robbed the cradle) and since he is out of town on business today we spent the weekend celebrating. We went to Red Lobster, on an 8 mile bike ride with Zipper (more on this in a later post), to a barbecue, and did some spontaneous late-night shopping for our upcoming camping trip. It was one of those fun, spur-of-the-moment type weekends that we don't seem to have much anymore. The kind of weekend where you don't have expectations so everything is fun and flexible - the kind we used to have all the time in high school and college. The kind where you stay out late but don't feel tired and drive around going wherever your whim takes you, forgetting all your cares.

This kind of weekend was a gift to Randy in and of itself - he didn't have to plan or stress about what to do. But by far the best gift of the weekend was given to him from a kind stranger with whom we crossed paths on Friday night. And it turned out to be a gift for me as well.

We enjoyed a late dinner at Red Lobster (well Randy enjoyed the food - I had to be content just enjoying the company since my fish was really bad - Randy confirmed it - it wasn't just me being picky) and afterwards decided to go to the 24 hour Wal-Mart to look for a bike rack for our car. We left Red Lobster and leisurely drove toward Wal-Mart as we listened to the Beatles and Randy spoke on his cell phone.

As we stopped at a red light I felt Randy furiously elbowing me and motioning for me to look over through his window. As I gazed out the window I noticed that something big and round was sticking out of the back, passenger side window of the SUV stopped next to us as well as a waving arm sticking out of the front window. At first my brain did not register exactly what this object was - and about a half second later it hit me: Oh my goodness - its a butt!!!

Yes, my dear readers, this is an account of our first ever mooning (as the moon-ers or the moon-ees) and it was fantastic. I highly recommend it. Picture casually looking over and seeing an identity-less butt protruding out a car window and dancing around merrily as the front passenger motions you to drive up closer to get an even better look. FYI - we decided the view from where we were was just fine.

The only down side was that we risked running off the road in our moon-induced laughing fit. We don't know who these people are, why they chose to share their moon with us, or where they may strike next. We only know that they were ambassadors of humor, selflessly giving of themselves to brighten the lives of strangers in the night. It was seriously the highlight of our weekend (and we had a great weekend). We laughed so hard - we couldn't believe it had actually happened.

From Wikipedia: Mooning is the act of displaying one's bare buttocks by lowering the back side of one's trousers and underpants. Mooning is used in some cultures to express protest, scorn, disrespect, or provocation. It can also be done for shock value or fun. So whatever your mooning mission, thank you kind stranger. Shine on!

Camera Update
The Zipper-damaged cord needed to upload pictures from my camera has been ordered and shipped - soon to arrive in my mailbox. So look for photo-filled posts any day now. I have tons of photos from this weekend which I will share soon!

Seriously?

2006-06-14T17:11:00.000-04:00

Setting: Harrison, Ohio
Aspen Grove Wedding Reception Hall
Wednesday, 12:06 p.m.

Signboard reads (and I quote):

Congratulations Holly and Wade

U Got R Done

Seriously? Is that the sign you would want to signify the eternal bond of love you've just vowed before God? To each his own. Best wishes, Holly and Wade.

No Pictures, Might as Well Crose

2006-06-12T19:47:00.000-04:00

Randy - that title is for you.

So I don't know if I can have a blog anymore. I can't have a blog anymore because I can't post pictures anymore. I can't post pictures anymore because A DOG ATE MY DIGITAL CAMERA USB CABLE!!!!! Now I won't mention any names. But the name of this blog is a clue.

Sure, some of you might say - of course you can blog without pictures! And some others might say - you can replace your USB cable! But that line of thinking is way to rational for me right now. I am still in the "wallowing in self pitty" state and I'm going to milk it.

Shoulder Update
My shoulder feels much better. Maybe Leslie took out her voodoo pins or maybe my growth spurt is over for the time being. Or maybe Randy has come to terms with his day job. Whatever - I'm just glad I feel better. After a day of sleeping and taking darvocet on Sunday I feel almost as good as new.

Knitterific
Update on my super secret project. As some of you may have guessed, I'm making a baby sweater for a little bun in the oven. My best friend since the 2nd grade, Mandi Edwards Hawkins (she didn't have all those names then) called me last week to let me know she and her husband, Andrew are expecting their first baby in November!!! Of course I had to start knitting immediately. I can't show you pictures as mentioned above.

But I can show you a picture of the pattern I'm using if you promise not to tell Mandi what it looks like (and Mandi, if you're reading, close your eyes).

This is the Chunky Knit Cardigan from Erika Knights' Simple Knits for Cherished Babies. I am making it in a Christmas red merino wool with ivory trim. I know the baby will live in Florida but it gets rather nippy there in December. Besides - they have to bring the baby up north to visit for Christmas, don' they?

Help!

2006-06-08T22:14:00.000-04:00

This will be quick because I have just finished my 13.5 hour work day which included taking 120 girls to the Newport Aquarium and AMC Theater to see Over the Hedge (which, by the way, I fell asleep during - decide for yourself if that is a statement about the entertainment value of the movie or a result of a crazy week of running around camp).

I am looking forward (since you can't hear my voice I must inform you that this is said with sarcasm) to my day tomorrow which begins by getting to a bus stop in Northside (its near downtown) at 7:30 and being the "bus monitor" for two hours until we arrive in Maineville (its near Kings Island). I will then run around camp all day and board the bus again at 3:30 for a two hour trip back to my car. Awesome. But its okay - because I'm doing it to help Leslie out and she SO deserves it!

Anyway - the Help plea refers to lingering pains in my shoulder/collar bone. I woke up yesterday with a pain in my shoulder/collar bone/neck and assumed that I over-stressed it dunking shirts for tie-dye or slept on it funny. It lasted all day. I woke up this morning and it was worse. By this evening it hurts to: pick up things heaver than a piece of paper with that arm, raise my arm above shoulder level, open my jaw too far (yeah - that one puzzles me too), or move in certain ways.

This pain is a total mystery to me. Here are some possibilities that might explain what happened:

Old football injury.........oh, you have to have actually played football to have a football injury?
Leslie is a voodoo doctor in her spare time and has a doll that looks suspiciously like me with several pins in its shoulder.
Randy has pent up frustration stemming from his secret unfulfilled dream to be a cage fighter. The frustration manifests itself in dreams during which he sleep-kicks my shoulder.
Its growing pains. I'm finally getting my growth spurt. Watch out, Brooke - here I come.

If you have any insight on the nature of my agonizing shoulder pain, please let me know. I'm open to suggestions. For now, I better go to bed to gear up for tomorrow's day'o'fun!

Not in the Mood

2006-06-06T21:23:00.000-04:00

I've had an awful day and I'm tired, achey, and irritable. I'm not in the mood to post - but I don't want to slide down the slippery slope of waiting too long to post. So here I am. - it will be quick.

I did several things today that I've never done before:

1. Fulfilled the duties of day camp nurse - cases included: girl with bee sting, girl with nosebleed, and severely emotionally handicapped girl who wanted "TO GO HOME WITH MY MOMMY AND DADDY" but, turns out, actually just needed a nap in the infirmary and then was good as new.

2. Soaked 145 t-shirts in a soda ash solution over several rounds so as to fit in 6 small buckets to prepare them for tie-dying. My hands still ache from wringing them all out.

3. Yelled at police officers. Many counselors at this day camp are police officers and some of them need some extra reminding that they are, in fact, not on break and need to acually stay with their units during lunch.

4. Cried at work in front of coworkers (including my boss). I think that sums up the day.

So - not to fret - nothing earth shattering happened to make me cry. It was just a combination of WAY too much work and not enough time and one of those days that a million small things seem to go wrong all at the same time and overwhelm you. Maybe 6/6/06 really is a cursed day. Tomorrow has to be better. Right?

SuperMega Fiber-Sheep-Knitting-Amish Extravaganza

2006-06-04T17:33:00.000-04:00

So I haven't posted in over a week. Sue me. Actually you won't want to sue me after you read this because I'm going to make up for the missed week and then some! I guarantee it! ("I could get a good look at a t-bone by sticking my head......" - some of you are laughing now)

What did you do over Memorial Day Weekend? Cookout? Yardwork? Yawn - wait until you find out what kind of wild and crazy weekend I had with my party friends. Brooke, Nicole (Brooke's friend from Yarns and Fabrications), and I went to.......drumroll.........the Great Lakes Fiber Festival. Jealous? I know you are - or will be once you find out all of the wild and crazy things we did. You know - I've got to get in these escapades before I have children and have to "settle down". But seriously - I know many readers may snicker to themselves at the thought of a Fiber Festival but I had a great time. You can relive it with me below!

Traveling
Nicole, Brooke, and I left Cicny last Saturday afternoon barreling toward Wooster, Ohio. Brooke's mom lives there (Brooke grew up there) and graciously invited us to stay with her for the weekend. We arrived around 9:00 on Saturday evening and got to meet Midget - pictured below with my knee and foot. Midget was a rescue dog that who had been in four different homes during her three-year life. We don't understand why - she was one of the sweetest dogs I have ever met and she helped get me through some Zipper withdrawl!

The Festival

Of course, the obvious draw for us to go to the festival was yarn. But can you believe they had other, non-yarn items to view and buy? Since animals are covered in fiber, there were a lot of them there for sale and show. We made friends with some of them.

Here is an alpaca - I am a big fan of his work.

Next we met an Angora bunny- he was very cute but also very disgruntled. His fur and the heat do not mix well. I am also a big fan of his work and Brooke even bought some of his yarn.

And of course, what would a fiber festival be without sheep. I think the following photographic essay needs no more explaination than the simple captions above each picture:

BEFORE

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AFTER

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WAY AFTER

That's right folks, they were selling roast lamb at the food booth about 25 feet across from the sheep exhibition. I'm sure those of you who grew up on a farm or had chickens in your yard that you ate for dinner are thinking "so what". But we were all pretty creeped out by it. I showed proper respect for the sheep and a hamburger - I mean - it wasn't a Cow Festival.

Shopping
The fiber festival was to me what an open bar at a wedding would be like to an alcoholic - er - except I had to pay for my yarn. After much debate and browsing I bought two types of yarn.

Below is handspun and hand-dyed wool/silk from Donna's Yarns (I don't know where Donna usually sets up shop - her tags don't have any information.). The brown dye was made from walnut hulls - I thought that was cool. One of the best parts: each skein was $3.00 - so I bought seven skeins. Two tan and five of the dark brown spekled. I have no idea what this yarn should become.
ANNOUNCING THE FIRST EVER ZIPPERIFIC BLOG CONTEST. Post your ideas about what I could make with this yarn in my comment section. I'll look at all the ideas and whoever came up with the idea I end up choosing gets a special prize! It will be knitting/yarn related if you are into that sort of thing and probably food/candy related if you aren't.

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The only other yarn I bought has proven to be a bit unruly. Brooke was very self sacrificing and helped me untangle and wind it at the ice cream shop we visited after the festival.

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We even gave the yarn its own chair. That got us some strange looks.

Question: What is the best thing about being in an icecream and candy shop at the same time as a birthday party featuring 20 10-year-old boys?

Answer: Watching the boys get to fill up plastic bags with whatever candy they wanted, getting to order any flavor icecream they desired, and eating birthday cupcakes as one boy exclaimed with all sincerity, "This is the BEST day of my LIFE!"

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Amish Country
In an effort to top off our wild and crazy Sunday, we went to sin city - er - I mean Amish Country. I thought it was quite interesting that Amish Country is such a huge tourist attraction. It just seems strange that the people who want to separate themselves from the world and keep private are at the center of a craft and antique store mecca. We saw plenty of Amish people, but I told Brooke that I wouldn't be satisfied unless I saw a barn raising. Not wanting to dissapoint, Brooke found me a barn raising. Granted, it was on a post card - but I never specified that the barn raising had to be live and in person So I applaud the effort. Well done, Brookey.

While in Amish Country, Nicole bought an antique spinning wheel she plans to use to make her own yarn. I can't wait to see the fruits of her labor!

Brooke's mom got me this keychain in Amish Country (don't ask what this has to do with being Amish). Wasn't that sweet? Its like she knew I liked Dachshunds or something - its not like I ever talk about them or anything........

Well that is all for now on the trip front. I hope you enjoyed my exploits. Remember, what happens here stays here. Or is that Vegas?

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Knitterific
Major accomplishments in knitting world! Brooke and Nicole inspired me to keep pluggin' away on my Market Squares entrelac bag and I got newfound motivation to finish. I finally knit the last stitch on Saturday night. This one was a lot of work, so let me show off a little!

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Here it is before I felted it.

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And here are a bunch of pictures of it post-felting. Just humor me and take a minute to savor it!

I suppose its like childbirth. You swear you're never doing it again but the lure of a new baby (or new bag) changes your mind. Yes - I started another one.......

But tonight I was informed of a new knitting assignment I need to start on right away - so this may get put onto the back burner. More to come on the details behind my mysterious new knitting assignment.......

Epic Tales from the Basement of Doom

2006-05-21T00:11:00.000-04:00

So I was going boxes of my old stuff to get ready for a yard sale (ahh! The pain! - but more on that subject in a later post). What did I end up doing the entire evening? Pricing things for sale? Cleaning up old treasures to make them more appealing to the buyer? Not quite. Try getting totally distracted with a twisted trip down memory lane. And here it is - the epic story of my life as told by random crap I found in the basement (of doom).

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Splinter of Great Sorrow

Yes - that's right. This is a 19-year-old splinter preserved in a plastic hospital jar. The one-inch sliver of wood has held up surprisingly well though it is not extremely visible in the picture. This guy, along with several dozen of his friends squatted in my foot for several weeks back in '88. They liked the new digs so much they invited some nasty bacteria and, long story short, I got to take a five day vacation from school to a magical place with rolling chairs, adjustable beds, mystical needles, and - most importantly - lots of presents from all kinds of visitors.

The one down-side was when my mom went to my school to pick up my homework. The man (aka my teacher) showed her all the uncompleted classwork I had stuffed into my desk in an effort to make it disappear. Luckily, the man took pitty on me and let my mom take the worksheets home so I could finish them with no late consequences. Unluckily, my mom did not have the same pitty and made me spend my entire first day back from the hospital doing all the backlogged school work. The nerve!

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What an Honor!

In yet another splendid display of my early academic prowess (needless to say my work ethic increased as I got older) I was awarded the prestigious "Student of the Week" award in the 4th grade. What were the qualifications? 1. Be a student in the Mr. McGlasson's fourth grade class. 2. Be a student who has not yet been the "Student of the Week". I'll never forget that fateful day when I learned of my great honor. Mr. McGlasson said "Who should be student of the week? Kim have you haven't done it yet, have you? Okay - you're it." Those words stick with me in times of challenge as an inspiration - and now I'm passing them on to you. You're welcome. (By the way - those more observant readers will notice something scratched into the metal underneath the words, "student of the week". Good eye. This is my attempt to personalize my plaque with the letters "KIM". Perhaps I was insecure, thinking people may not believe the award actually belonged to me. Well I took care of that - now it looks official!)

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God's Gym

Well I really don't have much to say about this one. I just found it and wanted to share. Its one of those things that seemed really normal at the time but now looks hilarious.

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Hard Rock

Oh yeah, baby! Doesn't my old Jordan Knight shirt look right at home resting on the kickin' amp? Would you think less of me as a person if you knew that I (along with several other girls) took this ginormous Jordan button (conveniently equipped with a fold-out stand on the back) to school and displayed it on my desk, transporting it to each classroom throughout the day? Oh - you would? Well that was just a hypothetical question. I don't know anyone who would have done that. Haha - wouldn't that be retarded?

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The Power of the Dream

This paints a picture, doesn't it? Besides thoughts of -"what am I thinking posting a picture of myself WEARING A BATHING SUIT and IN THE 7TH GRADE?"- the memory that sticks out most to me when I see this is about my dad. I remember very clearly being about 12 or 13 years old and discussing my Olympic swimming dreams with my dad as I lounged on the floor playing Nintendo. And he had the nerve to crush those dreams. He told me that I really had no chance to be an Olympic swimmer. I was incensed that he would try to demotivate me like that. I would show him! I would work hard and overcome all odds! Wait - do I smell pizza? Well, maybe I'll go practice tomorrow. As you can see from the random sampling of my awards pictured above, my dad was right. Who knew.

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Holy Ground

Oh this brings back memories. This is my orange childhood cat, Muffy. Oh - wait. I didn't have a childhood cat........I must be thinking of my orange childhood goldfish who mysteriously vanished one day. Funny - I think that might have also been the same day our toilet got backed up.....(ahem Mom!). Actually this is Linus standing on carpet salvaged from First Church of Christ's old building. Some of you might be surprised to know that I didn't like change so much and I was outraged that my church would betray me by moving buildings and getting rid of sacred artifacts such as the pizza cheese carpet. I WAS GOING TO GET MARRIED ON THIS CARPET! So my dad snagged this piece of the carpet before the old church building was burned down (on purpose).

I thought it quite fitting that Linus has developed an uncanny affinity for this carpet. Being a clergycat himself, he knows; Its Holy Ground.

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The Old Stumpster

This belonged to my friend, Lindsey, in high school. I think its best just not to ask.

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Awwwww!

Okay I'm cheating a little now. This did not come from my boxes - I found this tucked away in a box of Randy's amidst report cards and homework assignments from the fourth grade. It is a Christmas card I wrote him in 1996. And he saved it all these years. Awwwww! If we'd only known then!

"Fun With Iceland" or "Kim is Bored at Work"

2006-05-18T13:38:00.000-04:00

Ever wondered what Iceland is like? No??? Well my goal is provide you with a virtual tour of our island neighbor to the northeast and make you rue the day you said you didn't care about Iceland. Here we go....

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Tempting Cuisine
YUMMMMM - check out the national food of Iceland. Once you taste this you'll be saying "hamburger, schmamburger".

You are feasting your eyes on Þorramatur which, of course, is described as food of the þorri. Here is a description sure to tempt your tastebuds: it consists of many different types of food, for example sour ram's testicles, rotten shark, burned sheep heads, sheep's head jam, blood pudding, dried fish with butter.

Ahh - the butter makes it all good.

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Happening People

This guy is the president and this girl is Iceland's main entertainment export. Who wouldn't want to party with them?

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Easy to Understand

It will be totally easy to meet and find your new Icelandic friends. Here is a quick tutorial on their naming system. Piece of cake!

A person's last name indicates the first name of the subject's father (or mother in some cases). For example, a man named Jón Stefánsson has a son named Fjalar. Fjalar's last name will not be Stefánsson like his father's; it will become Jónsson, literally indicating that Fjalar is the son of Jón (Jóns + son).
The same practice is used for females. Jón Stefánsson's daughter Kata would not have the last name Stefánsson; she would have the name Jónsdóttir. Again, the last name literally means "Jón's daughter" (Jóns + dóttir).

One consequence of this is that in Iceland, directories of people's names, such as the phone directory, are alphabetised by given name, not by surname.
As a result, in a four-person family there might be four different last names: the married couple Jón (Stefánsson) and Bryndís (Atladóttir), and their children Fjalar (Jónsson) and Kata (Jónsdóttir). This also means that names of children do not necessarily reflect the marital status of their parents.

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The Capitol of Cool

The capitol city, Reykjavik is "The Capitol of Cool" and is described by the Icelandic Tourist Board as: "Throbbing with life by day and by night". Sign me up. And kudos to that slogan writer for a job strangely done.

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But seriously - the pictures do look pretty cool - see below. When I was contemplating doing some actual work today I was suddenly hit with the realization that I didn't know enough about Iceland - so I educated myself. And I think it would be an interesting place to visit someday - I'll just pack my own lunch.

Desperate times....

2006-05-17T22:34:00.000-04:00

Well - you know the rest of the sentence. And desperate measures, here we come. After Zipper almost sent Randy over the edge last night with her chewing, cat attacking, and overall crazy madness I decided the battle had reached a new level and I needed to begin pumping up the weaponry. I had to admit - she is out of control. I am thinking about sending a video of her into "Puppies Gone Wild". If she had a shirt, she'd be lifting it up to flash random strangers right now. But seriously, the chewing has gone too far.

Exhibit A: Sofa Pillow made by My Mom

Exhibit B: Sofa Pillow made by Big Important Sofa Pillow Company

I won't back down - I came here to win. Just wait until Zipper finds out what I have up my sleeve. The following is Super Secret Strategic Planning and I'm letting YOU in on it.

First: Offensive maneuver: Distract the enemy. Give her some temptation she can't resist - temptation that tastes a lot better than sofa pillows (one would hope).

Second: Covert Op: Make the enemy work for food. Put all her food in this ball that will only dispense a couple of kibbles at a time and only after she expends her energy pushing it around the room. The enemy won't have as much energy left to assume her identity as "Destructo Dog".

Third: Sneak Attack: When you don't have a fence to contain your enemy, hook her to a yard stake with a 15 foot line in yet another attempt to run out her energy.

Will we win the war? We can't be sure. As Leslie would say, "this one will be a real butt clincher". But the only thing we have to fear is - well - biting, chewing, peeing, pooping, cat attacking, and digging. But we should be brave and press on into the tretcherous night - fighting for truth, justice, and the American Way - and of course, maybe more importantly - undamaged sofa pillows. Wish us luck, say a prayer for the brave man and woman on the front line in Covington, and, above all remember - Freedom is not free! Fight the occupation! Don't tread on me! ....and so forth!

Hurry

2006-05-15T23:25:00.000-04:00

No time! This will be a lightning speed post, so hold onto your hats!

Afghan Antics
There seems to be some confusion about my afghan concerns. Thanks, commenters, for your well wishes that the afghan will look okay once finished. But that was never my concern - yes I know it looks like a muppet or maybe even muppet vomit - but you should feel it. You'd want to nap under it too. My concern is that I'm already tired of knitting it and I've only got about an inch. Now I have never been known for my patience (I say if it takes you more than five minutes to pick out a paint color for your wall then someone else more decisive should pick it for you) and I just don't see this materializing. Anyone placing bets should really bet against me finishing.

Brag Bag
Amber just sent me these gorgeous pictures of Linus and Zipper and I have to share because I know you just haven't seen enough pictures of the animals.

And just so Einstein doesn't feel left out, here is a stock picture of him, albeit when he was at least 6-7 pounds less tubby than he is now:

Well, kids - that's it. I'll try to post more tomorrow. I need to go to bed!

Thought of the day: In the dictionary, everything starts with 'e'.

Zookeeper

2006-05-14T22:34:00.000-04:00

Are the inmates running the asylum? Are the animals controlling the zoo? Yes they are - at least here at Chez Marksberry. I realized this tonight after I vacuumed the living room for the fourth time this weekend. Now I have known for a while that we were in trouble. We humans are, after all, outnumbered in the house and have been clinging onto a shred of what we innocently assumed was control (update: as I write I have just heard a loud, surely animal related "crash" in the other room - I'm pretending I didn't hear it - maybe it will just go away). But who are we kidding?

By way of illustration, the following is a list of occurrences at our house just this week; occurrences I know I didn't bring about and I'm pretty sure Randy didn't bring about......Which leaves only the non-human members of the tribe:

Our new area rug mysteriously has a quarter-size bald spot; I don't think Rogaine will help.
Randy started his day by stepping on what could only be referred to as a "hair log", swimming in a pool of cat saliva and stomach acid - lovingly waiting for him on our carpet.
Our ficus tree (or as Leslie would call it, the "fakeus tree" since it is artificial) has barely any fake moss left in its planter. In a related story our floor has an ever-increasing layer of fake moss. Apparently the animals are unhappy with our design style and have taken it upon themselves to begin redecorating.
The decorative photograph display that sits on our antique steamer trunk was relocated to the floor of the surrounding area.
There was a small piece of poop apparently left as an offering on our rug. The only animal who poops on the floor never poops that little. The rest was never located - which, unfortunately means that someone had a snack...)
I used up an entire lint-roller on one cushion of the couch where the cats like to sit and look out the window. On a positive note, I think I may have enough fiber for my feline-hair sweater.

In the interest of fairness (I'm nothing if not open-minded) I am letting each animal provide a brief rebuttal below. Please note that the views expressed by the animals on the Zipperific blog do not necessarily represent the views of the staff or producers of the Zipperific blog or its parent company, K&R Enterprises, Inc.

The Linus Liturgy

Name: Linus Marksberry

Nicknames: Liney-bottoms, Liner Notes, Honey Buns, Linums, Liney

Hometown: Barn in Burlington, KY

Interests: Safety, Worshiping random flickers of light, Staying away from Zipper, Impersonating a rug, studying for the priesthood

"Honestly, I don't know what she's talking about. Its the other two hellians I am forced to live with causing all the ruckus. Believe me - if I could stop them I would. I try - I tell them they are going to get in trouble and that their souls are in jeopardy. But do they care? NO. They are also in blatant disregard of the safety guidelines I have developed for the household. I wash my paws of this entire situation and if the other two end up in you know where, its not my fault. Okay - I suppose the "hair log" was my fault - but how can you blame me for that? Did I ask to be born with this beautiful mane of flowing hair?

Einstein's Musings

Name: Einstein Marksberry

Nicknames: Einers, Bubble Butt, Einey, Moron

Hometown: Girl Scout Camp Butterworth, Maineville, OH

Interests: Playing in water, Tipping water dishes over, Jumping on the trash can, grand theft, playing with plastic milk jug rings, proving how cool I am by jumping on really tall things, looking out the window, impersonating Superman.

"Whatever. I do what I want. I'm a rebel without a cause. That's just the MAN talking, tryin' to keep a kitty down..........but please don't stop feeding me."

Zipper's Zap

Name: Zipper Vienna Marksberry

Nicknames: Zippy, Zips, Zip Lock, Zipperino, Zipmeister, Little Z, puppers

Hometown: Mobile Home, deep in Flemmingsburg, KY

Interests: Food, snacks, treats, bones, water, biting, Einstein's tail, Aunt Murphy, "nesting" in the afghan basket, pooping inside, jumping off things, licking

"Look how cute I am. Don't believe the rhetoric - believe the puppy. Could these eyes ever be guilty of such destruction? I'm cute - I'm cuddely! And I love you! All of you! Lick lick."

Once again - please refer to the afore mentioned disclaimer. So now you've heard all sides of the story and it is up to you to decide who you believe. All I can say is: remember who has the opposable thumbs, here.

Crafty Lady Update

What was I thinking? Does anyone actually think this will ever metamorphasize into an actual afghan or should I stop diluting myself?

On the brighter side, I picked up the food dish I painted from being glazed and fired and it looks pretty good. Here is a "still life" and an "action" shot. Enjoy!

Spicy

2006-05-11T22:47:00.000-04:00

Ever have one of those days when you have a feeling of doom about the meal you are cooking from the moment you begin - and it turns out you were right to feel that way? When, during each major step of the recipe, you think "I should stop now - I can still pretend this never happened". But you convince yourself you're just getting tweaked and it would be irresponsible to throw out all that food. You press on despite numerous omens trying to tell you to turn back - much like the classic scary movie scenario in which the entire audience can see that the main character is ignorantly walking right into her own death trap. Well I walked into my own culinary death trap today. I was the unwitting scary movie victim armed only with a recipe off the internet and a lot of curry paste.

My husband, Randy, and I have a somewhat young interest in/obsession with cuisine of the Indian persuasion. I watch a lot of Food Network. We are on a budget. All these seemingly unrelated circumstances collided and the result was brutal. The equasion is painfully simple: Randy + Kimmie = Insatiable Desire for Indian food. Budget - ever increasing household expenses = insufficient funds for Indian Buffet at Ambar (mmmmmmm.......Ambar). Kimmie + Ham on the Street episode about Microwave Curry Chicken = Big Ideas leading to Certain Doom.

I won't bore you with all the unfortunate details but let me just sum up by telling you that some of the warning signs I should have heeded include: burning the curry paste/oil mixture to a shadow of its former self during its three minute stint in the microwave and having to start all over, realizing that I had only one can of coconut milk when the recipe called for two, not being able to figure out if the chicken was actually getting cooked, ending up with a VERY soupy mess out of a mixture that was supposed to be a creamy sauce, and forgetting to make rice to go with the dish.

Needless to say I was battered and bruised when the curry chicken was "ready" to be eaten - but, like a fool, still hanging on to hope that my efforts were not in vein. I watched with anticipation as Randy tasted the sauce before we spooned it onto our plates. I watched with amazement as he yelped and waved his hands near his mouth as if to fan his tongue and exclaimed "That is HOT, son!" I knew the situation was serious - not only because Randy has been known to sip hot sauce right out of the bottle and wouldn't be "overheated" easily, but also because I am not now nor ever have been his son. And he's never called me that before - although my Dad does frequently - which is almost as strange.

To make a long story a little shorter - that crap was HOT, son. In yet another example of my misguided hope, I tried a piece of chicken thinking that maybe IT was not as hot as the sauce........Yeah - I think my mouth is still burning. In a valiant investigative effort we tried to track down the source of the heat and have decided that the Red Curry Paste is to blame. We have never bought curry paste before and didn't know whether to select the red or green variety. We picked the red since the finished dish on the episode I watched looked more reddish than greenish. So I don't know if green is less spicy than red - if there are any curry paste aficionados out there feel free to enlighten me! I followed the recipe word for word, save one cup of Cow Milk substituted for one cup of missing Coconut Milk.

Despite our best efforts to shield our budget from unnecessary food spending we decided to go to Chipoltle to drown our sorrows. We shared a burrito - for anyone concerned about my diet efforts.

Here is where the uneaten chicken is now.

Randy put it in there to save it from my wrath - he says he can handle the heat and will take it for lunch after he does some minor modifications. More power to him - I wash my hands of the whole situation. What have I learned from this fiasco? Will I heed the warning signs during future doomed cooking expeditions? Sadly, probably not - because negative as I may be sometimes I still have a basically hopeful outlook when it comes to cooking, despite my estimates that I have about a 50% success rate. So watch for future Scary Stories from the Kitchen.

Knit Talk
I went to Michaels today after work (Randy, stop reading here - the rest of this is boring and you probably wouldn't find it the least bit interesting - in fact, it would probably be a waste of your time) - mostly because it was on my way home and I needed to use the bathroom like never before - and partly because I wanted to look at beads (why I wanted to look at beads is another story entirely). I looked at the beads and was unimpressed - and then somehow found myself in the yarn section. I was about to leave the store, unimpressed, when I saw a mirage. A beautiful but surely fleeting mirage: a large display of several varieties of $8.99/ball fuzzy novelty yarn marked down to..........wait for it...........$1.00/ball! Now this is yarn I probably would have never purchased at the original $8.99 price. But how can you pass up $1.00/ball? That's right - you can't - especially if you have been wanting to make a super soft and fuzzy afghan with big needles but didn't want to spend the money on the mountain of yarn necessary for the pattern.

So I bought this.........as well as some other, complimentary $1.00 yarn balls.

The yarn is resting on my copy of Weekend Knitting by Melanie Falick, open to a pattern called "Fluffy Afghan". So, you see, it was meant to be. Sadly, I don't have the needles required, so I couldn't start on it tonight. But that leaves tomorrow to look forward to. I can't wait until I finish this afghan - but knowing me I don't hold out much hope that it will ever be finished, since my patience isn't exactly world class. But it is certainly fun to pretend that I will finish. Self delusion isn't always bad - as long as nobody gets hurt!

Diet Success?

2006-05-10T14:08:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my second post. I haven't postd in nearly a week because of some confusion over my username which turned out to be caused by my inattention to detail. Oh well - I've never been a detail person - now I just pretend to be for work.

Though I still don't know for sure what this post is about, I think it will include stories and thoughts about puppies (and eventually dogs - when Zipper is older), orange cats and their brown and gray stripey brothers, knitting, office whining, and struggles/successes with losing weight and getting in shape.

This brings me to my topic for today - diet success. I have been on a diet since January 16th - more or less. I say more or less because at times I have been less than dedicated to the cause. But for the most part I have been following the diabetic exchange diet and exercising for four months now. So why have I not lost more than 15 pounds? I guess it goes back to that "more or less" thing. But I had a good week - on Monday I weighed in at my church's diet class and I lost three and a half pounds since the previous Monday. So I felt good about that. I still have a long way to go - but that is the price I pay for four years of eating crap, exercising too little, and undergoing four surgeries.

One tool I have found helpful in my (what seems like) never-ending diet battles is a website called Fitday. It allows you to enter the foods you eat (it has a comprehensive, searchable list of most foods including some restaurant foods and national brand packaged food) and then it calculates the number of calories eaten and even gives you a pie chart of where your calories came from (fat, protien, carbs). There are also lots of other cool features, including nutrient analysis, entering your physical activity, and tracking your weight over time. Check it out!

Baby Steps

2006-05-04T22:42:00.000-04:00

I have no idea what this blog is about. I just know that I want to create a blog - mostly for my own selfish reasons. After four years at a job where I have learned to second guess myself as second nature, I had a minor panic attack. I was writing a speech for the CEO (why she can't write it herself remains to be seen) and after two days I came to the dissapointing conclusion that the little five-paragraph speech was kicking my butt. How could a five-paragraph speech even cause me to blink twice, much less kick my butt? In college I wrote A+ speech after A+ speech - many times not even starting the process of writing them until the day they were delivered. And now a five-paragraph congratulatory speech was threatening to send me over the edge. My mini-break-down caused me to realize that, for my own sanity, I need to brush up on my writing skills in an environment where there are no rules - where I don't need to second guess myself. Where could I do this? Then it hit me - 'why the heck do I not write a blog?' So, ladies and gentlemen - here it is. In all its glory. My blog. I know you are thrilled.

So I don't even yet know exactly what this blog is about or what I want to write about each day. But it is here and that is the first of many baby steps in my journey to take back what anal office world has claimed - my soul. Oh no - wait - what I meant to say was 'take back what anal office world has claimed - my creativity and confidence'. So call it a personal quest, a new hobby, or a riteous vendetta against office oppresion. Whatever you call it - I call it Zipperific!

A quick explaination of the name. Well, if I must be completely honest, the first motivation for the name Zipperific is that its my dog's nickname and I couldn't really think of anything else on short notice (and am to0 impatient to wait until I have thought of someting better). But after further reflection I realized that the name Zipperific has inspiration. The best way to describe my puppy, Zipper (pictured on the left), is that she does everything with gusto. She is only five pounds right now and twice as long as she is tall, but when she wants to jump off of the couch she doesn't do it the timid, sissy way of stretching toward the ground and slowly inching her way down. No, no - she jumps with all four feet in front of her as if to soar to the ground - tail up and ears flopping. And this is just one example of how Zipper does everything with gusto - if she is going to do it, she wants to do it right and enjoy it. And that is how I want to live my life - starting with this blog. So maybe I am overanalyzing but oh well. It is my blog and I can do that if I want!

Thanks for reading my first post. I make no guarantees about how good the writing will be - only that it will be written with gusto. Stay tuned for further development in my hobby/personal quest/vendetta!