Everyone has a birthday, even if at times they’d like to pretend they didn’t. Whether getting older is good or bad all depends on how you look at it. As of yet I’m undecided, but my husband seems to think it’s a blast. It’s his birthday today. That’s right, on this day 48 years ago the world became a better place.
Happy birthday to the best husband in the world.
We haven’t gotten around to getting a lawnmower yet and the backyard is starting to look a bit like the Amazon Rainforest– if all the plants in the rainforest were no more than five inches tall of course.
I’m sure the Amazon rainforest has a lot of edible things growing in it. I’m sure there are a ton of plants that will kill you in a few seconds growing there too. The secret is knowing what will kill you from what will taste great with a little salt and pepper.
Sometimes I sit on the back step and wonder the same thing about the plants growing in the yard. The fluffy leafy little plants that grow around the roots of the jacaranda tree look edible to me. The other day I picked a tiny bit of leaf and popped in my mouth.
“What are you doing?” my husband exclaimed, “That could kill you.”
“Maybe,” I said, “Maybe not.” Normally I’m the overly cautious one. I guess I was having an off day.
It didn’t kill me, but it also didn’t taste very good. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again, not until I know what I’m eating at least.
Have you ever gone somewhere and really wished you had a hanger? I do all the time. I need to keep the hoodie I got at Kmart looking nice. That’s why I was so happy to find this nifty inflatable one. It’s perfect for the woman on the go.
Just fold it up and put it in your purse.
It’s easy to blow up.
I probably shouldn’t have hung it on the light like that, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.
Happy Valentine’s Day!!! Did that seem enthusiastic enough to you? Valentine’s Day is kind of a non-holiday to me. I much prefer a holiday that involves a big sale, like Presidents’ Day or Labor Day. I love celebrating presidents and honest hard work by getting 50 percent off a new set of sheets.
I am aware that most of the world celebrates Valentines Day. So I have a few quotes about love for you along with my own comments and additions.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. ~ Emily Bronte
That’s interesting because I swear my soul is made of liverwurst. I was hoping that my husband’s was made of crackers because that would make a much better match than liverwurst and liverwurst.
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. ~ Albert Einstein
… but it is responsible for all the falling down I do.
When you are in love you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. ~ Dr. Seuss
… and all this time I thought it was my husband’s snoring keeping me awake … oh wait, that’s actually my own snoring.
I was really bummed when I realized I couldn’t pee while standing up without it dripping down my legs and completely messing up my outfit. Now that I’ve got a Go Girl I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Go Girl 
We went to the Tampa Bay Home Show this weekend because we hope to be homeowners soon. You know those things where lots of companies set up booths in a large space and try desperately to sell to you. I hate those things.
There were tons of booths and tons of things to see, but the most interesting thing had nothing to do with homes at all. It looked kind of like this:
I had no idea that they allowed Martians to set up booths at home shows. I still can’t figure out how they were convincing people to pay to have all their memories downloaded to the mothership. They must have some great sales training programs on Mars.
NOTE: The picture above is just a loose interruption of the scene. I’m pretty sure that most of the people at the booth had arms and were wearing clothes.
I’m here to admit that all the stuff about the underground bunker in the last post wasn’t true. My parents don’t have a bunker under their condo. I just had to set the record straight to avoid any problems from the condo association. My parents got hassled enough when they replaced their windows, so I know an underground bunker wouldn’t go down well at all.
We really do have a family Christmas tradition. It happens most years without fail and we like to affectionately call it, Pam-I-Don’t-Feel-Good. As Christmas Day progresses Pam-I-Don’t-Feel-Good can morph into another tradition that we like to call I-Have-To-Go-To-The-Emergency-Room.
This year there was no emergency room visit, but the Pam-I-Don’t-Feel-Good tradition continued. It was manifested in the form of low back pain that prevented my father from carrying anything and made him walk extremely slowly, and of course, there was a lot of complaining. What’s Christmas without an ailment and complaints? It’s nothing.
The world didn’t end, so I guess not buying Christmas presents for anyone was a bad move on my part. Seriously, what are you going to do with a new Nook Color during the zombie apocalypse? While I think it would be air dynamic enough to hurl at an approaching ghoul, it certainly doesn’t weigh enough to bash in any brains.
I could battle the crowd of desperate shoppers at the mall to buy anything that is still in stock. “Oh, look they have a perfectly good tuna scented candle on sale for half off. Now who in my family really likes tuna?” Or I could smile really big and hope no one notices that I didn’t get them anything. Luckily, my family doesn’t really celebrate Christmas so I know no one has gotten me anything either.
Instead of exchanging gifts on Christmas Day, we hunker down in the bomb shelter my father has dug under the condo, eat military style rations, drink Tang, and wait for the world to end. It’s big fun. You should try it some time. Seriously, once you have you’ll never have a normal Christmas again.
Season’s Greetings from the Hunter Family bunker where we celebrate Christmas Mooch Style.
I love visiting the SPCA website so I can choose the dog I’ve always wanted, but will never get. The other day when I went to the site I saw a dog that looked surprisingly like my father. Meet Big Boy.
Big Boy
My father
Yesterday I decided to teach myself to speed read. Not because I’m a slow reader, but because I just thought it might be a good skill to have. How impressive would it be if I could read an entire book in a day! Hi, my name is Lovelyn and I read all of War and Peace yesterday. Come on, I know that statement impressed you.
The first step to learning how to speed read is grabbing a random book from the shelf and trying to read it really really fast. Once I realized that wasn’t working out very well, I decided to search for instructions online. I found these from Tim Ferris, of course.
Why do speed reading instructions have to be so long and complicated? Good grief, you already have to know how to speed read just to get through the speed reading instructions. I had allotted 25 minutes out of my busy work day of checking Facebook and updating my Twitter account to teach myself how to speed read, but the instructions seemed like they’d take 20 of those minutes to read. Still I pressed ahead … until I got to the part that involved math.
What the heck does multiplication have to do with reading all of Moby Dick in one day? Nothing that’s what. With that my dreams of speed reading were dashed. The allotted time was up and I had to get back to doing more important things, like watching this …
