Losing It.

In the past few years,

I’ve lost parts of myself.

Little by little,

I’m being whittled away.

I’ve lost my gallbladder.

My wisdom teeth.

My uterus.

I’ve had parts of my cervix sliced out.

I’ve had skin biopsies.

And just last week I had a mole removed from my face.

Wack-A-Mole

I think this is why we all become “little old ladies”.

Of course we are little when we’re old!

Many of our parts have been taken from us.

We’re like zombies,

Parts falling off.

And still we continue on.

While sleeping, my body parts have held a meeting

and decided that my hearing will be the next thing to go.

I’ve already lost a lot of my memory,

my eyesight is not what it used to be,

and now my hearing has decided to follow suit.

A while back, my dear, sweet husband stated,

“We’ll go to Target in a little bit.”

What I heard was,

“You’re a retarded little bitch.”

He's still alive.

Holly

xxx-ooo

Gators and Pie

Found this in my House.

Super excited about that.

Did you know that Arizona is a stupid place to live?

It is.

We got gators.

What does one do when she finds a gator in the house?

She bakes pie.

Totally unrelated.

Messy pie.

I'm not very good at crimping my edges.

It's one of my many flaws.

Get over it.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Pastry

2 cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp salt
6 Tbsp each cold butter, cut in small pieces, and trans-fat-free shortening
1 Tbsp lemon juice
2 to 4 Tbsp cold water

Filling
1¼ lb rhubarb, trimmed and cut into ½-in. slices
1 container (16 oz) strawberries, hulled and halved
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup sugar
¼ cup cornstarch
1 tsp ground ginger
1 Tbsp butter, cut in small pieces
1½ Tbsp sugar

1. Pastry: In food processor, pulse flour, salt, butter and shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. With motor running, add lemon juice, then water, 1 Tbsp at a time, just until dough separates from sides of bowl.

2. Gather dough into a ball and divide in half. Press each half into a disk. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate 1 hour or until firm enough to roll out.

3. Place a sheet of foil on a rimmed baking pan on bottom rack to catch any juices. Heat oven to 425°F. Coat a 9-in. pie plate with nonstick spray.

4. Roll out 1 dough disk on lightly floured surface or between 2 sheets of wax paper to a 12-in. circle. Fit dough into pie plate, pressing gently onto bottom and up sides. Roll out remaining disk as above into an 11-in. circle.

5. Filling: Toss rhubarb and strawberries with vanilla in large bowl. Mix sugar, cornstarch and ginger in a small bowl until blended; toss with berry mixture to evenly coat. Spoon into pastry-lined pie plate; dot with butter.

6. Arrange second crust onto the filling and cut vents into crust. Press ends into edge, fold under and crimp. Brush strips with water; sprinkle with sugar.

7. Place pie on center oven rack; bake 25 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350°F, rotate pie 180 degrees and bake 50 minutes more (loosely shield pie with foil if crust gets too brown) until crust is golden and filling bubbles. Cool on wire rack. Serve at room temperature

Holly

xxx-ooo

I Would Be Awesome

I’ve been thinking a lot about time traveling lately.

I’m thinking it’s possible.

But I’m not sure.

I am pretty certain, however, that one can’t time travel

to the same time that the person already exists.

For instance, I was born in 1965 and it is now 2011.

I am already here and so I couldn’t travel to 1984

because I already exist at that time.

And I think it has something to do with my atoms clashing,

or something like that.

I can only have so many

“Holly Atoms” in one place at one time.

I would have to either go back before 1965

or go into the future sometime after I’ve died.

But I don’t know when that is yet.

And by the time I found out when that was,

I’d be dead and wouldn’t know.

I could, I guess, go into the future around 2081

since I’m pretty sure I’m not going

 to be alive 70 years from now.

But I wouldn’t want to go into the future.

The past is definitely the way to go.

If you travel into the future,

You’d be all stupid.

You would have missed so much.

You’d stare at flying cars and be all like,

“What the hell is that???!!!”

And people on the street would think you

were a drunk, crazy, homeless person.

Nope, the past is totally the way to go.

Because then I could invent the tape measure

or make a caramel macchiato and people would be all,

“Holy Crap! How did you do that?!”

And then I’d be all,

“Oh, it’s just something I came up with.”

All nonchalant like.

That would be awesome.

You know, I’m just full of ideas, all day long

I’m not saying they’re good ideas.

I’m just saying I’m full of them.

Holly

xxx-ooo

You're More Than Welcome

You are more than welcome in my home.

But if I like you

You shall be renamed.

No one around here goes by their given names

I really don’t know why this is.

Or how the names evolve.

I mean to say

I do know how the names are given.

I do the renaming.
But I have no idea where they come from.

Or what they mean.

My son Daniel is known as:

Boone or Boonebus or Booney

My daughter Katie is known as:

Pudd, Kato, or Kazoo

My husband, Brian, has more names than I can list.

These names change daily.

Depending on my mood.

Lately, he’s been known as

Bubby, Mister, Doodle Bug, and Bobsey Woodcock.

These mean nothing.

Also, this renaming is nothing new.

I renamed my friends in high school too.

No Face

Jilly Bean

Boobs

So, come on over.

Let’s spend some time together.

Holly

xxx-ooo

I Feel Saucy

I Feel Saucy.

Kinda Like This.

Only more roundy-like.

And with shorter legs.

And shorter hair.

And butt dimples.

Other than that,

I feel just like that.

Because I've been wearing sundresses.

I've never been a sundress wearer until this summer.

But let me tell you a thing or two.

They are delightful.

Easy to throw on when in a hurry.

Like Meemaw's mumu only cuter.

They hide tummy bulges,

and ugly thighs.

I want to wear them everywhere.

I want to be known as the girl in the sundress.

Or the lady, whatever.

And when you're riding around in the car you can blow

the air conditioner straight up your skirt.

It's not only allowed,

it's actually encouraged by passing truck drivers.

I should know.

I'm married to a bonafide truck driver.

He tells me these things.

So throw on a sundress.

Feel Saucy.

Or Don't.

Whatever blows your skirt up.

Linking up here:

Holly

xxx-ooo

Awesome is Just That

Hello!

My name is Holly 

and today I will be your Product Review Specialist.

It's a self appointed title.

And I am humbled to have this honor bestowed upon me.

By me.

Let's just move along, shall we?

I want to tell you all about a product line

that I've come to love.

I first talked to you about it back here in September.

LA's Totally Awesome

This is a spot remover and degreaser.

I use it on my appliances.

Works like magic on the panel of the stove

 behind the knobs where the grease can be bad.

Just spray and wipe.

I have used both the window cleaner

and the carpet cleaner.

They are both just as good as the expensive name brands.

The window cleaner has never left streaks.

I have not used the detergent but

I do use the fabric softener.

Why do we pronounce the "t" in soft.

But we don't when we say softener?

I don't like that.

Jo was an English teacher

so perhaps she can clear this up for us.

Or clear it up for me if no one else cares.

I care, Jo.

I care.

Where was I?

Oh, the fabric softener.

Works just like Downy

or the other expensive brands.

LA's Totally Awesome has a huge product line

which you can find here.

And the best thing about it?

All these products are

One Dollar!

I don't believe you heard me!

ONE DOLLAR!

$1.00

100 pennies

Uno Buckaroo.

You can find these products at any of these stores:

And don't even try to tell me that you don't have a dollar store in your town.

When my husband and I drive through different towns,

 it's a game we play.

Count the Dollar Stores.

Fun, aren't we?

You may not have a post office,

gas station,

library,

or even a stop sign.

But I'll bet you've got at least three dollar stores.

Also, I just want to say that I don't think they should be

allowed to call themselves dollar stores if they sell things for over a dollar.

This irks me.

I just looked up the definition of irked:

irk (ûrk)

To be irritating, wearisome, or vexing to.

So yes, that would be correct.

It vexes the heck outta me.

I should probably go now.

Holly

xxx-ooo

Saturdays are Made of This

Lazy Days.
Sleeping in.
Watching Lifetime Movies.
(or as Brian calls it "The crying channel")
Ordering a Ham and pineapple pizza.

Ignoring the dishes in the sink.

Not making the bed

because Saturdays are all about naps.

Playing this.

And having a nice cool summer treat for desert.

You have probably made a version of this yourself

since it's been around forever.

But it's a favorite around here in the summer

so I thought I'd share the recipe for you.

Easiest Pie Recipe Ever!

Lemon Ice Box Pie

1 graham cracker crust

2/3 c. fresh squeezed lemon juice

1 can sweetened condensed milk

18 oz. container Cool Whip

Mix lemon juice and sweetened condensed milk.

Add Cool Whip and beat until fluffy.

Pour into graham cracker crust and

refrigerate for at least two hours. 

I like to garnish

with fresh strawberries.

It's truly yummy!
I've also seen it made with frozen lemonade
but I've never used it.

It's not too late,
I hear you can do this on Sundays too!

Holly

xxx-ooo

I May Have Ruined Him

A very true story.

In 1984, during my senior year in high school,

I took a class called JAG.

JAG stands for Jobs For America's Graduates.

The ultimate objective of the JAG program

is to provide students with classroom and

work-based learning experiences that result

in a quality job leading to a

career after graduation.

Sounds good right?

I can see why my parents fell for this.

Our teacher's name was Angel.

He used to teach Spanish
and Driver's Ed.

We were never given any books.

Or lectures.

It's the only senior class I took that I remember.

There were eight very high tables in the classroom.

With six stools each.

No one ever sat in those stools.

We always sat on the tables.

I remember always trying to grab the table

next to the wall that had the outlet.

Because I could plug in my curling iron there.

We curled our hair and

painted our toenails in that class.

Angel allowed us to take smoke breaks.

And sometimes a run to Circle K for slushies.

We took naps.

Angel read People magazines.

At the end of the year, we all went to a

2 day JAG conference in Tucson.

It was held at a large hotel and there were

several other high schools in attendance.

One evening, while sitting out by the pool,

smoking cigarettes and drinking the wine coolers

that Angel provided for us,

Leif Garrett came into the pool area.

This Leif Garrett:

Not this Leif Garrett:

Although they are the same person.

If you don't know who Leif Garrett is then you are

probably too young to be reading this blog.

Or have better taste than I do.

He kind of strutted around with some friends of his,

and did cannonballs in the pool and tried to woo

us with his fancy diving skills.

He then walked up to me,

took a drag off my cigarette,

took a drink from my wine cooler,

and then kissed me.

Like, seriously kissed me.

I was more than a little grossed out.

But I said nothing.

I was completely blank.

No witty, effective reply.

My nimble, alert mind had failed me.

Apparently, JAG hadn't prepared me

for the art of quick mindedness,

and I blame it on Angel.

Or maybe the wine coolers.

Be honest with me,

do you think it's possible that my

lack of enthusiasm with Leif

could have been his downfall?

Holly

xxx-ooo

Today is Not Friday

This morning while sitting on the patio enjoying

 a nice cool breeze and a cup of coffee

I announced to my Dear Husband, “It’s Friday!”

He gave me a strange look.

I then launched into a tirade.

“What??!! You think just because I don’t work

as hard as you do that I can’t enjoy it being Friday

and look forward to the weekend?!!

I enjoy the weekends just as much as you do,

I may not work all that many hours but I am allowed

to be happy it’s Friday, you know!”

He just smiles and says “It’s Thursday.”

Oh.

Sensitive much?

I think I'm being held hostage by my hormones.

I've been blindfolded, hog tied,

and left in a hot sweaty heap.

I have always had a happy-go-lucky personality.

In the past week I've gone from being

subdued, quiet and morose

to feeling quite spastic and

wanting to slap the smiles off people's faces.

I've been tired and in need of several daily naps.

I've been forgetful.

In the middle of a sentence I completely

forget what I'm talking about.

So I just shrug and make it look like it's just too painful

to discuss.

Whatever it was.

For those of you that do know me,

I can't blame it all on menopause.

I've been confused for a long time.

Holly

xxx-ooo

Have you Unfollowed Me Yet?

You just don't know how many true friends you have

until you stop blogging for a while and get screamed at.

Lovely screams.

It's been a week since I've posted anything.

And I've heard about it.

Isn't that nice?

I've received emails, phone calls and even a sweet ecard.

All wondering if I was dead.

I'm not.

I assure you.

I'm am most certainly, probably alive and well.

These pictures have nothing to do with this post.

I just like a post with pictures, don't you?

Where have I been?

A dear sweet friend of ours passed away.

So there was a funeral.

Another friend is very sick.

So there is soup to be delivered.

More derm appointments to cut stuff off my face.

A bout with depression.

Which was really weird since that's never happened before.

Just couldn't get out of bed for a few days.

I feel fine now.

Did you know that being depressed is not fun?

I haven't read any blogs in the past week.

But know I love you all.

Really.

Thank you to those of you who wrote

and called to make sure I was among the living.

That's all I have for now,

I'll try to come up with something witty soon.

Holly

xxx-ooo

The Ridiculousness of it is Ridiculous

Closet Cleaning Day!!

Woo Hoo!

I don't consider myself to be a shoe person.

I rarely even look at shoes when I go shopping.

So how does this happen?

Most of these shoes are at least five years old.

Some are ten.

Many are dust covered and disgusting.

I found a couple pairs I didn't know I had.

Got them sorted, and cleaned up.

8 pairs are off to Goodwill.

3 pairs were tossed, too grody for anyone.

The rest are nicely organized.

My closet is bulging.

I pulled out my winter sweaters to store in the attic.

I guess I like gray.

I didn't know that until now.

Brian has the day off so we're going to be heading out shortly.

Not shoe shopping.

No idea but I'm taking my camera.

On another note,

I got an email from my Dad.

He's putting his house on the market in New Mexico.

And moving back here!!!

I couldn't be more thrilled!

And another note, I have lots of notes, you see.

I've recently gotten some comments about word verifications

and how weird they have been lately.

Sheryl got the word illegal.

Pat got both diquick and warti and didn't care for either.

I'm thinking it might be fun for people to leave me their

word verifications in the comments section and I would

pick a winner at the end of the week.

I have no idea what the prize would be.

What are your thoughts?

Shouldn't there be some commitee or something to be checking these out?

Have a great day!

Holly

xx-oo

When Rednecks Get Hot

117 degrees in Phoenix today.

No pool.

No problem.

Recipe for Redneck Cool Down:

2 lawn chairs

1 Diet Coke

1 Diet Mountain Dew

Sprinklers on full blast

2 Idiots

Have a Loverly Day,

Holly

xxx-ooo

How to Live in Phoenix

If you lived here in Phoenix and it was 117 degrees,

You would cut your hair often believing that this would keep you cool.

It actually will not.

Lovely Webcam photo.

And you would buy really cute Vera Wang Flip Flops

 from Kohl's with your Kohl's cash so they only cost $4.00.

Obviously it is not necessarily important to get a pedicure

or paint your toenails.

Or shave your big toe.

And anytime you get in the car,

You must have the necessities.

Diet Mountain Dew for the Mister.

Diet Coke in an environmentally incorrect Styrofoam cup for me.

Don't judge me.

And a granola bar.

And a hat.

Heading out shortly to meet Jo for some retail therapy.

She's says she has gray roots

so I'm not going to worry about shaving my toe.

No cameras allowed today.

Holly

xxx-ooo