Okay, we all know about Punch and Judy, right? I didn't have any idea how old they were, though! We are talking Middle Ages old! I know, right? So, anyway, my Li'l Dude wanted to know who they were, and I found pure GOLD on You Tube:
Punch and Judy
Make sure you go to the bathroom first! Enjoy!
Queen of February
"I was born in the summer of my 22nd year, coming home to a place I'd never been before..."
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
derp
So, I found a new Stampin' Up demonstrator, and she lives out near Plymouth. She was having an Open House last weekend, so I made plans to go out and place my 'once a year' order. I checked my directions, gathered up my list and catalogs, and headed out. It took me about an hour, and I parked in her driveway and carefully maneuvered around the ice patches to the front door. Rang the bell, which was answered by a little girl, and I asked for her mom. She let me in, and I saw two men and a woman, casually dressed, standing in the kitchen- looking very surprised by my appearance. I stammered, "Stampin' Up?" The woman came forward and said, "The Open House was yesterday!"
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Boiled in Oil
A snapshot:
Angus! was humming. Humming one refrain of an 80's song in what can only be described as a high-pitched whine. Only it was like a record with a scratch in it. It kept repeating, repeating, repeating...
Dahtwe was jumping, upstairs, in his room. Rhythmically. Just jumping, jumping, jumping...then running up and down the stairs, through the rooms, then back upstairs to continue...jumping.
The dog barked every time I used my little hammer to put eyelets into the cards I was making. Constantly. Barking, barking, barking.
Am I in hell or just being purified, you know, boiled in oil?
Angus! was humming. Humming one refrain of an 80's song in what can only be described as a high-pitched whine. Only it was like a record with a scratch in it. It kept repeating, repeating, repeating...
Dahtwe was jumping, upstairs, in his room. Rhythmically. Just jumping, jumping, jumping...then running up and down the stairs, through the rooms, then back upstairs to continue...jumping.
The dog barked every time I used my little hammer to put eyelets into the cards I was making. Constantly. Barking, barking, barking.
Am I in hell or just being purified, you know, boiled in oil?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A Wicked Nor'eastah...
Saturday, December 25, 2010
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