With My Favorite Red Spoon

When I was little, there was always room for everyone at Mamo's dining table. Jill and I always sat together so we could continue our non-stop streak of holiday giggling.

One holiday, we thought it would be hilarious to fling a piece of corn across the table. We hid the spoon between us and put a piece of corn in. We held the spoon together and prepared for launch.

But we would never do it. We were good kids. Or rather, we just didn't want to get in trouble.

I'm not sure what happened. Maybe we were laughing so hard that we were convulsing. Perhaps our subconscious desires took over.

Somehow we let go of the end of the spoon and suddenly it was all slow motion. The corn sailed over the table and onto the floor. Our mouths dropped open in horror as we knew we'd get in trouble.

We looked around the table. Did our mothers see it? No! They're gabbing away! Our dads are busy chowing down! We got away with--

And then we saw BJ's face. His eyes were open wide, a forkful of food stopped just short of his mouth.

In a stare-down that lasted a few seconds but seemed like forever, we fretted. Would he tell on us? We held our breaths.

And then BJ just shook his head and continued eating. We could breathe again! And stop playing with our food.

I didn't fling any food today, but only because Jill wasn't there to trick me into doing bad things!

Happy Turkey Day!

Get Your Hair Did

I'm getting my hair did tomorrow. I will pay more than the $4.99 BJ paid for this haircut.

You get what you pay for.

And I Know I'm Countin' Good Times

Twenty five years ago today, I was the cutest flower girl ever.

Okay. So I might have had some competition from my cousin Jill. No really! It was a serious competition!

Our mothers made our dresses and when I saw Jill's, I was crazy jealous. Hers was longer! That made the pink ruffled dress so much more sophisticated! I was so mad at my mom!

Someone pointed us toward our flower baskets and we rushed to them. Jill beat me to the table. I'm sure it had something to do with her long dress and nothing with the fact that she has always been a way better athlete than me.

Jill grabbed a basket and of course it was the best one! The ribbons were better, there were more flowers . . . why does she get everything?

But, being the experienced flower girl I was, I sucked it up and put on a stellar performance.

But who was the happily-getting-hitched couple?

Oh come on, kids! It's no laughing matter! You've made it twenty five years! That's a freaking miracle!

If you know BJ, you totally know what I mean.

Happy Anniversary!

So Don't Think That You're Going

Wednesday is my "Jacque and Evan Day."

It seems I as always going over there at least once a week and Wednesday just always seemed to work out well. So now, it's the norm.

It's always pretty awesome when I arrive. The dogs are always super excited to see me so I have to stop by the fence to say hello.

The best part is when I knock on the door and I can hear Evan flipping out inside. "BEE!!! MOMMA!!! BEE!!!!"

I usually spend Sundays with BJ, Doll and the original poomongers.

Last Sunday, I walked in the door and ran into Bret, who was trying to lock the door before I could get inside. Then BJ realized who walked in. "Son of a . . .! Get out!"

When Doll walked in, she scowled at me. "When did she get here?"

"I don't know," replied BJ. "Get her out!"

When Mitch arrived home, his first question was "What's she doing here?"

Well. Family keeps you grounded.

I Think My Head is Gonna Explode

I know you're all dying to find out how the relish tray turned out.

I walked out of the door with six different dips; spinach and herb, asiago, cilantro, bacon, fiesta and key lime. I also had flour tortilla chips, pretzels graham crackers and graham pretzels.

What I was most proud of, though, was my beautiful vegetable platter. There were baby carrots, green onions, cherry tomatoes, celery, peppers in three colors, broccoli and the aforementioned purple cauliflower.

I don't even like most of those vegetables but I painstakingly cut each piece and arranged it carefully on a tray. I was amazed by my awesomness.

I was intending to hitch a ride with BJ and was told the Nitro would be pulling out at nine. He, as usual, made a big deal about how if I showed up even one minute late, he'd be gone. I didn't sleep well. I kept waking up, worried that my alarm wouldn't go off.

That alarm was going off extra early, too. I wanted to make sure I had time to properly prepare the vegetables. I'm not much of a morning person anyway, but with the cold temperature and lack of decent sleep, I was cranky.

The vegetables took longer than I had expected so I was running later than I had scheduled. But even behind schedule, I had the key in the lock of my car door at eight thirty which gave me plenty of time to make it to BJ's.

I lifted the handle on the door and pulled. The door would not open. I tugged some more. Still nothing. I tried the passenger side door and again, no luck.

See, these Buicks . . . there's something about the doors. When it gets cold, they don't want to open. It wasn't even that cold!

I pulled and pulled and then I heard a crack and knew without looking what had happened.

Engage complete meltdown.

Too Many Blessings, Too Little Appreciation

We're having Thanksgiving at the cabin, so I won't get to hang out with the goats and chickens this year.

I'm in charge of the relish tray and BJ is having panic attacks over the fact that I'm not making dill dip. It doesn't matter that I'm bringing a thousand different dips. He's not good with change.

Wait until he sees I got purple cauliflower!

I'm sure, as always, my family will make Thanksgiving . . . special. I hope yours is special--but in the good way--and full of pumpkin pie!

Happy Thanksgiving!

You're Old Enough to Know

As I previously mentioned, I'm trying to participate in NaNoReMo.

I had planned to buy the book and follow the syllabus. I finally bought the book on Sunday.

The cashier struck up conversation as he was scanning my purchases. "The phrase comes from this book, you know."

"Uh. Yeah."

"It's been a long time since I've read the book so I don't really remember, but there's this theory that you could start the book from any chapter and still know what's going on."

I thought about testing the theory, but decided to go with my original plan. As I've been reading the book, I can see how the theory might be true.

The book reads like a bunch of short stories that all happen in the same place. This may change--I'm only through chapter eight. I'd like to see someone else try it.

Tonight, BJ called and asked what I was doing.

"I'm reading Catch-22."

"I've seen that movie!" He exclaimed. "They burn books!"

"I think that's Fahrenheit 451."

"Same thing!"

I Throw it Back to Quench This Thirst

My uncle BJ is a bit anal at times. Other times, he goes completely opposite.

For example, lets talk about his issues with littering the yard.

One day, I was hanging out at their place. I drank a can of Dr Pepper and set my can down beside me.

"You'd better throw that out!" BJ ordered.

Too lazy to get up right away, I brushed him off. "I'll get it later."

As the afternoon went on (which means, every five minutes), BJ would remind me that my can was still sitting there.

"I'll get it!" I kept telling him as I rolled my eyes.

He's like that. He'll keep badgering you until you give in to his demands. But I'm stubborn. So anything he asks me to do usually doesn't get done until just before I leave.

After I got home that night, I called BJ. "I forgot to throw out my pop can!"

"I know! I'm gonna kill you!"

"I can't believe it! I meant to get it! I just forgot!"

"It was like a movie! i saw it and it's like I zoomed in on it!"

No really. He was that angry. He still brings it up several years later.

But then he takes the other road. Like during my first Fourth of July in Wichita.

I was trying to be a good girl and got up from my lawn chair to throw my bottle in the recycling bin. BJ stopped me. "Throw it in the yard like you're supposed to!"

I did as I was told and continued to throw my bottles and cans into the yard for the rest of the night. At the end of the holiday, the yard had quite a display of used fireworks and litter.

You can see, now, how it's hard to tell where BJ will stand when it comes to litter.

At Mitch's graduation party, our family mostly hung out in the back yard. When we would finish a drink, we'd toss the bottle in the corner of the yard. When BJ came back, he flipped out and started picking them up.

Of course we laughed and as soon as BJ turned to walk away, another bottle flew by him. "Who threw that?"

He left to mingle with people in the front yard and we continued to litter the back yard.

Jeremy must be getting old. Instead of joining in the fun, he would pick up our trash and throw it away. Luckily, he couldn't keep up and eventually surrendered.

As the day went on and Jill drank more beer, the more obsessed she got with throwing bottles. She was a maniac! She would zero in on a person getting ready to finish their drink and hover until she could snatch it away and toss it clear across the yard. If anyone left their bottle around for more than five minutes, she'd claim it. And if neither of those opportunities were presented, she'd chug her beer and toss it.

All through this, BJ would yell "Who threw that? I'm serious . . ."

The way he yelled and crouched down to pick the bottles up brought glee to our evil hearts.

I went to the garage to grab another drink and noticed the bottle and can bin was full. I hatched a brilliant plan and shared it with Jill.

"We should go grab the bin and dump it all over the yard!"

Of course Jill was all into the idea. Joe, not so much. He and Jeremy must think they're mature or something. Joe kept trying to talk us out of it.

Like we would listen!

We hurried over to the garage just in time to see BJ bagging the trash. But we didn't give up. We decided to wait for him to bring around the bag and just pull crap from that.

Jingle. Giggle. CLANK! We weren't very quiet about getting the bottles. We grabbed as many as our little hands could hold and rushed off to scatter them in the yard. But that wasn't enough. We went back for more.

As we clanked and clattered with BJ standing just a few feet away in the garage, we laughed our bums off about how clever we were.

"What's that noise?"

We were caught! Somehow BJ had heard our bottles clanging at eleventy billion decibels.. "Who's back there? What's going on?"

Jill and I ran for our lives, still clutching some bottles. We rounded the corner of the house and I, thinking Jill would take the same rout she had before, got rid of the evidence. I dropped the bottles one by one as I ran.

Turns out Jill hadn't gone her old route. She stayed right behind me and as I dropped each bottle, she had to hurdle them to keep from falling. She thought I was trying to pin everything on her.

"Who did this?" BJ demanded to know. Apparently, he couldn't figure us out as the culprits even though we were laughing and peeing ourselves like we did when we were three.

He was pretty grumpy at us when he put it together. "I'll remember this. I won't forget how you treated your poor Unckie."

"Oh please. You'd think it was hilarious if it wasn't your yard!"

Very quietly, BJ admitted "Yeah. But don't do it again!"

This weekend, my dad's side of the family is getting together for the first time since that fiasco. My cousin Chad got married last weekend and we're celebrating this weekend.

Do you think it will be rude if we throw our finished drinks on the Elks Lodge floor?

But it's Brilliant Anyway

Have a happy and safe Independence Day!

Or as BJ will be saying all day, "Hooray for John Adams, second president of the United States of America for giving us the Fourth of July!"

It Could Last You Forever

I like Mexican food. A lot.

It seems like BJ always manages to call me when I'm eating Mexican. Like the other night:

"What are you doing?"

"Eating."

"Eating what? A burrito? A taco?"

"A frozen burrito. Howcome you always call when I'm eating Mexican?"

"Because that's all you ever eat!"

Which is totally true! I practically live on Mexican! Especially Amy's Organic Burritos.

Which is why I'm considering having this tunnel branched off into my home.

Traduje esto al español porque no deseé estropear el artículo. Es así que largo y llenado del detalle, tuve que realmente luchar el impulso de creer.

Wrong Place Wrong Car

Saturday, BJ and I headed to Lawrence for the KU vs. KSU football game. Unlike last week, I left the purple at home and donned crimson and blue.

If you've ever been to KU's campus, you know that there is very little parking. When you have a record crowd of 51,821 people jamming themselves into Memorial Stadium, the little parking available might-as-well be non-existent!

I had decided it would be easiest to park at Raw and Casey's apartment complex. Sure, it was a good mile or so away, and walking back would be pretty much all uphill, but we wouldn't get stuck for hours just to get out of our parking place.

BJ was a little uneasy about the idea. He was afraid that without a parking permit, his vehicle would get towed. It took Casey and me about twenty minutes to convince him otherwise.

The game was pretty cool. I'll have more to tell you once the pictures decide to upload correctly.

We made it up the hill after the game and lo and behold . . . the car was gone!

No. It wasn't. But can you imagine what BJ's face would've looked like?

The next day, Raw called me.

"I just have to know something."

Am I the only one who thinks comments like that sound ominous?

"Did you have a note on your car when you left last night?"

"Noo . . .?"

"What does BJ drive?"

I tried to figure out why she was asking. I was figuring someone had complained about the big SUV in the lot.

"Is it black?"

"No. It's red. Did you put a note on the car?"

Raw giggled in her oh-man-I'm-so-embarassed way. "Yes! I wrote up a note about how you had to have a permit to park in this lot! 'Remove your vehicle before it is towed,' I wrote! I put it on the car that had a bunch of K-State stuff on it!"

We got a good laugh and then I called BJ immediately. He had about two chuckles before he said "She's even stupider than you! If that's possible!"

Poop Loser

No, the new brownness of the site is not in honor of "poop week" here at Heart, Aunt Bee.

Back when I started this ranting, I was looking around at other websites and noticed several that used labels, much the way that Flickr uses tags.

Basically, it's like writing something up and then telling the computer to "file that under family!"

You'll find all the labels listed at the end of the brown sidebar to your right. There aren't many there, now. And you'll only find the most recent posts, unless I decide to go through all the old ones and label them.

If every thing works right, though, you should be able to click on the label "family" and find all the posts I've written about family.

Or, for example, you could find the following under bj, family and poop:

When I was really young, a bunch of my family was hanging out at my grandma and grandpa's home. When it was time to go home, we were all lingering in the drive, saying goodbyes, as families do.

I was just minding my own business when suddenly I felt something really really warm hit me on top of the head.

I yelled at my uncle BJ, thinking he had thrown mud at me.

Now, really. BJ is pretty ridiculous, but who would throw mud at a kid?

It turned out, a bird been flying overhead and decided to poop right on my pretty head.

And that, my friends, is the end of poop week.

Please have a good Labor Day Weekend. But don't labor so hard you get hemorrhoids!

I swear, that was the real end of poop week. I just couldn't help myself.