Yaye's Second Favorite Show on the TV

Oh. My. Jiminy Chricket.

Though no TV show can usurp "Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List" as my favorite (when it's on the air), "Hey Paula" is a close second.

Last night was the "Sneak Peek" and then premiere of Paula Abdul's new reality show on Bravo (damn me if I could see a difference between the Sneak Peak and the premiere!). Brilliant stuff, my friends.

In a nutshell, Ms. Abdul is a high-functioning mess. I shan't speculate on what causes the slurred speech, manic eye-rolling, verbal-diarrhea incoherence, giggly inappropriate flirtation, or tendency to fall asleep in the middle of a business meeting -- her publicist wants us to believe it's all due to insomnia and a heavy work schedule -- but I do know it's damn fine entertainment!

Can you say schadenfreude?

Best Diet Ever 10 pounds in 2 weeks...by Tallulah

So, as our readers know, I live in the teeniest weeniest little town, not ever, but pretty darn close, in West by gawd Virginia. After living the majority of my life in Los Angeles I have moved to territory unknown. My life in LA as a kid was stable, well not stable, but stable enough that I had one dentist from the time I began to have teeth until the time I moved. And because I always had my teeth taken care of immediately, I never had major problems. Well I've had major problems like broken teeth...did you know that silver amalgam fillings swell as time goes by and cracks your teeth? I was a purveyor of cavities as a wee one, my mouth was full of the silver. But when I would get looked at back "home" regularly if there was a hairline crack it would be immediately remedied. Therefore I never experienced true teeth pain from cracked teeth.

Flash forward to June 2007...the only two people in my family that have a regular doctor or dentist is my son and Mr. T. I have not been sick so I have just been putting off basic health care. Not just because of my distrust of doctors and dentists, but I have no health insurance and it's damn expensive. It's not for lack of trying to have insurance, did you know that if you move to a rural area 45 minutes away from an emergency room, you can't get health insurance? Yeah, I didn't know that either until after I bought the farm...literally. I did finally find some, for $1200 per month with a $10,000 deductible...sadly that's more than I make some years in the freelance world. Oh and forget about dental insurance. But I digress

Three weeks ago, I was happily comfort eating popcorn, some shreds of cheese mixed with olives and watching Spinal Tap for the millionth time and I felt something "shift", it was slightly uncomfortable so I made an effort to be more careful with my bouts of binging bon bons and popcorn. I needed to anyway, my weight was getting away from me.

Within 24 hours there was sensitivity to hot and cold, by the end of the week I was reduced to sipping out of a straw, coffee is just not satisfying out of a straw. Week 2 began with searing pain and I decided it was time to act, I called a dentist that Mr. T liked he had a waiting list, I called a few more...waiting list, so I went back and put myself on the waiting list with Mr. Ts dentist. And now I wait for July 2nd.

I have lost 10 pounds, I have lost the ability to chew food normally When I actually put food in my mouth now it's eaten more like a lifesaver only on one side of the mouth and with the weird angle that I hold my mouth in so it doesn't touch the other side my jaw hurts constantly. I can no longer wear my nightguard - I'm a clencher, a cruncher and a late night muncher. My teeth that have broken have shifted.

I do not want to be toothless in West Virginia...nothing wrong with it but for me personally it's not an option.

So I wait for July 2nd only for the dentist to make a return appointment for what will clearly be the most expensive comfort eating binge I have ever had.

You are ready Yaye...Go Gosling Grrrrl

I've got a canteen, binoculars and a tarp...can I come to your safari
Tallulah

Yaye Takes (On) A Gander

What's up with me and the birds?

I brought my camera to work with me today because I hoped to get a few shots of the cute Canadian goslings being raised in the wetlands near my office. I see the downy little guys at least three days out of every five, and mutter curses to myself at each adorable photo op lost. So, it was with great joy that I spotted a family of six (mom, dad and four babies) grazing along the roadside as I ventured forth on my way home this afternoon.

I slow and bring my car to a gentle stop, fumble with my satchel in the passenger seat, remove lens cap, turn on power, focus...and...click!

Nice, but I only got two of the four babies, and I'd really like to get an action shot! Click!

Okay, now you can sort of see a third baby, and I like mom in motion back there. I really want to see a baby more clearly. I'll try again...click!

Damn! Framed all wrong, hasty snapping resulting in blur. Gotta see a little gosling face! Must try again...click!
Alright, shooting through the windshield is not cutting it and the little family is now on the move. Maybe I could just inch the car up a few feet and take a shot out my open side window...I'll just take my foot off the brake and....AUGH!!!

In a swift and certain motion, Father Goose takes aim at my car and hurls himself forward, wings teeter-tottering with unmistakable aggression.

CRIKEY!

I hit the gas and hastily beat my (forward) retreat, heart racing.

Think I'm ready for safari? What say you, good people?

Life...Apparently

Mr. Yaye and I went a-cherry picking in our front yard this evening in an effort to thwart our current arch cherry nemesis...Mr. Cardinal. It's not that we are unwilling to share our bounty with the colorful bird. It's just that we can only reach about six or seven fruit-producing branches, while the feathered one has a decided monopoly on the whole top half of the tree (a dozen branches, at least!). YET, we keep catching Mr. Cardinal plucking and nibbling from the lower branches that are clearly within our domain. So...we pick.

Let me tell you, the whole time we were out there, Mr. Cardinal was literally hopping mad that we were encroaching on what he has clearly deemed to be his cherries. I'm holding the ladder, Mr. Y is reaching and plucking, and Mr. C is cheep-cheep-cheeping madly, whilst flying to and fro from neighbor's drive way to the telephone lines.

Ah, nature. You know the cardinals steal our cherries and the bluejays steal our blueberries. Color coincidence? I think not!

I thought I'd also post this blurry out-take pic from my cherry bowl session -- it's like, none more red.

Don't Say Yaye Didn't Warn Ya!

I can't possibly type the name I thought of for this -- mostly because we don't need that kind of traffic. Let's just say it's alliterative and ends with "Parfait."

Tallulah's Kitty in a Pot

This cute lil feller is "Chubby Cheeks" born just a few weeks ago and weening from his mama's teat, lil Cheeks has found a new happy home: a plastic garden pot. I'm supposing that perhaps being in the pot is like being in the womb. So sorry Chubby Cheeks, you will not be able to go back to the womb ever again, get used to it. Welcome to the real world.

Yaye Takes Oprah's Name in Vain

I do not belong to the Church of Oprah.

I don't let Oprah tell me what to read. Waaaaay too much touchy-feely, inspirational, overcoming obstacles, nobility of the human spirit stuff for me. Honestly, I gain more insight from a really well written scene in a movie like "Living Out Loud" or "Harold and Maude" than I do from all the "How I Stopped Being a Pathetic Loser by Following These Ten Easy Steps" or "Facing My Pain" books I've ever read.

When Oprah talks about her experiences with diet and exercise (alongside a rotating panel of experts), I pay attention, but I also increase my sodium intake with a pinch of salt; after all, she has done it with a coterie of personal shoppers, personal chefs, personal trainers, etc. And really, there is very little mystery to the process: eat less crap, exercise more.

But when Oprah revealed what kind of support garments she sports beneath her snug designer wardrobe, effecting smooth exteriors without losing curvature, I was all hers. I knelt, I sang praises, I burned incense. I began to visit the SPANX website and read the success story of the lady inventor who created a whole new kind of bra, one made from the stuff of pantyhoses and tights, offering comfort, support, and fewer bulges and visible panty/bra lines. I began to dream of the day that I too could be like Oprah and own sleek, wireless SPANX panties and bras.

This day arrived yesterday, friends.

A flat Federal Express envelope ripped open. Colorfully illustrated pantyhose-like packaging torn asunder. Operating instructions (I'm not kidding) memorized. I withdrew the tiny bundle of stretchy black fabric and, following directions, stepped into my SPANX bra.

No clasp, no hooks, no adjustable bits on the shoulders, no underwire.

Guess what? No support!

It's just a stretchy little tube with straps. Okay, there is some cup shape-age (see above), which offers little more than a big unsightly seam that cuts horizontally across each bosom. I can achieve better effect than this by simply removing the underwire in my existing collection of old bras. Voila! I'd still have no support, but I'd also have no stupid boob seams either!

What a disappointment.

How could Oprah do this to me? I counted on an abundant woman to share her smoothing support secrets, but alas...I've been had.

I raise my fist to Harpo Heaven and cry, "OPRAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Old Jeans, Old fabric glitter glue, Old buttons and beads

Whilst Yaye was caccooning and I was freaking out about oh so many things, I diverted my attention for a few hours and made these purses. I don't use these purses as a matter of fact I made them for one of my newbie friend's two daughters.

Front of purse:

The back of the purses

The Inner LiningDetail of cutesy stuff that is apropos for two young girls. All of my glittery glue stuff had dried up over the years therefore the pics below are very simple...during this project I definitely threw away a lot of old unusable craft supplies.

Tallu thanks PeoplePC that sent a "free" trial CD to her

Tallulah loves to recycle and be good to the earth. So when People PC sent her a free trial CD, she opted to make a suncatcher /bird freaker out of the generous offer. Here you see Tallulah has used a Styrofoam vegetable tray that all her veggies from the store seem to unfortunately come in, instead of newspaper to catch any glue spillage from gluing all the very happy glass baubles.


She has also tied two fishing lines so that when the suncatcher /bird freaker twirls in the sun, it doesn't snap off so easily. Cause the last time Tallulah made CD suncatchers the single fishing lines all snapped in half because of the metal fencing. Long boring story...but Tallulah thinks she's fixed the issue.

Happy Suncatcher / Bird Freaker, hanging out with raspberries
Closeup of hanging suncatcher...you can see how the glue dried...kind of neat huh, the styrofoam veggie tray was great instead of newspaper because the glue didn't stick to the styrofoam and with a little rinsing, one can reuse the Styrofoam tray again and again.

Good pickens slim pickins for jam

Mmmmmm....this was my first pickin' of the year just a few weeks ago. High hopes for homemade preserves, but alas, after this picture was taken, I ate the whole plate! I just kept going back for one more...till there was none. Poin

Yaye's Bloomin' Wisteria!

On the subject of stuff growing at home...Our wisteria finally flowered! It took three years, but it was worth the wait. Here are a few shots (needless to say, I took tons!):

These were taken one very bright morning about two weeks ago just before I left for work.

Egg Flower chock full o' Mega 3s

At Tallulah's farm, her chickens roam free climbing up hills, scratchin' for bugs n' grubs everywhere. It is said the cage free Chickens, not the ones that are allowed to hit dirt for 10 minutes a day, are chock full of Omega 3s and low in cholesterol.

Whatever, we just get 20 of these a day! I can not make any more angel food cake....the local 4H camp just received 6 dozen of our roamin' eggs as a donation. I wonder if they'll be able to tell the difference....

Simple pleasures by Tallulah, Daisies and Yarrow Bouquet

Nothin' beats pickin' wild daisies and yarrow during a cool morning walk
for a country-fried bouquet. Picked just for you, Yaye!

1 year, 6 months, 9 days - Talu's life forever altered

School's Out for Summer, which means this fall my not so little Yayo will be a Junior in High School, which leads me to contemplate many things. First and foremost my boy has only 2 years left of school, then it's off to trade school or college or work...and what does that mean for me? It also leads me to think about the fact that in 1 year 6 months and 9 days, my son, that little boy who would play in boxes with me, and make sand castles and ride his spring horse will be 18 years old.

I wonder how these milestones will affect me. Like the day I watched Yayo walk for the first time I knew I was moving into a new phase of motherhood. And while Yayo's teen years have been a remarkably frustrating time, I am starting to feel an emptiness so deep inside, that there are times I am physically nauseated by its hold on me.

What will I do with myself when my boy inevitably moves away, do I start thinking about this now? Or do I wait 1 year, 6 months, 9 days before I panic about my future empty nest.

I guess I see how I feel when it's only 1 year, 6 months and 8 days away...tick tock tick tock