Thursday, December 31, 2009


We were at the cabin for Thanksgiving and one day pop decided he was going trout fishing on the world famous "White River" before the children and our company returned.

I kept myself busy getting ready to house an extra five people and decided to watch his and my own favorite movie ever made, Paint Your Wagon.

After an hour or so I called him to see if he was having any luck and tell him I was watching the movie. Nope, no bites whatsoever and the water was up and as clear as could be.

One of our favorite parts in the movie came on so I decided to text him:

"Mooney, there's a woman in the saloon with a baby pressed against her breast."

His response:

"HA! I love that part!"

My next text:

"lt ain't every day that we got a woman in Atwell's - pressing her breast with her baby."

His response:

"That's FUNNY!"

My next text:

"there's a woman in Atwell's pressing her breast to the saloon."

No response...

So I text him this one last time:

"There's a breast in Atwell's pressing a woman against her."

A couple of minutes pass and his response comes back:


Okay, so I'm thinking, "Is he calling me a hag? or Elizabeth who is the woman in the saloon pressing her breast against it?"

...oh boo...

He gets home a few hours later, two trout heavier and I ask him why he responded back with a "HAG"?

He looked at me like I had sprouted angel wings and stated, "I sent you back a message that said HA!"

...oh boo...

So now I need BETTER glasses!


Wednesday, December 23, 2009




Isaiah 9:6 - For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.


Monday, December 21, 2009


We get a big kick out of "Letters to Santa" every year - and this year is no exception. Here are a few, written by area first graders, we were reading and having a good laugh over this weekend:

Dear Santa:

You are a dear Santa. I
said, "Mom, here is a dear
Santa." Would you bring me
a video game?


This little guy is an Eddie Haskell in the making - "Nice dress Mrs. Cleaver."

Dear Santa:

You say hoohoo. I say
hoohoo. Everbody say


I could get along with a person like this! ...ohboohoo...

Dear Santa:

How is miss clause? I
would like to have a game
and super hero cards. I'm
going to get a table and
poot cookies on it for you.

Love, XXXX

Mr. Obsessed with everything noisy and stinky said, "I pooted some Christmas cookies just this morning!"

Dear Santa,

I will leave cookies for
you. How are the raindeer
doing? I want a black
laptop compytr for Christmas.


A new black compytr will certainly help him only if he understands the concept of "spellcheck". Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know, first grade - here in Arkansas he could be 10 or 11 years old however!

There were quite a few where the children asked only for special favor in the case of sick loved ones and those made me cry a little - "oh boo moments" is not for tears of sadness and I ask that you just keep those wee ones in your prayers.

Friday, December 18, 2009


My husband's engineer's wife and I have been sending baked goodies, homemade candy, and home canned goods for the past couple of weeks to keep all the guys in the holiday spirit.

Today, she sent "date nut logs" and he gave pop one to bring home - one of pop's operators went to unwrap it and asked, "Mmmmm, what's this?" Pop replied, "It's a stool sample."

...oh boo...

Needless to say, he frantically re-wrapped it and set it back where he found it! Wonder what he's been telling them all the treats I've been sending are?!?

Sunday, December 13, 2009


I love my father in law - if you ever had the opportunity to be around him and me, you'd think I don't like him, but I really, really like him.

You see, he is SOOOOOOOOOOOO full of himself and I CANNOT stop myself from pointing it out to him at every turn - he'll be going on and on about some great thing he believes he's done and everyone will be hanging on his every word and suddenly he'll stop and look at me like, "Well, what do YOU think?"

I will generally say something like, "Oh, do go on - it IS all about you, dad." And, my mother in law will do that Betty Rubble giggle and look at me like, "NOBODY EVER talks to him like that - you go girl!"

Anyhoo, we got him to take up golf a number of years ago and at first he'd take only one driver and a ball to the course and just hit it all over the place and probably quit once he lost THE only ball. Mostly he just liked to see how far he could hit it and then just brag about it until the next farthest hit.

He recently got a little more serious and actually goes out now at pre-arranged tee times with other more serious golfers for actual rounds of golf.

A few weeks ago, a professional golfer came to the course and just wanted to get in a practice round and my f-i-l and his partner were the only team he could slide in on so they good-naturedly accepted them into their time slot.

Things were going quite well until f-i-l's rooster hormones kicked in and he actually started heckling every bad shot the pro made - his partner trying to shush him, but once he gets going it is nigh on impossible to get him back on track again.

The pro was becoming visibly upset at my f-i-l's lack of golf etiquette and as a result badly hooked one of his drives off into neverland - my f-i-l abruptly stated, "Maybe you ought to put some cowbells on your balls before the next drive!"

...oh boo...

Tuesday, December 08, 2009


Firefighters rescue boy whose tongue was stuck to a metal pole.

Strange, you say?:

When nte was approximately eight years old, it seemed she'd always be hollering for me when I went to the restroom or any other room for that matter. I recall asking on a number of occasions, perhaps even begging her to PUHLEEZE approach me and talk to me rather than call across a room or through walls because I WILL ignore you.

One day while showering I could hear her from two rooms away calling for me, garbled though it was and I shouted back, "I TOLD YOU TO PLEASE COME AND TALK DIRECTLY TO ME - DON'T HOLLER!" My shower resumed and she kept getting louder and I thought to myself, Sophia Loren, perhaps someone has broken in and they've accosted her and she needs me!

So as not to arouse suspicion of the intruder, I leave the shower running, step from the tub with my head all soapy, grab a towel and the toilet brush and edge my way out of the bathroom - through the bedroom I slinked along the wall, dripping wet with shampoo running into my eyes - around the corner into the front room - I edge up beside the refrigerator door where it is noticeable the door is OPEN and she is whimpering now - I step around the door fully prepared to use the toilet brush in whatever manner to bring great harm to the person hurting my baby!

There she is, standing there with her little hand stuck to the wall of the freezer and I'm like WTF? (In case y'all're wondering what the "F" is in my "WTF's" - it's FLUFF! Of course, back then it could have been any number of words...oh boo...) I adamantly ask, "WHAT are you doing with your hand stuck to the freezer (as I'm now naked with the toilet brush on the floor)? I hover over the sink trying to get a pan of hot water to get her hand unstuck while the shampoo by this time has removed the first membrane on my eyeballs - and she responds, "I wet my hand and stuck it to the freezer just to see what it would do."

...oh boo...

Saturday, December 05, 2009


This was playing on the satellite holiday music station when pop came in yesterday. Never one to miss a beat, he stated, "He was alive when he sang this."

...oh boo...

Tuesday, December 01, 2009


I set my BB to go off at a particular time at night and to go on at a particular time in the morning. The children ALWAYS send me a message stating, "MADE IT! ILU!" when they get to their destinations each weekday.

We were at the cabin for Thanksgiving and had company the weekend after - everyone was soundly asleep with the exception of two hunters off in the woods (bagged an eight-point buck I might add) when all of a sudden my phone came on, started plinging and vibrating all over by the side of the bed (built up on a wooden platform with storage beneath) - I was startled, sat bolt upright, grabbed the phone and there were two messages from nancson who was, BTW, sound asleep in the upstairs bedroom mere feet from me...

The two messages read, "Mom, could you please go out back and turn the light off in the bathhouse?"

...oh boo...

I'm not a very patient person lately - menopause and all - and have even asked God to please give me a mustache in place of the hotflashes, night sweats and moodiness. It would be the first time in the history of my family ANYBODY grew one...

...oh boo...

So I holler out, "Go out back and turn the light out YOURSELF!" Suddenly all seven people left in the cabin were awake...