How much lower can it go?

When I moved to Texas 8 years, 5 months and 23 days ago gas prices sat at $1.34/gallon. I didn't think much of it, as I was just driving around Jerry's Miata and had no real idea what the conversion and what not was. However, now that I am more aware of it, I actually find myself nervous as the gas prices keep dropping. I have no idea why, it's not logical. But when I pulled up to the pump and paid $1.52/gallon - less than 20 cents more than I paid when I first moved here ... it made me jittery. Something has to bust. Something has to change in a bad way, with the economy in the crapper, housing prices dropping like no ones business...

That'll Teach It

Friday evening I was hauling garbage out to the garage and the cat followed me in there. After a few minutes of trying to wiggle it out of an impossibly small spot, I left it in there, figuring it'd possibly learn a lesson if I left it in there over night.
The next morning I called for it with no response. "Eh," I thought, "it'll cry at the door or something if it wants back in. Maybe it's busy doing something useful for once, like catching mice." (For the record, we don't have mice, I was just being obnoxious.)
Last night, belatedly, I noticed the cat still wasn't inside the house. Haha. Opps. It was a mistake, I swear! I went out into the garage, called out to it again with no response. I noticed the ladder to the attic was down, headed over there and peeked up. The cat is sitting on the edge opening and closing it's mouth like it's meowing ... but I think he'd meowed himself out, because he was making no noise at all. So I climbed up the ladder and attempted to haul the cat back down with me cradled in my arm. It was having NO part in that. Scratching, back arching, furiously reaching towards the wooden floors of the attic. I'm not about to get tetanus for this cat, so I put it back down. It huddled up, meowing silently at me, giving me pathetic looks. I cast my eyes about and found it's kennel, struggled with the cat again and trudged it back down the ladder.
It's shown it's gratitude by sitting this close to me ever since. That is not a close up, infact I had to move my head back a little to make the focus on the phone a little less fuzzy. The experience must have scared it a bit, because it's been shedding like no ones business. Which I just LOVE ... all that cat fur drifting over my face and up my nose. Bleach!
Punk cat.

Yeah, I Saw IT too.

At first I didn't want to fess up, keep it all on the down low till I had time to think it over. I'm ready now, though.
I was one of the crazies who went to "Twilight" at the "premier showing" at a local theater at 12:09 A.M. Friday morning. Morning. Not afternoon. Morning. More night. Mid night to be exact-ish.
Me, a bunch of teenage girls, gay boys and random other freakish type looking people. It was almost surreal.
The movie itself was okay. I had set my expectations REALLY low so if the movie fell flat I wouldn't be annoyed with any of the players involved. I was disappointed in some of the aspects they introduced and left out. I know movies are never going to live up to a book though, so it wasn't too much of a downer.
It won't keep me from seeing the second one. Or the third. Or the fourth. Stephenie Meyers has me hook line and sinker. Anyone but me notice her cameo as "Sophie" in the diner?

Two Things

Maybe three.
First story: After Ms. R's tennis lessons every week I let the kids run across the street (after looking both ways of course) to the park to play for an hour or so. There is generally a few other kids, moms, grandmothers, aunts, dads, what have you. Regular run of the mill pay no attention to them type people. Last week there was this man, probably in his late 40's, sitting all alone on one of the benches that circle the play ground. I noticed he wasn't visibly interacting with any of the kids at the park, flying a kite, or taking advantage of any of the bbq's; which kind of made me wary of him. It just seemed odd to me that a man in his 40's would just sit at a play ground with no real purpose. About 20 minutes later this little dog seemed to come hurtling over an adjacent neighborhood fence in hot pursuit of a squirrel. I watched the antics for a while then went back to watching the kids with an eye on the strange man who still didn't seem to be paying attention to anything in general. After the dog tired of chasing squirrels it came trotting over to the bench I was sitting on and promptly jumped into my lap. I sat there petting it for another 10 minutes, waiting for the owner to notice it was missing, looked at the tags on it which were of no help, looked around the park hoping someone was looking for it, called the kids over and told them to get ready to go on a walk. As I was preparing to walk over to the neighborhood that backs up to the park, with dog in arm, the man calls out, "Where are you going with my dog?"
Startled, I respond, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was yours. I thought he'd jumped over one of the fences in pursuit of the squirrel. I was about to walk over to the neighborhood and see if anyone was missing him."
The man gave me a doubtful look and replied, "You thought he jumped over the fence? He cannot jump that high."
Like I should know that? Did he think I was ... what? Stealing his dog, knowing the owner was sitting right across the park from me? With my two kids in tow no less. Geez-la-frickin-wheez.
Second Thing: We were in dire need of a new outside garbage can. Dire. As in the walls of the can were the only things keeping the garbage contained because the bottom was essentially non-existant. I had to drag it across the lawn so that I didn't bust open a bag on the way to the curb. So today I headed over to Lowe's to pick up a new one, one with WHEELS this time. That's right, I'm going uptown. As usual, Mr. B accompanied me and as usual he was all over the place. Within seeing distance ... but still touching everything, into everything, in many people's path. So, after I had chosen the perfect garbage can for our home (if there is such a thing) I invited him to climb in, popped the lid on top and wheeled him around the store as I went to look at other things I have been meaning to invest in to improve my household organization. You should have seen the looks I got when he'd pop the lid off every once in a while. You'd think I was abusing the punk, not giving him what he considered a fantastically fun ride.
I'm starting to get a complex. Do I look like a bad person?
The third is this: Oh my. How pretty. I bought those divider things today, also at Lowe's. I've wanted them since we moved in more than seven years ago but I've always balked at paying $10 bucks for something I really didn't NEED. Today, however, I said - it's practically Christmas. Merry Christmas, Me!
Then I went out and spent $250 on kids winter clothes. Way to save money, Krista.

No, Yay Me!

Thank you, Nice One for this award YOU are fabulous. Your taste in men is impeccable, I look forward to Tuesdays because of you. Here are the rules that come with this particular award:
Rules:

1. You have to pass it on to 5 other fabulous blogs in a post.

2. You have to list 5 of your fabulous addictions in the post.

3. You must copy and paste the rules and the instructions below in the post.

Instructions:On your post of receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them. When you post your five winners, make sure you link them as well. To add the award to your post, simply right-click, save image, then "add image" it in your post as a picture so your winners can save it as well. To add it to your sidebar, add the "picture" gidget.Also, don't forget to let your winners know they won an award from you by emailing them or leaving a comment on their blog.

Five Favorite Addictions:
1. Reading blogs. Seriously, it's ridiculous. However, I have been introduced to some seriously kick butt chicks through my blog surfing.
2. Organizing books by author or dewy decimal. No word of a lie. I volunteer at both of the libraries at my kids schools just to get my fix. It may just be a sickness.
3. Real Estate. I am constantly searching www.realtor.com. Land, properties, locations - they always change. I like seeing what the markets are like in various areas at any given time.
4. Expensive cars. I'm not sure if this can be technically be termed an addiction considering I don't have one ... but Heaven help me if you get me around one of my favorites. It's an orgasmic experience. (I'm sorry mom)
5. E! channel at night. I'm an insomniac and refuse to do anything productive or educational after 10pm.

(I'm only picking people that blog often enough to feed my addiction ...)

Sassy Stephanie
My Dogumentary
Miss Lump
Pastor Ryan
Pioneer Woman

Miss Lump was also kind enough to give me this award This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships!
These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

Proximity to me is the one I stumble over when trying to pass this award on. No one I know personally (that reads my blog) live within several hundred, if not thousands of miles from me. Actually, the closest - Lumpy, was mentioned before.

Thank you, girlies, you are much too sweet.

$1.73/gallon

That is all.

I Hate You, Milk

Dawn, Michael and I used to (use to? I have never been able to figure that one out and Lord knows how I love to be grammatically correct) spend many weekends, holidays and summers out at my Uncle Howards' ranch in the Porcupine Hills of S.W. Alberta, Canada. This picture, by the way, was in no way "dulled" to appear this drab. This area of Alberta never gets green. Ever. We'd help herd cattle, collect eggs, tumble around in the hay loft, muck out the stalls, weed the acres of garden, sleep out in a 100 year old army tent that smelt like kerosene, dare each other to ride random wild horses kept on the property, go on long rides to no where, milk cows.
I am honestly not sure if I have always hated milk but I do know when I think of milk and it's sticky sweet whiteness I get slightly sick to my stomach when I add thoughts of The Ranch into the mix.
"That's Odd" you may think.
Unless you knew the next bit of information. And The Aunt.
The Ranch, in general was a fun, hard working, early rising place to visit. You knew going out there wasn't going to be a "vacation", but our cousins Nikki and Blair (Bear) lived out there and THEY in and of themselves, were a good reason to visit. Them and the horses. Oh, the horses.
I digress. Milk. Sticky. Smelly. Hate.
One of my designated tasks was straining, seperating and storing the milk after the morning milking. Not a big deal. If the child doing the chore isn't painfully klutzy.
One morning as I was carefully manuvering the glass gallon jug from the sink area all the way over to the fridge I lost my grip on the jug and it went crashing to the floor. Shattering the jug, splattering the milk to all corners of the excessively huge country kitchen and absolutely soaking me. I stood there, absolutely terrified (of said aunt), mortified and drenched in sticky, sweet, stinky milkly liquid. I remember standing there my eyes darting (terrified) to The Aunt, waiting to either get walloped or hollared at. She started laughing. And laughing. And laughing. To which I responded to by bawling. She, being the warm hearted (HAHAHAHA) woman she was, responded "smartly", "No use crying over spilled milk!" She thought she was hilarious. She then proceeded to hand me the mop, gave me orders to have it all cleaned up by lunch and walked out of the house. Being all of nine, I wasn't much of an independant thinker when given orders by an adult. For that reason it didn't occur to me to go clean myself up before I started in on the mess. I just started cleaning. And Cleaning. And cleaning. By the time I was done, the milk that had drenched me was caked dry. Stiff. Stinky. Itchy. Nearly Paining me to move.
To this day, I cannot handle the smell of milk. It's all I can do to stay composed and not gag when I smell it.
I hate you, Milk.
But I think I hate you more, Janet.

Little Joke. Big Laugh.

A 3-year-old boy examined his testicles while taking a bath.
'Mum', he asked, 'Are these my brains?'
'Not yet,' she replied.

My New Favorite

Oatmeal Spice Cookies
I've had the toughest time finding a oatmeal recipe I enjoy. They are too mushy, too crispy, not flavorful enough ... the reasons have ran the gambit.
This recipe however, take the punch. So much so that I will have to send most of them to school with the kids in the morning to share with their classes so I don't eat the whole batch.

• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup stick margarine, softened
• 3 tablespoons light-colored corn syrup
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 large egg whites
• 1 large egg
• 3 cups quick-cooking oats
• 1 1/3 cups raisins

Preheat oven to 350°.

Combine first 6 ingredients in a small bowl, and set aside. Combine brown sugar and next 6 ingredients (brown sugar through egg) in a large bowl, and beat mixture at medium speed of a mixer until well-blended. Stir in oats and raisins, and let stand 5 minutes. Stir in flour mixture.

Drop dough by level tablespoonfuls 2 inches apart onto baking sheets coated with cooking spray. Bake at 350° for 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove cookies from pans, and cool on wire racks.

Note: Store cookies in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

As a side note: I "rehydrate" my raisins. I put them in a pot with a good inch of water over them. Then I let them lightly boil for a good half hour, replacing water as it needs it. This process makes the raisins so moist and delicious. I highly recommend it!

My pictures of food never turn out well, so ... you'll have to go without.

I'm Helping Mom

To be clear ... the oven was not on. And I had no part in picking out what he wore as he "made pizza". Yes, those are winter mittens he's wearing ... They have to be used sometime, right?

Well Hello, Lover

Not you. YOU. Yes, you know who you are. Taunting me with your soft firmness, enchanting me with your sweetness, treating me right just when I need you.
Apple Crumble, I love you. And here's the recipe that explains why:
(Meant to serve Four. But never makes it past two in my house)
Innards:
2 c tart apples, peeled, cored and sliced thin
1 T water
1 t lemon
Sprinkling of cinnamon
2 t butter
Topping:
chocolate chips
1/4 c peanut butter (possibly a little less)
1/4 c rolled oats
1/4 c brown sugar
2 T flour
1/4 t cinnamon

Stir all the top ingredients except the butter. Place it in a 2 Q baking dish. Or a bread pan - that's what I prefer. Dot the top with butter.
Mix together all the top ingredients except chocolate chips. A pastry blender would work best, but I don't own one ... so I just use two forks and work it like the devil till it's crumbly.
Spread it over the top of the apples then sprinkle the chocolate chips on top of that.
Place it in preheated (350) oven for about 25-50 minutes till apples are tender.

I usually cut the topping almost in half to make it less sweet. I love baked apples ... but also love the crunchy topping. So it's a win win. However, for people like my brother who LOVE apple pie, peanut butter and chocolate ... I think I would leave it full flavor.

Twilight

I went to a Twilight Party a few weeks ago or maybe a month ... or longer. Time is so relative. Anyway. What I've been thinking on is there have to be people in this area that like it enough to want to go to the movie. Whatdaya say we go together? I am SO up for it! Shoot me a comment if you live in the DFW area, want to get together before, grab something to eat then head to the movie.

An Idea or Two

I've known basic sign language since I was a kid. My mom and sister both took an evening class at the local college and were very proficient in it. They looked beautiful as their hands went flying and I wanted to be just like them. Needless to say, I didn't master it nearly as well as they did. Infact, to this day, I keep my signs to a minimum.
However, a few years ago when Ms. R started PPCD and they introduced ASL to her as another way to communicate, I put my head back into it and introduced myself to a few more basic signs to keep up with her.
She's whip smart at figuring out words when we're reading, but has a hard time with figuring out how to spell the same words she's just read. One of the ways I have found to bring it home to her is have her sign out the letters as she's saying them.Another is this site. She thinks it's fun to be using my computer as a homework tool and interacting with the words in ways I had not thought of previously.
I also discovered the week that we spent driving back and forth to east Texas twenty times (okay, okay! Twice, but it FELT like twenty) that my kids love audio books. It doesn't even seem to matter what the book is about, they just like to hear the sound of the narrators voices. So lately we've heard more chapter books than I've read, which is a great thing. B-Man even complains when I turn on the radio and not a book ... which has kind of disconnected me from the "real world" but who needs the real world when you have books? Have I mentioned lately how much I love the North Richland Hills Public Library? I do. I really I really do.

God Blessed Texas

Amen.
For those of you in the area ... this gas station is located in HWY 26 in NRH.

I Sure Am Glad

Not everyone writes in their blog as obsessively as I do. I have like 30 blogs on my blog roll that I'd have to keep up with if every one wrote as stinking often as I do.
It's a disease I tell you.
Blogitis, a "new disease" suffered by millions of blog-addicted internet users.
Amen brother, amen.

You Think You're So Smart

I am starting to think I'm well on my way to earning my "Most Gullible" award.
I get alerts from American Airlines sporadically alerting me to weekend deals for tickets they haven't been able to sell. A few times I've taken advantage of the deals, not because I had any particular want to go to the place on sale ... but the deal was too good for me to pass up. I can always find something fun to do in a new city for a few days.
Last week I was sent an email stating that they were having a seat sale on tickets up to Calgary, Alberta for $158. My eyes all but bulged out of their sockets. $158?!?! Go visit my family for a weekend for $158? No frickin' way! I quickly clicked through the process till the last page.
Oh how you burnt me AA. Oh how you burnt me.
Not till the summary page do you find out that it was $158 each way.
Darn you and your wily ways.

Soles for Souls

Ryan, one of my favorite blogsters, issued a challenge for his readers to donate to this cause. Being a dedicated shoe whore (I kid you not), I took this challenge to heart. How many pairs of shoes to I own? How much did I pay for the least expensive pair? Can I afford to donate that much to a worthy cause, to help at least 2 people get a little bit of comfort for their over worked peds?
I am pretty sure I'd make a great rich person, I love philanthropy. I'd be the best darn philanthropist out there. Other than Big Bill, Bono, Buffett, Berkshire ... I'd TOTALLY be it, man. Wait, after considering their names I now wonder if I have to have a B name. That would completely take me out of the running. Frickin' frackin.
Any way, check it out 50,000 shoes in 50 days.

She's a Tooth Removing Power House

Friday night as we were enjoying our "spend the evening in mom's bed" night Ms. R mentioned that another one of her top teeth was loose. I checked the tooth and it barely budged. She asked if she could go get a napkin to help her in the wiggling process, to be a good sport, I agreed. Yeah, I'm cool like that.
Fifteen minutes later I look over and she's still cranking away on that tooth. I shake my head and go back to explaining every clip that played during AFV to B-Man.
Five minutes after that, there is blood drooling everywhere. The napkin, her under shirt, the pillow case.
She proudly hold up the tooth, like a hard won prize then turns to me with a still bloody VERY gaping smile. Lovely.
Tooth count - 8 missing, only 2 returning thus far. It's starting to make me wonder how she's going to eat if they don't start growing back in.

Fun Run

Today was the 2nd annual Coyote Fun Run at Ms. R's school. It's much like the bike-a-thon we had every year at R.I. Baker when I was in Jr. High ... Except the kids are prohibited from going door to door to collect monies (dude, we live in a big city not a town of 2,500) and they ran a course over and over and over and ... instead of from way out in the country into the school. Sooo ... what's the same is all the money collected goes directly to the school and the kids do exercise to earn it. Practically the same thing.

You're. Kidding. Me.

Just click.
Seriously, I love the series, but when have you gone just a bit too far?
Oh yeah ... when you're having a Volturi Masque Ball.
Or when you have a band called "The Bella Cullen Project".
Or ... nevermind.
I don't want to bash those who are going. But seriously, how do people become that obsessed with something?

Caramel Pecan Pie

Every Thanksgiving Jerry's mom writes out a loooong list of things to be consumed on turkey day. After carefully inspecting the list a dozen or so times, she carefully doles out food bringing/making responsibilities. After she "caught me" making mashed potatoes from potato flakes one year (WHAT?!?! I LOVE THEM! I find them rich, creamy and deliciously right in so many ways) many years ago, I have been delegated to the "Costco" items list (veggie platter and pumpkin pie). I've tried to be a radical some years, when I'm feeling really rebellious, to bring an extra pie that I make from scratch. This however means I come home with the extra pie I have made. No seriously, I do. The extra pie that wasn't on "the list" doesn't even get touched. That's a lie. There was the one year Wayne snuck a piece under the radar ... but only once and only one piece. Which means I bring home an entire pie. Just for me. Not good. Not good at all. Especially when it's this pie. Lord, have mercy ... why do you hate my metabolism? Why can't I be skinny and laugh in the face of calories? Or if you couldn't have blessed me with that trait; at least with self control. Just a little. So this year, I will be smart and only bring the items on the designated list.
You however, should try it out. Unwrapping all those caramels is tedious and time consuming but oh so worth it. If you have kids, put them to work doing it. They usually stop eating them after 5 or 6 and you still have enough left in a package for the pie.

Exit Pollster

Back before the preliminary voting took place a lady at church asked me if I would be interested in being an Exit Pollster. Being a Canadian and not exactly "hip" on what "goes down" in the United States so far as voting goes I asked her for an explanation of what the job would entail.
Essentially an exit pollster is someone who stations themselves outside places people are voting at (the company tells you where to go, you don't just go out and pick one), catches random people as they pass and ask them if they would mind filling out a short confidental survey which is then forwarded onto a certain company at various intervals through out the day. That company in turn sells that information to all the news groups in the world - besides Comedy Central, as a 17 year old pointed out to me yesterday. Comedy Central apparently gets their information from another, more reliable source: Steve Colbert's mind. Riiiight.
I approached the opportunity a little bit apprehensively. I didn't know how the election officials would receive me, how interested people would be in participating, if I would have to sit outside ... All sorts of worries assailed me. However, there was absolutely no problem, infact, it was an enjoyable experience. Everything from the election officials, to the voters, to the location. My mom was even here during that time, so she was able to watch my kids for me and I didn't have to stress about that.
I was called up again by Edison/Mitofsky early in September wondering if I would be interested in working election day. I once again agreed, though for some reason, I was nervous. New situations and wondering how people will receive me always kind of freaks me out. Even if I cannot control that.
The procedure was exactly the same this time around as last except I was at a different location. A very upper class location. You have to know I was eyeing up 7/8th of the vehicles that sat in that church parking lot. Infact, one of them caused me a moment of sassiness. I will willingly admit the sassiness was brought on by my love of the car not the tidy looking gentleman that was driving the dream.
So he pulls up in my love, my dream, my yearning the Mercedes CLS 63 AMG V(frickin)8. *slurps ... pulls tongue back into mouth* as he emerges from car. However my eye keeps on drifting over to it even as he approaches the building.
"Nice afternoon" the kindly man comments.
"Nice car" the drooling girl replies.
Laughter
"Yes, it is a nice piece of workmanship"
"Haven't driven any better" *huge grin*
*he takes his turn eyeing up the salivating girl, possibly hesitating ... wondering if his piece of perfection will be there when he finishes voting*
Smiles nervously.
Hot foots it in.
Alright, he didn't really eye ball me, even though I probably was salivating. Noticeably.
Anyway, it was a beautiful day, I was able to set up right out side the set of doors all the voters were exiting out of, the voters and election officials were all very pleasant and accommodating. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better experience. This time I even remembered to take my allergy medication before I left in the morning. So you'll be pleased to know I didn't rush home and puke all over the place like I did last time, mom. Yep, smart thinking on my part.
However, because of my nervousness, I only get about an hour of sleep ... so pretty much I walked in the house, grabbed a bowl of cereal and crashed hard core before 8pm last night.
This morning I woke up to my house completely and totally trashed. Toys, bedding, food, crayons ... EVERY WHERE *sigh* It was a nice day out but I am not sure the price is worth what I got paid.

...Proud?

Is that what I am? Proud that she's ... creative? Yep ... she's using my slipper as as "sleeping mask"

Is It Possible

to keep your cat box TOO clean? I cannot handle walking by the laundry room and catching a whiff of messy box, so it generally gets cleaned out twice a day. However, that means our cat seems to think that it's a play/lounging area. Which in turn means that I always have pebbles of cat litter all over the laundry room floor because of the little muskrats frolicking. Dirty mutt.

Snoopy

Is what I am. I cannot help it. When I am sitting in the hallway at night repeatedly telling B-Man to "Get back into bed", "Lay and and shut your eyes!", "No, you may not have some juice, but you can go to sleep!" I find myself scrolling through other peoples blogs. When I am done with that, I start wandering through the blogs of others they have listed and so on and so forth. I almost always find someone interesting to read about. Maybe that's because I am easy to appease. Maybe I'm too bored for my own good. I like to consider myself a lover of people's lives.
Tonight I clicked upon a blog of a friend who wrote this:
"As Canadians, we have very little interest in the personal lives of our leaders. I remember a political culture class I took in University (in Canada). Our professor started the first class by asking us who the president of the United States was. We answered. Then he asked what the president's wife's name was; if he had any children and their names; where he was from; what he named his dog; and where he went to University. We, as a class, were able to answer all of these questions correctly. Then the Professor asked us who the Prime Minister of Canada was. We answered. Then he proceeded to ask us the same questions about our Prime Minister as he asked about the US president. After the question about the his wife's name, we were stumped. We had no idea where he was from, if he had children or even if he had a dog. I think it is because Canadians are fairly private people and we respect the privacy of others. It is rare that a politician's personal life makes it on the evening news. But here in the United States, the personal life seems to be just as important as the candidate's stand on the issues." The Samples Sampler.
How WAY too true is her statement? I indeed know all those answers about the current president as well as the two candidates. You know what else I know about them all? Their favorite sport, food, drink, bow many siblings each has, religious affiliations, ancestry ...
We, as a people know WAY too much.

What Does She Want?

Every day Ms. R's teacher posts an "as to" equation on the board. For instance:
white:black::night:__________
up:down::right:________
front:behind::slow:___________
Most of them, I totally get.
However, the on Friday has me TOTALLY puzzled.
1:3::2:_______
is the answer 6 or 5 or ... something else?
These kids are in the third month of kindergarten, they don't know multiplying and division for a couple more months. So ... what is the answer. I'm totally befuddled.

VOTE! (a small collection of videos)

I can't - but you should!

Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch

Pictures from B-Man's class field trip ...

Awards

Ms. R was given ribbons for 100% attendance and being on the A/B roll (since when do they not call it honorable mention?) this reporting period. She thought she was all that and a bag of chips.
The only part that bothers me about the awards for 100% attendance is that it feels somewhat like you are punishing kids for getting sick. Or parents for keeping their kids home when they are puking their guts out. So, you want me to send them to school till 10am so you can get your money from the district? Fine, I'll send my kids to school if it's THAT important to you ...
(okay okay okay, so I really wouldn't. but it still annoys me)
Oh, sorry about the poor picture quality. I was forced to use my "old" 35 and they just don't turn out as well as they should ...