tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33460322024-03-20T05:01:30.807-05:00Dreams of the Everyday HausfrauI have really strange dreams. This blog will mostly be about them, plus a slice of my every day life from time to time. In the interest of full disclosure, I truly am not right in the head. After all, I can't use glue without adult supervision. No wonder I'm single.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-87490454853039777572009-07-30T10:36:00.022-05:002009-08-06T13:50:18.177-05:00Wednesday's DinnerYou're probably wondering why I am documenting weekly dinners with my friend Nancy's husband Ron, and her dog Jane. Here's why: a) as previously mentioned, I'm not right in the head, and b) more importantly, Nancy is MEAN (grin) and if she comes home to a dead husband and a dead dog because they were too depressed to eat, I'm in big trouble! :-)<br /><br /><p></p><br /><p>I made Hamburger Helper, the Cheeseburger Macaroni one:</p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277943128108466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65ZhPpmgQ0etk1e57nl7e8zsgzlFG_qMJfTIrSkzw6M1KB16MUcdGSRXw96VjMqjtIM2va0rxo4Ao2Kb3BOSP6gp3IdGQH2UuDnIoClPlOiI6LIzV4w2y4qIFFtHrdK03PgJxPQ/s320/ham+helper.JPG" border="0" />And I steamed some green beans. Yummy!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277883158294738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZy9S-VdwEcEd-3lFNmIHV0oDbsjcfDyb6HtK-zBsfuWFmE872Qoox6ls9ykmIqjy7Eu_Xp5Mc2UsjcTh8xP6gGBHqZazDsyJl4DkVgt7u2cvWlaCyQX_g8G8YnC3Pwt_Hb5nFw/s320/green+beans.JPG" border="0" /> I also made Jane's dinner. Yes, it has no cheese, but unlike certain people in Nancy's household, I don't mollycoddle Jane.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278078667963826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eUKvCd_mQAMkB9aVJGDtd8z2NRkSCFtxQC-yqwVSGRLX8z4Qi68bl9wXagLD7IwmzQmJvh4be8ar2hsaT3q2B4VkV6numYllZhKEt57TGXnjTQ7vDNA67_65nmvtNBrrTFvxyg/s320/j+dinner.JPG" border="0" /> She ate it up! In fact she inhaled her food so fast, I'm thinking of changing her name to Hoover.<br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjiNv7xaiUsksor6QE4gQkHnWz5SymNYojNemm12n4d2XU_9iRfO-VQ3gkqG0UcoEoLZcgQx9GF9lCXrozbkVsBT7DxIjMU12p2cYf0Fy0oa-xIOziWQsPy1ubciyZzplovyfRA/s1600-h/jane+eating.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278323942389218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjiNv7xaiUsksor6QE4gQkHnWz5SymNYojNemm12n4d2XU_9iRfO-VQ3gkqG0UcoEoLZcgQx9GF9lCXrozbkVsBT7DxIjMU12p2cYf0Fy0oa-xIOziWQsPy1ubciyZzplovyfRA/s320/jane+eating.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Man, Old Geezer, you can cook!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdGoaoaGr0HBBUj7iheunNt2G_dpxFTLnvnKGCC0__UXGC8PaM-kaMfxS84O-yXCQ31MCJ0CoP5eISA-tKWnJR2fsw2GXB5_frmTc5UGbmXE2GsgMdCrXthSUf7PB5Jhudn3zhQ/s1600-h/jane+eating+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278255126480578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdGoaoaGr0HBBUj7iheunNt2G_dpxFTLnvnKGCC0__UXGC8PaM-kaMfxS84O-yXCQ31MCJ0CoP5eISA-tKWnJR2fsw2GXB5_frmTc5UGbmXE2GsgMdCrXthSUf7PB5Jhudn3zhQ/s320/jane+eating+2.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is fabulous! I don't need any cheese!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ScwoT2AUpTsFiTzA9HzH5EU8btWMmI6sDoujYt3zGrsHga2NaUNcQ-3rHF8lo3pJY95q5jSTfCkUgfvU41epf9V5ECI7ANwSFRNTqlyTJAJ4YB8lSAilu5kyUTdSxmChYfjWxQ/s1600-h/jane+eating+1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278179512107170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ScwoT2AUpTsFiTzA9HzH5EU8btWMmI6sDoujYt3zGrsHga2NaUNcQ-3rHF8lo3pJY95q5jSTfCkUgfvU41epf9V5ECI7ANwSFRNTqlyTJAJ4YB8lSAilu5kyUTdSxmChYfjWxQ/s320/jane+eating+1.JPG" border="0" /></a> Boy can you cook!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278394773692482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0gobnfxIdeMNnklGyHVTFiuBOGUFjeRnJhYY4xOZZwTqkrpz_A6HlwRDhXIOUkEEf8GbXudSzZlQm9NdSj58oSFn5JT2hXXM-wtfKCIDKkmAc1MjI3WJDfvE8jhcsMfFEYEFDTg/s320/licking+the+bowl+clean.JPG" border="0" />I just can't get enough of your cooking, Old Geezer!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277828871274130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcVVGnXa42K5RKJ3L86K4_mPFZPNkBLBt9q0yw6bmoByofzW7gWF-pyFqAta6sBkr139c4OYIqEQiLd6zWWp9BYzt3rBkDyw7nRAcSrBy85ehdCJpzL_R0jlcv9rGJLl1ouDqZg/s320/cleaning+the+bowl.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>Neither could Ron, apparently:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278530505871442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsXNSGOaAAr11kpAIM_c9oiIVOlyo5IuPQuhOSz6T93Jb4_zMJYUmTU0aDPyAzNswlLcPSqIUtA7rRatymQWDqADDR_Ip7OIaF2itY90McG4SOKt1teWtnbmZLU1AK3Enr5qqxg/s320/ron.JPG" border="0" /><br />Ron enjoyed dinner too.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364278464298224258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJSjGklbDLL4qkUh_N2XdIc-R4rI9gJkwNldFGl2FweMdtYkh0JEjQ7t0RdOkWUMtBWP8dM4DyNmItAzprLU_aKurNxzRzWI7pGGetHXLv-emN-S2U0TOvmd07mkqJbFlZFNwi1g/s320/ron+eating.JPG" border="0" />He was thisclose to licking his plate clean, but his manners got the best of him.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL_HhfeA6ZX8kmdAoCY1ZSMcc-2uxrv_6NjZfUOq0VfKJ0SN7XwzQt-oYK5RgoOKyAMsySMn6D5Jx3ZGIyzijrK9ss-Y_DRxX_WWJp4Aic1a78wCtsan8cQNvKvbgDGL4Hc0muw/s1600-h/clean+plate.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277759855842658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL_HhfeA6ZX8kmdAoCY1ZSMcc-2uxrv_6NjZfUOq0VfKJ0SN7XwzQt-oYK5RgoOKyAMsySMn6D5Jx3ZGIyzijrK9ss-Y_DRxX_WWJp4Aic1a78wCtsan8cQNvKvbgDGL4Hc0muw/s320/clean+plate.JPG" border="0" /></a> Come home soon, Nancy! We miss you! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-35937280685735308082009-07-29T21:49:00.015-05:002009-08-06T13:51:32.182-05:00Tuesday TakeoutOkay it's Tuesday. The sky is BLACK. The bottom is about to fall out of the sky. I hurried to Nancy's house to let Jane in because Ron gets home later than I do, and more importantly, Jane is TERRIFIED of bad weather. I got there just in time to let her in the house, and literally as soon as I shut the door, it starting raining cats and dogs (sorry, pun intended). So, as we waited for Ron to get home, I turned on the TV to distract Jane from the bad weather. I saw a commercial, which led directly to dinner...<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364082252494613442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 95px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvUapEvzLuzyzvbf56SJuTHugrhJgpQgWl0JfPoYauy-givbI8Vj1CG_eO9lYtp6DFEqesYZ7we26MQfGEY7otZ0X5xBEq2gkrMI9iHsrJNDNxFO2Czs6mX0KY89o35BCWrLJVw/s320/dinner.JPG" border="0" /> Ron made Jane's dinner tonight, and I guess she was hungry, because she was all over it!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274015347983426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC0dB1OH9qGHm1V8HpE-3jSdYJzRqV0feOfzSM3ZF1s0I8_e3XYnWU-6RmsR1FOLROL5f_6PynnSw0lBtS_DK4EVt1NJj1yTQF7FrmkNs8IX5kH2Lp6XRPVcmIcUiy7Cv4iAydw/s320/jane+eats.JPG" border="0" /><br />Jane sucked it down in record time!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364273941692798546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPil1D_okV_mmtusCeCCQZFih1B-SqUw9opKF_D_OyFS9Fg80DLKLjFT6PWTtG62gAgpvoCiIIAiQzIqnvPWOxr2V8y-TLthHvkpM9R5Pcrlvhf8aYVJuDPSH6qJG6Hogrugxmrg/s320/jane+eats+closeup.JPG" border="0" /><br />I'm going to change her name to Oreck.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364273812796757970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Q3Puh91OMLsUrN5Ybz0tkFNlwmZpb7aMOEQ3Ht72lIpFhtWRGYYHLVb1OE-3Pw0mvnd4guGv_SvkKf9mpb0inP17bYmFDV5I8XrIyq6eubPYPBCVOuAoIgq_K0ozQuOL07j2fA/s320/clean+bowl.JPG" border="0" /> <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div></div><br /><div>After we fed Jane, Ron and I sat down to eat. Ron enjoyed his pizza.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274418334265906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1-xWKV0UZ5wESjlYcjzgZQm-Qij1jOecMWP9WO2XEKU0QlkMDKjFVC7kpXDsIbRt6xxFLxmchUrR7W387HggAQdy_3pdPYqPhUakamkrjGRNJZ8O5kwyTUN8rxiXntJLXzfPtw/s320/ron+pizza.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><div>He has been a good boy all week about eating. Nancy will be proud of me!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274342375535474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 306px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_mRvl6efiCT8wwiDY71eO_OqvGA1T-sf4-0qWexHkqX5UucaOOYXxVeFsunlaG0m5dMvu-3ilHmBhTE2bLCgeraYokgelvVmP_4MkjH7iz_IRDujaFUCrLdvR8UjjURb_T0Qvw/s320/ron+pizza+2.JPG" border="0" />So after we ate, Ron gave his pizza crusts to Jane. I swear that dog is Italian (like Ron). She LOVES bread, cheese, etc. He showed her that he was putting it in her bowl:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274090516963154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2Q135BEdy1aZAH1JuXQSnHybh5hdnMB-1h0Au5sb7wzbtc95WjezcrgETOrI64hYFDgccOdYco4T6H1KSQQoru_55-OMqzXacYo7gfkfHH34Ddse35h9o8rzEEFtOuAplLEvvA/s320/jane+pizza+1.JPG" border="0" />Then he put it in her bowl:<br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274250973008994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnFrjE0zEsYBRq96eiUw_7-RR41XDmqvAdZYtJJ7suE76x3lz13igY2vXMRHLRUqfDUeLWtZ0bKGBImNRBOqkBShOL5uFaSDygjaOk0eXH_kYvme5lyBxK2Yo1R3k3emj6xUxtSg/s320/jane+pizza.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p>And she went to sit down. Ron made like he was putting it in her bowl again. She didn't budge.</p><p></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364276842569789298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdfhPzpdxPg1OWGtNWHuSf7OKLPuNaphMjV1lBA6qWv9p0P95bA2MNn8h2vX4F5tf_03aMH0GqeCmtwE7wvoWXiIj-__qt4sbCmTyinCDsowSXtsVThDA33kYDoJK6HjK7JZbfg/s320/jane+pizza+2.JPG" border="0" />As soon as he got up to go over to the stove again, she leapt up and grabbed the crust out of her bowl. She had that crust in her mouth and was back at her bed before you could say Lightning McQueen. Hey that might be another new nickname for Jane.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-50364972713966978842009-07-28T08:22:00.025-05:002009-07-28T12:39:08.280-05:00Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?Okay so normally I post about my dreams, but it's a special week so I'm posting about real life for once. My friend Nancy is out of town for the week, and whenever she's gone, her dog Jane and her husband Ron mope around like she's never coming home. It's really cute: <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363503232680873378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 272px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioUBZAzoxJcwdx9AedSG1JTsLoyE_ZU5CvgXtY5C6N8wyOUkpn8TwTzbf6ozUOOvF7Qoa0dJS71tUH4LAtmU4XN75CP9Qu9HOo9ffQ5FxrAnlSljwrIP5fgJlSckMZ0ABLeKoV1A/s320/lookin'+pitiful.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><div>Anyway, while Ron and Jane mope, they both refuse to eat, so before she left, Nancy and I talked about how they both wouldn't eat while she was gone so I promised her I'd come over and make dinner for Ron. I did this last night. I made redneck <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">stroganoff</span></span> (made with ketchup instead of wine) and peas, with brownies for dessert. It was delicious. :-)<br /></div><br /><div>While I cooked for Ron, he made Jane's supper: </div><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-wn6gfsu8n9M9cwTieBGynTfNDVIkxm8Rstk_k2NAQqin83Kem-jYzl9gkoMz0NBG-FWdBC_m3RNT3g5LnGdRAxrF64sZGMaBs-29fOLKMW51J0TtA71Iq0kSsqRotLRri5c0g/s1600-h/dad"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363502757300435218" style="WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-wn6gfsu8n9M9cwTieBGynTfNDVIkxm8Rstk_k2NAQqin83Kem-jYzl9gkoMz0NBG-FWdBC_m3RNT3g5LnGdRAxrF64sZGMaBs-29fOLKMW51J0TtA71Iq0kSsqRotLRri5c0g/s320/dad's+cookin%27.JPG" border="0" /></a></p></div><br /><div>Ron usually puts cheese in her dinner to bribe Jane to eat while Nancy's gone: </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363503835969823842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjz1IcOOcC6YXVow60tmJDhi62zYSKdOWmDOG7dTbarGUar4dYu0gTAvXOOsEFm_KdLZuS0eUCvG1m_o7x2R04QEXoEZovDbUUOMmsI1GijfIAieCY26sQDgg-JFKqLHx9A1hEg/s320/dinner's+ready!.JPG" border="0" />Then he shows it to her so she can see the cheese:</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363504120171384034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXU9IzOOuY0CEU0Ws2tFeSxuQPLlkWQGasd_f3NRNGQB3mYuUhJweqa0i15MdoQL4o5hricApPSOfM6-dqdAP_3IKVHJBgpR3rMnUI7ysyDykTzEKZZ-vPe1GGa9qPd4p34EqGQ/s320/c'mon+jane+eat!.JPG" border="0" />And then he tells here to "EAT!":<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363509761425386626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxocLF_ExXLbBbjN7fgVLUA5JPGkr4dKPaXLzVEsd2q3wkOo-rRkYjUfSs_KbjK0BgX88FIHECOTAT-Fqy4mCihrP1m2c4ar9I_udMRhTISknJLd7od_PJbY_XIfn5Dhz1DxRx3A/s320/it's+delicious!.JPG" border="0" /><br />So sometimes if she's been on a hunger strike long enough, she'll eat. Other times, Jane sniffs it like she's a bomb-sniffer and it's full of C4:</div><div></div><div></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363506208434505922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21eWlDvvVAtmeBg6wHsLORzQq1T6MsKg61m5SBphyphenhyphen1JpL-Fnl5QFr2cvItrz8zbkOrnD20rg7WgDMt-RoKq6mu8r3cqvrs5h-FkGcoy-D7Zj_OYNpGT9qg5s8t08euiL7wWqqFw/s320/just+try+it!.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Then she'll decide she doesn't want to eat because Nancy's <em><strong>gone, and she's never coming back</strong></em>:</div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363505569754403970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdpUx4UabpdqTbDkoUo1t_g9D8ThRnJqSOhVjSGjoSsUbkuY5GO8QaJZefiig38QV3F1Uy5r29qAurUdaVAFvXiIkmBx_n050uYSQX3HdyZ1pEt5O6y1cZGxfyZKl5rwPCqaZMQ/s320/lookin'+pitiful+part+2.JPG" border="0" />But eventually hunger got the best of her last night and she sniffed the bowl again:<br /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363505186396439058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DJLp4HZcw8CyN7vJMG_GQ_7tjZFlTnEGVl0EPXypAZoqqaeNSrMkOAaHu7qsC7FxBo05c9lBVdhePYJKE-KF0_2iry1ARarUGVXItp428wuyVG29lPtELJAT6o31Iw_TCruzrw/s320/it+smells+good.JPG" border="0" />and promptly decided to chow down:</div><div></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363506788956763570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx81JOrXCFJBJ7gp2UjTc4qbdIdj6_4rrs2Eh2WROqMcozgDBhZlHiDvRN-eCIi5rgNktdvRgINdJrjHCawaQPRHq3FYKnu5trE-wO1m6gtlvb5jnckoNERicJkLV-1RpgG_trMw/s320/yummy.JPG" border="0" />leading to this result:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363507309138597250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd5aXkzpuxCFD11iyyGC40SR6bki-zD5EouqgXF5-XNWLjXURxIKzcOR6Hn2iUeR6XxVrYGiD-CZLSWKL6NkNIxe6fdfGD33cSzikObTPIp8XcfFcwuyBw9KUhXnHJhmFIFl0CZw/s320/mmmmm.JPG" border="0" />Pretty good. One down, one to go. Hey Ron, dinner's ready!<br /><br />Here's Ron circling <strong>his</strong> food:<br /><br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363507806034570994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAphjC5jbOlz9fTdSmTflXrc23YFXZtJRp8ARL401dILJpo9at2YmvMCPGvf4ECfmI_NxbFr4m3ca-pDzvAK_Hd_7ROfE9vzbAdouqhrlCYDwi_Tl_-Gr_cvLCbE2hqq_f3zp_Zw/s320/ron+with+fork.JPG" border="0" />It didn't take him as long to decide to eat as it did Jane:</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363508176356505922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN74nKUnmuNylNlYGyVEoawWq40bi3FoVCzAAGrObYYzrMv6dXHliujcjTmbTzQHiYlyAXo7iJYFtQD_dCg_JnyPgtkMW45aVWi2m1PrpKkMrssTirINujMOFcsbT0Metk-agnkg/s320/ron+yummy.JPG" border="0" />which led to this result (Hey, dinner was <strong>good</strong>!):<br /></div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363508455310455890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqW6xpMSIm3Nvqg4rOzlQ3vFxhZzAezGojm8xC1KEFmGoi2rC0Eq3pTe-DtNwg2vESKeJqO7k3NguvFnkAZpCUY1xgjueWSEWKyll5tZr7JTCNAbsPl89QCMVFsFRVPNTg37KmA/s320/mmmmm+part+2.JPG" border="0" /><br />Two down! Woo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hoo</span></span>!! Nancy will be very happy with me. The final result of dinner was this:</div><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363508836352597394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pgM16-Uss9uQuNW4S-Fe2JIZX3J7AHPRTdkZySihkOXWw0JWsYxKQANWQycWuzSyj6_LBLxGM_x_Sr_jLBIBNoYzI1r7Y7mW1rab2rkGxDxvn5JQ0pKjU7K5ZEH5kXi9874HYg/s320/jane.JPG" border="0" /><br />I tried to get a picture of Ron doing the same thing, and oddly enough, he wouldn't cooperate (sigh). Hey, I told you I was not right in the head.</div><div></div><div>Come home soon, Nancy! We miss you!</div></div></div></div>Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-84948038583880566272009-06-05T15:32:00.001-05:002009-06-05T15:32:50.988-05:00Haven't posted in a looooong time. Will try to start posting regularly again.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-930455302003-04-22T08:53:00.000-05:002009-07-28T09:15:35.122-05:00I had a dream last night that Brad Pitt was posing butt naked for Playgirl magazine. I wanted a copy of it, and my friend Brad (who is so not gay at all!) told me, "I get a subscription, and I just throw it away. I don't know who sent it to me, but it's gross. If you want it, I'll save the issue for you."
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<br />Anyway when I went to open the centerfold, I woke up <sigh>.
<br />Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-929895602003-04-21T11:30:00.000-05:002009-07-28T09:15:35.125-05:00Well I haven't posted for awhile but I had such a strange dream I had to write about it. It was all in German (and in black and white), first of all. I dreamed Adolf Hitler had won the war, and was ruler of Europe. He wanted to invade Iraq, and I was one of his top Nazi advisors. The Nazi Party headquarters was disguised as a Casino, so that no one could blow it up. Most everyone lived underground, however because Hitler decided it would be better because there wouldn't be any people in the buildings if anyone blew them up. Anyway, as a result of Hitler winning the war, technology as we know it today didn't exist. The elevators in the casino were nothing more than a birdcage type thing suspended on a chain, that worked kind of like a ski lift--you shut the door and pulled the chain and it went down below the earth. The other Nazi advisors were really mad at me because I had never been in combat (I had, but had never been injured), and had voted (in a secret meeting they didn't tell me about) to have me in the "morter" position in the battle, because that person was always killed first. I was supposed to be at this meeting (we always ate dinner together) but they changed the location of the meeting, and when I finally found it, they acted like I had deliberately not come to eat with them, but I told them I couldn't find the meeting and that I had tried...While trying to find the meeting I got in the elevator and went below the earth and found a room in the casino that was showing pornographic movies from Poland and Italy. The room was full of people all laughing at the movie.
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<br />When Adolf announced his decision (about whether I would go into battle or not), at the last minute he said, "I have decided she will not be in this battle," which enraged the other Nazi advisors, and they stormed at me trying to kill me. Most of them fell down on top of each other and started killing whoever they could get their hands on, so I ran, trying to escape. I ended up in my mom's front yard, and it was set on fire (along with her house), because the Nazi's were there and were trying to find me. There was some guy on his cell phone (go figure!) and when I told him I needed to get to France to escape, he told me to go away because he was making a call.
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<br />I buried my clothes because I was wearing a Nazi party uniform, and I knew it would be easier to spot me if I had them on, and then went and stole some clothes hanging on a clothesline that I found. What I didn't know was that Adolf knew I would do this, and the clothes I stole off of the clothesline were in fact more Nazi clothes, so I had no idea I was still "flagged" so to speak. I ran down the street trying to escape and woke up at that point. I remember thinking, "gosh, that guy (meaning Hitler) was really sharp, no wonder he won the war..."Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-99789032002-02-21T17:09:00.000-06:002009-07-28T09:15:35.129-05:00I'm back baby!!!! I knew this "Dreamer's Block" couldn't last!!! Here goes... Last night the dream started like this. I was in the back of my mom's old car, a 1977 Chevrolet Caprice Classic, color: old geezer blue. There were two small black girls in the front seat, and I was in the back with a first grader who was somehow related to me, although I don't know how. Anyway the car was driving itself, and it was POURING down rain! We had just picked them up from school and needed to drop them off at home. We finally stopped in this neighborhood in front of these apartments. I got out of the car and pulled out the stroller (the two girls in the front rode in the stroller) and proceeded to put them in it and try to take them down the sidewalk. I say 'try' because the sidewalk was incredibly steep. It was almost a vertical drop where the sidewalk met the street. Anyway next thing I know I am at their front door, and I have dropped them off. I go back to the car, and as I am trying to walk up the sidewalk (the stroller has mysteriously disappeared), all of a sudden I am wearing these 6" high heels, and I can hardly get up the sidewalk. There was grass beside the sidewalk so I walked in there for some traction, and finally I reached the mailbox and was able to pull myself up by it. I got to the car, and the back door was open and the stroller was in the back seat. I shut the back door. I was looking for something (I don't know what) and this black and white miniature pug nosed dog from across the street came over and started barking at me. I had a bag full of rocks in my hand, so I hit him and he whimpered home. My relative was still in the back seat, so I decided to drive down the narrow sidewalk because it's pouring down rain. I started to drive down the sidewalk, and it turned into a steep, narrow, winding blacktop road that was surrounded by red mud. I finally negotiated the car down to her apartment, and when I got out of the car to put her in the house, I notice she lived in a BIG church. I had nowhere to turn the car around, so I drove in the church and turned it around there. I drove very carefully back up the sidewalk, and when I got on the road, I decided to drive to FL for vacation. I drove down Schillingers Road, and right before I got to Three Notch Kroner road, there was this big flea market on the side of the road. The woman who was running it was at least 976 years old. Her son and daugher-in-law were helping. Anyway as I was speeding, as I come up to this spectacle on the left hand side of the road, and there was a state trooper parked on the side of the road, which flipped me out because I didn't want to get a ticket. I decided to stop at the flea market so hopefully he wouldn't give me a one [ticket](turns out the car was empty). I pulled off the left side of the road (the weather turned really beautiful by the way, sunny, and seventy degrees) so I did a 360 in this mud parking lot, and the red dust was flying everywhere, in order to slow the car down (I was driving really fast). I got out and started looking at the stuff. It was all retro/antique stuff, but it was all junk basically, and the prices were unreal! I looked at this ratty Christmas tree, where she's got Christmas ornaments for sale, and she had this 2" stained glass ornament that was a cutout of the State of Alabama, it was in <b>bad </b>shape, and she wanted $412 for it! I looked around some more, and went over to price a bucket on the floor, when all of a sudden I was on the floor in a living room that had no furniture, just a huge white door with a built in doggie door. It was a farmhouse built in the 1800's that belonged to my friends Ron and Nancy. It had hardwood floors and white walls. Anyway Ron and I were sitting on the floor, and their dog Jane came in through the doggie door. Jane in real life is a Dalmation, but in my dream she was a German Shepherd. Anyway she STUNK to high heaven, so we made her go outside. Then I woke up.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-99416962002-02-20T18:44:00.000-06:002009-07-28T09:15:35.132-05:00So, here I was all excited last night. I have just started this "dream blog" and so I just knew I'd have another spectacular dream to report, and no. Nothing. Bupkus. I think I am having "Dreamer's Block" <sigh>. I mean, I have really strange dreams all the time. I dreamed once (when I was 16) that I married a spaceship named Richard. What does that tell you? Also, my dreams tend to include either a) people I work with, or b) somebody famous. I had a GREAT dream one time about John Laraquette (from Night Court) but didn't write it down, so it's gone forever. Thus the purpose of this blog. I want to remember each and every strange dream I have.
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<br />Never fear. "Dreamer's Block" can't last forever, so keep checking back to see the strange yet wonderful world of my dreams! Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-99094232002-02-19T22:18:00.001-06:002009-07-28T09:15:35.134-05:00I have strange dreams. Saturday night I dreamed that there was a paranormal universe, and if you wanted to go on vacation, for example if you lived in Dallas and wanted to vacation in Hawaii, well that was forbidden but you could go to this paranormal universe. I decided to go to the "Parun" as it is called, so the next thing I know I am driving around in this universe. The cops drove oranges, and when they wanted to pull you over for a driving offense, the orange lit up. I was doing about 300 MPH, and I noticed a lit orange in my rearview mirror. I didn't stop, and finally decided to return home, because even though we could visit the Parun, they couldn't visit us. I got through the portal, and somehow the orange followed me, and the cop arrested me. I was put in the Parun jail, which consisted of a big drawer with air holes in it. The cop pulled open the drawer, dropped me in, and left me to die. However, when I dropped in there, all of a sudden I was covered with candy bars, and there were sodas all around in the drawer, so I didn't starve or die of thirst, which was the idea. A week later they came back to check on me, and were quite upset that I was still alive. At this point I woke up.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-99094082002-02-19T22:18:00.000-06:002009-07-28T09:15:35.137-05:00I dreamed that I was dating Paulie Walnuts from "the Sopranos". We were in Huntsville, on Drake, headed to Brahan Spring Park, when we stopped at the redlight at Cobb. I looked over and my boss was in the car next to me. I was mortified! I knew if he saw me with this old geezer I'd never hear the end of it, so I ducked my head down in the car so he wouldn't see me. Paulie saw this and thought I was dating my boss as well (two timing Paulie no less) and he became furious! He followed Bernd (my boss) to a large complex that was a bowling alley/pool/card playing establishment. Paulie went in (Bernd was going to play cards) and whacked my boss, then left me standing there in the bowling alley. I didn't know how I was going to get home, so I went outside the bowling alley and started looking for a ride. I saw Joyce Thornton (a lady I used to work with) and she said she'd give me a ride home, but it was a long drive, and she's old as the hills, so I said no thanks. I didn't want to bother her. I went over to this dormatory to see if I could find a ride in there, and when I opened the door, it was full of milk, so I closed it. Then I turned around, and on the swing set, I saw three Steve Martins. One of them was the "Roxanne" Steve, with the big nose, a regular Steve, and a really tiny Steve. I asked for a ride but they said they had to go. They all shrunk right before me and were about two feet tall when they took off. Next Jon Bon Jovi walked up to me (with his band) and told me he'd give me a ride home if I photographed the band. I said sure, so we went to this overpass, and I took pictures. They were all grinning wildly in the pictures, and I told them to please stop looking so silly but they didn't stop. Then, we got in the car again, and as we were driving home, Richie Sambora and Jon were telling me about growing up in New Jersey, and playing baseball together as kids. Then the alarm woke me up.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3346032.post-99093962002-02-19T22:17:00.000-06:002009-07-28T09:15:35.139-05:00I dreamed that I was dying on the side of the road, and two of my co-workers, Larry and Sid, stopped by to see what the problem was. When Larry saw it was me, he said "Aww, just let her die," so they got back in the truck and left.Miss Chevioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16188189213821495156noreply@blogger.com0