Little Sistered

My little sis doesn't know this, until know, but we call getting better dealed, Little Sistered. Really, we use her name and add an -ed on the end. KP's the one responsible for the adage. It all began on a trip to Houston. We called Little Sis on the drive to see what she was up to that night. She told us that her datebook had been cleared to hang out with her favorite sis and bro-in-law (ha!), but then hours later she called to say that some better option had come up and she would see us the next day. We discussed this with my peeps and my Dad said that Little Sis is notorious for better dealing. I mean, I get that a girl's got to look out for her own best interests, but you would think not wanting to get smothered by your older sibling for ditching her might be near the top of the list.

KP and I are currently in the process of being Little Sistered by our ferrel cat, Scrappy, otherwise known as Kitty. Scrappy has been around for about a year and a half. I started feeding him when the owner of the clutter-filled house across the street decided to clean out his garage. Mice became a neighborhood norm and I got the wise idea that Scrappy might just kill those little displaced rodents. Right I was! Scrappy is gnarly and scarred, but he's a hunter all the same and protects me from the need to get on top of furniture and shriek as I try to figure out how to save my soul from a one-inch-long animal.

For a little over a month, Scrappy's appearances have become more disparate. At first I was convinced that he must have gotten himself locked in someone's garage because when he did show up, he was nothing but a meowing bag of starving bones. He'd drink a bowl of milk, eat a can of wet food, and a bowl of dry food all in one sitting. I actually felt sorry for the vocal little guy (or girl?). That was until I caught a glimpse of him over at my in-laws house a street away. He was gallivanting around with a feline I had not seen. When he saw me, he pretended not to even know me. The nerve.

In the meantime, this kind of cute white and grey cat started hanging around our house. Two days ago, KP and I decided we might as well feed that one, since it seems to appreciate our shade and bowls of water. But, Scrappy must have caught wind of the changes over here at the Pac house. He knew we were on to his little sistering and wasn't going to stand for our fair weather dedication to him. He came back last night, with a vengeance like nothing I have seen since the morning after we last got better dealed by little sis. He meowed on the porch for about 30 minutes at 11 o'clock last night, until I got up to feed him. Then, this morning at 7 am, the crazy cat started the process of defending his front porch from the cute kitty. He made no apologies for his absence, but instead claimed his place and told that other cat to eff off, these are his people, and his toughness allows him to choose when the hell he feels like gracing them with his presence.

What we have been up to...

The pictures below are from the Byman/Kiel wedding in Marshall, TX two weeks ago. As usual, I am a terrible photographer and I took NO pictures of the bride and groom, except one blurry one of their first dance. It was a beautiful daytime wedding, which if you ask me, is the way to go. Check out the Byman Blog for some better pics.

Cool Steve.

Baby Dave and Sue Sue.

Lukers with Daisies.

The Kiels first dance.

Us.

Davis tearing up daisies...he was playing "she loves me, she loves me not."

The car-load on the was to Shreveport, LA.

Davis' serious face.

Sweet Baby Dave.

Wait, what's this? Is something missing. Damn straight. A big TV used to hang there on the wall. With it was taken my sense of security and faith in mankind. Ok, that's going overboard a little bit. We were burglarized on Monday during the day. I came home to a busted open back door, missing TV and DVD player, broken sculpture, freaked out dogs, and still cool house. Not fun at all. That's all I will say about this on the blog. Oh, except that we are now alarm owners.

Aww.

The post below reminds me of this song:

When I can tell that he's had enough

My husband never yells, well unless it's out of excitement, which he does often. KP is a happy-go-lucky guy. I, on the other hand, raise my voice often. It's where we each came from. People in my family just talk louder, probably to get attention, but also when we are upset. I have tried to curb this reaction and behavior, but I think it might just be ingrained in my personality.

KP never gets upset when the house is a wreck. I go nuts and blame it on him and the dogs and beg him to help me clean it because there is no way I can pick up the wreckage that I have created all on my own. He always obliges.

Every now and then though, KP has had enough...of my moodiness, messiness, and laziness. Hey, I am the first to admit that I possess those qualities. I flew my true colors on a flag above my head the entire time we were dating, so don't think I played the switch-a-roo to get this guy to marry me; he knew what he was in for.

How I know that he's had enough: We have a giant basket full of medicine in our linen closet in the master bathroom. It sits on the bottom shelf. The lighting isn't great in the closet and the basket is three or four layers deep with allergy remedies, bandages, random stomach cures, and a variety of creams that are probably unidentifiable at this point. But, when I need something, I can probably guess that it's in that basket; I just have to make sure to check expiration dates.

Two days ago, I pulled the basket out and set it on KP's vanity in the bathroom. I always do this, simply because my vanity is covered in makeup, hair products, and jewelry and there's simply no room to set it down on my side. Typically I find what I need from the basket and leave the bathroom, basket still resting on his vanity.

Yesterday morning I went into the bathroom to see that the basket had moved. It was now on my vanity chair on top of several days worth of possibly wearable again clothes. He had had enough.

And that my friends, is reason 10,921 why I love my husband.

To thank him for his kindness and gentleness, I did ALL of the laundry in the house, vacuumed and mopped the floors, and made a real dinner, which does not happen as often as it should in the summertime. Oh, and I put the basket away.

He's 31; I am STILL 29

Here are pictures from KP's bday party over the weekend. Never mind the green pool. There was plenty of chlorine in it to kill the algae.

About 1/2 of this cake is still in my fridge. I just can't eat anymore of it. It's a lot of pressure to have the only sweet tooth in the house.

The Aldridges and Perkins in the pool.

Awww, little Ella.

Muah, in a self-portrait, minus make up. So glad I am a natural beauty!

We had a fly problem, so KP came up with a solution. Sausage on a stick diversion.

He placed it in the yard, away from our food table, and was mighty proud of his brain power.

The Perkins, cut off at the chest.

Ade, sis-in-law, hamming it up. The Maxwells are in the background.

The Schroeders. Please note Jen's bucket o'Margarita!

Mac, the sailor dog. Zeus and Mac took turns riding on their raft. Gus prefers dry land.

Ella, the great. She was the hit of the party. She loves chocolate cake. Her dad loves icing, especially in the form of a blue balloon. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Where I Went Wrong By: ADP

Warning: If you have a weak stomach, do not read this while eating.

My thumb still itches like hell, but it is finally healing, nearly 8 weeks after the slice that changed me forever. While dressing it for the 85th time last night, I evaluated my actions with this here wound and thought about what changes I would make, if I am the unluckiest person on earth and I do this to myself again.

1. When I ran my thumb across the razor-sharp Pampered Chef blade, ran to the sink and saw my bone, my choice should have been to go to the ER.


2. The wound seemed to be healing fairly well after a week or so. So, I made the decision to participate in the Easter confetti egg fight, which included egg shells made out of titanium. Wound split open.


3. I cleaned it several times a day with hydrogen peroxide, which does clean wounds, but should only be used on the first cleaning, as it eats healthy skin. Use saline solution.


4. I slathered it in Neosporin several times a day, despite a known family allergy to the salve. When it itched like poison ivy, I continued to rub it all over my thumb. I did this until I showed Little Sis, who also has the allergy, and was prescribed some wicked-awesome magic skin grower. She shared it with me less than a week ago and miraculously, my thumb is almost back to normal.


5. Did I mention that I should have figured out the Neosporin allergy sooner?!

My thumb still has "new skin," so I am protecting it with the largest bandages that are made, latex-free if you must know, because I am also allergic to latex. But, I can bend it and it is no longer a pink oozing mess. You've got to appreciate the little things.

Over Memorial Weekend, the beach house we stayed in had a Pampered Chef Devil Mandolin. I almost threw theirs away as well. My stomach cringes just thinking about it. Eeek.

Pictures from Houston

Last weekend we were in Houston for Steph's baby shower, Christina and George's wedding, and some great time at my parent's house, where we swam, played with the nephews, hung out with the fam, and watched some serious driveway power washing. Below are the only pictures I took. Ok, you caught me, these pictures were actually taken when we arrived home on Sunday.
Above is the giantest (yes, i know that's not a word) energy drink I have ever seen. I took it next to a normal-sized cantaloupe. Even so, it's difficult to grasp its enormity. And yes, KP drank all but a couple of sips, and then took a nap.

Above is our bounty of vegetables from both of our parents' gardens. My Mom has green beans, cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, corn, and peppers growing. KP's parents have bushes and bushes of tomatoes. Who needs to chase squirrels and birds away for months when you can just get your parents to do it for you?

We're having the green beans and a cucumber and tomato salad as part of KP's birthday dinner tonight. Maybe I will be a good little photographer/blogger and take pictures. Maybe.