Happy Halloween

For me it's really, Happy Almost Christmas. I don't care much about Halloween although I did dress up this year for a party. I went as Bitter, Disappointed Dorothy attending her Class of '37 Reunion. I had a grey wig braided like Dorothy's hair, the appropriate blue checked dress and some matronly shoes with support hose. Jim Beam and a stuffed rat instead of Toto in my basket. You had to be there, it was pretty funny. Girlie is going as a dragonfly tonight.

So I Guess I'm Blogging Again

I'm a sneak. I used to be over here but I quit blogging for awhile. When I started back up, I had to switch back to Blogger (where I gave birth to my blog a long while ago) because the quality of my little cartoons is so much better on this program. So here I am again, completely without fanfare and looking like I'll post two or three times a week. Or more. We'll see. Here's a recap: I'm an artist and an author of two novels. But my most important gig is mom to my 8 year old named (for blogging purposes), Girlie. If you remember her from before, the answer is yes, she still takes her stuffed snake, Sara, everywhere with her. She has added Gabriel, Sasha, Rainbows, Kelly, Zoe and many others to the mix but Sara is the boss snake. Of course that is subject to change if they release a Webkinz snake character. Virtual pets seem to rule around here lately. Her virtual dog gets as much or more attention than her real dog, Marty, at least measured in minutes spent. So anyway, glad to be back. We'll chat soon.

Global warming

Art by moi

Red Dot 12x12"

The President Addresses a Graduating Class

Webkinz Terrorists

Lame Duck

Bush Hires a New Advisor

Not exactly goodbye...

I've moved! Come visit me at my new digs. http://www.wendyboucher.com/blog Make that, PLEASE come visit me at my new digs. Oh, and if you are one of those nice people that link to me -- a little housekeeping will be in order. Thanks amigas!

I've been played.

Girlie was squirrely last night at dinner time. We had homemade soup (ever so delicious, of course). While we were eating, a friend stopped by to drop off some Nancy Drew books for Girlie. As I went to retrieve them, Girlie decided not to stay at the dinner table and opened the front door, which allowed Bella the lightning dog to make her escape. Ugh. We managed to retrieve her. Then, as we finished the aforementioned soup, Girlie decided that it would be fun to squish her mushrooms agains the inside of the soup bowl with her fingers. "Look, Mom, mushroom juice." Ah, hah, hah. So not funny to me and therefore exceedingly hilarious to Girlie. Until she knocked over her bowl and its contents after I had warned her to stop several times. Ugh. We cleaned it up. I confess I had a very trying day yesterday. I'm in the middle of swapping around webhosts and such and it isn't going smoothly because I don't have (uhm, what color is your thumb if you're good at internet stuff? Not a green thumb but a ...?) I guess Girlie could see that I was gearing up for a little crankfest at her expense so she said, "I wouldn't blame you if your punished me." She also said a little bit later, "Sorry about the two crimes I committed, Mommy." Okay, that was funny. Crankfest averted. I laughed, we got on with dinner and hey, wait a minute, what exactly did she learn? When trouble lurks, make Mommy laugh and you'll never get a time out again. Yep, that's about right. Sorry Dr. Spock.

Stephanie, oh Stephanie, how you made my day!

As most of you probably already know, Stephanie over at Pickleness rocks! On a day when I'm pulling out all my hair trying to figure our Bluehost and Wordpress, I get this lovely message that Stephanie has bought my novel, Parvenue Throws A Party (you know, that one prominently displayed in my sidebar). Thank you, Stephanie. I'm going to look in my computer for something to send you as a thank you. Ah, here it is, a Laughing Gull running for dear life from me and my sidekick (Girlie). It's not every day that you get sent a cyber seagull. You're welcome.

Watch out web, I've bitten off more than I can chew!

So. I have decided to change my main website, www.wendyboucher.com, to a different host and incorporate my blog at the same site using Wordpress. So far I have managed to cancel my old hosting service and delete my old site. If you go to www.wendyboucher.com, you'll see the first page of a blog that will be part of the new system. What I do next, I have NO IDEA! I'm working on it, I'm working on it. In the meantime, this Blogger blog, if nothing else, should remain in proper working order until I figure out my mess.

This will sound like bragging...

because it is. Unabashed bragging. As I mentioned in my life and death post below, last night I got to meet Izzy! Quite unbelievably, a blogger who I greatly admire lives very close to me. Guess what? She is exactly as advertised folks. Cool, funny, down to earth and exceedingly likeable. I AM SO LUCKY that we connected. She posted about it too and as she said, we showed up at Starbucks wearing the exact same clothes and ended up chatting for three hours. What she didn't mention is that we closed down Starbucks and had to move to an outside table where we continued to gab until very late while odd people came and went from the parking lot. I barely noticed them. The odd ones, that is. I'm wearing a big fat grin today. Thanks, Iz!

Which would you choose?

Death by car crash or death by poisonous spider bite? That was the life and death decision presented to me the other day as I drove to pick up Girlie from day camp. It goes to show you that you never know when you will be faced with life and death choice. And of course, it's all my Hubby's fault. The trauma of the event caused me to block it out of my mind for a few days but the story resurfaced tonight as I met with the awesome and deservedly famous Izzymom (a later post, to be sure). Here's how it went down - I'm back to the spider story, keep up people. Traffic was thick. And it had been raining - that bucket load kind of rain we get here in Florida - so many drivers were in panic mode. Panicky oldsters tend to drive with one foot on the brake. Panicky youngsters lock their knees and can't take their feet off the gas pedal. Throw in a lake or two in the right hand lane and you've got a dangerous traffic situation. (Cue the Twilight Zone music.) Now, imagine if you will, a big fat round-bodied spider that looks an awful lot like a brown widow spider creeping across the top of your windshield, on the inside of course, and just visible in your upward peripheral vision. It pauses just above your lap...thinking, thinking, mmmm, tasty mommy. Steve McQueen, were he still with us, could not have pulled a more perfect maneuver with my less than agile soccer mom van. Lickety split, I was off the road and squishing that spider in a used kleenex. I might have run over a Mini Cooper but it's hard to tell in the behemoth that I drive. If that was you I crushed, sorry. I still managed to pick up my daughter on time but unfortunately, I was still reeling from my experience and told her about it. "SHAME ON YOU. SHAME ON YOU FOR HURTING NATURE." Obviously, she was missing the life and deathness of the situation. "What would you have wanted me to do?" "You should have found a stick and a big leaf and some tape or string to attach the leaf and then gently scooped the spider out of the car." "That spider wanted to kill me." "SHAME ON YOU." "Okay. Next time. I promise." Sheesh, kids. As I drove home, I wondered where that spider had come from. Then I recalled that my Hubby had been using my van to haul sod. That's right. The real reason I don't have a Prius yet is that my Hubby can't let go of the pickup truck, I mean van. Sod. There's still dirt and sod droppings in the back. And probably more spiders. When I find one, I'm going to get that stick and leaf and tape and gently scoop the spider onto the seat of Hubby's Lexus. Oh yes I am.

My Cleo and Max picture is done!

I love this new collage. Besides, it proves to my cats that I never meant to play favorites having done a picture of my dog. Why is Max cut off? I just like how it looked and I took it from a photograph where the two of them were lying in those positions on our slate patio. Max was feral and to this day, will not tolerate being petted unless it's on her rump. Thus the rump shot. Cleo, fully featured, is the alpha pet in this household. She regularly thumps the dog. I'm having fun with this and I would be delighted to take commissions for art of your pets too. Just go to my profile and email me if you're interested.

What's on your desk?

It's Friday and I am going to clear my work area. But first I want to show you my typical working conditions. Exhibit A: I have spoken to the management about the yammering cat that keeps showing up in my inbox but thus far they've done nothing about it. If ignored, she gets up and licks me across the forehead. And if that weren't bad enough, Exhibit B: The dog-on-my-lap infestation continues as well. I don't know how I'm supposed to get any work done during the day. Luckily at night, dogs, cats, Girlies and snakes all retire to their proper beds. Then Hubby kills things in his video game and I work peacefully on my computer. If I ever slur my writing in a comment, you'll know that wine was involved too. Have a great weekend, all.

Big Heart and Topless Dolls

"So Girlie, whatchya doing with all those topless Polly Pockets?" "They're giving their tops to charity...and their pets too because they thought that would be a nice thing to give." "Okay then. Great job, Sweetie." What you can't hear is the tune Girlie is humming while she lines up the charity offerings. I asked her about it and she said it was the charity theme song. I really can't wait to pie hole my blog (add audio). Editor's note: Her game continues and I overheard her say that one of the Polly Pockets would have to donate a whole man to charity. (Hee hee.) And now thieves are stealing from the charity pile. I love imagination.

When the wind blows...

In honor of the first day of Hurricane Season here in Florida: thirteen things I will put in my emergency kit. 1. Mixers that don’t require refrigeration. 2. The Crocodile Hunter. I picture lots of roaming alligators and snakes and when he’s not busy wrestling with them, he can entertain Girlie with his Australian accent. “Crikey!” 3. A spare notebook computer and a dedicated generator the size of Texas. I feel it’s my civic duty to carry on blogging during a natural disaster. 4. President Bush. He has this habit of running away from trouble so I’ll just stuff him in my closet and pull him out during a hurricane to make him actually SEE the problems as they arise. 5. Kites. 6. An athletic support bra for my tree. 7. The Johnson & Johnson company. Don’t they pretty much make everything you might need for personal care? 8. The cast of “The Office.” Without television, I might like to see Steve Carrel and the gang act out a few episodes. Hmm. Ditto the cast of “Lost.” 9. Lots of books and Itsy Bitsy book lights. I guess the books had better be thrillers so that they’ll give me the chills (and I won’t miss the air conditioning). 10. A stopwatch. I’ll want to time how long it takes for my Hubby hurts himself trying to fix something that would be better left for the contractors. 11. Sharpies. Just because I like them and it just feels like you should have a permanent marker during a crisis. 12. A non-electric shaver. I’ll be wearing shorts, you know. 13. Plane tickets. Because let’s face it -- I’ll prepare for the category one or two storm but if something like Katrina is even glancing my direction, I’m flying the family to Toronto. (Toronto because I’ve never been there and we might as well make a vacation of it!) Happy Hurricane Season everybody. Editor's Note: Everybody is quite concerned that I forgot food. Hello? Did I not include the Crocodile Hunter? And mixers? I'm thinking alligator bites and margaritas, alas no rocks, with salt. Even Girlie will eat alligator tail. God, did I just say that? Somebody come save me - I have lived in Florida too long! Oh and Izzy? Zone D? I'm a B. Do you have room for three people, two cats, one dog and some fish? Go here for the Thursday Thirteen hub.

B*oobs, Backyards and Buddies

Most of our back yard is consumed by a giant screened in porch - it's a Florida thing. Actually, it would be even more of a Florida thing if there was a swimming pool but we can't put one in because of a giant grandfather oak with b*oobs. A view from the porch. Make that a grandmother oak. She's at least an E cup. Beside the porch where the tree resides, there is a sizeable yard but you never would have known it when we moved in. It was completely overgrown with a hedge and razor-like palm trees that sawed at your knees. We took all that out and for awhile, I pretended that I was going to grow a flower garden. (insert my Hubby laughing hysterically.) Finally, we did what any self-respecting parents would do and put in grass. Today. We put in grass. (Cue the violins - my back is killing me.) Bella LOVES the new grass. Before we could even lay down the sod, my stellar Hubby had to repair the sprinkler system. This required him to replace some bits and bobs. So when he was done, Girlie came racing into the house: "MOMMY! MOMMY! Look what Daddy gave me!" Was it a new video game? A diamond brooch? Yearly passes to the Magic Kingdom? No. Meet Pipe Buddy. This is proof that the toddler-age preference for the box the toy came in never goes away, it just morphs into a love of trash. While I'm hoping that she'll always appreciate the small stuff -- I'm also hoping that she'll demand a little more than pipe cuttings from the men in her future.

For Zilla, the Rainforest Cafe Update

Just for fun, we drove from Tampa to Orlando yesterday to watch a friend of mine perform in the Orlando Fringe Festival. Gabi is awesome and totally brave to mount a one-woman show. And we were brave to bring a seven-year-old to a performance that did not involve singing animals or snakes. As a bribe, we told Girlie that if she was super quiet and didn't say anything during the show, even in her very best quiet library voice, we would take her to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner. There are two Rainforest Cafes in Orlando - both are on Disney property. We went to the one at the Disney Marketplace, right next door to drunken Disney (oops, I mean Pleasure Island). We arrived at 5:20 p.m., waited in line to sign up and were told that it would be an hour and fifteen minutes or maybe an hour and a half. We totally expected to wait that long. It was a holiday weekend and all that. But a bribe's a bribe and they don't ever work again if you don't pay up. Our return time to get seated was 7:10 p.m. Have you ever been to a Disney park? If you've ever waited in line for a ride, you know that they trick you by having you get to what looks like the front of the line only to find out you are just last in line in a different waiting area. And so on, and so on. It's much the same at the Rainforest Cafe. At 7:00 we'd been wandering all around the BIG merchandise area for a long time and were getting mighty hungry. "We're here," we told the guy back at the purple elephant where they let you into the restaurant. "Super," he said. "But you're not even close," he said. Sniff, sniff. Girlie started chanting, "LET US EAT, LET US EAT." They must get that a lot because he was totally unphased. Finally, at about 7:30, we checked in again and they told us to proceed to the Gorilla Room. Right. They really meant the Gorilla Room LINE. Where we waited for another 20 minutes. Then, en masse, they had a bunch of us proceed to the Gorilla Room entrance where we waited in line AGAIN. I was ready to chew the leather off my purse. Finally we were seated, we ordered, and we waited. And waited. I tried to get my Hubby to distract a waiter carrying food so that I could trip him and scrounge off the floor but Hubby didn't bite. When we left the restaurant (we had skipped appetizers and dessert), our bribe payoff had taken FOUR HOURS. FOUR HOURS for a salad that would feed Darfur and its neighboring countries, three little hot dogs for Girlie and a stir fry for Hubby. Was the food tasty? Yes. Was it neato when they had a fake thunderstorm? Yes. Will I ever go back, even if somebody offers ME a bribe? No.