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January 19, 2007 by Jenny Hartin 2 Comments

So much for snow….there wasn’t enough to make one good sized snow ball and here I was thinking this morning – I better get to the shed to get out the shovel before it gets too deep out there.

Andrew (the 2 and a 1/2 year old which I shouldn’t have to clarify because if my 22 year old did these things we’d be on Jerry Springer sooner than I anticipate) likes to lightly pinch me, wants me to make a face, then he says…”Mommy sad. Mommy got a boo boo. It’s okay Mommy. I make you happy.” Then he hugs me. He does this 46 times a day, every day.

I made chicken pot pie with a cornbread crust (yes, honey, I got the little baby peas – just in case my husband is reading this) and a beef roast and mashed potatoes. I have to hide both until dinner time or the 22 year old will eat them both. He’s like a bear — sometimes we have to tie Andrew up high in a tree so he won’t try to eat him too. I usually don’t make two separate meals for dinner but my wonderful, handsome husband asked for chicken pot pie this week and he is sick and I want to do anything I can to make him feel better and I had to cook the roast today. Okay, now I can send him the link to this blog.

http://thecookbookjunkies.com/286/

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Second Rant

January 19, 2007 by Jenny Hartin 1 Comment

Well after a restful night of approximately forty five minutes sleep due to Darth Vader “breathing” next to me, I awaken to clarity and wondered what the hell did I do last night? It must have been all those drugs I took in the 80’s – you know, Midol on an empty stomach, followed by a Menthol cigarette and a couple of Contac that lured me into the blogging world.

It’s snowing in New York! I say that with excitement now but see most likely Rant entitled “Fourth” (approximately) where I moan and whine about slipping off my back deck for the 100th time because my husband stained it with Glidden’s Slip and Fall to your Death Chestnut Brown Stain. I most likely will be writing that rant from traction or prison after I strangle my loving husband (by the way I do love him).

My husband says I have PMS, DMS and PMS (pre, during and post)…actually that is my interpretation of his “is it close to being your ladies’ days?” For some reason he asks me this at least twice a week….it’s a wonder we leave enough men on this earth to keep the human race going.

Well, today is Curious George on the Roller Coaster – I can’t wait!!! I love that Monkey – not in the way that Michael Jackson or the Man in the Yellow Hat does – but in a “that is one damn cute monkey”.

Later…

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First Blog Rant

January 19, 2007 by Jenny Hartin Leave a Comment

What have I done? I’ve started a Blog (sounds like something I drank which induced me to marry my first husband).

I’ve been on a mad dash to organize our house. I have a confession to make – I’m insane. I collect and collect and have to have every cookbook, baking pan, gadget, pot and utensil out there…now I’m in a self inflicted re-org. I’m going through the entire house and questioning whether it should stay or not. So far, my almost 22 year old son, is in the donate pile and my 2 1/2 year old son is in the keep if he stops biting me pile. Yes, I have two sons twenty years apart…I wanted to be well rested before I had the second child. Seriously, I have donated and gotten rid of mega stuff. I have a huge bin of things to list on e-bay. Every single time I sell something on e-bay I swear it will be the last time – so tired of getting the same stupid questions about reducing shipping, giving them the item for free or if I have any of Whitney Houston’s old gowns for sale…or something equally inane.

I can’t sleep. My husband (second and last, not to be a third) is sick and trying to breathe – I go from feeling bad for him because he is miserable to contemplating holding a pillow over his face to put him out of both of our miseries. I got out of bed finally at midnight and came in the office and for some unbeknownst reason to me (and probably to you) started a “Blog”. Pray for me.

Let’s see if I come back here for a second rant.

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