Spaghetti-zagna

It's like lasagna, only spaghetti-ish. It's delish, and it slices like a pie. Layers of yumminess and topped with cheese. Ok, the layers are topped with cheese, too. Behold!

Here's how to make it:

Make spaghetti like you normally would except don't combine the noodles and sauce.

     *footnote: Because I am awesome, I use my home made spaghetti sauce that I canned from tomatoes and peppers from my own garden that I grew myself. Suck it, Martha Stewart!

     ** Another footnote: I also combine finely diced bell pepper and onion, some extra spices (oregano, thyme, basil), and carrots. The carrots provide a crunch factor, so if you're not into that, just leave 'em out, I guess. Although it won't be as good. Or pretty.

In a glass casserole dish, layer some (drained) noodles.

Spoon sauce to completely cover noodles.

Add a fine layer of shredded cheese. I use Kraft pizza cheese. It melts well and isn't oily.

Repeat until you get to the top of your dish. Dump remainder of sauce on the top layer and cover with a good amount of cheese.

Bake at 350 for about 15 minutes then broil until cheese is golden.

Let stand for about 10 minutes. By then it should be set enough to slice like a pie. As an added bonus, it won't burn your tongue.

Let me know if you make it, and tell me how awesome I am for giving you the recipe!



My daughter, Cybill. Ummm... I mean, Maddie. Yeah. My daughter MADDIE.

She has as many personalities as she does outfits. Sometimes I wonder if she really does have multiple personalities in there. Or maybe she's possessed. Nah. She's just *my* kid. Here are a few of her costume changes. Bear in mind, she put on and took off most of these in the span of about 35 minutes. She only wears them for approximately 19 seconds and then she's off to the next one. After one of her dress-up sessions, her room looks like a teenager's who is about to go on her first date with that really cute guys that she just loves.

Introducing Princess Aurora (with some attitude). Notice the hands on hips, cheeky grin and her "darlin'" shoes.



The Betty Crocker of the Kindergartners. (again with the 'tude)



She's a Bunny. And a Cheer Leader. And a Doctor/Mad Scientist.

She is a friend to nature....

And and environmental activist (well, just dressed like a flower, really)

A mermaid (with home-made costume), a self-described Alien, and Snow White



Showing the dichotomy of her Id... A sleeping Angel vs. The Devil (who may or may not be a witch fairy)

"Because we ALL just wanna be big ROCK STARS" (courtesy of Nickelback. Now that song's in your head, isn't it? You're welcome!)

And I don't know about you, but I would love to be a Hula Girl!

And finally, her SELFIE:

(Yeah, ok. She looks a little drunk. And strange because her big girl teeth are almost all the way in. That green thing is a baby apple from a tree in Papa's yard. She likes to pick things.)


You're welcome, world. 

Aaaaaaaaaaand, The Winner Is........

Is there an award for being the best farmer? Although, not a real farmer. Maybe best gardener? But not the flower kind. Hmmm... the Perfect Planter award? Greatest Grower? Handiest Horticulturist? Awesomest Agriculturist? Whatever. Anyway... So last week I planted my garden. And then yesterday I posted an update. Well I went back over there yesterday evening to do some hoeing (with an actual hoe, not in a prostitute-y sort of way) and oh. emm. gee! It is AH-MAZING what happens in a 24 hour period! Where Tuesday I had a few sprouts emerging and Wednesday I had even more sprouts and some actual *growth*, yesterday's find was ca-razy! What? Of course I have pictures. See the complete coolness for yourselves.



I might have decided that either:

     1.) I have used fertilizer with some mutant properties, or

     2.) My seeds were imbibed with growth hormones from God Himself, or

     3.) I have planted my garden over dead things, or (and most likely)

     4.) I am the world's best freakin' planter and grower of stuff.

So, the answer is ME. I am the winner of the Best, Greatest, Awesomest Grower Of Stuff.

Now go out and vote!

**P.S. I put cages around my tomatoes. All 37 of them. And DAMN, that's hard work! Here's the finished product:



Only 24 Hours Have Elapsed

Dude. My father-in-law called on Tuesday and said I had sprouts in my garden. So of course I rushed right over to take their picture.

So yesterday I went back over there to do something ( I forget now what it was. Oh. Blow up a pool float for Maddie using his air compressor) and I went down to check on my garden. In a word? Holycrapoly. In less than 24 hours, the green beans and okra shot up! It's so cool to see everything grow. I'm sure I'll be bitching about having to weed it and water it and pick it, but right now? So. Freakin'. Cool.

24 Hours Later

Wonder what it will look like today?



My Very Brief Love Affair.... With Breakfast Food

An Open Letter to Jimmy Dean:

Dear Mr. Dean,
What. The. Hell?! I hate breakfast. I abhor it. I loathe it. Well, unless it's a weekend and I can make strawberry muffins. Or go to Cracker Barrel for pancakes. Anyway, as stated previously, I despise breakfast. Most days I just skip it altogether and snarf down an early lunch. That is, until recently. I stumbled upon you Delights Turkey Sausage and Pancake Griddlers. In a word? YUM! And, since I'm watching my fat and calorie intake, at only 8 grams of fat and 240 calories, SCORE!! I thought I had hit the mother load. One kink in my otherwise joyful find was only Target carried these delightful breakfast sandwiches. Ok, I can live with that. Even though Target is waaaay outta my way, I go there specifically to purchase my breakfast of choice. But wait, there's more. One time I went to Target for my b'fast nosh, and lo and behold, they were out. I had hope, though. There is another Target in town. Granted, it is even further out of my way. But I must have these Griddlers. They must be mine. Luckily the other Target had some. I always buy 2 boxes at a time, but that is only 8 sandwiches. Which, if you are keeping score, is less than 2 weeks. *Side note: I only eat them on work days. They are too high of a commodity to waste on weekends.*   So, another couple of weeks pass. Back to the closer Target. No luck. What's this?? They no longer have the little tag on the shelf. OMG... I think this means they no longer carry them! Okay, okay. I'm okay. Don't panic. We'll just go to the farther Target. No, no, no, NO! They don't have the little tag thingy either!! Wait! Maybe an actual grocery store will have them. Bi Lo? Nope. Publix? Nada. Food Lion? Yeah, right. I have even scoured the frozen section in stores like Walgreens, Rite Aid, and gas stations. So, again, I ask: What. The. Hell?! You put out this aweseomely delicious, low fat/calorie sandwich of yumminess then just take it away?! You have crushed my renewed interest in breakfast, Mr. Dean. The repercussions of which you have no idea how big and far-reaching. Shame on you.

Most Disappointed,
Tabitha Crow (former consumer of JD products)

Zombies, Lepre-trolls and Snoopy-cabras

There are all kinds of magical creatures. Some are awesome, like vampires and fairies. Some are not so awesome, like werewolves and zombies. There are some, though, that it really depends on what mood they are in whether they are awesome or not. For example, Death. I don't mean hooded-scary-dude-with-a-sharp-ass-scythe-breathing-Dementor-breath-down-your-neck Death. I mean "Meet Joe Black" Death. Or Sprites. They are deceptively cute but play terrible pranks.

Or Lepretrolls. What are Lepretrolls, you ask? Well, they are the happy-ish things that live under my bed. Ordinarily they are quiet, unobtrusive tiny trolls that don't bother anyone. They are content to spend their days hording mismatched socks and the ONE stuffed animal my kid just NEEDS but can't find. Chances are, if you are missing things you have Lepretrolls, too.

Anyway, they generally keep to themselves and don't make a nuisance of themselves. Until nighttime. Then, by golly, you'd better watch out. You can't leave anything hanging over the side of the bed or they. will. bite. you. Be it hand, foot, or head. When the lights go out and the house gets quiet, that's when they get ready to spring into action.

Ok. So, the CDC, the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, has an emergency preparedness kit that they think we all need. Let me preface this by saying this is the same CDC that is government funded. So basically, our tax dollars at work, people. What kind of kit, you may be asking? Well, I'm here to tell you.... It's a freaking ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE KIT. From the CDC! Really??!! Don't believe me? Well, naysayers, follow this link.

They say if you are prepared for when (not if) zombies attack you will be prepared for tornadoes, hurricanes, etc. And I totally get that. But zombies? Really?? The freaking IRS is being investigated and yet the government still has time *and resources* to put together zombie survival kits? Am I the only one that sees something very, very wrong with this?

*Side note: I have a terrible time sleeping when the husband is out of town. A couple of weeks ago I had awful zombie nightmares. (I know, it couldn't possibly have anything to do with watching a Walking Dead marathon. And a Resident Evil marathon.) Anyway, in our bedroom we have attic access above a built in bookshelf. So, I put together a "go" bag for me, the hubs and the kid. It just has a change of clothes, toothbrushes, flashlight, a couple of bottles of water and a Big Frickin' Knife. And I've already decided that Oscar (my cute little doggy) would probably bark and give away our location so I will have to kill him before we climb up and hide. I guess breaking his neck would be the quickest and most humane way.

Ummm..... okay. Reading this now, I believe I *may* have put a little too much thought into this whole thing. But then again, I probably won't get eaten by zombies, either.

As for Snoopy-cabras, you can check out the story here.

In The Garden

So yesterday I spent 4 hot, sweaty, buggy, backbreaking hours planting my garden. I don't have the space at my house, but luckily for me my in-laws live a mile away and have several acres. My father-in-law has always gardened and last year he taught me how. This year he says (yeah, right) that he is just gonna sit on the sidelines and let me do it all by myself. Yeahhhhh.... That didn't even last like 5 whole minutes. Don't get me wrong, I totally ADORE my in-laws. In some ways they are awesome-er than my own parents. FIL and I bump heads because we are so much alike (totally NOT stubborn or opionated!). Anyway, he and the husband plowed and tilled it and I, for the most part, planted it. Here's what I (we) planted:

Green Beans
Cucumbers
Butternut Squash
Squash
Zucchini
Peppers (Bell, Jalapeno, and Banana)
Tomatoes (like 40 friggin' plants!!)
Okra
Potatoes
Canteloupe
Watermelon
Onion (Yellow and White)
Corn (Yellow and Hybrid)

Now, go back a couple of weeks. In preparation for gardening time, I have been laying in the tanning bed for a few minutes a couple of times a week to get a base tan (because usually, I'm pastier than a vampire Casper). I have been prepping my pasty skin for its coming-out-of-hibernation. Yesterday, I was all cocky.
"Ohhh. Look at me! I'm all brown now. I won't burn. Pfffftt... Who needs sunscreen?" The answer? Ummm, I do. Even though I had my brown on I got. freakin'. roasted! My back and shoulders look like I let Maddie color on me with fuschia marker. Worst part? I was wearing a criss-cross bathing suit top so now I have this huge-ass white *X* on my back.

Yeahhh.... I'm rockin' that brown now, baby!

*P.S. Pictures of said garden to come


***Update: 5/23/13

Help! I've fallen... AND dropped my grapes!

You know that Life Alert commercial with the older lady rinsing something in the kitchen? Well, she falls and lays in the floor for like 6 hours until her equally as old neighbor comes to the rescue.

So, to set the scene: The TV is on but it's really just background noise. Maddie is playing in the floor at my feet while I am doing a crossword puzzle. The commercial comes on then goes off. I didn't think anything about it. It's been on dozens of times before. Maddie gets up to retrieve something from her room. She pauses in the doorway, turns to me and says, "Mommy? Know what? I feel sorry for those grapes. Because you KNOW how much I loooove grapes!" And then she flounces off. Ok, ummm. WHAT? It took me a minute, but I finally got it. Whatever the lady was rinsing fell and scattered when she fell. Maddie thought they looked like grapes, apparently. So, my mini-me, completely lacking in empathy, felt sorry for. the. GRAPES. The lady? Ah, she'd be okay. But the grapes?? Now THAT was a waste! They just had to lay there on the floor when they couldv'e been being eaten!!

God that kid cracks me up!

Texts to Terry

Below are some of Terry's favorite texts he has gotten from me. They are mostly out of the blue, with no conversation about any of them. Enjoy!


Hey, do you have any brass knuckles?

Oscar (my dog) snores like a lumberjack. He's a lumberjackrussel! HA! I crack me up! (He's part Jack Russel Terrier)

I think llamas would look funny wearing glasses.

Did you get dead??

Dude. Seriously! Are you dead??

Rarrrrrrr!

I think I just saw Dave Hester (from Storage Wars). Might have just been a guy with glasses in a YUUUUUUP hat. Or maybe just a black hat. Could've been a chick...

Will you ask Siri when Gangster Squad comes out on DVD? (He replied that she didn't know) Well, she's a dumb bitch. Will you tell Siri she's a dumb bitch?

Our freakin' DVD player is possessed by a swarm of pissed off bees!

That massage table (HydroMassage, at the gym) almost gave me an orgasm. It's like a million heated tiny furious fists pounding me in all the good spots!

Ummmm.... Maddie just yelled, from her bedroom, "Clean up on aisle 8!".

Right now, I would give, ahem *someone's* left ball for a cupcake.

"God promised man that good and obedient wives would be found in all corners of the world. Then He made the earth round and just laughed and laughed."

Insomnia threw a party at my last night. Invited were Black Lung, Snot McMucas, Head Ache, Throat Onfire, Sinus Pressure & the mucinex guys.

Insomnia is my houseguest. Again. AND, it has serious "teenage girl" attitude. I said welcome back. It rolled its eyes and said "whatevs".

I can't sleep. But in my neuroses, I am worried about whether I am disturbing Oscar (my dog) who is currently under the covers at my feet. Snoring.

I'm fairly certain my head is trying to murder me. My head can be such. an. asshole.

You know when you wake up to the sound of a bear trying to get in your house but then realize it's the dog snoring? Exactly.

Me (in the middle of the night): I just heard a noise
Him: What did it sound like?
Me: A scream.
Him: Did Maddie scream?
Me: No...
Him: Was it Oscar howling in his sleep?
Me: No.....
Him: Were you dreaming?
Me: Maybe..... It was probably the *Snoopy-cabra that lives in the woods.
Him: Yes, honey. I'm sure that's what it was. The Snoopy-cabra.
Him: It could've been a bobcat.
Me: WTF??? We HAVE those?????
*Backstory on Snoopy-cabra: On another night I heard something outside our bedroom window. It sounded just like I imagine a Chupacabra would sound if it was being attacked by aliens and eaten by a sasquatch. After waking Terry up to investigate the noise, he bravely goes outside with a flashlight and a BB gun. In his underwear. He comes back in and says it was a dog. A frickin' BEAGLE was making that noise. I didn't know what a Beagle was so he said, "Ya know. Like Snoopy." Yes. Yes I am a dumbass.

Welcome to my blog!

Hello, world. After months of scouring the internet for funny and interesting blogs to read I decided to have my own. Even if no one reads this, I will be able to chronicle all the boring/funny/weird stuff that makes up my life. I thought I would do a brief background for my first post but then I thought, "Nah. Who wants to read that? If *I* don't want to, no one else will either." So, for my first post I thought I would tell you about a conversation I had with my 6 year old daughter the other day.

Maddie: Mommy, today on the playground me and my friends were playing in the dirt.

Me: (Silent, but I'm cringing internally. She definitely did NOT get my aversion to all things gross)

Maddie: We were pretending it was pixie dust. Then, "Brayden" and "Paul" came over and messed it all up! The kicked our dirt!!

Me: (trying to look reasonably shocked) Well, was it an accident?

Maddie: NO! They did it on purpose! And THEN they called us a...a.... POOPYHEAD! Then they ran off laughing.

Now at this point, her little face has fallen and she is verging on distraught. I'm wracking my brain to come up with an appropriate response. I mean, after all, it's just dirt... I mean "pixie dust".

I suddenly think of that movie "He's Just Not That Into You". You know, the opening scene where the little girl is on the playground and the little boy pulls her hair or pushes her down or something. She runs over crying to her mom to tell her all about it. Then the mother says, "Oh, honey. Don't you know what that means? That means he LIKES you!", and kisses her boo boos and sends her on her way.

Ummmm..... what?? So that scene is playing in my head. Yes, it probably DOES mean the little boys like my daughter and her friends (because, HELLO! She. Is. Awesome!) but do I really want to start her off thinking she needs to be treated like crap by boys to be shown love? HELL NO!

The scene plays out in my mind: Maddie, 20 years from now, engaged or married to the biggest douche canoe out there. He treats her like a servant and may or may not be physically abusive. He talks down to her, makes her feel "less than", and controls every thought in her head. Worse, she's okay with it because I didn't tell her when she was 6 that if someone is mean or degrading to you they don't deserve to be in your life.

So, for the 7 seconds it took me to get from the playground to saving my future daughter from an abusive marraige, I did the only reasonable thing.

Me: You want Mommy to kill them?