I have a blogging friend who sometimes thinks in bullets.
I sometimes think in bullets too, but I think my bullets are different than hers. Remember my bad hair day when I had to get my passport picture taken?
Anyway.
This time of year I get cagey. It’s cold in Kansas and it’s easy for me to start thinking weird thoughts if I don’t have a few hundred projects. So to keep myself in check, Ben and I organized our walk-in closet. (I smashed my finger during demolition and Ben had to do most of the work without me.) Then I painted an accent wall in my living room. Pictures to follow. Someday. Now I’m sewing more curtains to hang near the new orange brick color. Even more curtains will follow when I move to update our mud room. Porch actually. I live in an old crooked farmhouse where everything is reliably a half bubble off ‘a plumb and ain’t nobody ever heared of a mud room, so it’s a porch….
…about those bullets…
I think my sewing habit is fixin’ to get to me, cause this is what my world looks like through the eye of a needle…
*so glad this camera has a micro function and my readers can’t see all the dishes I haven’t done
*what happened to the make your house over in one day, days
*since when did Khaki come in more than one color
*why does Ben’s stash of chocolate taste better than mine
*why did I just hide the wrapper under everything in the trash when I’ll tell him what I’ve done later anyway
*if I start now…could I be a black belt by morning
*sphnicker sphnicker
*is that the litter box I smell or the my new favorite perfume
*why do I have to dust my sewing machine’s parts along with everything else in this place
*how long has that spider’s web been there
*do these yoga pants make me look fat
*what is it about grandkids that make grandparents try arm-farts before they get into the shower
Praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition.
What do your bullets look like?
Simply,
Sis
Tags: bullet thoughts, funny, silliness, Sis's Secrets, thought bullets
(Thanks to BlogHer Pic App for another niffty photo!)
I can’t believe it’s been a year since this strange blog about simple living opened it’s doors. What I really can’t believe is how many people read it. I also can’t believe the people who read it are pretty darn cool and aren’t nearly as nerdy as me. They live anywhere from across the creek to across the big pond and are wonderful each in their own way. I’ve never had so much fun expressing myself or meeting so many. So, thank you for reading!!!
It’s always interesting to compare my favorite posts to yours. What I think is just bang your head awesome and what you think is are certainly two different things. I have a lot to learn about blogging, but then…it will be a while before I’m potty trained by the looks of the lone candle on the cake.
This was the most read post ever “One Money Saving Must“. It’s about the different uses for vinegar. It was supposed to be a fill-in post, but has been read by thousands. If all my post were read this much, Ben could quit his job and play his banjo full time. But, alas…that won’t happen this year.
This was the hardest post I wrote last year and the one of the most read. It is about the night we lost one of my brothers. I’m glad it has brought hope to so many.
Some of my favorite posts are…
Sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty.
and as much as i hate her…anything by SINthia.
One of the most popular phrases used when finding this blog is g-string. I’m sure my mama is proud. Of course it’s not my fault, it’s my damn-it evil twin, SINthia, who says what I’m thinking aloud. Grrrrr. Her posts are always well read and cause me grief when I leave the house.
Other popular phrases are pickled peppers (a great recipe, by the way), Yates banjos (our newest child) and braiding onions (something fun I tried this year).
So here we are over a million hits later, still living simply and a debt free life. Thanks for coming with me on my journey and sharing yours with me along the way.
Simply,
Sandhill Sis
and
SINthia
Tags: happy birthday reclaim simplicity, reclaim simplicity, reclaim simplicity turns one
It’s funny how no matter how much time passes, we are what we are. Things change. People don’t.
(Thanks to BlogHer Pic Apps for this funny pic of a guy that is bored with the woman who is sniffing. I love it.)
Take me for example. When I was shopping for perfume at 14 (under pressure to leave I might add) I chose Pearls and Lace based solely on the name. Miles down the road I started to cry and beg Mom to please make my brother turn around and let me take the perfume back ‘because I hate it, whaaaa.’ Mom had to lean on Jay, one of my older brothers, to turn around and take me back to Kmart. Finally he did. I ran in with a tear-streaked face and return it for a full refund.
My brother who was extremely funny and had the wonderful yet uncanny ability to peg people spot-on, make a quip about their pitiful downfall and surf out on the waves of laughter that usually followed. Well my friends, this day was no different and this sister was a walk in the park for his talent. After riding in the uncomfortable silence he finally quipped, “The Dr. Ruth of the perfume counter, that’s what she is.”
My mom howled. She has a beautiful musical laugh, but that day it didn’t seem so sunny. She laughed, tried to suck it up to save my feelings, then laughed some more. She may have even peed herself a little… I don’t know. I didn’t know who Dr. Ruth was or what she had to do with perfume. So I asked. Mom said she was a sex therapist. I asked what a sex therapist had to do with perfume.
Jay said, “She doesn’t know shite about sex just like you don’t know shite about buying perfume…”
That was below the belt and way too much for this girl’s fragile teenage hormones. But dead on, none the less. I still haven’t forgiven him.
Twenty years later, perfume is still a demon to me. It’s somthing I think I need because I sorely lack most things that seem lady-like, except curves, but I just can’t seem to get. And this is the year I want to get some for Valentines Day, some that makes Ben go DONG! As my friend discribes it ‘catnip for your mate’. I mean I want something that will make him jump back and kiss himself. Make him bang his head on the ground… ’cause I’m darn sure not going through the homemade G-string thing again. I tell ya that much.
With that in mind I went off in search for cat nip. I brought home no less than seven perfume papers for Ben and I to sniff. When Ben got home for supper we commenced to sniffin’. We did open-eyed sniffs, close-eyed sniffs, blind sniffs, double-blind sniffs and in the end we had decided I was still the Dr. Ruth of the perfume counter and maybe we would be better off putting them around the house like possible paint swatches to be sniffed in different lights and moods. Like a bad test at the doctors office, in a week we should know something.
In the mean time there are quite a few parallels in perfume and alcohol. I must be a perfume lightweight, after two sniffs I’m drunk and they all smell the same. The remedy is simple: drink Sex on the Beach and wear Very Sexy Dare, with names like that they’ve gotta be good.
What do you wear? What is catnip to your soul?
Do share, I need a bone here.
Simply,
Sis
Tags: dr ruth of the perfume counter, mates, perfume, sex, sex on the beach, turn ons, valentines day, very sexy
This is what Santa brought me this year.
Hot dang I am so excited! I’ve always wanted one, but never knew their history or how to say their name. In fact, I just left tripod spice grinder thingy on my list to Santa. The kids were doubtful old Saint Nick baby would come through. Well step back nonbelievers, cause Santa delivered.
Three-toes, my new molcajete (mol-ka-HE-teh), is hand carved out of lava and was really rough when I got him. Yes, it is a he. I checked. Like my guns, I name my kitchen gadgets too. I wouldn’t hold a woman that way. Moving on.
Molcajetes means stone sauce bowl. According to Aztec lore, the three legs is thought to pay homage to the god of the hearth, Huehueteotl, who is associated with the number three. Who knew.
To season the three-legged beast you can take the pear-shaped grinder thingy called ajolote (ah-ho-LO-teh) and grind rice or corn. What this does is basically sands the inside of the bowl to make it a little “smooth”. (This is where we have a break down in communication, as it depends greatly what your definition of smooth is). Anyway I ground like a bored Aztec woman, whose kids had left the nest or cave, whichever. For days I ground, rinsed and repeated.
Here’s the rice before.
And after.
On the third day Ben said, what you need is a wire brush on a drill. (A great idea really.) But I glared at him at explained I didn’t want to miff the god of the hearth, besides I’m a traditionalist. A traditionalist until I start getting blisters, that is. Then I ran out and bought a whole set of wire brushes and commenced to scrubbing. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there.
There are a lot of imitations out there for real live molcajetes. If you want to order a real one, you can go to Melissa Guerra or if you want to read another post about them check out The Homesick Texan’s post here. Great stuff.
Knuckles and brushes be damned, I think I’m almost there. While cast iron is easier to season, it was kind of a earthly fun project. Like cast iron in Mexican kitchens you pass your molcajete down through the family. I will be putting this in my will as some sick joke to my kids after Mommy is long gone. *sphnicker sphnicker* If nothing else I’ll be remembered for my twisted sense of humor.
What do you think? Do you think my saucy new rice griding past time is cool or just plain weird?
Simply,
Sis
Tags: ajolote, authentic molcajete, bowl and pestle, homesick texan, how to season a molcajete, lava sauce bowl, Melissa Guerra, mexician spice grinder, molcajete, Simple Eats
