Office Work.......

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Thanks! My phone's always on.

......except for when having lunch with the dacs. Sigh.

Maybe next time we meet for lunch she'll leave it on.
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When the bun actually does come out of the oven, how will we know? We don't have a person in place to report back for us. What to do?

Maybe she can text everyone on her phone list. Wondering if she has my number.
 
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I didn't go to the turnip festival because friends did not enter the recipe contest. Instead they came up to Wellfleet and we had lunch at the Wicked Oyster. The rest of the day I spent cleaning details of my house to make it look as good as the new paintjob. Our sliding glass door tracks are now spotlessly white (thanks to wooden skewer, Lysol 4 in 1, an old toothbrush and many rags).

I am a cleaning queen!
 
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Well, I guess that's one way of looking at it. I guess once all the ripping sheering screaming pain and bodily destruction is done, a good piece of Boston cream pie makes it all worthwhile...
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This is for NellaBeans.

Kahlua Bundt Cake

Cake
1 yellow cake mix, preferably Duncan Hines
1 (6 oz) pkg of instant chocolate pudding
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup oil
4 large eggs (get some from Belle)
1/4 cup Kahlua
1/4 cup vodka
3/4 cup water

Glaze
1/4 cup Kahlua
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Preparation:
1. Butter bundt pan and preheat oven to 345 degrees
2. Combine all cake ingredients in a large bowl and pour into prepared pan, smoothing top
3. Bake about 55 minutes or until a skewer in middle comes out clean.
4. Make glaze - in small bowl, whisk together Kahlua and powdered sugar.
5. Pour glaze over warm cake and let sit. Cake is even better the next day.
6. Decorate with sprinkled powdered sugar if desired.
 
Good morning ya'll.

My arms hurt. After 150 pounds of feed, 3 bags of shavings, and cleaning the coop, I'm actually grateful it's my arms that hurt and not my back. I have been doing my back exercises, and am lifting correctly. Yay me.
But my arms ache. And hauling snare drums and cymbals from the bandroom to the stage and back to the band room yesterday was not fun.

DD played the suspended cymbal with such enthusiasm that she had to be reminded by the conductor that some of the rolls were (p). I was proud. She takes after her momma.
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Last night I dreamed I was being chased by a grey dude with a bomb. He followed me in the dream where I was hanging out with friends. In the dream where I was in a high rise, high class apartment, bomb-dude bribed the building supervisor and was LET INTO the apartment. I was on the phone with some friends from NJ, so I had to tell them to get out of town, because of bomb-dude. But somehow I got away.
Bomb dude screwed up in the next dream, and cornered me in a dark, cold, alley while it was raining. I despise being cold and wet. I was engulfed in a Beaner-style fury and kicked bomb-dude in the.... bombs. I waited a second, and since we didn't explode I kicked him in the head and ran away.

I feel like I basically ran all night.
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I woke up and the cats were pinning me to the bed. I gave them both a hug and asked why they let me have such miserable dreams. They gave me a look and went back to my feet and back to sleep. Slackers.
I hugged them more forcibly and told them how lucky they are that I don't sleep walk any more.


Now I am expected to actually work at work. Oh the agony. There is a storm on the way, and I can feel it in my sinuses. Not just the easy ones 'under' my eyes, but the ones above my eyes. My sleepy eyes that wish I could go back to bed. <sigh>
 
Lori, I'm sorry you get plagued by whacko dreams once in a while. I know what you mean. Sometimes you wake up feeling emotional horrible for no reason other than that your brain has been on psychodelic patrol all night.

I bet all the upper body work you've been doing lately would give you a few additional pushups if your wrists were to allow them. Good for you!
 
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Morning Dacs!

My argument against ponytailed men: The ponytails always are thin, scraggly and the hair never looks clean. Also, the length of ponytail is directly related to what is absent on top. Who are you kidding?

Argument against earrings on men: Jewelry is expensive, spend it on jewelry for the wifey.

Argument against tattoos:
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(they always look dirty...
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)
 
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