Maybe Xeriscaping Isn't As Ugly As It Really Is

I am not big into gardening (i.e., I do not garden). This is due, in part, to the fact that it is very difficult to grow anything in this dry mountain climate and the fact that the previous owners put down that weed-be-gone tarp over everything.

Here is what I know about that weed-be-gone tarp: (1) It is the perfect environment in which to grow weeds, and (2) It is a pain in the ass to cut through if you want to plant anything.

Because our house is in an area where there is a certain obligation to keep a nice lush garden, and my husband correctly assumed that said nice lush garden was not going to come from me, he hired a landscape guy.

Now my cutesy gingerbread type house is xeriscaped with desert grasses and plants typically found in movie scenes where mobsters have driven people out to the desert to dig their own graves.

Now that I am not practicing law, I have decided to tackle the yard. Fifteen minutes every day. You can do anything for fifteen minutes, right? The yard is starting to looking spiffy all weeded and I am getting inspired. One by one, fifteen minutes at a time, I will dig up the desert plants in our yard and plant real stuff. Oh yes I will.

Until yesterday when I was out doing my fifteen minutes of time and two MICE ran in front of my feet. I honestly thought it was going to be spider or a snake that would end up doing me in. I never expected the mice. So that's it. I'm done. No more gardening ever. We are the ones with the gingerbread house with the cactus landscaping.

Light and Love, Friggin' Light and Love

My husband and I saw Eat Pray Love yesterday. Just like the book, it was both annoying and inspiring. And while I generally don't like adults who pout, Julia Roberts was a good choice for the part.

My husband, who generally likes chick films, had a hard time coming up with much to say about it.

We were both hoping for more scenery of Italy, India and Indonesia, and were disappointed that so much of it seemed like a set rather than location shots. However, this is why I am glad I saw it . . .

For the past two evenings, shortly before signing off to bed, I have received frustrating emails from a lady who I have tried to befriend. I have been warm and welcoming, and have gone out of my way to make sure she is okay. In return, she has taken advantage of me.

Last night, after opening her email and getting angry, I tried to watch a movie. I tried to start a new book. I finished off my glass of wine. I snipped at my husband. Nothing worked to bring me down. I decided to just focus on sitting and breathing. Then I remembered a scene from the movie, which is also one of my favorite parts of the book. When confronted with thoughts of someone she is not at peace with, the main character decides to send light and love out through the universe to that person whenever she thinks of him.

So that's what I decided to do. I just sat there and used all my energy to send this person light and love. There must be something going on in her life for her to be acting this way. However, because sitting on my couch sending out light and love into the universe seemed a little new agey for me, I had to add the "friggin'" because that's what works for me.

"Here's some friggin' light and love lady. Friggin' light and love to you. Friggin' light and love to you." I had to make it mine, but I did focus on the light and love. And I really did start to feel better.

Worst Spellar Award, Fourth Grade is a Cruel Place

Thanks to Juliet who spelled Velveeta correctly in one of her comments to me. I do try to catch that kind of stuff. You have no idea how much time I spent trying to figure out if it was actually Schwetty Balls or Schweddy Balls. But I glossed right over that Velvetta thing.

Here is where I have a confession to make . . .
And also a story about how very cruel teachers can be . . .

I was always out in the first round of the spelling bees in middle school. This one particular day I made it through the first round, then the second, then the third. In fact, I made it all the way to the final round where it was between just me and one other kid. And I won! For the love of God I won the spelling bee. Then the other kid pointed out that it was April Fools Day and didn't I realize it was all a big joke. I had no idea.

After I got over the thrill of winning a trophy (my first trophy ever!), I was pissed off at everyone and especially the teachers for the laugh at my expense.

I've been scarred for life over that.

WT Fudge Update

Only two (2) dos people tried the Peanut Butter Velveeta Fudge at book club.

Seriously. How can you not want to try that?

Today I am making Schwetty Balls for a BBQ. We'll see if they go over a bit better. I am making Salted Caramel Schwetty Balls and White Chocolate Schwetty Balls. I will try to resist actually calling them that when I had them over to the host, but knowing me . . .

Later Saturday: Cake balls were a disaster. Allrecipes fail.

Even Later Saturday: Everybody loved the cake balls! Someone at the BBQ told me that cake balls are the new cupcake. (We in Colorado are often late to the fads.) I googled cake ball images and there are so many cute things you can do with them. Yipee for cake balls!

WT Peanut Butter Velveeta Fudge

I just watched Community for the first time, and it was kind of cute. John Oliver is one of my favorite comedians. At the same time, Chevy Chase has fallen a long way, no?

Tomorrow is my first book club. I haven't read the book, but from what I understand there is actually no book discussion at book club; rather, much like bunco from the start of this decade, it's just an excuse for suburban women to drink.

A little while ago I came across a post on Pages, Pucks and Pantry for peanut butter fudge made with Velvetta. I have wanted to try it forever, and book club without books sounded like a perfect opportunity. Paula Deen originated the recipe. Accordingly, it comes as no surprise that the final step in the recipe is to blot the fudge with a paper towel to syphon off some of the excess butter.

I tried a little square myself tonight, and it is fine. Not like fine okay, but fine like a fine wine. I dubbed it White Trash Fudge. What? It's made with Velveeta and two sticks of butter.

Do You Know What's Expensive?

We are so brilliant! We decided to put the franchise in a mall. We'll get all the customers that come to us as a specific destination, and also all the people passing by that didn't know they wanted our product. Yay! Also, no cost for putting in restrooms or furniture. Why doesn't everybody do this? It's so clever.

Oh, this is why - Mall space is RIDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE. And do you know what they say when you tell them that they are being ridiculous and that you will just go get a better deal at a different mall? They say, "Fine. There's five potential tenants lined up behind you. And good luck getting a spot as primo as the one we are offering you."

Then, after you get over the sticker shock for the price per square foot, you add on common area maintenance (tens of thousands), property taxes and promotional fees. Then you convince your child that they really do want to become an artist rather than go to university.

Of course, we knew that the mall space was going to be expensive, so we researched and asked questions and put the high end of our findings into the business plan. The landlord just game in well over what we had budgeted. And this mall doesn't even have a Kate Spade.

But there is a Nordstrom. Being from Dallas, I have been inclined to call Neiman Marcus the mother ship. With my new found love for Seattle, however, Nordstrom now holds that title. Plus, as far as department stores go, its just better. Where was I? Oh yea - mall space. Expensive.

The Difference is Passion

I am currently reading The Difference. It's by Jean Chatzky. I really like her. She's the money expert person on the Today Show (or, at least, she was at one time the money expert person on the Today Show. Now I watch VH1 Classic in the morning in the hopes of catching some Steve Perry.) She's all smart like about money things, but it seems like she could be one of your best friends. But not one of my best friends. They will complain to your face about not having any money while sitting at the spa and ordering furniture from the Horchow catalogue. This is, of course, why I love them.

I expected something different from Jean. The Difference reminds me of The Secret. There are also some grammatical and content errors that surprise me. I'm not saying I don't make them here. I know I do. But I'm not holding myself out as Jean Chatzky.

Having been to high school in Austria, I still sometimes think and spell like I am writing in German. Aber, Ja.

Anyway, Jean says that you have to find your passion, and that the riches will follow. Or something to that effect (I couldn't bring myself to finish the book). I have things I am good at, like picking the perfect off-white wall color and cooking shrimp, but those aren't passions.

I DON'T HAVE A PASSION! Do you have a passion? I want a passion.