A recent study has shown an increase in mother’s who drink and drive. It turns out a lot of these women, many of them stay at home mom’s, have been having a few afternoon tipples and then going to pick up the kids from school, practice, and what not. This is obviously a concern and researchers are trying to figure out the cause.

I for one already have the answer. “Sex in the City”. These impressionable mothers are watching the antics of these urban vixens and longing for that type of lifestyle. They see the constant stream of cocktail lunches and think “Why isn’t that me? It could be me. I’d be cool if I drink.” and off they go to their friends house to have a martini or two.

It’s time for us to stand up and take notice. We have to get this type of smut off of the airwaves and out of the cinemas. We can’t leave our mom’s unprotected. Next thing you know they’ll want to buy designer clothes and really large sunglasses. It’s disgusting that we haven’t been watching our mothers closer and have been letting them be influenced by the likes of Kim Cattrall and Sarah Jessica Parker. Are these actually the type of role models we want for our mothers?

Where have the Donna Reid’s, June Clever’s and Mrs. Brady’s gone? Maybe a tv rating system can be put in place. NSM-Not Suitable for Mother’s. That’s the answer. After all, who’s going to protect you better than the censors?

We’ve all done it. We don’t mean to, or maybe we do, sometimes we just can’t help it. When we’re out and about, be it at a restaurant, at a bus stop, or on the bus, or even walking down the street with your husband on a Saturday afternoon in the Strip District. You can’t help but overhear snippets of conversation.

Some may call it eavesdropping. Personally, I think that’s a bit harsh. After all, you’re not trying to listen in to the conversation. At least not at first. But when you’re just cruising by and it falls into your ears, what are you to do?

Just a few weeks ago I heard a gem of a conversation. It feel into my unwitting auditory senses like a bit of manna from Heaven (okay, I’m exaggerating, but work with me here). As we walked by an outdoor bar area, there were two gentlemen engaged in a conversation. What they were talking about I do not know, how it ended I can only imagine. I just know that as I passed one gentlemen said to the other “All’s I know is this, Jimmy da Carrot was coming.”

Part of me wanted to turn around and find out just who ‘Jimmy da Carrot’ the was. Was he real? Was he imaginary? Is he a redheaded mafia boss. There seems to be a lot more of those around here (red heads not mafia bosses). The hamster was running overtime in it’s wheel. But I decided it was best to just let who Jimmy was go and keep moving on. After all, I don’t want a dirt nap with da Carrot.

Last week I had the opportunity to see Eddie Izzard live at the Benedum.  Had a brilliant time. It was the first time I have ever been to a comedy show like this and it was amazing.  Having Rob there next to me, both of us dressed up for a night out. Dream come true I tell you.

Eddie covered everything from the Bible to giraffes in the span of two and half hours.  His comic genius is something to behold. He did have a bit of a slow start but it appears that he forgot a prop and it threw him a bit.

All I can say is I learned many things while I was there. One of them being:

Shirley Temple is a SPARTAN!

After nearly a decade of working with children I have been asked some pretty weird questions.  Ranging from queries about jell-o to if I had consummated my marriage (from a  student who had no clue what consummate means).

But the other day I had probably the weirdest question I have ever had. At least in my opinion. While I was in the middle of a lesson with two five year olds one of them looked at my face very intently, scrunched up her face and with a bit of an edge asked “Why are you wearing eye shadow?”.  Not expecting this question, for a number of reasons and a flurry of my own zooming through my head I simply looked back at her and calmly said “Because I wear it everyday.”  This reply seemed to satisfy her curiosity and  we moved on with the lesson.  But I still have questions of my own.

Our new, old home that we moved into over the Christmas holiday has pretty much taken shape. There are a few bare walls that will be covered soon, but overall the home is as it should be. On the inside.

Our back garden/yard is in need of a lot of TLC. After (what I would presume) years if not decades of neglect we began our true loves labor on it. After many hours of digging, tilling, mulching there are now some lovely plants and two trees in new homes. But we are far from done. We still have a path to build, another patio area, a patio area to clean off and reseal, a bench to build, bushes to plant, a possible pond to install and much more.

I figure by the end of the summer it should look more like a garden and less like a prison yard. At least it will be nicer tomorrow with our new patio furniture and small grill that we can barbeque for Memorial Day.

One weird thing though is when I was pick axing the ground to dig an area to plant the English Ivy. I found the usual slate and brick that comes along with a Victorian home that was dumped into the basement and covered up to make a lot stuff, but I stumbled across an old joystick from an arcade in the 80s. Not the typical thing you would expect to find in a Victorian garbage pile. Hmmmm….

(Pictures coming soon)

This is more a of a thing that irritates me. When I was shopping today I needed to get Bisquick. It’s the mix I like. For some reason the store doesn’t shelf the Bisquick with the other pancake mixes. Not the Aunt Jemima, Pillsbury, or even the generic brand. Is this some form of pancake racism I don’t know about? What could be the possible reason of putting all the other pancake mixes and syrup together and then putting the Bisquick five aisles away with cereal? This shouldn’t be.