Pickles & Dimes

Should we get the dog his own bed so he stops stuffing himself (complete with hilarious, exasperated huffs and grunts) into the cat bed? Or just keep laughing uproariously at him?

I think either way is win-win.

Christmas conversation

Aunt: Let’s see. We ate all kinds of food growing up. Bullheads, catfish…

Other aunt: Turtle.

Mom: Yes – turtle! Turtle soup.

Aunt: Did we eat snake?

Other aunt: Yep, we had snake. Muskrat, too.

Everyone else at the table: MUSKRAT?!!!??

Aunt: And squirrel.

Me, still thinking about the muskrat: How do you prepare one of those?

Aunt: A squirrel? Oh, just like a muskrat.

Last night it snowed again. Two-hour commute, more shoveling, blah blah blah Minnesota living. This morning Jason got up at 4:50 and I told him to wake me if the plow had gone by so we could dig him out. It hadn’t, so we both had ample time to blearily go through our morning routine. He left for work, grinding his way through our unplowed street as I started to get ready.

As I took the dog outside, I saw a plow go by on the cross street, the resulting snow wall completely blocking my exit from that side. “Hurry up, buddy!” I urged Shorty, knowing I had only a few minutes before the plow made it onto our street and blocked the driveway. We came back inside and I hurriedly did a Pet Check to make sure no one had gotten locked in a closet or bathroom (both of which have happened before) and rushed outside to my car. The coast was clear.

I backed out of the driveway, conducted my daily OCD conversation with myself (“The garage door is down. Down. Down. Yep, it’s down”) and started to head down the road. Suddenly, I was blinded by giant, bright headlights.

The plow.

I braked. We stood staring at each for a few moments, neither of us moving. The plow was on the other cross street, blocking traffic, so it moved toward me. I was halfway down – with nowhere to go. I couldn’t back down the street and go around the block because it was already blocked. I couldn’t back up into our driveway because naturally, NATURALLY, the plow was on our side, and was going to send the plowed snow wall onto our driveway. I’d have to spend 30 minutes shoveling to clear it out because there was no way my car would make it over.

I finally inched over as far as I could to the other side of the road. The plow didn’t move. Neither did I. (Where could I go?) Finally, it got over as far as it could on the other side and barreled by me. If my window would’ve been open, I could’ve touched it.

After it passed, I stepped on the gas. I was stuck. OF COURSE. I had to do the whole reverse/gun-it routine a few times, but I finally got free.

I bet when I get home tonight, the ice wall blocking our driveway is going to purposely gigantic.

Jason and I decided not to get each other Christmas presents this year. Normally we either exchange gifts or buy ourselves one big gift that we want. But this year, we didn’t need or want anything, so we decided just to give each other stocking stuffers. This morning, after I stumbled out of bed and stubbed my little toe into oblivion, Jason called me downstairs. “Did you check your stocking?” he asked. I reached in mine and discovered a Post-it note that said, “Check your iTunes.” So I limped over to the computer and fired it up. “Do I check Purchased Songs then?” I asked. “Yep.” And there, as the most-recently downloaded song, was the worst song ever written in the history of musickind.

“Push th’ Little Daisies” by Ween.

My lovely husband remembered stumbling across this song a few weeks ago on one of the music channels. He remembered me exclaiming, dumbfounded, “What IS THIS? Is it a guy singing or a GIRL? Or a cartoon character with pneumonia??? It’s not even in tune! AAAHHHHHHHHHH – turn it OFF!!!”

He remembered, and as he said, “This is the best money of yours that I ever spent on you.” (The iTunes account is in my name.)

So if you want to ruin someone’s internal music catalog, I totally recommend this trainwreck. I should probably post a link or something, but honestly, I don’t want anything to do with this song ever again, so you’re on your own.