What I know ya'll have been waiting for....

So in light of those who have yet to have their vacations, and those that may be heading south, I warn you in venturing south of this blog.  It will just piss you off.  And that's not my intent.  I've just gotten my busy ass around to finally uploading pics from our sunshiney-burn my toes hot sandy-relaxy-backtoschoolandbirthday shopy-quickfightwithmymotherfighty-sexxxxxy  vaca.  So....


Drum roll, please.....

There it is, people.  The replacement for the pic down yonder.  Pretty sure the original was taken at least 6, maybe 7 years ago.  This one wasn't planned, either.  Believe it or not.  I was just smart enough to have a camera nearby. 

See, Maddie and B have this relaxation technique that only some can master.  Personally, I don't like water in m'ears.  I also don't like the life-size dragonflies that hover over the pool.  I tell Maddie that they are just there to get a 'sip of water', but really I know that they are there to BITE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!  For some reason, she (obviously) believes me.  I may also have been bitter about her telling me that I wasn't as good at playing 'bounce the beach ball and don't let it hit the water' as m'lover and let her believe they weren't around.  Regardless, this pic is priceless.  As was m'lover's summer hits CD playing in the background.  On repeat.  He does find the hits, I'll not take that away from him.  I just have an issue with the repeat part.  Maddie was probably on round 86 of the '11 Nags Head Soundtrack.  (They are for sale - just hit me up and I'll burn copies.)  They can listen to the same great songs all the livelong day.  Hence my love for my Sirius.  Push, push, push....I'm desined to find something they haven't played today.  Or this year.

For those of you heading south for the holiday weekend, be safe.  I hope you have as much fun as we did - which is near impossible, but take on that challenge.  I wish your family much fun, sun, family time (including all things Skype for those who can't make it), nighttime mani/pedi's (GG's included), games o'rummy, searches for nearby Starbucks (thanks, baby - a'la me and Cacky), Sonic ice buying, TJMaxx ransacking which includes fashion shows, and all-over aloe coatings by your main squeeze. 

PS - F Irene.  Reroute your vaca and enjoy what Mother Nature handed ya.

JB

Where does time go?

Today, my girl gave me THE ABSOLUTE BEST LOOK AND SMILE EVER when heading into school for her next to last day of elementary school.  I usually have to roll the window down and make embarassing noises to get her to turn around and even acknowledge me - today, I just watched and she turned around on her own before walking in and gave me a wave and the biggest, yet softest, genuine grin she ever has.  And I melted.  And that picture will never ever leave my memory.  (Unless I get Alzheimers, but if that happens, the 'ole memory is out of my control.)

I'd written notes to remember my camera for today's school activities, made a mental note before going to bed last night not to forget to grab it on our way out this morning.  But after that instant that Maddie and I shared, I let the reminder slip my mind and I knew that no picture, digital or on paper, would do the moment justice.  And it's all ours and I'll cherish it forever.

JB

never. enough. time.

I'm a very busy person, comrades. 

This is a recent discovery of mine.  It took a little reflecting during the Seasonal Depression of 2010-2011 (I HATE WINTER) and then again over recent days, but I figured it out!  I discovered why I'm such a whiner (not to be confused with wino)!  I whine about having to leave my abode even if it's just to take the recycling out.  Simply put, I love being at home and I feel like I'm never there!  My favorite part of each day is when I'm curled up in my corner of the couch with everything I need around me - but not so much touching me.  I'll have to reflect on why that is at a later date.  The ceiling could be crumbling down from tweens upstairs making up dances while Skyping their BFF's across town and if I'm on in my corner on my couch, let it crumble, I say.  Let it crumble.  If I'm home, the comfy clothes are on and I have nowhere to go, I'm in my element. 

I have lots going on in my life!  (I know, I know - who doesn't.  But this is my blog, see.)  What with work, working out once in a while, carting the girl around to and fro and watching everything we DVR'd for the day there's barely enough time for relaxation and slumber.  I realize that some of you might think that sitting on a sofa watching tv should be relaxing but at our house, you'd be mistaken.  When you're gripping the edge of the sofa cushions sweating while waiting to see if Alex and his rig are going to bust through the ice going across a river on Ice Road Truckers or if there's going to be yet another twist in the investigation for Beckett and Castle you can use the term relaxing, but only if it's opposite day.

This brings me to one of the reasons for my post.  My dear friend Elaine phoned me the other day (and left a message because who knows where my cellular device was at the time) to share with me her new found adoration for one of my favoritest shows, Castle.  When I got her voicemail, I instantly had elaborate plan as to how our conversation would go down:

         EWM:  Hiiiiiiiiiiii, Jen.
         JenB:    It's not Jen, it's Beckett.  Castle, we have a hot one.
              (Elaine, playing along with her battiest of friends)
         EWM:  Why, Beckett - if you're referring to a murder case wouldn't you say, depending on the time  
                      of death of course, that we have a COLD one? HA!
         JenB:    Good one, Castle - now just get down here.

Ya'll catch my drift.  Anyway, my cousin Casey called that same day as well.  Think we've chatted yet since then?  Nope.  Another call I missed?  One from my one-of-these-days-when-we-stop-talking-about-it-and-just-do-it-sister-in-law.  Called her back?  Negative.  I have yet to find make time to return calls to these people who mean so much to me.  Now, I know each call would result in a plethora of giggles, one or both of us yelling at one of our children to give us JUST FIVE FREAKING MINUTES TO TALK IN PRIVATE BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T NEEEEEEEEEED TO MAKE THAT BAG OF POPCORN UNTIL I PICKED UP THIS PHONE, and overall, just a good 'ole fashion catch up session, but I just haven't made the time. 

I am pinky-promising to all my BFF's, gals and guys, to start making time for those return calls.  I'd pinky-promise to answer when you call, but let's not rush things.  I can barely keep track of the girl, the Blackberry doesn't stand a chance. 


***Disclaimer:  Alison and Nen, the above-referenced pinky-promise unfortunately does not pertain to the two of you.  Our conversations run far too long for me to commit and I'd be a big fat (hey, I'm working on those last few lbs) liar if I added you to that pledge.  Please continue to text and/or email me and we'll carry forward with our face-to-face catching ups when there is a birthday party, wedding, birth or one of us has a nervous breakdown.  Ok, fine.  When I have one of my nervous breakdowns.  This has worked for us for over a decade.  If it ain't broke, don't try to fix it.  (Thank you, DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince.)

JB

Here ye, here ye...we have an update!

We hope everyone had a fun and safe weekend.  Just as suspected, our Apple Blossom 2011 didn't go off without a hitch.  The girl won some fish.  By some, I probably mean 32.  One is happily living back in the old 'hood with dear friends (and is hopefully still kicking even though the man of the house informed the youngsters that the likelyhood of the finned friends living through the weekend was slim).  A few have gone home with our dear friend E.M. (ya gotta say her name like that E.     M.   - that's how the Brom-Koop's differentiate between she and Maddie who is often just "M".)

That leaves the rest of them.

After Mr. Linda's sneak attack on one of our Kardashian fish (we're still unsure which one escaped his paws), he did indeed knock down Frenchy the hamster's cage.  After a few days of squirt bottle tactics and a bunch of cussing and "NOOOOOOOOO SIRRRRRRR's", things seemed to calm down.  The still surviving swimming Kardashian had been relocated to the tippy top of the armoire, Frenchy had a new pad (with a 'sky wheel' at that) and things were pretty cool here in animal planet. 

That is, until the other morning.  Around 6am, we hear a loud crash.  Knowing what had happened, we jetted down the stairs - semi silently hoping not to wake M 'in case' things turned tragic.  There was Frenchy's new home and sky wheel skattered across the floor and the little rodent running for her life.  Mr. Linda not knowing whether to run FROM us or run FOR her, the woman of the house (yes, ya'll.  me.  Maddie gets the title AFTER 9am - before then, it's MINE) scooped up the ball of hair and wrangled her to safety.  While I managed to secure yet another of her broken homes, the man of the house cleaned up the disaster.  We decided that since her safety relied in our hands, we'd put her in the laundry room in the basement since Mr. Linda wasn't allowed inside.  Unfortunate, but until this kitten realized that his toys didn't breathe, he was on restriction and so was poor Frenchy.

.....you know what's coming, right?  The fish?  Welp, today I get a message from the lover that things were again amiss at the homestead.  There was evidence of a feline attempt at climing the armoire.  Mr. Linda was after all things finned once again.  And now there were more of them - which certainly made the game more fun.

Needless to say, everything that was under the height of 4'11" that he was after in my last blog is either dead or safe in the dungeon that I happen to do laundry in - and now so are the additional carni-welcomed family members.  I don't feel that's any place for anything besides our under-rooz or Christmas decorations.

THAT being said, anyone want a hamster, a beta or a few million carni fish?  Will come with food (and in the case of the 4-legged one, will come with bedding).  I don't blame ya if you say no - I just thought I'd put it out there.  Don't go all SPCA on me, I'm just asking. 

DISCLAIMER:  E.M.  YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO RESPOND TO THE ABOVE SORT-OF 'HOME WANTED' AD.  I'LL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR HOME BECOMING A PET MENAGERIE SUCH AS OURS.  ALSO, I LOVE YOU FOR ALL YOU DO WITH US, FOR US AND WITH AND FOR OUR M.

jb

We are giving up...

Ya'll, we've got a problem.  Mr. Linda has a personal mission.  He's apparently been called by the President of the Feline Society to report for duty on Operation Cease and Destroy anything under the height of 4'5 at 1215.  Luckily, I'm 4'11.  Maddie may or may not make it.  Koop is safe so ladies, your tall, sexy drink of water will still be around for your viewing pleasure...but that's all.  The rest of him is all mine.  ;)

Last week, Maddie and I came home from a leisurely walk downtown to find that one of our fish, Chloe (or Courtney, we aren't really sure), had been treated like a softball and batted down to her untimely death.  Glass was everywhere, pebbles spread like butter across the hardwood floor and though we tried CPR (minus the mouth to mouth), fish #1 didn't make it.  I tried calling out "Annie, Annie are you ok?  Somebody call for help!", but Maddie didn't think it was funny.  Nor did Anne Harrison Bromley appear from Charleston to laugh with me OR help with resuscitation.  Damn her her leaving me with our long distance relationship.  So we cleaned up the mess, gave Mr. Linda a stern talking to and put him in the corner.  Unfortunately, he likes corners.  Courtney (or Chloe) has been moved to a higher location and hopefully, the 6'3 resident of the house is feeding her since neither of the other two can reach her to supply her with her daily nourishing fin shining ration.

A day or so later, m'lover phoned me at work to inform me that said feline had knocked down Frenchy the Hamster's cage.  Somehow, she survived without having a heart attack.  Unfortunately, her cage has some bruises.  I have pictures, but since I'm lazy, I'll have to post them at a later date.  If you have the visual mind that I do, you can imagine this...

...but with rubber bands holding the water bottle to the cage and poor Frenchy's loft blocked off at the top of her tubing.  The top is gone and she'd definately be cat food if we allowed her access.

We've moved Frenchy here and there to try to deceive Mr. Linda, but he is staying true to his mission and not backing down.  Chris explained to Maddie that him staring into Frenchy's cage would be like a person 87 times it's normal size staring into our living room windows at her.  That's when she giggles and for the three seconds he's away from Frenchy, pre-occupied with a foam soccer ball, she picks the cat up and takes him to wherever the hamster's cage is at the time, and lets him peer into the cage sure to be imagining a scene from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.

Since I'm lazy and didn't post pics, I did a little Google and thought I might find a pic of what our household currently looks like since Mr. Linda's mission began.  I was looking for something like Fort Knox for rodents.  The first thing I stumbled upon was this.....

How do I stop my pet Hamster from chasing my Cat ?

• 3 years ago
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by sunshine...

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April 27, 2008

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Best Answer - Chosen by Asker

You grab the cat by the back of the head and repeat as many times as it takes "YOU ARE A CAT DAMNIT!!!" Afterwards, hopefully, with a little love, your cat will begin to act like a cat and eat your hamster....sorry, but thats really what they are supposed to do...

j/k I really love animals, and would be devastated if your cat ate your hamster...good luck!!

 

 

...this made me giggle.  It also made me realize that we are just teasing our poor kitten with a Lion King lifestyle.  It's the circle of life for crying out loud.  WHY WOULDN'T THE CAT WANT TO EAT CHLOE, COURTNEY AND FRENCHY? 

 

So it's just a matter of time before we are down to just one pet, people.  And I'm ok with that.  That is, until Maddie goes downtown next weekend and wins her annual 102 fish from the carni's.  Stay tuned readers.  There's sure to be some bloggin' after Bloom 2011!  (AL, NO DAIRY IS ALLOWED INTO YOUR PAWS FROM THIS DAY UNTIL MONDAY, MAY 2nd - GOT IT?  SOCIETY IS NOT ALLOWED TO SEE OUR PANIC AND FRUSTRATION LIKE THE BLOOM OF 2007!)

 

jb

 

this cracked me up, ya'll

So, I've been exercising.  (Non-stop since my last blog.  JK.)  It's annoying me.  Not the exercising part so much.  It's what I'm exercising FOR that's plucking my nerves.  I am an instant gratification type of gal, you see.  I've been working on my problem.  Ebay has helped what with having to wait to win, wait for delivery WHEN ya win (and I always do).  Kindle and Amazon have NOT helped (just a click and looky there - the book is all in my face with the "New" saying READ ME!  READ ME!).  But back to my point...I simply cannot keep splitting my pants, people!  Ok.  It only happened once, and in my defense, I'm a shorty and getting into my truck takes effort.  It's much like climbing onto a horse if I correctly remember my one attempt at doing so Camp White Rock-style.  But they were a pair of my Seven For All Mankind jeans!!!  (No, Chapin - not ones you got me.  I'm not even ATTEMPTING to squeeze these newly shaped thighs into those until said excercising does more than it has dropping 5 measly pounds of the 15 unwanted ones I've managed to accrue.)

Apparently in my blissfully happy world of love, special momma/daughter giggles in the car (usually while I'm singing a song loudly...and badly), soccer practices and games, multiplication tables and fractions, and trips to the liquor store, I forgot that m'dang metabolism would slow shut the hell down as I aged and I shouldn't shovel in super-sized bowls of Rigatoni and Ragu smothered in cheese nightly.  (I'm sorry Ragu, I still love you.  And I cherish the times we spent together with Renee, Bacardi and Pepsi, Friends and Will and Grace.  Love and miss you, Nea.)

I sort of mentally beat myself up if I don't go to the gym and then stuff my face with a bag of Bold Party Blend Chex Mix wondering why my jeans are too tight, but today, with my gym bag waiting patiently for me in the car, I open an email from my old friend Melissa.  The subject was something along the lines of walking being good for you.  At first I was like yeah, yeah, I KNOW ALREADY!  But then I got to this part:

My grandpa started walking
five miles a day when he was 60.
Now he's 97 years old
and we don't know where he is.

I don't have a clue as to why this tickled my fancy so much, but it did.  I mean, it's funny!  So today, I'm gonna laugh while I'm on the treadmill wondering where this person's grandpa might be, call my Nanny Bananny to check in on her (hopefully, she's not out on a walk), and I vow this:

I Jennifer Leigh Bromley will only have my favorite-ist most delicious meal of all time ONCE a week.  Starting next week.  JK.  Starting now.

JB

Tic-Tock

This isn't a blog about my biological clock a'tickin'.  Though it may be, those of you expecting me to report that there's a "bun in the oven" can relax.  I'm not gonna need to stop drinking.  Yet.  THE NATIVES CAN RESTOCK THEIR SHELVES!!!  I don't need the ABC stores to put an APB out on me.  They're still bitter about that last time, circa 2000.

This IS, as I understand it, the year of the rabbit.  Kudos to the bunny, I say.  (Especially since my guest spot on GBG #386's blog http://barrfamramblings.blogspot.com/ and our bunny tale - not tail, teeheee.) 

According to the http://www.theholidayspot.com/, last year needed to be O.V.E.R.  Over at least for me. 

Compliments o' cut and paste from the above site:  A placid year, very much welcomed and needed after the ferocious year of the Tiger. We should go off to some quiet spot to lick our wounds and get some rest after all the battles of the previous year.

Good taste and refinement will shine on everything and people will acknowledge that persuasion is better than force. A congenial time in which diplomacy, international relations and politics will be given a front seat again. We will act with discretion and make reasonable concessions without too much difficulty.

A time to watch out that we do not become too indulgent. The influence of the Rabbit tends to spoil those who like too much comfort and thus impair their effectiveness and sense of duty.

Skip to the end, because a lot of that beginning chitter-chatter with big words confused me.  What I read in that last paragraph meant to me, that this tiger made me indulge too often and IT was the reason I piled on a few extra lbs in 2010.  Stupid tiger.  Thank goodness they don't eat their young.  Um, do they?

Anywaaaaaaaay, I'm re-naming this year, 2011, the year of the clock.  Or watch, per say.  I decided this for a few reasons.  One, after purchasing this little timepiece downtown a few weeks ago for the girl.

This is the Pop Watch in Fusion.  Isn't it pretty?

I'll answer you.  Yes, it is.  It even fits nicely around delicate wrists. 

That being said, it was hard to set, dangit.  After picking it up and putting it down a few tens of times over the past two weeks, tonight I set off to the wonderful world of the web for assistance.  Shit and shineola, under the ThePopWatch website, the first FAQ is how to set the SOB!  Giddyup!  And thank you to my straight-post earring.

Also in recent months, we've added a few Slapwatches to our collection:

Also, I have been sporting a fabulous Tag watch compliments of my NJ cousin Casey (I have to specify the residing state, since I also have a VA cousin named Casey).  Her generous fiance gave her a gorgeous new one leading her to handing her first one down to me to keep in the family.  Yay for fiances and cousins!  (I'll also add here that my my VA cousin a few years ago practically gave me (payment plans to me, mean practically giving) the four-wheeled green hornet outside so I could continue to get to work and move the girl to-and-fro.  Yay for cousins, all around, I say!)  I only hope that neither Caseys ask that I pay it forward anytime soon.  I still need to know what time it is AND still need to get around.  ;)

So the Year of the Clock/Watch it is!  Here, anyway.

Tick. 

And.  Tock.

JB