My daughter has been sick with some sort of virus since Thursday evening. Initially we thought it was Strep Throat because the school nurse sent home a "warning" letter that it was going around the class. The throat culture revealed no Strep infection but I had already sanitized nearly every exposed surface in the house with Lysol.

Since I have not yet had a flu shot (and that is what she seems to have - some kind of virus) I have continued the spritzing and constant hand-washing to ward off any chance that I could get it, too.

I think I am too overwhelmed from the inhalation of disinfectant sprays to write anything cogent today.

I witnessed the weirdest thing today.

My beloved beaver coat was in need of a pre-winter cleaning and some minor repairs. After asking around the 'hood for a good furrier repair shop, I was directed to a local family-owned shop about a mile away. I called ahead to ask if an appointment was needed, the gal stated to just come on in anytime during their business hours.

I pulled into the parking lot and noticed a new Porche Cayenne parked in front of the door. I walked into the store with "the beav'" in tow. A young woman approached me and asked politely if I could "hang out a bit" until they finshed with another customer.

 I had never been in this shop before and I noticed two large garment racks full of coats of varying lengths and colors. Initially, I guessed it was a tag sale of pre-owned coats and thought of walking up and browsing just for fun. But I sat quietly on the leather sofa and waited while I watched a woman whose age seemed to be a mystery (at least, from afar.) She was bleach-blonde, thin as a rail, and dressed in a black CATSUIT with the legs tucked into black, furry yeti boots. I noticed her hair piled on her head and it looked like a discarded wig, until I surmised that it was hair extensions she mangled into a sort of ponytail. I then glanced over at her friends/sisters/companions who appeared to be in their 50's or 60's. In contrast to  their blonde pal, they were conservatively dressed and had on simple wool jackets. Neither of them tried on a coat.

I ambled around the store as I waited and got a full view of the blonde shopper. She had tell-tale signs of plastic surgery because her face looked...not to be unkind, but she didn't look 100% human female. I then realized she was trying things on from these racks, and then after she spent a bit of time at the front counter, the exausted-looking salesman began carting both racks out to the Porsche. She called to him, "Just put them in the backseat!" The salesman came back into the store noting he couldn't fit them and could she please pop the hatchback to store some in the trunk? "Oh, this new car is smaller than the BMW was," she lamented to her suddenly quiet companions.

I wondered for a moment if I was witnessing a re-run of Ab-Fab because that is what the scene looked like: incredible excess to the point of madness.

For a moment I guessed that perhaps she was a retailer and was picking up merchandise for her boutique.

When I went to the counter to have my cleaning and repair bill rung-up, I asked, "Were all of those coats for her?" It really wasn't my buisness to inquire, but the salesman had no problem telling me, "Yes, she bought 30 coats for herself. She's a big coat buyer."

30.

30 NEW fur coats. Since I saw a number of full-length numbers, I am guessing her tab was about $80,000 plus tax.

My bill came to $240. A relative bargain, I mused.

Remember the classic Calgon TV commercial:

Chinese Wife: "My husband, some hotshot!"

I utter that phrase often, although my husband's hotshot comments have little to do with his laundry techniques.

Example:

Last night, he saw me reach into the refrigerator to grab an Activia Light yogurt for dessert. For the uninformed: Activia yogurt is purported to promote digestion and relieve symptoms of constipation.

"I skipped taking Activia for a few days and I noticed the effects of that," I noted.

He replied, "Oh, so you were having no Activia from your Crack-tivia, huh?!"

My daughter had fun last night. I escorted her around the neighborhood as she rang doorbells dressed as Cleopatra. I made this costume for her - including putting beads and braids on her wig. We designed the makeup together - she even wore false eyelashes. She looked really cool.

What was strange was that virtually none of the kids at school knew who she was; only adults. SHE knew about Egyptian queens of ancient times, but that may be because she has read kid's versions of the bible, with really great illustrations of the Egyptian princess saving baby Moses. OR because she has visited art and natural history museums to see ancient art and artifacts. OR...because she isn't a culturally/historically illiterate stooge like way too many Americans these days *sigh*

On a disturbing note, one boy in her second grade class came to school in a black velvet and leopard print suit and hat with a large gold chain necklace. He was a "pimp" - in SECOND GRADE!!!!! Possibly more disturbing were all of the little boys admiring his outift, saying, "Hey, Louie, cool Pimp outift!"

*sigh*

SINCE I try to watch my refined sugar intake, and since we typically get very FEW trick-or-treaters, I try to buy treats that won't tempt me when there are leftovers.

We are giving out Charms mini-lolipops, fruit-flavor tootsie rolls and individually wrapped/pre-packaged rice crispie treats. This way, I can use any leftover RC treats in hubby's lunch bag, and he can take the other items to put in a candy dish on his desk.

What are you giving out to visitors tomorrow night? What is the weirdest thing you have ever RECEIVED (or your kid's have received?)

Two new purchases in the Brandy household:

After a few days of internet-based shopping, we traded in my old 1998 Ford Taurus for pretty much the SAME car, just a later model. The poor "Tortoise" as we used to call it, was dying a slow death. It had a rust problem ("car cancer") that already caused one brake line to rust through, and another was on the brink. It had other issues too, like a failing oxygen sensor, windows that no longer operated, and I never knew if I had turn signals because the relay connection was so corroded that, even after adding a new part, my husband could not get the electrical on that to work consistently. There were a bunch of other funky aged-realted problems. We felt it just wasn't safe anymore.

So I found a good price on a later year, not-too-high-miles 2005 Sable, which is the same car, just slightly different exterior trim. The Taurus had nice metal rims and a power front seat 5-way adjustability. The sable has plastic hubcaps and a manul saet that either goes forward or back! I actually mught need to get one of htose pillows that strap on the seat because I get no back support.

 The funniest thing is - while the Taurus had am/fm CASSETTE...so does the Sable! Can you imagine being the person on the line in the Ford factory building a 2005 car with CASSETTE player!!!! No wonder Ford is in the sh*ts financially!

Anyway, the cassette thang is no big whoop, because I am more of a radio listener. I also have one of those casstte conversion tape-with-cord thingys so I can run my mp3 player through the cassette deck, and that works just fine enough for me.

I don't get very excited about cars. I wanted SAFE, easy to drive, good backseat room for kid, and decent gas milage (this one is 20cty/27 hwy) plus minimum 150 hp/V6 for highway driving and I got all that without the hassle of a car payment (low enough price w. trade in, so we paid out of savings.)

The only bummer is it stunk of cigarrette smoke when my hubby brought it home! (I chose it online, pulled the CARFAX report which was clean, and just sent him w. the paperwork to pick it up!) So I used nearly an entire bottle of Febreeze to freshen it up and left the doors open all day. It's getting better...

The "cage" part of this post refers to finally breaking down and getting a proper habitat enclosure for the frogs/tadpoles. I spent most of the morning setting it up. It looks nice and provides much more room for live plants, rocks, floating plants, and a "climbing wall" as well!

To give equal time to a few of my other furry friends... here are some recent photos:

Percy is gorgeous and he knows it. We have had him since he was not quite 6 weeks old. He was born at our neighbors house, and lived with BOTH cat parents.We chose him from the litter because I could tell he'd have long hair even as a tiny puffball of a kitten. Since he is the only pet of ours not from a shelter, we call him "The Little Prince." He adores my husband and begs to sit on his lap (as seen in picture), runs to the door when he comes home from work, etc. He bites ME on the toes or ankles when he's hungry... he is a BRAT to me and very demanding. He loves to play "fetch" and wrestle with Lucky.


Here is a picture of our "newest" cat, Lucky, hanging out with his friend, Megan the Scottish terrier. I'll spare you the sad details, but "Lucky" is very lucky, indeed. We rescued him off the street at just under 1 year old, and he was not in great shape. He has since become a very healthy, hearty, and incredibly sweet-natured boy (he has all 4 paws; the picture is deceiving.)

 He favors me and my daughter, tends to "nap" next to Megan, and enjoys playing each evening with his toys or his pal, Percy. He is the antithesis of "brat" - even coming to say "thank you" after being fed each evening by rubbing on my legs as he purrs. Don't tell the others but he is my favorite pet!

I finally retrieved a picture of my Scottish terrier, Megan, from my phone (that explains the crappy resolution.) Here she is being blessed on St. Francis of Assisi day by Father Steve.

Usually Meg is very protective of me, growling at any man or beast (i.e. - other dogs) that come near. However this day she was SO good and quiet, as were all the dogs in attendance. No one growled or barked or chased one another. It was, to be honest, quite eerie. The funniest was when we sang a hymn at the end of the prayer service - Meg decided to howl along!

Beet Farmer (and B&B proprietor) Dwight Schrute might be on to something: beets.
I am now in the habit of cosuming freshly juiced beet - leaves, stems and all - on a near-daily basis. I LOVE the purple color and the way it easily combines with the juices of apple, pineapple, various berries, cranberry and/or oranges to make a delicious morning "cocktail." As I type, I am sipping a fresh pineapple, cranberry, apple, beet juice concoction. I usally pour it over crushed ice. Mmm. Beety-goodness.

I also have to share: (since I haven't posted a bathroom-related update in awhile) My IBS symptoms have literally DISAPPEARED since I began juicing. I do not know if it is a specific fruit or vegetable, the nutrients and enzymes, or just the fact that two "meals" (fruits in morning, veggies for lunch) in liquid form allow my GI tract to not have to work so much, but I have been feeling FANTASTIC. I spent $99 on the juicer, and that has more than paid for itself because I no longer have to buy the very expensive contraband Zelnorm from Mexico.

Finally, a pantry update: I replaced my stanky "Fisher" peanut butter with a fresh jar of Jif. Since its my "treat" for the day, I prefer the full-on old-skool corn-syrupy sweet-salty taste sensation of the non-natural (?) peanut butter brands. Why not? I AM making up for it with my beets...

Peanut butter is one of my staple foods. I eat it every day, often just a spoonful of it as a combo protein addition/treat sometime mid-day, occassionaly on low-carb bread for breakfast or lunch (along with a glass of fresh juice from my juicer.)

I don't know how this happened but I ran out of my beloved spread on Sunday. After church, I hustled over to the supermarket to replenish my stock.

Usually I am happy with a store brand, or if its on sale, the leading brands like Skippy or Jif. On the shelf I saw "Fisher" brand peanut butter. And it was the CHEAPEST PB in that jar size range - even less than the store brand. I thought aloud that "Fisher", as in "Fisher nuts" are a "brand name."

Upon closer inspection, I saw a notice emblazoned on the jar: "Chicago's home town nut!" it proclaimed. I was sold. I grabbed two jars and headed to the checkout.

When I selected my trusty tablespoon to indulge in my daily treat, my mouth reacted in disppointment and disgust.

It must be the WORST peanut better EVER! It is overly sweet with a texture that is not *quite* right to my palate.

HOW the heck do you mess up PEANUT BUTTER???

Since I had one unopened jar, I packed it with other canned goods to be donated to our local food pantry. I felt bad for a minute, but then I thought, it might be salvageable inthe taste department if the ingester pairs it with a gob of grape jelly or similar. Is that so wrong?