A Rose, or Wine, by Any Other Name...

Several days ago, I posed a question on a messageboard where I post regularly. Do you ever buy wine based solely on the name? What I mean is, you're wine shopping, and suddenly a bottle catches your attention, and although you've never tried this particular wine, you just know you have to buy it because of its name or the bottle. Sometimes, you get lucky and you actually end up with a pretty decent wine, too! So, in no particular order, here are some of the wines that came up in our discussion.

1--Fat Bastard--Who could pass this one up? With a name like Fat Bastard, I knew I had to buy this particular Merlot one day. Luck was on my side, too, because it's a pretty good Merlot. I understand from some friends that the Fat Bastard Shiraz is good, too.

2--Barking Sheep--I just came across this one a few days ago. It's from Argentina, and it has a label with a picture of a sheep holding a sign that says, "Beware of the Sheep." The first thing that came to my mind was the old Monty Python Flying Circus episode where they are trying to teach the sheep to fly! Barking sheep...I nearly laughed out loud and knew I had to buy it. I haven't tried it yet, so we'll see if it lives up to its name.

3--Menage a tois--I saw this one, and although I didn't buy it...mainly because I already had ten bottles of wine in my cart, and one more may have pushed me over the edge and labeled me as an official alcoholic, I think I will be going back in the near future to purchase this. Who could pass on a good Menage a Tois? Wine, that is.

4--Mad Housewife--I think the name says it all. I need to find some place that sells this one. On those days when the darling Czech Pecker and the spawns of Satan are getting on my last nerve, this would be the one to pull out. Better yet, I could put this one in a flask to carry with my for those emergency nervous breakdown moments.

5--Old Tart--My English friend, Sali, mentioned this one. I love the name! I need to go to the liquor store/wine shop that carries a large international variety to see if I can find this one.

6--Toasted Head--Sounds vaguely cannibalistic, doesn't it? I saw this Chardonnay a few days ago and picked it up. It has a picture of a bear on the label. We'll see how it is. As a rule, I'm not much of a white wine drinker, preferring the reds, but once in a blue moon, I enjoy a change.

7--Royal Bitch--I NEED to find this one. It screams my name.

8--7 Deadly Zins--This is another one that I totally need to find.

9--Smoking Loon--I haven't bought this one, but I've seen it and considered it. The label has a loon on it smoking a cigar. Smoking birds are really cool, you know!

It looks like I have a lot of wine to try. I guess it's a good thing I didn't give it up for Lent!

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Most Chaotic of Times

It's Catholic Schools Week. My schedule is full. Enough said.

Our annual fundraiser is coming up for the kids' school. Among items that go up for silent auction, each class completes an art project that goes up for bid. I'm working on the 2nd grade and 5th/6th grade projects. I'm busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. Enough said.

As mentioned in my previous post, my son is preparing for his First Communion and First Reconciliation. There are extra things that have to be done for that, workshops, etc. Enough said.

The dogs are going crazy. Maia and Natasha escaped on Saturday, and we spent over an hour chasing them down. More dog-proofing to be done around here...Enough said.

Speaking of dogs, it appears that I tore my rotator cuff back in October when Skyy caused me to slam into a sign at school. The bruise that was roughly the size of Rhode Island disappeared after a couple of weeks, but my arm still hurts like a mo fo, so I thought something might be Not Quite Right with it. Looks like physical therapy for me, as if I'm not busy enough. Enough said.

First Communicant in Black

It's hard to believe, but that little baby boy of mine is quickly approaching his First Communion. April 13th, to be exact. Where has the time gone? I thought he was born just a couple of years ago...

But I digress. In keeping with the eccentric qualities of most of the members of my family (I think they get it from my side!), J.P., my John Patrick, has decided that he wants to wear a black suit for his First Communion formal wear. Not so odd, you say? Hey, I'm not finished. He also wants to wear a black dress shirt and a black tie along with black dress shoes. Yes, black from head to toe. Um, why does my boy want to wear all black while he receives one of the Sacraments of the Church, you may ask? Is he a Goth child? An anti-Christ wannabe? The black sheep, so to speak, among a sea of white frilly First Communicant little girls?

None of the above, actually. He's a Johnny Cash fan. He wants to be The Man in Black during his First Communion. Oh, and he wants a pair of dark sunglasses and a black fedora so that afterwards, he can be the "skinny guy" from the Blues Brothers.

I haven't decided if we're raising him right or contributing to the need for extensive therapy when he's grown up. At any rate, at least nobody can accuse us of being too conventional.

Strange Dreams

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night, the vestiges of some dream still dancing around in your sleep-fogged brain, and think, "Wow! That would be a great story! Brilliant!" And you reach for something write it all down so you won't forget it in the bright morning sunlight.

Of course, what appears a brilliant plot line in the soft moonlight while you're still drugged with sleep often strikes you as quite psychotic in the harsh light of day once you've consumed the requisite amount of caffeine to function throughout the day, and then you realize that if you wrote THAT, people would think you're crazier than a shit house rat.

Yeah, that happened to me again last night, or rather this morning. I woke up around 3 a.m., a circumstance that really is not all that unusual, and I felt that the Muse had been visiting me in my dreams. I jotted down a few phrases, fragments from my nighttime reveries. I'm looking at them now and thinking, "I need to be committed to an institution for the terminally insane."

Still, I might write something about it for the hell of it, so if you see a story about an Incan Monkey God, the involvement of the Spanish Inquisition (NOBODY expects it, you know!), lost ancient language tablets, the mythic city of El Dorado (language is gold?), and a place called Demon Island City, then you know that my insanity has been purged.

Snow!

We woke up to a winter wonderland this morning. Okay, so it was only about 3 or 4 inches, but here in the South, that is a Big Deal. Snow and South Carolina generally do not go together, so those rare occasions when we are graced with its presence, well, we go a bit crazy, unlike in my native Kentucky, where we're already crazy, so a bit of snow doesn't add to it.

Anyway, the dogs LOVED it. The back yard was a scene of Huskies Gone Wild, with dogs running everywhere, jumping and leaping over tree branches that had been cut down. And that reminds me of a song.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2nJn6rZdtI


Tomorrow should return to normal, with kids back in school, and that is a Good Thing. I can only handle so much of this Snow Day/Missing School stuff!

Webkinz, Wolves, and Chihuahuas, Oh My!

My kids have really gotten into this whole webkinz craze lately. In case you have been living in a cave and don't know what webkinz are, they are these stuffed animals that come with cards that have a log-on code. You log into Webkinz World with that code, and there is your pet! You can do jobs and play games to earn kinz cash that you can then use to buy food and other things for your pet. Kids can also connect with each other and give gifts to each other. My kids and my niece are connected to each other and do this all the time. Among the three of them, I would estimate that they have around 5,000 webkinz pets. Okay, so I exaggerate, but they have several pets, including various cats, dogs, a panda bear, a gorilla, and who knows what else. The room here often fills with the sounds of games such as Cash Cow and this other game where a little Chihuahua comes on and talks about his bean and his sombrero and his candy.

Speaking of Chihuahuas, are they really dogs? I mean, supposedly they are, but I saw one at Petsmart a couple of days ago being pushed around in the shopping cart by its owners. It had a little glittery collar on, and the owners were shopping for little sweaters for it. I assume it needed them because the poor thing was shivering. Either it was cold or scared or neurotic. Based on the few I've encountered in the past, I'm going with the latter.

It's just rather difficult to place the little rodent-like creatures in the Canine Category. When you consider that our present-day domestic canine companions are descendants of wolves, and then you look at a Chihuahua, it's hard to reconcile. They don't exactly look Lupine, you know. A Siberian Husky...now THERE is a dog that looks like it was descended from a wolf. Okay, okay, so I'm biased, but look at what I mean.

The picture on the far left is a grey wolf. The middle picture is Sitka, one of my Siberian Huskies. You can definitely see some similarities there. Furthermore, Huskies exhibit a lot of wolf-like behaviours, particularly in their pack structure. I won't go into boring details here. But believe me, they are "wolf lites." And to the far right, we have the Chihuahua. Do you see the wolf in it? Other than a long snout, I don't.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against Chihuahuas. I love the Taco Bell dog. I don't like Taco Bell, but I love the Taco Bell dog. If I could find one that speaks Spanish like that, I'd even consider getting a Chihuahua, but I'm afraid my Huskies would just consider it a snack.

My grandfather actually raised the things after he retired from the Army. Imagine this big military man, retired Lt. Col., Army surgeon, going ga-ga over a pack of Chihuahuas. It defies logic. My sister in Kentucky, Becky, has a teacup Chihuahua named Sauza. As if a regular Chihuahua isn't small enough, this little pooch would nearly fit into my cell phone holder! Sauza has gotten lost a few times, and I can see why. She's even smaller than my kids' Guinea Pigs! But she is an amusing little thing. Becky can tell her to "Praise Jesus!" and Sauza, as well as Becky's other dog, a Yorkie-Poo named Sadie, will hop up on her back legs, front paws reaching to the sky, and the two dogs will dance around in circles! Charismatic canines...I'm sure some would say I'm going to hell on a bobsled, but it makes me laugh. Of course, those same people probably think I'm going to hell on a bobsled because I'm a heathen Catholic...

In the meantime, my howling honeys call to me. Time to feed the wild bunch.

Of Bees, Shoes, and Demonic Barbers

My daughter will forever remember how to spell "nebbish." That is the word she missed at the regional spelling bee last Thursday, spelling it with one "b" instead of two. Still, she made it through several rounds and spelled several difficult words before she struck out on that one, and the fact that she was a winner from the school and made it that far was quite impressive. The most important thing, however, was the fact that she enjoyed herself and was happy with her own performance.

Incidentally, a nebbish, of Yiddish origin, is defined as "a timid, meek, or ineffectual person" according to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. Rebekah is definitely NOT a nebbish!

After the spelling bee, my husband, the dear Czech Pecker, took me out for some Indian cuisine. The mini-me, Rebekah, abandoned us to dine with her nana. The food was excellent, but I had to WALK several blocks, an event that I had not planned for, and thus, the shoes I wore did not qualify as comfortable walking shoes. They are, however, Very Cute Shoes. See?

I love these shoes, and they're fine for short distances, but the arch support sucks. By the time I had walked several blocks to the restaurant, dined on a delicious subcontinental lunch, which offered a brief respite for my size 7's, and hiked back to the parking garage, I was creeping along, looking like a person walking on hot coals. I received a few strange looks. I came home and looked for vodka.

By Saturday, I was sufficiently recovered to head out to the movie theatre with friend to see Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. (Official movie site http://www.sweeneytoddmovie.com/). It was incredible. Really, I don't presently have the words to review it sufficiently, but I thought it was simply amazing. I absolutely loved it.

In the meantime, the dogs are still wreaking havoc around here, as always. Skyy hasn't eaten any additional books, though, so I suppose that's good. Sitka is trying to wean her pups and tries to escape from them whenever she can. I know how she feels. The hours when my kids are at school are generally quite blissful.