We took Anna to see this over the weekend. In a word, it was fantastic.
We laughed. A lot. Anna was glued to the screen the whole time, but she'd basically do that with any movie. And I've always loved Roald Dahl, so it was a win all around. Go see it.
Welcome to my blog, where you can find many things (not all things) Ashley. This includes stuff about Anna, stuff I've been writing, recipes I like, stuff we do, and whatever else is on my mind.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
My favorite new invention
I guess it's not really new or even considered an invention now, but I LOVE it when grocery stores have disinfectant wipes by the carts. Love it. I would even kiss all the employees to show my thanks — if it didn't cancel out any disinfecting I just did.
Friday, November 20, 2009
An interview with Anna
Here's how a conversation with my three-year-old went the other day:
Q. If you had a baby girl, what would you name her?
A. Sofa.
(This is especially funny because I have a niece named Sophie, so I'm pretty sure that's where Anna got this name—the idea for it, anyway.)
Q. How many kids are you going to have when you grow up?
A. So many.
Q. How many?
A. 25 girls and 26 boys.
Q. Whoa. 51 kids?! Where will you live?
A. In California with you.
Q. And you'll bring all your 51 kids?
A. Yes. Or maybe no.
Q. Wait, so you're going to leave your 51 kids and come live with me?
A. Yes.
Q. Where will your kids live?
A. In the high school. That will be their house.
Q. What are you going to be when you grow up?
A. A mom!
Q. That's a great job. Are you going to have another job too?
A. Yes.
Q. What will it be?
A. You.
Q. Me? I'm going to be your job? You're going to take care of me when I'm old and infirm?
A. Yes.
Q. As your job?
A. Yes.
Isn't she priceless?
Q. If you had a baby girl, what would you name her?
A. Sofa.
(This is especially funny because I have a niece named Sophie, so I'm pretty sure that's where Anna got this name—the idea for it, anyway.)
Q. How many kids are you going to have when you grow up?
A. So many.
Q. How many?
A. 25 girls and 26 boys.
Q. Whoa. 51 kids?! Where will you live?
A. In California with you.
Q. And you'll bring all your 51 kids?
A. Yes. Or maybe no.
Q. Wait, so you're going to leave your 51 kids and come live with me?
A. Yes.
Q. Where will your kids live?
A. In the high school. That will be their house.
Q. What are you going to be when you grow up?
A. A mom!
Q. That's a great job. Are you going to have another job too?
A. Yes.
Q. What will it be?
A. You.
Q. Me? I'm going to be your job? You're going to take care of me when I'm old and infirm?
A. Yes.
Q. As your job?
A. Yes.
Isn't she priceless?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Recycle
A long time ago, I told my sister about these funny warnings that came with some really cheap and sketchy pasta pots that we were given for our wedding. After I read the warnings to her, she posted them on her blog. But since it's been years since the post and now that I have a blog and now that we were joking about these the other day, here they are for all to enjoy. (And enjoy again, if you have been a longtime Jen's Log reader.)
Reading these never fail to make me laugh. In fact, I glued them into my Book of Things That Make Me Happy. Also, the wording and spelling here are 100% consistent with the original instructions, so read carefully.
Take special notice of #2 just for the spelling fun ("nyloin"? I don't want to use anything made out of that) and the wording of #3. What? I also like the incredibly interesting uses of the word “allow,” as if the pots have a mind of their own so they shouldn’t be “allowed” to “operate by metal kitchen untensils,” even though they might want to. I also like how the word “burn” is used all the time, as if that’s how we cook in this country. We burn and fire things. And we may have tried to directly “fire” the bakelite handle, for no reason, if not for the warning. That’s just a funny visual for me, imagining someone holding just the handle directly over the stove in an attempt to cook something.
Reading these never fail to make me laugh. In fact, I glued them into my Book of Things That Make Me Happy. Also, the wording and spelling here are 100% consistent with the original instructions, so read carefully.
WARNING
1. The products cannot be allowed to be wash on the non-stick surface by metal scourer/other metal cleaning utensil.
2. The prosucts cannot be allowed to operate by metal kitchen untensil for cooking (suggest to be nyloin or wood material).
3. The products cannot be burned/fired without the liquid putting inside of the products over 2 minutes.
4. The products cannot be cleaned up by dish washer machinery.
5. The clean up the products is allowed to clean by water and then using the cloth to dry up.
6. The burning/fire temperature cannot be allowed over 220 degrees Celsius.
7. The bakelite handle cannot be directly fired.
Take special notice of #2 just for the spelling fun ("nyloin"? I don't want to use anything made out of that) and the wording of #3. What? I also like the incredibly interesting uses of the word “allow,” as if the pots have a mind of their own so they shouldn’t be “allowed” to “operate by metal kitchen untensils,” even though they might want to. I also like how the word “burn” is used all the time, as if that’s how we cook in this country. We burn and fire things. And we may have tried to directly “fire” the bakelite handle, for no reason, if not for the warning. That’s just a funny visual for me, imagining someone holding just the handle directly over the stove in an attempt to cook something.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Princess Fever
Otherwise known as the Obligatory (Yet Understandable Because She's So Adorable) Halloween Post.
Anna wanted to be a "golden princess" this year. She was very specific about this request, as she loves all things princess, and since I was born wearing homemade, hand-me-down, or scrounged-up Halloween costumes (I'm pretty sure I sported quart jar rings for gigantor earrings more than once or twice), I decided I would make her a golden princess dress. Myself. I wanted her to have a good ol' fashioned Halloween, like the kind I used to have. And since this is basically her first coherent Halloween, I wanted to start her off right.
And, what in the world was I thinking. What a job. But I'm actually glad that I did it. I don't think I'm going to become the next... (who's a famous seamstress?) ... Julia...Bernina, but I'm glad that I can now follow a pattern to some degree and that her dress mostly resembled the picture on the front. And I'm a little more self-sufficient, now. So if you can get past a few quirky alterations and a somewhat wonky zipper, I think it turned out fine.
And she loves it. I've seen more twirls in this thing than any other dress. So mission accomplished, I say.
Also, I really liked how, while we were out trick or treating and when people would compliment her on her dress, Anna was quick to inform them that she wasn't just dressing up—because she was, indeed, a real princess. She was so in character.
And continuing the princess ailment she is currently suffering from, she even wanted a princess carved in her pumpkin. She did the digging and I carved a pretty cute freehand princess, if I can toot my own horn yet again. Let's retitle the post something about that, since that's apparently all I can talk about.
Here is my latest work of art. Post your compliments below.
Anna wanted to be a "golden princess" this year. She was very specific about this request, as she loves all things princess, and since I was born wearing homemade, hand-me-down, or scrounged-up Halloween costumes (I'm pretty sure I sported quart jar rings for gigantor earrings more than once or twice), I decided I would make her a golden princess dress. Myself. I wanted her to have a good ol' fashioned Halloween, like the kind I used to have. And since this is basically her first coherent Halloween, I wanted to start her off right.
And, what in the world was I thinking. What a job. But I'm actually glad that I did it. I don't think I'm going to become the next... (who's a famous seamstress?) ... Julia...Bernina, but I'm glad that I can now follow a pattern to some degree and that her dress mostly resembled the picture on the front. And I'm a little more self-sufficient, now. So if you can get past a few quirky alterations and a somewhat wonky zipper, I think it turned out fine.
And she loves it. I've seen more twirls in this thing than any other dress. So mission accomplished, I say.
Also, I really liked how, while we were out trick or treating and when people would compliment her on her dress, Anna was quick to inform them that she wasn't just dressing up—because she was, indeed, a real princess. She was so in character.
And continuing the princess ailment she is currently suffering from, she even wanted a princess carved in her pumpkin. She did the digging and I carved a pretty cute freehand princess, if I can toot my own horn yet again. Let's retitle the post something about that, since that's apparently all I can talk about.
Here is my latest work of art. Post your compliments below.
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