Hot Hot Hot

In high school I was making Jalapeno Bread for Spanish class when I managed to get pepper in my eye - I'm awesome like that. My mom had me bent over backwards in the kitchen sink yanking my eyeballs open. I thought for sure I had gone blind. Which brings me to my next story...

We took a stab at gardening this year (written in 2011 but not previously posted). My contribution has been occasional watering and routinely pulling out Josh's jalapeno plant every few weeks because I think it's just another weed.  Somehow one jalapeno plant survived and made a few little pepper guys for us to enjoy.

Despite my advice, Chef Josh did a poor job washing his hands after chopping jalapenos two days in a row. The first incident lead him to a cold shower! The second time he just scratched his back side and lit a real fire under his ass. And of course...I somehow managed to get it in my eye again thanks to his tainted kitchen towel.

Consider this our Public Service Announcement: Use jalapenos with caution. Wear eye protection and don't scratch anything valuable.

The Bates Motel

I, of course, am exaggerating just a bit. But this place in Murdo, South Dakota made me feel like we were visiting The Bates Motel.

Driving home from Oregon we reached out last stop. We saw a billboard for Country Inn with a pool open until midnight and rooms starting at $36. Suspicious from the start, we decided to check out the "uniquely decorated rooms" anyway.

We were greeted in the Lobby/somebody's living room, by a man with black fluffy hair and a perfectly matching mustache. He was polite! But still gave me the Willies. He gave us a virtual tour of the rooms on a display-board of Polaroids and then took us to see the pool. It was heated to 90 degrees because "Mother says anything below 90 isn't suitable for humans."

Our uniquely decorated room had two Queen beds, a bit of 1970's Asian theme  decor, bright red shaggy carpet and a glossy black toilet seat shaped like a sea shell. The biggest perk of all was Mood Music piped into every room.

Thank God Josh loves me enough to just trust my Willies and drive six more blocks and spend an extra $30 at Best Western.


You can see our friendly Tour Guide in the lovely brochure I brought home as a souvenir of the time we survived a visit to The Bates Motel.

The George Foreman Grill

We got some really amazing wedding gifts and I couldn't be more thankful. But Josh and I had both heard stories from other married friends about how uncomfortable the gift opening can be when you unwrap some priceless treasure from a distant relative...or someone sitting right in front of you.
So, when Josh insisted that we open gifts privately I was relieved. As we were opening packages we came across two mystery gifts.

1 - Three packages in the same wrapping. The first box was a 1/2 gallon of Margarita mix and some KY Yours & Mine. With no card attached we started guessing. Who knows us well enough to buy us something so practical and perfect? Box number two was a gallon size Margarator. At this point we were narrowing down the suspects. Ashley Nuss, one of my college roommates, was in the lead. We thought our suspicions were confirmed when box number three was indeed from her. Wrong! We had our good friend Chris "Give Me a Tasty Shot" Shive to thank for "Honeymoon Package."

2 - The George Foreman Grill was the wedding gift you hear horror stories abut. Wrapped in inside-out Christmas paper, this thing arrived looking "gently used." We found a $15 garage sale sticker on the side. Then the blame game started. Was it a joke? Who would do that? Together we decided to try and keep this gem to ourselves. That lasted less than 24 hours when Josh's grandpa helped us carry in the gifts from the car and knocked the $5 sticker off the other side of the box. Busted!

Today, one month later, the George Foreman Grill mystery has been solved! My wonderful brother confessed before the family, who was in a fit of giggles, that it was him. The gift was a prank in the making for quite some time. It had been re-gifted to him two years ago at his own wedding. And after surviving three garage sales at the Kern house it was passed on again. And tonight as I pulled into the driveway, my phone rang. My mother offered to buy it for $5. SOLD!

The Great Boat Debate of 2011

Last Sunday we had the best time fishing with Tristan, my cousin's husband, and Finn, my "nephew." A friend brought a John Boat out to the pond. We spent the majority of he morning laughing; you can't catch much with a three-year-old on board. He ate half the bait. But it wasn't that big of a deal since Tristan insisted you could catch Blue Gill with hot dogs. The biggest laugh of the day was when Finn whizzed off the side of the boat doing the Titanic "I'm the King of the World" pose. I spent most of the day using the loop on the back of his life jacket to pick him up and move him away from the water, boat trailer and poop. Hundreds of acres and he wants to check out the one pile duck poop.

A few days later Tristan finds a John Boat on Craig's List for $600. He asks his wife if he can buy it but she said no. His next move was to call Josh. This happens more often that I'd like to admit. Our husbands conspire against us. It took less than 24 hours and one 30 minute argument to convince me buying a boat was a great idea. Then my job became convincing Angela that buying the boat together was a great idea. After several phone calls between the four of us and one call with the guy selling the boat, I'm sad to report that the boat sold for $500 to some other Lucky Duck. I told him, "That's too bad. I would have paid $600!" Angela was relieved when I called to tell her that The Great Boat Debate of 2011 was over. But I'm still a little disappointed. Good thing we didn't say anything to Finn.

One Big Nacho

Sometime you have to be creative. Aside from a failed attempt at Stuffed Peppers and one Shit on Shingles disaster, I'm usually not a bad cook. Whether there's nothing in the cupboards or just a boat load of left overs I can find something edible.

Today we had One Big Nacho. It all started with a backyard party that resulted in an extra bag of chips and a heap of left over hamburgers. Aunt Laurie gave me the Mexican inspiration and the rest was intuition.

I called my dad to tell him my game plan. "First I covered the bottom of the dish in broken corn chips. Then there was a layer of hamburgers with some Rotel and taco sauce. I covered it in cheese sauce and some more cheese. Then more chips, some more cheese and taco sauce. It's just One Big Nacho!" We both laughed so hard I cried.

I expected Josh would say, "You don't have to make this again." But he kind of liked it! His only suggestion was to try chicken next time.

Just Because Nothing Better for to Do

More than one person has told me I need to Blog - or write a book. My life is no more interesting than anyone else as far as I know. But a few people seem to think so. So now I Blog. Because God knows I don't have the time or patience to write a book.