King Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream, presented by Moonpie

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The head of the statue was made of pure gold, its chest and arms of silver

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its belly and thighs of bronze, its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay.

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A rock was cut out, but not by human hands. It struck the statue on it’s feet of iron and clay and smashed them.     Daniel 2:32-34

Bridge, Star Wars, and Eschatology – we’re going to be beating the boys off with a STICK.

Raiding Facebook

I love looking at my friend’s photos on Facebook. And I especially love stealing showcasing them.

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You can find all kinds of good stuff. Like cool hats.

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And good hair.

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You can learn new things about a person,

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and things you’d like to forget.

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You can see how college life is going,

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and begin to wonder about this man you married. Like when was he insane?

Maybe there IS such a thing as too much information.

Bridge. No troubled water.

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We arrived at our departure point (so it’s a retirement community, what of it?)  ready for ACTION. And by action, I mean the scenic drive to Ellijay for our bridge weekend.

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This was our first time in this particular cabin, and it looked a lot bigger on the website. It only had 8 channels on the TV, no clocks, no firewood, steep stairs, and only FOUR rolls of toilet paper for 4 women playing 15 hours of bridge each day and consuming approximately 22 cups of coffee each.

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But it DID have a hot tub. We’re not pioneers for goodness sake!

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We played bridge. A LOT of bridge. Some people take it seriously, but I’m just there to have fun.

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We ate a lot of cheesy dips.

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And brownies. Lots of brownies.

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Carolyn brought us each a bridge mug. I’m not sure WHY she picked this one out for me. I guess they were all out of, “I just enjoy  playing card games with my friends -win or lose” mugs.

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We hung out, eating and playing bridge in out matching card PJ’s, all weekend.

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Oh, this is Ellie Mae, our trophy.

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We keep a running tally and the high scorer for the weekend gets their name on the back. I can’t really make out ALL the names, but I’ve been on there a few times.

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Alas, this year’s winner was Patty. It was a STUNNING come-from-behind victory, since she was behind on the first day by about 3000 points.

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We were all very happy for her.

Moron-proof Hot Corn Dip

Yes, I’m still in the mountains with the girls – no men, no children, and no trump. HAHAHAHA. That’s a bridge thing – no trump – get it? ANYWAY, the ladies have learned over the last EIGHT years, that I’m not a very good cook. So while everyone else plans a meal, I’m usually regulated to bringing condiments. But I do have ONE recipe that they request every, single year.

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It begins with one can of regular corn, and one of Mexican corn. Drain and pour in a bowl.

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Add in 1 cup of parmesan cheese.

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And 2 cups of pepper jack. Do you notice the piece of plastic I found in my grated pile? Can you digest plastic? It is not my fault they don’t sell GRATED pepper jack in the store. I was inconvenienced enough, without having to take off the wrapper. Geesh.

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Add 1 cup of mayo, and mix well.

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Cook at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Then out will pop a bowl of cheesy, bubbly deliciousness, so good you’re friends will proclaim you Appetizer Queen and insist that you never cook an actual meal again. It’s my signature recipe. Serve with corn chips.

I’ll be back from my weekend tonight. So tomorrow I’ll have lots of pictures and stories revolving around BRIDGE. I expect my hits will skyrocket.

Moron Test Kitchen – Toffee Fruit Dip AND a special Birthday Shout Out

Awww. Now this is how you RELAX. That’s right, while you’re reading this, I’m hanging in the mountains with my home girls playing BRIDGE. We’re probably in our matching pj’s, stuffed on biscuits/chicken/hotwings/brownies/insertfooditemhere right this minute. The husband is posting this for me. Or he’s deleting all my files and changing the passwords. Whichever.

I thought I’d try out a new recipe for the girls, cause I’m such a culinary genius. A friend brought this dip to tennis and it was so yummy that people were eating it with a spoon!

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This is all you need – brown sugar, regular sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and Heath toffee bits. Yeah, I buy  the Great Value brand. Don’t judge me.

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Use 1 box of cream cheese. Then “cream” in 1/4 cup of white sugar. I hate recipes that call for “creaming” or “folding”. That sounds so pretentious. Why isn’t mixing it enough? And have you ever heard anyone say, “That was a great cake, but she totally creamed instead of folded.” I think not.

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Then “fold” in a 1/2 cup of brown sugar. Mixing. creaming, folding, I’m a renegade.

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Add 1 teaspoon of vanilla…

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and half a bag of Heath toffee bits. Stir/mix until creamy. You can save a few bits to top with if you desire.

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Serve with slices of apples. YUMMY. This was easy, affordable, and delicious. Moron Test Kitchen – A. Chances are high that at this very moment, I’m hiding in the kitchen eating this with a spoon, while the others are yelling, “Where’s the dummy go?”

Uh…Dummy – that’s bridge talk. Don’t read anything into it.

NOW, about that birthday…..

My friend Mantamy posted a comment that I had forgotten her husband’s birthday is also in October. And she was TOTALLY kidding. But as is the way at Zolligirl, any comment or suggestion is considered an invitation to blog about said commenter. And their spouses. So I want to take a moment and say a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my friend MantaGreg.

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When you dive with sharks, swim with killer whales, traverse volcanoes at night, dive under the ice at the North Pole while someone has to stay up top with a hatchet to keep the hole from freezing over AND get your cuts stitched up by Russian, ex-KGB agents with little more than a needle and fishing line while far out at sea* – you might want to celebrate every birthday you see.

Happy Day, MantaGreg! You made it to another one!

*All true. And more. I don’t seem so crazy now, do I?

Lordy, Lordy look who’s FORTY!

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You didn’t really think I’d forget did you, Karen? You didn’t think you’d quietly read these posts and snicker that you’d somehow gotten by without the obligitory Birthday Shout-Out? Hello? Umm, Karen? Do you even READ my blog?

Whatever. KAREN is 40. FORTY. It’s almost impossible to believe, since she’s always been my sweet, young cousin. Emphasis on YOUNG. I guess it’s a bigger deal when you’re six and they’re two. Or say you’re FOUR, and your aunt and uncle who don’t have any kids treat you like your SPECIAL, which is a big deal because your the middle child and get no love or attention at ALL, then said aunt and uncle have a CHILD, betraying everything you thought you knew about them, drop you like a hot potato and lavish all their affection on a tiny, little interloper. Yeah, that might call for a SHOUT-OUT. A Birthday Shout-out, or as I like to call it, the day Lisa learned a hard lesson about familial ties.

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Just look at HER. Those eyes! They’re saying, “Yeah, you were all that when they had no one else around, but beat it kid. I’m here now and I’m gonna kick your booty.”  Oh sure, she ACTS sweet. But the evidence is conclusive.

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She’s trying to CHOKE a cat, for crying out loud. Am I the only one who sees it? My whole life I’ve had to listen to, “Oh, isn’t Karen sweet?”, “Doesn’t Karen have a great job?”, “Don’t you just love her new house?”.

Just because she acts all nice, hangs out with her mom, and helps take care of her beloved father EVERY DAY as he battles Alzheimer’s, does not make her ALL THAT. Oh. Okay, I guess it does. Perhaps I misjudged the whole cat photo thing.

My bad.

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Happy Birthday, KARO!

The NFL is confusing

There’s been a lot of controversy lately about talk-show host, Rush Limbaugh, and his attempt to buy a part of the Rams franchise. The latest is that he’s going to be dropped from the group attempting the buy, so that they will have a chance.

Yeah, you wouldn’t want to let someone like Rush Limbaugh ruin the reputation of the NFL. They need good owners. Like the recently approved Fergie of Black Eyed Peas.

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She sings awesome songs about getting “friendly” with both boys AND girls. Now that’s BOUND to inspire a new generation of football fans.

And then there’s the players themselves. As stellar a bunch of guys as you’re ever likely to find in one place.

Like this one:

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I guess dogs are NOT man’s best friend.

And this guy:

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Plaxico Burress, shot his OWN self. Who hasn’t done that? Bars are crowded. It’s hard to keep track of all your firepower.

And of course –

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Hmm, well maybe the owners aren’t that great, and the players need work, but the FANS…now I’m sure the FANS are proud, upstanding citizens, exemplifying everything the NFL stands for.

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Mugshots courtesy of The Smoking Gun.

Never mind. This is why I watch tennis.

Conversation with a FRIEND’S child

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Me: So, how are your grades?

Kid: Pretty good, except for math. I got a C. (sounds frustrated), But I REALLY AM TRYING.

Me: C is not so bad.

Kid: Dad gets upset. He thinks in order to get into a good school, I need A’s and B’s.

Me: What? Like God can’t overcome a C if he wants you at a good school?

Kid: That’s what I SAY.

Me: You know not to mention that came from me, right?

Kid: No problem.

Reason to homeschool #42

From the New York Times:

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NEWARK, Del. — Finding character witnesses when you are 6 years old is not easy. But there was Zachary Christie last week at a school disciplinary committee hearing with his karate instructor and his mother’s fiancé by his side to vouch for him. Zachary’s offense? Taking a camping utensil that can serve as a knife, fork and spoon to school. He was so excited about recently joining the Cub Scouts that he wanted to use it at lunch. School officials concluded that he had violated their zero-tolerance policy on weapons, and Zachary was suspended and now faces 45 days in the district’s reform school.

Do they really expect us to send our precious Moonpie to school with all of those CHILDREN, and not be armed? They’ll take away her spork when they pry it from  her cold, little hand!

We MAY actually homeschool because we’re not allowed within 50 yards of school property, but still. It is a stupid story.

Lucky 13. (Warning: Contains nudity)

Team Tyre has officially been married 13 years. THIRTEEN YEARS. It has flown by and I have to say we have MATURED over the years. For instance, on our first Christmas together, we decided to mail all of our friends an “artsy” Christmas card. We were photographers, after all. We only sent it out to our “cool” friends. Unfortunately, THEY showed it to all of their friends, and so on. That card is now a collectors item. I have the original, hidden safely away in case of emergency. I ALMOST posted it, but thought better of it. I mean, my husband is NAKED after all. That’s not the kind of thing you want your church friends seeing. Or your mother.

Don’t freak out, it was TASTEFULLY done, and based on a famous work of art. You can see the work it was based on below. But it really does contain a naked man.
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Don’t say you weren’t warned.
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Last chance.
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See, not so bad. Ours said, “All we are saying is give Peace a chance.” Oh, and JD wasn’t TOTALLY naked. That would be creepy. He was wearing orangutan slippers. Made all the difference in the world.

I can pretty much guarantee that this years card will contain no nudity.We’ve REALLY come a long way, baby! Happy 13!