We had our annual holiday get-together at our house this last weekend, where something like 25 to 100 people stopped by our little abode to partake in food, drink, and stimulating conversation.
Twenty-five is the more likely number of attendees, but it’s all a matter of perspective, right? A very social, extroverted person may have looked at our gathering and thought, “My, what a charming little party this is.” While a more private, introverted person might have thought, “GAHHH!!!”
Regular readers of this blog know that I lean more toward the latter than the former, so perhaps you’re wondering why I have these parties to begin with? Truth be told, in the days leading up to the events, I wonder it myself. But the fact is, I enjoy them.
I especially enjoy them when they’re over.
Also, I think we introverts have an obligation to society to show how parties should be done. Because from the parties I’ve thrown and the parties I’ve attended, I’ve come to one inescapable conclusion: Introverts throw better parties.
That is because, as with all things, we overthink them.
As I was out and about this last weekend
enjoying enduring the holiday shopping madness, I couldn’t help but notice the variety of winter sleepwear available to women.
The reason I couldn’t help noticing is that Husband has an uncanny knack for parking by entrances leading straight into lingerie departments. It’s like some sort of weird psychic ability of his to know precisely where each store locates their underwear. I guess you could say it’s his superpower.
An amazing, yet completely unhelpful, superpower.
Anyway, I noticed that each article of sleepwear — regardless of its color or size — gave a very clear message. Or at least I thought the message was clear.
Don’t believe me? Here … let me show you: Continue reading “A Guide to Women’s Sleepwear, Winter Edition”
This last week, I lost my sunglasses. To fully understand the tragedy of this event, you must know that this was my favorite pair of sunglasses. They were stylish, lightweight, fit me perfectly, and were dark enough that if someone was talking to me, I could ignore them completely and they never knew. Oh, and they protected my eyes too.
Now they’re gone and I have to wear my back-up pair. Actually I have two back-up pairs. (I live in Phoenix, after all.) But neither pair is as nice as the pair I lost.
Well, maybe lost isn’t the correct word. I know exactly where they are.
They are wrapped in three plastic grocery bags, knotted twice, and sitting at the bottom of our garbage bin. Our outside garbage bin.
Here’s what happened …
Continue reading “Cleanliness is Next to Insanity. Also, a Review of Cat Litter.”
Husband and I took a little excursion this past weekend. We were going to yet another wedding and Husband had a meeting to attend, but we also wanted to relax and enjoy the small, mountain community in which we were staying.
Small mountain community. Sounds like the setting for a horror flick, doesn’t it?
You know, it’s always a treat to see what Husband’s deal-sleuthing will grant us. We’ve been in charming little bed and breakfast-like places, we’ve also been in five-star hotels with fantastic breakfast bars. It’s part of the thrill — you never quite know what you’re going to get.
When we walked into the lobby of this hotel, we saw a sign: “Please pardon our renovations. Thank you for visiting us!!!”
Hmm. Three explanation points. That should have been the tip-off.
Continue reading “Hotel Horror, With Complimentary Breakfast”
I’m sure there are certain things you’ve come to expect from Feeding on Folly — simple recipes, tips for living, an occasional jaunt down memory lane … and now we go and offer a DIY project too? Whoa!
Well, don’t get used to it. It’s true, Husband and I have tackled many a DIY project in our married life, which should prove to all the strength of our union, but the project I am about to share with you may well be our last. At least, we hope it will be our last.Embed from Getty Images
Don’t get me wrong, the project turned out well, we’re pleased with the result, and our marriage is still intact. That part is fine. But somehow when you reach that mid-century mark, covering yourself in sawdust and plaster just doesn’t hold the same appeal. Fortunately, our bedroom was the last room we had to tackle, and now it is done.
Continue reading “DIY: Creating a Restful Sleeping Chamber … AKA, Damnit, I Broke Another Nail!”
It was the hottest of times, it was the hungriest of times …
I stumbled upon a blog a few days ago, a charming blog from a charming man named Bruno, who lives in Belgium. You can find it here. If you visit it, one of your first thoughts will be, “What a charming blog!” Followed closely by, “He must be a charming man.” Speedily met with, “OH WOW, THAT LOOKS GOOD, I WANNA EAT THAT!”
Meanwhile, in my kitchen, it’s hot. Dang hot. Like, really hot. Did I tell you I live in Phoenix, Arizona? Granted, it only hit 109 that day. Practically balmy for Phoenix. But still. It’s hard to think about cooking dinner when the mercury level is triple digits.
Continue reading “A Tale of Two Kitchens”
Daughter left Monday for a Study Abroad trip to Prague. I’m excited for her, but also terrified out of my mind and wondering how in the world this ever came to be.
Let’s see … think back … it all began … Continue reading “She’s Leaving On a Jet Plane”
Have you ever seen books or articles telling you how to turn your yard into a backyard habitat? I have. I followed their steps. My yard now meets all the requirements for being a backyard habitat. The only thing I didn’t do was pay for the certificate. I’m cheap.
Anyway, what I’m here to tell you is that I’ve uncovered a downside to attracting wildlife to your yard. Namely, you will be attracting wildlife to your yard.
At first I was charmed by the creatures choosing to visit my yard. The feisty hummingbirds, the delicate butterflies, the bad-tempered sparrows who I suspected were lobbing F-bombs at the feisty hummingbirds. All of it was quite interesting, in a Discovery channel, nature-programmy kind of way.
Then my yard turned into a Mockingbird prenatal ward and my life was turned upside down. Continue reading “Mockingbird Tales … With Pie!”
The morning after Easter, I entered our kitchen and saw an unusually shaped loaf of bread on the counter. It was a cylinder, as many bread machine loaves are, but it clearly was not from a bread machine. This loaf was soft and delicate, and I’ve never met a bread machine that could accomplish that. Plus, it didn’t have the telltale hole in its bottom, where the dough hooks would have been.
Later in the day, I learned from Son that it was a gift from friends of ours. It was Blessed Bread. A priest had blessed it.
Son proceeded to tell me the guidelines, as they were told to him.
Basically, under no circumstance can we throw it out. We can give it away, offer it to a friend, a neighbor, a passerby on the street, but we cannot toss it. Not any portion of it. We can’t use half the loaf and toss the rest. In other words, under no circumstance should any portion of the bread be wasted.
My first reaction was deep, deep concern. Followed closely by panic. Continue reading “Give Us This Day Our Blessed Bread”