Sausage In Australia Makes Me Sappy

To be sung to the tune of John Denver's "Sunshine on my Shoulder".

I've missed sausage. "Sausage" here is like a not-so-tasty hotdog on steroids. My life has been sadly lacking Jimmy Dean for over a year now. Do you know what that can do to a person (other than unclog their arteries)? So imagine my surprise when, at our Breast Cancer Brekky, I tasted ground sausage in one of the breakfast casseroles. I had to polish off the plate just for confirmation, but sure enough, ground sausage!

After being pointed in the right direction, I hit the butcher before Thanksgiving, in search of my sausage. There it was, in the corner refrigerated cabinet.

Labeled "American Sausage".

It sounds like a movie. If "American Sausage" were a movie, it would probably be a raunchy comedy. Or maybe it would be one of those stupid America is a war-hungry, world-dominating, self-serving country movies.

But that's a whole other thing.

Thanksgiving morning brought with it the beautiful smell of sizzling sausage. We had a bit for breakfast and used the rest in my new, not-so-good-not-so-bad, stuffing recipe. Mediocre, despite the sausage.

And I cried. Sausage made me cry. The scent whacked me in the gut with the force of a heavy-weight boxer. It made me feel homesick and sorry for myself.

But it also forced me into a more festive, Christmasy (and yes, in my family that's a word) mood. Because, let's face it, it's hard to be festive in sunny, 100 degree weather. So I became thankful for that sweet smell of sausage.

And I was hooked.

I went back to the butcher and bought $23 worth of sausage sliced into patties. Yesterday we had sausage sandwiches. This morning we had sausage, egg and cheese burritos. Tomorrow I'm sure we'll have sausage butt. Which means all the sausage we've eaten will go straight to our butts.

Speaking of festive moods and things we are thankful for...Thanksgiving was spent cooking, cleaning, eating and unpacking Christmas stuff. I knew that throwing in the tree was taking on a lot, but I needed all the mood boosting I could get.

Besides...the kids were bugging the crap out of me.

When the tree was up, lights on, popcorn strung and draped, we set in on the ornaments. Our tree is smaller here and last year we had a hard time fitting all of our ornaments on. So I left a few off.


Grace unwrapped all of the ornaments - that was her favorite part. Cole and Brady put them on the tree - the bottom half. I re-distributed according to tree gaps. But since we have ample ornaments, the tree quickly became gapless, weighed down and begging for mercy. In short, it's bursting and beautiful.


As the kids grow older and more aware, they have started with the "Is this my ornament?" question. Which took us on a long walk down memory lane...my walk being a bit longer than theirs.


The problem is, I find it difficult to get rid of any ornaments...ever. Even the cheap crappy ones remind me of my first Christmases on my own. Each holds special memories. I can remember buying beautiful, matching, expensive ornaments from Christmas Around the World. Then I can remember buying inexpensive, shiny ornaments in the same color scheme to help fill out the tree. I had to save money but still coordinate. Christmas Around the World was not cheap.

Then there are those from when Jason and I first married. Thus began a tradition where my wonderful Mother-In-Law (hi Mom) began buying us annual ornaments. And she made sure that each was signed with her name and the year on the back along with some X's and O's...because she loves us.


Then we added to the family. Not once, but three times. And they also receive ornaments annually from Grammy. And of course we began our own tradition of picking out one each every year to decorate with. Then we add on the occasional ornament I run across and just "have to have".

That leaves us with many, many ornaments. But instead of being stressed by the amount like last year, I found myself saddened that, one day, I will have to give them up. I began looking forward, instead of backward, to the time when our children will leave. And on their first Christmas away, I'll have to sit alone and divide our ornaments in order for them to start their own tree, their own traditions. Surely I'll cry and curse the speed of the passing years. Or maybe I'll have glass of wine and toast a job well done. Either way, it will be bittersweet.

And eventually I'll have to give up at least 3/4 of those suckers.

So this year, I looked at our ornament stash and smiled at the years behind us and the years ahead. I remembered where each ornament came from and envisioned where it would eventually end up.



And I stuffed the hell out of that tree!

Stuffing turkey butts and Christmas trees, wishing we could have been with you this Thanksgiving,
Angie

The Outback

In Wonderland

Injured.



Inane.



Independent.



In Cognito.



In the picture?



OK, so I'm good but not that good.

And let's be honest, it's not easy to get a picture of Cole. He's like the wind.

But I'm like Martha.

Well, I would be if Martha cooked with Betty-in-a-Box.



By the way, Jason isn't really hurt. Or at least any head issues he has wouldn't be helped with an Ace bandage.

Love to all,
Alice

A Superb Christmas Performance

Notice that we didn't dress up. Last year we were a bit overdressed. This year there were actually a few girls in dresses. They get crazy with the celebration here in Alice.

Mary and Joseph. A striking couple, don't you think?





All in all our evening was great.

Chicken Fried

No pics tonight! Sorry, just a few random thoughts and updates about, you guessed it...ME!

So ask me how proud I am of myself right now! Go on, ask!

How proud are you? you ask? Well let me tell you! Tonight I was able to accomplish something for the first time ever. Something I've attempted in the past but never succeeded at. It's bugged me for years. I've felt a void. A sense of inability that has stuck with me throughout my married life.

I confess...I've never been able to fry chicken.

But tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I actually fried chicken legs for my family that were not burnt on the outside nor bloody in the middle. (Well, the second batch didn't really count - the oil had gotten a little hot so they were browner than I (meaning Jason) would have preferred - but they were edible).

Yes, I have done it. And my success brought with it a form of pride, the likes of which I have never known.

How sad is that?

Unfortunately, along with pride it brought with it a very messy kitchen and an oily, chicken fried smelling house. But sometimes sacrifices must be made.

On another note. For those of you who don't know, I had an appointment yesterday with the traveling Orthopaedic MD. I say "traveling" because there is no Orthopaedic MD in Alice Springs, so once every couple of months, a couple of these guys will fly in from Darwin or Sydney to see us poor soles who live in the Timbuktu of Australia.

There is good news and bad news that came with my meeting. I prefer to concentrate on the good news but I'll give y'all the bad news first. The bad news...I probably never really needed either of my two knee surgeries. They resulted from two surgeons who thought my swelling and pain issues probably/maybe could be attributed to mechanical issues in my knee. Since the swelling still had not left my knee three months after surgery, and since we knew the surgery was successful and there were no further signs of complications, we decided to take a closer look.

The first step to taking a closer look meant draining the fluid from my knee. Unsure if any of you have had this done before. If not, good for you. If any of you have, you can attest...it ain't fun.

The worst part isn't the actual draining. No the worst part is setting eyes on the size of the needle they use.

Why do we have to look? It's like trying to catch a glimpse of a bad car accident. You know you really don't want to see but you rubber neck and slow traffic up anyway.

And aside from the needle that looks like a turkey baster, having them stick the smaller needle way down into the heart of your knee to administer something for the pain isn't my idea of good time.

But after three months of swelling, I'm past the point of caring. I just want that nasty stuff out of my knee. And (believe it or not) my excitement is building. Just a little more to go, a bit more and then...

Uh-oh! Dry tap.

What the hell now? What do you mean there is no fluid on my knee? Why, then, is it the size of a rockmellon (aka cantaloupe)?

Well, here's where we get to the good news. We now have new information! I didn't have fluid on my knee all this time. I had a condition called Synovitis, or some such. It's inflammation of the lining in my knee. This is indicative of some sort of arthritic issue, not mechanical.



What you talkin' 'bout Willis?




(Ok - so I had to throw that one pic in.)

So, although I'm frustrated that I probably had two unnecessary surgeries, I now (hopefully) am on track to finding out the actual problem.

Can I get an Amen?

Amen. Thank you.

So next I'll have a battery of blood tests done to test me for everything from Lyme Disease to Erectile Disfunction.

Just seeing if you were paying attention.

Lastly on my list tonight, an update on those three smart, most wonderful and lovable, big pains in the arse children we proudly call ours . In two "sleeps" time, Gracie will portray Mary in her pre-school Christmas program. Brady is running a fever tonight and "really, really" wishes her Mom would learn how to braid her hair. And Cole has defeated all opponents on his Avatar game using a combination of Air Bender, Earth Bender, Water Bender and Fire Bender combat attacks.

All's well and normal on the home front.

Love to all,
A

Blog Thumbing

Blog Thumbing - Continuous accessing of new blogs through blogroll clicking.

Or some such.

That's an Angie term.

You should try it sometime. It's an easy way to waste a few hours of your day.

Just check out someone's blogroll and click away.

That's how I found Gitzen Girl.

I believe there are certain people put on this earth with problems, illnesses and issues to inspire others and help us all to recognize and count our blessings in life.

She is one of those people.

If you can find the time, read her story and some of her posts. Guaranteed to give you a more pleasant outlook on life!

Spreading the love,
A

Photos From the Car

Gracie took this one.


And I took this one.


She needs to brush.

And before we passed out from the heat, I took this one.



And yes, despite the dust and dirt (it's the glue that holds our truck together) , you can see that the temperature thingy is registering 105 F.

Your eyes are not playing tricks on you.

To be completely honest though, it only registers that high when the truck is sitting. When we're moving it registers lower. It only registers this when we're driving around:



Whew! And here you thought we lived in an oven.

Excuse me while I wring out my socks.

A

The Man In Her Life

Little girls love their fathers. As a friend and I were discussing earlier today, the love for a Father is very different than the love for a Mother.

Momma's get a you'll do anything for me/wipe my ass/I can never commit a sin kind of love.

Poppa's get more of a worshiping love.


Face it ladies. Men have a way of making you feel like loving them is cool. Like you want to be in their club. You want to be down like that. Hip like that. It's the same whether we are daughters, girlfriends or wives.

From your first boyfriend in Kindergarten to the man you agree to marry, girls are blinded by male perfection.

Or should I say sucked in by our misperception of male perfection?

It starts with our Father and moves on to other men as our life goes on.

I'm not saying little girls don't love their Mommas. I mean, what's not to love in a Momma? We're the ultimate in care-taking. We're just not as cool as a Poppa.

Poppa's can be harsh speaking and way tougher than us Moms. But despite the fact that Momma's are generally the ones to nurse them through their sick all-nighters, wipe their snotty noses and cook most of their meals...


we still can't quite measure up.


But I'm not bitter or anything!


Feeling a decided lack of appreciation,

Angie

Gasp, Wheez, Choke!

A day in the life of a dust storm in Alice Springs.

The "it" Words and Other Brady Things.

You can double click to get a closer look but I'll save you the time. That says "My arm pit". It's not actually a sentence though is it? I mean she could have added "is smelly" or "itches" to the end.

Noun and verb. Subject and Predicate. Or some such.

And with this one I'm picking up a pattern. Ya think?



I guess she'd have to be a real goofball to draw anything else seeing that there was a high of 104 today and no clouds in the sky.

It just proves she's a logical thinker despite the heat and dehydration.

And lastly...


Mrs. Guzman's Transition class - 2008 swim training. The little red head in front is ours.

She seems real smart until she decides to make the drowning signal in water that only goes up to her shoulders.

Goofball.

Mother of the year,
A

PS - Hey, I'm on a roll. What the hell? Might as well check back tomorrow!

What I Have In Common With High-Class Hookers

It's not the money.

It's not the looks.

It's a love of fine lingerie.





Breast Cancer Brekky at one of My Girl's houses.



Sporting sexy bras and fightin' booby bumps,
Angie

PS - Make sure to check back tomorrow!

The Wee Hour Walkabout

Walkabout - Australian for going on a walking trip.

We're nothing if not crazy.

Us Cavanaghs, we know how to have a good time.

But I think this time the rain made us a bit giddy. You see, we can count on one hand the number of times we've seen rain here.

That was up until a couple of weeks ago. A couple of weeks ago, everything got wild. It started to rain. We've had rain off-and-on for the past two weeks. It's so refreshing.

So our Todd River (the one that runs through the city) is normally dry. As is shown here with this photo of Cole. He's standing in the middle of a dry Todd River.


Please ignore the fact that he looks a bit like a special needs child. Meaning no offense of course. I think it has something to do with the position of his legs.

But I digress.

So, low and behold, we receive a call from our neighbor Friday night. The Todd River is flowing...yes, flowing. And the bridges are closed.

Well, you must understand. People here ask you all the time "have you seen the river flow". And we have to say no. It's obviously the "thing" here to see the river flow. There is even a saying that if you see the river flow 3 times, you're considered a local and will be here for good. Or some such.

As if.

Meaning no offense of course. I mean it my Australian friends. I love your country. But I love mine more. And I'm just a bit homesick.

But I digress.

So when Jason came to bed at 2:00 Friday night/Sat morn, we got to talking about how it stunk that it was the middle of the night and we weren't getting to see the Todd River flow.

Then it hit us...we could go now!!

So this is my family at 2:30 am after being dragged from their cozy beds to "go on an adventure".


This is my family walking down the street...at 2:35 in the morning.





And here's our flooded bridge.






And the river runs!




And it was quite obvious that the southern never leave the house without makeup motto doesn't apply to a wee hour walkabout. I didn't look too good.



I probably had some serious halitosis going on too!

Live from Alice Springs,
A

PS - I happen to have it on good authority that there will be another post tomorrow! Check back!

The Alternative

38.

38 and counting.

Two more years before I hit the big 4-0! Life gets to be so boring at 38.


I mean, what is there to do? How much fun can you really have?





And at 38 your looks have just gone to pot.



And you lose all sense of playfulness in your late 30's.



And you're not likely to make new friends at 38. You're pretty much set with your old ones.


Life, seriously, is just no fun anymore.

But I suppose it's better than the alternative.

Happy Birthday to me!


Making the most of each and every year,

A

A Happy Happy Halloween

Number of plates of food eaten between the 3 Cavanagh children on Halloween.......1/3.

Number of pieces of candy eaten between the 3 Cavanagh children on Halloween........697. And 1/2.

Blue Morpho Butterfly Wings - 2 hrs to make...total wear time, 5 minutes. Only to be found again during cleanup.




The Tooth Fairy




Those wings lasted about 20 minutes. Also only to be found again during cleanup.

Then there was Commander Cody from Star Wars. The force was with him. The force of feet funk.


That was the only photo I was able to obtain of the allusive Commander Cody. He's a sly one.

The crowd:



Me in the crowd:


I realized the other day that if anything should ever happen to me, my children will never really know what I looked like. I'm always the photographer in the photographer/photographed relationship. I like to be in charge.

Sorry. Didn't mean to get all heavy and serious. Of course nothing will be happening to me anytime soon. No sirree. I'm here for the duration.

If only to make Jason miserable.

Speaking of...here's Jason and a friend camping out beside the "blue cooler". Hmmmm...wonder just what kind of goodies were in the "blue cooler"? I can't imagine.


And to finish it off, I'll leave you with this. The stars from the upcoming movie...

Scooby Doo 3...Case of the missing wings.

Hope you all had a wonderful Halloween!!!

Scaring the bejeezus out of people everywhere,
Halloween or not,
A