Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Walnuts dying in the flood.

Today we celebrate the life of an old friend.

It was almost twenty years ago that a rosy faced, six year old girl sat in class. With the supplies in front of her she was presented a task: to make a Christmas ornament. She cut with her safety scissors and glued with her Elmer's creating what was quite possibly the greatest Christmas ornament ever. She made Walnut Santa.

With his cotton ball beard and his Crayola eyes of bright blue (b/c everyone knows that Santa is a W.A.S.P.) Walnut Santa hung proudly on the tree, year after year.

After Christmas of 2006 Walnut Santa was wrapped tight in his paper towel and packed up for a year of rest. Sadly he was not given the chance to grace the tree in 2007 b/c Sarah's parents were too lazy to put up the tree.

Walnut Santa closed his eyes to a long winter's nap in 2006 and opened them to God in 2008. Sadly his life was cut short at the young age of 19 when he was destroyed by the flooding of Tim and Nan Hadley's baesement. We mourn the passing of our close friend, but celebrate the life he had. He brought joy to so many and sat proudly on the Hadley's Christmas tree for many years. He will be missed.

R.I.P. Walnut Santa

I Sing the Body Infected

My finger is messed up. My right index finger to be more exact. Friday afternoon it started to hurt, y'know like when something pokes you under your nail? The only thing is that I don't recall anything poking me (that's what she said). I think it all really went south when I had my manicure on Saturday followed by a pool party with my niece. Now it's infected. Swollen, pussy, tender.....infected. They might have to take the finger (this is me being dramatic). Luckily I made a Doctor's appointment tomorrow for unrelated reasons. Two birds with one stone I suppose.

So if I am an amputee next time you see me please don't point and stare. You can stare, but pointing would just be a mocking cruelty.

It just got a little pitchy for me, Dawg.

The finale of American Idol was last night. Almost one hundred million votes were cast....ONE HUNDRED MILLION. Hopefully I don't need to explain what's wrong with that situation.

But I will remind you about the time I had the PG13 dream about Simon Cowell. =)

UGH.

**Insert Homoerotic Rap Lyrics Here**

Outing Hip-Hop
In a new memoir, a former MTV staffer dishes on the rap industry's persistent "down-low" culture. He doesn't name names, but it's a fascinating peek inside hip-hop's last taboo.

http://www.newsweek.com/id/137380

Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't

Let's talk about Apples.

Apples are great. I really like Apples. Over the years Apples have been seen in many different forms: Pied, Candied, Raw, Rotten. You name it and Apples have probably been there. In an attempt to make the Apple better, it has been paired with several things over the years. Perhaps one of the most significant is Peanut Butter...or so Peanut Butter would like to think.
Different dips have come and gone but peanut butter has always been there. Packed in lunches, presented at gatherings or just quietly enjoyed at home, Peanut Butter has been faithful. Now the history of the Apple is no secret. We've all heard the stories about the Lemon Juice and gossiped about the long term love affair with Caramel. Peanut Butter's heard it all......Peanut Butter doesn't care. Peanut Butter knows there's something different about Apple.

But that's all in the past. Let's fast forward to the now...... Fruit Dip. Yeah, we all know about Fruit Dip. It's creamy and delicious, how could any Apple resist? The coupling of Apple's tart, healthy goodness with the sinful sweetness of cream cheese and marshmallow creme is almost undeniable....... Fruit Dip. Peanut Butter's worst nightmare realized.

Peanut Butter is classic! Peanut butter and Apples go way back. They have history. So maybe Peanut Butter is a little chunkier than the blended mess that is Fruit Dip...... some people prefer Chunky to Smooth. Y'know, it's not like Peanut Butter doesn't have other successful venues to navigate. I mean there's always Jelly. But it's just not the same.......

Peanut Butter has a long shelf life. Let's all hope the Apples figure out what's good for 'em before it's too late.

This post is partly about Wal-Mart, so you might just want to hang yourself now.

Wednesday nights is choir practice. Typically I don't eat dinner before I go (just a snack, or 2, or 5) so by the time it's over (8:30ish) I'm pretty hungry. This usually results in me stopping at the grocery store for some lovin'.

Well tonight I decided to take advantage of Wal-Mart's low low prices!! I'll skip over the things that consistently blow about Wal-Mart, b/c you've all been there and you already know.Tonight's visit was pleasant. I scammed on some guys with my "I'm so beautiful/fabulous I just drifted into this place" look; it was good. I made a vane attempt to play the "what are all these processed foods and where do I find my sprouts?" card, but that scenario flew out the window once I loaded the Blue Bell pint and Tia Rosa chips into the basket. Maybe next time. The trip was topped off nicely by the tall drink in the green shirt. He chatted on his cell phone (with his grandmother I presume) and carried a jug of milk (insert 'Milk, it does a body good' joke here)


Since I was at choir I recorded America's Next Top Model on my VCR. Now if you'll excuse me...

The 75 things every man should know how to do:

This is fabulous. A must read for both sexes (don't worry it's not long.....or porn)

http://www.esquire.com/features/essential-skills-0508

I sing the body Electric, I celebrate the me yet to come

So I just got back from the gym and I'm floating somewhere in that realm of caffeine headache and dillusion. Whenever I come to this place I start thinking how much I wished I looked like Heidi Klum (or atleast had her body) and then I convince myself that it's totally possible....I just have to do a few more crunches...... tomorrow. Somebody pass me a Diet Coke.

Bitch stole my silver snake skin bikini.

The follies of my youth

I often compare the things kids do today to the things my brothers and I did when we were younger. It really is amazing how times have changed in just the last 20 years. I realize that I had a slightly unconventional upbringing. We weren't gypsies or anything (I wish), but by the time I, the third child, came along my parents were...let's just say...slightly more lax than maybe they should have been.

So today I give you a list. A list of things that were totally normal to me as a kid. Here, in no particular order, is a rundown of things that today would get me and my brothers taken away by CPS.

#1 Bike Riding. We used to ride our bikes everywhere....and I do mean everywhere. When I was about 8 or 9 we used to ride our bikes to the Dairy Queen on 19th and Frankford (we lived at 30th and Chicago) and play the memory game. We also used to ride to Putt Putt at 29th Drive and Brownfield and collect the golf balls that people had hit outside the course. Over the years we gathered a nice little collection. When I was ten I would leave my house at 11 in the morning (b/c I had to watch The Price is Right while I ate my cereal) and I wouldn't come back until dark. DARK! There was no cell phone, no low-jack....my parents just let me go.

#2 Hide and go SHOOT. Yes......shoot. I know parents today that won't even say the word "gun" around their kids, let alone let them have one for a toy. Our guns looked real and sounded real. There was a pretty large group of us within a 5 block radius that would get together and play hide and go seek....with guns. It worked a little bit more on the honor system, b/c in order to "tag" someone all you had to do was have good aim. Needless to say I "missed" my brothers quite a bit...or so they'd say.

#3 Playing on the roof. We got the ladder out and used the drain pipe/basketball goal to boost ourselves up on the roof. From there we would use--you guessed it--our guns to "shoot" passing cars. Are you kidding me? Why didn't we fall off and break something? It probably would've served us all right. I also seem to remember us throwing water grenades at anything we thought we could hit...including the neighboors dog......

#4 The next door neighboors dog! This thing was a beast. You know the dog in Sandlot? Yeah. This dog hated us almost as much as it's owner did. The husband was friendly, the wife.....not so much. To this day she still doesn't like my brother Matthew. That could have something to do with the way we treated her dog. I guess they thought it was a good idea to build it's house in the corner of our adjoining fence. We'd step foot in our backyard and that dog would hang halfway over the fence, mouth foaming, and scream at us. It was so much more than a bark....so much more. My brothers would throw rocks at it. I remember just standing, stairing at it. Silently mocking it. At one point my mother put me on a dairy free diet which provided me with little juice boxes of soy milk. I hated it, I wouldn't drink it. So what else are you gonna do with your sisters unused soy milk boxes? We shot them at the dog. We stuck the straw in the carton....and squeezed.

#5 Rated R movies. I have been to adult themed movies where parents have brought their children. Scoff! What are they thinking? Don't they know you're supposed to corrupt your kids in the privacy of your own home? When I was six my Papa babysat us. He quickly fell asleep in the recliner, and my brothers quickly took advantage of this situation. We watched Friday the 13th and it scared the six year old crap out of me. My closet light was burnt out that night, so I had to sleep in the dark. Terrifying. When I was not much older we watched The Terminator...the whole family sat down and watched The Terminator. My brothers teased me and told me Arnold was going to come kill me b/c my name was Sarah (they assured me that it didn't matter that our last name wasn't 'Connor'...he'd find me anyways) I was too young to make the distinction between Hollywood and real life. I lived in fear for months. Then there was the time that I begged Matthew to teach me how to braid my "My Little Pony"s hair. He agreed, but only if we could watch Commando. Commando is Rated R for strong violence, language and nudity...I couldn't have been more than 8. We watched Predator, regularly....perhaps my mother's judgement was skewed by her intense love for Arnold Schwarzenegger....

All things considered, I think we turned out pretty well.

Cross over children. All are welcome. All welcome.

Hello Everyone!

I am pleased to debut my new blogging home! The days of MySpace blogging are (mostly....hopefully) OVAH!

Thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to actually read my blogs over the years. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. I promise there is more to come, but for now I must follow the beat of my heart.....to the Flea Market.

The limonada and pan is calling my name. The "hot" merchandise needs a home and I've got a wad of ones in my purse that are begging to be spent on a bootlegged movie. So I'm off! I will see you all soon (I hope).