Thanksgiving Calories

How do you work off your extra calories from Thanksgiving week?

We went to three Thanksgivings, so we had a lot to work with.  Our preferred method every year is to be outside at Turkey Ridge, hiking around in tall grasses and all manner of prickly burr things, carrying a heavy load, being led around by dogs like Scooter.  It is awesome, invigorating, and I really just go to watch the dogs work – they’re the best.  And Scooter is my favorite (Never Ending Story reference, anyone?).  It also helps when you’re greeted with something like this in the morning:

grays peek

If I were hip enough to be on Instagram, I would be sure to tell you #nofilter.  But I’m not that hip, so don’t worry about it.  And here, for your viewing pleasure, is Scooter (and then the rest of our ugly mugs):

grays peek

grays peek

grays peek

Isn’t hunter orange a flattering color?  Also, if you fancy yourself a game cook, we have about 10 lbs of pheasant and chukar, but no quail, in the freezer that is free to a good home.

 

The Pioneer Woman IRL

Stop what you’re doing and read this Pioneer Woman post first.  After you’ve read that blogging marvel and been properly introduced to Ree Drummond and her ranch, you can continue reading my supremely sub-par post below.

It should be obvious to you why Ree had better watch her back (I could swoop in in a minute and drive a truck around with her basset hounds and cows – and throw Husband into a pair of chaps, to boot) after reading that.  Do yourself a favor and check out every part of her website – she renovates historic main street buildings, cooks up something fierce, and runs a cooking show.  There’s something for everyone!

It should also be obvious to you why I went to her book signing this week.   …No, you’re wrong.  I didn’t go to see Ree.  I went to get my friend’s cooking books signed because she couldn’t go herself.

grays peek

grays peek

Ree is well-known for being shy, awkward, and generally ill at ease in front of crowds or cameras.  So, it was fitting when she said a very few words to welcome the crowd to the signing.  So few words, in fact, that I didn’t even get a good photo of her.  She told us Hello, Welcome, Thanks for coming, I really REALLY can’t believe anyone came because it is Thanksgiving week, and if I keep talking for any longer my hands will start to shake, Thanks. Then she commenced the book signing.  As a fun treat, Ree’s daughters came with her.  They both look just like her, are both taller than me, and took the opportunity to slip through the crowd, so we all figured they had somewhere cooler to be than to hang out with their super cool mom.  Turns out, we were right.  They came back about an hour later with TJ Maxx bags!  You have to shop while the shopping is good, apparently (as it may not be in Oklahoma).

grays peek

I’d never been to a book signing before, and I had honestly never really even considered it.  I assumed there would be long lines and lots of standing around.  And I was right.  It was a zoo.  Miraculously, we were assigned Line Letter G.  This is way better than having H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, or Z.  And it was way better than it was for those fools who came and didn’t even have tickets.

grays peek

grays peek

grays peek

Waiting for those with VIP, A, B, C, D, E, and F tickets get finished getting their books signed and apparently telling Ree their entire life stories (how could it have taken 2.5 hours to get to letter G?), we had time to hang out in Joseph Beth.  Their employees who worked this event were amazing – they were super organized and in unbelievably good moods.  This is astounding to me because their jobs were to herd nearly 800 Pioneer Woman wannabees into lines all night.  Yikes.  Also, we got to enjoy the festive decorations and enjoy the smells of Bronte’s adaptations of Pioneer Woman recipes.

grays peek

grays peek

After all that waiting (I’ll spare you the other gory details), and all this reading, here is what you really came to see ^

Me, looking like a nutcase, crouching next to Ree Drummond.  Husband and I walked up there, snapped a photo, and chatted as you would expect.  I told her thanks for coming – doesn’t she have a lot of cooking to be doing?  Then I told her our next stop was dinner (Husband chimed in that he only came because he was promised dinner. Right.)  She asked where we were going.  PF Chang’s, I told her.  At this point, I think I lost her because either  1. she was heartbroken a fan of her’s would eat at a chain restaurant, or 2. she was super jealous of us because she had been signing books for almost three hours and had at least four more hours to go and was starving.   I shrugged off this awkward exchange and offered up that she and her girls should definitely grab some Yagööt if they needed a snack afterwards.  Then we left.

grays peek

grays peek

Our mission was accomplished and I got not one, but two books signed for mi amiga.  I’m astounded that Ree not only signed all those books, but she did so with two extra hearts on each one!  While smiling!  Holy hand cramp.  So, as I told Ree, we left the book store and made a beeline for PF Chang’s where I had a well-deserved beer.  About halfway through my beer I remember the worst thing that could have happened – I forgot to ask Ree how my namesake calf, Abigail, was doing!  Sigh.  I guess there’s always the next book signing.

grays peek

Sunday Sky

Sunday Sky

From the Overlook at Eden Park this week.

Santos the Ocelot

Have you ever seen a picture of a baby ocelot?

IRL OCELOT KITTEN!!!

I have, naturally.  Husband had not.

Note: This baby ocelot is #32 on BuzzFeed’s Cutest Things That Ever Happened list, as seen in full glory here.

Well, while the tornado/severe thunderstorm/slight breeze/rain sprinkle sirens were going off tonight I was entertaining myself between storm lines with photos like the one you see above.  I called my handsome Storm Chaser back from the windows and showed him that baby ocelot, which was accompanied by my added tidbit that the zoo currently has one of these on display, to which he fully shouted:

“Sonofabitch! [cuteness overload occurred at this point, I presume]  Just like that?  Let’s play hooky tomorrow and go see it!”

He was fully serious, and this is why I love him.  Though he probably definitely now hates me for posting this.

And to answer his question, yes, we have one at the zoo just like that – but cuter.  If this link is working correctly, this is where you can find photos of Santos, a baby ocelot at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Gardens.  He can be found in the Nursery, and this is his debut photo released by the zoo:

1394191_10151993623895479_1573140814_n

 

 

Leaks and things

This is a long story, and you should probably grab a beer before starting it.  I did.

Today was not a good day.  Actually, it all started last night: Husband is out of town and no one is keeping tabs on me, so I stayed up way past my bedtime reading HONY until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.  If you’ve somehow missed the awesomeness in the news this week about the existence of the HONY blog, definitely check it out – but only if you have approximately 6.7742 hours to spend on it.

Now, not having my normal amount of beauty rest, I found it favorable to hit the snooze button every nine minutes instead of getting out of bed this morning.  For an hour.  Being well behind schedule, I never even considered a shower and moved on to the more pressing problem of having not done a load of laundry in about three weeks.  With no clean under garments available, I started to dig deep in my drawer/pile of lady things.  Bottoms were easy enough, but finding a work-appropriate brassiere was more of a challenge.  I dug deep and finally found one that had last been worn so long ago I initially didn’t recognize it, deemed it marginally suitable for work, and threw on an outfit I was quite proud of for assembling so quickly.  Throwing my shirt over my head I headed for the mirror and wondered how I’d gotten the front of my shirt wet already (I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet…).

Turns out, my semi-suitable brassiere was a lovely push-up device that had sprung a leak.  Apparently this morning’s hurried jostling into place was too much for the tired item, having spent the last year or two lounging in the bottom of the pile.  Perfect.  I was living out an episode of Will and Grace at 7:30 in morning.  And not only was it a liquid leak, it was an oily/greasy leak.  What the hell, Vicky S?  The leak itself wasn’t the problem – it was the greasy stain that was now quickly growing on my favorite navy blue linen blouse like a Rorschach ink blot.  Off came the clothes, on went the pre-treat stain stick, in went extra detergent, and up went a prayer as I left the mess in the washing machine.

Relieved to have made it to work at this point, the chaos of the day and the co-worker clipping their fingernails one cube over seemed tolerable.  Then, I missed a call on my cell.  At this point I should mention I’ve been on jury duty since September 1.  During each day of my four-month long (FOUR) civic duty, each juror is supposed to call in to get the next day’s assignment of cases.  You might have noticed I’m wound fairly tightly and take my details fairly seriously, and would then infer that I’m pretty good about calling in, which I am.  I even set a phone alarm, yet somehow I missed my call-in on Monday.  Calling in every day? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Lo and behold, I have to report to jury duty tomorrow for the first time ever.  Awesome!  I can’t wait to sit crammed into a tiny chair next to strangers in a frigid court room all day when I have serious big people things to do at my job, which I happen to love.  Also, I pity the folks that rely on their peers for a jury trial; everyone and their brother can get out of jury duty at least once for work/health/childcare/transportation/travel/death of a pet reasons.  If you have none of these excuses, you are going to jury duty for entertainment and have absorbed most of your knowledge of crime and punishment from COPS and Monzel.   See Exhibit A, below.  The court takes jury duty so unseriously, they can’t even muster proper grammar in the instruction pamphlet!  Let me explain why I’m on jury duty right now.  I’m on jury duty because if you get excused, you get called right back in six months.  I figured I’d rip the bandaid right off.  Plus, the court closes from Christmas to NYE, so I was already guaranteed a free week by opting in.  [Side note:  I know jury duty is a big deal and I’m lucky we have juries composed of our peers, and so forth.  Thanks.]

grays peek

grays peek

Exhibit A

 

Anyway, I’ve got my Kindle charged and my low-sugar snacks and travel-size bedbug prevention kit all packed and ready to go for tomorrow.  Before you get too excited about my Friday field trip away from the office, though, remember back to that call I missed.  They were not only telling me I had to report tomorrow, but that I failed to report on Tuesday and was now in contempt of court.  They politely informed me that this was a courtesy call, and if I chose not to report tomorrow, they would send me a personal car and driver to bring me to court.  And I would be riding in the backseat.

Oh, and I just now found a full load of clothes in the dryer.  I was so tired this morning I forgot I did laundry earlier this week and had plenty of clean lady things.  The leaky bra episode was all so unnecessary.

Thursday, 1.  Me, 0.

 

 

Contact

Hello! Reach me at admin(at)grayspeek.com
November 2013
S M T W T F S
« Oct   Dec »
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930