Today's forecast, Partly Cloudy

I think that my husband is one of the funniest people I know. He's random, he has a dry sense of humor and more times than not he's just plain weird. He builds houses for a living and loves it, but I think that he missed his calling. Outside of being a model for I can't believe it's not butter, he should consider being a meteorologist. I have never seen someone be so obsessed with the weather. Our TV stays tuned to channel 18 (the local radar station) most of the time, he religiously tracks hurricanes with a tracking chart and he almost always knows what is going to happen and when as far as the weather goes. His new thing is he can access the weather radar and forecast from his cell phone, so now anytime, anywhere he can be alerted to upcoming weather happenings. Stay tuned for weather on the 9's with Meteorologist Matt Lawrence-it has a nice ring!!

Chop Your Face, Part II

Okay, so Matt & I have been chopping each other left and right for about a week now. The game has spread to others and it has brought joy to many families. Apparently, Matt Lawrence is the king of the game and can make up the rules as he goes. Yesterday, I greeted him with a chop in the neck, armed with my choppers at a perfect stance (3 and 7 on the clock) I was ready to be chopped back. At this point Matt looked at me and as matter of fact as I've ever seen him he said, "I'm not receiving chops today."
"Obviously you can't not receive a chop if I've already chopped you," I replied.
He firmly said, "Yes I can, I just did. Not receiving chops today."
And so the chops died. There was no more chopping the rest of the day and there haven't been any since. I'm sure there will be something else, but until then, I'll miss you chops where ever you are being received...

Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail

Hopping down the bunny trail, hippity, hoppity, Easter's on it's way. Except last night I ate the Easter Bunny! Apparently, when I married Matt I took him directly out of the woods and he hasn't quite adapted yet. Wednesday it rained so he went to his boss's camp for the day and low and behold he brought me back a rabbit. A dead rabbit. Part of my wifely duties is to cook the food that my man has so graciously provided for our family. With his help and many tears later (I actually cried most of the time I was cooking it) it turned out alright. It wasn't the worst thing I've ever eaten, but it wasn't anything I'll crave. I will say we made a mean gravy (watch out Mother-In-Law, I'm catching up). As we enter lent and the arrival of the Easter bunny in awaited by many children, I apologize. The Easter Bunny is no longer with us-he's in my belly!!

Control Journals

A couple of years ago I was introduced to a cult. I'm not afraid to call it a cult because I really can't think of another name for it. I am a proud member of the flylady network. Flybabies (your title upon joining) are a group of thousands of women and a sprinkle of some men (kind of unfortunate for them) that take part in the Flylady system. This is a miracle way to keep your house clean and organize your life. It has it's own lingo, website, there's even a special feather duster. Part of the system is developing a Control Journal. A Control Journal is what houses your daily routines, important phone numbers, if you're an avid flybaby it contains your life basically. I'm a dork I know.

Anyway, I have brought the use of the Control Journal into the organization of events here at The View. As I sit at my desk I'm abnormally proud of my latest Control Journal. I've scattered pictures, bulletted lists, and assigned tasks. Sometimes I impress myself.

Chop Your Face

Monday night I was minding my own business, watching an exciting episode of Couples Fear Factor. As I was trying to convince Matt that we could do that if they wouldn't make me eat anything gross, be trapped in anything, make me stay under water (also a form of trapping), or jump off of a really tall building, he out of no where, "chopped me in the neck". This chop was much like a karate chop except it didn't hurt and nothing was broken in half. This ensured a night full of chopping each other. The only rule is you have to say, "chop you in the...fill in where you are chopping..." It really is kind of fun except when he chopped me in the nose and I thought it was broken. Just wait until he gets hit by, "triple chop you in the face".