But I digress. This time, I opened the door and stood there, dumbfounded and gawking.

Standing in front of me is a mountain of red Norwegian wool. And some fur on the top. All I could see was her nose.

HB: Mother of God, its Mrs. Clause. What the hell are you wearing?

She lumbers into the house. Two mittened hands reach up towards the fur and try to pull the hood back, but without fingers she just manages to flail the fur collar around while I watch in total horror at the state of my gene pool.

After a full five minutes of flailing, I hear a distant shriek – Help me!

I wrestle the hood off her head, and the static charge reaches epic proportions – her grey hair stands straight up off her head.

I contemplated the most recent dog bell incident – and the insanity that has ensued the last twelve times she’s rung my doorbell and I couldn’t help myself. I shuffled my slippers across the carpeted floor towards her, and reached out to touch the end of her little red nose.

*SNAP*

QB: You little shit, what did you do that for?

HB: You deserve it for that outfit, have I taught you nothing? What size is it??

QB: Its size Shut Up and Get Me Some Static Guard. This fur collar is generating some sort of electrical charge every time I put it on.

HB: Its God’s way of telling you its hideous and shouldn’t be worn.

QB: Do you like my muff?

HB: Mom, you need to never ever say that – and don’t Google it either.

Let me explain to you about the weather here in the Godforsaken Arctic Tundra. We have three temperatures – Almost Freezing, Freezing, and Freezing Your Ass Off. I find the older I get, the more it pisses me off that we live here – but never the less I do try to construct a tasteful look from Gore-Tex and polar fleece.

My mother however has taken a less fashionable route. I don’t care where the parka is made and by who, she looks like she’s wearing a sleeping bag, fur-trimmed.

QB: My new criteria for clothes. Its gotta be big. Its gotta be thick. Its gotta be long.

HB: Dear God, please tell me you’re still talking about polar fleece?

And so, the story ends – with the be-flanned red beast shuffling out the door, yelling over her shoulder…”The matching pack boots are on order!”

This is going to be a long winter folks.

We went on a mission – a candle that will mask dog farts for my office, and a mini-hand lotion for Queen B’s purse. Heavy duty hand lotion because we live in the Godforsaken Arctic Tundra – no concern about greasy after-effect here, she would like something with the consistency of lard, and a better smell so that the dog quits licking her hands.

(She said she ran out of lotion two weeks ago, and I am sorry to report that I believe she’s using butter-flavored Crisco).

(I know this because she’s gone the Crisco route before. She read somewhere that it was good for cracked heels so she put it on her feet and then put wool socks on before bed. As the story goes, Dad put his back out by vaulting over the footboard into bed after seeing the can of Crisco on her nightstand.)

But I digress. Back to Bed Bath and Beyonce. After about five minutes of candle sniffing, we were high as kites and headed towards the back to look for lotion.

Standing shoulder to shoulder in front of a shelf of Brown Sugar and Vanilla scented lotions, Queen B. gives the tester a hearty pump and ends up with an overly generous pile of runny lotion in her hand.

QB: Oh gross, its watery – stick your hand out, I don’t want this much.

HB: <hands behind back> Hell no, I hate that scent. And it looks like semen.

QB: What are you, two? Give me your hands, I’ve got too much lotion! It smells great, nothing like semen.

HB: Omg Mom, have you smelled semen?? Wait – don’t answer that.

During this exchange, my mother is standing with a handful of lotion in one hand, the tester in another, and her purse hanging on her elbow. (And her new red parka which is another post that will be forthcoming, dedicated to Godforsaken Arctic Tundra Fashion Don’ts.)

QB: This is a different smell, its one you like.

HB: You don’t know what scents I like!

Queen B. then lifts her hand to her face to smell the lotion, no doubt in a mothering-reflex where you pretend to enjoy something so that your child will like it. Unfortunately she stuck her nose IN the lotion.

QB: Get over here. Get it off me! I have semen on my nose, get it off me! Get help, get a Kleenex!

So I run over to the sink and grab a paper towel, and being the helpful daughter that I am, I do a quick downward maneuver to get the semen lotion off my mother’s nose. However, I temporarily forgot that the anatomy below your nose is your mouth and rubbed the lotion across her mouth. And because the lotion did kind of smell like vanilla, she reflexively stuck her tongue out and licked her lips.

QB: Ahhh – ged it eff! Ah gad themen on my wips!

Being the helpful daughter I am, I immediately bent over laughing. (Side note – beans are cheap, and organic.) The unfortunate reaction to bending over was a change in intra-abdominal pressure and an accidental discharge of 100% organic gas.

Queen B. hears the discharge and starts to laugh, because the accidental discharge was unfortunately aimed directly at the unsuspecting teeny bopper in the Bath and Booby Works apron who had come to assist.

Queen B’s snort also resulted in more lotion up her nose, and she starts to gag.

Teeny Boobs: Can I help you find anything?

HB: <eyes averted> No thanks, we’re good!

I grabbed my mother’s arm and dragged her out of the store – we recovered with two coffees and scone. We’ve never liked that stupid store – who names a store Beyond Bath Works anyway?

So we decided to make our own vanilla. If Ethyl can make vanillin, so can we! And we’ll save tons of money!!

#1 – Buy vodka. As it turns out, newly-voted-member of the mission committee at church Queen B. hunkers down next to the floorboards of the truck, while Honey purchases two fifths of their best vodka. Current savings: -$34

#2 – Buy vanilla beans. Go to Good Food Store and purchase $28 of organic vanilla beans from Madagascar, along with various all-natural supplements to assist with weight-loss, and glass bottles (no doubt organic, because they’re in the Good Food Store) to put the vanilla in. Followed by lunch special of tofu egg salad made with vegan-aise, organic hokey-pokey, dried apricots from the bulk section, and a bag of raw milk cheese curds that were eaten while shopping. Current savings: -$136

#3 – drive to Queen B’s house because she has the tools – funnels, kitchen shears, and homemade brownies – in Honey’s 13 miles-to-the-gallon truck. Stop for gas on the way. Current savings: -$170

#4 – Sample the vodka for freshness. This involves closing all the blinds so that any other members of the church mission committee don’t witness it.

The church mission committee

#5 – Bottle the vodka with 4 vanilla beans in each jar until we run out of beans. What do we do with the extra vodka?

#6 – Sample a little more vodka, to celebrate our frugality and good sense to make our own vanilla. Toast the impending ruin of the propylene glycol farmers. We could probably sell our vanilla on Etsy. Toast our future success as entrepreneurs.

#7 – After some toasts, Queen B. admits that she was known for her vodka fruit shooters in college, and would like to pass down the traditional recipe for future generations.

#8 – Out comes the blender, and the perfecting of the recipe ensues. Oh Honey we really shouldn’t let this vodka go to waste, besides, we need to drink all the evidence before your father comes home. 

#9 – First try at fruit shooters. This is good stuff, but we need more pineapple juice.

#10 – Second try at fruit shooters. This is seriously yum, next batch needs more orange juice

#11 – Third try at fruit shooters. OMG this stuff is frickin’ amazing, add more vodka!

#12 – After six tries, we have the recipe just the way Queen B. thinks she remembers it.

#13 – Dad (Left Brain) calls on his way home from work, Queen B. gets the giggles and hands the phone to Honey who tells him to pick up Chinese because we’re too drunk to get anywhere near the stove to cook. Current savings: -$212

Bonus Feature: Queen B’s Perfected Fruit Shooter beverage, circa 1977.
Quantities are a little fuzzy, but we’re sure this is very close:

• Half a can of frozen orange juice consentrate (although orange-mango or Orange-pineapple can be substituted)
• 1 fifth of vodka
• Coconut extract
• 1 can of pineapple chunks in juice
• Ice cubes
• Lots of little plastic swords
• Maraschino cherries (optional)

Pour your preferred quantities of OJ, vodka, and pineapple chunks in juice into the blender. Add a couple drops of coconut extract and ice, and blend until frothy. Stab pineapple chunks and cherries with plastic swords and add to the drink – if they land on the floor just throw them in anyway, the vodka will kill all the germs. Drink with a straw for additional effect (sucking all the vodka off the bottom).

Note – Change of business plan from Queen B. and Honey’s Etsy store – scratch selling vanilla extract, we’re going to sell frozen fruit shooter kits. This stuff is awesome!

PS – We were going to take a picture of what we did, Pinterest-style, but Queen B. wouldn’t get off the floor – she had her face plastered to the sliding glass door that had snow on the other side, trying to get rid of the gin blossoms before we took a picture, where she fell asleep.

Its a very high-census ICU that has some majorly sick patients (hem/onc) which should be incredibly challenging. I’ve never worked intensive care – I’ve worked trauma surgery and on a step-down unit, but ICU is a whole new game for me. I’ve always said that my best days as a nurse could be described as hair-raising, but now that I think about it, I was young in those days and I drank a lot…lol

Passing the time waiting for a trauma case!

But anyway – I bought navy blue scrubs in size Tent and more of my favorite Smartwool socks, dug my white Birkenstocks out of the closet – and tomorrow is my first day! Cue the nervous diarrhea, and I’m crossing #19 off the list!

Marmot and Max on Max's memory foam dog bed!

I had heard a rumor that there was someone in town who did canine massage, so I Googled it and found her, and she came out to the house a week later. She spent over an hour with him and the next day, he obviously felt fabulous because he was running in the yard again! We’re thinking that with how great he seemed to feel afterwards, we might do regular visits with her!

We realized this year that between the two of us, we’ve been on every diet known to man. So as a public service, we are going to share our vast knowledge in order to help you decide which diet to do for 2012.

Atkins

HB: Well that is the diet of cheese, and I love cheese.

QB: Except that cheese binds you up, and you only lose weight when you poop.

HB: Yeah, and its a doozy when you do. Like make sure you’re at home, its going to be a three-flush incident.

QB: Oh no, you can’t poop at a friend’s house when you’re on Atkins. If you’re going to clog a toilet, you want to do that at home. In fact you should just carry the plunger with you every time you go to the bathroom, just to be safe.

HB: But on the plus side, its all-you-can-eat bacon.

QB: But after a couple tries on Atkins, you can burn out on bacon. Heed my warning, because I’m off bacon until at least 2014.

HB: And don’t forget the carb withdrawals, I wanted bread so bad that I would have eaten cardboard if it was dipped in sugar.

QB: But remember the sugar-free gum? I ate three packs of it in a day and had a bowel malfunction.

Weight Watchers

QB: Oh yes, this is my personal favorite.

HB: Until you go to the meeting, and someone gets a lifetime award for losing 12lbs.

QB: Anybody can lose 12lbs. I had a 12lb bowel movement on Atkins once.

HB: Well I’m still paying the monthly fee that I signed up for last year if you want to go again this year.

QB: Why do you have to pay even if you don’t lose weight? There should be a money-back guarantee. If you gain weight, they give you the judge-y face.

HB: Oh yeah, that time you gained 8lbs in a week. Judgmental bitches.

QB: It was fruit! They did NOT say that fruit in syrup is not actually fruit. I had 14 cans of peaches in heavy syrup, and drank the syrup. I was being healthy!

HB: Well I can’t afford to go anymore unless they start giving credit for buying crap. I have the measuring cups, scales, cookbooks, granola bars the size of postage stamps, water jugs. I have an entire Weight Watchers room in the basement.

Grapefruit and Cabbage Diet

HB: Did you know if you eat too much grapefruit, that the acid will burn your bum hole when you poop?

QB: That’s if you poop. When I tried it the gas got so bad from the cabbage, I was afraid to bend over and risk shooting grapefruit seeds out my ass like a machine gun.

HB: And the canker sores from the acid, its no joke. I had canker face.

QB: I didn’t want to say it then Honey, but you looked like a walking herpes outbreak.

Nutrisystem

HB: I looked at the food online once, and have been psycho called by their customer service department for a year and a half.

QB: That food isn’t even real. I had one of their ho-ho’s, which I think was actually plastic.

HB: Oh Mother, that’s because you were binge-eating next weeks food in the middle of the night and ate the ho-ho with the wrapper still on it.

QB: Is that what that was?

Alli

QB: I can’t afford Alli, unless we’re going to cover all the furniture with plastic. Last time you did Alli, I had to buy a new office chair.

HB: Ohhhhh, the office chair. Well my thinking was, if taking one Alli pill was good, taking two is better right? And I had gas….. But it wasn’t gas.

QB: Yeah think again. You ruined my office chair! You were popping Alli like candy, ripped one, and next thing you know we were dropping the office chair off in a midnight Goodwill stealth donation.

HB: The best part about Alli is going off of it, you can once again fart confidently.

HCG Diet

HB: The only good thing about that diet is the loading days where you eat yourself sick, on purpose.

QB: Five hundred calories a day is insanity! I can pick that many calories out of my teeth after a meal.

HB: That was the diet that you called me crying from the couch because you couldn’t eat anything and all the joy had been sucked out of your life.

QB: Speaking of sucking, we should do liposuction.

HB: Remember that liposuction cream that I had an allergic reaction to?

QB: That was Preparation H.

So this years decision is……..drumroll please……..we’re going all-organic. Stay tuned.

I find all my crockpot recipes on Pinterest, which is second only to Farmville in best ways to procrastinate on homework. I have an entire board dedicated to bacon, and can quite honestly say with all the cooking I have done lately thanks to Pinterest inspiration, I am a domestic goddess.

My crockpots at work

Speaking of domestic goddess, I must admit that I may have set the bar quite low in that category. When I made crockpot chicken and dumplings, Marmot said it was the best meal he’d ever had. Mildly embarrassing that the hardest part of the best meal that Marmot ever had was opening the can of refrigerator biscuits. Mom, are you proud??

Best Crockpot Recipe of the Week AND Marmot’s Best Meal Ever – Crockpot Chicken and Dumplings

Put 4 chicken breasts in the bottom of the crockpot, and add 1 diced onion, 2 cans of cream of chicken soup (no water) and 1 can of chicken broth. Your choice of spices- I put thyme, a bay leaf, a clove of garlic, salt and pepper. Cook for 6-7 hours on low. Shred the chicken with a fork. Open 2 cans of refrigerator biscuit, cut into dumpling size pieces. Cover and continue to cook on low until dumplings are cooked, about 45 minutes. Voila!