Hemo is judging you.

Oh, so you thought you’d make some healthy and delicious oatmeal pancakes for breakfast?  Sounds like a great idea – make a big batch, freeze’em, and pop them in the toaster in the morning for a quick on-the-go breakfast.

You do know that oatmeal pancakes ≠ oatmeal cookies, right?You know oatmeal pancakes =/= oatmeal cookies, right?

Yeah, Heem, I know, but I’ve got this whole canister of oatmeal – I might as well use it.  In fact, let’s double the recipe; I gotta get rid of this stuff.

*sigh* Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
*sigh* Don't say I didn't warn you.

(original recipe – Heart-Healthy Oatmeal Pancakes)

milk – strike one.  Substitute coconut milk.  check.
oatmeal – check.
oatmeal flour – wha?  *drags out food processor* check.
baking powder – nope. But it’s optional, so…
salt – check.
egg whites – check.
cinnamon – check. Scratch that.  I had cinnamon – at Steve’s house.  So…cocoa powder? check.

45 minutes later:Dang pancakes - looking good!

Dang, pancakes, you’re looking GOOD.  Let’s have a taste test!


*sad face*

Shoot, these taste like oatmeal.  Plain oatmeal.  I need some sweetness in my life!

*rummages in the fridge* How about some blueberries?

Taste test No. 2

Verdict: These things still taste like coconut-flavored cardboard.  With blueberries mixed in.  W.T.F.

*breaks down and adds some brown sugar and vanilla*

I didn’t even try the rest of the batch.  I just cooked them all and threw them in the freezer.  This morning I popped two in the toaster and…

Do yourself a favor – next time just open a can of tun.  At least that won’t go to waste.What did I tell you?

A photo essay

I road tripped with some girlfriends down to Columbia, SC to celebrate Julie’s birthday, which just happened to coincide with Five Points’ St. Patrick’s Day street festival.

Maybe it’s just me, but I made sure to tell everyone that I was going to Columbia, SOUTH CAROLINA, lest they think I was jetting down to South America.  I’m not sure why I think anyone would make that assumption, especially my co-workers (who know how pitiful my salary is).  But just to make sure…I was in SOUTH CAROLINA.

Weekend in SC
Ah, collages.  They were my favorite part of being on the yearbook staff in high school.

While I was away, Hemo got the house to herself, and the dogs went to stay with their Auntie & Uncle Awesome.  They had a great time, and Auntie Awesome was, well, awesome, enough to send me some pictures of the boys’ adventures while I away.

The dogs at Ash's

Can’t say it looks like they were missing me too much.

And one more picture, for anyone who’s driven south on I-95 in the past 20 years…

You never SAUSAGE a place!


I knew as soon as I blogged about her, it was over.

I just hope she made it to safety, and Hemo didn’t get her first.

See ya, biotches.“Thanks for all the gnats.  And, uh, don’t wait up.”

The boys are excited…

…by all the warm weather we’re having.

Literally excited – I’m talking lipstick city.


Lipstick city!

Gross.  Also, they were simultaneously distracted by a squirrel.

The quality of the boys’ walks rises proportionately with the quality of the weather.

Cold and rainy out? The boys get hustled around the neighboring park, and any subsequent “business” gets taken care of in the backyard.

Warm(ish) and sunny? A three mile walk/run in the woods behind an old plantation.

I love taking them on these trails – it’s the best way to get both of the boys tired out, since they have such disparate energy levels.  On a scale of 1-10, Ernie is a level 9 (with occasional surges to 10), while Dexter is more of a 3.  Or a 2.  This disparity becomes evident on off-leash walks.  Dex spends most of the walk sniffing things:

*sniff sniff sniff*Dexter sniffs something

and then catching up:

Hey guys – wait up!Hey guys wait up!

and sniffing things:

More deer poop?  Is it my birthday?Sniffing deer poop

and some more catching up:

Hey – where’s the fire?What's the rush?

Ernie, on the other hand, runs ahead, turns around, runs back, circles the group, and then runs ahead.  Then turns back and circles the group again.  On a three mile hike, he probably runs at least 6 miles.

What’s the hold up?What's the hold up?

With occasional forays off of the trail to chase some wildlife:

I’m a half-second away from disappearing after this squirrel..5 seconds away from disappearing

I leave Ernie’s leash on, even on off-leash walks, for a couple of reasons.  I walk both dogs on short, 12″ traffic leads.  Since both dogs heel at my side while on leashed walks, I find it annoying to deal with the remaining 5.5 feet of leash.  One of the reasons I leave Ernie’s leash on is that it kind of slows him down.  The leash isn’t long enough to get tangled in his legs, but it can trip him if he’s trying to take off willy-nilly into the woods.  His recall is good, but almost nothing can compete with a squirrel.  The second reason, though, is that he loves to carry it around.

I love my leash

It’s also a great recall enforcer, too.  Ernie’s favorite game is tug-of-war, so every time he comes crashing through the underbrush towards me after a “ERNIE!  COME!”  he gets a quick game of tug.

At the end of the day, I had two worn-out puppies.

Muddy water?  Don’t mind if I do…Dexter gets a drink.

It took Dexter quite a while to settle on this particular puddle.  Ernie kept running ahead of him and stomping through all the puddles, muddying them to the point where Dex didn’t want to drink out of them.  It was a bit sad; Dex would set his sights on a puddle and amble up to it, only to have Ernie dash in at the last second and stir up all the sediment.  Dex finally settled on this water-filled tire rut for his bath and refreshment (it was only slightly muddied).

Can we come back tomorrow?I'm not tired!

Two dogs, a cat, and a girl…now with more frog!

Meet the newest Mutha Fudrucker:

What up, ninjas?

(I’m pretty sure she is a girl because I haven’t heard any croaks or ribbits.)

This little Son of a B hitched a ride on one of my dumb canes when I brought my plants inside for winter.  I didn’t notice her until about a month after she’d arrived.  Initially I was a little worried that Hemo would pose a threat to her continued safety, as she (Hemo) was quite a tree-frog hunter in her younger days.  She’d catch them on my apartment balcony and bring them inside (some still kicking feebly) to play with in the living room, abandoning them after she’d become bored and moved on other pursuits, such as knocking over water glasses or creating sand art with her litter.

My worries were unfounded, it seems, because Hemo cares not a whit for the frog.  But THEN I started worrying that she would die of starvation, because (as far as I know) there are no crickets in the spare room.  But she must be eating something because now it is March and she’s been here since November.

Usually she chills on the big broad leaves of the dumb canes.  She used to switch it up; staying for a week or two on one dumb cane, then migrating across the table to the other.  Now she just lives in one plant, but most morning she takes a dirt bath in the dying portulaca.

I got mad skills, yo.

I don’t usually see her move – she’s a ninja like that.  I just turn around, and BAM! she’s on a new leaf.

Ninja frog moves with stealth.

A few weekends ago it was beautiful outside – sunny and (kinda) warm.  I moved her home plant to the front porch to give her a chance to get some direct sun, and even return to the wild, if she wanted.  I observed her moving around the plant for a little bit, and when I went to bring the plant in as the sun was going down, I didn’t see her anywhere on the plant!  I searched around the porch but didn’t see her.  Part of me was sad, but part of me was kind of relieved.  The responsibility for her well-being was really weighing heavily on me.

“Run free, little ninja frog,” I thought.

“Find a Mr. Ninja Frog and makes little Ninja Frog babies!  It’s the circle of life!”

But Ninja Frog strikes again!  That little frog was hiding amongst the leaves the whole time and hitched a ride back into the house.  So now I think I’m stuck with her.

I'm back.

Crime and Punishment

Once Ernie de-crotches a pair of underwear, I usually keep it around for a couple of day before tossing it.  I guess I think of it as a deterrent – I can pull it out and shake it in his face and tell myself I’m reminding him of past sins and discouraging him from repeating them.

If you like my underwear so much, why don’t YOU wear them?

I don’t like them…on my head.

Oh, you don’t like them on your head, huh?

I renounce underwear.

Promise not to chew up any more underwear?

I promise…to try.
Ernie pleads.

WTF? I don’t even like underwear.


Don’t even think about it.  Seriously.

I will cut a bitch.I will cut a bitch.