Monopoly

I used to love Monopoly. When I was little, my sister and I and our cousins would play for hours with rules of our own devising and plenty of cheating. My favorite tactic was to stash some extra bills in the bathroom and then pretend I had to pee if my cash flow was getting dicey.

I was none too pleased to find it under the tree this year, though. And not because I've outgrown questionable financial practices, either. Nope, it all has to do with my outrageous vanity. See, Weston has been regularly kicking my ass at chess for quite some time and the last thing I need is another avenue for a vigorous thrashing at the hands of a seven year old. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't fall for the bathroom scheme, too. The truth is, I haven't been able to trick him for at least a year and a half.

So I had to develop a new strategy: now I pour a giant glass of wine, hide some extra in the bathroom, and see how fast I can blow through those colorful bills in pursuit of blissful bankruptcy.

Do you guys care if I talk about squirrels now? I'm super tired of talking about Monopoly. The squirrel thing is kind of gross, though. First you have to read this article in today's Seattle Times about an urban squirrel harvester. She sounds a little nuts, but it's an intriguing idea. Read the comments, too- they are hilarious. There seems to be an aversion to chowing down on cute food sources. I don't know why; once you cut the face off the meat all looks the same, right? Also, it reminded me of this awesome post on eating dog by Ask A Korean. I don't care what you think of eating dogs, that post is pure brilliance.

Because I am slightly demented, I was intrigued by the methods by which you could dispatch the squirrels, but I will spare you all the gory details. After some lengthy and very interesting discussion, it became apparent that I would be less than successful should the necessity or opportunity for squirrel killing arise. It's unfortunate, too, because I'm not a girl to miss many meals, which makes me a fan of having a robust food reserve. Oh well, there's always those tasty and attractive slugs! In fact, I would eat a whole sack of those slimy things if it would get me out of this Godforsaken game. A girl can dream, you know.

Sweet

I had the sweetest day today! I woke up this morning and looked out the back yard at the sheep farm to see an awesome sunrise. Then, the boys and I did our morning chores and headed out to make our rounds. First we visited Grandpa, which is always a popular destination, possibly partly because of the chips and cookies that are always readily available. Then we went to Jennifer's house, which is the picture with the Christmas bears in front of it. I would arrange the pictures in the proper order, but it never works, so you're just going to have to keep up. Sorry! But I have total confidence in you.

It was a gorgeous day and I had a fantastic walk at the park and then laid on the bio-mat. It's chock-full of vibrating crystals and is supposed to juice you up good. I'm not too sure about that, but it is warm and quiet and a good place for a nap.

Then we came home and I cleaned out the tomato vines, rotated the compost, and inspected the brussels sprouts and cabbages. They've already survived a couple of hard freezes, so I'm thinking they might be indestructible. I'm just going to let them grow; they're part of my emergency kit. They're the perfect post-earthquake food: see the slug holes? You can get your meat and vegetables all at the same time. I've looked into cooking slugs before without too much success, but I have not previously considered slug cabbage rolls.

But wait! It gets even better! There is nothing I like better than giving unsolicited advice and I was presented with a golden opportunity this afternoon. One of my charming friends, who shall remain nameless so she won't kill me, mentioned how annoying her husband is being. Not that I would know anything about that, but I do know a most excellent technique for relieving negative feelings. It's called energy tapping, and I've written about it before. I know, it sounds a little weird but I have used it successfully in multiple ways. So, naturally, I cheerfully offered my expertise in this arena, and I'm sure everything is fine now.

Now I am having wine and watching 'The Cat from Outer Space'; it never gets old! Did I mention the wine? Good night!

Slugs

***post-bath update: just a little tip, should the need arise- soap, water and a washcloth will not remove slug slime. A nice, thick, baking soda paste, however, is quite effective.

Oh, you guys are seriously not going to believe this one. I will just shoot you straight, right from the beginning. Every word that follows is completely, 100% true.

This afternoon, we made a short trip to a trail system near the house so I could run (I know, I know, but it's true, I swear). Lloyd got on the phone, the boys started poking around, like they do, and I took off as fast as I could go. Not very fast, sure, but I was around the corner and out of sight in a matter of seconds. Fine, five minutes. OKAY? The path is kind of a funky little system with levee trails on both sides of a slough, and some crossovers. I got a little turned around and as a result, didn't see them again for about a half hour. When I finally made my way all the way around and spotted them again, there was something not quite right. Lloyd was still on the phone, natch, and Weston had a shoelace tied around his hips.

Me: Weston, why is that shoelace tied around your pants?

Weston: So the slugs can't get out of my pockets!

Clever, true, I have to give him that one. Not sure that would have occurred to me. I looked a little closer, and saw that both the boys had their hands full of brown, medium sized slugs, and a couple were sliming their way out of Shane's shirt.

When we got back to the car, we made them strip down and put their bounty into a cup. Turns out, Shane even had his transformer underwear packed full of the vile little creatures. We threw his shirt away and made him stick his hands in his pockets for the ride home, and then we force-marched them straight into the tub. But not before taking a picture of them with the disgusting mucous-ridden fruits of their labor, so enjoy! Note Shane's belly; it has remnants of paper on it because we stuck a coloring book over the glistening trails on his abdomen to avoid mucking up his seatbelt.

Have a happy Sunday! I'll be laying on the couch, sucking down beers and trying to quell the nausea.