I'm not still eating raw apples.

I've moved on to pumpkin EVERYTHING, readers. Now, I could stuff my hands in my pockets and refuse to make eye contact while I scuff my Keds along the ground and say, "It's been awhile." But I won't do that to you, dear readers. You just want to see pictures, anyway. Without any further insincere apologies, I present to you:

 1) On Thursday, Keally P, Matt G, and I headed down to AC to meet up with Rob for the NJEA teacher's convention. No workshops were attended; however sweaters were the theme of the trip. Pictured above is the back of Matt G's thrifted cardigan. I made multiple attempts to steal this, he caught me every time. Probably because it was so warm that I drifted into a deep sleep every time I put this woolen wonder on.

 2) So we're going a little out of order, readers. Before I left for AC, I went for a run on the 'boro's Lenape Trail. Fall in the 'boro is mediocre; but, the yellows are pretty nice and certainly worth documenting.

 3) Keally P and I are ready to go out. No, I didn't wear those glasses out. Yes, I was upset about that. Had I worn them, I would've been able to see the hijinx of Sweater Girl and the Birthday Troll much more clearly.

 4) My teacher likes to party all the time party all the time party all the time, in faux snow.

 5) Karaoke vocal chord recuperation courtesy of Starbucks. An extra free 20 bucks on my gold card courtesy of the new guy working there. Thank you!

6) On Saturday evening, the beasthound and I had a girls' night in. Be proud of me, readers, I didn't cave to "the look" (seen in the photo above) and let her sleep in my bed. I did nearly lose my life when she charged a squirrel in the AM. Holding onto a leash with a 80lb dog running full speed might be what riding a mechanical bull feels like. Yes, I know I need my bangs trimmed, again.

7) Finally, a weekend conclusion  with adventures in the world of pumpkin baking. Yes, those are Christmas wrappers. I didn't use them because I'm jumping the December gun, I used them for safety purposes. They're made by Nordicware and I like to think of them as armor to protect baked goods from my poorly behaved oven.

Was your weekend full of faux snow, pumpkin, and beasthounds? I hope so.
-L

Rawapple: Day 3

Behold, the whole wheat waffle, peanut butter, and golden delicious apple breakfast combo. Behold, also, kitchen hen.

I've got five apples left, dear readers. Lady J from Delirious Kitchen gave me a pretty spectacular idea regarding the fate of the five final fruits. Stay tuned.

-L

P.S. I don't have a picture, but I did chop up a Stayman Winesap apple an combined it with some golden raisins and chopped almonds to top off a big bowl of oatmeal for Rawapple: Day 2. I never actually ate this because I "wasn't in the mood" (Maslowski 1). Instead, I pawned said oatmeal concoction off on my co-teacher, Moira.
Much to our nonsurprise, when the kids in our class saw this oatmeal, they made horrible faces and noises we were unaware things other than farm animals could make. (Sometimes lunch takes a backseat to the insanity that is teaching high school English and you have to squeeze in lunch wherever you can.)
When I asked one of the kids about his oatmeal outburst, he replied, "That's oatmeal?! I didn't know that was oatmeal. I thought you were eating porridge or glue or something." 1) Besides problem bears, does anyone actually eat porridge? 2) Glue. In a bowl. I was unaware adhesive was prepared this way, you learn something new every day, dear readers.

Rawapple: Day 1

This Sunday, I looked into a career change. The ladies, Dan, and I took over Terhune Orchards as farmhands for a day straight out of the pages of my literary boyfriend John Steinbeck's novel, Of Mice and Men. (Forgive me, Stef M, bloggermobile doesn't allow for italicizing titles. Yes, I consulted your bookmark for this post. John, call me.)

While no barley bucking or euchre occurred, there was almost a bunkhouse brawl between Jenny B and Dan and we tried our darnedest to avoid "tarts", except for Keally, she can't help herself.

I'd like to devote a longer post to our apple picking adventures, complete with photography; however, my REM cycle objects at this point in time. To tide you over, I've decided to keep you current, dear readers, with what I've been doing with the twelve assorted apples I picked during my Migrant Worker For A Day experience.

Day 1: Stayman Winesap apple, Wheat Thins, and peanut butter
While this picture may look like a twisted solution to the game of Clue: "Kitchen Swan, with the offset spatula, apple, crackers, and peanut butter in the way-too-small kitchen!"...it's just my lunch.

Stay tuned for Day Two,
-L

PS:
Please don't stop reading my blog because this post proves what a humongous nerd I am.
PPS:
John Steinbeck still hasn't returned my calls, texts, or tweets.

Teaser

Sara and Justin got married in the OBX.
I took photos.
Correction, I took over 1300 photos.
Here 's a teaser of some of the edited shots.

More to come,
-L

Super-beam

When my oldest nephew Nikolaus was first learning to speak, it was entertaining to ask him all sorts of questions. I would point to something in the room we were in and ask him, "What's that?" "Mo-mo-cycle." Motorcycle. When we looked through his photo album, I'd ask him, "Who's that?" "Mommy." "Who's next to Mommy?" "Amah."  Even as a baby, my nephew was  pretty good at recognizing animals. Rabbits, birdies, cows, pigs, he knew them all. He was a bit more specific when it came to one dog in particular: his own Sequoia. When I babysat Niko in the house on James, Sequoia would sit in her green chair and hang out with us. "Niko, who's that in the chair?" Even as a baby just beginning to master language, Niko knew this was no "doggie", or pet, this was "Quoia", a member of his family.

Last night, Sequoia passed away. To say she will be missed is a serious understatement. I scoured the interweb for a meaningful quote or verse to accompany this post for Sequoia, but nothing seemed to fit. Instead, I'll tell you one of my favorite Sequoia stories from when I dog/housesat for Brant and Larissa. 

A few years ago, when B&L were still on James, I dogsat for them over a long weekend in the summer. If you have knees, you can watch Sequoia. She was happy as can be just resting her head on your knee and beaming at you. Never before have I met a dog who was just so content to be with people. If you scratched her back, you got a super-beam from Sequoia. I always went for the super-beam.

During my dogsitting stint, Sequoia and I took long walks around New Brunswick. Being the frightened suburbanite I was (and let's be honest, still am), I made up scary names to call Sequoia as we took our walks, like Killer or Fang.  I also thought it wise to share with passerbys  false tales of just how hungry Fang was and remind Killer of how much trouble she got in last time for trying to eat someone. You know, just in case any city riffraff was basing their decision to mug me based on what they learned from eavesdropping on my conversations with a dog.  In case there is any confusion, readers, this was the dog who super-beamed when you scratched her back. This was also the dog whose mere presence in my mother's kitchen caused my maniacal horse-dog to behave like a normal canine. You can bet that Libby and I have had some long talks that ended in, "If you'd just be more like Sequoia, I think things might turn around for you."

Sequoia, I will miss looking into your beautiful eyes as you rested your head on my knee. I will also miss marveling at your tolerance while Oskar pulled and tugged at your ears. I will miss Nikolaus telling you to stay away from his Legos when you were at least 10 feet away from them. Most of all, I will miss your super-beam. 

-L

Textiquette

Brother, Sissy-in-Law, and I are on our way home from CoNoCo. We're about three hours into the trip. An awesome weekend was had; but, I think Brother has been looking forward to the drive home since we arrived. Not because he wanted to leave, but because he couldn't wait to listen to Howard Stern on Sirius for 8 hours.

Because you can't be entertained by Mr. Stern for eight hours via pepperandpoppy, I've provided you entertainment via the GOAT. Below, enjoy a recent text message conversation between my father and I.

L: We're about five hours away
B&k are dropping me off at my apt could we figure out a way to get my car there that isn't too much trouble for you guys?

GOAT: CALL THE HOUSE , PLEASE

At this point in the conversation, I called my mother to find out if my parents' house was on fire or if Betty had climbed a tree and refused to come down until the GOAT agreed to an all day Last of the Mohicans' marathon. (She just "loves Daniel Day Lewis.") Text messaging in all capitals is wrong on so many levels. Not to my surprise, everything was fine in the KP and arrangements have been made for my car. Before I ended the call, I asked Betty to give the GOAT a message: He will receive a lesson in text messaging manners from me in the near future. Betty always delivers and here was GOAT's response to my offer of a free semester in textiquette charm school:

GOAT: HERE YOUR FRIGGIN ETIQUETTE, I LEAVE YOUR CAR IN THE "PARK &RIDE"POP

L: No leave it at the apartment.
And you will learn how to use text messaging manners whether you want to or not, it's called being a good digital citizen!!

GOAT: I"LL SEND YOU ON A SCAVENGER HUNT FOR YOUR CAR IN ONE OF THE LOTS AT RAVEN CREST HA !

L: You're a crazy person.

GOAT: BITE ME
AND REMEMBER THAT FOR FOR THE FUTURE, I"M TEXTING WHILE I'M DRIVING YOUR CAR , HOPE I DON'T WRECK IT

Is this where I get my endless wit? I know it's not where I get my spelling.

FIVE HOURS AWAY FROM NJ.

-L

Corolla-bound.

Brother and official sissy in law are on their ways to pick me up for our jaunt to Corolla, NC. Why am I going there? And more importantly, why haven't you blogged in so long? Enough with the questions and let me finish my story, dear reader.

A couple months ago, deep in the heart of Joplin, Missouri, where the temperatures are equivalent to that of the Greek Underworld and the grits and gravy flow free, Sara S asked me if I would like to document her wedding to Justin. You may recognize Sara S as my Michael Kors watch buddy. You may recognize Justin and his Kum n' Go hat from my photos of K&B's wedding. Needless to say, they are a super couple and I am super psyched to be at their hitching. Fingers crossed said hat makes an appearance at this celebration.

S&J are getting married, beach-side, in Corolla, NC. I plan to document their wedding using the Cadillac of cameras seen at the top of my leaning tower of luggage. I also plan to document my adventures in NC using instagram and blogger mobile. Dear reader, blogger mobile could mean great things for us. For example, it might look like I'm emailing a parent from my iPhone or adding an important appointment to calendar; however, I'll actually be telling you about the tenth grader who told me I looked especially beautiful today, like a waitress in a five star restaurant or about the 125 lb Akita I met named Harley. He belongs to the driver of the OBHS-bound volleyball bus who that it was important all 38 of us meet Harley, in the driveway of his house.

Bloggermobile, this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Meet me halfway and I won't disappoint.

Corolla, here we come.

-L