The Woman Who Runs with The Big Dog


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Friends, Humor | Posted on 27-09-2015

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I read something recently about the nicknames you give neighbors when you don’t know their actual names.

Like, The Guy Who Drives the Jeep Rubicon. Or, The Woman with the Little White Dog Named Pierre.

One of my neighbors has become: The Woman Who Gave Us Tomatoes.

My kids are like who? 

You know, her husband is The Guy Who Drives the Jeep Rubicon?

Oh yeah!

These names we give people reminds me of Stands with a Fist from the movie Dances with Wolves. So much more descriptive than Janice.

After The Woman Who Gave Us Tomatoes graciously gifted me another batch of the reddest tomatoes from her garden, I wanted to thank her by name. So I had to embarrassingly ask her again. Now I know.

And she told me with a smile, I had to ask so-and-so what your name was. I described you as The Woman Who Runs with the Big Dog.

Nice to meet you!

A Desert Island


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor | Posted on 22-09-2015

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If you were trapped on a desert island with only one food to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?

That’s easy. Beans. Beans?!

My kids hate my answer. So practical, so boring. Instead, they answer Pizza! Hot fudge sundaes!

I appreciate beans, packed with nourishment, protein, oooh and fiber! Plus, you can store dry beans for years. When you eat them, you are full. They are easy to cook, just add water.

With an endless supply of beans, it’s probably a good thing I’ll be alone on that island. Baroom!

Hairy Clumps and Catching Skunks


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Humor, Inappropriate, Parenting | Posted on 16-09-2015

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My 10-year-old son and I were hanging out on the patio. We opened up the cards from the game You Gotta Be Kidding! The questions are hilarious and thought provoking, and certainly generate a fun dialogue:

Would you rather catch a porcupine thrown from a second-story window? Or a skunk thrown from the same window? A porcupine? No way! That would hurt. You can always wash off skunk smell. 

Would you rather chew a piece of toenail off a dirty man’s foot or lick every inch of his unwashed armpit? Licking an armpit? Disgusting! But chewing a piece of toenail off someone’s foot? Yeah, but you could use the toenail for a toothpick! 

Would you rather drink liquid found leaking from a garbage bag or chew on a hairy clump found between the cushions of an old couch? Ewww, I would never drink from the garbage bag. Do you know how gross that is?! Yeah, but I’m not sure I could chew an unknown hairy clump.

Would you rather have a small butt on your forehead or two little feet dangling beneath your chin? Definitely, a small butt on my forehead. You can always wear a hat or grow bangs.

We were laughing, talking, reasoning, and laughing some more. I am still envisioning two little feet dangling beneath my chin…and chuckling.

I read reviews of the game and was surprised that some people disapprove: “Disgusting, inappropriate, gross.”

You gotta be kidding!

Hmmmm…spending time talking and laughing with your children, being creative, explaining your answers, empowering children to be confident to reason and debate? I would rather chew a hairy clump than spend time with people who are so easily disgusted. :-)

The Lonely Cabbage


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Childhood, Childrearing, Children | Posted on 13-09-2015

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One hot summer’s day, we went to a farm with acres of cabbage, cauliflower, eggplant, and corn. Fields of zinnias, sunflowers, cosmos, foxgloves. Orchards with peaches. Rows of raspberries and giant blackberries.

There was an abundance of produce and goodness! We picked berries until we couldn’t pick or eat any more. We picked $40 in peaches.

The cabbages also beckoned. You couldn’t miss them. There were in perfect rows, with huge leaves framing their white cabbage heads.

We noticed one cabbage sitting all by itself. Cut loose and laying in the dirt, without leaves to protect it from the sun. We felt sorry for it. The lonely cabbage. So of course, we took it with us. My daughter cradled it in her arms. The lonely cabbage was lonely no more!

The shriveled cabbage reminded me of the bruised apples I often buy at the grocery store, because I feel sorry for them. Read about that here.

On our way home, when we stopped for lunch, my daughter was concerned that the cabbage would get too hot in the car.

Should we leave the air conditioning on for it? She asked. I don’t want it to get too hot.

Oh my goodness, that girl is sweeter than the juiciest peach from the orchard.



Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Aging, Attitude, Fun, Life | Posted on 09-09-2015

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“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

-George Bernard Shaw

Thank you to my friend Gina who reminded me of this most excellent quote. And thank you to my husband who special ordered me a gallon of glycerin, the magic ingredient for giant bubbles.


Cookies for Dinner


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Baking, Childrearing, Children, Cooking, Family, Humor | Posted on 03-09-2015

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I always seem to find time to bake cookies but not always time to make dinner. Priorities, I guess.

Let’s see.

Butter and eggs cover the dairy.

Almond flour covers the nuts.

Chocolate chips cover the yum.

So yeah, cookies for dinner practically covers all of the food groups. Add a banana and a carrot on the side. Serve with a glass of milk, and bam! Dessert and dinner all in one!

Turn Around…Let Me See Your Butt


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Childrearing, Children, Parenting, School | Posted on 01-09-2015

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Clothes shopping. Back-to-school shopping.

When my children try on jeans, I always tug the waist to see if there’s room. Even if they are sixteen years old. I check the length to make sure they are long enough. Then.

Turn around. Let me see your butt. 

If the jeans pass the waist-length-butt test, they win!

Then, it’s try-on-shoes time. Too short? Too long? Just right?

Run down the aisle! Jump! Are they comfortable? Do you like them?

My three are now ready to begin the school year with happy butts and feet.


Demolition Derby


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Memories, Nature, Nostalgia | Posted on 26-08-2015

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I just love a good, old-fashioned Demolition Derby. Where people come to crash cars…the last one running wins.

I love the smashing of metal. The demolition. The destruction.

It’s that time of year–county fair time–when people come to watch and cheer on the wreckage. I am always one of the loudest fans.

Except. When it comes to demolishing beautiful red barns, I am heartbroken.

There’s a place along my run where I often stop to take in the view. Of the barn, the trees, and the clouds in the distance. So peaceful and perfectly bucolic.

But one day, the bulldozers came in to clear the land and demolish that lovely barn. Where the horses once frolicked. Where the hay was piled up to the rafters. Where the runner and her dog would pause to take in the scenery.

After two days of smashing and destruction, nary a barn board or tree was left. Only memories.


The Lie


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Boys, Memories, Mothers and Sons, Parenting | Posted on 24-08-2015

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My 10-year-old son loves cars. He researches them. Studies and cites car facts. Spots supercars whenever he can. Watches Top Gear religiously.

One day he spotted a Ferrari F12 Berlinetta! It made his day!

Another day, we came upon Go-Karts. He was thrilled!

Must be 12 and up to ride. Said the sign.

He was devastated.

I went up to the counter to buy tickets for my daughter and my son. Is he 12? Asked the guy behind the counter.

Um, almost. I answered enthusiastically.

Today, he is 12. Said the guy angel behind the counter.

Yes! Today he is 12! I echoed.

My son had the biggest grin as they handed him the golden coin to ride. It was even better than the golden ticket Charlie Bucket found.

My son raced with such glee and confidence, I think we should lie more often.



Who Cut the Cheese?


Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Children, Food | Posted on 19-08-2015

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We love cheese. Cheese of all colors and shapes and flavors.

We were in the deli section at Whole Foods and my ten-year-old son wanted to buy a wedge of cheese. It was brie. Not just any brie. Imported and extra ripe brie. It was $7.

Please can we buy it? I’ll pay you back.

How can you say no to a boy wanting to try new things? Especially cheese that’s not cheddar or jack?

When we got home, we couldn’t wait to undo the cellophane and partake. One little peek and whoa! The smell. The stink. The stench. It permeated instantly throughout the kitchen. You could see the stink as it rose from the innocent, triangular wedge.

Did we dare indulge? We had to.

That afternoon, we indeed ate the stinkiest cheese in all the land. Totally worth the $7 for bragging rights.



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