When reality blows

by Fiddledeedee on April 11, 2014

After the excitement of the last couple of days as Fiddledaddy’s professional life intersected with William Shatner, you have to imagine that we would need to settle back down to reality.  My reality is the rigors of homeschooling and parenting.

Neither of which I’ve ever felt particularly prepared for.

In fact, just yesterday I paused at the sink to rinse a glass.  I looked out over the counter into the Family Room to see my 3 children all sitting quietly watching the same TV show.  (It’s rare that they ever sit quietly, and together)  But the show in question was Dr. Who, which is the only television show that they can all 3 stand to watch in unison.  As I looked upon these 3 very different little beings, a thought struck me.  I HAVE 3 CHILDREN.  That revelation made me giggle.  The children all looked up from their show to ask me why I was laughing.  “BECAUSE I HAVE 3 CHILDREN!”  They eyed one another, “Mom’s cracked.”  Which is really not all that unusual this time of year.

The days toward the end of the school year always seem to be the most trying.  Especially today.  This afternoon the oldest child fainted.  That was my first experience with a fainting child (my own, at least).  And hopefully that was my last experience.  She’s fine, btw.  Just a bump to the melon.  We believe she was dehydrated.  But the incident shaved a good 10 years from my life.  She was then treated to a lecture from Fiddledaddy on the merits of water drinking.  After he left the room the children began wagering the contents of their piggy banks as to how fast it would take their father to google FAINTING.  He overheard them and now they have been sentenced to watching episodes of Dr. Oz with him.  A fate worse than death.  Jensen calls him “Dr. Odd.”

And then there was dinner.  I had prepared a delightful gluten-free meal (thank you, Dr. Odd).  Delightful to everyone save Jensen, who wanted nothing to do with the accompanying Cucumber/Tomato/Feta Salad extravaganza.  But in order to enjoy the delicious gluten-free dinner roll that we used as bait at the edge of his plate, he had to endure the salad.

The salad consumption took awhile.  So Fiddledaddy and I planted ourselves close by on the couch.  Cailey remained at the table to encourage Jensen.  And by encourage, I mean BUG THE CR** OUT OF HIM, as she possesses a gene which leaves her no choice but to POLICE HER SIBLINGS.

Then it happened.  We heard an unassuming coughing sound.  Followed by gagging.  At which time Cailey fled the table to the far reaches of the house.  Well played, little brother, well played.

But by then the gauntlet was tossed down.  Angrily, Jensen hollered over to us, “Doesn’t anyone care that I’m PUKING!”

And just then he unleashed the salad back out onto his plate.  Which still held the uneaten dinner roll.  With lightning fast speed (not me, as vomit tends to immobilize my reflexes…not my gag reflex, that’s fully functioning, just my reflexes in general) the puke bucket was dispensed.  And then another.  He filled both.  Two weeks worth of groceries.  Just like that.

As usual, Fiddledaddy took charge.  The boy finished his excavation in the bathroom.  Fiddledaddy left me in charge while he went outside to dispose of the contents of BOTH buckets.  This was an error in judgement.  Because as I was cleaning up the last bits of tomato spittle from the edge of the toilet, which looked strikingly like blood, the boy asked if he could go eat his dinner roll.  He explained that it was on the EDGE of the plate and likely didn’t get all that splattered.

My eyes rolled back and I went to my happy place.  Which in this instance was the laundry room.  Evidently Jensen went outside in search of his father (perhaps thinking that’s where the dinner roll disappeared to).  When both reentered, Fiddledaddy couldn’t understand why I left my post of watching the boy TO DO LAUNDRY.

It seemed perfectly reasonable to me.  We all know what happens to me whenever vomit enters the fray.  I’m just surprised that I was able to remain in the same state building.

After everything had settled down and all evidence of dinner had been destroyed, Fiddledaddy remarked, “Well, at least we don’t have a dog.”

It’s always best, I think, to look for the bright side.  Even if you have to dig extra extra deep.



And it continues…

by Fiddledeedee on April 10, 2014

The tie-related banter between William Shatner, and the artist formerly known as Fiddledaddy, continued on today.  My husband, who also has talent as a graphic artist, put together this little collage for Mr. Shatner, which he posted on Twitter.  Or Instagram.  Or both.


Several Twitterers, Twits, or whatever, came to my husband’s defense by posting fashion forward pictures of Mr. Shatner from the 70′s.  A time when polyester ruled and everyone was highly flammable.


Who doesn’t think the Leisure Suit should make a return fashion appearance?  Said no one.  Ever.

Please know that this has all been in the name of good wholesome fun.  Mr. Shatner is hilarious, and my husband is enjoying the roasting tremendously.  It is also obvious that Mr. Shatner really is a fan of Star-Crossed and he even made mention that he would fight like H-E-double-toothpicks (H-E-double-toothpicks was not what he actually said, btw) to see Star-Crossed get picked up for a second season.  He did, however, make a prediction that Mr. Montrose (Fiddledaddy) could be killed off by the fashionista police.  He always leaves a ;-) after one of his barbs.

When a fan made mention “nice collage,” Mr. Shatner shot back something to the effect “and if this show doesn’t work out, he could get a job in, say, decoupage.”  Awesome.

At one point this afternoon, I actually had to go to Fiddledaddy’s office and say, “Honey, tell Bill you have to come eat lunch now.”



When worlds collide

by Fiddledeedee on April 9, 2014

This is an actual conversation that I had with Fiddledaddy last night.

Me:  “What are you doing?”

Him:  “I’m tweeting with William Shatner.”

Blink.  Blink.

William.  Shatner.  Captain James T. Kirk.  Of the Starship Enterprise.

Sometimes things are said in the context of married life that you would have never ever envisioned yourself hearing from your spouse.

Things like:  “You look FANTASTIC in stretchy pants, honey.”


“I’m tweeting with William Shatner.”

There is an explanation.  Of sorts.  Fiddledaddy is an actor.  He plays Mr. Montrose on the new CW show, Star-Crossed.  One of the best ways to gain popularity for a new show, in this day and age, is through social media.  Therefore, the cast of Star-Crossed often live tweet during the airing of the show.  In other words, many of them have Twitter accounts, and while the show is live, they Tweet using the hashtag #StarCrossed.  Thereby, anyone using this hashtag can see what everyone else is saying about the show.  Including the cast members.  This engages the fans and creates a media buzz.

Enter Mr. Shatner.  He is not surprisingly a fan of shows which feature science fiction.  And aliens.  He began watching Star-Crossed and joined in on the live tweeting.  After my husband’s screen appearance, Mr. Shatner was prompted to make mention of his wardrobe, particularly Fiddledaddy’s tie.  (Wardrobe, btw, is selected by a very talented costume designer for the show.  Fiddledaddy rarely makes use of ties in real life.)

A good-natured trading of barbs between my husband and CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK ensued.

Below is a brief excerpt of their conversation:


And then there was this:


Life.  It is weird.  Beam me up, Scottie.



Lasso the Moon, or get your hair a zip code

by Fiddledeedee on April 7, 2014

A long long time ago, I made my living at the second oldest profession in the world.  An actress.  I started in San Antonio doing theater, print, commercials, and the occasional music video.  Eventually I inched my way up to living and working in Dallas, and then headed west to the city of angels.

I just unearthed a video I made on the River Walk in San Antonio.  I think the last time I saw this thing was at the Midnight Rodeo in the early 1980′s, while I was out kicking up my boots with my dancing buddies.  The artist was Gary Morris, who to this day, is still one of my favorite country western singers.

In the video, I’m the blonde with the big hair, cutting in on a gal dancing with Gary.  After take 12, I may have warned him that I might throw up on his boots.  That girl I cut in on was and is my best friend in life, Kathy.  We met on the set of a commercial we were filming when we were in our very very early 20′s.  She has been a friend in every sense of the word for over 30 years now.  We live on separate coasts and I still miss her dearly.

Seeing this video again brought back a million memories, road trips, and growing up pains.  I now present, for your viewing pleasure in the event you have 3 or 4 minutes that you never want to get back, “Lasso the Moon.”



One man’s trash

April 1, 2014

This morning I overheard a conversation between Jensen and his dad that went something like this: Jensen:  “Dad, did someone pick up the old shelves that mommy threw out by the road?” (In my defense, they were old rickety rusted shelves that I had just paid $2 for at a garage sale, but Fiddledaddy put […]

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