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A Christmas Poem

As Cailey was penning her poem last week, she asked if I had ever written a poem.  “Why yes, yes I have!”  This was a little something that I wrote way back around Christmas of ’07.  I find it comforting to realize that some things really never change…I’m going to be taking the week to celebrate the end of our first semester and Fiddledaddy’s birthday.  So I may be pulling a couple more Christmas- past posts out of the mothballs.

Twas two days before Christmas when all through the house, the Rum Balls were made, the mommy was soused.

The stockings were flung to the floor with no care,
in hopes that a maid, soon would be there.

I felt not like cooking, see my sad bunioned feet,
So to Sonic we flew, so we could all eat.

A foot long chili dog, some onion rings to boot
I knew then and there, they’d give me the scoots.

Dash away home, Fiddledaddy, fly like the wind,
Cut off all those cars, an apology I’ll send.

At last we are home, Pepto Bismol in hand,
I tuck in the children, before the floor will I land.

The begged and they pleaded, just a few minutes more,
“No way,” did I mutter, as I fast close the door.

I settle in my room, my computer I hold,
I’m exhausted, and spent, I type in all bold.

When out in the kitchen, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my hotpad, to see what was the matter.

Rum Balls were scattered, my gasp made him jump,
Fiddledaddy looked guilty, I helped him clean up.

The house is now quiet, the parents are pooped,
We set up the clocks, the children were duped.

We look at each other, it all seems just right, I sigh as I say,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.”


The Father’s Day Card

Besides Chocolate Covered Bacon, Fiddledaddy also had a plethora of cards and notes awaiting him early on Father’s Day morning.  One such card was from his young son.  It was particularly heart warming.


Later in the day Fiddledaddy posted it to his Instagram account with the following hashtags:  #Tyrannosaurus eating a #Psittacosaurus w/ #Triceratops seeking salad. For #FathersDay. My heart overflows.

I’m pretty sure that my son has a future with Hallmark.

We are accepting donations to the therapy fundBTW.


And it continues…

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

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.


Good dental hygiene goes a long long way

Disclaimer:  I did get permission from my daughter to write the following story.  And I’m now down one quarter.  Totally worth it.

Additional Disclaimer:  I did have more camping info to share, I just became slightly disgusted with myself after realizing that most of my really great camping tips actually came from you all long ago, when I first asked for camping advice.  The mind.  It is a terrible thing to allow to rot.

My girls love to volunteer at church.  I support this endeavor wholeheartedly as it alleviates any guilt I might feel about NOT volunteering at present time.  I put in many many years teaching Sunday School, as well as a good 4 or 5 years leading an Awana group.  I felt the need to stop when I developed a distracting tic.  It seems that between homeschooling and volunteering at the children’s department at church, I may have spent a tad too much time around children.

I took refuge in one of the empty classrooms on Saturday night, as we arrived at church early for the girl’s volunteering duties.  I took the opportunity to grade the previous weeks schoolwork, as I’ve discovered that there are not nearly enough hours in the day for me to get everything done.

The children’s pastor walked by and spied me in the classroom, “AHA, I KNEW WE’D WEAR YOU DOWN AND GET YOU TO VOLUNTEER!”  I chuckled, “Oh no, my friend, THAT COULD BRING DOWN THE ENTIRETY OF THE CHILDREN’S MINISTRY!” And I’m not even kidding.

So I send my minions to do my bidding.

Anyhoo.  Bright and early on Sunday morning I pulled up in the church parking lot to deposit the teenager for duty.  I had stopped at McDonald’s to pick her up a Sausage Burrito as atonement for the lack of breakfast options in our own refrigerator.  After eating, and before facing anyone publicly, Emme has a ritual of flossing her teeth.  Since she’s used to eating in the car, she keeps a spool of floss in the side of the door.  I sat chatting with her in the van during the morning flossing ritual.  It was a one-sided conversation though, as Emme seriously gets into the act of flossing.  She is thorough.  I’ve worried that she might swallow her whole hand at times.

As she finally exits the vehicle on the passenger side, I get out and hear an audible squeal.  It seems that I inadvertently parked beside the only other car in the parking lot.  I watch her as she quickly rounds the back of the van, her face ashen.  In her best inside voice she accusingly whispers, “Mom, you parked next to a teenaged BOY.  Who is still in the car.  AND HE SAW ME FLOSSING MY TEETH!”

Like I planned it.  Which actually would have been brilliant since I strive to put as much distance between my daughter and ALL teenaged boys.  (Which reminds me that I need to call my dad and apologize again for all that I put my parents through when I was my daughter’s age.)

“It coulda been worse, at least you weren’t picking your nose.”


It’s the little parenting moments that bring me the most joy.


Kind of a little exciting around here

TomHillmann-Star-Crossed-a copy

I may have mentioned late last year that Fiddledaddy, the actor, had begun working on a new show called Star Crossed for the CW network.  He plays the dad of one of the leads, Grey Damon. Grey is a very nice young man who my teenaged daughter likes to refer to as her “hot older brother”.


Anyhoo, the show began airing a couple of weeks ago.  Fiddledaddy’s episodes begin airing next Monday night.  SO EXCITED!  I watched the first two episodes and will admit that I’m loving the show.  And I’m not biased at ALL.  Fiddledaddy’s story arc will carry over at least 4 episodes. But keep watching them all.

Is he a good guy or a bad guy?  I could tell you what I know, but then this blog would self destruct.  They don’t even tell him anything until he gets a script.  He doesn’t even not know what happens in the episodes he hasn’t appeared in.  Top secret stuff.

We’re hoping that with the power of social media, this show takes off and gets picked up for a second season.  So if any of you all are social media savvy, and you like the show, we’d love it if you could help get the word out. Follow him as he tweets out exclusive stuff, and retweet him.  His Facebook page also has a sharable eFlyer you can share on your timeline. Do I have any idea what I’m saying right now?  No.  I suddenly gave myself and technologically induced hot flash.

So far we’re able to let our two older kids watch, but I will warn you that there is some language.  I really don’t know about mature themes and content for the 17 and younger crowd, I would definitely police it before letting them view the show.

And after all this excitement, it’s back to the real world for us.  As evidenced by a snippet of a conversation overheard between two of our offspring this morning, “Nuh-uh, I farted AFTER you kicked me.”

My parenting book will be forthcoming.


The Doctor is in the house

If you’re not a fan of “Doctor Who,” this post will make no sense at all.  And if you are a fan, I’ll be careful not to reveal any SPOILERS.

Which that in itself, is a spoiler.

As a family, we’re fairly new Doctor Who converts.  I had never heard of the show until my friend, Jenny, enlightened me.  Doctor Who is a television show on the BBC that we were able to access through the magic of Netflix.  The show originated many years ago and was brought back as a series of specials.  It was then picked up in 2005 and continues to this day.  Doctor Who is the continuing adventures of The Doctor (no one knows his real name, well, there may be one person, but once again, SPOILERS) who is a Time Lord, traveling through time and space in his TARDIS (code for blue Police Public Call Box) battling evil and avoiding the destruction of the universe.  The Doctor is around 907 years old, give or take, and he never really dies, he simply regenerates.  Thusly allowing a new actor to assume the role once the previous Doctor’s contract expires.  Same Doctor.  New face.

My children were the first to get hooked.  I would occasionally catch a few minutes here and there, and soon I found myself mesmerized.  But woefully confused.  So I had to start from the first season, on the first episode entitled “Rose” which featured confusingly, the 9th Doctor.  I have to admit that I get attached to the at-the-time-current Doctor in question, and then when he “regenerates” and a new actor assumes the role, I think THAT’S IT, I’M DONE WITH THIS RIDICULOUS SHOW.  But then I like the next doctor better than the one before.  Fickle.  That’s the word you’re looking for.

The Doctor travels with companions.  He typically doesn’t prefer to be alone, so he makes friends along the way.  And they share in his adventures.

The show is a smidgen hokey and very Sci-Fi wibbley wobbley timey whimy stuff.  That’s a quote, by the way.  But it has spawned a few new catch phrases in our house which will send the children screaming.  Such as:

“Don’t blink.”

“There’s something on your back.”


“HEY! Who turned out the lights?”

From a parenting perspective, the only drawback is the occasional use of the H-E-DOUBLE TOOTHPICKS word.  But that’s it.  I’ve warned my children that if they ever utter that word and it’s not in the context of the Bible, that’s it.  Their Doctor Who days are O-V-E-R.

I am currently on the 11th Doctor, the beginning of season 6, with his faithful companions, Amy and Rory.  This cast is my favorite so far.  (But Donna holds a special place in my heart.)  My kids are ahead of me, but I’ve threatened their very lives if they should divulge any spoilers.


Bow ties are cool.

It should be noted that my son asked for Doctor Who action figures and a Fez for his birthday.  I think I’m going to wrap up a salt shaker and call it a Dalek.  (Inside Doctor Who joke.)

Cailey got into the spirit of Doctor Who by creating a TARDIS Valentine’s box for a recent party.


And she just created the 11th Doctor and Amy Pond Rainbow Loom figures.  I think she has an artistic future.


Any other Doctor Who fan-atics out there?  Who is your favorite Doctor and/or favorite sidekick?



Red Neck Wine

A couple of years ago our American Heritage Girls scouting troop had a Father/Daughter dance themed “Duck Dynasty.”  I have to admit that I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.  Some friends filled me in and I sent Fiddledaddy off bedecked in flannel and camouflage.  Still, I was perplexed.

Because we got rid of our cable and instead erected an antenna on the house (only because the coat hanger and foil were unsightly), I had never seen the actual show.  I knew the basic premise, but had not fully experienced Uncle Si, Phil, Willie,  Ms. Kay and the gang.

Then the A&E controversy exploded after the GQ interview, which I have to say in my heart that I believe was a calculated move on A&E’s part because YOU CANNOT PAY FOR PUBLICITY LIKE THAT.

And sure enough, I was curious.  We were able to pull up the first season of Duck Dynasty through our Wii on Amazon Prime (free).  And I watched.  And I laughed until tears flew from my eyes.  I can close my eyes and listen to Ms. Kay talk and I SWEAR I’m hearing my sweet Aunt Audine.

I know I know.  Reality TV.  Mostly scripted.  But good golly, I love that family.   We have Seasons 2 and 3 on hold at the library.  It may be awhile, we’re way down on the list.  Lots of our neighbors evidently have the same plan.

Anyhoo.  The point of this post.  I KNOW.  A POINT.  How novel.  Jensen and I were in WalMart a while back and noticed a Duck Commander Wine display.  “MOM, we’ve got to get THAT for Dad.”  I thought I’d check with him first to see if he was game.  I mean, we saw the “we just bought a winery” episode and the sight of Uncle Si stomping grapes with his bare feet was seared into my frontal cortex.

Time went by and this week I sat putting together my WalMart shopping list.  Jensen loudly reminded me, “DON’T FORGET THE DUCK DYNASTY WINE, MOM!”  Thereby solidifying our redneck status.


(Fiddledaddy thought it would be fun to photograph the label in front of my algae-infested aquarium. Whatever.)

I just caught sight of Fiddledaddy trying to unscrew it, since that’s what you might expect from Duck Commander wine.  Alas, a corkscrew was dispatched.  Fiddledaddy has deemed it delicious.  And it’s less than $9.00.  No, I haven’t tried it.  I don’t know good wine from bad wine.  I was ruined in my impetuous youth by Mad Dog 20/20.

One thing that I appreciate about the sale of this wine is that it has been put out by Duck Commander, so the profits belong to the family business.

Bottoms up, y’all.