My marriage, in three sentences.

Marrying your best friend definitely has it's advantages.

A love story, by Rachele & Zach Riley

Zach:  Hey girl, yeah.  Twerk it.  

Me:  But I dunno how to twerk it.

Zach:  Well, I guess that's something you need to twork on.

The end.

Xoxo, 

Riley Writes

A Post About Stuff

I've been pretty down in the dumps the past few days.  I've been trying to get a flight out of here on a military plane the past two weeks.  I get all excited and then it gets cancelled within hours of it being in my reach.  Did I mention I'm incredibly homesick?

Yeah, it sucks.  All of that aside though, no one wants to read a post about how homesick/sad I am.  So instead, I'll give you a post about stuff.  Stuff that I'm embarrassed about, book stuff and more stuff.  After all, that's the subtitle of my blog.  "A Fancy Little Blog About Stuff".  Tired of that word yet?

First off...let's start with the word "Shipping".  I've seen it on Tumblr a few times and had no idea what it meant so of course, I went to my trusted source of Urban Dictionary and got this Shipping: A term used to describe fan fictions that take previously created characters and put them as a pair. It usually refers to romantic relationships, but it can refer platonic ones as well. (Just think of "shipping" as short for "relationSHIP".)

Kinda cool, eh?  Yeah, yeah, I can picture you saying "Get to the point asshole, I have stuff to do."  Well, I ship "Delena".  "Who is this?" you say?  Only Damon and Elena from The Vampire Diaries.  I'm obsessed.  I'm a weirdo and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.  Granted most of them are like 13 year old girls but I will scream it loud and proud "I AM UNASHAMED!"

Also, I've been watching Doctor Who til my eyes bleed.  I love it.  Never thought I'd actually be interested in a science fiction show but now I absolutely have to have a sonic screwdriver and a Dalek alarm clock.  If you can find Matt Smith, I'll take him in my stocking. (Ahem, again with the Christmas gift hints.)

I've been wanting to read any and all books by Michael Pollan.  If you recall a few posts ago, I mentioned checking a book out from the library by him but I didn't get to read it.  In hindsight, I probably had the time to read it since all of my flights have been cancelled (nothing like beating a dead horse).  Anyways I asked on the local garage sale page if anyone had them for sale because if I were to buy them all for my Nook, and there is 6 of them, I'd be looking at $100+.  I'm a relatively fast reader and there aren't any used book stores around here. Sad face.  Then, an angel descended and said "I do have all of those books, plus 8,000 more e-books if you'd like to browse through them."

It's like a heaven for me.  So, I think I'm going to start doing bi-monthly book reviews.  Thoughts?  Yeah, neigh?

That's it for now.

Xoxo,
Riley Writes

Juicing....not just for steroids these days.

Was that too cliche?  Is that even the right cliche?  That's what steroids used to be called, right?  Ahh, Urban Dictionary.  I was right, just looked it up.

Yesterday started out like any normal day, my amazing neighbor brought over her juicer and we did what any two high functioning housewives with a penchant for bubbly do...we juiced oranges for mid day mimosas.  What did you think we were going to do?

In our defense, she brought over other stuff to juice, like healthy stuff that we most definitely didn't juice.  Priorities.  

Today, I woke up, did the womanly stuff like cleaning the kitchen, laundry and what have you.  Then I sat down to watch some Netflix.  In doing so I stumbled upon Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead.  It's a documentary about one man's pursuit for a healthier lifestyle and to rid himself of autoimmune issues by healing through juiced fruits and veggies.  I've heard of juicing before, never given it much thought though.  We've discussed buying a juicer plenty of times.  In fact, it was one of the reasons we stood in Macy's for 30 minutes while deciding if we wanted a Ninja or not.  We went with the Ninja but thoughts of getting a juicer have never been too far from our minds. 

I was in shock and awe of this documentary.  Autoimmune diseases have a special place in my family. When Joe Cross mentioned being on Prednisone, a steroid my mother frequently uses when she's having an MS attack, it resonated with me.  This man went from being overweight, on a high dose steroids, and dealing with a sometimes crippling disease to changing his whole lifestyle to start taking care of himself and really living.  About 20 minutes til the end, my husband came home and watched the rest of it with me.  It took all of 5 minutes for us to decide what our next investment would be.

Taaa-daaa!  We had our very first juicing experience (other than the mimosas) tonight.  I took pictures because in this day and age, "Pics or it didn't happen!"  There was a lot of inappropriate talk of being shot in the eye, not getting rid of the white stuff, squeezing and just about all the other innuendos you can think of.  There was juggling of oranges, peelings of lemons, puppies in the kitchen and more inappropriate banter because I seem to hang out with people who are equally as crude as myself.   Which is fine by me, because if you aren't aware already, I happen to find myself incredibly entertaining.

Our ingredients.

The husband, doing as he's told.

The neighbor, also doing as she's told.  She goes by Erin most of the time or The Neighbor.  Sometimes I like that because it sounds chummy.

Oh hush.  Don't even act like you know anything about removing labels from spaghetti sauce jars.   It'll come off eventually.  I'm lazy, you know this.

That would be a puppy head, in the kitchen where he clearly should not be.

Zach made the Post Workout Punch.  He enjoyed it so much, he made another!

I feel the need to address the spot on my shirt.  It's ice cream and I'm unashamed.  You feed that PMS monster whatever it wants.  Even if it's a double scoop of Jamocha Almond Fudge immediately after purchasing a juicer.  To quote my husband "You see the irony in this, right?"  I do Zachary, I do.

The odd little Guam family that juices together, drinks out of spaghetti jars together.

I think it's been decided that Zach and I will do a juice cleanse once I get back from my vacation (if I can ever get a flight).  I apologize for the quality of these photos, my camera is packed up in my carry on and I have no desire to mess with that jigsaw puzzle for the sake of better quality pictures.  

Happy juicing things that aren't steroids!

Xoxo

Riley Writes

I drink wine because tomato soup and dogs.

Okay ladies and gents, I've decided to bestow another yummy delicious and clean recipe upon you.  Tomato soup happens to be one of my favorite soups, next to my grandmothers potato soup and the potato soup from Chili's.

Also, I decided to write this right away because if I don't, I'll probably have a Hannah Handbag.  I'm 99.9% positive she peed on the carpet because the little asshole doesn't like to go outside.  To be honest, I'm beginning to think she's the culprit behind a lot of things.  As well as a Henry area rug because someone has a penchant for mommy's underwear...only instead of hoarding it like he normally does (I can find anywhere from 1-5 pairs in his kennel at any given time), he decided to shred this pair into little shards.  Seriously.  He's outside right now for the 23495th time today.  And he's sitting at the door staring, he's been outside for less than 5 minutes.  I feel like they both need shirts that they can parade around in saying "I'm the reason Mommy likes wine."  Christmas gift, think about it.  Oh and also since we're talking Christmas gifts, I can always use wine.

Back to the recipe.  So in reading that super awesome book Sugar Salt Fat or whichever order that goes in, I got to reading about the sugar content in well, everything.  Long story short, read the book and be amazed.  So naturally, this includes canned soup.  Nothing reminds me of home more than eating tomato soup and grilled cheese which my dad was amazing at making.  It's been a staple in my life for years.  So naturally, I'd want to find and make a healthier version.  I scoured Pinterest for recipes as well as Google and a couple other places.  Basically, tomatoes, onions garlic, salt, pepper, oregano and whatever else you feel like throwing in there.  I decided to share my recipe because me being me, I look at most recipes and think "Eh....I don't need this, I can figure it out my own."

Sometimes it's awesome, other times it's utterly disastrous.  Then Zach says something along the lines of "Did you actually read the directions all the way through this time?"  And I respond by rolling my eyes and saying "Who do you think I am?  Of course I read the directions."  But by directions, I really mean ingredients so about 15-20 minutes in to whatever it is I'm making...there's an obligatory "F*$%ing ghatdamnit!"  Then without missing a beat Zach says something like "I told you to read the recipe, that's your karma for lying to me about it."

How does he know?!

Tomato Soup!

• 5-6 tomatoes (I prefer on the vine since I'm in Guam and that's the best I can get but beefsteak or roma would probably be ideal).  If you're using those other ones, adjust accordingly to size. Roughly three pounds of tomato
• 1 carton cherry tomatoes
• 1 carton grape tomatoes
• 1 sweet onion
• Olive Oil
• 4 cloves of minced or crushed garlic
• Salt & Pepper to taste
• Vegetable or Chicken broth.  This is optional.  I've made it with and without, but I just made some awesome veggie broth and wanted to use it.  
• Oregano, I dunno, a tablespoon or so?  Whatever works for you.
• Basil  - optional

So, I cut my tomatoes into quarters and de-seeded them with a spoon.  This is optional.  I didn't do it last time, it really made no difference.  I cut my cherry and grape tomatoes in half, no need to remove those seeds, that's tedious and I'm lazy.  Then I chopped the onion up into pieces and laid it all out on a baking sheet covered in foil.  Once again, I'm lazy, less clean up.  

I preheated the oven to 350, drizzled olive oil and minced garlic on top of the tomatoes and onions.  

Popped it in the oven til the tomatoes were mushy and onions were turning translucent.   It took about an hour because there were a lot of tomatoes on that baking sheet.  I turned them over a few times.  Purely preference.  Then I realized after I forgot to season it so I put the salt, pepper and oregano on there, let it cook for another 15 minutes until the juices were starting to pool at the bottom. 

After this was all done, I threw it in the food processor to make the chunks smaller.  It's really all about what you prefer.  After that, I added it to my pot, added my vegetable stock (about 16 ounces if I remember correctly) and turned it on to boil.  After it started boiling, I put it on low to simmer and basically forgot about it because I had other stuff to do like play Candy Crush and take Henry in and out and in and out and in and out.

We paired our soup with our balsamic/Jack Daniels marinated steak I found on Pinterest (of course).  The final product was delicious.  Last time I made it, I threw some brats in there for added deliciousness....it was perfect as was tonight's dinner.  I highly recommend it.

Happy Eating! 

Xoxo

Riley Writes

P.S  You can follow me on Pinterest by going here: http://pinterest.com/sissybug0726/

Home Is Where The Heart Is

I've been giving a lot of thought about the word "home" lately.  I met our new neighbors last night and mentioned I would be going "home" for a short while.  Someone asked me about my travel plans and without thinking I said I was going "home".  "Home to Washington, then home to Idaho and home to Florida.  After which I'll return to my home in Guam."  You're probably thinking "Why does she consider all these places home?"

Hear me out.  What if I'm like Voldemort?  What if pieces of my heart and soul are scattered throughout the states and instead of horcruxes, they're actually people?  Plus I have a nose and I'm not trying to kill any teen wizards.  So I have that going for me.  Plus I rather like my nose.

It makes sense right?  Because home is where your heart is and my heart happens to be all over the place.

Home is flying across oceans to be with your best friend because she needs you and you need her.  It's watching movies and drinking hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows, to help cope with life's unfairness.

Home is where you grew up, where your cherished friends and childhood remains. Memories abound, not always good but mostly wonderful.

Home is where your parents, sisters, niece, nephew, grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins are.  Where your niece has dubbed you "weechle" and says she misses you on her own accord.  Your family will put up with your crazy notions because they love you.

Home is Monsters, Midget, Sunshine and the Snagglepooch are.  Monsters and Midgets you've seen grow up before your very eyes, start school and become young women.  It's also where you have experienced loss and excruciating pain beyond belief but you were never alone, not for a second

And finally, last but definitely not least, home is where I get to wake up next to the man of my dreams, get my hands nibbled on obnoxiously by my fur children and where I recharge my batteries so I can be ready for anything that life throws at me.  I get to be obnoxious, silly and apologize when I'm being an ass.  I get to feel real, deep love and devotion that I thought only existed in the greatest romances novels of our time.

That's where my home is.

Xoxo
Riley Writes

Ridiculousness and bacon

I have a few other blogs in the making with recipes and horror stories about our a/c going out.  But for now, I leave you with an update.

My Practical Paleo book came in!  Hooray.  I've been waiting for it forever(7 days to be exact!).  The bookstore was really awesome about calling me as soon as it came in because I told them I was leaving the country but not sure when.  Also, it could have been because I called three or four times and they were tired of hearing from me.

Crazy dreams again?  Yep.  They always seem to be particularly crazy when I'm under a lot of stress.  So last night/this morning I dreamed (is that even the right word?) that I was at some sort of fundraiser with a bunch of rich people and a woman who I don't particularly care for.  Then somehow that transpired to me winning something but couldn't find my ticket until it was too late.  I was so depressed I started cooking bacon (like a whole pound because I love bacon) and decided to run an errand.  Go to run my errand and my car miraculously turns into a riding lawnmower...which coincidentally runs out of gas so I text my husband and he doesn't return my texts.  What's a girl to do but sleep on her riding lawn mower in the middle of a street surrounded by wheat fields.

Then I woke up...kind of.  I managed to trip over my suitcase (aptly so since it was laying in the middle of my bedroom floor and I was still pretty asleep), tripping over that sent me running into the wall saying a sleepy obscenity.  After I made it out of the maze I call my bedroom, my eyes were still shut because there were lights on, I managed to walk into the wall next to the bathroom door, saying another obscenity and praying my husband didn't see or hear any of it.

"kjsdakj you didn't give me gas for my lawn mower."  Of course it was jumbled and probably whispery because loud noises don't help you get back to sleep.

"What are you talking about?  Are you okay?  I heard you trip."

"My lawn mower ran out of gas and I was frying bacon.  I had a dream about it."

"I'd say it was alcoholic bacon with as many walls as you ran into on your way to the bathroom."

I did my business, crawled back into bed and all I could muster up was "Have a good day, I love you.  I don't understand why you didn't answer my text and bring my lawnmower gas.  I had to sleep on the lawnmower."

"Don't get mad, it was just a dream babe.  Of course I'd bring you gas for your lawn mower."

"I'm not mad, I just don't understand why you didn't check your phone until 5:40 a.m.  I was in trouble and needed you.  I had to sleep on the lawnmower babe."

He did as he does every morning, kissed me on the forehead (probably to avoid morning/dragon breath) and said he loves me.  Why or how he loves me is an utter mystery.   I'm ridiculous most days.

Xoxo
Riley Writes

Paleo Chicken Pot Pie Recipe

I've been craving me some good ol' fashioned home cooking.  Basically, chicken pot pie.  I love chicken pot pie, it's always held a special place in my heart, the crust, the yummy goodness on the inside and the homey feeling it evokes.  It makes you think of your mother or grandmother.  Or in my case, my aunt and my roommate.  They would make the most delicious chicken pot pie ever.  Maybe it was because it was made with love or laced with crack...one can never be sure.

If you follow this blog occasionally or read my Facebook, you'll know that recently, I've been at war with grains, processed foods and a few other things here and there.  I call it a war because a war is made of battles...and I battle every. single. day.  You probably think I'm joking but let me tell you what...there was a lot of Halloween candy at the commissary today and I accidentally missed breakfast.  Long story short, I'm a candy junkie and a sucker (pun intended) for pastas and breads.

Back to the chicken pot pie.  I scavenged Pinterest as I always do for last minute recipes, I stumbled across tons of paleo chicken pot pie recipes but couldn't decide because they were all labor intensive and I'm incredibly lazy.  I found this one at fedandfit.com and was all "I can totally do this!"  Then I read that it takes about two hours and was all "Hahahahhahaha nope."  In the end and after much internal debate, I decided to stick with it because I was really hungry and really wanted chicken pot pie.

If you've looked at the recipe, you would have noted that it makes 8 individual pies.  We don't need 8 servings, especially since there is just two of us.  Also, I hate coconut milk.  It's a staple in the paleo world but I just can't stand it.  So in my head, I thought "Gee, I can modify this and make it work probably more than likely.  Should I still do it? What if I don't put the coconut milk in it? Do I want to do this?  Yeah, I really want to used my new knife set to chop shit up like a boss."

I baked the pot pie in a 9x13 pan because even though I act like an adult (sporadically), I don't have as many baking pans as I should.

You can look at the recipe on the link.  I made a few substitutions and whatnot so I'll list what I did here.

Crust:
2 cups almond flour/almond meal (same thing)
1/3 cup coconut oil
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon of water
1 teaspoon sea salt, I used mine from a grinder but also, I didn't measure it.  I eyeball it because...I have an eyeball to do so.
1 egg -  for the egg wash.

- You're supposed to pulse the dry ingredients, then gradually add the coconut oil which should still be in it's solid form.  After all that's said and done, add your tablespoon of water gradually.  Except mine wasn't gradual, because I'm a rebel on a time crunch.  Then wrap it up in some saran wrap and store it in the fridge until you're ready to use it.

Innards:
1 whole white/yellow onion chopped
4 carrots chopped into however you feel like doing it
1/3 bell pepper chopped
1 can of low sodium broth - you're supposed to make your own according to the recipe that you most definitely read but I made some once and it was awful so I used a can. Whatevs, I'm busy. < Facebooking and whatnot.
2 chicken breasts
1 teaspoon or tablespoon of olive oil
Salt & Pepper

I baked my boneless, skinless chicken breasts at 350 until about 145 degrees.me.  Except, right before, I realized that I had still left the overnight oven cleaner in the oven for about a week.  We had to take a short time out to scrub it so naturally, that added to my estimated time.  After all that was said and done I started the chicken.  While that was baking, I sauteed the onions until they were translucent.  After that, I added the carrots and bell peppers into the pan with the onions and added the broth.  Boiled that for a bit until the chicken was done, chopped the chicken, added that to the pan and added some almond meal to thicken it up.  It didn't get thick like a regular pot pie, I boiled away most of the liquid so it was somewhat of a soup consistency.

I added it all to the baking pan, then utilized the handsome studly man I married to help me roll out the crust between two pieces of wax paper and flipped it onto the filling.  There was no bottom crust but I was surprised at how much I didn't care.  I slathered the egg onto the crust and put it in the oven at 350 and kept it in there until the crust browned.

It was delicious and even the husband said so.  I will definitely be making it again.

Happy eating!
Xoxo
Riley Writes

Books & Chia Seeds

I'm a fairly simple person, at least I'd like to think so.  I don't require a lot to keep me happy, I think I'm hilarious so I'm pretty great at entertaining myself.  A good book does wonders for my psyche and generally, seeing my husband can turn even the foulest of moods into a smile.

So just imagine how excited I am that I visited the library today!  And that I'm going to yoga later.  Oh and that I'm making some of that amazing homemade raspberry chia seed lemonade.  It's fantastic and you should try it.  (You know you want to.  Why, you ask?  Because chia seeds are nature's super food.  Fancy little seeds that have no taste, are rich in Omega 3's, help keep you hydrated and have tons of fiber.)  You can read more about them here: Wellness Mama  and here Nuts.com.

We invested in one of those hand juicer things and I am entirely way more excited than I should be about it.  I know you're probably thinking "Jeez, get with the program...we all have fancy electric juicers that also weave baskets underwater."  I said I was a fairly simple person.  I made homemade orange juice for my husband yesterday.  It was perfection in a jar.  A jar, you may ask...yes well.  I happen to save all my jars because I feel guilty throwing them out.  My super awesome neighbor also went above and beyond and bought me a bag of lemons so I can make said lemonade!  How sweet is that?!  I know, right?  She's pretty legit. I think this time around, I may make blueberry lemonade.  The possibilities are endless!

Another thing I'm pretty ridiculously excited about is I finally bought a hardback copy of Practical Paleo by Diane Sanfillippo.  I bought the book for my Nook and it's great, but there are a lot of bullets, charts and things of that nature that don't transfer too well to an e-book.  It will be here in two weeks!  Until that time, I visited the library and stocked up on eye and brain candy.  Seriously, the Dewey Decimal System brings a huge smile to my face.  I remember learning about it when I was in grade school and thinking to myself "This is awesome."  I got my kicks out of looking for things in a card catalog and writing down the numbers.  Ah, the good old days.

Lately I've been reading a lot of books about the food industry, food in general and the effects it has on your body.  My most recent read is Sugar Salt Fat by Michael Moss.  It's about the food industry and they way they make their products to leave us wanting more.  (Hello Spaghettio addiction)  It's eye opening, mind boggling and it's definitely helping me think twice about I've been putting in my body.

I also checked out a book by Michael Pollan called In Defense Of Food - An Eater's Manifesto because well, I'm an eater.  I love food (clearly) and I think it's important that I start treating my body the way it should be treated.  I'll probably write a review of it after I'm finished, in case anyone was interested.  And if not, well you can skip that entry :)

Well, I'm off to go lift heavy things (hopefully).  

Xoxo

Riley Writes

The Little Can Opener Who Can't

Once upon a time there was a can opener purchased from the BX (which is short for Base Exchange, which I learned recently because I've only been living here for a year and a half).  The can opener was soooo awful, its owners purchased another one because it broke within a month.  They felt bad though so they kept it for good measure.  The new can opener was shiny and came with a bottle cap remover.  It was the loveliest in all the land of their kitchen.  Until one day, it rode into battle with a child who had no idea how to use it.  The can opener was no match for Spaghettios and died an awful death, parts flying everywhere.  It's master was saddened by the sudden loss but alas, she moved on with her life and bought a much newer, much safer can opener that lifts the lid instead of cutting into it.  She was elated at the thought of never having to worry about cutting herself on a sharp lid again.

This is literally the worst can opener I have ever owned in my life.  I cannot operate it for the life of me.  If we aren't friends on Facebook, (which we probably are but I'm going to post the picture anyways because it needs repeating)...I digress and forgot where I was going but here:

Ten minutes, a pair of needle nose pliers, a fork, a butter knife and a flat head screwdriver.  Oh and my new can opener too.  It's one of those safe cut ones or whatever.  Anyways, somehow that incredible guy I married figured it out and showed me multiple times before ^ this happened.   He's amazing, have I mentioned that?  I also would love to say that this is an isolated incident, unfortunately it's not.

So tonight, I'm making paleo spaghetti but of course (actually I was going to make paleo zucchini ravioli but that's a story for another night), I need to get the tomato sauce and paste open (since I make my own spaghetti sauce).  Zach and I are doing our ballet in the kitchen (not literally of course) and he's doing trying to make juice.  I think his spidey senses tingled because as soon as I opened the drawer, it was as if he knew what was going to happen.  Not wanting to recreate the picture above, he offered to do it for me because he's my husband and manly and stuff.  But in more of a "I don't want you mutilating those cans" kinda way.

"I don't know if it will work because the cans are too small."  "I wish I would have read the directions."  Then I piped in that I read the directions and he just looked at me because to be honest, I didn't understand the pictures.  Who puts pictures of directions other than Ikea?  Be serious Ecko.  < That's the brand so you know never to buy can openers from them at the BX in Guam.  

Then this happened: 

You're probably wondering why he looks angry.  It may have been because a certain someone was taunting him about not being able to get the can opener to open the cans and then I snapped a picture because I couldn't stop laughing.  By this time, I realized we had been defeated and decided to take my cans over to my neighbor to open.  

Then this!  Happiness is a neighbor who lets you borrow a good can opener until you buy a new one.  Hooray!  Dinner can commence!

Of course, then there is a little issue of it tasting absolutely awful because I'm 97% positive that the tomato paste was bad.  I don't know...does tomato paste normally have a layer of rusted orange color? 

Zach - "Babe, is it supposed to taste like this?"

"It tastes a little off to me, I don't think I'm going to eat it."

Zach - "Seriously?  You put all this work into it.  Now I feel bad.  What's the expiration date on the bottom of the can?"

"Ehh...let me look.  It's not there and don't feel bad."

Zach - "Rachele, seriously, there is no expiration date whatsoever?  Did you even look at the top/bottom of the can?  I suppose if you aren't eating it, I should be scared since you eat anything."

"Hmmm, it says 2004 (dramatic pause as I realize I can't read properly nor can I speak math)...AHHHHH sorry, I can't read.  There's a one in there. 2014.  Cool your jets, we aren't getting food poisoning tonight.  Or we might if we eat it.  I don't know.  There's a chance maybe."

"Wait...did you just say I eat everything?"

Zach made a turkey sandwich and I ate a nectarine and neither of us have food poisoning.  Yet.

Xoxo

Riley Writes

The ants go marching one by one...

I think the one think I will not miss in any way, shape or form is rainy season.  I love the rain, don't get me wrong.  It reminds me of home.  Fall, winter, spring and summer in Washington.  Just kidding, only the first 3 and a half seasons.  But really, I love the rain.  I especially love it here because it goes away fast, it's generally warm and it's incredibly relaxing.

What I don't miss and/or love are the horrendous ant infestations after a really hard rain.  Case in point:  We live on a hill...last year it was pretty rainy and I walked outside to see "black" tomatoes on my vines as well as dying roots from the excess water.  Upon closer examination I see that these "black" tomatoes are actually covered in itty bitty ants.  Nevermind the fact that I had ants under my stove, in my dishwasher, my potted plants and just about everywhere you could possibly imagine.  We eradicated the issue with lots of traps, pesticides, voodoo magic and the blood of a chicken.  It was lovely.

A few days ago, I saw two ants on the floor while I was scrubbing my grout.  Whatever.  Not that big of a deal.  Then I saw an ant in the trash can.  Just one, which I thought was odd but I looked high and low without seeing any others.

Yesterday while I was at the BX...it went from being overcast to having water up to my ankles in a matter of 10 minutes.  It should have given me some sort of inkling.  So I should have figured it was going to happen.  Driving home at about 10 MPH, I noted how deep the water was on the streets below us (because we live on a hill) and remembered how bad it was last year...(I didn't realize our voodoo magic had worn off, Silly Rachele).  No ants though, we're in the clear.

Fast forward to today:  "Zach, make sure to let the babies out and feed them before you go into work, I'll be home soon(ish).  You're the best, love you!"

Then this happened:

Ugh.  He was right too.  There were ants all over the place!  All in the expensive dog food we buy (because apparently I'm not the only one in the family with food sensitivities.)  I saw where my awesome husband had waged war in the kitchen.  I literally spent in excess of three hours scrubbing my floors, not three days ago!  Not, the floors are littered with the corpses of ants.  Awesome.  So I do what any housewife would do (I think)  and I spray them more.  Then sweep the remnants up.  However not wanting to be outdone, I can't seem to sweep them out of the grout.  Of course.

And yeah, I'm pretty sure I got crop dusted while waiting for my doctor's appointment...

I think today may be a long day.

Xoxo

Riley Writes