Oh MY, Maybe Fogwaughism is Genetic!

Visited with #2 Son and family this weekend and had a GRAND time.  Quite literally.  The coming three year old kept us entertained and the baby is sure a happy little camper.

I do believe perhaps the #1 Granddaughter has inherited some Fogwaugh traits, especially in the Fashion Diva department.

I snapped this of her when she got ready to go outside:

I believe this photo has great possibilities down the road in about 13 - 14 years when she wants her first prom dress.  We can tell her she doesn't need a $350 dress to look spiffy and here is the Proof.

Baby Brother was dolled up for a day in the swing and quite the fashion statement himself in a polar bear cap, and suit with polar bear faces on his feet.

He is probably destined to grow up to become the Great White Hunter of the North bringing in the Moby Dick Bear from Yellowstone or something else equally important and famous.

"Nana, this is your fault. They both take after YOU not me,

 look at how you dress in those horse t-shirts and sweats," - #2 Son.

Yup, I'll take the heat on this one.

Fogwaugh's Life Biography

Fogwaugh's Originator, aka Hubby, is having a 40th High School Reunion this summer.  He needed a biography and I give it to you in it's entirety:

" I went to the Senior Kegger and Woke up with A Wife and 2 Kids."

The One and The Only Mr. Fogwaugh - several years AFTER the Kegger.

Always the kidder ain't he?  Once a Fogwaugh, always a Fogwaugh.  Or a Fogwaugh Never Dies.  Fogwaughs Forever...I'm sure there is a logo there for him somewhere. I must admit, though, life does go by fast.  Way too fast. Sigh....


Found the cutest little girl's purse pattern on Ottobre Magazine's website that I do believe #1 Granddaughter just must have! It's under the Free Link. I might have to get a couple of issues of this magazine.  It's from Finland but they do have an English version.   Hope to get the purse done this weekend and maybe one or two of my casserole carriers. I promise to post all this later when they are finished.


The casserole carrier came about because I needed a gift for a wedding reception and decided I wanted to MAKE something.  But I sure could not find any pattern I liked on-line so made my own pattern.  It turned out well but I neglected to take a picture of it before I gave it away.  However, Daughter In Law, said SHE wanted one so I am going to fire up the sewing machine and make several. 


In the meantime, check out Ottobre Magazine.  There are four children's issues a year and two women's.

So we part with a high-five to Fogwaughism!

It's a Fogwaugh Christmas -- Full of LIES!

Well of course, in America, most parents lie to their kids about those presents under the tree.  Santa brought them.  But if your child believes in Abner Fogwaugh, one must elevate the tale to Super Believable!!  SUPER.

Hubby started it even before we were married when he told Da Niece, who was about six at the time, that he didn't want no reindeer pooping on her roof, so he was going to shoot Santa.  That poor kid almost had a nervous breakdown.  She shadowed her Uncle everywhere for four weeks making sure he didn't shoot Santa!  I think she was relieved when Christmas as finally over.

Granddaughter #1 first Christmas - too young to be Fogwaughed!

It got rough on Hubby to make No. 2 Son believe in Fogwaugh, mainly because No. 1 Son was right there clueing his little brother on Dad's whoppers.

But mercifully, No. 1 maintained his silence at Christmas.

Hubby came up with the Christmas Eve 'drive to see the lights'. As we went out the door someone would duck back and put all the presents under the tree.  And we all enjoyed the ritual driving around our little community to see the wonderful displays of Christmas Lights.

Upon our arrival back home, we could hear sleigh bells (hubby's car keys) and Hubby would yell, What's that up there in the sky??"  Well of course, No. 2 Son BELIEVED with all of his pea-pickin' heart.  I mean he HEARD the bells every year.

Until Grandma arrived for Christmas when No. 2 was in first grade.  Grandma discovered No. 2 still thought there was a real Santa (he knew though that there was not an Easter Bunny and your parents put out the candy, now go figure).  "Oh Grandson", she told him, "You are too old to still believe in Santa."  After contemplating strangling his grandmother, No. 2 decided she was probably right and he probably should not risk being tried as an adult nor the death penalty (this is the future lawyer).

End of believing but No. 2 was an ADULT before he figured out how in the world his Dad managed the sleigh bell sounds every year!

HEY, Grandpa, I think I Heard Sleigh Bells!

Hubby is going to have a problem with the granddaughter.  She already has him figured out as she informed him he "is the silliest Grandpa in the Whole Wide World."

Merry Fogwaughing!  And to all A Good Nite.

Fogwaughism or How To Lie Your Way Through Life

After #1 Son realized at the ripe old age of four, that Father had a propensity for telling "Whoppers" and only resorted to the Truth as a Last Resort, we enter an age of constant verbal sparring in the house.

Sometime around Thanksgiving, somebody served peas at a family gathering.  Now  Niece had a false tooth, the result of a nasty bicycle accident in her youth.  #1 Son announced, "I don't like Peas" upon which Niece popped out her false tooth and proclaimed "I don't blame you.  Peas rotted out my teeth."

#1 Son's eyes widened and I'm sure he resolved to never eat Peas again as long as the Grass Grows and The Buffalo Crap on the Prairie.

A few weeks later, well into the Christmas Season, Father had had it with the Pea Refusal Brigade composed entirely of #1 Son.  "Eat your damn peas or I'll tell Santa on you" Father smirked.

"Oh Yeah!! You don't even KNOW HIM!" #1 Son scoffed.

Whereupon Father went to the telephone (pre-cell age here guys, we still had that thing known as a Land-line) and dialed up the kid's grandpa.  #1 Son's eyes were bugging out!!

"Hey Santa, I got a kid here who won't eat his peas."  I guess the Psuedo-Santa must have requested to talk to the defiant tyke as Father handed the phone over to #1 Son, who uttered a string of UH-HUH, UH-HUH, Uh-Huh, hung up the phone and without saying a ne'er do well to his waiting parents, ate every damn last pea on his plate.

Oh Crap, the kid's grandpa was a Whopper-Teller TOO!!!

Abner Fogwaugh and Other Tales of a Last Resort

Hubby on his Mare "Melody"

I have a secret about Hubby I am about to reveal -- he lied to his children.  He Lied to His Children on a constant, repeated basis.  Whoppers.  Tall Tales, you name it.  He made it up.  No. 1 Son fell for it every single time, and I MEAN every single time until the day he was four and half.  He came around the corner into the kitchen while I was cooking, put his hands on his hips and stated LOUDLY, "MOM! I never WAS A SKUNK was I?"  Nope son, you never were.  The truth has revealed itself.

See, No. #1 Son made the drastic mistake of asking his father about the birds and bees.  Had he asked MOTHER I would have told him the truth -- the stork brought him, but at least he would have known he was always human.  Hubby, however, goes into this long, detailed tale about riding out on the range on Ol' Pepper (a horse we had at that time) and finding a den of skunks.  He scooped one up and brought him home and raised him as a boy, ie #1 Son.

#1 Son while he was Still Gullible and Believed Dad

And then there were the several tense weeks when Hubby told #1 Son that the reason the Blue Heeler didn't have a long tail was because it froze off when Dee Dee (the dog's name, stood for Damn Dog) was ice fishing. (Heelers have their tails bobbed as young puppies.)  Poor #1 Son asked me at least 3 times a day if we couldn't go up to the Lake and look for Dee Dee's tail.  He finally accepted the fact that she seemed pretty happy and was able to swing from a horse's tail quite well without it.

Hey we lived 75 miles North of Nowhere then.  Entertaining each other sometimes was all we had!  We weren't really on the Edge of the Earth but you could darn sure see it from there!  

Which brings me to Abner Fogwaugh.  I always pictured poor Abner as some poor ol' kid that looked like MAD Magazine's Alfred E. Newman.

Alfred E. Newman who was probably not related to our Abner Fogwaugh.

Abner Fogwaugh became a notable member of our family.  Whenever one of the boys would say, "ALL the OTHER KIDS are going, doing, seeing, getting, whatever," they would be informed nope, not true.  Abner Fogwaugh was NOT going, doing, seeing, getting, whatever either.  Usually that ended the discussion although #1 Son tried to make an end run a couple of times by attempting to pin Dear Ol' Dad down to the details like who was Abner, where did he live, etc.  Dear Ol' Dad always had a reply, a cousin, a distant relative, lived in the Ozarks, lived on the Big Horn Mountains, always a different answer.

Both the boys loathed poor ol' Abner.  HE was the reason they couldn't smoke, chew, drink, drive hot cars, spend all day playing video games, and had to work on the place with Dear Ol' Dad.  HE was the reason they both turned out pretty decent in Mom's opinion.  Yep, Abner Fogwaugh and....the best Dad in the World who could tell pretty decent whoppers.

Winter still persists in our neck of the woods with below zero temps but just thinking of good ol' Abner has brightened the day for me.  Ahhh Abner, were be ye now?

The Farmer's Almanac is Frozen to the Sidewalk.................

Well last week's Friday 'storm' was more like a Friday Iceberg...little snow and a lot of cold!  Which brings me to this little book......

Hubby claims it predicted that February 2011 in Wyoming would be fairly dry with less snow than usual and very cold.  Now I always thought the Almanac was a lot of unscientific hoo-ey???  But they sure called it right this year.  So maybe I will have to give it the un-hoo-ey award.  How about you? Do you use a Farmer's Almanac and is it accurate?

And what's around the corner for us beginning tomorrow -- a couple of inches of snow AND A Whole Lotta of Minus Zero Weather.

Well they say when the Sun Shines, Make Hay so I guess When the Cold Hits, Make..............................

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POPSICLES!

Absolutely no downward movement on that snow stick this week either --- toooooooooo cold.

Now I gotta find some craft sticks for these popsicles I'm gonna make this week......good thing I put some clear silicone on the holes in my snow boots.  Keep that cold out!

I think the Ground Hog has Committed Hari Kari....

I think maybe the Wyoming Ground Hog just committed hari kari (japanese ritual suicide)

Why?? -- I just got an email weather warning for a Winter Storm beginning Saturday afternoon....well I suppose I should have suspected this would happen.  We NEVER get spring six weeks from February 2nd, Ground Hog's Day.  We are lucky if it's spring 10 weeks later.  I've seen Springs in Wyoming that did not arrive until after the first of May with May First ushering in the snowstorm to end all snowstorms.  My freshman year in high school, none of the ranch kids made it to school for a week after May 2nd, 1965, because they were all helping dig out cows from under the drifted snow.  They would find them by the 'air holes' that came steaming out of the drifts.  Quite a few cows were not so lucky and died.  It was the talk at school for a long time about how they found them and what they found sometimes.

On to more current happenings:
I did reposition my snow stick yesterday on my way to work ---

BEFORE - barely holding up

I think it was 40" here. (from top of 48" stick)

AFTER REPOSITIONING IN THE MOUND BEHIND IT.

Now it's at 23" from top of stick.

I have the sinking feeling this could all change drastically by Sunday....

My road has MUD!! at least yesterday in the am (well it was ice but it melted to MUD).

And Another One Bites the Dust: First it was the thirty-some year old Crapper Brush; I have been on the brink of having to replace my eons old Bugaboot snowboots.  The foot that has the poly-something making them waterproof is cracking after so many years.  It's been a shock.  Snow boots are now over a $80 - $100 for a good pair!  HOLY SMOKES. I think I paid $29.99 for my Bugaboots on sale about 9 years ago.  I've decided to put off the purchase thinking one or two more storms and winter will be over and I can go back to my 'pig' boots (so named because they are calf-high and mud-proof and what you would wear to feed a ......what for it.....pig!!).  I'll dig out the GOOP tonight and do some patchwork on the Bugaboots.

Lest you think I'm cheap...I do buy things.  You know the ol' patriotic duty to buy us out of this recession.......

I bought.........................

No More Straining Coffee Grounds outa my teeth when the Power is Out!  I won't have much, but by cracky, I'll have ALL the coffee I want!!!

And I bought TWO of these 

 One for each bathroom.

What's that you say???  What is a five gallon gas can doing sitting next to my toilet?  Well look at this...

Another one in the bathtub and an empty kitty litter jug full of WATER.  All three are full of water for when I have NO power.  Toilet Flushing will still be possible (unless the darn sewer line freezes but we won't go there AGAIN hopefully).  So we are set for the on-coming possible snow storm.

Here's our weather forecast.  Doesn't it just sound L-O-V-E-L-Y?

Saturday Night: Snow. Low around 9. Wind chill values as low as -10. Blustery, with a north wind between 23 and 29 mph, with gusts as high as 40 mph. Chance of precipitation is 90%. New snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches possible. 

Sunday: Snow, mainly before 11am. High near 13. Wind chill values as low as -15. Blustery, with a north northeast wind 23 to 26 mph decreasing to between 11 and 14 mph. Winds could gust as high as 37 mph. Chance of precipitation is 80%. New snow accumulation of 1 to 3 inches possible. 

So the question is - will our power stay on?  Maybe, Maybe not.

And for those of you who thought it was cruel to Jerry aka Shitmeier when I clipped him, he got even.  He came in from 'helping' feed livestock so stinky it was BEYOND belief.  He had eaten something really poopie or really dead.  UGH.  Instant trip to the Bath!!!  It WAS BAD.  Now he will probably throw up on my carpet.  Ranch dogs....................................................................sigh.

I tell yah, the WOMAN is positively obsessive-compulsive about giving me baths.......

Well, we'll be hunkered in and waiting for this snowstorm....but it takes snow & rain to make grass so I guess I cannot complain.  At least the road has melted enough to be plowable again.