You Capture | Busy

It's been a long time since I've participated in You Capture. I'm running low on creative juice.

This is my busy. I have an endless supply of dirty dishes. If you know anyone who would like some, send them my way! (We have laundry, too!)

Notice there is an entire clean load in that dishwasher and a mountain of dirty dishes still in the sink! That's the mess I woke up to this morning. We're pigs.

Is your house clean? (I don't believe you.) 

This Is Why I'm Hot Chubby?

There are so many things we could chat about, friends. Like DH had himself a pheasant dinner last night. But, let's not go there.

Instead let's talk about how I'm sitting in my favorite chair, eating baked doritos and drinking a diet coke. Ahhh, life.

Remember how I was complaining about being fat and my love for donut holes and pizza? (And really, donut holes are not high on my list.) Well, I'm gearing up to kick these habits to the curb. I always know I'm ready when I see snacks in the pantry and think, "ughhh.... more of this crap?" But I also think, "I really do love you, baked doritos."

This week would be a  nice start except we're going to Wisconsin very soon for fifteen whole days and I dream of the food we'll eat. Who knew Kansas is void of Culvers, Pizza Ranch, Highland House, and Cousin Subs? (Plus there's  all that HOME COOKED goodness waiting for us!)

So yeah, this week won't do. But I'll come back from Wisconsin feeling like a stuffed sausage. Then I'll buy a body bugg (which I'm super duper excited about) and a pair of running shoes (crap I'll need a jogging stroller while I'm at it) and kick some fat ass.

For now I'll sit in this squishy chair and eat my doritos. (Don't forget they're baked, people. See? healthy!)

Road Kill

On our way home from dinner last night, we hit a pheasant.

I was glued to my iPhone when DH blasted the horn and slammed on the brakes. I saw a burst of feathers and then we were pulling over.

DH surveyed the damage, and after declaring two broken legs and a broken wing decided to take it upon himself to break its neck, too. (He was being nice, you know. Didn't want the coyotes to eat it alive. Are there coyotes in Kansas?)

He thoughtfully dumped it into a BACK PACK and set it on the seat beside our son.

I have a dead bird in the fridge. A DEAD BIRD. (Right next to the diet coke and shredded cheese.) I mean really, who in their right mind would eat an animal? I much prefer hamburgers or chicken tenders.