Denny Duckett did not have to die

Ok so we all saw the finale of Grey's Anatomy (all 3 hrs of it) on Monday night and if you didn't, well hey I'm not one to point out a person's faults. And I understand that yes the show is named after the intern who we will call Merriless, but please! Did they have to axe Denny. Sure he is in that show Supernatural and yes it did get renewed but REALLY. He is after all the only guy Izzie has ever truly loved and I must point out the only single guy who hasn't thought about getting into the sack with Merriless. I was even beginning to think Izzie and Denny (sounds good together right?) might eventually walk off into the TV sunset with Laura and Luke, Rachel and Ross, and of course Joey and Pacey. Nope, its not to be. Instead the writers decided it was more important that Dr. Burke gets to practice more medicine, Yang learns how to cry, and Merriless gets another shot at Reese Witherspoon's leftovers. Fine! But seriously Denny Duckett did not have to die.

What's for dinner

When I was growing up, our family had a very tidy dinner ritual. We ate at 6pm, we all ate together at the table, and my mom did the cooking and it was good. What was on our plates varied throughout the season but was dominated by whatever meat my Mom chose to pull out of the freezer where several whole dismembered animals were kept. This meat was usually accompanied by a vegetable selection from the other freezer where last summer's garden was kept unless of course it was cannable or of course it was in season and thus fresh. Only after I moved out and lived fully on my own did I come to appreciate the vast grocery store of items that lived in our basement.

Let me just say that I like going to the grocery store almost as must as my granny Mary Lou. Really what female doesn't? The vast amount of cheeses, and the endless boxed deserts waiting to be mixed into a mouthful of goodness. This is a cook's paradise. I am even lucky enough to call Trader Joes my 'local' grocery. If you haven't been to one lately you are surely missing out on the best food shopping experience EVER (and I don't use all caps that often). But even with the big name draw and superior organic goods I am still terrible at buying enough to last the whole week. Invariably we come to Thursday and Dave and I are wondering about dinner and if we should cook the rest of the Mac-n-cheese or give in to our culinary desires. For Dave that always means Italian, and for me that means MEXICAN.

I am my father's daughter after all. When I was a kid and my Dad would come home after long truck runs, he wouldn't bring me a trinket or a toy. He brought me only what my little heart desired more than anything. Farris Truck Stop chips and salsa! The chips came in a brown bag and the salsa was in a medium styrofoam cup and I couldn't get enough. We would sit in his brown recliner to the protest of my mom and eat until I was hemorrhaging salsa. This gift has led to endless debates between David and I where he asks "Mexican... Again!?" And all I can say is "YES!" Last week alone I used my powers of persuasion to have Mexican 5 meals in a row! Dad, aren't you proud?

Between a rock and a hard place

Sometimes being lazy in the garden pays off. For instance we chose not to weed this plant last month, even though it was clearly growing in a place where only weeds should be. Check our what our big weed and lack of effort produced.

It's all in a name

Is it possible that your name predisposes you to a certain personality? Does your name actually drive you to a certain profession? Lately David and I have come across some people who seemed destined to live by the light of their last name. Check these out:

John Hill - a site grader
Dave Diggins - underground utilities
Captain Frank Comfort - Fire Safety

I guess with a name like Freeland, David is lucky he's not working for immigration.

Report:Thunderstorms and Trampolines are bad for your Health

Back in the day, Brett and I used to be some high flying machines. Brett of course still has the skills which can be witnessed here.

It all started when our grandma handed over her very large, very bouncy trampoline after one too many kids went flying on her watch. The trampoline moved throughout the yard, under trees, under the hoop, etc. but finally came to rest in a nice large patch of yard where the ratio of nearby objects to potential bodily injury was deemed to be the least. The trampoline stayed here until one windy Summer day.

That day Brett and I were out ridding the yard of all things unholy, particular walnuts, when the wind started to pick up. It wasn't long before the walnuts were coming down like rain and Brett and I were running for the house. We took up a nice perch in front of a large picture window to watch the drama unfold. First the trampoline lifted. Then it lifted some more. Then it picked up, flipped over, started spinning and took off like the flight of the navigator. Luckily it didn't make it far, but unlucky for the us the trampoline didn't survive the ride.

During the several minutes that it took to get off the ground, Brett (ok and so did I) asked more than once if we should go out and "hold it down", ie get out there and enjoy the jump of our lives. Our mom replied each time with an an emphatic, No. Good thing because this is apparently what could/would of happened.

Trampolining Girl Injured by Whirlwind

How to embarrass the one you love 101

1. Attend faculty exhibition opening which includes work on display by ________ (insert loved one's name here)

2. Take camera

3. Insist _______ (insert loved one's name here) stands next to his (or her) work for photograph.

4. Tell everyone within earshot that his (or her) work is by far the best work there and that anyone who disagrees should meet you in the alley.

skies the limit

Is she a Koolhaas in the making? Or perhaps she'll be more of a Zaha Hadid. In any case, David and I think our niece Savanna has mad design skillz. Better book her now for your next dream home because we predict her orange roof house design is going to be famous.