Time's Up!

The deadline is here! Please put your pencils down and turn in your captions to Miss Crump there at her desk in the front of her little ol' classroom. Voting on the submitted entries for the caption contest will commence just as soon as I can get Deputy Fife to give me a lift over to Wally's Filling Station so I can buy myself a bottle of sody pop and set my brain to decipherin' all of your whoppers! Thanks so much for joining in the fun! You folks are the best!!! (We here in Mayberry live a pretty simple life; caption contests are the highlight of our year, dontcha know.)

Want Fries With That?

FILET MEDALLIONS?

SMOTHERED CHICKEN?

HALF SLAB OF RIBS?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Anyone?

Remember to enter the caption contest featured here by midnight on Monday, May 30, 2011, and you could win a $10 gift card to Texas Roadhouse, you lil' cowhands!

The submissions I have received so far are hilarious, so don't be slackin' off! You can enter as many captions as you can conjure up, so have at it!

He's Mr. What???

I think I'll let the video and the photos do all of the talking for me this go-round. Suffice it to say (darn!, you just knew I had to spout off anyway, didn't you . . . just call me VelmaLisa Verbose), anywho, suffice it to say that my jacket is almost out of buttons to bust. Proud as a pickle over here at the Sagers house.

Here's how it went down: Christian's name was submitted by teachers who nominated a bunch of outstanding senior boys to be considered for Mr. Caveman. Those names were then put on a ballot, voted upon by the entire student body of good ol' AFHS, and were whittled down to the top 11 finalists in the contest which was sponsored by the Cavettes. Since he's such a good sport and has great Mr. Caveman abs (say what now?), Christian went along with all of the flurry and hurry and excitement of this whole to-do. Three legitimate and qualified judges were wrangled into adjudicating this merry affair, so I guess the results are fair enough.

Without further ado or, should I say, "without further adieu" as one sports reporter wrote in our local newspaper recently (I'm not even joking), I present to you American Fork High School's Mr. Caveman Contest! I accidentally turned this video into quite the epic feature film ala Cecil B. DeMille, and it is worthy of an intermission, so unless you have some Sno Caps and Twizzlers handy, feel free to jump ahead to the finale at the 7:28 mark. Oooh! But don't miss the fun at the 4:12 mark; Christian gets whipped up into a frenzy during that part. And, if you do have some idle time to kill, I'd be pleased as punch if you'd sit through this entire romp.

YEEHAW! Another Caption Contest!

Yeah, yeah. We've done this before. And yup, once before that. But, what a blast, right?!!! I can't help it. I just love captions and contests and prizes and shoes! Don't forget the shoes.


So, here we go! Don your thinking caps, everybody! Boy, do I ever have the ding-dong-dang cutest photo in need of a caption for you guys! But first, here is the skinny on how this will work:

Ya'll think of some clever, funny, sweet, or truly bizarre captions (as many as float your boat) for this ding-dong-dang cutest captionless photo of adorable Little Red, then email them to me at deonsagers@msn.com by midnight Monday, May 30, 2011. I will post all of the captions without credit (thus preventing any hint of partisanship {ooh, look at me and my fancy political jargon, would you!}), then you guys will chime in and rate your faves when I say ready, set, go. The caption receiving the most chimes (votes) wins the MIGHTY COOL PRIZE shown below.

I do believe in giving credit where credit is due, so the winner's name and winning caption will be up in bright lights thus allowing us the opportunity to acknowledge the sheer brilliance of one who walks among us.

Okay dokey. Here's the photo (click on photo to really help you get your genius groove groovin'); now get cracking!!!

(What did I tell you? Ding-dong-dang cute!)

MIGHTY COOL PRIZE

YEEHAW! Who doesn't love Texas Roadhouse?! C'mon! Gimme your best shot and submit your captions so you can have a chance to win this $10 gift card. Doesn't gnawing on a big hunk o' steak or licking the bones clean from a rack of ribs sound purty temptin' right 'bout now?

Remember: Email your captions to me at deonsagers@msn.com. But you can also leave me a comment about how adorable little Kimball is if you want. (It never hurts to suck up to the contest administrator. JUST KIDDING! This is all on the up and up as far as you know.)

Wrapped? Sure!

WHOA,

YOU GUYS ARE STILL HERE?

Me too!

Tweets I ran across about the, ahem, end of the world:

If the rapture happens this Saturday does that mean I get to sleep in?

Apparently Saturday is the rapture, and the end of the world as we know it. Will likely also be the day I finally hit Powerball.

Remember everyone, it's gauche to wear white before Judgement Day.

Who wants to have a rapture party this Saturday? I'll make clam dip...

Judgement Day on Saturday. We're all gonna die. Again.

The more I think about it, the more I think Harold Camping set this Saturdays "rapture date" just to beat the Mayans.

Saturday May 21 forecast: "Doomy with a chance of rapture?"

This must be the worst end of the world thing ever--they didn't even make a movie about it.

Worst thing about the end of the world on Saturday? We won't know how OPRAH ends!!!

My husband just informed me Judgement Day is this Saturday. So, great, another thing I have to fit into my schedule! *throws hands up*

I really don't have time for the world to end this weekend. Plus, the weather is supposed to tank.

Men at Work

When I was a little whiny kid of about nine or ten or 17, I would sometimes ask my dad what a certain word from one of my current library books meant. He would almost always say, "Well, let's go look it up!" Of course he knew what the words meant (he breezed through medical school {braniac}) so he could have simply told me what "magnetoplasmadynamic" or "geosynchronous" or "aeroelasticity" meant, but he wanted me to actually learn the words I was having trouble with by going to the dictionary and reading the definitions for myself.

Oh. Wait. Hehe. Sorry. I'm remembering now that those words were from my older brother's library books. My trouble words were "hop," and "on," and "pop." (As you've probably deduced from the differences in our levels of reading material, my brother was much, much, much older than me. Like, not quite two whole years older! One doesn't go from "hop" to "geosynchronous" in a day. Sheesh.)

So! Where was I? I'm so distracted; suddenly I have this urge to go read "Horton Hears a Who." Weird.

Oh, yeah! Now, I remember. Just like my dad, I'm asking you to go look up in Webster's Dictionary the definition for: "Every girl's dream come true." There, under the definition, you just may find this photograph, along with this caption:

Four very handsome men slave in the kitchen after making a fabulous Mother's Day dinner for the very beautiful and adored females in their lives whom they worship and freely admit they couldn't live a day without.

Every girl's dream come true. Go look it up.

Tina, Come Get Some Ham!

This is going to make your day or it is going to break your day. I take no responsibility for either.

Eh . . . What's Up, Doc?

Who needs a lawn gnome when you have a real, live, breathing bunny who kindly hops on over from his own house to guard your porch every single day? I suppose Mr. Bugs Bunny Warner, as well as his brothers, Elmer Warner and Fudd Warner, (I just collectively call them the Warner Brothers {yuk, yuk}) feel that because they run reconnoissance and protect our front porch every day from the coyotes who roam the surrounding area (whaaaaa???), the Messrs. Warner seem entitled to use our flower beds as their personal Chuck-A-Rama all-you-can-eat buffet. Farmer Dave is getting just a bit testy about those guard bunnies taking buffet liberties with his lovely geraniums. Whoooeeee, I can't wait to see those rabbits' eyes pop out of their skulls when they go through the buffet line next week and see that the featured entree on the menu is hossenfeffer. jk! Just kidding, PETA! Don't throw paint on me. JUST. KIDDING.

Speaking of animals and good eats:

And finally, let's see how cultured you guys are. Name the movie from which the following quote is taken. (Hint: The movie ranks in my top five {that should help you out a ton right there, of course}, and the name of the movie is actually somewhere within this post.) Ready?

"You! You!"

"Eu-nice. Eunice. We've almost got that stammer cured."

"How! How!"

"How-ard. Howard. He always gets stuck on names. It must be the excitement of meeting you for the first time."

Such a classic.

The Eagle Has Landed

Two percent! We're not talking about milk here, folks! We're talking that only two percent of the Boy Scout membership achieve the rank of Eagle Scout. Sean did it. Now Christian has done it. And what an achievement it is! I am so proud of my boys! It is so great to say that I'm the mother of a couple of young men who will willingly help little ol' me across the street if I ever have the need. And they'll do it while being trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. And let's not forget handsome.

Mom had a bit of surgery on her forehead, but she is such a trooper to come and support Christian. She is always saying of Christian, "I think I'll keep that one!"

We had the pleasure of having our United States Senator, Mike Lee, be a part of the program. Senator Lee lived in our ward before heading off to Washington, and he related a funny story of when he went on a particular camp out with Christian and the other hooligans. Christian's Aunt Marian is so wonderful to often take the time to be a part of our family's celebrations, and she slyly choreographed this photo op--the Senator being none the wiser (hello!). (Look at Christian yukking it up while he plays along and humors his aunt . . . .)

CONGRATULATIONS, CHRISTIAN!

We are so proud of you!

Perfect Role Models

The perfect mother to my grandson:

The perfect mother-in-law to me:

The perfect "second mom" to my kids as well as to all of her nieces and nephews:

The perfect role models of thoughtfulness, kindness, tenderness, loyalty, and love personified by these women and many others not pictured here (and, if you are wondering whether I'm including YOU in this tribute, you bet I am):

And, finally, the most perfect mother a girl like me could ever ask for:

My children and son-in-law and grandbaby are the reason I love being a mom with all of my heart and with all of my being.  How blessed am I?!!!  Oh, so much more than words can describe.  I love you all so much!  Thank you for being mine!

Drumming Up Business

While a lot of folks were at home last night watching something high brow and uplifting on television, something like, oh, I don't know, something like "Teen Mom" or "16 and Pregnant," (not naming names here, but you people know who you are), we had the pleasure of watching Christian beat the heck out of his timpani.

And, since some people were otherwise engaged (still not naming names, and you people still know who you are) and weren't able to attend the concert, I'm sharing the big wrap-up, ramp-up, killer of an ending to Mahler's Symphony No. 1 in the video below.

And, he didn't even break a sweat. Man! Gotta say, I love a guy in a tuxedo!

Love/Hate Relationship

WARNING! You will probably love me (yay!) and then hate me (boo!) after reading this post. But remember, you are the only one in charge of your own happiness. "People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be." --Abraham Lincoln. What I'm trying to say here, boys and girls, is don't hate me! Because then you will probably be unhappy, and it will be your own ding dong fault.

Okay. Where were we? Oh, yeah. You agreed not to hate me. Now, let's continue, shall we?

I have a dessert recipe here that will Knock! Your! Socks! Off! yet is as easy as pie to make. Easier. Since it is so delish and divine yet so simple to make, you will probably find yourself cursing me under your breath even as you indulge in batch after batch after batch . . . . (Hence the whole love me/hate me deal. Are you getting that now?)

But, hey! Don't blame me! I'm just trying to be all charitable and such by sharing. "Because I have been given much, I too must give . . . " and all that niceness. Right? So, I'm giving you this:

Nutella-Mallow Pillow Pockets

Serves 8

1 package puff pastry, 2 pastry sheets thawed

1 cup Nutella spread

1 cup mini marshmallows

1 whole egg whisked with 1 T water

Granulated sugar

Powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cut each square of pastry into four equal sized pieces. Spread a couple of tablespoons of Nutella onto the center of each pastry leaving 1/2 inch border around the edges. Top each square with about 12-15 mini marshmallows; fold squares to form triangles. Crimp edges firmly with the tines of a fork. Brush with egg wash and sprinkle with granulated sugar. Bake for 22-25 minutes or until pastry turns golden. Remove from oven and allow to cool for five minutes. Sprinkle with powdered sugar or drizzle with chocolate sauce. Hoozah!

Believe me when I beat it into your head with a jar of Nutella that you will LOVE me if you make these! But I'll tell you what--you will DESPISE me if you don't use a silpat or a piece of parchment when baking because you will be spending the next year of your life scraping burned, hardened, sticky, stubborn marshmallow off of your baking pan. Not that I would know anything about that . . . .

Who loves me now?

*Recipe courtesy of Picky Palate