Ms. Bojangles Won't You Blog For Me?

On February 19, 2013 it will officially be the start of our 3rd year of blogging!
So many shenanigans!  
SO many arguments!  
So many milestones!
So much. . . forgetting to blog!

In honor of the beginning of our third year, we are taking a flash back to the blog that started it all.  So here it is folks . . the first ever blog by Bo & Chicken!

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We, the creators of this blog, do so solemnly swear; that these, the accounts of our lives' shenanigans are true. . .sadly.  Life is complicated and sometimes takes you in crazy directions.  The purpose of this blog is to keep our friends and family informed of our lives; and provide some humor even in the darkest of times.

You may not know us yet, but after reading our blogs you may wish you still didn't.

Meet the Chicken:  My real name is Stephanie but my sisters and friends call me Chicken Little or just The Chicken.  I'm a single twenty-something-er-other that works at an animal shelter.  I enjoy spending time with my dogs Max and Kenji.  I love the Lord of the Rings, all of the Lego video games, and  I enjoy a good Disney movie marathon.  I'm the butt of many-a-joke by my sisters the twins- Ashes & Lishes.  Did I mention that I also enjoy playing video games, uhhhhhhh . . . what do I do.  Oh yeah, I like taking pictures and other stuff.

To summarize, I may be short in stature but I'm tall with opinion and I'm not afraid to break-out my soap box when needed.

Meet Bo Bo: My real name is Amber, but you can call me Bo.  I'm a single 29 year old with a tiny social life and way too much free time on my hands (because of the lack of said social life).  This free time allows me to become involved with a ridiculous amount of hobbies, which include and are not limited to: playing the piano, sewing, painting, canning vegetables, playing on my iPad, writing, volunteering at a local animal shelter, scrapbooking, reading, and much much more.  I'm allergic to pretty much everything- including lactose.  I can be extremely absent minded at times, I sing in my car and pretty much everywhere-constantly, and I have absolutely no sense of direction.

To summarize, I'm 29 years old, lactose intolerant, and have too many hobbies, and I recently used a garden shovel to clear snow and ice from my driveway; what else could a guy ask for?

With our powers combined. . .we are Bo and Chicken!  Not Lame!

*Blog Disclaimer*
Remember you read it; you can't unread it.

Happy Valentine's Day :'-(

Valentine's Day just isn't the same without you. Now, all I have is the memories, the wisdom, and life lessons I was blessed to learn from you.  I look at my hands and I see yours, I drive to work and I hear your voice reminding me to be safe, I cry and I hear you say "It's okay Bo."  I was never a big fan of Valentine's day, but now it's all about the memories I have of you. Forever will you be in my heart.  I love you Nonie.

Bloggin' Like It's Hot!

How My Dinner Nearly Burnt Down 

My Favorite Eating Establishment

Everybody has favorite eating establishments.  Chicken and I just happen to prefer Steak 'N Shake.  Today I went to Steak 'N Shake, ordered my favorite fast food burgers, fries, and chili.  I pulled around to the drive through, paid for my meal, and asked for extra ketchup.

Chicken: Because who doesn't love a little extra ketchup on their fries.

Bo: You mean who doesn't like a few french fries with their ketchup.

As I was patiently waiting at the window, I noticed that it seemed to be awfully smoky inside.  Then I saw a blur as a man ran past the window and even though the little drive thru window was closed, I clearly heard a woman shrieking. . .

"Get out!  Get out now!  There's a fire in the kitchen! Everybody now!  Your meals have been comped but you have to get out!"

At this point my I was stunned.  What do I do?  Then the guy who was taking care of my order calmly opened the drive thru window and smoke billowed out.  He calmly said, "Mam, I'm sorry but we have a little grease fire.  Could you pull over into one of those parking spots.  Again, I'm very sorry for the trouble."  

Then he walked away from the window.

His calm speech was followed by the woman screeching again..."Fire!  You have to get out of the building!  Everybody get out NOW!!!!"

I tried to pull forward to forward, but a steady stream of customers and employees were pouring out of the door in front of me.  

I looked in my rear-view window, so I could back up

- there was a car behind me. 

So here I am stuck by a drive thru window with smoke pouring out of it and I can't move.  Not the best place to be when there's a fire going on inside.  I tried to tell the guy behind me (without sticking my head to far out of my window and into the Danger Zone) that there was a grease fire and he needed to back up so I could get away from the window.  Mr. IReallyNeedMyBurger wouldn't budge and proceed to act like I was crazy for asking him to back up in a drive thu.  One of the servers, who were all now gathering in the parking lot some of whom were also blocking my forward exit, noticed I was stuck and came over to help me.  

She nicely told Mr.IReallyNeedMyBurger to back it up and then came to my window.  She told me I could stay but she wasn't sure when they'd be able to get my food.  I told her I'd go elsewhere but I had already paid and $22.86 may not seem like a lot to some people, but to someone on a fixed income it's like. . .$22.86.  She went back over to the servers and came back with a hand full of one dollar bills.

Bo: I don't want to take your tips!

Nice Server: No, it's okay.  I'll just tell my boss and he'll refund us.  

I felt horrible and I told her as such, but she took my receipt and reassured me that all was well.  She also told me I'd better get out of the parking lot as soon as possible or I'd get blocked in with the incoming emergency team in route.  She managed to part the sea of people and get me out of there.  

I went to the nearby Taco Bell and had to pay dinner with all those ones.  The teller at the window looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, "woah, this is a lot of ones."

Okay, I dress fairly conservatively so this really made me mad and I had to explain the whole ordeal from earlier just to make myself feel better AND to make Mr. NachoMcMeanie lower that eyebrow.

Chicken: Stripper Singles!  Lol!

When I left Taco Bell I looked over to the Steak 'N Shake.  I am not even close to kidding when I tell you that every police office, ambulance, emergency vehicle, and fire truck was either in their parking lot or blocking off the entire road in front of it.

I bet the grease fire probably looked like this. . .

But with all the insanity caused, it made me feel like it was. . .

As I was trying to digest this whole event, as well as digesting my dinner, I realized something.  

I was at the window when the fire started.  

I had already paid when the fire started.  

While I was waiting for my food I noticed the smoke.  

BAM!  

It hit me.  

Our dinner.  

They were cooking our dinner when the grease fire started.

And that, my friends, is the true story of our dinner nearly burnt down our favorite dining establishment.

Possum-mania

I may be a country gal at heart, 

but there are some critters I just don't take too kindly to.

Possums are one of those critters.

Don't get me wrong, they are cute in their own odd furry rat-like way.

But possums and I will never be friends.

Plus, after what happened on Sunday; well, I have a feeling that possums will be staying far away from me by  choice. . . let me explain.

I was awoken at 7:30 a.m. by Chicken.  

It went something like this. . .

Chicken: Bo, I have to go to work and there was a frickin possum. . . like a 20 pound possum sitting on the deck.   And Max almost ran into him, and I didn't notice him at first, I just noticed him when Max almost ran into him.  He's still behind the towel holder on the deck.  

Bo: What?

Chicken: Don't let my dogs out until the possum is gone.

Bo: Are you serious?

Chicken: Yes, I'm serious.  I've called mom, she and dad will be over to take care of it before they go to church.

Bo: Mumble.

Chicken: Bo, did you get that? Bo? Bo!

Bo: . . . possum is eating your dog, get a towel for mom and dad's church. . . ummm humm.

(Chicken's dog Max)

Chicken: If I come home and my dogs have rabies. . . 

(door slam, stomp, stomp, stomp)

Bo:  So I must admit, I kind of thought the whole conversation I had with Chicken was just a dream.  

Chicken:  Which is why I took a picture of the possum before I left, because I knew if it ran off you'd never believe it was actually here. 

Photo Evidence:

I went outside, cautiously, 

looking for this deranged rabid possum.   I looked and looked, and looked, and all I found was. . .

nothing.  Absolutely nothing.
I let the dogs out into the backyard and stayed with them- looking everywhere- just in case.

Then by a fluke, I remembered that the hot tub could probably use another chlorine tablet.  I reached over the open the large plastic towel storage container and I saw him. He'd wedged himself between the side of the house and the towel storage box.  I had no idea what to do.  

If I left him alone, he might decide my backyard was the perfect place to live and take up residence under the deck; if I tried to remove him by myself, I could end up getting bit and catching rabies.  I went inside to strategize and suddenly my mom pulled in the drive way.

Chicken:  IF you had been listening to me that morning; then you'd have known that I called mom to come over and help.

Bo:  Well, I thought it was magic and that she knew by her magical mom powers that I was in need of rescuing so she came to save the day.   Which one makes the better story?
Chicken:  Which one actually happened?
Bo:  Anyway, I showed mom the possum.  The thing had to be at least 30 pounds.  Honestly, I've seen possums before- but I've never seen one that big.

Then mom had this great idea. . .

Mom: I'll use the snow shovel and rake.  We'll just scoop him up and just reach over the fence and sit him in the front yard.  That way he can just run wherever he wants to- away from here.

That seemed like a sound plan.  
But what actually happened was. . .

When I finally lifted up the shovel full of possum, the handle slid out of my hand and he plopped (not so gracefully) on the other side of the fence.

As I panicked thinking he could be injured, the possum proceeded to walk calmly around the deck, between the slats in the fence that divides the front & backyard and back into the backyard flower beds.

Okay, so we were back at square one.  The possum was back in the backyard, only now he was tiptoeing through the wilted tulips.   

So I asked my mom...

Bo: Now what?

Mom: Okay, new plan.  We'll just let him go for a little while and watch him.  I bet he'll climb the fence and be on his merry little way.

10 minutes later. . . the possum is strolling through the dormant flower beds- still.  

Bo: I think we're going to have to come up with a new plan, mom.  Or else I'm going to have to deal with the fact that a possum is now living in my backyard.

Mom: Are you still having trouble with your lawn mower.

Bo:Yeah.

Mom: Well, where is it?

Bo:In the garage.  Mom, we need to deal with this possum first then we can worry about the lawn mower.  

Mom: Go get the lawn mower out of the garage.  This possum will be out of the yard by the time you get back with it.

Bo: O...kkkkaaay.

I was totally confused, but when ahead with going to the garage to get the lawn mower out . . because when your mom asks you to do something- you do it.

I really wish I would have stayed out there though, because when I finally got back to the back yard I saw my mom using the snow shovel to hit the side of one of the lilac trees that had - you guessed it- the possum- climbing up it.  

As I stood there with a look of shock on my face, I watched as the possum, took his own sweet time to shimmy from the lilac tree to the top of the fence, over it, and out of sight.

My mom just causally passed the whole event off as nothing and reminded me to come over for dinner because she was making chili.   Seriously, there is nothing that scares moms.

I thought all was well until we had our first 'Panic Snow'.

We have a few each year.  'Panic Snows' are when the newscasters talk up the coming snow claiming it to be of 'blizzard' proportions which causes the masses to panic and raid the grocery stores.  It's good for business  but bad if you just happen to need essentials like toilet paper or food.

 Any-who. . . Chicken and I were watching the snow through the patio door and what do you know.  Here comes hop-along-possum himself, strolling across the deck.

Bo: We believe that this guy is living under the deck, but neither one of us is brave enough. . .

Chicken: or crazy enough

Bo: To crawl under there and see.  The way I see it is, as long as he

Chicken: or she

Bo:  doesn't bother us or our dogs, I'm fine with him living under the deck.

Chicken: Yeah, that really sounds rabies-tastic.
Bo:  Come on it's been nearly 3 weeks now with no possum sightings.
Chicken: I guess all's well until the early bird finds the possum.
Bo: And by bird, I'm assuming you mean Chicken.

The Road Less Blogged By

Happy 2013 Everyone!

We've successfully made it through another year 

and another so called apocalypse.

Instead of a 2013 bucket list

my sister's and I had a revelation,

a hot tub revelation.

You see, whilst relaxing on New Year's Eve, enjoying some sparkling cranberry juice and watching it snow- Ashes, Chicken, and I all had the same thought- 

that 2013 would be a 'Me' year.

Now don't go all high and mighty on me; 

saying how important it is to be giving and not selfish.

You're not talking to a Scrooge here, and I'm not going to 'ba humbug' anyone or anything (well not anything I normally wouldn't).  I'm not setting out to be a selfish self-centered person, but I need a break from the normal.  I need A Farewell To A.R.M.S.  

Now I don't mean the book A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway,

I mean. . .

A Farewell To Annoying Repetitive Mundane Stuff

In other words A Farewell to A.R.M.S.

Yes, 2013 is going to be a year of me.  I'm going to take more time to myself and I am going to do any and everything that I fell like doing.  I'm going to take more time for play, more time to draw, read, and do.  I'm going to say farewell to the stress that seems to build up and wear me down.   Yep, this new year means a newer and happier Bo.  

It's taken to much time for me to get to this point in my life; 

so I'm going to enjoy it.

Life: It's a Four Letter Word

Let me know how you like the new pictures- I'm using a new program to draw them.

Every day I try to think of something good that's happened- I call it my daily win.  If nothing good has happened so far, then I go out of my way to be overly nice to someone else; because if I've had a crappy day I don't want someone else to have one too.  

The moral of the story is. . .I try to be a positive person.  

Not one of those crazy annoying people who are all . . .

but more like the kind of person who is all. . .

The past year has, well, pretty much stunk to be bluntly honest.  

It seems like as soon as I start walking up the happiness hill, 

then life hits me in the head inflicting severe blunt force trauma and causing me to start barrel rolling down happiness hill into sadness swamp.

After a while you would think I would just start taking all of this 'life' in stride, but this is what actually happened.

Okay, so that may have been slightly exaggerated, but seriously.  Life has thrown a lot at me and my family over the past few years.  I'm VERY lucky to have spent two decades with a everything all happy-sunshine-unicorn-rainbows. . .

So when life decided to throw one curve ball after another at me, I honestly didn't know how to react. . .none of us did. 

As everyone gears up for the holidays this year, I am getting into fight mode.  I'm preparing for a war against sadness. . . sadness and fruitcake.

You see, I just have to be able to survive the holidays.  I use to have a house full of laughing rowdy relatives to look forward too, but now it's more like a couple of casual acquaintances.

So pardon me if I seem scrooge-like, but I'm honestly just trying to survive the holidays without having a mental break down.  

Then after January is over I can finally look forward to. . .

Seriously!?!?!?!  Arrgg! 

If it's not happy families gathering together it's a bunch of gooey love birds slobbering all over each other.

This is why I consider life one of the terrible four letter words.

Oh, well.  Live Long and Prosper!

Turkeys of Thanksgivings Past

I've got a couple of stories in the works, but things have been quite crazy lately. . . you know with life and all.   

So here's a wonderful flashback of Thanksgivings past.  Enjoy!

Anytime you have a major celebration or gathering something is sure to go wrong. Since it is November and with Thanksgiving not that far away, we thought we'd share some of our holiday near disasters.  

So relax this holiday season and remember. . . it could always be worse.

I'll Take Mine Extra Crispy

It was several years ago on Thanksgiving day when our grandpa was admitted to the hospital.  We're a pretty tight-knit group so nearly the entire family was at the hospital; and it probably comes as no shock that we were going to cancel Thanksgiving- but my grandpa didn't want that to happen.  He all but demanded we continue on with the dinner- so that meant that someone had to bake & watch the turkey for the better part of the day.

Bo: Since I was willing, able, . . .

Chicken: I think the "able" is highly debatable.

Bo:  As I was saying,  I was willing, ABLE, and eager to help; I took on the challenge of cooking the turkey.  It didn't seem that hard since the turkey had already been prepared and stuck in the oven.  All I had to do was make sure that it didn't burn.  

About 2 hours into cooking my first turkey, I peaked under the aluminum foil. I became almost panicked because I didn't think that it was getting brown fast enough.  Emotions were already running high that day and I didn't want to ruin the main course; so I took what I thought to be the only rational step- I completely removed the aluminum foil and I turned up the dial on the stove.

Now, you've got to understand the only meat I had ever cooked myself (up to that time) was beef.  And as you know, beef turns a nice brown color fairly quickly when you cook it.  What I didn't take into consideration at the time was that turkey is poultry and poultry cooks much differently than beef does.

Flash forward to the big meal and. . .

Chicken: I thought we were having one of Bo's famous 'gas station meals' because I thought I was eating turkey jerky.  I gotta give her credit though, she does make a good turkey jerky.

Where Are The Giblets?

Bo:  Okay so this was about two years after the last event and was my first time making the entire turkey.  I was so excited I couldn't wait to redeem myself.  I stayed over at my great grandma's house the night before so I could get up bright and early to prepare the bird.  

I worked so hard making sure the stuffing and turkey dressing were prepared just right.  I even added an extra layer of aluminum foil (to make doubly sure I didn't have the same 'extra crispy' problem as before.

Well after many long hours, it was time for Thanksgiving dinner.  As family tradition dictates my uncle carves the turkey but before he could do that. . . 

My Great-Aunt: Where are the giblets?

Bo: It didn't come with any.

My Great-Aunt:What do you mean it didn't come with any?  They always come with the turkey.

Bo: Well, this one didn't have any; I looked.

My Great-Aunt:What about inside the turkey?

Bo: Of course I put the stuffing in the turkey.  I hand-made the stuffing too!

My Great-Aunt:No. . .not the stuffing, the giblets.

Bo: What?

My Great-Aunt:That's where they put the giblets. . . inside the turkey.

Thank goodness that they don't put the giblets in a plastic bag (otherwise our turkey would have been completely inedible); because after removing all of the stuffing in the turkey we found all of the giblets- wrapped in paper.

Chicken: Got Giblets?  
             Bo does; still inside the turkey that she poorly prepared.

Bo: It was a learning experience.  You can't learn unless you make mistakes.

Chicken: Unfortunately it took our family two ruined turkeys to realize that Bo should never have been allowed to cook the turkey in the first place.
I personally could have told them this from what I know of Bo's past cooking experiences.  For example, her version of scrambled eggs- consists of a McDonald's sausage & egg biscuit that she would then remove the egg, put it on a plate, cut it up, and claim as her own.  Apparently Bo can't remove the giblets from a turkey or bake it, but she can make biscuits, inject them with syrup, and press a M into the top of them.

Bo: Actually it was a sausage & egg McGriddle. Speaking of eggs. . .

Eggs So Devilish  . . . 

Not Even Satan Would Touch Them

It all started with eggs fresh from Bo's hens and a problem. . .

Problem: Nobody brought deviled eggs for Christmas dinner

As you very well know, deviled eggs are a holiday staple; you simply can not eat without them there.  

Ashes: Now I know better and I'll actually bring some this year- sheesh!

So as a last minute quick fix, since the dinner was at her house, Bo got roped into making the deviled eggs.

Bo:  I'm normally not a complainer, but I don't like eating eggs at all- I never 
have.

Chicken: Then why do you have chickens?

Bo: They are my feathery pets; they're for loving- not for eating.

Bo: So anyway, I've never boiled eggs before so I wasn't exactly sure what I was doing.  I complained the entire time I was attempting to make them. First the eggs had to be boiled so they could be peeled and sliced in half.

Ashes: Bo was hopeful that these would be would be egg-cellent; but instead they were an egg-tastratrophe, a total egg-omination, and it was an egg-opolapse.

Chicken: You just can't add the word egg to something and think you're going to sound clever.

Ashes:  You're just egg-aggerating chicken.

Bo: So anyway, I may have over-boiled the eggs; because when I went to peel them, chunks of the egg came away with the shells and they were pretty well mutilated.  

Chicken: Imagine large pieces of bowl-shaped egg confetti.

Bo: Then came time to make the filling.  I didn't know how to make it and several family members came into the kitchen to see what Chicken & Ashes were laughing about.  Eventually the eggs were filled and sat on the table.

Chicken: You've never seen sadder looking deviled eggs in your life.  I think most people ate some of them just so Bo didn't feel bad.

Ashes: Egg-actly Chicken!  But remember, you've gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet; some day you're going to need bowl-shaped egg confetti and Bo won't help you make it.

Bo:  Well, can you think of any other Thanksgiving fiasco's Chicken?

Chicken: Yeah, tons of them . . . and they all involve you.