The Easter Bunny...It's a Stretch

My oldest two children are believers. Well, not really. They are teenagers, and we all know that teenagers "know" everything and don't believe anything. What my teenagers know is that once they are old enough stop believing...then they stop receiving. So you can ask them...both of them several inches over six feet tall, deep voices and adam's apples...just ask them if they believe in Santa, The Easter Bunny, heck, they'll claim to believe in the Energizer Bunny if they think it will get them another gift or two. My oldest will be of age to join the army in a month and he still tells me what he hopes Santa will bring. "Mom, I really hope Santa can get me those speakers." he says, ever hopeful that Santa will come through even if mom is unemployed. You gotta love eternal hope.

My youngest, though, he is another story. He was born skeptical. And each year he begs me to tell him the truth about Santa. I'd rather eat dirt! I tell him that I believe. And I tell him to ask his brothers. They believe. He eventually decides to accept the magic of the season...at least until the next year. However, the Easter Bunny... he's just not buying. He still loves to dye eggs and now he has younger cousins and he gets to hide the eggs for them to find. I guess a giant rabbit hopping all over the world is a bit of a stretch.


I'd added some interesting gadgets to magnoliasandmartinis. I hope you'll stop in and have a look around. I also hope you enjoy this very special time of year, whether for you it's Easter or Passover,or just SPRING, I pray you are blessed.

Why I Don't Drink Martinis at Little League Games

I have friends who bring "drinks" to their children's baseball games. I can be seen eyeing their Sonic cups with more than a tiny glint of envy. I know what's in those cups, mixing perfectly with some innocent looking berry slushy. I'm sure that as long as there have been Little League games, there have been mom's happily enjoying their tasty concoctions with nobody the wiser. Oh sure, the occasional team mom may trip merrily across that slightly tipsy line into full blown, "That umpire is blind! My baby was safe!" drunken rant. But rarely. Most are just looking for a chance to relax and unwind after a long day at work, but there's no time, between washing clothes, cooking dinner, and picking up styrofoam balls for the Milky Way Galaxy model that is due tomorrow. I, however, don't have drinks at Little League games. It's because I'm a great big chicken and I have terrible luck! The first time I tried to get by with a sneaky little drink, I'm sure I would run into my Preacher or the police chief. Either one is a possibility, and I would certainly look guilty. I'll just wait til I get home and get a load of clothes in the wash and struggle to put together my third galaxy...if I had thought ahead, I would have recycled. Of course Pluto still had status when my oldest and I made our first model. I'll go now, but not without giving you a link to http://www.magnoliasandmartinis.com/ . See you at the ballfield!

How Jim Carrey Changed My Life

I didn't start out a big fan of Jim Carrey, or his goofy movies. I am probably not familiar with his very very early work, but when movies like Ace Ventura and Cable Guy first appeared, words like sophmoric, offensive and, well, stupid, popped into my head. Bathoom humor and an oddly rubber like face was simply not that appealing to me. Obviously I am much too sophisticated for that particular genre. (is bathroom humor a genre?). And then one rainy afternoon, stuck in the house with three young boys and a remote, I was outvoted and forced to watch an entire Jim Carrey movie. The movie was Dumb and Dumber and I sat there and laughed my head off right along side my boys. Yes, Dumb and Dumber is full of sophmoric, offensive and, well, stupid pranks. All that stuff that boys are born to love. It is simply embedded in their DNA. And while it is not a natural part of my DNA, spending time laughing with my children is. We haven't missed a Jim Carrey movie in fourteen years. And even now, when the boys are gone and I'm stuck at home on a rainy day with the remote, I keep flipping channels until I find a Jim Carrey classic. Maybe I'm not as sophisticated as I thought. Visit my website for a special martini recipe and add LiarLair to your Netflix que.

And the Beat Goes On

I am not going to make this blog a place to rant about drums. This blog is so much more than that. It is a companion piece to my new website, www.magnoliasandmartinis.com. My goal is for you to read this, become wildly curious about the website, click on over there, love the site, click on the ads, visit my sponsors, tell all your friends...you get the idea. However, last night, as I was working diligently on my site updates, my middle child (I don't like to label my children, but middle child he is), who has friends with guitars and amplifiers,(the only thing worse is friends with cars)had invited said friends over and they were all out in the garage banging and screeching and I'm pretty sure I heard nails being raked across a black board. I continued working when suddenly, three pages into updating, things began to disappear from my site. One by one. Just like that...poof the pic was gone, poof a body of copy, gone. Over and over again until I was looking at a blank page once again. And it was good stuff. My best work ever I'm certain. I've learned some valuable lessons here....for example, hit the save button. So, I'm off to update. I'll see you there.

Why a Steel Magnolia Might Need a Chocolate Martini

I have just created a website and it's an exciting, adventurous thing to do, unless of course you find yourself confronted with all you don't know about html code and mime type and SEO optimization and google crawlers...crawlers, really. I'm researching and learning and my mind truly boggles at the amount of information I've digested over the last ten days. Of course the amount I've learned and can actually put into use can't hold a candle to the information that swooshed quickly over my head, leaving little wisps of hair drifting around in its wake. HOWEVER, it takes a lot more than abject confusion to drive me to combine dessert and alcohol with one quick shake of my wrist. What it takes is a teenager with a drum set. There's nothing more to say. I will tell you there's a decadent Chocolate Martini recipe here.

Visit the site and our sponsors. If I can just make enough money to build a sound proof shed for those blasted drums I'll be ecstatic!