The Processed Cheese Food that Binds Generations.

Last week, my daughter wanted to have a CHEEZ WHIZ SANDWICH.

I apologize to all my readers who come for my pearls of wisdom (yeah, right) on the avoidance of processed foods. My husband brought it into the house to make pasta with cheese, one of his favourite foods from childhood.

According to their latest ad, Cheez Whiz "adds personality". But does it also add healthy stuff? How much "real Canadian cheddar" is in it? And will it make me turn BLUE?

I remember hearing a rumour -- passed around in high school -- that Cheez Whiz starts off blue (which the kids at school said emphasized its rampant artificialness -- yes, that's word). I know it ends up blue -- or is that blue/green? -- if left to pass the expiry date. Most real foods do.

Frankly, I tend not to believe unsubstantiated, high school rumours, but Cheez Whiz does fall into the processed foods category I usually try to stay away from.

Anyway, I made my girl the aforementioned requested sandwich. Then I toasted a piece of bread and spread some of the orange stuff on.

OH, MAN. I was suddenly transported back to my youth when my mom would make me "Cheez Whiz on toas" (no finally 't' and said with a Filipino accent) every week. Total taste memory.

Mini and I bonded over our Cheez Whiz treats, crumbs all over the place and smiles on our faces.

Cheez Whiz and I have made -- albeit fragile and temporary -- peace.

Winter Decends on the Front.

Snow that falls after my birthday tends to stay for the duration of the season. No melting. Happened again this year. See the pic above? It's my front yard garden on November 6.

One of the best surprises I got from my front yard garden is the fact that it's beautiful all year round. Okay, maybe not all year round -- it looks like dog barf in the early Spring.

But look at it! It's fun, interesting, flowery even! No flat dunes to be seen. My mother would probably say it looks like crap and dead with lots of dead crap... but I think it looks nice, and I intend to enjoy it while it lasts -- until an unexpected dumping of snow buries it until spring. Yearly snowfall here is very unpredictable. Some years, there will be barely enough snow for a decent snowman. Other years, there's enough to be creative.

Anyway, my winter front yard experience hasn't been all lovely.
Last week, I did some shoveling. The snow was wet and fairly easy to clear, but the stairs had a thin, immovable layer of ice. Very dangerous. I decided to sprinkle grit on the offending areas with the cat litter Roomie keeps in a container in the garage just for that purpose.

Well, apparently, the cat litter was of the CLUMPING variety. Cripes, it started to melt into the ice, creating this horrible muddy mess! It looked like diarrhea! Not exactly the look I want for the front of my house. It's frozen in place now. Frozen diarrhea on my stairs. Lovely.

On a high note, while I shoveled, Mini made a snowman. It has since lost its carrot nose (I suspect the local bunnies), and we think it may have been pee'd on (I suspect Arthur's dog).

Hmm. That didn't end up being much of high note, eh? Sorry.

Take Two: Brad Pitt in Troy. Ahhh. Better.

7:41 am is not early.

I'm a morning person. I usually wake up at 6am without the alarm clock -- don't hate me because I'm a beautiful freak -- and despite the typical morning fogginess, I'm happy, energetic, and ready to start the day.

Unlike my husband who needs coffee to function before noon. Unfortunately, he doesn't drink coffee. It's like living with a bear in pajamas.

Wait, this post is about me.
Anyway, this week has been very weird. Weird like this...


I've been feeling not-quite-myself these past few days -- more like a 4-year-old in funny nose glasses. Good thing I had the picture to illustrate, eh? What are the chances?

I've been waking up late -- probably due to the insomnia. (Read on.)

I've had insomnia (See?). I think it's because of the roast chicken I'd had for dinner. If you've had insomnia, don't tell my husband -- he'll blame poultry. (Why? Read on.)

I've been sick. My husband said it's allergies. He has allergies. If you have a runny nose, he'll also tell you that you have allergies too (See?). But I tried to kiss him the other day. He tried to avoid me. So, you don't really think it's allergies, do you, Mr. Fablo.

I was supposed to ovulate this week (Yes, I went there... again), and after some intensive self-probing (mentally, not physically -- eww), I don't think I did, which totally screws up my hormones.

And now that I think about it, even my already bizarre kids are acting even more twitchy and combative than usual, like this...



I don't think the "weird" is going to end any time soon. It might even get worse before it gets better. I'm bracing myself for the really weird, unlikely stuff to start happening... like locusts or world peace. Or my kids actually start cleaning up their messes.