80’s: The Untold Story {Four Songs That Should Never Have Happened}

Still marching through this 80’s CD (yep, CD not MP3) my husband put in my car, I would like to share with you four songs that never should have happened.  If you watch the video without sound you can see the lead singer sold and cashing in on the “80’s smash hit” while the band does a big eye roll in the back ground.  So, heat up your crimping iron and I dare you to watch each in full ( as I was forced to in my car ) in succession.

1. The Bangles, Walk Like An Egyptian

2. Wang Chung, Everybody Have Fun Tonight

3. Men Without Hats, Safety Dance

4. Styx, Mr. Roboto

Last Days of the Buzzy Bee



Lucy received her Buzzy Bee during a visit with her relatives in New Zealand.  She played with it and buzzed it and threw it and left it out in the rain like any two-year-old would.  Otto and Minty also took their turn with this amazingly sturdy, non-battery-operated bundle of noise with energy and excitement.  Buzzy Bee is now taking on its fourth child with the patience of a navy seal.  I have never fixed Buzzy Bee for s/he has stood strong through the test of a two-year-old’s time.  But as Z grows and matures, I begin to see the end of our star toy.  Soon Zélie will be having arguments with Ken spoken as Barbie’s agent.  She will be doing dress-up and France Idol competitions with the girls.  She will be killing My Little Pony with handy artillery with Minty and Otto.  Buzzy Bee’s days are numbered, I’m afraid and ’tis the time we say to ourselves, these are the good times.

He Shoots, He Scores


Otto had two basketball matches this weekend. Our village has a great spirit for this sport. Otto is tall for his age which everyone loves. His skills are new, but this weekend he looked stronger. He passes well and works with his team to keep the ball within scoring distance. Today, he was on fire.


Après, we had a typical Gascon Repas. Which is a quick apero followed by a meal, then cheese, then dessert, then coffee. Nothing fancy, but great chats and giggles with a sequenced meal. I love this about France. And of course the kids tore it up at the “baby-foot” table.

Okay Mom, You Were Right


I vaguely remember each year, my mom campaigning for an artificial Christmas tree. With sacrosanct tone, we would say ( or yell from her perspective ), “NOOOO! The smell! The tradition! It mist be real!”. Loving her children more than anything, she would opt for the real tree. Little did we know she also opt-ed for watering, fallen needle maintenance and dead tree removal. This year, for many or whatever reasons, I have arrived at this exact argument. Live Christmas trees are hard to find in France and a bit on the expensive side ( let’s just say the Chubby-n-Tubby five buck tree does not exist ). So we went fake. And OH the relief. Look, I’ve got lotsa young kids, I got cows, I got a farm to help run and tending to a live tree has fallen off my priority list.

I suspect the first thing my mama did when her last baby left home ( that would be me ) was buy an artificial Christmas tree. Mom, let me say this, “you go girl!”

Brent Moved The Cows and We Have A Lead On Our Pot of Gold


It’s been a little Spring in December today with rain and sun and rain and sun and rain. The cows are not bothered by the weather. Yet, little do they know all the sun and rain exposes pointers to all the pots of gold that sit waiting under the rainbows.


Brent went to move the cows when it was bright and sunny. As he was ready to let the girls into the next paddock, it starts to bucket down.




From Brent’s perspective, he saw three rainbows, the house cows and I could only see two. They were strong though and I suppose I should grab a shovel to confirm.

Loves Me A Happy, Munchy Herd


Brent has worked this paddock for a year or two getting it to produce lovely food for the girls and friends. They moved to “Florida 1” today and I’ve never seen them so still in this paddock. I think the good grass and legumes are finally getting their chance to shine. Stationary brown dots in a field of green is good times. It is good beef in the making.

80’s: The Untold Story { She Really Is A Maniac }

As a child of the eighties, I feel it is important to share with you the many ways the eighties shaped my life as well as the lives of others.  Not only did I grow up in the eighties, I grew up in the eighties in Southern California, which I would mark as the epicenter of “80’s” phenomenon.  I was a dancer and I had curly hair.  Actually it wasn’t even properly curly it was wavy and thus did not feather, though I tried.  I tried and tried with not very encouraging results.  Feather bangs aside, today’s edition is about the romantic drama film that is Flashdance, specifically “Maniac.”  Maniac is a very simple workout-montage somewhere in the first bit of the film to show how hard it is to be a dancer and a welder living alone in this giant world and warehouse we call home.  Not unlike the Full Monty knocking Madam Maniac for her crap welds, her workout to a dancer yields similar disgust.  Yes, I suppose you’re right, it really isn’t about a brief insight into a dancer training session practicing to be accepted into a ballet academy, it’s a scene to show you Jennifer Beals bum ( or Marine Jahan, rather ).  Oh but the vigorous stretching, the hair flipping and the signature feet pitter-patting.  This is where I’d like to set the eighties dancer training straight.  Dancers in the eighties do not pitter-patter.  In fact, I see at least three injuries resulting from such an exercise.  What a maniac.  I now leave you with this to enjoy, analyze, reminisce or get to know a little slice of ’83.






My husband gave me a cd with hot eighties tunes, so this is totally his fault.

See, I Told You it Was Getting Cold


Michael popped over bearing pots of pumpkin pie filling. But it wasn’t the filling in the ramekins, it was the tall man in a one- piece track suit that set off a squeal fest while all the kids fell in love with Michael’s new winter wear.


I’m not sure where I stand on the mansie-onsie, but thankfully it is miles away from those silly blankets with the sleeves.