Sorry. 'Gloo' is not an acceptable word.
Sorry. 'Glod' and 'Oc' and 'Hd' are not acceptable words.
(By now you've gotta be dying to know what word I finally played, huh? Wait for it... Are you sitting down? Have you recently used the ladies room? Because this is going to be really funny....)
Pood.
Yeah. Who knew it was even a real word? Would you care to know the definition? According to Merriam-Webster, it is "a Russian unit of weight equal to about 36.11 pounds (16.38 kilograms)." Not the definition I would've guessed. Anyway, from now on when the doctor or the driver's license people ask me my weight, I'm giving it to them in poods. Maybe with a Russian accent. Maybe not, depending on my mood. Sometimes I just don't have it in me to pull off a good Russian accent.
In case it wasn't disgustingly obvious, I've got time on my hands these days. Now that I only have two children at home during the day I don't know what to do with all of these spare hours at my disposal. Here's a sample of what I've done thus far: organized the anarchy that was my books/game closet, gotten my pood kicked at Words With Friends, cleaned every cranny and nook in my house, shopped at Costco, reviewed the alphabet with Chancho, baked bread, took pictures of the bread, Photoshopped the bread picture, and then posted the bread picture on Facebook to remind my husband that I would like him to come home from Colorado eventually:
Unfortunately, DJ is never on Facebook. I bet he'll never come home. At least, it feels that way.
3 comments:
Wow- that looks like perfect bread- and such a pretty pan too :)
Not the definition I would have guessed either. Hope the hubster comes home soon. Glad there are less children during the day so you can increase your vocabulary (though I would have thought pood came from one of them- ya know-- them being versed in Russian and all).
PS- TGIF
Yum!!
I saw the post on facebook and forgot DJ is Darrell. So I was confused. But I would co e home for bread!
Seeing the little snippet of your stove makes me want to co e over and let the kids eat rotten apples in your backyard. Miss you!
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