Still here--just somewhere else...

Hello to everyone...I'm no longer blogging here and would like to bring my blog friends to my new site! I haven't posted in a while because I've been trying to decide how to start anew.

Email me (maxmom2233@gmail.com) so I can share the link.

xo
Crystal

How-To Tuesday: Grammar Quickie

When do you use "could of" instead of "could have?"
Never.
The End.
*
*
*
That really was a quickie, wasn't it?
In true Crystal form, however, I can't resist saying a little more. Here goes:

1. The correct usage is "could have," and its contraction form is "could've."
2. "Could've" sounds JUST like "could of."
3. "Could" is an auxiliary verb (helping verb) in a verb phrase.
4. The word that it helps must also be a verb.
5. "Could see" = yes! correct!
6. "Could run" = yes! correct!
7. "Could smash" = yes! correct!
8. "Could of" = NO! incorrect! Because "of" is not a verb.
9. "Could" suddenly looks like the weirdest word in the English language.

The Real End.


Thank you, Karey, for this Grammar Quickie suggestion.

Speaking of which, is "Grammar Quickie" too suggestive? Your feedback would be appreciated.

My upcoming How-To posts include the following:
     * How to tailor jeans (as soon as I am not too lazy to do it myself & photograph the process).
     * How to make divine wheat bread that your kids will eat (Thank you to the Divine Miss Kate).
     * How to dice garlic, how to butterfly & truss pork tenderloin (as per my sister Jill's request).
     * How to instantly lose the respect of others but love yourself (first hand experience on this one).
     * How to correctly use the freaking 's! (plural, contraction, possessive)
     * How to use Passive vs. Active voice in your writing.
     * How to use Passive Aggressive behavior in your marriage (just kidding.) (sort of.)

Or, I can have Max teach us all how to make weapons out of clothes pins.

You choose.



How-To Tuesday: A Grammar Quickie

Today's grammar quickie will talk about you and me. 

Or will talk about you and I? 

 The answer to this question lies in knowing the difference between the subject and object of a sentence. 

A subject is the one taking action in a sentence and the object is the one serving as the target of the action.

I aimed the arrow at my enemy. 

The arrow is the subject and my enemy is the object. 

I threw water balloons at my children. 

Balloons is/are the subject and children is the object. 

So when deciding to end a sentence with "I" or "me," think:

if it’s in the subject position, you use “I” (the subject pronoun), but if it’s in the object position, you use “me” (the object pronoun).

Today's grammar quickie will talk about you and me. 

“Me” is the right choice because it’s in the object position. You’re the target of the TALKING verb action.

******** 

 I love you. 
You love me. 


I feel giddy. 
You make me feel giddy. 


I fell down the stairs. 
You tripped me. 

******** 


I, you and me are all pronouns. 
Pronouns can be objects or subjects. 

You can't say, "Me feel giddy."
You can't say, "Me fell down the stairs." 

(well, unless you are Grover.)
(or Yoda.)

If you are NOT a Muppet, you must adhere to grammatical rules.  

Me done now.


Stie's readers were so annoyed by this post, they threw water balloons at her and me. (correct, non-Muppet grammar)

Stie loves her canvas maps more than she loves you and me. (again--correct, non-Muppet grammar)


 
Not all "you and I" sentences are actually correct. Sometimes you are correct if you say "you and me."





 

How to Cut an Onion & More Kissing. Again, not at the same time.

 It's How-To Tuesday once again at Stie's place. I should do a blog post sometime featuring all the ideas I've swiped from her blog. Starting with the magnificent chore charts, here. I made them. I love them. 

Today, though, I am going to show how to cut an onion. Except I'm using a shallot, because that's what my recipe tonight called for. 

First, peel off the papery stuff from the outside of the onion. Then cut the onion in half down the middle, leaving the root end intact. 

(Don't cut any farther toward the root than this.)

 

Cut down the middle again, but this time not all the way through. I accidentally deleted the photo of me in the process of making this cut--which made me so mad that I filled up my swear jar--because it was important for you to see how to hold the onion while cutting it. So basically I'm leaving out the most important visual. Am I fired from How-To Tuesday? 

But see here--you've got to hold the onion with the heel of your hand, with your fingers up. 


You must follow my safety advice. I once grated my thumb knuckle off. Do as I say, not as I do.

 Next, slice it like this. Do not go all the way to the end of the onion, so it is still held together at the root of the onion. (shallot!)

 Turn it, then slice crossways. There! Diced onion! (shallot) 

Please, no comments about the man-hands in the above picture. 

I have a butcher knife & I'm not afraid to use it. 

Or, I will just grate your thumb knuckle off.  

 Hopefully this picture better shows how far to slice. With every cut you make, go almost--but not quite--to the root. 

 

And wa-la! Diced onion. (shallot)

Every time I write that, I remember that old 1980's commercial 

with the 2 arguing tubs of butter & margarine. 

 Butter. (Margarine!) Butter. (Margarine!)  

Now on to better things. Last week I showed "How To Kiss." This week I decided to do a second installment for those of you who wish for a more advanced lesson. When I asked Mike if he'd like to help me demonstrate, this is what he said:

So again I will feature Lucy & George from "Room With a View." Which is for the best. 

 

Ready? Hold on to your onion (shallot). 

 

 

Step one. 

Step two.

 

 !!! 

Oh, it's like butter.

 

And for those of you who wonder why I keep relating food with kissing, I have no idea how to respond to that. 

Except do as I say, not as I do. 

(butter!)

Farewell, old friend.

 Yesterday this cute, harmless little fellow...

  

...threw a bottle of nail polish at my computer

and did THIS to my iMac. 

(the same boy who did THIS and killed my iPhone a few months ago.) 

Does "murderous rage" resonate with anyone? Because I felt it. I was homicidal. 

My first instinct was to toss him out the window. 

My second instinct was to put him on the side of the road in a cardboard box marked "free." 

Next came the overwhelming instinct to drown my pain by guzzling a bottle of vodka. Which is a non-existent item in my LDS household, so no luck there. (I prefer to self-medicate with chocolate or carbs.)

I settled for curling into the fetal position & bawling my eyes out.

And yes, I am currently blogging on this cracked screen at this very moment. I feel like I'm looking at the gateway to "Inception," or maybe staring at a visual representation of the fractal theory. Not good for the psyche at 2:17am. 

I'm quite positive looking at this screen had something to do with the Sunday nap dream I had of all my teeth cracking and falling out. 

How-To Poach an Egg and How to Kiss. Not at the Same Time.

 Today I am participating in "How-To Tuesday," brought to us by one of my favorite bloggers, Stie. I thought long & hard about what I tips I could share. What could I pull out from my secret bag of tricks to amaze and astound? 

How to blowtorch your weeds without burning down your house or the surrounding hillside?

How to unclog a drain?

How not to dry heave while unclogging that drain? (nah--I actually have no skills in that department...I dry heave every time. EVERY. TIME.)

How to hoard sprinkles? (I excel in this area)

How to grow astonishingly long lashes without using Latisse?

How to hem your jeans, keeping the original, bottom jeansy-looking hem?

These are all things I know how to do and will cover each topic in future "How-To Tuesdays," but today I have something else:

How to Poach an Egg. 

 Here are the items you will need: vinegar, whisk, egg (duh) and a saucepan. And water. 

Get the water just at a simmer, maybe even before the point of an actual simmer. 


Hey, did anyone catch that "simmer" rhymes with "Jimmer?"

As I was typing simmer, my mind did a Freudian thing. 

Simmer. Jimmer. Simmer. Jimmer. (he's cute.)

Okay, back to simmer. Get the water so it looks just like this, where the bubbles are just about to break into a boil but are still clinging to the bottom of the pan. Splash a bit of vinegar into the water; this keeps the white together.

Then whisk until a whirlpool forms in your saucepan. 

I took eleventy billion pictures of whirlpools, and none of them look whirly. Dangit. 

With your whisk in one hand and your pre-cracked egg in the other, gently drop the egg into the middle of the whirlpool. Actually, it's not a drop at all. Put your measuring cup into the water and just let the egg sli-i-i-i-de into the water. 


(This is impossible when you are trying to photograph this process yourself, you have to try to balance the egg and the whisk and your iphone all in two hands while doing the egg drop. 

Next time I'll have my two year old be my photographer--the pictures might turn out better. Either that, or we'd end up with a tutorial on how to poach an iphone.)

There'll be a bit of white that gets away, but not much. Keep the heat at barely a simmer--don't let it boil!--and let it poach for a bit. I like mine at about 4 minutes, which gives a yolk that is soft and just a bit runny in the middle. 


I learned this method HERE, where the explanation is much more articulate and the photos are much better; I'll bet she had her toddler take them. 

Now, for the part you've all been waiting for, "How to Kiss." And no--this will not feature photos of me & Mike. Relieved? Me too. 

Step one.

Step two. 

THERE it is. 

I really like "Room With a View." (He's cute.)

 Simmer.

These are a few of my...

Favorite snack.

 Favorite shirt.

Favorite hat.

 

 Favorite way to punish my children.

 

Favorite shoes.

 

Favorite way to de-stress.

 

(laughing near you! not at you!)

 

Favorite thing to do with my toddler.

 

Favorite toothless grin.

 

Favorite sister. 

(Even though she's prettier, skinnier and teeth white-ier.) 

 

Favorite big brother.

 

Favorite niece.

 

Favorite pretend house.

("the beautiful grounds at Pemberly") 

 

Favorite pretend boyfriend.

 

Favorite pretend legs. 

*What's your FAVORITE thing in life?

Today I...

You know that scene in the old "Superman" movie, where Superman (a la Christopher Reeve) circles the earth at hyperspeed? Today that was me, chasing my toddler.

It was a fun day because my mom is here visiting. She has been serving as my writing consultant--which I am sure she did not bargain for--and while driving home from the bookstore this evening, she helped me considerably with my opening scene. Between children bickering, me threatening them and aforementioned toddler throwing items all around the car, my mom got me over my mental block on how to write the dialogue for this scene! 

I hope.

It really helps to have someone in the house who watches Jane Austen movies. 

I think I need to get a scheduled rotation going of live-in consultants. People (females only, please) who will let me talk through scenes and plot and characters and brainstorm with me. My mom leaves Saturday; who wants to be penciled in for the 2nd week in March? Anyone? Anyone? ...

Bueller? 

Here is a view from my chair, where I am sitting right now.  Please note the following details: 
  1) the all-important magic yellow Diet Coke cup, given 
      to me by my neighbor & friend Christine. It is one of
      the items I will grab on my way out the door if ever we 
      have a house fire. 
          (Christine, if you're reading this, thank you from the 
                 bottom of my caffeine-addicted heart. Stay gold.)

  2) my midnight snack of brie and baguette. Why can I not
      crave something healthy & good for me, like tofu? 
     
   3) a new book I hauled home from the bookstore, hugging it
      like a little girl with her teddy bear. 

  4) the bowl behind my monitor from last night's midnight 
      snack of tofu. Mint chip ice cream-flavored tofu.  

I have been re-working my opening scene and currently have three versions. 
  Version 1
  Scene opens with heroine spying at library keyhole and 
  gets caught.

  Version 2
  Scene opens with heroine running down the stairs, racing
  to reach the library before her brother & the hated Lord 
  Markston (yes I changed his name & will probably change it again) come in the 
  front door. 


  Version 3
  Scene opens with heroine already sitting in a chair before 
  the fire, smug that for once she is there first and plans to 
  give him a piece of her mind for leading her brother astray
  with his dastardly dastard-ness. But politely.  Mustn't
  allow the social graces to lapse of course, even when 
  telling off your nemesis. I think it has something to do with
  wearing a corset. 


Without knowing much detail (I'm too lazy tonight to give back story), which version do you prefer? 


And here's to hoping that my Big Yellow Cup of diet coke doesn't keep me up until 3am.

Friday Funny

I love this today!

Chapter One

...in which our heroine lands herself in

a very indelicate position.

“This is entirely beneath me,” Charlotte muttered under her breath as she lowered herself to her knees. One should never be on all fours if one was angry. It felt wrong to be in the position of a supplicant when what she really wanted to do was blow through that door and smash a plate over the head of one insufferable Lord Durham.

     “Where is the blasted man?” she muttered again as she strained her eye to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.  A short burst of laughter, deep and masculine, came from stage right, out of peeping range. Ah. They were in front of the fire, then. She gritted her teeth. This made the third consecutive week that her brother had returned home from his Wednesday meeting with that scoundrel. 
     “We’ll just retire for a game of backgammon and to have a tot,” Lord Durham had said in a deceptively bland tone tonight as he had shut her library doors—hers!—in her face. “Manly things, you understand.” She rolled her eyes. Yes, so very manly. As if anyone could envision the infamous Lord Durham having a "tot" of spirits. Tots were for elderly aunties. That odious man was sure to swig straight from the bottle. 

[Charlotte's Mayfair townhouse]

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is, blogsters! 

A wee preview of The Book. 

Thoughts? 

Critiques, if you please!

It's 2011 and I:
 * am writing a book (halfway done!)
 * have started wogging again (not quite running yet)
 * chose my word for the year. "Unstoppable."
 * try not to curl into the fetal position every night after a 
    long day with a busy toddler
 * challenge myself to blog every day
 * need a night out. Tonight. (any takers? females only, please.)


 * This makes me happy.