Peanut Economics: Rockin' N Rollin' With the Punches

Hi there friends! In 2013, I thought I would mix things up a bit and kick it old school in trying to find myself a means of employment. Last year's efforts were a bit of a let down, so I thought I would try out for something a little more traditional to help me bring home the bacon.

I decided I was going to join an 80's rocker band. It made perfect sense to me, and there seemed to be so many pluses to the career move. I made a mental list for myself to weigh all of the potential benefits.

1. Job security. You gotta figure, if a rocker hasn't disappeared into obscurity after twenty years or so, there's gotta be some kind of cool secret to their career longevity. 

2. Savings on hair grooming. Rockers NEVER cut their hair, or wash it very often, so I would save tons of money by not having to get groomed. There might be a small monetary offset on cans of hairspray and eyeliner, but hey, sometimes, it's a trade off.
3. Great singing talent is not necessarily a requirement. Apparently, when kicking it old school rocker style, the moniker 'if you can't sing good, sing loud' really can work for you.

The more I thought about it, the better I felt. I really thought I could do this. The big question though was what kind of rocker did I want to be? I tried to channel a little classic rock with Credence Clear Water Revival but found I didn't quite have the right sound for it.

Next, I gave my best rebel yell at the first white wedding I could find, but the ushers threw me out before I could even get to the chorus. Apparently, the guests were not a big fan of my rendition of Billy Idol.

I finally decided, if I was going to be a rocker, I needed to go all the way and commit myself to Rock And Roll All Nite! I kissed my good girl image goodbye and unleashed my Peanut Poison Pie...... rocker and roller of all things round and squeaky. Nothing could stand in my way!

I played HARD at all hours of the day and night.........the way a real rocker should.........and I didn't care what anybody said about it! Squeaka! Squeaka!

I even had the attitude going on....you know the one they say you hafta have as a celebrity rocker to help set you apart from everyone else?

I had the moves and the grooves on stage.....you know the kind that say 'look but you can't touch'....

They were great times, being on the road, unskinny bopping (whatever that means). It was what a Peanut Poison Pie rocker's life should be.....

But just as every rose has it's thorn, this rocker life of action was beginning to feel kind of empty for me, and I was starting to miss my mommy alot. She had always encouraged me to follow my dreams, but had always reminded me to stay true to myself in the process.

I realized as I squeaked my squeaky ball that life on the road as Peanut Poison Pie just wasn't for me. I liked being just plain old Peanut Pumpkin Pie, squeaking my ball with my nicely groomed hair.

I like being just plain me. I decided to hang my up hair and pass the flaming baton on to someone else.

It's not that there is anything wrong with being a rocker. It just wasn't a good fit for me. I guess I wasn't enough of a fallen angel. When the last song was sung and my shooting star landed, I picked up the phone and told my mommy I was coming home. I will always look back on my rocker days with fondness as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I will always be grateful for the decision I made to leave that rock and rollercoaster life behind.

It is so important to know who you are in your own heart; not based on how someone else defines you but on how you define yourself. People's opinions of you will come and go like the flashes from a pyrotechnic's flashpot. What you think of yourself is the thing that matters most. It is the opinion you will carry with you the rest of your life. As long as you know who you are and are happy with the person you see looking back at you in the mirror, nothing else matters.

Here's hoping that today when you look in the mirror, you love what you see. And don't forget to rock and roll with the punches!

Peanut Economics: Exploring the Arctic Tundra Outbackside

Hello dear friends! This is a special edition of Peanut Economics, and you will understand why it is special in just a second. As many of you know, I am a snow dog, or at least my ancestry goes back to the great snow dogs of old. Although I may be too little now to pull the giant sleds in the Adirondacks, my heart is as large and as fierce as the giants I was bred down from. I still love the snow, and I often dream of the day when I too would get to explore the frigid wonderland we know as the Arctic tundra.

This winter unfortunately has been for us devoid of snow, and so this little snow dog had only her dreams to cling to. That is until one morning when I woke up super early to this....

I was elated! Could it be? Was the day finally here? I could feel the promise of fulfillment of my dreams within my very paws. But I had to be careful. This was not an undertaking for the faint of heart. Conditions had to be perfect, or else I put my very life at risk. I went through my mental checklist, and I prayed that all would be as I hoped it would be. First, I tasted the snow to make sure it was ready. If it had an off flavor, I would know it wasn't time. Nope....tasted great. CHECK!

Then I walked through the snow to make sure it had the right crunchy sound beneath my paws. Perfect crunch with every step. DOUBLE CHECK!!

Then I did the full body plunge to make sure it was the right temperature and consistency for exploration. Super cold and perfectly packed. TRIPLE CHECK!!!

I looked to the heavens and thanked the good Lord for smiling on me. My dream was finally coming to pass. Now all I had to do was get my supplies together. I was burning daylight, and there was no time to waste!

I got my gear together as quick as I could. There was no telling what I might need in the frigid arctic tundra. Since I had never been there before, I took everything I thought might come in handy. I brought extra blankets, a pink kiddy pool (never know when you need to go wading), a red tool box, a cardboard box, and a small animal crate with a scary stalking kitty already inside. I had everything I needed!

As the fearless explorer, I said my goodbyes to my mommy, complete with hugs and kisses.........

and I headed to the great Arctic Tundra Outbackside........

Oh the beauty of it all! When first I laid eyes upon the great white expanse, it took my breath away so that I had to take a moment to soak it all in....

With as beautiful as it was, I could not forget I was an explorer first and had to see what I could see while daylight was on my side. So I wandered through the frigid wasteland......

Seeking new and wondrous things........

Pushing myself to my physical and emotional limits in this lonely, barren world of ice and snow......



Where a snow dog can be forced to do things for the sake of survival they wouldn't ordinarily do.....shameful things......like eat snow.......raw snow.......uncooked even........

Oh wait........I do that all the time anyways.......okay.....never mind.......back to the tundra and blowing snow and survival in the vastness of the Arctic Tundra.......

It was a long day, filled with the taste of an icy victory. My paws were turning into pawcicles, and it was time to head home. As I gathered my supplies together, I did so with a full heart, savoring the knowledge that I had fulfilled my dream of being a real life snow dog in the Arctic Tundra Outbackside!

I couldn't wait to tell my mommy about my many adventures. She would be so proud.....maybe not about the snow eating......but about everything else......her heart would swell with joy for me. I raced home to share everything with her.

How wonderful it was to share the day with my mommy....the triumphs.....the tribulations......it made the whole experience that much richer for me. A dream fulfilled is a gift indeed. A dream fulfilled and shared with someone you love is a treasure that is beyond compare.

Today, I had a dream come true, and it was amazing. The thing that made it extraordinary was the fact that I didn't experience it alone. I got to share it with someone I love and who loves me in return. My prayer for you today my friends is for you to live out a dream (no matter how big or small it is) and to have the gift of sharing it with someone you love! Happy dreaming!

Peanut Economics: Barking My Way to the Bigtop





Hello dear friends. I have been on a bit of a hiatus from my blog, but I am back with a new adventure! My summer was spent doing all sorts of fun things like barking at the birds, rolling on worms, and avoiding baths as much as possible. As Fall has been approaching however, I have once again shifted my focus back to finding another nifty odd job to help out the family.

 

This time around, I looked to the world of entertainment. There is nothing quite like bringing a smile to people's faces, and who is more adept at making you laugh than a clown. You guessed it friends; I decided to join the circus and become a clown.

I caught up with the Ringleader Brothers and Barnabas Bailey Cream circus to try my paw at the funnest job ever! I could feel the call of the open road. I could smell the funnel cakes and loose meat sandwiches, the hot dog stands and foot long french fries cooked in old grease. Yes sir-ee, it was the job for me.

The only catch was finding the right routine to dazzle the ring master and convince him I would be a great addition to his retinue of clowns. I decided to pull out all the stops and make myself as flexible as possible since there are so many different types of clowns in the world.

I practiced my sad clown face in honor of the great Emmit Kelly - a personal favorite of my beloved grammy.

I even tried my paw at being a scary clown like the ones featured in Stephen King novels and movies that my mommy won't let me watch.

Ultimately, however, I elected to go with a happy clown, since everybody loves a happy clown. Once I decided which clown I was going to be, I had to come up with a few acts which would catch the ring master's attention.

I had heard once that rubber chickens were really funny, and I thought it might be a good choice to incorporate in a fun clown routine. There was only one problem.....no one told me what I was supposed to do with the rubber chicken once I had him.

Apparently, nomming the rubber chicken and making it squeak like a little girl is not considered appropriate entertainment when you are a circus clown.

I made a similar mistake with a squeaky ball. I didn't know I was supposed to juggle it. The circus needs to publish a manual if they are going to be so persnickety about performance requirements.

Since I struck out with the rubber chicken and the squeaky ball, I knew I had to find a way to wow the ring master. I dug deep within myself and decided to break out into song. I belted out an Ethel Merman-styled version of "I Gotta Be Me."

I immediately followed it up with a jaunty rendition of "You Fill Up My Senses." My eyes were misty by the time I reached the end of it.

It seemed like the tides were finally turning in my favor......until we reached the topic of clown cars. There were no clown cars to be had anywhere. I had to settle for a clown wagon.

Somehow, it just didn't have the same comedic effect and wasn't quite as funny. It turns out, the wagon was strike number three against me.

When it came time for the ring master to offer his critique of my overall performance, he told me I wasn't the right fit for his circus.

The ring master said I took my job too seriously. Apparently, that is not an attractive quality in a circus clown. Go figure........

Well, it looks like the open  road will just have to wait for awhile. I may not have made a good clown in the eyes of that ring master, but it doesn't mean I wasn't a great clown. Sometimes others may not appreciate the talents we bring to the table, but it doesn't mean we aren't terrific.

 

It doesn't really matter what other people think about me. The thing that matters most is what I think of myself. I put my heart and soul into my performance, and I can be proud of that. I may not be a clown in the circus, but I can still bring joy to those around me. And who knows. Maybe there is another circus out there who appreciates a squeaky chicken nomming, show tune singing, wagon dragging clown. I'll look for that circus in the morning! Just remember, no matter what, I think you are terrific!

 

 

Peanut Economics - The Shiver Me Timbers of Finding Square Fish!

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum raisin me maties! Shiver me timbers it has been a long time since my last post, but I have a mighty good excuse! I've been taking my fill of the salty sea air and trying my paw at commanding a vessel as a Gorton's fisherman.

Don't let the little duckies on my slicker fool you....it hasn't been all fun and ball games. Okay.... there were a few ball games, but even us crusty sailors need a break from time to time from the hard-driving grind of sea life.

At any rate ...... back to my salty fish tale. There I was, the great Captain McPeanut, tasked with finding a new source for the delectable flaky entree for the nummy blue and yellow Gorton's label .... but where does one find flaky square fish?

It was a challenge I was ready to take on, preservatives and all! Or my name wasn't Captain McPeanut!

My crew and I set off in search of a school of square fish. We searched high, and we searched low, but we could not seem to catch a break. I am ashamed to say at times, tempers flared a might warm, and I, as captain, barked a few orders now and then.....may the crew forgive me.

Finally, after weeks of sea and shame, AVAST! We caught our break. A crusty crab let loose he had spotted a school of fast moving square fish off the coast of Japan. We had nary a moment to lose. We set sail for the oriental seas, feeling as though fairer winds were behind us.

I knew when we arrived at our destination, we couldn't risk just dropping our nets and hoping a few square fish would happen into them. Oh no. I had to go the way of the great explorers like Jacques Cousteau who sought other elusive creatures in their natural habitat - creatures like the great white, the colossal squid, the loch-ness monster, the yeti, and the fair deal. I decided I had to step off my ship and go where the fish were, so I did the only thing I could do. I became a fish myself.

A hammerhead shark to be exact. It seemed a natural choice. They are always depicted as such happy fish with all those teeth. Always smiling. Always saying hello to all the other fish. Very sociable from everything I had ever seen.

I took my deep dive and started working my magic. I mingled. I charmed. I said hello to everyone. I talked about the weather. I wished each fish a good day. I asked after their mothers. The only problem was, every time I came near enough to ask any pointed questions about the square fish I was seeking, all of the other fish swam away in fright. As a matter of fact, no one would really talk to me, no matter how nice I was. Even though I smiled my best smile.

I felt so self conscious in fact, I went back to the ship without ever seeing a single square fish. And you know what I found out later? A big secret I wish I had known ahead of time. Sharks aren't really happy fish; they're scary fish! All those teeth are for EATING not SMILING! That's why no one would talk to me! They thought I was hungry, not happy. Boy did I feel silly!

You know what though? That's okay. I also found out the fish I was supposed to be looking for aren't naturally square, and they don't come breaded in the water. I wasn't supposed to be catching flaky, breaded, square fish filets. I was supposed to be catching real live fishies that are pretty and colorful, and I couldn't do that. (To be honest, I kept wondering how the breading on those square fish filets was supposed to keep from getting all soggy in the water anyways.)

So I guess I didn't make a very good fisherman, but I sure had fun shivering up those timbers. You know, you don't have to be the best at everything or even particularly great at most things as long as you can find joy in the things you do. Here's hoping you find your joy in the midst of your fish tales!