Seated in the front seat of my damaged TrailBlazer this morning, actually listening to the radio and not the children arguing, I heard the last half of the news. The newscaster was reporting on another winter storm that has hit the northeast.

And I asked myself, "Why?"

Why don't they call them blizzards? I mean, it's a blizzard, right? The snow is upsetting the economy, closing down major modes of transportation, and bringing high winds along with it. Why can't they call it a blizzard anymore? It sounds much more important when a winter storm is called a blizzard.

So, I went to Wikipedia and looked up blizzard. Then, I read the news blurb on Yahoo! and realized that the news blurb about the winter storm out east actually qualified as a blizzard.

Huh.

Then, I got to asking myself all sorts of why's...

Why are Casey's cake donuts so yummy? When the girl saw me at the donut display case, why didn't she mention she was bringing out a fresh batch of cake donuts? Why can't I say "no" to sweets? Am I a sugar junkie? Or am I a carb junkie?

I'm a Longaberger Junkie. And why is that? I remember my first basket party. My aunt, Dodie, invited me to a Longaberger party & I was broke. I still bought a basket, but just the same, I was broke and I wasn't even impressed with them. The baskets.

My aunt, Dodie, had another party. Once again, I found myself broke (how this happens when you are single, childless and have 3 jobs is beyond me) again, but I went just the same. I still wasn't impressed with Longaberger, but I bought another basket.

However, today, over 20 years later, I find myself slobbering over the seasonal catalog. I wait, in anxious with anticipation, every spring and fall, not unlike a child longing for Christmas. If I won money (at leats 7 digits in front of the decimal, please Lord), I'd order one of everything, maybe even two or three, in that catalog. I happily go thru the catalog with a Sharpie Fine Point and mark off what I already have & put stars by what I'd love to have.

Why? They're baskets.

Perhaps because my husband hunts. He has his vice, I have mine...I know how much his vice costs. He doesn't have a clue what mine costs...sometimes that's good, sometimes it's not...

Why?

Knowing I must clean today, I walk across the house to the "Kid's Wing". I'll start there. Picking up what they have missed, which basically means everything. That way, I won't miss any articles of clothing on my next load of wash. As I cruise thru the living room, I notice that my denim sofa slipcover has highwaters. What are highwaters on a sofa slipcover?

That's when the sofa bottom is showing. It annoys me. Why?

I wash it in cold water. I hang it to dry. I fluff it a minimal amount of time in the dryer. I starch it smooth. I treat it like gold. The slipcover used to completely cover the sofa four years ago, but this time around, it doesn't. Why? Why does my sofa slipcover have highwaters? I don't think it shrank, so did the sofa gain weight? Does my sofa eat all the potato chips while I'm at work? Perhaps I can start blaming the sofa for the missing Oreos...instead of Rob blaming me.

I mean, it happens to my denim jeans all the time. They didn't shrink, I grew rounder. They're shorter, too. I'm not growing any taller at my age, so is the excess length absorbed by the excess girth?

Which takes me back to the carb junkie, sugar junkie thing. Why? Yes, it tastes really good, dessert, chocolate, bread, pasta, but why? Steak tastes good, too. Have you ever heard someone say, "Boy, I could just kill for some tofu & bean sprouts right now." Nope, normal people want steak, Twinkies, or HoHo's...Actually, I wouldn't mind having them all. The steak and a box of each....I would love to be thin, and I could do it if I set my mind to it. The fear of Dolly Madison & Little Debbie haunting my dreams...I shudder at the thought...

I came up with a "why?" last night. All of a sudden, all my FB notices are going into Spam. They used to go into my actual inbox, but apparently, Yahoo! seems to think this stuff is junk. It's not junk to me. I read those. It gets me thru FB faster. I don't click on a billion notices in FB and lose my spot. Why did Yahoo! suddenly decide some of my stuff was junk mail?

On that note, why is Zoosk sending dating matches to my personal inbox? I'm not on the market. I didn't sign up for a dating service. I have enough men in my life, why on earth would I desire another man??? Ever? I have two "Dads". Mine & my husband's. I have my husband. I have my sons. I have my photography instructor. There's the kids' dad, and he's someone else's man now, which enables us to get along much better than when he was under the list of Men In My Life. I have my classmate, Chris, who has a wealth of photography understanding in his brain. Why would I want dating information from Zoosk? Why doesn't Yahoo! put that crap in my Spam folder?

Which leads me to one of my final whys...why is it, when you delete a personal email, there is no prompt, asking you "Hey, Dawn, are you really sure you want to delete this email from a client???" But, when I attempt to delete stuff from my Spam folder, Yahoo! gives the prompt, "Are you sure you want to permanently delete this post?" Almost as if the world will end and your computer will crash--ARE YOU SURE????? Yes, I'm sure. It's junk mail. Why not???

I am pretty sure I have a voice not unlike a dog whistle. Problem with that is the dog's don't listen to me, either.

My kids. They don't listen. They don't hear. They ignore.

I've tried everything: yelling, whispering, ignoring, leading them around by the nose...nothing. Nothing works. Unless I holler, "Dinner's ready."

Don't think they come running. "What is it?" is what they bellow from the next room.

So, tonight I decided to make something I wanted for dinner, instead of catering to two men-in-training and the one my mother-in-law trained. I think. I think she trained it. I know she poddy-trained it, but after that, I'm just not sure....

Dinner tonight? ChilliDog Casserole

I think it's yummy husband, Rob (or Birdy), has his opinion, "You know I'm not that crazy about hot dogs." Nope, sure didn't. News to me. Nine years into this and I've learned something new. Let me make a mental note of that, Sugar...

I still think it's pretty yummy. My kids, Dillon & Dustin, have their opinion, "We don't like the bread. Can't you use buns?"

No. I cannot use buns.

So, here's the recipe, for anyone who reallllly cares:

1 package of cornbread mix, mixed according to package directions
1 can of chilli
1 cup of cheddar cheese
2T of brown sugar
1/2t of garlic powder
1/2t of chilli powder
1 package of hot dogs

Mix cornbread. In a greased brownie pan (8x8), pour half the cornbread mix. This is an opportunity for me to use my only brownie pan...my Longaberger pottery...I love it. It's my favorite. I'm a Longaberger Junkie.

In another bowl, mix chopped hot dogs with 1 can of chilli, 1/4c cheese, 2T brown sugar, 1/2t garlic powder & 1/2t chilli powder. Pour that mix over 1/2 the cornbread in the brownie pan. Spoon remaining cornbread mix over the top of the chilli mix. Sprinkle 3/4C of cheese over the cornbread.

Bake @ 350 28-32 mins, or the Toothpick Test.

I like it. It's easy. Personally, I'd use more cornbread, but I'm already receiving complaints about the bread...

Guess I should come up with something green to serve with the ChilliDog Casserole. Green as in vegetables, not a mold-covered dish from the back of the frig-ea-tor. That's what Dillon called the refrigerator when he was a cute little peanut. Now he's just cute. Of course I think he's cute. He's mine.

But, the name stuck. The Frigeator.

I'm sure my meal will be a roaring success. For me anyway....