Oh My.
We went to a water park the other day. I had never been to this water park, and I realized that it has been an awful long time since I have been any place where the general public has amassed in such large numbers. I had no idea that tattooing had become such a rage. I knew more people were doing it, but I had not actually seen it so much. Sure at the Wal-Mart I see people of all stripes, but their pajama pants and tee shirts usually cover them pretty well, but at the water park people tend to let it all hang out, and well, there are a lot of people with tattoos, all over the place.
I also learned that young women are not at all embarrassed to wear bikinis in public. I guess all that self esteem training they've been put through in school has paid off. I'm not that old, but when I was that young wearing a bikini was something only the most daring of girls did. The rest of us were too modest and shy to wear anything like that. I was a fat girl though, so bikinis were definitely out of the question anyway. I didn't even want to wear a one piece bathing suit back then. Now, I wear something modest, but comfortable, because I decided a long time ago, I had to get over it, or I was going to miss out on all the fun in life.
Piercings were less prominent, although still visible on some people. There was a kid who had both of his nipples pierced, and other variations presented themselves, but I think the piercing thing is slowing down some. I wouldn't dream of piercing anything, but I wouldn't wear a bikini either, so I'm sort of out of the loop on this trend.
My daughter actually pointed out a girl in line next to us who had extremely bushy under arm hair. I immediately whispered in her ear, "Don't point at people, you wouldn't want them pointing at you!" Thankfully, extremely bushy unshaved under arms on women is not a trend that is picking up any steam at all, so that only happened once.
People were very well behaved. Nobody bothered our stuff which we left sitting at a picnic table, of course we locked up our valuables, and nobody caused any trouble at all, except for who ever it was that took a dump in the wave pool which caused it to be shut down in the afternoon. Thankfully, we were not in there at that time. Gross.
There were a couple of gay men in extra tight speedos at the entrance which was awkward, but once we got in the park we didn't see them again. The kids all saw a couple of gay men walking around holding hands, and mentioned it. They were nothing compared to this straight couple who were making out like fiends every time we saw them. I'm sorry, but when you are in a crowded line, the last thing you want is for two horny dogs to be rubbing up against each other in such close proximity, in front of your kids no less. That was tacky.
Anyway, a good day was had by all, although I could live without ever going there again. Personally, I think a day at the pool would have been just as fun. Standing around in the heat waiting to get in the water for a few seconds was draining. Never mind the fact that the place is built on a gigantic hill, which makes sense of course when you are sailing down the hill on a tube. The kids seemed to like it, which means, they will want to go back, and I can't blame them, I would have want to if I was still a kid.
I think we'll do a trip to the mountains next time. Pack a picnic lunch. Fairly cheap and easy fun there.
Back later.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Phone Rang 4 Times As I Wrote This Post
It Rings Too Much.
It must be a law or something, but every time I get into something, be it a movie, a blog post, the shower, and most importantly a NAP the phone must ring. I was home all day the other day, I was mostly bored doing nothing. It was a quiet morning. I decided that afternoon to take a nap, a forty minute nap, the phone rang 3 times during that nap. Three times! In forty minutes.
I just sat down to read blogs, the phone rings. Perhaps I could save myself an awful lot of trouble if I were to put a phone downstairs. I really shouldn't blame the people calling, it is not their fault I get annoyed because I have to run all the way upstairs to answer the phone which is nothing more than a bother to me. What really ticks me off is when it is a telemarketer waking me up from my nap. I don't even bother with any niceties anymore. I just hang up on them immediately.
Anyway it was my mom just now. "Hello?"
"Did you just call me?" she asks.
"No, it wasn't me." I reply.
"Hmm. Well it might have been your sister then."
"Yep, maybe."
"Well, I have to run, have to get back in the bathroom, that's where I was when the phone rang before" she sighs.
"Ok Mom. I'll talk to you later" I laugh.
I love my mother. She does this at least once a week. I have tried to get her to get caller i.d. She won't. "That's why I have the answering machine" she says. She hates answering machines, yet she expects people to leave messages on hers, and even so, if they don't leave a message, she then has no idea who called, and I get these calls from her. She is such a dear sweet mother, I don't mind that she calls. I adore my mom. I just find this particular thing rather funny, sort of like her affinity for pie.
Mom always has pie. If you've got a hankerin' for pie, get yourself over to my mom's house. She often has two. Just the other day I had a piece of peach pie. It was all right. I said, "mmm, this pie is good, but nearly as good as the peach pies you make." She agreed, but stipulated that these are just much easier to make since all she has to do is bake it. Sure, I'll give her that, but store bought pie is just not as good. Mom never used to rely on the store bought pie for her family, but now she and dad are just as happy with it. She always offers me a piece of pie whenever I go to visit. I really love that about her.
I should go over and make some pies with her one afternoon. I miss her company. I don't know why I can't make time to get over there often enough. I get home and all I want to do is stay here, and work around my house.
Well, I have to go return some phone calls. Be back later. I've got a hankering for a nap as well. A nice nap in front of the fan with my two fat pillows, and my fluffy blankie wadded up with my leg thrown over it. It's almost as good as homemade pie.
It must be a law or something, but every time I get into something, be it a movie, a blog post, the shower, and most importantly a NAP the phone must ring. I was home all day the other day, I was mostly bored doing nothing. It was a quiet morning. I decided that afternoon to take a nap, a forty minute nap, the phone rang 3 times during that nap. Three times! In forty minutes.
I just sat down to read blogs, the phone rings. Perhaps I could save myself an awful lot of trouble if I were to put a phone downstairs. I really shouldn't blame the people calling, it is not their fault I get annoyed because I have to run all the way upstairs to answer the phone which is nothing more than a bother to me. What really ticks me off is when it is a telemarketer waking me up from my nap. I don't even bother with any niceties anymore. I just hang up on them immediately.
Anyway it was my mom just now. "Hello?"
"Did you just call me?" she asks.
"No, it wasn't me." I reply.
"Hmm. Well it might have been your sister then."
"Yep, maybe."
"Well, I have to run, have to get back in the bathroom, that's where I was when the phone rang before" she sighs.
"Ok Mom. I'll talk to you later" I laugh.
I love my mother. She does this at least once a week. I have tried to get her to get caller i.d. She won't. "That's why I have the answering machine" she says. She hates answering machines, yet she expects people to leave messages on hers, and even so, if they don't leave a message, she then has no idea who called, and I get these calls from her. She is such a dear sweet mother, I don't mind that she calls. I adore my mom. I just find this particular thing rather funny, sort of like her affinity for pie.
Mom always has pie. If you've got a hankerin' for pie, get yourself over to my mom's house. She often has two. Just the other day I had a piece of peach pie. It was all right. I said, "mmm, this pie is good, but nearly as good as the peach pies you make." She agreed, but stipulated that these are just much easier to make since all she has to do is bake it. Sure, I'll give her that, but store bought pie is just not as good. Mom never used to rely on the store bought pie for her family, but now she and dad are just as happy with it. She always offers me a piece of pie whenever I go to visit. I really love that about her.
I should go over and make some pies with her one afternoon. I miss her company. I don't know why I can't make time to get over there often enough. I get home and all I want to do is stay here, and work around my house.
Well, I have to go return some phone calls. Be back later. I've got a hankering for a nap as well. A nice nap in front of the fan with my two fat pillows, and my fluffy blankie wadded up with my leg thrown over it. It's almost as good as homemade pie.
Something New
Is Needed.
A new post. Something. Anything? Hmm. Seen any good movies lately? I finally watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" At first I was a bit hesitant to watch it, I was somewhat familiar with the story line, my husband and I had seen the man and his son on a talk show years ago, Oprah I think, and sort of knew what the movie was about. It was an incredibly touching tale, and we never forgot the story, but when the movie came out, I have to admit I was a little afraid that Hollywood would make it into some leftist swill blaming all of this man's woes on everyone else. I was pleasantly surprised that the story line as I remembered it from years ago was more or less in tact as I recalled it, and it was really made into an inspiring movie. I would highly recommend watching it.
It seems that putz Michael Moore has made some sort of new movie. Now now, I know name calling is not considered nice, or an intelligent way to argue, but I can't deny the words that want to come out. I'm just giving my opinion, the man is a putz. But is he really as stupid as we think? Calling him stupid is the gut reaction I have to him, but actually, he is rather cunning in a way. He has succeeded in convincing many people into believing the crap he puts forward as information, or even truth, which says quite a lot.
When I get into an elevator with a co-worker who says, "I love Michael Moore." I have to think we should not underestimate the number of people who follow his line of thinking hook, line and sinker. I can't even think about it. It is too frightening. That the man is making millions selling commie flap trap is a sure sign he is not just the stupid fat putz he appears to be. He is actually selling these ideas, for money. That's way smarter than the rest of the commies, they had to do the messy work of killing all of their opposition, never mind the fact that there is no shortage of sadists in the world willing to be used in that end.
Which brings me to, when is that dirty old bastard in Cuba going to die? And does it even matter? I'm sure his predecessor is already lined up. We've got baby Kim in North Korea, I'm sure there is a baby Castro waiting in the wings. Which reminds me, Danny Glover can just go suck it. Making movies with Hugo Chavez! How gay can you get?
This is why I am always so skeptical about watching movies any more. I have a hard time swallowing the message anymore. I can't do it. You know Fred Reed, I used to read him a lot. He said something one time that has stuck with me, it goes something like this, on t.v. they don't blatantly tell you, this is how you should behave, this is how you should think, this is what you should find acceptable, nobody would listen to them if they did. No, he says, they SHOW you over and and over and over again these things, until it becomes the picture of what culture, society, and the world should look like. Pretty darn smart thinking there.
That Fred Reed, he ruined me for the entertainment business now because I can't watch anything without asking myself, what is the message? What are they trying to show me? Well, I exaggerate a bit on that, but I do keep it in mind. I try not to take it for granted when I watch a movie, or t.v. show that I am just going to be entertained, maybe even moved, made to laugh or be inspired, there are times I have walked away when I felt someone has taken the opportunity to try to sell something beyond that.
I think that's enough for one day. Hugs.
A new post. Something. Anything? Hmm. Seen any good movies lately? I finally watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" At first I was a bit hesitant to watch it, I was somewhat familiar with the story line, my husband and I had seen the man and his son on a talk show years ago, Oprah I think, and sort of knew what the movie was about. It was an incredibly touching tale, and we never forgot the story, but when the movie came out, I have to admit I was a little afraid that Hollywood would make it into some leftist swill blaming all of this man's woes on everyone else. I was pleasantly surprised that the story line as I remembered it from years ago was more or less in tact as I recalled it, and it was really made into an inspiring movie. I would highly recommend watching it.
It seems that putz Michael Moore has made some sort of new movie. Now now, I know name calling is not considered nice, or an intelligent way to argue, but I can't deny the words that want to come out. I'm just giving my opinion, the man is a putz. But is he really as stupid as we think? Calling him stupid is the gut reaction I have to him, but actually, he is rather cunning in a way. He has succeeded in convincing many people into believing the crap he puts forward as information, or even truth, which says quite a lot.
When I get into an elevator with a co-worker who says, "I love Michael Moore." I have to think we should not underestimate the number of people who follow his line of thinking hook, line and sinker. I can't even think about it. It is too frightening. That the man is making millions selling commie flap trap is a sure sign he is not just the stupid fat putz he appears to be. He is actually selling these ideas, for money. That's way smarter than the rest of the commies, they had to do the messy work of killing all of their opposition, never mind the fact that there is no shortage of sadists in the world willing to be used in that end.
Which brings me to, when is that dirty old bastard in Cuba going to die? And does it even matter? I'm sure his predecessor is already lined up. We've got baby Kim in North Korea, I'm sure there is a baby Castro waiting in the wings. Which reminds me, Danny Glover can just go suck it. Making movies with Hugo Chavez! How gay can you get?
This is why I am always so skeptical about watching movies any more. I have a hard time swallowing the message anymore. I can't do it. You know Fred Reed, I used to read him a lot. He said something one time that has stuck with me, it goes something like this, on t.v. they don't blatantly tell you, this is how you should behave, this is how you should think, this is what you should find acceptable, nobody would listen to them if they did. No, he says, they SHOW you over and and over and over again these things, until it becomes the picture of what culture, society, and the world should look like. Pretty darn smart thinking there.
That Fred Reed, he ruined me for the entertainment business now because I can't watch anything without asking myself, what is the message? What are they trying to show me? Well, I exaggerate a bit on that, but I do keep it in mind. I try not to take it for granted when I watch a movie, or t.v. show that I am just going to be entertained, maybe even moved, made to laugh or be inspired, there are times I have walked away when I felt someone has taken the opportunity to try to sell something beyond that.
I think that's enough for one day. Hugs.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Not a happy post
.
At one of the several duty stations my husband was assigned to while serving in the military, I worked at a little hospital as an admission clerk. I enjoyed the job very much because I worked with a bunch of crazy people, and we didn't have many patients each day so we had way too much time to goof off. There was a little old lady who was the day shift switchboard operator, she had been there forever. She used to always wear this little pink smock. I had been introduced to her when I started, but I rarely interacted with her as I usually worked the night shift, but I remember her.
Some time after my husband had been assigned somewhere else I received an email from one of the nurses I used to work with, in it she relayed the horrible news that this poor old lady had been found at home tied to a chair, where she had been beaten to death. It was dreadful news. I remember telling my husband that this woman had worked her whole life, and lived her life only to have it ended by someone so evil it was just unbearable to think about. I don't know if the crime was ever solved.
There was this kid who used to hang out with us in high school. There was a big group of us, and we used to go in the mountains and get drunk on Mad Dog 20/20, horrible stuff tastes the same going down as it does coming back up, and we would listen to music, and just be kids. Pretty harmless stuff for the most part. This one kid, we tolerated him I guess. None of the girls liked him because he would develop immediate crushes on any girl who would give him any attention. He was particularly fond of my best friend who was not interested in him in the least.
Well he had this thing that he did. He would get drunk and then it would start, his poor me, I want to die, nobody loves me, I hate myself, I'm a loser and I want to die. The first time the girls would feel sorry for him and try to tell him not to feel that way, and give him all of this sympathy. When it became a pattern, everyone would pretty much just roll their eyes and suggest he go find some place to pass out.
He always did that. I didn't like hanging out with him. I thought he was strange. I tolerated him for the most part he was my boyfriend's friend. Well it turns out the little creep was a rapist and ended up going to prison for life for raping and killing two people. One of which was a 12 year old girl. He dumped the body of the little girl right at the very spot where in high school we used to all go and party. Bastard should have been put to death for what he did, but he got life in prison.
One night my mother's cousin's husband was talking on the phone with his son when a man stormed through the front door with a knife and stabbed him 17 times. Luckily, his son heard the commotion and called 911, or he would have died. He almost did die. He lost most of the blood in his body. He was so traumatized that he has never really been the same. The man who tried to kill him was a disgruntled employee, the cousin's husband had been his boss and laid him off because he was a shitbag loser. The man went to prison. He did not get life in prison. He should have at the very least been sent to prison for the rest of his life.
There was a girl I went to high school with. She got pregnant. Her mother immediately dropped her off at a group home for pregnant teen agers and drove off in her Cadillac on her merry way. The girl went on welfare, and eventually met a G.I. who she married. He was not the father of the little girl that she had, but it didn't matter, in no time at all she was pregnant with his baby. One day he killed her little girl. He hit her in the stomach so hard that he ruptured her spleen and she died from internal injuries. She was 17 months old. He went to prison. I believe he got 30 years. He will be out in about 10 years I suppose. He will be in his 40's. Still young enough to enjoy some sort of life.
Want to know something even more strange? The mother of the baby, at one time she had a relationship with the above mentioned murderer--the one who raped and murdered two people. Basically, she has been involved with at least two murderers. Talk about your lousy taste in men. I stopped speaking to her many years ago. She still tries to contact me every so often. Usually she calls my mom and asks her to have me call her. My mom knows I want nothing to do with this woman, and so never gives her any information about me.
Perhaps it says I have lousy taste in friends, but in reality, I was never really good friends with either of those people. They were around, there were lots of people around, but something in my gut always told me something was wrong there. I knew it. I was young and much more trusting and tolerant, and I ignored my gut.
I think sometimes we ignore our gut to our own detriment. We over ride it to avoid hurting people's feelings. I try not to do that anymore. If I don't feel right about someone, I don't waste nearly as much time exploring those feelings. I just move on.
The reason I brought all of this up is because it has been on my mind. The other day I read a post by Tony at Blah Blah Blog, it seems someone near him has been murdered. Had her life taken from her by an evil murderer. I have been thinking about how close to home these things hit sometimes. Sometimes the world is an awful scary place to live, even in this great nation of ours.
At one of the several duty stations my husband was assigned to while serving in the military, I worked at a little hospital as an admission clerk. I enjoyed the job very much because I worked with a bunch of crazy people, and we didn't have many patients each day so we had way too much time to goof off. There was a little old lady who was the day shift switchboard operator, she had been there forever. She used to always wear this little pink smock. I had been introduced to her when I started, but I rarely interacted with her as I usually worked the night shift, but I remember her.
Some time after my husband had been assigned somewhere else I received an email from one of the nurses I used to work with, in it she relayed the horrible news that this poor old lady had been found at home tied to a chair, where she had been beaten to death. It was dreadful news. I remember telling my husband that this woman had worked her whole life, and lived her life only to have it ended by someone so evil it was just unbearable to think about. I don't know if the crime was ever solved.
There was this kid who used to hang out with us in high school. There was a big group of us, and we used to go in the mountains and get drunk on Mad Dog 20/20, horrible stuff tastes the same going down as it does coming back up, and we would listen to music, and just be kids. Pretty harmless stuff for the most part. This one kid, we tolerated him I guess. None of the girls liked him because he would develop immediate crushes on any girl who would give him any attention. He was particularly fond of my best friend who was not interested in him in the least.
Well he had this thing that he did. He would get drunk and then it would start, his poor me, I want to die, nobody loves me, I hate myself, I'm a loser and I want to die. The first time the girls would feel sorry for him and try to tell him not to feel that way, and give him all of this sympathy. When it became a pattern, everyone would pretty much just roll their eyes and suggest he go find some place to pass out.
He always did that. I didn't like hanging out with him. I thought he was strange. I tolerated him for the most part he was my boyfriend's friend. Well it turns out the little creep was a rapist and ended up going to prison for life for raping and killing two people. One of which was a 12 year old girl. He dumped the body of the little girl right at the very spot where in high school we used to all go and party. Bastard should have been put to death for what he did, but he got life in prison.
One night my mother's cousin's husband was talking on the phone with his son when a man stormed through the front door with a knife and stabbed him 17 times. Luckily, his son heard the commotion and called 911, or he would have died. He almost did die. He lost most of the blood in his body. He was so traumatized that he has never really been the same. The man who tried to kill him was a disgruntled employee, the cousin's husband had been his boss and laid him off because he was a shitbag loser. The man went to prison. He did not get life in prison. He should have at the very least been sent to prison for the rest of his life.
There was a girl I went to high school with. She got pregnant. Her mother immediately dropped her off at a group home for pregnant teen agers and drove off in her Cadillac on her merry way. The girl went on welfare, and eventually met a G.I. who she married. He was not the father of the little girl that she had, but it didn't matter, in no time at all she was pregnant with his baby. One day he killed her little girl. He hit her in the stomach so hard that he ruptured her spleen and she died from internal injuries. She was 17 months old. He went to prison. I believe he got 30 years. He will be out in about 10 years I suppose. He will be in his 40's. Still young enough to enjoy some sort of life.
Want to know something even more strange? The mother of the baby, at one time she had a relationship with the above mentioned murderer--the one who raped and murdered two people. Basically, she has been involved with at least two murderers. Talk about your lousy taste in men. I stopped speaking to her many years ago. She still tries to contact me every so often. Usually she calls my mom and asks her to have me call her. My mom knows I want nothing to do with this woman, and so never gives her any information about me.
Perhaps it says I have lousy taste in friends, but in reality, I was never really good friends with either of those people. They were around, there were lots of people around, but something in my gut always told me something was wrong there. I knew it. I was young and much more trusting and tolerant, and I ignored my gut.
I think sometimes we ignore our gut to our own detriment. We over ride it to avoid hurting people's feelings. I try not to do that anymore. If I don't feel right about someone, I don't waste nearly as much time exploring those feelings. I just move on.
The reason I brought all of this up is because it has been on my mind. The other day I read a post by Tony at Blah Blah Blog, it seems someone near him has been murdered. Had her life taken from her by an evil murderer. I have been thinking about how close to home these things hit sometimes. Sometimes the world is an awful scary place to live, even in this great nation of ours.
Monday, June 11, 2007
You Deserve Better Than This
I Will Try To Do Better.
I woke up very early this morning. Something about pizza, hot wings, and lemonade will do that too you, but you don't want to hear about all of that I am sure. My muse is always alive and kicking first thing in the morning, trouble is, I am usually snoring away at that time so all you get is my usual boring stuff when I finally do make it out of bed.
There I was with a nasty case of heartburn with swirling thoughts of this and that, and I decided I should get up and write something on the blog which I haven't even checked in more than a couple of days. The trouble is now that I am more than half awake, all of the creative thoughts have left me. Weird. I know.
I actually started this blog in 2004, but in a fit of bi-polar disorder coupled with slight paranoia I decided to delete the entire thing. I didn't save any of it at all. I just erased it. A couple of people have expressed dismay at that decision, I've even wondered what the dickens got into me to do such a thing. Anyway, it is done. I can't undo it. I regret losing some posts that I wrote about my mom which I thought really captured her persona. I've tried to redo them, but I haven't had much luck with that.
My former English teachers would probably take a ruler or at least a spiral notebook and beat me upside the head with it if they knew how often I actually start sentences with the word, "I". It is really a bit off putting even to me. I--will try to do better.
The kiddo's summer vacation officially begins today. I don't know who is happier about that. It will be nice to have a break from the school. The end of this school year was a very unpleasant time. Those people kept on ticking me off with some of their antics, some of which made my daughter cry more than was necessary. I'm still fuming about some things, and I really don't want to get into it right now with my heartburn already bothering me. That is a post for later, I don't want to ruin my calm mood right now.
I have taken to calling everyone "darling" which I say with some sort of accent. It is a rather odd personality tick that I have developed which I can't seem to shake. It's my flair. I don't really want to talk about my flair. (Office Space, love that movie)
Those darn dogs went and dug up and tore up all the hard work hubby and I did in the back yard. This week I will have to go out there, shovel up all of the wood chips we put there to kill the weeds, and redo the landscaping fabric we put under it which is nearly shredded now from the dogs digging in there.
The first time they just displaced things, so I went and got some pots of flowers and placed them over the spot they dug up. The second time was when they really trashed it, I found the pots in the yard, and one I had placed in there with nothing more than soil and seeds had been completely dumped over and drug through the yard. I know it was the dog and not the horrendous wind we've had lately because the pot had bit marks on it, and I saw the boy dog go and drag the thing off of the porch later that day.
So hubby went and put a bench in there, some cinder blocks (not my decor of choice mind you) and the pots of flowers back until we could get in there and repair the destruction. Oh but I intend to fix their wagons, I am going to put rocks down in there. I want to see them dig up rocks without any opposable thumbs. I want to see it.
One of my many German neighbors told me the other day that the yard looks better than it ever has. That was nice to hear, we have been putting in a great deal of effort there.
That is pretty much all I have right now. I'm thinking about yard work, I can't wait to get out there. I know I am a total nerd. Or obsessed. I should have time to post more this week. We shall see.
I woke up very early this morning. Something about pizza, hot wings, and lemonade will do that too you, but you don't want to hear about all of that I am sure. My muse is always alive and kicking first thing in the morning, trouble is, I am usually snoring away at that time so all you get is my usual boring stuff when I finally do make it out of bed.
There I was with a nasty case of heartburn with swirling thoughts of this and that, and I decided I should get up and write something on the blog which I haven't even checked in more than a couple of days. The trouble is now that I am more than half awake, all of the creative thoughts have left me. Weird. I know.
I actually started this blog in 2004, but in a fit of bi-polar disorder coupled with slight paranoia I decided to delete the entire thing. I didn't save any of it at all. I just erased it. A couple of people have expressed dismay at that decision, I've even wondered what the dickens got into me to do such a thing. Anyway, it is done. I can't undo it. I regret losing some posts that I wrote about my mom which I thought really captured her persona. I've tried to redo them, but I haven't had much luck with that.
My former English teachers would probably take a ruler or at least a spiral notebook and beat me upside the head with it if they knew how often I actually start sentences with the word, "I". It is really a bit off putting even to me. I--will try to do better.
The kiddo's summer vacation officially begins today. I don't know who is happier about that. It will be nice to have a break from the school. The end of this school year was a very unpleasant time. Those people kept on ticking me off with some of their antics, some of which made my daughter cry more than was necessary. I'm still fuming about some things, and I really don't want to get into it right now with my heartburn already bothering me. That is a post for later, I don't want to ruin my calm mood right now.
I have taken to calling everyone "darling" which I say with some sort of accent. It is a rather odd personality tick that I have developed which I can't seem to shake. It's my flair. I don't really want to talk about my flair. (Office Space, love that movie)
Those darn dogs went and dug up and tore up all the hard work hubby and I did in the back yard. This week I will have to go out there, shovel up all of the wood chips we put there to kill the weeds, and redo the landscaping fabric we put under it which is nearly shredded now from the dogs digging in there.
The first time they just displaced things, so I went and got some pots of flowers and placed them over the spot they dug up. The second time was when they really trashed it, I found the pots in the yard, and one I had placed in there with nothing more than soil and seeds had been completely dumped over and drug through the yard. I know it was the dog and not the horrendous wind we've had lately because the pot had bit marks on it, and I saw the boy dog go and drag the thing off of the porch later that day.
So hubby went and put a bench in there, some cinder blocks (not my decor of choice mind you) and the pots of flowers back until we could get in there and repair the destruction. Oh but I intend to fix their wagons, I am going to put rocks down in there. I want to see them dig up rocks without any opposable thumbs. I want to see it.
One of my many German neighbors told me the other day that the yard looks better than it ever has. That was nice to hear, we have been putting in a great deal of effort there.
That is pretty much all I have right now. I'm thinking about yard work, I can't wait to get out there. I know I am a total nerd. Or obsessed. I should have time to post more this week. We shall see.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
We Don't Even Know What We Are Doing
Doing It Anyway.
Hubby and I did yard work all day. I think he sees it as work. I do too, but I also see it as fun. We worked for hours on this one flower bed in our back yard. The flower bed is nothing but a horrendous mess of weeds that eventually approach the height of the privacy fence beside them. The sunflowers haven't come in yet, but oh boy when they do it is a huge mess.
I like sunflowers as much as the next person, I was born in Kansas land of the sunflower, but when mixed in with several different species of noxious weeds the whole situation gets out of control immediately and the result is a sorry looking eyesore that is nearly impossible to mow beside without getting scraped and scratched by stickers and possibly even stung by bees and wasps. It is just not good.
The weed wacker can barely manage the majority of very thick weeds, and it quickly gets out of hand. We decided to take the bull by the horns before it reached its usual unbearable stage. We took a couple of hours to cut down each and every one of those weeds which have already got more established than we would like, and after we got it all cleared out we put weed killer down, and then covered it with that weed preventer stuff. After having done all of that, we finally filled the beds with mulch, or wood chips if you will.
The combination of the weed preventer fabric, and the mulch will hopefully prevent the above mentioned scenario, and although it is rather plain, we felt it was a fairly cost effective solution to the problem. We thought about planting some bushes in there, but decided that would cost too much right now. Instead we decided that later we can place nice looking containers of flowers, and hey, it is the perfect location for about 50 garden gnomes. Hey, why not?
As of yet, we don't have any lawn ornaments, but I think a couple of cutesy tootsy things placed in there would be kind of fun, and it would give me the perfect reason to buy that totally cool Buddha statue I saw at Lowes. I was a little apprehensive about using someone's religious symbol as a simple garden ornament, and this has prevented me from buying one in the first place, but I really do like the statue. I'm not sure if that sort of thing is really acceptable since I know next to nothing about Buddhism anyway.
I just thought how distasteful I found it when I heard of someone placing a Crucifix in a jar of urine, and don't want to be a hypocrit here. Granted, the Buddha statue would be treated much more nicely in my backyard anyway.
I remember my aunt used to have this little black boy statue in her yard, a lot of people had them. Someone decided these were derogatory and people seemed to almost simultaneously decide to remove these things from their yards. Maybe they just fell out of fashion, I don't know I was a little kid then.
I heard several years ago that some of Roseanne Barr's neighbors were highly offended that she had taken to placing hundreds of plastic pink flamingos in her yard in the high class neighborhood she was living in. I found that story amusing as I imagined some rich folks being bent out of shape about her cheap lawn decor, never mind the fact that a hundreds of plastic pink flamingos are not cheap for most people.
We haven't decided exactly what we will do with the new flower bed. It won't be a flower bed in the traditional sense because there is no way a flower could survive in there with those vicious weeds. Our goal was to kill them. Hopefully we will succeed at that. We didn't really know what we were doing. We just did it, and are hoping it works.
Hubby and I did yard work all day. I think he sees it as work. I do too, but I also see it as fun. We worked for hours on this one flower bed in our back yard. The flower bed is nothing but a horrendous mess of weeds that eventually approach the height of the privacy fence beside them. The sunflowers haven't come in yet, but oh boy when they do it is a huge mess.
I like sunflowers as much as the next person, I was born in Kansas land of the sunflower, but when mixed in with several different species of noxious weeds the whole situation gets out of control immediately and the result is a sorry looking eyesore that is nearly impossible to mow beside without getting scraped and scratched by stickers and possibly even stung by bees and wasps. It is just not good.
The weed wacker can barely manage the majority of very thick weeds, and it quickly gets out of hand. We decided to take the bull by the horns before it reached its usual unbearable stage. We took a couple of hours to cut down each and every one of those weeds which have already got more established than we would like, and after we got it all cleared out we put weed killer down, and then covered it with that weed preventer stuff. After having done all of that, we finally filled the beds with mulch, or wood chips if you will.
The combination of the weed preventer fabric, and the mulch will hopefully prevent the above mentioned scenario, and although it is rather plain, we felt it was a fairly cost effective solution to the problem. We thought about planting some bushes in there, but decided that would cost too much right now. Instead we decided that later we can place nice looking containers of flowers, and hey, it is the perfect location for about 50 garden gnomes. Hey, why not?
As of yet, we don't have any lawn ornaments, but I think a couple of cutesy tootsy things placed in there would be kind of fun, and it would give me the perfect reason to buy that totally cool Buddha statue I saw at Lowes. I was a little apprehensive about using someone's religious symbol as a simple garden ornament, and this has prevented me from buying one in the first place, but I really do like the statue. I'm not sure if that sort of thing is really acceptable since I know next to nothing about Buddhism anyway.
I just thought how distasteful I found it when I heard of someone placing a Crucifix in a jar of urine, and don't want to be a hypocrit here. Granted, the Buddha statue would be treated much more nicely in my backyard anyway.
I remember my aunt used to have this little black boy statue in her yard, a lot of people had them. Someone decided these were derogatory and people seemed to almost simultaneously decide to remove these things from their yards. Maybe they just fell out of fashion, I don't know I was a little kid then.
I heard several years ago that some of Roseanne Barr's neighbors were highly offended that she had taken to placing hundreds of plastic pink flamingos in her yard in the high class neighborhood she was living in. I found that story amusing as I imagined some rich folks being bent out of shape about her cheap lawn decor, never mind the fact that a hundreds of plastic pink flamingos are not cheap for most people.
We haven't decided exactly what we will do with the new flower bed. It won't be a flower bed in the traditional sense because there is no way a flower could survive in there with those vicious weeds. Our goal was to kill them. Hopefully we will succeed at that. We didn't really know what we were doing. We just did it, and are hoping it works.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Mad Dogs
Demand Their Day.
The dogs are not very happy that I neglected to post pictures of them as well. The fact that my last post included pics of nothing but those quote, "orange, eating and pooping machines," upset them to no end. I anticipate a rebellion brewing and will definitely make sure the trash can is out of reach tonight.
I can't blame the dogs really. According to them, those lazy cats do nothing but eat food and then poop it out in cat litter that we have to buy and change all the time, and they even have the nerve to scratch at the brand new furniture. One has to admit that at least the dogs do provide a service by barking at strangers, and guarding the home from intruders. The cats don't do that.
Yes, for once the dogs have managed to convince me that there are indeed creatures in this house who are lazier than they are, and that is saying a lot. At least the cats don't hog up the bed, that's a plus in their favor, and they have figured out how to use a toilet, even if it is only a rudimentary box full of sand.
Which brings me to the question that all thinking people eventually ask themselves, is this really what life is all about? Eating and pooping? Everything in life seems to come back to this simple thing. It is why billions of people get out of bed everyday.
Some people believe that is all there is to life, that we are simply creatures with biological functions and nothing more. When we stop eating and pooping we die. That's it. I can't believe that. I've never been able to believe that. It is not because I am scared to believe it, it is because it doesn't make sense to me.
The universe is an amazing thing. When I was a teen ager I could sit and ponder the universe for hours. I would follow my dad around the house picking his brain about space, the moon, the stars and the planets. I would ask where the universe ends, how far does it go, does it really go on forever, how is it contained, what is it contained in, where did the universe come from and many other questions. Whenever I think about God, I think about the universe. I've always felt that somehow the two were connected.
This is why I find faith so much easier than atheism. It seems pretty darn bold to just say, there is no God. Period. Now I can understand a little waffling when it comes to religion, but to just outright say there is no Creator? I don't understand that. How exactly does one reach that conclusion without any evidence other than scientific theories. I suppose they base it on a lack of evidence. That is the usual argument I hear.
Anyway, definitely a good after dinner front porch swing topic. Whatever the case may be, my dogs don't seem to care one way or the other, but I can't say for sure that they haven't thought of it though. One thing is certain, they definitely do not like most cats.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
In The Midst Of My Meltdown
Must Make Time For Blogging.
All right. I do that a lot, start posts with "all right" that is. It's my way of saying, "listen up people, for once I've got something to say, and it might be good." Even if most likely it really isn't good, it is just me hoping, or possibly a desperate cry for attention. My friend has a saying for when we, she or someone does something bad, "Going to hell in gasoline drawers," she'll say, and I always promise myself that someday I will work that statement into an everyday conversation, but I forget to do it besides I probably wouldn't say it right anyway.
Well lately I've been running around in a pair of gas soaked panties feeling like I am going to burn for my nasty mood and demeanor. Cranky? Yes. Bitchy? Certainly. Hormonal? What's it to you punk? Yeah. I've been mean. Meaner than usual? Check. I don't know why. Women hate it when people say, "are we hormonal?" Yet, that's the first thing we say when we are, and we know we have been bad. Men hate to hear it, they think it is just an excuse to be bitchy.
Well it isn't. I genuinely feel out of sorts when my hormones get out of whack, and I most definitely cannot be trusted with any decisions of importance. I cannot be trusted. I will make a choice that is based purely on emotion, anger, all around meanness or just to spite whoever has made the foolish mistake of crossing my path sideways. At times like these I am prone to angry ranting all while I stifle back tears. At times like these I can defend myself with a verbal ferocity that makes grown men cry for momma. And then I want to cry, and I think everyone is mad at me, and hates me, Lord, am I bi-polar?
That's the kind of day I had. It started off beautiful and full of laughter, and it ended with yelling and bitterness. No, I didn't yell at poor hubby, I love him. I basically directed it at someone who pissed me off, and he yelled too but eventually we hugged and made up. I had a legitimate beef, but I do feel my emotions got the better of me even though I am pretty sure my husband would say I handled it well. For some reason he really gets a kick out of me ripping someone a new one when they need it.
I'm exhausted. Will be back soon when the meanness subsides a bit. Tomorrow maybe.
All right. I do that a lot, start posts with "all right" that is. It's my way of saying, "listen up people, for once I've got something to say, and it might be good." Even if most likely it really isn't good, it is just me hoping, or possibly a desperate cry for attention. My friend has a saying for when we, she or someone does something bad, "Going to hell in gasoline drawers," she'll say, and I always promise myself that someday I will work that statement into an everyday conversation, but I forget to do it besides I probably wouldn't say it right anyway.
Well lately I've been running around in a pair of gas soaked panties feeling like I am going to burn for my nasty mood and demeanor. Cranky? Yes. Bitchy? Certainly. Hormonal? What's it to you punk? Yeah. I've been mean. Meaner than usual? Check. I don't know why. Women hate it when people say, "are we hormonal?" Yet, that's the first thing we say when we are, and we know we have been bad. Men hate to hear it, they think it is just an excuse to be bitchy.
Well it isn't. I genuinely feel out of sorts when my hormones get out of whack, and I most definitely cannot be trusted with any decisions of importance. I cannot be trusted. I will make a choice that is based purely on emotion, anger, all around meanness or just to spite whoever has made the foolish mistake of crossing my path sideways. At times like these I am prone to angry ranting all while I stifle back tears. At times like these I can defend myself with a verbal ferocity that makes grown men cry for momma. And then I want to cry, and I think everyone is mad at me, and hates me, Lord, am I bi-polar?
That's the kind of day I had. It started off beautiful and full of laughter, and it ended with yelling and bitterness. No, I didn't yell at poor hubby, I love him. I basically directed it at someone who pissed me off, and he yelled too but eventually we hugged and made up. I had a legitimate beef, but I do feel my emotions got the better of me even though I am pretty sure my husband would say I handled it well. For some reason he really gets a kick out of me ripping someone a new one when they need it.
I'm exhausted. Will be back soon when the meanness subsides a bit. Tomorrow maybe.
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