Just Stuff.
1. We already put our Christmas tree up.
2. My husband and I never buy each other Christmas gifts. This was a tradition we started when we first got married, and everyone did tell us that we would make our own traditions as a family. Back then we were too broke to buy each other anything, now I guess we are just too cheap. My husband says, "Just buy what you want throughout the year", I think he just doesn't like shopping all that much.
3. Our daughter gets a lion share of gifts for Christmas because she is an only child, and because we don't buy for each other.
4. The kiddo wants an X-box, or some other such trendy gadget for Christmas, she is not getting one. I just won't spend nearly $400 on one of these things. That is ridiculous. She will still have a nice Christmas.
5. Some years the majority of gifts our family received were from my parents. Our first year stationed overseas, we were so broke from the move that we could not afford anything much at all, even for our daughter, and my mother knowing this, sent so many boxes that we actually had gifts under the tree.
6. I've never made a whole Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner in all of these years. The 3 of us would never eat all of that food even if I tried to make smaller portions.
7. Our first Thanksgiving overseas we ate at Taco Bell on base.
8. The holidays are not as fun when you have no family around.
9. My husband and I are both going to be working on Christmas.
10. We both had Thanksgiving off. We had dinner at my parent's house.
11. Thanksgiving was the first major holiday I have had off in 3 years.
12. My husband will be working on Christmas for the next 7 years.
13. The holidays are only really fun for people when they are off and get to spend that time with family.
14. The best part about Christmas for me is the tree and the decorations because I actually get to enjoy those parts at my leisure.
15. Christmas has been marketed to death, but I still think it is an important time for families, and an important day of celebration for our culture. Nothing will make someone appreciate that time more, than not being able to participate in the celebrations.
16. At least we got Thanksgiving off. That was nice.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
I Don't Like Him
Which 2008 candidate do you hate the most?
The candidate you like least is Democrat Barack Obama. He is pro-choice, opposes the death penalty, wants universal healthcare, supports embryonic stem cell research, is in favor of banning assault weapons -- this guy is your worst nightmare!
Take the quiz at Buttafly.comDeath And Taxes
Taxed in the Grave.
There were two homes, my grandparent's home which my father was born and raised in, and the house across the street that was my great parent's home. When the last of the great grandparent's passed away in 1974, my uncle ended up living in that house, it became his. I don't know the circumstances as to how that happened, but it was his, and no one had any beef with that. He may have bought it from my grandparents, I don't know, it is not really important.
My grandfather died in 1983, and my grandmother continued living in their home until her death in 1998, at that time, the house went to 3 of the 4 children. My dad did not want to be included in that as we live in a different state, and other reasons that aren't all that important. So, my uncle took out a mortgage, and bought the other two siblings out of the house. Truth be told they didn't want the house, they wanted the money, it was a win win for the most part.
So, my uncle had his house which was my great grandparent's home, and he also owned the house across the street which was my grandparent's home. He felt they were family homes, and did not want to let them go. In many ways he became a prisoner of those two homes. Both homes were very old, over 100 years old, and with that they needed some repairs although, overall both are in very good condition.
He put a lot of money in his home, and did many major upgrades and repairs. Grandmother's home was empty a lot of the time. He couldn't bear to let anyone other than family live in that home. He did let one of my cousins light there for a while, and my husband, daughter and I even lived in that house when he left the Marine Corps, we paid a very modest rent, which covered the mortgage he had to take out on it to buy the other two out. I got homesick for mom and dad, and we decided to move closer to parents.
Then grandmother's house was empty again. No one was there to enjoy the beautiful woodwork, the mahogany stair case, and all of the other great features old homes like that have to offer. It still sits empty.
When my uncle learned he was dying, he wanted to marry his lovely lady, and leave her his estate. He was going to leave the homes to my dad, but my dad did not want them. He has no intention of moving back there, and agreed that he should leave these things to his wife. Which is what my uncle decided to do.
He had an iron clad will, and had plans to add her to all titles etc. but he ran out of time. The doctors thought he might have 9 months to a year and a half, it turns out he died 2 months after they gave him this timeline. He got very ill towards the end and didn't get all of those things done. When he left us for a better world, we have only his will, and their marriage to support his wishes.
For most decent people that would be enough, but unfortunately, his estate is going to go to probate. I don't know what that is, other than an opportunity for thieves to rape and pillage his estate down to next to nothing. Which is what is going to happen. The attorney has already suggested that his wife will have to sell my grandmother's home to pay the probate and lawyer's fees. It will cost that much. The state takes a percentage of the estate, and the lawyer matches it.
That is the best case scenario, the worst case scenario is his widow may have to sell both properties to pay the costs. It all depends on how much our glorious rulers think is enough. All this so that some newspaper ads can be run to see who else wants a piece of the action. Never mind the fact that his widow could have assumed his debts, if any, and paid them with whatever he left. No, that's too darn simple.
I am astounded, and I had no idea this would happen. It is such a shame, and a sham. My dad said to me, "You know, I'd have more respect for a thief that sticks a gun in my face and robs me than this."
Even if my uncle had been able to get his new wife's name on everything, the state is not satisfied with that, they like to take a look back over the last couple of years to see if people have tried to unload anything that they might have been able to take. Their situation of being newly married complicated things, but the state still would have came barging in.
This is a very serious lesson, one that no one should learn while in the process of grieving the loss of a loved one. The state is hard enough to take on, let alone when in such a fragile state. It is disgusting. There are less and less ways around these death taxes.
It is a shame to work your whole life for something only to have it taken away and sold off for profit by greedy people. Let this be a lesson to you. Don't wait until you are ill to talk about these things, and work on them. Somehow my grandmother avoided probate because she had put her children's names on the title of everything. That is about the only loophole left, but you can't do it a year before you die as the state looks back. These are things an attorney should be able to get through, and prevent happening, but even still they have motive to let you fall into that probate trap as well.
I tell you, we're going to have to go back to hiding things in our mattresses. Something to think about.
There were two homes, my grandparent's home which my father was born and raised in, and the house across the street that was my great parent's home. When the last of the great grandparent's passed away in 1974, my uncle ended up living in that house, it became his. I don't know the circumstances as to how that happened, but it was his, and no one had any beef with that. He may have bought it from my grandparents, I don't know, it is not really important.
My grandfather died in 1983, and my grandmother continued living in their home until her death in 1998, at that time, the house went to 3 of the 4 children. My dad did not want to be included in that as we live in a different state, and other reasons that aren't all that important. So, my uncle took out a mortgage, and bought the other two siblings out of the house. Truth be told they didn't want the house, they wanted the money, it was a win win for the most part.
So, my uncle had his house which was my great grandparent's home, and he also owned the house across the street which was my grandparent's home. He felt they were family homes, and did not want to let them go. In many ways he became a prisoner of those two homes. Both homes were very old, over 100 years old, and with that they needed some repairs although, overall both are in very good condition.
He put a lot of money in his home, and did many major upgrades and repairs. Grandmother's home was empty a lot of the time. He couldn't bear to let anyone other than family live in that home. He did let one of my cousins light there for a while, and my husband, daughter and I even lived in that house when he left the Marine Corps, we paid a very modest rent, which covered the mortgage he had to take out on it to buy the other two out. I got homesick for mom and dad, and we decided to move closer to parents.
Then grandmother's house was empty again. No one was there to enjoy the beautiful woodwork, the mahogany stair case, and all of the other great features old homes like that have to offer. It still sits empty.
When my uncle learned he was dying, he wanted to marry his lovely lady, and leave her his estate. He was going to leave the homes to my dad, but my dad did not want them. He has no intention of moving back there, and agreed that he should leave these things to his wife. Which is what my uncle decided to do.
He had an iron clad will, and had plans to add her to all titles etc. but he ran out of time. The doctors thought he might have 9 months to a year and a half, it turns out he died 2 months after they gave him this timeline. He got very ill towards the end and didn't get all of those things done. When he left us for a better world, we have only his will, and their marriage to support his wishes.
For most decent people that would be enough, but unfortunately, his estate is going to go to probate. I don't know what that is, other than an opportunity for thieves to rape and pillage his estate down to next to nothing. Which is what is going to happen. The attorney has already suggested that his wife will have to sell my grandmother's home to pay the probate and lawyer's fees. It will cost that much. The state takes a percentage of the estate, and the lawyer matches it.
That is the best case scenario, the worst case scenario is his widow may have to sell both properties to pay the costs. It all depends on how much our glorious rulers think is enough. All this so that some newspaper ads can be run to see who else wants a piece of the action. Never mind the fact that his widow could have assumed his debts, if any, and paid them with whatever he left. No, that's too darn simple.
I am astounded, and I had no idea this would happen. It is such a shame, and a sham. My dad said to me, "You know, I'd have more respect for a thief that sticks a gun in my face and robs me than this."
Even if my uncle had been able to get his new wife's name on everything, the state is not satisfied with that, they like to take a look back over the last couple of years to see if people have tried to unload anything that they might have been able to take. Their situation of being newly married complicated things, but the state still would have came barging in.
This is a very serious lesson, one that no one should learn while in the process of grieving the loss of a loved one. The state is hard enough to take on, let alone when in such a fragile state. It is disgusting. There are less and less ways around these death taxes.
It is a shame to work your whole life for something only to have it taken away and sold off for profit by greedy people. Let this be a lesson to you. Don't wait until you are ill to talk about these things, and work on them. Somehow my grandmother avoided probate because she had put her children's names on the title of everything. That is about the only loophole left, but you can't do it a year before you die as the state looks back. These are things an attorney should be able to get through, and prevent happening, but even still they have motive to let you fall into that probate trap as well.
I tell you, we're going to have to go back to hiding things in our mattresses. Something to think about.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Time Crunch
Loose Ends.
We lost my uncle last Saturday, he was my dad's youngest brother, and really the last of any family we have outside of our clan. He was 54 years old, a Captain with his police department, and an all around great guy. He had met a nice woman a few years ago, and was finally able to love again after having gone through a trainwreck of a divorce and marriage. She was his perfect match, and I could tell they had become extremely close, close on that level that we often refer to as "soulmates".
He had a rare form of cancer, which was a particularly vicious cancer of the liver. Chemo and radiation did nothing to spite this cancer, and as his time neared the end he fought hard. He suffered, and was in terrible agony. His new wife, my dad and I were there. Dad and I were the only ones who could get away, but the rest of our family would have been there if at all possible. My mom virtually sat and cried at home at her kitchen table for a week and a half because she wanted to be there for him, but she couldn't. Her own health would not permit such a trip.
My uncle was a dedicated planner. Being a police officer for over 30 years, he had a way of seeing and planning for every possible contingency and always tried to have all of his ducks in a row. Unfortunately in this case, time was not on his side. He left some loose ends behind, but he tried everything he could to get it all right. He had spent the last several years working hard to get right with God, and that relationship gave him a great deal of comfort at the end. He was a very private person and I'm not even sure he would have liked all of the attention his passing was given, but he would have gave a most sheepish grin, and accepted it most likely. He never wanted to offend anyone.
We found many people cared very deeply for him, and they were overwhelmingly supportive and sympathetic. His passing and funeral made the evening news. I had no idea so many people knew him in so many ways. The community came out and offered a great deal of respect towards the man that I knew as a humble person. It was surreal in so many ways, and I don't use that word lightly. He was a special person, a complicated man, a storyteller, and a person with a great sense of humor. I will miss those things about him the most.
Many lessons were learned here. Take care of those loose ends. Just love each other.
We lost my uncle last Saturday, he was my dad's youngest brother, and really the last of any family we have outside of our clan. He was 54 years old, a Captain with his police department, and an all around great guy. He had met a nice woman a few years ago, and was finally able to love again after having gone through a trainwreck of a divorce and marriage. She was his perfect match, and I could tell they had become extremely close, close on that level that we often refer to as "soulmates".
He had a rare form of cancer, which was a particularly vicious cancer of the liver. Chemo and radiation did nothing to spite this cancer, and as his time neared the end he fought hard. He suffered, and was in terrible agony. His new wife, my dad and I were there. Dad and I were the only ones who could get away, but the rest of our family would have been there if at all possible. My mom virtually sat and cried at home at her kitchen table for a week and a half because she wanted to be there for him, but she couldn't. Her own health would not permit such a trip.
My uncle was a dedicated planner. Being a police officer for over 30 years, he had a way of seeing and planning for every possible contingency and always tried to have all of his ducks in a row. Unfortunately in this case, time was not on his side. He left some loose ends behind, but he tried everything he could to get it all right. He had spent the last several years working hard to get right with God, and that relationship gave him a great deal of comfort at the end. He was a very private person and I'm not even sure he would have liked all of the attention his passing was given, but he would have gave a most sheepish grin, and accepted it most likely. He never wanted to offend anyone.
We found many people cared very deeply for him, and they were overwhelmingly supportive and sympathetic. His passing and funeral made the evening news. I had no idea so many people knew him in so many ways. The community came out and offered a great deal of respect towards the man that I knew as a humble person. It was surreal in so many ways, and I don't use that word lightly. He was a special person, a complicated man, a storyteller, and a person with a great sense of humor. I will miss those things about him the most.
Many lessons were learned here. Take care of those loose ends. Just love each other.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Deep Sigh
Update.
I'm back home. My dad and I arrived last night. I have a ton of things to do, but first things first, I need to make some coffee, and then maybe make a list. I've missed my blog, and all of the blogs that I read. I have not looked at a single blog, including my own since I left home almost two weeks ago.
I want to get caught up on all of that really soon. My husband is such a dear man, he thinks I have "fans", hehe, I asked him to post something so people wouldn't think that I had died, and he promptly took care of that for me.
Anyway, I just wanted to drop in really quick, I have to get up and get away from the computer immediately, or I will be tempted to go visit my favorites and that will distract me from the overwhelming pile of things I have to do today--right now. I want to get back as soon as possible because I have a lot of stuff I want to write about.
Our family suffered a huge and tragic loss. He was all we had left of family outside of my parents and siblings, and we all loved him very much. Back Soon.
I'm back home. My dad and I arrived last night. I have a ton of things to do, but first things first, I need to make some coffee, and then maybe make a list. I've missed my blog, and all of the blogs that I read. I have not looked at a single blog, including my own since I left home almost two weeks ago.
I want to get caught up on all of that really soon. My husband is such a dear man, he thinks I have "fans", hehe, I asked him to post something so people wouldn't think that I had died, and he promptly took care of that for me.
Anyway, I just wanted to drop in really quick, I have to get up and get away from the computer immediately, or I will be tempted to go visit my favorites and that will distract me from the overwhelming pile of things I have to do today--right now. I want to get back as soon as possible because I have a lot of stuff I want to write about.
Our family suffered a huge and tragic loss. He was all we had left of family outside of my parents and siblings, and we all loved him very much. Back Soon.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Away From Keyboard
Dear Family, Friends, and Loyal Fans,
This post was titled Away From Keyboard, also known as AFK. It's early in the morning and AFK was the best I could come up with. Anyway, my wife is unfortunately out of town and has been for about a week. She asked me to post something here explaining her sudden disappearance. In summary, one of her last living relatives, her uncle, was very sick. She felt obligated to be there with him so she left immediately. I will end on that note. If she wants to fill you in with more details, more power to her. Nevertheless, she sends her deepest apologies for not being avail to post in her blog. However, she asks that if you can find it in your heart to forgive her, she would feel so much better. She loves and misses you all.
Sincerely,
Brown Eyes
This post was titled Away From Keyboard, also known as AFK. It's early in the morning and AFK was the best I could come up with. Anyway, my wife is unfortunately out of town and has been for about a week. She asked me to post something here explaining her sudden disappearance. In summary, one of her last living relatives, her uncle, was very sick. She felt obligated to be there with him so she left immediately. I will end on that note. If she wants to fill you in with more details, more power to her. Nevertheless, she sends her deepest apologies for not being avail to post in her blog. However, she asks that if you can find it in your heart to forgive her, she would feel so much better. She loves and misses you all.
Sincerely,
Brown Eyes
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
That's So Passive Aggressive!
My brother found this passive aggressive note. It cracked us up. See also PassiveaggressiveNotes for more humorous notes.
Update: It seems there are tons of these signs out there, who would have thought? Posted just one day after this over at PassiveaggressiveNotes are tons of signs saying the exact same thing.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Things The Baby Has Chewed On This Week
I have no life.
We're still in the honeymoon phase with the new baby. Sure, I get tired of my living room looking like a playground with various chew toys strewn about, but the pleasure exceeds the inconvenience so we deal with it.
He's just so darn fluffy and cute, there was no way I could get mad at him today when he managed to go outside with a pair of my daughter's undies in his ferocious razor sharp baby teeth. He proceeded to carry them to and fro around the back yard, until I went to call him in and noticed he was carrying them around. It was a little embarrassing, but I thought the chances of someone actually noticing the little fur ball with the underpants was pretty slim, but to be on the safe side, I made my daughter run out and get them right away anyway. It's best we not let the little guy parade our unmentionables in such an unruly manner in front of the neighbors.
So far he has managed to kill the hedgehog puppet, a rabbit fur, and a phone cord. He has also taken ownership of a stray flip flop, and anything and everything he can find that will fit in his tiny mouth. I ask how he finds all of this stuff, but it seems a mystery to all at this point. Frankly, I blame my daughter, she's really good at leaving stuff laying about, but then again, she probably gets that trait from me, and I from my mother and so on, and it all boils down to it being the fault of my long lost great grandparents, who were first cousins and therefore not very great genetic candidates for breeding responsible and normal people.
He has been proving himself to be quite a sneaky and foxy little thing after all. He has tried on many occasion to take over the big dog bowl of food, he has his own little dog bowl with puppy food in it, but he prefers to eat from the big bowl which doesn't bode well at times with the big guys and sometimes there is gruffing and complaining, but it mostly comes from the little one trying to take over the bowl when the big dogs are eating. He has figured out that I hide the bag of dog food behind the bench of the nook, and he has also, through sound and logical research, realized that if he jumps on that bag when our big boy dog is at the bowl, the sound of the bag crunching startles him and he leaves the bowl.
I can't help but be entertained by this, and when I told my husband about it he looked at me as if I had just said, "Our dogs know how to read." He took a very skeptical position right away, until we sat at the table and it happened, and I said, "There, did you see that?" Yes, sure he did, but one incident did not prove anything to him, and so the pup as if knowing somehow, went and did it again, and then my husband said, "Oh my gosh, he's smart!" And then we felt very proud.
They grow up so fast!
We're still in the honeymoon phase with the new baby. Sure, I get tired of my living room looking like a playground with various chew toys strewn about, but the pleasure exceeds the inconvenience so we deal with it.
He's just so darn fluffy and cute, there was no way I could get mad at him today when he managed to go outside with a pair of my daughter's undies in his ferocious razor sharp baby teeth. He proceeded to carry them to and fro around the back yard, until I went to call him in and noticed he was carrying them around. It was a little embarrassing, but I thought the chances of someone actually noticing the little fur ball with the underpants was pretty slim, but to be on the safe side, I made my daughter run out and get them right away anyway. It's best we not let the little guy parade our unmentionables in such an unruly manner in front of the neighbors.
So far he has managed to kill the hedgehog puppet, a rabbit fur, and a phone cord. He has also taken ownership of a stray flip flop, and anything and everything he can find that will fit in his tiny mouth. I ask how he finds all of this stuff, but it seems a mystery to all at this point. Frankly, I blame my daughter, she's really good at leaving stuff laying about, but then again, she probably gets that trait from me, and I from my mother and so on, and it all boils down to it being the fault of my long lost great grandparents, who were first cousins and therefore not very great genetic candidates for breeding responsible and normal people.
He has been proving himself to be quite a sneaky and foxy little thing after all. He has tried on many occasion to take over the big dog bowl of food, he has his own little dog bowl with puppy food in it, but he prefers to eat from the big bowl which doesn't bode well at times with the big guys and sometimes there is gruffing and complaining, but it mostly comes from the little one trying to take over the bowl when the big dogs are eating. He has figured out that I hide the bag of dog food behind the bench of the nook, and he has also, through sound and logical research, realized that if he jumps on that bag when our big boy dog is at the bowl, the sound of the bag crunching startles him and he leaves the bowl.
I can't help but be entertained by this, and when I told my husband about it he looked at me as if I had just said, "Our dogs know how to read." He took a very skeptical position right away, until we sat at the table and it happened, and I said, "There, did you see that?" Yes, sure he did, but one incident did not prove anything to him, and so the pup as if knowing somehow, went and did it again, and then my husband said, "Oh my gosh, he's smart!" And then we felt very proud.
They grow up so fast!
What Have They Done?
Strange Vegetables.
My friend bought these at produce stand at the flea market, she gave me two of them. I've never seen cucumbers like this before, I'm quite perplexed, and a bit afraid to eat them.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I Clicked
I'm Here.
I will write something.
First, homeschooling. Despite meeting much resistance by a certain spoiled 12 year old, I have managed to pull the energy from my already tapped reserves to persevere and push on. She is trying really hard to break me down. She is pulling out all of the stops, and is not trying to make this easy on me at all. She doesn't want to do the work. She doesn't see the importance of it, and yet, I see her having success. For example, she can look at a globe of our planet and point out the 7 continents, she can name the four oceans, and knows which direction is east west north south, and can even name interesting features of each continent. For example, she is familiar with the Great Plains of North America, and the Rainforests of South America.
It doesn't sound like much, but I see it as a major accomplishment for her, and myself. It is something that causes me to say, "Hey, you might not think you are learning anything, but look at what you know!" I wish I could say it inspires her to want to learn more, and sometimes it does, but most of the time I have to really work hard to get her to participate. Despite that, we are learning about matter now in science. She hasn't mastered this concept, but she is getting there, and I'm surprised at how much I had forgotten of basic concepts, but it has been fun learning.
We are progressing although I think it is much harder on me than her. She is really trying to get out of this work, and is not making it easy on me at all. I have cried many tears over this. I keep working on it, on her. I know she can do this, but she doesn't believe me, yet.
Second, the roses. I cut down my beautiful rose bushes yesterday. The temperatures are more like fall now, and they were really starting to wilt. I have never had rose bushes, so I am not even sure if I did it right. I hoped as I cut them down that they would come back next year with as much glory as they had this summer. I will be disappointed if I inadvertently killed them, or ruined them.
I'm lazy, so instead of raking all of the leaves that covered my front yard, I got out the lawn mower and took off. I felt sort of stupid mowing the lawn when it didn't need it, but it sure did clean up those leaves. After I mowed I watered the yard so that all of the cut up leaves would sink in a provide nourishment to the grass. My dad says our climate is too dry for this to work, but I did it anyway, thinking, I will just water really good, and besides it looks a whole lot better. It's a little trick my uncle in Missouri taught me, "don't rake, mulch instead!" is his motto, and I think it just works for me.
I noticed my neighbor watching me out there, and I thought, he probably thinks I am an idiot, but I noticed later he went out with his mower and did the same thing, so maybe I inspired him, and I'm not so dumb afterall.
Next, the puppy is still bringing much joy to our household. My goodness! What a little character he is. He's been into all sorts of trouble, and he completely ignores his name. He doesn't like being called Pumpkin, so we pretty much just call him "Puppy Power" most of the time, and he answers to that. He really likes people food, and knows how to beg already, but he knew that before he came to live here, he's been doing that since day one.
The girl dog developed a case of hives, and her face swelled up. I was quite worried about her, but my sister told me we could give her Benadryl, and after two doses she was all better, and it saved me an expensive trip to the emergency vet. I've never seen a dog have an allergic reaction like that before. I decided that if she didn't show any signs of relief the next morning, I would take her in, but luckily she got all better over night.
And, my dad was supposed to retire this month, but when I asked my mom about it the other day she told me they offered him a very generous raise, and he said he couldn't turn it down, so he will be working longer. I don't know when he plans to retire now. He works so hard. He always has, since he was a young child working on his grandfather's two farms, he has always just worked and worked. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for his loved ones. If I asked him to come and mow my lawn every week, he would do it, of course I would never do that. As it is right now, he spends quite a great deal of his free time mowing the enormous yard that surrounds his church, with winter coming he will have a reprieve from that, but I'm sure there will be other things that need tending to.
This post is getting long, so I will close for now. People always tell me my posts are too long. I think they are right. I have not mastered the short concise snippet thing that so many others seem to be good at. I'm just too long winded for my own good I guess.
I will write something.
First, homeschooling. Despite meeting much resistance by a certain spoiled 12 year old, I have managed to pull the energy from my already tapped reserves to persevere and push on. She is trying really hard to break me down. She is pulling out all of the stops, and is not trying to make this easy on me at all. She doesn't want to do the work. She doesn't see the importance of it, and yet, I see her having success. For example, she can look at a globe of our planet and point out the 7 continents, she can name the four oceans, and knows which direction is east west north south, and can even name interesting features of each continent. For example, she is familiar with the Great Plains of North America, and the Rainforests of South America.
It doesn't sound like much, but I see it as a major accomplishment for her, and myself. It is something that causes me to say, "Hey, you might not think you are learning anything, but look at what you know!" I wish I could say it inspires her to want to learn more, and sometimes it does, but most of the time I have to really work hard to get her to participate. Despite that, we are learning about matter now in science. She hasn't mastered this concept, but she is getting there, and I'm surprised at how much I had forgotten of basic concepts, but it has been fun learning.
We are progressing although I think it is much harder on me than her. She is really trying to get out of this work, and is not making it easy on me at all. I have cried many tears over this. I keep working on it, on her. I know she can do this, but she doesn't believe me, yet.
Second, the roses. I cut down my beautiful rose bushes yesterday. The temperatures are more like fall now, and they were really starting to wilt. I have never had rose bushes, so I am not even sure if I did it right. I hoped as I cut them down that they would come back next year with as much glory as they had this summer. I will be disappointed if I inadvertently killed them, or ruined them.
I'm lazy, so instead of raking all of the leaves that covered my front yard, I got out the lawn mower and took off. I felt sort of stupid mowing the lawn when it didn't need it, but it sure did clean up those leaves. After I mowed I watered the yard so that all of the cut up leaves would sink in a provide nourishment to the grass. My dad says our climate is too dry for this to work, but I did it anyway, thinking, I will just water really good, and besides it looks a whole lot better. It's a little trick my uncle in Missouri taught me, "don't rake, mulch instead!" is his motto, and I think it just works for me.
I noticed my neighbor watching me out there, and I thought, he probably thinks I am an idiot, but I noticed later he went out with his mower and did the same thing, so maybe I inspired him, and I'm not so dumb afterall.
Next, the puppy is still bringing much joy to our household. My goodness! What a little character he is. He's been into all sorts of trouble, and he completely ignores his name. He doesn't like being called Pumpkin, so we pretty much just call him "Puppy Power" most of the time, and he answers to that. He really likes people food, and knows how to beg already, but he knew that before he came to live here, he's been doing that since day one.
The girl dog developed a case of hives, and her face swelled up. I was quite worried about her, but my sister told me we could give her Benadryl, and after two doses she was all better, and it saved me an expensive trip to the emergency vet. I've never seen a dog have an allergic reaction like that before. I decided that if she didn't show any signs of relief the next morning, I would take her in, but luckily she got all better over night.
And, my dad was supposed to retire this month, but when I asked my mom about it the other day she told me they offered him a very generous raise, and he said he couldn't turn it down, so he will be working longer. I don't know when he plans to retire now. He works so hard. He always has, since he was a young child working on his grandfather's two farms, he has always just worked and worked. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for his loved ones. If I asked him to come and mow my lawn every week, he would do it, of course I would never do that. As it is right now, he spends quite a great deal of his free time mowing the enormous yard that surrounds his church, with winter coming he will have a reprieve from that, but I'm sure there will be other things that need tending to.
This post is getting long, so I will close for now. People always tell me my posts are too long. I think they are right. I have not mastered the short concise snippet thing that so many others seem to be good at. I'm just too long winded for my own good I guess.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Another Year
Getting Older.
And fatter, but we don't want to talk about that. I had a birthday recently. I'm 37 years old now. I don't really know if I feel my age or not. Most of the time I think I don't. I remember when my mom was my age. She was getting ready to have my brother if I recall correctly. She worked hard as a nurse, and I used to hate it when she went to work. At the time we were living in a less than savory neighborhood in a little 3 bedroom/1 bath rental house.
Around that time our landlord announced that the house was to be painted. He had our house painted green apple. Bright green apple. I don't know if that was the actual name of the color used, but it was the same color as the green apple gum I liked to chew, so I immediately made the connection. I remember my parents saying, "He must have been drunk when he picked out that color!" I had overheard them talking about how he does like to spend a great deal of time in a little dive bar, he had even taken them to lunch at the little bar, and of course my parents were a little appalled at his choice of "restaurant" when he offered to take them to lunch.
That was the year that my wonderful, and pretty 2nd grade teacher started visiting our homes. Every week she would schedule a time to go and visit with the families of her students. When it came our turn, I was very excited. The day before my mom and I spent time tidying up the house, and vacuuming up the white Gidget hairs that we usually ignored unless company was coming. Gidget was our labradoodle. I'm pretty sure that is what she was, although she was a labradoodle before they were even called that and considered cool. She had long hair, and it seemed to fall off in clumps sometimes, at least it really showed up on the 70's olive green carpet we had.
Anyway, I rode home from school with my teacher so I could show her where we lived. When we pulled up to the house I was suddenly embarrassed by the apple green paint our landlord had chosen. I told her, "We just got our house painted, but the landlord was drunk when he picked out the color!" I remember she laughed at that, but I didn't know why, I was being serious. I thought she would be just appalled as I was to think of a man being drunk while shopping for paint colors.
The visit went well as I can remember. I showed her my room, and my dad's desk which was part of my room at the time. She visited with my mom some and left shortly after that.
At the end of the school year we moved. My parent's had bought a house in a completely different neighborhood. It was huge in comparison to our little rental house with 6 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. They still live in that house, it is still a big house to me. The other night I sat at my mom's kitchen table and told her "I remember when you were my age mom, and it wasn't that long ago, life sure does go fast!"
"Oh, I know," she said, "and it goes faster as you get older." I felt a bit sad to think about it. My parents are getting older, both turning 66 this year. I see them having more difficulty with some tasks that used to be so easy for them. I'm ashamed that sometimes I wish my daughter would grow up, and I look forward to a different time in life where I have less burdens. I know it is wrong to feel that way, and I don't really mean it. Sometimes parenting is not a rewarding, and joyful experience, sometimes it it just damn hard work. Lately it has been challenging to say the least.
Having hard times does not change how much I love her, as I'm sure it didn't for my mother either, but your kids can tug on your heart strings in ways no one who isn't a parent can even imagine. I'm serious. For some people parenting is a breeze, their children just do everything right, and are so agreeable. That sure hasn't been my experience lately, but I know this will pass in time, and I will be cursing myself for ever wanting her to grow up faster. I know it.
I just pray to God that I live long enough to see her to independence, able to stand on her own two feet and with the ability to survive in this world with dignity, and honor. I guess in that it would be all worth it. That is the reward in parenting. My tears will no longer be of frustration, but of joy when that happens.
We will see how I feel next year. Hugs.
And fatter, but we don't want to talk about that. I had a birthday recently. I'm 37 years old now. I don't really know if I feel my age or not. Most of the time I think I don't. I remember when my mom was my age. She was getting ready to have my brother if I recall correctly. She worked hard as a nurse, and I used to hate it when she went to work. At the time we were living in a less than savory neighborhood in a little 3 bedroom/1 bath rental house.
Around that time our landlord announced that the house was to be painted. He had our house painted green apple. Bright green apple. I don't know if that was the actual name of the color used, but it was the same color as the green apple gum I liked to chew, so I immediately made the connection. I remember my parents saying, "He must have been drunk when he picked out that color!" I had overheard them talking about how he does like to spend a great deal of time in a little dive bar, he had even taken them to lunch at the little bar, and of course my parents were a little appalled at his choice of "restaurant" when he offered to take them to lunch.
That was the year that my wonderful, and pretty 2nd grade teacher started visiting our homes. Every week she would schedule a time to go and visit with the families of her students. When it came our turn, I was very excited. The day before my mom and I spent time tidying up the house, and vacuuming up the white Gidget hairs that we usually ignored unless company was coming. Gidget was our labradoodle. I'm pretty sure that is what she was, although she was a labradoodle before they were even called that and considered cool. She had long hair, and it seemed to fall off in clumps sometimes, at least it really showed up on the 70's olive green carpet we had.
Anyway, I rode home from school with my teacher so I could show her where we lived. When we pulled up to the house I was suddenly embarrassed by the apple green paint our landlord had chosen. I told her, "We just got our house painted, but the landlord was drunk when he picked out the color!" I remember she laughed at that, but I didn't know why, I was being serious. I thought she would be just appalled as I was to think of a man being drunk while shopping for paint colors.
The visit went well as I can remember. I showed her my room, and my dad's desk which was part of my room at the time. She visited with my mom some and left shortly after that.
At the end of the school year we moved. My parent's had bought a house in a completely different neighborhood. It was huge in comparison to our little rental house with 6 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. They still live in that house, it is still a big house to me. The other night I sat at my mom's kitchen table and told her "I remember when you were my age mom, and it wasn't that long ago, life sure does go fast!"
"Oh, I know," she said, "and it goes faster as you get older." I felt a bit sad to think about it. My parents are getting older, both turning 66 this year. I see them having more difficulty with some tasks that used to be so easy for them. I'm ashamed that sometimes I wish my daughter would grow up, and I look forward to a different time in life where I have less burdens. I know it is wrong to feel that way, and I don't really mean it. Sometimes parenting is not a rewarding, and joyful experience, sometimes it it just damn hard work. Lately it has been challenging to say the least.
Having hard times does not change how much I love her, as I'm sure it didn't for my mother either, but your kids can tug on your heart strings in ways no one who isn't a parent can even imagine. I'm serious. For some people parenting is a breeze, their children just do everything right, and are so agreeable. That sure hasn't been my experience lately, but I know this will pass in time, and I will be cursing myself for ever wanting her to grow up faster. I know it.
I just pray to God that I live long enough to see her to independence, able to stand on her own two feet and with the ability to survive in this world with dignity, and honor. I guess in that it would be all worth it. That is the reward in parenting. My tears will no longer be of frustration, but of joy when that happens.
We will see how I feel next year. Hugs.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Da Funk
Where I've Been.
I am so sorry for not posting anything lately. It is not that I haven't thought about it, it is more that I've just been in a sort of funk lately. My posting now is not a sign that the malaise is gone, just that my friend, the bossy one that reminds me of Peppermint Patty that I call, "sir" basically told me she is sick and tired of coming to this page and finding nothing and that I should post something soon. She went on to remind me lest I had forgotten that I had not posted anything since October 3.
She knows I've been in a cruddy mood lately, and she's been patiently waiting for my blues to pass. Her mood hasn't been all that great lately either, but that's just because since she has been driving her dad's van while her Dodge is in the shop having major repairs she's gone all stressed out career/soccer mom on me. She's doing the supermom thing and I applaud her for that. I drove to McDonalds today for lunch, I was wearing my orange pajama bottoms and a white tee-shirt, with NO BRA, I did at least put shoes on.
I was extremely frustrated that I had to sit at a few traffic lights because all I wanted to do was get home, and back to my HGTV and Fox News. After I ate I marched myself upstairs and went straight to bed. I slept with my husband's shirt snuggled against my face and was quite content until my daughter showed up and started laughing at me for cuddling with her dad's shirt. I told her I miss him and leave me alone with the shirt so I can continue my nap in peace, but she started tugging at the shirt which soon led to a wrestling match in which I exclaimed, "Why can't you just leave me alone with daddy's shirt, I just want to hold it!" Which made her laugh and tug even more until finally I got out of bed and she forgot the shirt.
Then I quietly took the shirt back to bed where I snuggled with it again and slept just a little while longer until some screaming brats outside woke me up for good. I needed to get up anyway.
I feel like I wasted the whole day, but I am starting to perk up some now. I hope the funk has passed. I don't know what the source of it was, and I wouldn't want to talk about it anyway. I think it is the weather changing, I haven't been spending as much time outside.
All right, probably a disappointing post, but at least a post at this point.
I am so sorry for not posting anything lately. It is not that I haven't thought about it, it is more that I've just been in a sort of funk lately. My posting now is not a sign that the malaise is gone, just that my friend, the bossy one that reminds me of Peppermint Patty that I call, "sir" basically told me she is sick and tired of coming to this page and finding nothing and that I should post something soon. She went on to remind me lest I had forgotten that I had not posted anything since October 3.
She knows I've been in a cruddy mood lately, and she's been patiently waiting for my blues to pass. Her mood hasn't been all that great lately either, but that's just because since she has been driving her dad's van while her Dodge is in the shop having major repairs she's gone all stressed out career/soccer mom on me. She's doing the supermom thing and I applaud her for that. I drove to McDonalds today for lunch, I was wearing my orange pajama bottoms and a white tee-shirt, with NO BRA, I did at least put shoes on.
I was extremely frustrated that I had to sit at a few traffic lights because all I wanted to do was get home, and back to my HGTV and Fox News. After I ate I marched myself upstairs and went straight to bed. I slept with my husband's shirt snuggled against my face and was quite content until my daughter showed up and started laughing at me for cuddling with her dad's shirt. I told her I miss him and leave me alone with the shirt so I can continue my nap in peace, but she started tugging at the shirt which soon led to a wrestling match in which I exclaimed, "Why can't you just leave me alone with daddy's shirt, I just want to hold it!" Which made her laugh and tug even more until finally I got out of bed and she forgot the shirt.
Then I quietly took the shirt back to bed where I snuggled with it again and slept just a little while longer until some screaming brats outside woke me up for good. I needed to get up anyway.
I feel like I wasted the whole day, but I am starting to perk up some now. I hope the funk has passed. I don't know what the source of it was, and I wouldn't want to talk about it anyway. I think it is the weather changing, I haven't been spending as much time outside.
All right, probably a disappointing post, but at least a post at this point.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Video of Woman Repeatedly Tased
Quite Disturbing.
This is appalling. I can't believe that fat SADISTIC bastard is on paid leave. I cannot believe he was not fired immediately, and charged with assault. That fat fuck needs to be tased and kicked in the ass repeatedly so he can see what his victim experienced, and it should be by a person at least twice his size, if we can find anyone that big.
What I see too often in these types of videos is how the cops are taking extra shots at people even after they are subdued. It's like they get some perverse and sadistic enjoyment out of tasing people.
This is appalling. I can't believe that fat SADISTIC bastard is on paid leave. I cannot believe he was not fired immediately, and charged with assault. That fat fuck needs to be tased and kicked in the ass repeatedly so he can see what his victim experienced, and it should be by a person at least twice his size, if we can find anyone that big.
What I see too often in these types of videos is how the cops are taking extra shots at people even after they are subdued. It's like they get some perverse and sadistic enjoyment out of tasing people.
To Post Or Not To Post
Or Take A Nap?
And there is one more option, I could clean house, but we all know how I feel about that sort of thing. Then again, I do like a clean house even if mine never is. The kiddo went to visit relatives for a week, she has never really been away from home much, and she called me the first night, last night, bawling. She told me she missed me and she loved me, and wanted me to come get her. Of course, I can't really do that right now, so I calmly told her to get a grip, and take it one day at a time.
This may sound cruel, but I think we both needed this time apart. She is with me practically 24/7 and some days that is too much for both of us. She called me this morning and she is doing fine. She is much happier, and feeling better. I was not really worried, I knew she would be fine, and that they will take good care of her. She wanted to go, and was beyond excited when the opportunity came up. It is only for a week anyway. Anyway, she is all right now, and there is the added bonus that we both get to actually miss each other for a few days which any parent of a pre-teen knows is a good thing.
Now, I sit here with what feels like an enormous chunk of free time on my hands, and I practically don't know what to do with myself. Yesterday after she left, I thought, "So this is what it feels like not to have kids around." I felt totally free. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change having a kid for anything, but as we approach the empty nest, I couldn't help but envision a life where I am able to do pretty much whatever I want with my free time. It was sort of a selfish revelation, that some day I won't make all of my decisions based on having a child at home. It was a strange feeling, and so I went and took a two hour nap to ponder it.
When I got up, I didn't even think about dinner. I knew I could eat whatever was in the kitchen, and I would not hear any complaints about it. I ended up going to my mom's and eating a baked potato. I came home, and walked around my silent house, and didn't so much as glance at the t.v. It remained off. I blogged, and talked on the phone, and then read my book until my eyes were so heavy I couldn't stay awake another minute. I was going to clean, but then I thought, who cares? I picked up a few things, and pretty much left the rest.
I want to get the house all clean because it will be so nice to have a clean house all to myself, but I'm torn between walking around in silence, and actually doing something productive, and so I've been reading blogs all morning instead. This is great. I can deal with this for a week. I'll be glad for her to be home, but right now I just enjoying this quiet messy paradise. I should clean the house, but I will probably take a nap instead.
And there is one more option, I could clean house, but we all know how I feel about that sort of thing. Then again, I do like a clean house even if mine never is. The kiddo went to visit relatives for a week, she has never really been away from home much, and she called me the first night, last night, bawling. She told me she missed me and she loved me, and wanted me to come get her. Of course, I can't really do that right now, so I calmly told her to get a grip, and take it one day at a time.
This may sound cruel, but I think we both needed this time apart. She is with me practically 24/7 and some days that is too much for both of us. She called me this morning and she is doing fine. She is much happier, and feeling better. I was not really worried, I knew she would be fine, and that they will take good care of her. She wanted to go, and was beyond excited when the opportunity came up. It is only for a week anyway. Anyway, she is all right now, and there is the added bonus that we both get to actually miss each other for a few days which any parent of a pre-teen knows is a good thing.
Now, I sit here with what feels like an enormous chunk of free time on my hands, and I practically don't know what to do with myself. Yesterday after she left, I thought, "So this is what it feels like not to have kids around." I felt totally free. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change having a kid for anything, but as we approach the empty nest, I couldn't help but envision a life where I am able to do pretty much whatever I want with my free time. It was sort of a selfish revelation, that some day I won't make all of my decisions based on having a child at home. It was a strange feeling, and so I went and took a two hour nap to ponder it.
When I got up, I didn't even think about dinner. I knew I could eat whatever was in the kitchen, and I would not hear any complaints about it. I ended up going to my mom's and eating a baked potato. I came home, and walked around my silent house, and didn't so much as glance at the t.v. It remained off. I blogged, and talked on the phone, and then read my book until my eyes were so heavy I couldn't stay awake another minute. I was going to clean, but then I thought, who cares? I picked up a few things, and pretty much left the rest.
I want to get the house all clean because it will be so nice to have a clean house all to myself, but I'm torn between walking around in silence, and actually doing something productive, and so I've been reading blogs all morning instead. This is great. I can deal with this for a week. I'll be glad for her to be home, but right now I just enjoying this quiet messy paradise. I should clean the house, but I will probably take a nap instead.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Underwear Chewer Extraordinaire
What Is It With The Underpants?
Don't answer that. I think we all know, and we don't need to say a word about it. These things should never be spoken about, only contemplated silently. I'm a little concerned about my baby's uncanny knack to find pre-worn underwears--we won't say dirty as that is a little harsh--and drag them out into the living room. Just a side note, from here on out we will be referring to the puppy as "the baby" please allow me this eccentricity, (I think that is a word, if not it is now) and go along with this strange request, all righty? Thanks. I'm only drinking sweet tea here folks. Just tea.
Anyway, it is a little embarrassing when the whole family, including the extended family, is sitting around watching movies on the huge couch, and the baby comes barreling down the stairs with a freshly worn pair of under pants on his head. Ah hahaha it's so funny, unless it's your underwear the baby is dragging around and trying to kill by shaking them violently back and forth while he clenches them with all of his might with his tiny razor sharp baby teeth. For privacy sake we will not say exactly whose underwear were on display, but lets just say that her sister of course had to remind her of the time that she (the sister) tacked all of her underwear to the ceiling in her room while she was away at a slumber party.
Not only did she do that, but this prankster sister also stuck a gigantic maxi pad in this same innocent person's back pack hoping that it would fall out at the slumber party and embarrass the poor girl half to death. It was the age you see. This same sister laughed her butt off when the poor girl told her she found the maxi pad and was so embarrassed that she threw it behind her friend's washing machine just so the other girls would not see it, and only confessed to the friend years later when getting a period wasn't such an embarrassing fact of life, and she and the friend laughed their asses off about it later.
So, of course the sister of the person whose underwear was being dragged around shamelessly by the baby found it quite amusing because that is how she is. The husband of this person just put his hand over his mouth and tried not to laugh. He is always fussing and saying that this person leaves her undies laying around, which is completely not true, but he keeps saying it. He is only saying it because she made fun of him one time because she noticed that the cats keep dragging his boxer briefs into the cat box, along with his socks.
The baby has amassed quite a pile of various household items to include undies, stuffed animals, stray socks, leashes, and the real chew toys. His favorite by far is this monster. He likes to get the monster and kill it. It has eyes that rattle so I think it makes it seem more like the monster is fighting back. He really likes the monster, and underwear, but we don't talk about that.
Monday, October 01, 2007
The Girl Dog Assistant Blogger
She Likes To Sit At The Kitchen Table With Me.
And I let her. What kind of example am I setting here? It's too late now. She's already become accustomed to having things her way. We do at least make her get down if we are going to eat, so we are not totally trashy all right? I mean what's is so wrong about letting the dog sit at the kitchen table if she wants to? Huh? Tell me.
It sort of cracks me up because my father in law doesn't like animals all that much, and the last time he came to visit we sat down at the kitchen table, and here she comes up on the seat next to him and just sitting there. The look on his face was priceless. Really. I know he wanted to say something, but he didn't. So, I made her get down, and she went and put her paws on his legs and tried to give him kisses, which I could tell annoyed him because as I said, he is not much of an animal person. Instead of letting him dangle there, as much as I get a kick out of that, I put her outside, and of course she and the other one started barking like fools out there. Great. I can't win.
Look, my great-aunt Ducky used to say, "There is something wrong with people that don't like animals and children" and I think she was right. What is it about animals that they have this uncanny knack of picking out the one person in the room that does not like them? I mean really.
The Clock Is Ticking
These Eggs Aren't Getting Any Younger.
The puppy coming to live with us has brought out some strange feelings in me. I find myself treating the puppy like a baby, and well, he is a baby, just not of the human variety. I thought my sister was certifiable a few years ago when she told me she wanted to have a baby, and had even thought about going to a sperm bank. Not that wanting to have a baby makes one crazy, or that even going to a sperm bank does either, but that her daughter was 16 years old, and well, why start all over again, plus, I know some people wait to have children later in life, but I never really thought that was ideal for most people.
And so, upon the advice of a close and trusted confidante my sister went out and got a puppy instead. She said it completely took away her urge to have another baby. I thought she was sort of wacko at the time, especially since she got herself a boxer puppy. The puppy went on to slowly chew up an entire couch. She spent 40 hours a week working to bring home fresh chew toys, and he systematically destroyed as much furniture as possible in the process. Not exactly a win win if you ask me, but she is happy with the dog. Who am I to judge?
Well, I can somewhat understand that feeling now although I didn't need a couch eater to set me straight with my own biological time clock, but I do sort of have a strong nurturing feeling while cuddling my little poopy butt pup. He doesn't really have a poopy rear end, but I would totally put a diaper on him if he had that problem, that's how much I feel the need to take care of the baby. He is a baby, completely and totally, and something about that is so wonderful for me.
I told my husband the other day that he is the second child that I never got to have, and of course he looked at me like I was completely bonkers. I said, "You just don't understand, I just like to hold him and cuddle him, and love him because I never got to have that second baby, and now it is too late. And I'm okay with it, but one of us needs to take measures to make sure that we don't have any surprises that we weren't expecting." And then he agreed that I should do that.
I just looked at him because I knew he was yanking my chain, and I said, all right, I'll go get my tubes tied then, and he said, that he would go get his stuff done so I don't have to. I think he was dreading me showing him my c-section scar as a reminder of what I went through to have the one child we do have. It is a particularly hideous scar, not the horizontal kind, but the vertical kind which was out of date even when I had my c-section, but I guess my doctor was also out of date as well. I'm just glad I lived, I mean I did give birth in a military hospital afterall, I'm lucky to be alive even if I do bear a hideous scar. And of course my extremely compassionate Dr. said, "well, you aren't exactly the type to wear a bikini now are you?" Well, I certainly can't now even if I was, but I'm not any way, and really the scar has never bothered me all that much, except the first few years when it was very sensitive.
This puppy has confirmed a few things for us: my sister and I are kooks who think a puppy can fix the desire to have children--and we are right, I love baby talking the puppy, and my husband and I realized we don't really want any more children, and one of us is going to get fixed here real soon, and I've got a hideous scar that provides me a great deal of leverage in that decision, but I would just like to say here and now, I will do it if he decides the idea of getting snipped is too much for him. I know it is an easier procedure for men, but still, I hate the idea of him being in pain at all, but I'm sure some good drugs would be involved, so it probably won't be too bad.
The puppy coming to live with us has brought out some strange feelings in me. I find myself treating the puppy like a baby, and well, he is a baby, just not of the human variety. I thought my sister was certifiable a few years ago when she told me she wanted to have a baby, and had even thought about going to a sperm bank. Not that wanting to have a baby makes one crazy, or that even going to a sperm bank does either, but that her daughter was 16 years old, and well, why start all over again, plus, I know some people wait to have children later in life, but I never really thought that was ideal for most people.
And so, upon the advice of a close and trusted confidante my sister went out and got a puppy instead. She said it completely took away her urge to have another baby. I thought she was sort of wacko at the time, especially since she got herself a boxer puppy. The puppy went on to slowly chew up an entire couch. She spent 40 hours a week working to bring home fresh chew toys, and he systematically destroyed as much furniture as possible in the process. Not exactly a win win if you ask me, but she is happy with the dog. Who am I to judge?
Well, I can somewhat understand that feeling now although I didn't need a couch eater to set me straight with my own biological time clock, but I do sort of have a strong nurturing feeling while cuddling my little poopy butt pup. He doesn't really have a poopy rear end, but I would totally put a diaper on him if he had that problem, that's how much I feel the need to take care of the baby. He is a baby, completely and totally, and something about that is so wonderful for me.
I told my husband the other day that he is the second child that I never got to have, and of course he looked at me like I was completely bonkers. I said, "You just don't understand, I just like to hold him and cuddle him, and love him because I never got to have that second baby, and now it is too late. And I'm okay with it, but one of us needs to take measures to make sure that we don't have any surprises that we weren't expecting." And then he agreed that I should do that.
I just looked at him because I knew he was yanking my chain, and I said, all right, I'll go get my tubes tied then, and he said, that he would go get his stuff done so I don't have to. I think he was dreading me showing him my c-section scar as a reminder of what I went through to have the one child we do have. It is a particularly hideous scar, not the horizontal kind, but the vertical kind which was out of date even when I had my c-section, but I guess my doctor was also out of date as well. I'm just glad I lived, I mean I did give birth in a military hospital afterall, I'm lucky to be alive even if I do bear a hideous scar. And of course my extremely compassionate Dr. said, "well, you aren't exactly the type to wear a bikini now are you?" Well, I certainly can't now even if I was, but I'm not any way, and really the scar has never bothered me all that much, except the first few years when it was very sensitive.
This puppy has confirmed a few things for us: my sister and I are kooks who think a puppy can fix the desire to have children--and we are right, I love baby talking the puppy, and my husband and I realized we don't really want any more children, and one of us is going to get fixed here real soon, and I've got a hideous scar that provides me a great deal of leverage in that decision, but I would just like to say here and now, I will do it if he decides the idea of getting snipped is too much for him. I know it is an easier procedure for men, but still, I hate the idea of him being in pain at all, but I'm sure some good drugs would be involved, so it probably won't be too bad.
First Thing's First
Get A Load Of This.
All right, a few moments before this picture was taken, he was had completely flipped over his little "house" there and was walking around with it on him completely blind. It was hilarious watching him scuttle around with his house on his head. Adorable. Puppy Power!!!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Stuffed Peppers
Mucho Caliente.
See, I can speak some Spanish. Actually, I studied it the first time I was in college and found it a very nice language to learn, as opposed to French, which I enjoyed, but Spanish was more beautiful sounding to me. This is why no one related to me reads this blog, I can't just tell the story, I have to go on and on with side details. I can't help it. This is how I talk. I like to give the back ground first, but in this case whether I studied Spanish or not is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story as I remember it.
It is pepper season. I went to the Farmer's Market one day, walked past a bin of peppers and inhaled the most wonderful scent. I paused, "What is that wonderful smell?" I found a bag of roasted peppers with the display and held it up to my nose and breathed in the warm pepper scent. It was delightful. I thought, "I wonder how people use these peppers?" I have never cooked with them before. I know my friend makes green chili so I decided to ask her, and later she told me everything I needed to know to be make all sorts of use out of those wonderful roasted peppers. It is a new avenue in cooking I have to explore.
Now, my brother, at one of our bbq's, made stuff jalapenos. Actually, they were kind of like jalapeno poppers you might get at a restaurant. It was a very simple recipe: half the jalapenos, discard the seeds, fill with garden veggie, or chive and onion cream cheese, wrap with bacon and bake at 350 for 45 minutes to an hour, those at sea level may need adjust the cooking time on that. Anyway, just watch 'em and cook the bacon all the way. They are pretty yummy. My husband loves them.
The last time he was home he asked that we make some of these stuffed peppers, and we carted off to the store to get the 3 ingredients. There we stood in the produce section analyzing the jalapeno peppers. I grabbed a plastic bag and began grabbing and throwing the peppers in the bag. There were 4 baskets of them, so I proceeded to pick and choose the best peppers from each basket. My husband said, "Whoa, hold on a minute there, those say they are habanero peppers" I looked at the sign, and said, "No, those are jalapenos, they must just have it labelled wrong, we're fine."
As soon as we got home we began assembling the peppers. My husband began slicing and removing the innards, and I reminded him, "Don't touch your face or your eyes, or you will seriously regret it, oh, and your hands will probably burn for the rest of the day." At one point I saw him at the sink throwing water on his face, his eyes were watering, and his whole face looked distorted, his nose started running, and I said, "You touched your face didn't you?" He shook his head yes, and continued to water. It eventually calmed down for him, and we cooked our peppers.
Now, we had made these things on two other occasions, and every thing was fine, but this time was different. My husband took one huge bite out of a pepper and got a very strange look on his face. "These are really hot" he said. "Uh oh, do you think we might have got the habanero peppers after all?" I wondered. "I don't know, maybe it was just a really hot one." He thought.
I decided to risk it and took a cautious bite out of one of the peppers, my mouth was immediately engulfed in flames. "Oh my gosh, fire just shot across my tongue, I think we must have grabbed the habanero peppers." We both started laughing at our mistake, and decided we would try a few more since we had gone to so much trouble to make all of these darn things. We simultaneously each stuck a whole pepper in our mouths, and chewed them up, and that is when things got really bad. We were in excruciating pain. We asked our 12 year old to drive us to the hospital, but she refused. We laughed at our foolishness and imagined the doctors in the E.R. when we came busting through the doors with our mouths bleeding, and our 12 year old parking the car.
Well, we couldn't really eat them. They were scary hot for us, and we tried to eat them, but we both kept thinking, which ones are habaneros and which one are jalapenos? We just couldn't tell because we are ignorant in the way of peppers, and so I called my friend again, and she told me, "Habaneros don't look like jalapenos, they are sort of an orangish color!" Man, did I ever feel stupid. We were eating jalapenos all along, but they were particularly hot at least to our tongues. No, it is probably because when we had made them before they were not a really hot bunch maybe because they weren't in season then, it just so happens the ones we bought this time had a lot more fire in them. You can never tell with a pepper I guess.
Yesterday we bought some more jalapenos to try it again, this time they actually had habanero peppers and they looked nothing like jalapenos. You live and you learn. We will make them today.
See, I can speak some Spanish. Actually, I studied it the first time I was in college and found it a very nice language to learn, as opposed to French, which I enjoyed, but Spanish was more beautiful sounding to me. This is why no one related to me reads this blog, I can't just tell the story, I have to go on and on with side details. I can't help it. This is how I talk. I like to give the back ground first, but in this case whether I studied Spanish or not is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story as I remember it.
It is pepper season. I went to the Farmer's Market one day, walked past a bin of peppers and inhaled the most wonderful scent. I paused, "What is that wonderful smell?" I found a bag of roasted peppers with the display and held it up to my nose and breathed in the warm pepper scent. It was delightful. I thought, "I wonder how people use these peppers?" I have never cooked with them before. I know my friend makes green chili so I decided to ask her, and later she told me everything I needed to know to be make all sorts of use out of those wonderful roasted peppers. It is a new avenue in cooking I have to explore.
Now, my brother, at one of our bbq's, made stuff jalapenos. Actually, they were kind of like jalapeno poppers you might get at a restaurant. It was a very simple recipe: half the jalapenos, discard the seeds, fill with garden veggie, or chive and onion cream cheese, wrap with bacon and bake at 350 for 45 minutes to an hour, those at sea level may need adjust the cooking time on that. Anyway, just watch 'em and cook the bacon all the way. They are pretty yummy. My husband loves them.
The last time he was home he asked that we make some of these stuffed peppers, and we carted off to the store to get the 3 ingredients. There we stood in the produce section analyzing the jalapeno peppers. I grabbed a plastic bag and began grabbing and throwing the peppers in the bag. There were 4 baskets of them, so I proceeded to pick and choose the best peppers from each basket. My husband said, "Whoa, hold on a minute there, those say they are habanero peppers" I looked at the sign, and said, "No, those are jalapenos, they must just have it labelled wrong, we're fine."
As soon as we got home we began assembling the peppers. My husband began slicing and removing the innards, and I reminded him, "Don't touch your face or your eyes, or you will seriously regret it, oh, and your hands will probably burn for the rest of the day." At one point I saw him at the sink throwing water on his face, his eyes were watering, and his whole face looked distorted, his nose started running, and I said, "You touched your face didn't you?" He shook his head yes, and continued to water. It eventually calmed down for him, and we cooked our peppers.
Now, we had made these things on two other occasions, and every thing was fine, but this time was different. My husband took one huge bite out of a pepper and got a very strange look on his face. "These are really hot" he said. "Uh oh, do you think we might have got the habanero peppers after all?" I wondered. "I don't know, maybe it was just a really hot one." He thought.
I decided to risk it and took a cautious bite out of one of the peppers, my mouth was immediately engulfed in flames. "Oh my gosh, fire just shot across my tongue, I think we must have grabbed the habanero peppers." We both started laughing at our mistake, and decided we would try a few more since we had gone to so much trouble to make all of these darn things. We simultaneously each stuck a whole pepper in our mouths, and chewed them up, and that is when things got really bad. We were in excruciating pain. We asked our 12 year old to drive us to the hospital, but she refused. We laughed at our foolishness and imagined the doctors in the E.R. when we came busting through the doors with our mouths bleeding, and our 12 year old parking the car.
Well, we couldn't really eat them. They were scary hot for us, and we tried to eat them, but we both kept thinking, which ones are habaneros and which one are jalapenos? We just couldn't tell because we are ignorant in the way of peppers, and so I called my friend again, and she told me, "Habaneros don't look like jalapenos, they are sort of an orangish color!" Man, did I ever feel stupid. We were eating jalapenos all along, but they were particularly hot at least to our tongues. No, it is probably because when we had made them before they were not a really hot bunch maybe because they weren't in season then, it just so happens the ones we bought this time had a lot more fire in them. You can never tell with a pepper I guess.
Yesterday we bought some more jalapenos to try it again, this time they actually had habanero peppers and they looked nothing like jalapenos. You live and you learn. We will make them today.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Oh Hi
Guess I Am Supposed To Write Stuff Here?
And here too? All right. I will. A few things. Home schooling keeps me very busy. It is somewhat like having a second job, which is perfectly fine, but it comes with a tad bit of sacrifice of certain leisurely pleasures, blogging to name just one. I think it is totally worth all of it though. It is going splendidly so far, even though the kiddo sometimes wants to gaff off the work, I still see progress being made, and I believe in my ultimate heart of hearts that it was the best thing to do. In fact, I wish I had done this years ago, but we can't turn back time, so we just have to make do with what we have now.
The house has gone to the weeds. Somehow when I imagined myself homeschooling, I had this image of being able to do housework, my own school work, and give the kiddo her lessons, pretty much all at the same time. Don't fault me for thinking too big, I really thought I could do it. Then, one day I had an epiphany, I realized, I can't do all of that. I can't work, go to school, and home school, so I gave up the most obvious choice, I dropped all of the classes I had registered for before school even started. I thought, "I had my chance to go to college and I screwed it off, it is her turn for an education, not mine." With that, I knew I could not serve 3 masters, it would be just too much. Best decision I could have made if you ask me.
I want to talk about something. You know Rodney Dangerfield's routine about not getting any respect? I sometimes think I have the same problem. Lately I've been asking myself, why is it people think they have the right to question my personal choices and decisions? I mean really, if I tell you I am homeschooling my child, do you think you have the right to question that decision? Do you think you have the right to grill me about socialization, and how I am doing it, and what I am doing? I mean seriously. I have had people actually look dumbfounded that I would make such a choice. Here is a thought, I don't have to answer to you. All right?
So, I have patented an answer for the nosy busy bodies out there, who did not give a hoot about my faulty decision in the past to leave my precious child in the public education system which was a complete and utter failure for her: "Well...I gave the school system 7 years with my child, and for seven years I was told, she can't do this, and she can't do that, and one day I realized, she CAN do this, and she CAN do that, but she needs some help getting there, so I decided not to wait any more for the system to finish screwing up her education, and let her graduate from high school functionally illiterate, and so I have taken control of her education, which I should have done years ago."
And then, nine times out of ten they say, "Oh. Well, what are you doing about her socialization?" To which I kindly reply, "I'm not letting her go to school every day where the other kids call her dumb and stupid." Excuse my language, but FUCK socialization. Seriously. I am so sick of hearing that. Do you have any idea what kind of crap your kids are being exposed to at school? Mind you, none of these same people ever questioned what kind of socialization my kid was getting before home schooling. They were not concerned at all about how vulnerable she was to bullying, and abuse by other children, and even school staff.
Next thing, we got a puppy. Even though I said I wouldn't, I changed my mind and got one. I do that. I'm wishy washy that way. I don't know why this is a topic of debate for anyone who doesn't live in this house, but of course, my neighbors have added their little two cents to the discussion. Well, only one neighbor, and it wasn't the bitchy fat one across the street either, it was the friendly one behind us. This one, she has always been friendly, and nice, but for some reason she thinks it is all right to flat out question my decisions. She thinks we should raise our dogs a certain way, and do certain things with them.
I see her exasperated sometimes because she is running from this trainer, to that trainer with her dogs, and she and her husband foster dogs. They like dogs, but they live in a different situation than we do. She can leave her dogs out in the back yard any time she likes, and since they are not directly facing the street there, they don't bark at every leaf that blows across the street,but they do bark, it is just people can't see them bark. Mine don't bark at every leaf blowing, but they do bark at every pedestrian that passes by our fence. She knows we have this problem with our dogs. She sees us out there with them all the time hushing, and shooing them for barking at the fence.
So she says, "Oh you got a puppy, what does your husband think about that? You had to go get a little yipper huh?" I'm not kidding you. That is what she said. My husband came home, and he was less than happy that I got the puppy. I was a bit surprised at that since he had just said a week or two before that when our daughter was asking for a puppy that maybe we should just get one. Anyway, I said, "Well honey, no matter how you feel about my decision, if the neighbor asks you what you think of the puppy, just tell her you love it. I don't want her having the satisfaction of thinking you don't like it, she will gloat over it."
We were going to grill out that day, and so my husband went to set up the grill, and the first thing she asked him, with a smirk I might add, "So, what do you think of the new puppy?" He said, and this is why I love him so much, he won't let anyone else gloat on me, "Oh, I love it, he's great." Well, he came in the house, and said, "Man, you are good, you've got her pegged." When he said that, I knew exactly what had happened. I told him, "thank you honey, I always know you have my back, even if you are not particularly happy with me about it, she doesn't need to know that."
I shouldn't have got the puppy without a definite okay from him. I know that, he knows that. I generally don't do stuff like that. It really was an impulse decision. I am used to making decisions without him around, but I usually try to check out what he is thinking on something before I do something big. He generally trusts my judgment but if I do something he disagrees with, he can be a bear about it of course, but he usually forgives it.
Anyway, I've been running into this problem with people a lot lately, which means, maybe I should check myself. I am pretty good at pushing my own opinions around as well, I have been wondering how many times I've come across with other people this way. How many times have I overstepped the bounds of a conversation and poked my nose where it didn't belong? Knowing myself means, probably too many times. Well, I don't like it when people do it to me, so I am going to really concentrate on not acting this way myself.
Last night we cleaned the kiddo's room. OH MY GOSH! What a horrible pig stye. I guess I haven't actually opened her closet door in a while because when I did I wanted to cry. Everything under the sun, except what was supposed to be, was stuffed in there. Well, two hours later, we had moved the furniture around, and completely cleaned that room. We got rid of a bunch of stuff, including the big toy box, which is going to be given away. She put her new bedding on the bed, and we plan to get new curtains, and some posters. We are going to make it more of a big kid's room, and really cool.
As for the rest of the house, it is not going to clean itself, unfortunately, that technology hasn't been invented yet, so I better get a move on. Which reminds me, I totally wanted to live in a house like the Jetsons when I was a kid. I had amazing foresight as a child I guess. Be back soon. Hugs.
And here too? All right. I will. A few things. Home schooling keeps me very busy. It is somewhat like having a second job, which is perfectly fine, but it comes with a tad bit of sacrifice of certain leisurely pleasures, blogging to name just one. I think it is totally worth all of it though. It is going splendidly so far, even though the kiddo sometimes wants to gaff off the work, I still see progress being made, and I believe in my ultimate heart of hearts that it was the best thing to do. In fact, I wish I had done this years ago, but we can't turn back time, so we just have to make do with what we have now.
The house has gone to the weeds. Somehow when I imagined myself homeschooling, I had this image of being able to do housework, my own school work, and give the kiddo her lessons, pretty much all at the same time. Don't fault me for thinking too big, I really thought I could do it. Then, one day I had an epiphany, I realized, I can't do all of that. I can't work, go to school, and home school, so I gave up the most obvious choice, I dropped all of the classes I had registered for before school even started. I thought, "I had my chance to go to college and I screwed it off, it is her turn for an education, not mine." With that, I knew I could not serve 3 masters, it would be just too much. Best decision I could have made if you ask me.
I want to talk about something. You know Rodney Dangerfield's routine about not getting any respect? I sometimes think I have the same problem. Lately I've been asking myself, why is it people think they have the right to question my personal choices and decisions? I mean really, if I tell you I am homeschooling my child, do you think you have the right to question that decision? Do you think you have the right to grill me about socialization, and how I am doing it, and what I am doing? I mean seriously. I have had people actually look dumbfounded that I would make such a choice. Here is a thought, I don't have to answer to you. All right?
So, I have patented an answer for the nosy busy bodies out there, who did not give a hoot about my faulty decision in the past to leave my precious child in the public education system which was a complete and utter failure for her: "Well...I gave the school system 7 years with my child, and for seven years I was told, she can't do this, and she can't do that, and one day I realized, she CAN do this, and she CAN do that, but she needs some help getting there, so I decided not to wait any more for the system to finish screwing up her education, and let her graduate from high school functionally illiterate, and so I have taken control of her education, which I should have done years ago."
And then, nine times out of ten they say, "Oh. Well, what are you doing about her socialization?" To which I kindly reply, "I'm not letting her go to school every day where the other kids call her dumb and stupid." Excuse my language, but FUCK socialization. Seriously. I am so sick of hearing that. Do you have any idea what kind of crap your kids are being exposed to at school? Mind you, none of these same people ever questioned what kind of socialization my kid was getting before home schooling. They were not concerned at all about how vulnerable she was to bullying, and abuse by other children, and even school staff.
Next thing, we got a puppy. Even though I said I wouldn't, I changed my mind and got one. I do that. I'm wishy washy that way. I don't know why this is a topic of debate for anyone who doesn't live in this house, but of course, my neighbors have added their little two cents to the discussion. Well, only one neighbor, and it wasn't the bitchy fat one across the street either, it was the friendly one behind us. This one, she has always been friendly, and nice, but for some reason she thinks it is all right to flat out question my decisions. She thinks we should raise our dogs a certain way, and do certain things with them.
I see her exasperated sometimes because she is running from this trainer, to that trainer with her dogs, and she and her husband foster dogs. They like dogs, but they live in a different situation than we do. She can leave her dogs out in the back yard any time she likes, and since they are not directly facing the street there, they don't bark at every leaf that blows across the street,but they do bark, it is just people can't see them bark. Mine don't bark at every leaf blowing, but they do bark at every pedestrian that passes by our fence. She knows we have this problem with our dogs. She sees us out there with them all the time hushing, and shooing them for barking at the fence.
So she says, "Oh you got a puppy, what does your husband think about that? You had to go get a little yipper huh?" I'm not kidding you. That is what she said. My husband came home, and he was less than happy that I got the puppy. I was a bit surprised at that since he had just said a week or two before that when our daughter was asking for a puppy that maybe we should just get one. Anyway, I said, "Well honey, no matter how you feel about my decision, if the neighbor asks you what you think of the puppy, just tell her you love it. I don't want her having the satisfaction of thinking you don't like it, she will gloat over it."
We were going to grill out that day, and so my husband went to set up the grill, and the first thing she asked him, with a smirk I might add, "So, what do you think of the new puppy?" He said, and this is why I love him so much, he won't let anyone else gloat on me, "Oh, I love it, he's great." Well, he came in the house, and said, "Man, you are good, you've got her pegged." When he said that, I knew exactly what had happened. I told him, "thank you honey, I always know you have my back, even if you are not particularly happy with me about it, she doesn't need to know that."
I shouldn't have got the puppy without a definite okay from him. I know that, he knows that. I generally don't do stuff like that. It really was an impulse decision. I am used to making decisions without him around, but I usually try to check out what he is thinking on something before I do something big. He generally trusts my judgment but if I do something he disagrees with, he can be a bear about it of course, but he usually forgives it.
Anyway, I've been running into this problem with people a lot lately, which means, maybe I should check myself. I am pretty good at pushing my own opinions around as well, I have been wondering how many times I've come across with other people this way. How many times have I overstepped the bounds of a conversation and poked my nose where it didn't belong? Knowing myself means, probably too many times. Well, I don't like it when people do it to me, so I am going to really concentrate on not acting this way myself.
Last night we cleaned the kiddo's room. OH MY GOSH! What a horrible pig stye. I guess I haven't actually opened her closet door in a while because when I did I wanted to cry. Everything under the sun, except what was supposed to be, was stuffed in there. Well, two hours later, we had moved the furniture around, and completely cleaned that room. We got rid of a bunch of stuff, including the big toy box, which is going to be given away. She put her new bedding on the bed, and we plan to get new curtains, and some posters. We are going to make it more of a big kid's room, and really cool.
As for the rest of the house, it is not going to clean itself, unfortunately, that technology hasn't been invented yet, so I better get a move on. Which reminds me, I totally wanted to live in a house like the Jetsons when I was a kid. I had amazing foresight as a child I guess. Be back soon. Hugs.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
My Neighbor Might Have Found My Blog
Or Cuckoo For Coco Puffs.
Someone doing a search on ''barking dogs property value" showed up. She left the following comment on this post:
"Morrigan is so right - dogs belong in the country where they can run. Keeping a dog on a city or suburban lot is cruel and just plain selfish. Have you ever seen your dog run at truly full speed? I am not talking about scampering around the yard. They need about a football-field-size space to adequately exercise. Taking them on a leash when you're jogging is woefully inadequate - it's only one step above shackles and chains. (End of soapbox rant.)"--Angela
Firstly, she quite misinterpreted Morrigan's comment. I also took this Angela person's comment as a sort of cheap pot shot at me, and pretty much anyone who has dogs that doesn't live in the country. Apparently, I am cruel and just plain selfish because my poor lazy dogs don't have the opportunity to run free in the country. Let me clear up one thing first, I don't JOG, all right. Suggesting that I take my dogs on a leash while I jog is just passive aggressive. Angela is probably some skinny celery eating SUBARU driver.
Why yes I have seen my dog run at full speed, WHEN I took them to the "football-field-sized-space" a block from my house. Amazing huh? Who woulda thunk us city folkses had big ole lumps o' dert big enuff fer our critters to run out in the open huh?
Oh Angela, thank you for the rant, and the lecture. I'm sure all of the hundreds of millions of dog owners that don't live in the country thank you as well. We appreciate Subaru drivers who can point out our faults and set us straight. We're just selfish city dwellers after all.
I am sure you make a great neighbor by the way. I've got some really good ones like you too. What would the world be without people like you? I'm sure dogs would be a lot happier if we just opened up the doors and said, "Go Be Free, Stretch Your Legs Dog, No More Bondage For You Slaves to Beggin' Strips, No More Couch Sleeping!" Get out there you poor tortured creatures, throw off your collars and your shackles and run, run, run.
This reminds me of a story my dad used to tell when we were kids. He would say, "Do you know about the agreement that man made with the dogs and cats in the cave?" I would say "No, what?" And he would say, "Way back in the earliest days man made a pact with the dogs and the cats."
"The Dogs agreed to help man watch over his cave, and in exchange man agreed that he would give the dogs meat and bones. The cats agreed that they would keep the cave free of vermin, and in exchange man would give the cat meat to eat."
"And to this day, the dogs and cats and man have kept their agreement, and over time the cats and the dogs have become pets, and man their care taker, but the dogs still help guard the cave, and the cats still keep the cave free of vermin, and man still feeds the dogs and cats, it is quite a wonderful arrangement."
I always loved my dad's way of telling this so much better. I tried to tell it as close to how he did, but he did it so much better.
There, I took a negative and turned it into a positive.
Someone doing a search on ''barking dogs property value" showed up. She left the following comment on this post:
"Morrigan is so right - dogs belong in the country where they can run. Keeping a dog on a city or suburban lot is cruel and just plain selfish. Have you ever seen your dog run at truly full speed? I am not talking about scampering around the yard. They need about a football-field-size space to adequately exercise. Taking them on a leash when you're jogging is woefully inadequate - it's only one step above shackles and chains. (End of soapbox rant.)"--Angela
Firstly, she quite misinterpreted Morrigan's comment. I also took this Angela person's comment as a sort of cheap pot shot at me, and pretty much anyone who has dogs that doesn't live in the country. Apparently, I am cruel and just plain selfish because my poor lazy dogs don't have the opportunity to run free in the country. Let me clear up one thing first, I don't JOG, all right. Suggesting that I take my dogs on a leash while I jog is just passive aggressive. Angela is probably some skinny celery eating SUBARU driver.
Why yes I have seen my dog run at full speed, WHEN I took them to the "football-field-sized-space" a block from my house. Amazing huh? Who woulda thunk us city folkses had big ole lumps o' dert big enuff fer our critters to run out in the open huh?
Oh Angela, thank you for the rant, and the lecture. I'm sure all of the hundreds of millions of dog owners that don't live in the country thank you as well. We appreciate Subaru drivers who can point out our faults and set us straight. We're just selfish city dwellers after all.
I am sure you make a great neighbor by the way. I've got some really good ones like you too. What would the world be without people like you? I'm sure dogs would be a lot happier if we just opened up the doors and said, "Go Be Free, Stretch Your Legs Dog, No More Bondage For You Slaves to Beggin' Strips, No More Couch Sleeping!" Get out there you poor tortured creatures, throw off your collars and your shackles and run, run, run.
This reminds me of a story my dad used to tell when we were kids. He would say, "Do you know about the agreement that man made with the dogs and cats in the cave?" I would say "No, what?" And he would say, "Way back in the earliest days man made a pact with the dogs and the cats."
"The Dogs agreed to help man watch over his cave, and in exchange man agreed that he would give the dogs meat and bones. The cats agreed that they would keep the cave free of vermin, and in exchange man would give the cat meat to eat."
"And to this day, the dogs and cats and man have kept their agreement, and over time the cats and the dogs have become pets, and man their care taker, but the dogs still help guard the cave, and the cats still keep the cave free of vermin, and man still feeds the dogs and cats, it is quite a wonderful arrangement."
I always loved my dad's way of telling this so much better. I tried to tell it as close to how he did, but he did it so much better.
There, I took a negative and turned it into a positive.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Puppy Go Night Night
You Will Hate Me For This.
Eeee. Awww. Ittle Wittle Punkin' Pie go night night? Ahh, da wittle Punkin pie give keeses. Oh da little baby puppy is so cute and cuddly. I wuv him. I WUV heem! Look Car Car, look at the little Punkin' pie, give him kisses Car Car. Give baby brother kisses Car Car. Aww, ok Puppers go night night now.
I can't stop talking baby talk to the puppy, and it is making people hate me, but not as much as I hate myself. All right. I know I said I wasn't going to get a puppy, no way, no how, but I just couldn't resist. He was the cutest most cuddly little thing I ever did see, and I found him completely irresistible, he pulled me into his powerful vortex of fluffy cuteness and try as I might I could not get out of it, so I got him. He is a baby Pomeranian for goodness sakes, I can only think of two classes of people that can resist a baby pom pom, and they are either incarcerated, or members of a terrorist cell, and even most hardened criminals could not resist a baby pom pom, anyone else not capable of loving such a creature is not worth knowing as far as I am concerned.
Save your lectures ok. It's done. I wasn't going to say anything since I made such a big enormous stink a few posts down about how I was not going to get a puppy, but this is me. Hello, I'm flaky and wishy washy, and somewhat indecisive. I got a new puppy. We love him, and named him Pumpkin, and no my husband did not leave me, although he probably did think about it, but still, I've caught him cuddling the little guy far too often for him to deny liking the little critter. So there.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Odd Things
Underwears Advice.
I hate that people find this site on anonymous searches. I wish I could just be invisible to google. I probably shouldn't blog since that is the case. I pretty much know "who" is visiting this site, and I'm thrilled with some of the visitors who stop by, I just hate the anony search peeps. What bothers me about it is that every so often a perve ends up coming through here as a result of some strange search. Thankfully, this is very rare, but when it does happen it leaves me feeling dirty.
When I wrote the post about spanking, I almost didn't want to post it because I was afraid that it would bring some freaks out of the woodwork, and it has to some extent. Just check the ole site meter referrals thingy at the bottom of the page. That shows what is bringing some people here.
Just ignore the stalker who visits 20 times a day and views 15 pages each time. That is me. I recently commented over at Dustbury blog that at one time I thought I had a stalker because this same person kept coming by so much. It turns out it was me. I was stalking myself. I thought I had clicked the "ignore my own visits" feature, but for some reason it didn't take, and well, I'm by far the most frequent visitor to this page which does nothing more than feed my deep seated fears that I actually have no life.
Anyway, got an interesting search, someone from India wants to know, "Why cannot thong be used routinely as a underwear, bikini" ? It is an excellent question really. Why not? Well, I've covered this before, but let me briefly summarize: It is not comfortable going around with a piece of fabric wedged up in your gluteal cleft, or in layman's terms, your butt crack. It just isn't. So, before running out and buying the latest in thong bikini fashion and wasting $5.00 at the Wal-Mart store, try this simple test, grab your granny panties by the elastic waist, and pull them up, pull 'em up as far as they will go, until your cheeks are fully exposed, then walk around the house like that for 5 hours.
During this time I highly recommend performing some house hold chores like vacuuming, mopping, and pulling weeds, and if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to reach behind and pull those nagging drawers out of your crack, you are not a candidate to wear a thong routinely as underwear. It is fool proof method of finding out if you were made to wear your underwears up your butt. If you manage to pass this test, then by all means, you are one of the chosen few and you will be blessed with invisible panty lines the rest of your days. Good luck.
I hate that people find this site on anonymous searches. I wish I could just be invisible to google. I probably shouldn't blog since that is the case. I pretty much know "who" is visiting this site, and I'm thrilled with some of the visitors who stop by, I just hate the anony search peeps. What bothers me about it is that every so often a perve ends up coming through here as a result of some strange search. Thankfully, this is very rare, but when it does happen it leaves me feeling dirty.
When I wrote the post about spanking, I almost didn't want to post it because I was afraid that it would bring some freaks out of the woodwork, and it has to some extent. Just check the ole site meter referrals thingy at the bottom of the page. That shows what is bringing some people here.
Just ignore the stalker who visits 20 times a day and views 15 pages each time. That is me. I recently commented over at Dustbury blog that at one time I thought I had a stalker because this same person kept coming by so much. It turns out it was me. I was stalking myself. I thought I had clicked the "ignore my own visits" feature, but for some reason it didn't take, and well, I'm by far the most frequent visitor to this page which does nothing more than feed my deep seated fears that I actually have no life.
Anyway, got an interesting search, someone from India wants to know, "Why cannot thong be used routinely as a underwear, bikini" ? It is an excellent question really. Why not? Well, I've covered this before, but let me briefly summarize: It is not comfortable going around with a piece of fabric wedged up in your gluteal cleft, or in layman's terms, your butt crack. It just isn't. So, before running out and buying the latest in thong bikini fashion and wasting $5.00 at the Wal-Mart store, try this simple test, grab your granny panties by the elastic waist, and pull them up, pull 'em up as far as they will go, until your cheeks are fully exposed, then walk around the house like that for 5 hours.
During this time I highly recommend performing some house hold chores like vacuuming, mopping, and pulling weeds, and if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to reach behind and pull those nagging drawers out of your crack, you are not a candidate to wear a thong routinely as underwear. It is fool proof method of finding out if you were made to wear your underwears up your butt. If you manage to pass this test, then by all means, you are one of the chosen few and you will be blessed with invisible panty lines the rest of your days. Good luck.
I Got Embarrassed
About My Filthy Mouth.
It is one thing to rattle off dirty words while driving during rush hour, it is an entirely different thing to see it all in print. I decided to remove a couple of posts. If you missed it, don't worry, it was no big deal, just a bunch of ranting and raving and cussing. If you saw it, well, I'm sorry, sometimes I do run off at the mouth. I just don't want to look back a year from now and see a written record of my transgressions.
Yeah, I'm flaky, and extremely wishy washy. These are not my better traits, but I don't want to be a vortex of negativity here, so I won't continue to list my faults. I will be even more considerate and not list my great attributes either. Blogging is narcissistic enough as it is, that sure is a hard word to spell, without tooting one's own horn every chance you get.
All righty, it seems there will be an outage tonight at 11:00PM PDT, I don't know what PDT stands for other than Pacific D Time, it is the D part I'm having trouble with. And I can't remember if Pacific is an hour or two hours behind where I am. Boy, I'm really showing off my smarts here. One in five U.S. Americans doesn't know what time it actually is where they live, and to add insult to injury, they can't find the U.S. on a map. Personally, I blame Communism.
Have a wonderful day, or night, or whatever time it is where ever you are.
It is one thing to rattle off dirty words while driving during rush hour, it is an entirely different thing to see it all in print. I decided to remove a couple of posts. If you missed it, don't worry, it was no big deal, just a bunch of ranting and raving and cussing. If you saw it, well, I'm sorry, sometimes I do run off at the mouth. I just don't want to look back a year from now and see a written record of my transgressions.
Yeah, I'm flaky, and extremely wishy washy. These are not my better traits, but I don't want to be a vortex of negativity here, so I won't continue to list my faults. I will be even more considerate and not list my great attributes either. Blogging is narcissistic enough as it is, that sure is a hard word to spell, without tooting one's own horn every chance you get.
All righty, it seems there will be an outage tonight at 11:00PM PDT, I don't know what PDT stands for other than Pacific D Time, it is the D part I'm having trouble with. And I can't remember if Pacific is an hour or two hours behind where I am. Boy, I'm really showing off my smarts here. One in five U.S. Americans doesn't know what time it actually is where they live, and to add insult to injury, they can't find the U.S. on a map. Personally, I blame Communism.
Have a wonderful day, or night, or whatever time it is where ever you are.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
One Day
Day One.
Whew. We successfully completed day one of home schooling. What a relief. I can say this now, I have been nearly having anxiety attacks about this thing. I know that sounds completely dramatic to say it that way, but I have really been nervous about it. What can I say? I just don't want to screw this up. Anyway, I think we both have had an enormous confidence boost by our success today.
I'm not going to say it was easy because it wasn't, but we made it, and I only started to yell once. My friend who home schooled her kids told me "no matter what, don't yell at her." I understand her logic on that, and want to keep this really positive. I think she pretty much hates it so far, but I caught her being interested a couple of times. I watched her completely shut down and tune me out a couple of times as well, it was hard to pull her back in. Well we are both new to this so I guess we will go through some rough patches until we get a good rhythm going.
Honestly, I was having trouble figuring out what exactly I was supposed to do with all the books and stuff I ordered, some subjects did not come with workbooks, but are covered online. There is an online portion with the curriculum, and it was a little confusing as to how it all fit together, hence, starting a day later than we planned. Long story short, we dove in head first today, and finally figured things out. Man, I can't imagine doing this without some sort of plan to follow. That is going to help immensely.
We worked for 6 hours with a few breaks thrown in here and there. It took us a bit longer I think because we had to go through all of the supplies to get this and that item we needed, now we sort of have a better feel for what goes with what. I think we are going to do just fine, and I can say with confidence that my child is now one of the U.S. Americans that can find the U.S. on a map. That's pretty cool. She liked the geography stuff.
So, that was day one. Just one day. I think we are going to be all right.
Whew. We successfully completed day one of home schooling. What a relief. I can say this now, I have been nearly having anxiety attacks about this thing. I know that sounds completely dramatic to say it that way, but I have really been nervous about it. What can I say? I just don't want to screw this up. Anyway, I think we both have had an enormous confidence boost by our success today.
I'm not going to say it was easy because it wasn't, but we made it, and I only started to yell once. My friend who home schooled her kids told me "no matter what, don't yell at her." I understand her logic on that, and want to keep this really positive. I think she pretty much hates it so far, but I caught her being interested a couple of times. I watched her completely shut down and tune me out a couple of times as well, it was hard to pull her back in. Well we are both new to this so I guess we will go through some rough patches until we get a good rhythm going.
Honestly, I was having trouble figuring out what exactly I was supposed to do with all the books and stuff I ordered, some subjects did not come with workbooks, but are covered online. There is an online portion with the curriculum, and it was a little confusing as to how it all fit together, hence, starting a day later than we planned. Long story short, we dove in head first today, and finally figured things out. Man, I can't imagine doing this without some sort of plan to follow. That is going to help immensely.
We worked for 6 hours with a few breaks thrown in here and there. It took us a bit longer I think because we had to go through all of the supplies to get this and that item we needed, now we sort of have a better feel for what goes with what. I think we are going to do just fine, and I can say with confidence that my child is now one of the U.S. Americans that can find the U.S. on a map. That's pretty cool. She liked the geography stuff.
So, that was day one. Just one day. I think we are going to be all right.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Oh My Look At The Time
It's September Already.
I love fall, but I also love summer, and honestly, I'm not ready for it to be over yet. Maybe when the trees start turning I will feel better about it, but right now it is just sort of depressing. I guess there is nothing left to do but look forward to it. Maybe I will get some good pictures of the trees this year that might make me feel better. I see some trees are starting to give a hint that they will start turning soon.
At least cooler weather will be nice, it is still quite warm around here.
I love fall, but I also love summer, and honestly, I'm not ready for it to be over yet. Maybe when the trees start turning I will feel better about it, but right now it is just sort of depressing. I guess there is nothing left to do but look forward to it. Maybe I will get some good pictures of the trees this year that might make me feel better. I see some trees are starting to give a hint that they will start turning soon.
At least cooler weather will be nice, it is still quite warm around here.
Are You Thankful Enough?
I Need Work In That Area.
As my husband was preparing to go to work, I whined, "Aww, I wish you didn't have to go, this sucks." He said, "I know." And almost immediately I ate my words. "Gosh, listen to me honey, I have nothing to complain about, we have more time together than anyone we know, and still I have the nerve to whine, I should be more thankful for what I have." He agreed, and we laughed about it.
The thing is, we do have it pretty darn good. He works two weeks a month, and I work 3 days a week, and the rest of the time we have each other. There is absolutely nothing to complain about. I know I should be so thankful for what I have, and I truly am. We have come a long long way. Back in 2004 after he left the military, we claimed just a little over 10 thousand dollars as our income that year. Just 10 thousand dollars for a whole year, and yet, we were happy. We were driving really old cars, and renting out his father's house, but we were all right.
We did have the foresight to realize that we could not go on like that forever, that old cars break down and we were one financial crisis away from completely going down the tubes. We were looking for jobs, and he took a job at a factory nearby putting little bitty ball bearings in pad locks. He worked long hours and made squat for money, but he did it. I applied for job after job, and for the first time in my life had difficulty finding employment. Then he got a job at a hospital as the laundry supervisor. The man who hired him was particularly interested in his background in the Marine Corps, we later realized that what the man wanted was a drill sergeant to whip that slovenly crew into shape.
My husband did his best, but had never worked in the "civilian" world, and soon found that people did not respond to Marine Corps leadership tactics. That people did not just follow orders, and did not accept being yelled at. It was a learning experience for him. He applied for a different position, one that did not involve managing people who refused to be managed, and he seemed much more happy. He had a little desk job, we had health insurance, and all seemed well with the world. The desk job didn't pay much, but it was steady, and decent employment.
I was still struggling to find employment, and eventually got a job at a grocery store at the customer service desk. It paid 7.00/hour, and sucked. This was the time that I made the revelation that grocery store customers are the rudest customers in all land. I had worked fast food as a youngster, and even there was treated more politely than at the customer "service" desk. Perhaps people were less inclined to mouth off to someone fixing their food than someone behind a desk, or maybe in the almost 20 years since I worked in that type of job people had just become total assholes. I can't say which is for sure.
It was working at the customer service desk that I realized that being called a stupid idiot by senior citizens wearing too much rouge was just not my bag, and so I started imagining myself working elsewhere. I had no idea that so many drunk people frequented the customer service desk, but it was there that I discovered that people will return a half eaten loaf of moldy bread, and expect a refund, which they will then take to the nearest liquor store and buy the biggest bottle of Night Train they can get their hands on. Well, we sold the cigarettes, and drunks like cigarettes, and lottos too for that matter.
Oh the lotto players. I still get in line behind them at the 7-11 and want to shoot myself. What a process. These people are hard core, and they are always out in droves on Sunday mornings when I am trying to get to work. What possesses people to get up so early just to exchange their losing scratch tickets is beyond me, but I have seen a pattern. I always feel for the clerks because the lottery ticket people used to drive me nuts. They come in with handfuls of the things, and it can get really confusing.
The day that the old lady stood there and asked me if I was some sort of idiot or something, and my boss stood right next to me and said nothing was the day that I knew I was not humble enough to work there. Luckily there was another plan for me, and an old friend helped me get back to a place that I had loved working before, and after a fairly simple process of jumping through hoops and giving a lock of my dead grandmother's hair, I was hired on some where much nicer where the customers have some manners. I have been there ever since.
I have never so much as set foot in the grocery store I worked at, no matter what they have on sale, and I probably never will. It was not just the customers who were beyond rude, but the management at that store was particularly hateful. I just have no desire to shop there now.
Well, I had the good job, hubby had a good job, and we were doing fine, but really my husband was underemployed, and we knew he could do better. We didn't know how, or what, but we knew he could find a better job. He says he was quite content and that I told him to look for a better job, and that is the truth of the matter. I knew that I had a decent income that could carry us in the interim, and when my dad mentioned that the oil and gas industry was looking for a few good men, my husband looked into it, and being the go getter that he is, he landed himself a job on a rig, and started making 3 times the amount of money he was making sitting at the desk.
And here we are. We've got every reason to be thankful. We both work very hard in physical jobs, but we are happy. I wanted to go to school, but that is not happening right now, and I can live with that for the time being. I may never go back to school, I just don't know. I just know that right now I have to give my daughter that chance. I had my chance when I was younger, I made my choices, and have to live with them.
My dad always says, "People make a series of choices that get them to the place they are." I think he is right. We made a series of choices, but we also took calculated risks as well, and in our case that worked out for the better. We both agree that God had a hand in the whole thing, and that he knows where he wants us to be. We could not have planned this better. Now, we are in a position to homeschool our daughter, and that is something we never planned for, but we are able to do. It is funny how things work out sometimes.
We know from experience things can change at any time. We know we must remain flexible, and be able to make it through the hard times. I think at times we both wonder when the other shoe is going to drop, but we're trying to enjoy things while we can. We sure do have a lot to be thankful for.
As my husband was preparing to go to work, I whined, "Aww, I wish you didn't have to go, this sucks." He said, "I know." And almost immediately I ate my words. "Gosh, listen to me honey, I have nothing to complain about, we have more time together than anyone we know, and still I have the nerve to whine, I should be more thankful for what I have." He agreed, and we laughed about it.
The thing is, we do have it pretty darn good. He works two weeks a month, and I work 3 days a week, and the rest of the time we have each other. There is absolutely nothing to complain about. I know I should be so thankful for what I have, and I truly am. We have come a long long way. Back in 2004 after he left the military, we claimed just a little over 10 thousand dollars as our income that year. Just 10 thousand dollars for a whole year, and yet, we were happy. We were driving really old cars, and renting out his father's house, but we were all right.
We did have the foresight to realize that we could not go on like that forever, that old cars break down and we were one financial crisis away from completely going down the tubes. We were looking for jobs, and he took a job at a factory nearby putting little bitty ball bearings in pad locks. He worked long hours and made squat for money, but he did it. I applied for job after job, and for the first time in my life had difficulty finding employment. Then he got a job at a hospital as the laundry supervisor. The man who hired him was particularly interested in his background in the Marine Corps, we later realized that what the man wanted was a drill sergeant to whip that slovenly crew into shape.
My husband did his best, but had never worked in the "civilian" world, and soon found that people did not respond to Marine Corps leadership tactics. That people did not just follow orders, and did not accept being yelled at. It was a learning experience for him. He applied for a different position, one that did not involve managing people who refused to be managed, and he seemed much more happy. He had a little desk job, we had health insurance, and all seemed well with the world. The desk job didn't pay much, but it was steady, and decent employment.
I was still struggling to find employment, and eventually got a job at a grocery store at the customer service desk. It paid 7.00/hour, and sucked. This was the time that I made the revelation that grocery store customers are the rudest customers in all land. I had worked fast food as a youngster, and even there was treated more politely than at the customer "service" desk. Perhaps people were less inclined to mouth off to someone fixing their food than someone behind a desk, or maybe in the almost 20 years since I worked in that type of job people had just become total assholes. I can't say which is for sure.
It was working at the customer service desk that I realized that being called a stupid idiot by senior citizens wearing too much rouge was just not my bag, and so I started imagining myself working elsewhere. I had no idea that so many drunk people frequented the customer service desk, but it was there that I discovered that people will return a half eaten loaf of moldy bread, and expect a refund, which they will then take to the nearest liquor store and buy the biggest bottle of Night Train they can get their hands on. Well, we sold the cigarettes, and drunks like cigarettes, and lottos too for that matter.
Oh the lotto players. I still get in line behind them at the 7-11 and want to shoot myself. What a process. These people are hard core, and they are always out in droves on Sunday mornings when I am trying to get to work. What possesses people to get up so early just to exchange their losing scratch tickets is beyond me, but I have seen a pattern. I always feel for the clerks because the lottery ticket people used to drive me nuts. They come in with handfuls of the things, and it can get really confusing.
The day that the old lady stood there and asked me if I was some sort of idiot or something, and my boss stood right next to me and said nothing was the day that I knew I was not humble enough to work there. Luckily there was another plan for me, and an old friend helped me get back to a place that I had loved working before, and after a fairly simple process of jumping through hoops and giving a lock of my dead grandmother's hair, I was hired on some where much nicer where the customers have some manners. I have been there ever since.
I have never so much as set foot in the grocery store I worked at, no matter what they have on sale, and I probably never will. It was not just the customers who were beyond rude, but the management at that store was particularly hateful. I just have no desire to shop there now.
Well, I had the good job, hubby had a good job, and we were doing fine, but really my husband was underemployed, and we knew he could do better. We didn't know how, or what, but we knew he could find a better job. He says he was quite content and that I told him to look for a better job, and that is the truth of the matter. I knew that I had a decent income that could carry us in the interim, and when my dad mentioned that the oil and gas industry was looking for a few good men, my husband looked into it, and being the go getter that he is, he landed himself a job on a rig, and started making 3 times the amount of money he was making sitting at the desk.
And here we are. We've got every reason to be thankful. We both work very hard in physical jobs, but we are happy. I wanted to go to school, but that is not happening right now, and I can live with that for the time being. I may never go back to school, I just don't know. I just know that right now I have to give my daughter that chance. I had my chance when I was younger, I made my choices, and have to live with them.
My dad always says, "People make a series of choices that get them to the place they are." I think he is right. We made a series of choices, but we also took calculated risks as well, and in our case that worked out for the better. We both agree that God had a hand in the whole thing, and that he knows where he wants us to be. We could not have planned this better. Now, we are in a position to homeschool our daughter, and that is something we never planned for, but we are able to do. It is funny how things work out sometimes.
We know from experience things can change at any time. We know we must remain flexible, and be able to make it through the hard times. I think at times we both wonder when the other shoe is going to drop, but we're trying to enjoy things while we can. We sure do have a lot to be thankful for.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Phone Call
Sister.
My sister called me this morning. "I read your blog."
"Oh yeah, did you read the post about spanking kids?"
"Yeah, it was good."
"It was pretty long."
"Yes, I thought, oh geez, just shut up and spank your kid already."
Haha
"I can't believe you read my blog, you never read it."
"Well, I had to check in and make sure you weren't talking about me."
"Oh well, you better check the archives then--haha, just kidding"
"I really liked the post about Puppy, that was funny."
"Yes, just because you remember it, what are you doing? Do you want to come hang out?"
"No, I'm going to take a nap."
"All right...talk to you later."
My sister called me this morning. "I read your blog."
"Oh yeah, did you read the post about spanking kids?"
"Yeah, it was good."
"It was pretty long."
"Yes, I thought, oh geez, just shut up and spank your kid already."
Haha
"I can't believe you read my blog, you never read it."
"Well, I had to check in and make sure you weren't talking about me."
"Oh well, you better check the archives then--haha, just kidding"
"I really liked the post about Puppy, that was funny."
"Yes, just because you remember it, what are you doing? Do you want to come hang out?"
"No, I'm going to take a nap."
"All right...talk to you later."
Saturday, August 25, 2007
The Girl Wants A Puppy
It Is Not Going To Happen.
When my brother was 2 years old he decided to chuck humanity and become a puppy. For about a year he insisted "call me Puppy!" Whenever we said his name, he immediately corrected us. We started calling him "Puppy". I think we all just didn't want the argument. He took his puppy thing to a whole new level, and even acted like a puppy. This was also what we could call his nudist phase. We had to get puppy to actually put on some clothes for pictures on Christmas morning.
He was naked so much we just got used to it. What can I say? He was home, and he was safe. My daughter went through a similar phase, but it was for a much shorter period of time. Whenever we were home off went the clothes. Unfortunately for my brother, my sister and I were so much older than him, so we have much better memories of his puppy phase, and so do all of our friends. I'm sure to an outsider this whole thing must have seemed strange. The only thing we could get him to wear most of the time was an actual dog collar. Well, actually, he insisted on wearing the dog collar, we would have preferred that he not.
This was the same year that he really wanted a basket for his bicycle. My mom searched high and low for that damn basket, and the only one she could find was a white one with plastic flowers on the front of it. AND she bought it for him. He loved the thing. I think there is a picture somewhere of the bicycle with the gay basket on it, but that is for another post really.
I don't remember when he stopped being Puppy. I was a kid too so it is difficult for me to put a timeline on it. I do know that the paper boy was in the same class with my sister in high school, and he actually wrote in her yearbook, "I enjoyed delivering the paper to you and your naked little brother all of those years." Puppy lives on in infamy. I think the worst part was when Puppy went outside on the deck when we sitting down to dinner and proceeded to go potty just they way any ordinary puppy would do. We were all pretty much mortified, and puppy got scolded for that one.
Somehow my parents managed to get that boy through his phase, and luckily he has very little memory of it at all, in fact, I don't think he remembers any of it, and he gets fairly annoyed whenever the subject is brought up. I don't blame him for that. We usually don't mention the puppy thing unless we are all in a really wacky mood.
None of this really has anything to do with the fact that my mother in law's best friend's dog just had puppies and my daughter wants one really super duper really really bad. Of course, I have no inclination to bring another animal into this house under any circumstance, unless I decide I want my husband to leave me which is not bloody likely at all because I adore him, and he treats me like a spoiled rotten princess. Well daughter thinks if she really really begs for this thing we will break down and get it for her, but we will not because we don't want anymore animals, we've got our hands full with the 2 dogs, 3 cats, and chinchilla that we have already.
Kids don't always think about the practicality of these things. They just see cute, want cute, must have cute. I feel for her. I understand this thing. See it, hold it, love it, want it, but there comes a time when the answer is just flat out "no", and she is not liking that answer. We can't just collect animals. She doesn't understand this, or refuses too. I've been there. I brought home a couple of animals and begged and pleaded, and I learned that if I could get dad to take a liking to the thing it was in. Worked every time like a charm. We all knew this.
I don't know why she refuses to believe that this puppy will one day just be another average dog, but she seems to think it will be a cute little puppy forever. I have half a mind to opt out and let daddy handle this one. He will say no, and that will be the end of the subject. Period. He is the ying to my yang if there ever was one, and I wish he was home because I miss my love when he is not here.
I love animals too, but I refuse to live in a zoo. I can't take one more pet. I can't give them all of the attention they crave. My cat sits here right now, he climbs on my shoulder I pet him for a few minutes then put him down, he comes right back. He's playing havoc on the keyboard as I type this. I will take the whole horde to bed soon, and everyone will get their cuddling and petting and all will be well. The dogs patiently wait and pass gas under the desk, but they will jump right up and follow me as soon as I get up.
The lesson my daughter needs to learn is to be committed to the pets she has. Oh I know she could love another, but we've given these guys a home, and they want their own attention. We just don't have room for another. Sheesh, the dog she wants is a little yipper anyway, my neighbors would have a fit.
So, no on the puppy, and that IS final, it might take her a while to believe it, but she will get it eventually. I better go to bed. Good Night.
When my brother was 2 years old he decided to chuck humanity and become a puppy. For about a year he insisted "call me Puppy!" Whenever we said his name, he immediately corrected us. We started calling him "Puppy". I think we all just didn't want the argument. He took his puppy thing to a whole new level, and even acted like a puppy. This was also what we could call his nudist phase. We had to get puppy to actually put on some clothes for pictures on Christmas morning.
He was naked so much we just got used to it. What can I say? He was home, and he was safe. My daughter went through a similar phase, but it was for a much shorter period of time. Whenever we were home off went the clothes. Unfortunately for my brother, my sister and I were so much older than him, so we have much better memories of his puppy phase, and so do all of our friends. I'm sure to an outsider this whole thing must have seemed strange. The only thing we could get him to wear most of the time was an actual dog collar. Well, actually, he insisted on wearing the dog collar, we would have preferred that he not.
This was the same year that he really wanted a basket for his bicycle. My mom searched high and low for that damn basket, and the only one she could find was a white one with plastic flowers on the front of it. AND she bought it for him. He loved the thing. I think there is a picture somewhere of the bicycle with the gay basket on it, but that is for another post really.
I don't remember when he stopped being Puppy. I was a kid too so it is difficult for me to put a timeline on it. I do know that the paper boy was in the same class with my sister in high school, and he actually wrote in her yearbook, "I enjoyed delivering the paper to you and your naked little brother all of those years." Puppy lives on in infamy. I think the worst part was when Puppy went outside on the deck when we sitting down to dinner and proceeded to go potty just they way any ordinary puppy would do. We were all pretty much mortified, and puppy got scolded for that one.
Somehow my parents managed to get that boy through his phase, and luckily he has very little memory of it at all, in fact, I don't think he remembers any of it, and he gets fairly annoyed whenever the subject is brought up. I don't blame him for that. We usually don't mention the puppy thing unless we are all in a really wacky mood.
None of this really has anything to do with the fact that my mother in law's best friend's dog just had puppies and my daughter wants one really super duper really really bad. Of course, I have no inclination to bring another animal into this house under any circumstance, unless I decide I want my husband to leave me which is not bloody likely at all because I adore him, and he treats me like a spoiled rotten princess. Well daughter thinks if she really really begs for this thing we will break down and get it for her, but we will not because we don't want anymore animals, we've got our hands full with the 2 dogs, 3 cats, and chinchilla that we have already.
Kids don't always think about the practicality of these things. They just see cute, want cute, must have cute. I feel for her. I understand this thing. See it, hold it, love it, want it, but there comes a time when the answer is just flat out "no", and she is not liking that answer. We can't just collect animals. She doesn't understand this, or refuses too. I've been there. I brought home a couple of animals and begged and pleaded, and I learned that if I could get dad to take a liking to the thing it was in. Worked every time like a charm. We all knew this.
I don't know why she refuses to believe that this puppy will one day just be another average dog, but she seems to think it will be a cute little puppy forever. I have half a mind to opt out and let daddy handle this one. He will say no, and that will be the end of the subject. Period. He is the ying to my yang if there ever was one, and I wish he was home because I miss my love when he is not here.
I love animals too, but I refuse to live in a zoo. I can't take one more pet. I can't give them all of the attention they crave. My cat sits here right now, he climbs on my shoulder I pet him for a few minutes then put him down, he comes right back. He's playing havoc on the keyboard as I type this. I will take the whole horde to bed soon, and everyone will get their cuddling and petting and all will be well. The dogs patiently wait and pass gas under the desk, but they will jump right up and follow me as soon as I get up.
The lesson my daughter needs to learn is to be committed to the pets she has. Oh I know she could love another, but we've given these guys a home, and they want their own attention. We just don't have room for another. Sheesh, the dog she wants is a little yipper anyway, my neighbors would have a fit.
So, no on the puppy, and that IS final, it might take her a while to believe it, but she will get it eventually. I better go to bed. Good Night.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
There Comes A Time When...
We Must Embarrass Our Children.
My daughter is not embarrassed of me yet, but I will never forget the day my dad became embarrassing. I was about 13 years old, and I was walking home from school with my friends. We were total dorks who loved listening to "Thriller", and Madonna's "Lucky Star", and were overall spoiled brats of the 80's. Well, this one particular day, as we approached my house I noticed a very strange object sitting at the curb in front of it, and so did my friends. It was a toilet. Our toilet, and the whole neighborhood could see it sitting right there on the curb. I was suddenly overcome with embarrassment.
To make matters worse, my friends found it strangely hilarious, and were laughing and laughing, and then HE came out of the garage. My dad. He was wearing his overalls. This was in 1983 when no one wore overalls except farmers, and we lived IN the suburbs minus any farm animals. Oh and they noticed the overalls too, oh yes they did. I laughed too, but I found it such an embarrassment. I said my good byes and approached the house. I walked up to my dad and said hello, and then I whined, "DAAAADDD, did you have to put the toilet out here right now? HOW EMBARRASSING! Everyone is walking home from school and can look at our toilet" Of course he found this extremely amusing. Luckily he had a thick skin because I also informed him that his choice in clothing was very embarrassing too!
Oh boy. Did I open a can of worms. After that it was him threatening to put another toilet out with a sign on it saying it was my toilet so everyone could see. Then since the city bus went by our house every day, and sometimes my dad would ride the bus I swear just for the fun of it, he would say, "Oh, all of the bus passengers were asking if that was your toilet out there" So, I would retort, "Yeah, well, when I left for school there were some bus passengers lined up out there waiting to use the toilet" and of course he would practically fall over laughing. I think we went on like this for years. In fact, I could probably still get him to laugh really hard if I brought it up today.
I got over my silly embarrassments, but it took me a while. Now I see how childish it was, but I was a child so I guess that's normal for some kids.
My best friend since third grade has kids who are at that age where they are sometimes appalled that they are related to her. Most of the time they think she is swell, but sometimes they get embarrassed of her too. I know my time is coming, and honestly, I am kind of looking forward to it. I will have power again. Mwahahaha.
So, this morning on the phone my friend tells me how absolutely horrible it was doing the school supply shopping. She said she ended up going to 7 different stores in search of the demanded items, and she says she they ran into a lot of her daughter's classmates and their parents. She says, "my daughter got embarrassed though because I was really hot all day so I put on some socks with my sandals."
I burst out laughing. "Oh, please tell me you weren't wearing the black socks." Sometimes after work she will go home and throw on some shorts and she and her kids will come over and spend the evening at my house, and there have been a couple of times she has been wearing black socks with tennis shoes and shorts!!
One night I said to her son, "I thought she promised not to wear the black socks with the shorts again." He said, "I thought so too, but I guess not today" and we would tease her about it.
So, she says, "No, I wasn't wearing the black socks with my sandals, just some regular white ones."
"No wonder she was embarrassed, did you have on the yellow sandals with the white socks?" I asked. Yep, she did. I need to get her to send me a picture of this look so I can post it. I'm telling you it is funny.
"But my feet were so hot and tired and sweaty, I needed the socks." She explained.
"I understand" I said, and we both laughed about it. We laughed again about it tonight when she came to visit it was just funny.
Anyway, the next few years are going to be fun with the kids. Their ages right now are 12, 13, and 14 so we've got lots of good times ahead.
My daughter is not embarrassed of me yet, but I will never forget the day my dad became embarrassing. I was about 13 years old, and I was walking home from school with my friends. We were total dorks who loved listening to "Thriller", and Madonna's "Lucky Star", and were overall spoiled brats of the 80's. Well, this one particular day, as we approached my house I noticed a very strange object sitting at the curb in front of it, and so did my friends. It was a toilet. Our toilet, and the whole neighborhood could see it sitting right there on the curb. I was suddenly overcome with embarrassment.
To make matters worse, my friends found it strangely hilarious, and were laughing and laughing, and then HE came out of the garage. My dad. He was wearing his overalls. This was in 1983 when no one wore overalls except farmers, and we lived IN the suburbs minus any farm animals. Oh and they noticed the overalls too, oh yes they did. I laughed too, but I found it such an embarrassment. I said my good byes and approached the house. I walked up to my dad and said hello, and then I whined, "DAAAADDD, did you have to put the toilet out here right now? HOW EMBARRASSING! Everyone is walking home from school and can look at our toilet" Of course he found this extremely amusing. Luckily he had a thick skin because I also informed him that his choice in clothing was very embarrassing too!
Oh boy. Did I open a can of worms. After that it was him threatening to put another toilet out with a sign on it saying it was my toilet so everyone could see. Then since the city bus went by our house every day, and sometimes my dad would ride the bus I swear just for the fun of it, he would say, "Oh, all of the bus passengers were asking if that was your toilet out there" So, I would retort, "Yeah, well, when I left for school there were some bus passengers lined up out there waiting to use the toilet" and of course he would practically fall over laughing. I think we went on like this for years. In fact, I could probably still get him to laugh really hard if I brought it up today.
I got over my silly embarrassments, but it took me a while. Now I see how childish it was, but I was a child so I guess that's normal for some kids.
My best friend since third grade has kids who are at that age where they are sometimes appalled that they are related to her. Most of the time they think she is swell, but sometimes they get embarrassed of her too. I know my time is coming, and honestly, I am kind of looking forward to it. I will have power again. Mwahahaha.
So, this morning on the phone my friend tells me how absolutely horrible it was doing the school supply shopping. She said she ended up going to 7 different stores in search of the demanded items, and she says she they ran into a lot of her daughter's classmates and their parents. She says, "my daughter got embarrassed though because I was really hot all day so I put on some socks with my sandals."
I burst out laughing. "Oh, please tell me you weren't wearing the black socks." Sometimes after work she will go home and throw on some shorts and she and her kids will come over and spend the evening at my house, and there have been a couple of times she has been wearing black socks with tennis shoes and shorts!!
One night I said to her son, "I thought she promised not to wear the black socks with the shorts again." He said, "I thought so too, but I guess not today" and we would tease her about it.
So, she says, "No, I wasn't wearing the black socks with my sandals, just some regular white ones."
"No wonder she was embarrassed, did you have on the yellow sandals with the white socks?" I asked. Yep, she did. I need to get her to send me a picture of this look so I can post it. I'm telling you it is funny.
"But my feet were so hot and tired and sweaty, I needed the socks." She explained.
"I understand" I said, and we both laughed about it. We laughed again about it tonight when she came to visit it was just funny.
Anyway, the next few years are going to be fun with the kids. Their ages right now are 12, 13, and 14 so we've got lots of good times ahead.
The Crazy Side of Crazy
Indulging Neurosis.
Got up early this morning and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. I let the dogs out to do their thing, and decided to prep my coffee while they were outside. I heard the girl dog bark a couple of times, and I thought, "Oh great! The neighbors will love that." Because they just love our dogs, and their barking. I'm always conscious of each and every bark they make. I feel like I can barely let them out, and I certainly can't let them just stay out there and bark whenever they darn well feel like it.
I waited a second to see if she was going to continue to bark, and luckily for me she decided whatever it was she was barking at was not worth it and hushed up. We have been working with them on their barking, but they still do it, which is why I have them for goodness sakes. Well that, and they are really sweet babies, but I mostly wanted dogs for protection, and to ward off unwanted strangers, plus they are great companions. I don't really need to go on and on about all the reasons I wanted these dogs, but they do give me a certain peace of mind when I go to sleep at night. I like the idea that the boy dog roams the house at night, and I feel like I can sleep a little deeper knowing he will bark if anything is amiss.
Believe me, he has woke me up plenty of times when those orange cats of mine are up to no good. He has taken it as his mission in life to bark at those cats in the middle of the night, and who knows what they are up to, but I'm sure he has a good reason for it even if it does scare me half to death to wake up and wonder what he is barking about. Anyway, it gives me a sense of security knowing my two dogs are there to hear what I might not hear when I am snoring like an overstuffed pig while clutching my purple pillow. It is the best pillow, that's why I put a purple pillow case on it, it is the only one with a purple pillow case, so when I get in bed and hubby has tried to steal it, I say where is my purple pillow? And he immediately gives it up. He knows it is mine. He's a good man that way.
Of course, when my dog barked at 4:00am, I thought to myself, what would I do if my neighbors decided to really cause trouble for my dogs despite our best efforts to silence them--the dogs that is--and what if one day the authorities showed up and took my dogs away? These are the sorts of neurotic thoughts I think on 5 hours of sleep. But really, what if? What if's are so neurotic, I know, but I would guess most people indulge in what if thoughts now and then. Well, I did, and I started thinking that I would be devastated, and then the slightly vindictive side of me thought, well, I would paint a giant picture of my dogs on the side of my house.
That wasn't enough though. I imagined my neighbors having to stare at the faces of my dogs each and every day there painted on the side of my house that they love to stare at all the time. I laughed inside thinking, what would they do? Then I thought, well maybe that would be more than a little crazy thing to do, but it would make a point. I thought perhaps I could hire an artist to do a mural all along the side of my house so that every day they could look out their window and see the 10 foot tall faces of my two dogs which they hate. Then it occurred to me, I could put up a white privacy fence to run the length of the back yard, and I could have the images of my dogs running the fence and snarling at children running in sheer terror from the barking frothing at the mouth rabid dogs. I had it all pictured in my mind, it was quite amusing really, but then I realized I was entertaining some seriously crazy ideas, and decided to take my crazy a different direction.
What if I painted my entire house purple, and trimmed it with pink shutters? Then I could paint the privacy fence purple, and still have a mural on it, but it would be flowers and stuff, and I could even have rabbits and deer painted on there. I thought, big giant daisy on the side of the purple house. I imagined my husband coming home to these changes and just immediately accepting them all, and laughing alongside with me. It would be the crazy junk yard man across the street, and our insane hippy house next door, but at least our dogs wouldn't be barking right? What could anyone say? We aren't hurting them, well, I guess we would be hurting property value in a way if that is even possible in a neighborhood like this. It is not like we have covenants.
Eventually, I felt ashamed of myself for actually contemplating these things seriously. Of course my mother would be quite proud because despite her innocent pie eating ways, she is truly deep down inside a deviant. We all know this about her, and I know she would find my ideas wonderful and completely sane. My father would be totally appalled, and would shake his head and mutter, "I'm not amused" while he quietly disowned me. Good thing I married a man like my father to keep me grounded.
I even thought, fine, if I have to get rid of my dogs then I will have to buy a gun for protection. I imagined myself sitting on my front porch with a shot gun across my lap, unloaded of course, but just there for show. That would be pretty unnerving to some I suppose. I quickly discarded that idea thinking, it is better not to advertise such things. There are criminals who do break in to places to steal guns. I think the element of surprise is better in that case.
After sipping on some coffee and waking up a bit, I'm glad I'm not faced with such decisions. I will just have to continue to be vigilant with the dogs, and make sure they are not allowed to bark like maniacs, thereby keeping peace with the neighbors, and besides, I really don't want to paint my house purple even if I do really like that color. See, I'm not as crazy as I sound.
Got up early this morning and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. I let the dogs out to do their thing, and decided to prep my coffee while they were outside. I heard the girl dog bark a couple of times, and I thought, "Oh great! The neighbors will love that." Because they just love our dogs, and their barking. I'm always conscious of each and every bark they make. I feel like I can barely let them out, and I certainly can't let them just stay out there and bark whenever they darn well feel like it.
I waited a second to see if she was going to continue to bark, and luckily for me she decided whatever it was she was barking at was not worth it and hushed up. We have been working with them on their barking, but they still do it, which is why I have them for goodness sakes. Well that, and they are really sweet babies, but I mostly wanted dogs for protection, and to ward off unwanted strangers, plus they are great companions. I don't really need to go on and on about all the reasons I wanted these dogs, but they do give me a certain peace of mind when I go to sleep at night. I like the idea that the boy dog roams the house at night, and I feel like I can sleep a little deeper knowing he will bark if anything is amiss.
Believe me, he has woke me up plenty of times when those orange cats of mine are up to no good. He has taken it as his mission in life to bark at those cats in the middle of the night, and who knows what they are up to, but I'm sure he has a good reason for it even if it does scare me half to death to wake up and wonder what he is barking about. Anyway, it gives me a sense of security knowing my two dogs are there to hear what I might not hear when I am snoring like an overstuffed pig while clutching my purple pillow. It is the best pillow, that's why I put a purple pillow case on it, it is the only one with a purple pillow case, so when I get in bed and hubby has tried to steal it, I say where is my purple pillow? And he immediately gives it up. He knows it is mine. He's a good man that way.
Of course, when my dog barked at 4:00am, I thought to myself, what would I do if my neighbors decided to really cause trouble for my dogs despite our best efforts to silence them--the dogs that is--and what if one day the authorities showed up and took my dogs away? These are the sorts of neurotic thoughts I think on 5 hours of sleep. But really, what if? What if's are so neurotic, I know, but I would guess most people indulge in what if thoughts now and then. Well, I did, and I started thinking that I would be devastated, and then the slightly vindictive side of me thought, well, I would paint a giant picture of my dogs on the side of my house.
That wasn't enough though. I imagined my neighbors having to stare at the faces of my dogs each and every day there painted on the side of my house that they love to stare at all the time. I laughed inside thinking, what would they do? Then I thought, well maybe that would be more than a little crazy thing to do, but it would make a point. I thought perhaps I could hire an artist to do a mural all along the side of my house so that every day they could look out their window and see the 10 foot tall faces of my two dogs which they hate. Then it occurred to me, I could put up a white privacy fence to run the length of the back yard, and I could have the images of my dogs running the fence and snarling at children running in sheer terror from the barking frothing at the mouth rabid dogs. I had it all pictured in my mind, it was quite amusing really, but then I realized I was entertaining some seriously crazy ideas, and decided to take my crazy a different direction.
What if I painted my entire house purple, and trimmed it with pink shutters? Then I could paint the privacy fence purple, and still have a mural on it, but it would be flowers and stuff, and I could even have rabbits and deer painted on there. I thought, big giant daisy on the side of the purple house. I imagined my husband coming home to these changes and just immediately accepting them all, and laughing alongside with me. It would be the crazy junk yard man across the street, and our insane hippy house next door, but at least our dogs wouldn't be barking right? What could anyone say? We aren't hurting them, well, I guess we would be hurting property value in a way if that is even possible in a neighborhood like this. It is not like we have covenants.
Eventually, I felt ashamed of myself for actually contemplating these things seriously. Of course my mother would be quite proud because despite her innocent pie eating ways, she is truly deep down inside a deviant. We all know this about her, and I know she would find my ideas wonderful and completely sane. My father would be totally appalled, and would shake his head and mutter, "I'm not amused" while he quietly disowned me. Good thing I married a man like my father to keep me grounded.
I even thought, fine, if I have to get rid of my dogs then I will have to buy a gun for protection. I imagined myself sitting on my front porch with a shot gun across my lap, unloaded of course, but just there for show. That would be pretty unnerving to some I suppose. I quickly discarded that idea thinking, it is better not to advertise such things. There are criminals who do break in to places to steal guns. I think the element of surprise is better in that case.
After sipping on some coffee and waking up a bit, I'm glad I'm not faced with such decisions. I will just have to continue to be vigilant with the dogs, and make sure they are not allowed to bark like maniacs, thereby keeping peace with the neighbors, and besides, I really don't want to paint my house purple even if I do really like that color. See, I'm not as crazy as I sound.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Cantaloupe
Mmmm.
I got up super early this morning. There I was snoozing away, and my husband gently nudged me to wake up requesting that I go talk with him while he gets ready to go to work. How could I resist? Of course I couldn't so I got up. I cut his cantaloupe for him, and put perfect bite sized chunks in plastic containers so that he could munch on them as he travels afar.
The cantaloupe was deliciously ripe, and wonderful tasting, and why wouldn't it be? It was a Rocky Ford cantaloupe after all. This brought back so many memories for me. We always used to stop at Rocky Ford to pick up cantaloupes for my grandfather as we made our way eastward to visit, and then we would spend a few days eating the great melons, and spending time with people we rarely got to see. I can't eat one without thinking of my grandfather, or my mother for that matter. Those were good times.
Unfortunately, as I've aged I can't eat them anymore, I get a terrible stomach ache after eating any sort of melon. This goes for watermelon as well, I'm disappointed to say. Well, I did take my chance and eat one single bite of the melon I bought just for my hubby. He loves cantaloupe and CAN eat it without extreme pain being involved. Lucky guy. Oh that one bite was so delicious. Mmm. I knew better than to chance a second, it does not take much to really cause me a great deal of pain. I felt good sending it off with hubby anyway. He will munch on that thing all day today.
And another week begins...
I got up super early this morning. There I was snoozing away, and my husband gently nudged me to wake up requesting that I go talk with him while he gets ready to go to work. How could I resist? Of course I couldn't so I got up. I cut his cantaloupe for him, and put perfect bite sized chunks in plastic containers so that he could munch on them as he travels afar.
The cantaloupe was deliciously ripe, and wonderful tasting, and why wouldn't it be? It was a Rocky Ford cantaloupe after all. This brought back so many memories for me. We always used to stop at Rocky Ford to pick up cantaloupes for my grandfather as we made our way eastward to visit, and then we would spend a few days eating the great melons, and spending time with people we rarely got to see. I can't eat one without thinking of my grandfather, or my mother for that matter. Those were good times.
Unfortunately, as I've aged I can't eat them anymore, I get a terrible stomach ache after eating any sort of melon. This goes for watermelon as well, I'm disappointed to say. Well, I did take my chance and eat one single bite of the melon I bought just for my hubby. He loves cantaloupe and CAN eat it without extreme pain being involved. Lucky guy. Oh that one bite was so delicious. Mmm. I knew better than to chance a second, it does not take much to really cause me a great deal of pain. I felt good sending it off with hubby anyway. He will munch on that thing all day today.
And another week begins...
Saturday, August 18, 2007
I Have To Go To Bed
But First This.
All right, so I read this grrrreat post at Eternity Road, I know, they are all great, but this one was powerful, with a capital P. It's about Commies. They don't just live under rocks you know, they are real, and they have real power over millions of people around the world right now, as I write this very post. This is not a thing of days gone by, this is here and now people. Anyway, we all know the more extreme, and even the some of the mainstream leftists are a little too fond of communist ideology. Sure, they don't openly admit that. No sir. And they won't admit it. There are still people around who know the wretched results of full frontal communism.
No, they preach diet communism, and call it by other names, but it is still nothing more than a watered down version. Watered down in so many ways, but that doesn't matter either because it is still just as deadly and dangerous to freedom, and life. I think the thing that bothers me the most are how many people I come across in my everyday life that don't see a thing wrong with what Michael Moore and other diet communists of his ilk are proposing. That is what frightens me the most about it all.
I had a co-worker get really ticked off at me because I spouted off one day that, "Communists are evil!" He was extremely offended, and disagreed. We went back and forth for a few minutes and I had to reiterate that, forcibly taking property from people and redistributing it to someone else is EVIL. It just is. I think he got tired of arguing with me about it, and finally just accepted my numerous statements about the millions of people who have died as a result of gulags, and unavailable state run health care, and so on. Not to mention persecution, and executions of political prisoners and more. He only accepted my points with the caveat that, "Well, we aren't much better in the U.S." I just shook my head, and left it alone.
It is astounding. Oh they all hate Bush. Hate him with a passion. They summarize their hate with two words, "Iraq, and Katrina". Now, I can see them holding Bush accountable for Iraq in some ways, even if I don't agree with them on the war even if he did not act alone, but Katrina? What exactly was he supposed to do, magically make the storm go away? He is just one man. That really bothers me when people blame him for the aftermath of Katrina, again, he is one man, and as I recall he took the measures ahead of time to make the help available for them. Unfortunately, it turned out that the storm wreaked so much havoc, and the government agencies seemed to fumble when faced with the overwhelming situation, but it is all Bush's fault. No, it was just too damn big to get a hold on.
All of the looting, shooting, and lawlessness was Bush's fault dontcha know? I mean, he forced those people to stay in the city and wait for bureaucracy to get off it's duff and come and save them. Give me a break. It was just too big, and that of course is all the fault of one man sitting in Washington. Seriously, the irrationality of it all blows my mind. Funny, the biggest critics of the government's response are the same people who would like for all of us to put our faith in the government when it comes to our health care. I just don't understand this logic, and I don't think I ever will.
All right, so I read this grrrreat post at Eternity Road, I know, they are all great, but this one was powerful, with a capital P. It's about Commies. They don't just live under rocks you know, they are real, and they have real power over millions of people around the world right now, as I write this very post. This is not a thing of days gone by, this is here and now people. Anyway, we all know the more extreme, and even the some of the mainstream leftists are a little too fond of communist ideology. Sure, they don't openly admit that. No sir. And they won't admit it. There are still people around who know the wretched results of full frontal communism.
No, they preach diet communism, and call it by other names, but it is still nothing more than a watered down version. Watered down in so many ways, but that doesn't matter either because it is still just as deadly and dangerous to freedom, and life. I think the thing that bothers me the most are how many people I come across in my everyday life that don't see a thing wrong with what Michael Moore and other diet communists of his ilk are proposing. That is what frightens me the most about it all.
I had a co-worker get really ticked off at me because I spouted off one day that, "Communists are evil!" He was extremely offended, and disagreed. We went back and forth for a few minutes and I had to reiterate that, forcibly taking property from people and redistributing it to someone else is EVIL. It just is. I think he got tired of arguing with me about it, and finally just accepted my numerous statements about the millions of people who have died as a result of gulags, and unavailable state run health care, and so on. Not to mention persecution, and executions of political prisoners and more. He only accepted my points with the caveat that, "Well, we aren't much better in the U.S." I just shook my head, and left it alone.
It is astounding. Oh they all hate Bush. Hate him with a passion. They summarize their hate with two words, "Iraq, and Katrina". Now, I can see them holding Bush accountable for Iraq in some ways, even if I don't agree with them on the war even if he did not act alone, but Katrina? What exactly was he supposed to do, magically make the storm go away? He is just one man. That really bothers me when people blame him for the aftermath of Katrina, again, he is one man, and as I recall he took the measures ahead of time to make the help available for them. Unfortunately, it turned out that the storm wreaked so much havoc, and the government agencies seemed to fumble when faced with the overwhelming situation, but it is all Bush's fault. No, it was just too damn big to get a hold on.
All of the looting, shooting, and lawlessness was Bush's fault dontcha know? I mean, he forced those people to stay in the city and wait for bureaucracy to get off it's duff and come and save them. Give me a break. It was just too big, and that of course is all the fault of one man sitting in Washington. Seriously, the irrationality of it all blows my mind. Funny, the biggest critics of the government's response are the same people who would like for all of us to put our faith in the government when it comes to our health care. I just don't understand this logic, and I don't think I ever will.
New Thing
I Like It.
My husband decided to order me a new laptop. At first I was a bit apprehensive about spending the money on it, but he convinced me, and I am so glad he did. I love this gadget. Now, I have to admit I hate not having a traditional mouse to use, this finger pad thing drives me nuts, but my 12 year old assures me that I can hook a mouse up to this thingy.
You've just got to love technology. Now I can surf the web from the comfort of my kitchen table. I really like that. It is pretty darn nifty.
And that is a new post for ya. :)
My husband decided to order me a new laptop. At first I was a bit apprehensive about spending the money on it, but he convinced me, and I am so glad he did. I love this gadget. Now, I have to admit I hate not having a traditional mouse to use, this finger pad thing drives me nuts, but my 12 year old assures me that I can hook a mouse up to this thingy.
You've just got to love technology. Now I can surf the web from the comfort of my kitchen table. I really like that. It is pretty darn nifty.
And that is a new post for ya. :)
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