Blogus Interruptus

Because of my daughter's short trek from Kansas... (YIPPEE!) and my overwhelming workload (BOO! HISS!) I may not get to visit your blog for a couple of days. Please feel free to carry on without me. Talk amongst yourselves. Hell, you can even talk about me, if you want to! I'll be around soon to catch up with you.

One of the Fastest Ways to Piss Me Off

Is to let me totally process a new job for you, send it to you via e-mail, then have you write me back and say, "keep the job as there is another field coming and I want them all done as one farm".

In other words, I have just spent an hour of my life doing something for nothing. Dumbass.

Visiting the Darkness

The link to The Dark Madness will be permanently posted over there ---> so you can check it out from time to time. It isn't there to bum anyone out. It's just some other pieces that make up this creature known as me. Although I've been sending people over there recently because of the Domestic Violence Awareness month, it's not all about DV, but rather many of those darker shades of glass that I still look through occasionally. Remember, it's just like this blog, it's mine and only I am subject to its critical reviews. I'm not aiming to entertain the masses, but rather purge the demons. Just so you know...

Oh, and these posts will be sinking after the end of the month, but (Becky) remember there are new posts below...

The Brave Bloggers

In honor of October being Domestic Violence Awareness month, I've been inspired by some brave bloggers out there. Bitchitude and 3T have done a wonderful job of sharing their stories. They make me strong. I'm ready to share. I have another blog. It's subtitled "the other side of the happy life". I put it out there to purge some of what I've gone through. Welcome to the Dark Madness.

(I've edited this to stay on top for awhile so everyone gets a chance at it...)

Clueless in Iowa

Hubby: You know, when the banker came out and rode with me in the combine the other day he was saying some really nice things about you.
Me: Oh, yeah?
Hubby: Yeah. I think he really likes you. He's really impressed with you.
Me:...
Hubby: No, you aren't "fooling" him.
Me: Have you been reading my blog?
Hubby: Why?
Me: I just put a post on the other one about that very thing.
Hubby: What other one?
Me: You know, the Dark Mad... the other blog... the one about all the bad stuff
Hubby: I just thought that was a post on your regular blog!
Me: ...
Hubby: How many blogs do you have?!?!

Done?

Hubby: We're done combining!
Me: GREAT!
Hubby: So... are you done with your work?
Me:...
Hubby: Guess that's a no, huh?

A Christmas Story

It's a bit early, but bear with me. I get to be the mom and tell a tale on Em. (Payback for "Okla-ohshit-homa"...)

When she was just a wee type, about three years old, she was such a cutie. Red hair, porcelain skin, big brown eyes and a yellow stuffed cat permanently attached to her arm.

One Christmas we were having the family to our house. We open a few gifts on Christmas eve at my in-laws, then they and my parents would come over Christmas morning to open the rest.

My parents lived in a nearby town and we'd been there a few days before, bringing gifts home with us to save them some hauling.

(Children should leave now - major spoiler alert!)

Because we have four children, Christmas eve becomes rather hectic. "Santa" must fill the stockings, eat the cookies, drink the milk, and put every 412-piece Barbie dream house or matchbox car set together before finally being able to lay his/her head on the pillow - only to be awakened at 5 a.m. by squealing laughter and whispers of 'look what Santa brought' ...'can we open our stockings now?'... 'when can we open presents?' That's the way it's supposed to work anyway. That is until a little red-headed-pea-picker (as Hubby called her) came up with another plan.

The stockings are hung by the chimney with care (okay, we didn't have a chimney - they were hung on the entertainment center). The cookies and milk were history. The 'santa' gifts were wrapped - always in paper different than any under the tree - that had to be hidden away since, of course, I wouldn't have the same paper as Santa! To bed, to bed... at last... to bed.

Noises penetrate the fog of sleep. What am I hearing? It makes no sense. I start to follow where I think I'm hearing the noise. Downstairs. Uh-oh. Downstairs - where the Christmas tree is. I round the corner and there she is...my sweet little red-headed devil child. Happy as a clam amidst paper and ribbon and boxes. All over the room. She turns and gives me a million-watt smile and says, "Hi mommy!"

Damn.Damn.Damn. Now what do I do? As much as I wanted to pull her limb from limb, you can't exactly beat your child to within an inch of their lives on Christmas Eve, can you? Believe me... I had to have that discussion with myself for a good 10 minutes. I pick her up, tell her she isn't to tell the other kids about what they're getting. (She's always been unusually good at keeping secrets.) ...and sent her off to bed with a hug.

Now becomes the fun part. I get to re-wrap everything! Oh, yeah... including my parents' gifts. No clue who they go to, but by God, they got wrapped. Needless to say it made for an interesting Christmas morning. I'm sure glad she found other things to facinate her as the years went on!

I pity her husband... and her dog.

Friday Flashback

Originally post November 2, 2004

Dear Ex-Son-In-Law

There is a reason you are an 'ex'. I take that back. There are several reasons. One of them is because you are a dumbass. Yes, I really mean that. I normally don't like to be critical of the father of my grandchild, but this time you have really done it. The word fits.

Why, oh why, did you forget about Beggar's Night? Didn't you notice little children dressed in wild costumes going door-to-door through your neighborhood? Didn't you turn on the television anytime this weekend and notice that Halloween was here? Didn't my grandchild show up on your doorstep on Friday night all excited about the Halloween party he had at school that day? Didn't he show you his costume? Didn't he express excitement about seeing all the other kids and collecting gobs of candy? Did you really "forget" - or were you just being lazy? Either way, you are not excused. To a six-year-old, this is a big deal.

Dumbass.

While You Were Musing

After posting that little tidbit about memories, it got me to thinking. Memories are one of those elusive things. They can pop up unexpected with a few notes of a song or a brief scent floating on the air in a crowded theater. They can be something that lives inside of you that won't leave you alone and haunts you, in the case of a bad memory. It can effect your whole life... for years. I know. It did.

It can be happy, triggered by a holiday or a movie re-running on HBO in the dead of night. A child may laugh and you suddenly are transported to a time when your children were small and giggling came easier. It can be a favorite food. For me, the combination of a cup of cocoa (yes, Em, the real stuff) and a piece of buttered toast will take me back to being four-years-old and sitting in my grandmothers' kitchen. A train whistle will remind me of dark nights sitting on the stair landing next to a small window and watching the trains go by across the block.

Sometimes you have to dig for a memory. It can be a good one, but it's gotten stuck behind the everyday this-is-why-I-make-lists stuff. I've always been a list maker, notetaker. People ask me why. I say, my brain only holds so much information. If I make a list then I can remember one thing; where I put the list. I don't have to remember all the things that are on the list! I make grocery lists and lists of things to do and songs I hear I like and blog thoughts. Recently, they have been memory lists. Things I want to share. I want to write down. Things I don't want to lose.

Bear with me. These may pop out from time to time. It's all part of the process. Besides. It's my blog, remember? I make the rules... you just have to put up with them. Or leave. Whatever. I hope you stay. I hope you find something in my memories that spark one of your own. Good, bad or indifferent. Of course, the bad ones will probably be over on that other place... 'cause that is where they belong. Don't worry. I have lots of happy ones, too...

Can I Cash In Now?

My blog is worth $16,371.66.
How much is your blog worth?

I Am Not the Secretary (Not That There's Anything Wrong With Secretarys)

Because I work in a small office full of men and I am the only woman, I am often confused with being some kind of secretary. No, I cannot tell you what your bill is. No, I do not do the bookwork. No, I don't know anything about the inventory. No, I cannot do the timecards. No, I cannot post things to your account. Yes, I can answer the phone. If I have to. If I'm the only person in the office. Otherwise, someone else will answer it. Anyone else will answer it. Sometimes the machine even answers it.

Today we had a truck driver in the office who had taken his smartass pill this morning. He was standing in the outer office yapping to one of the guys "... blah blah blah...secretary...blah blah...sitting back there...blah blah...secretary." The person in my office finally said, "She's not the secretary. She's the GPS Manager". "Oooo..." smartass replied.

Then he starts in on farmers. "...blah blah blah...getting new pickups...blah blah..." I couldn't hear what all he was saying, but it didn't sound flattering. The person in my office beat me by a nano-second, "You'd better quit while you're ahead. She's also married to a farmer."

Dumbass.

Impatiently Waiting

Okay, now I KNOW there are more than four of you who visit my blog. I have a whole list of you people over there ---> who didn't all get there by me going to you. SOME of you actually came to me.

Go down a couple of posts... go on...just a couple...to the one titled Memories. See it? Read it. Do it. This is a polite request. Don't make me get my stick out! I really am interested... okay, I've admitted to being a blogwhore. Doesn't that count for SOMETHING?? Please? Pretty please?

Joy Joy Happy Happy Joy Joy

Stop what you're doing right now and go over and see what's new at Brad's house! What happiness! What joy! What a cutie... right up there with Brian's Bean! (Of course, Brian's an old hat at this now, so he's not posting as many pictures... I figure Brad will keep us updated more often. Probably Sebastian will have his own blog just like big sister Zoey does!) Disclaimer: This does NOT mean the rest of you have ugly children. In fact, many of you have lovely, cute and hilariously funny children. Yours are just older and I'm into the instant gratification of new birth.

Also, in the good news department, go tell mama at mamalife how happy we all are that Wilma left 'em alone! Whoot!

Isn't it fun when there is something nice to report?

Oh, and keep posting those memories below!... I enjoy them... except Em's. I was hoping that one would be forgotten a long time ago... sigh.. I don't know which is worse, your mom bringing up embarrassing things or your KIDS doing it? It's a toss up.

Okay, back to my regular whining...

Memories**

If you are reading this, leave one memory of you and I together. It doesn't matter if I know you a little or a lot, anything you remember. Next, post this in your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you....and for all those people who have never met me... how did you find me and why in the world do you keep coming back?


**stolen from Kate

Fried

My brain as well as other body parts are fried. Crispy-critter. Toast. No, I'm not talking sunburn, people, I'm talking burned out. I have worked my little fingers to the bone today without a break and have not gotten one new thing done. Not one. It's all been reprocessing old things. This is not good. I have a stack of new things that make Miss Sizzle's desk look as smooth as the Sahara (you'll have to find the picture she posted of her "messy"desk).

Arrrggghhh...!!!

On a lighter note, my Hubby "cooked" last night! Whoot! Steak sandwiches and fries from a local restaurant. Yum.Yum.

Also, he's such a sweetie. We were having a deep discussion yesterday about my job. It always amazes him that he knows so little about what I do with the majority of my time. This is the first job I've had where he actually understands some of it because it deals with agriculture, and he has actually met the people I work with. After talking for awhile about my job and why I've been so tired lately, he blurted out, "Now I really feel like a lazy sack of shit!" He went on to say he can't believe how much I do in a day, not counting all the things I do at home. Bless him. I love the fact that he recognizes what I do. How many guys really do? I shouldn't just say guys, 'cause I think there are a lot of women who don't realize how much their husbands do every day, either. We only see the small portion that we share when we are in the same space and then it can be either a peaceful co-existance or a battle. One thing we always silently agree on is that we don't bug each other about our space. He never hounds me if I don't have the house picked up or the cleaning done and I don't EVER give him "honey-do" lists. Never. Ever. It's a peaceful co-existance.

Just thought I'd share. Now I'm going to go home and collapse.

In Response to a Reader's Request - Messy Living

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In Twenty Years... Won't They Be Gorgeous?

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Summer Leftover

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Part of the Garden

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Out My Front Door

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Naughty, Naughty Penguini

They didn't warn me in time. NOW what do I do? How do you clean up penguini sick? Sure, Andy... send me alcoholic penguini.
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Alaskan Shih Tzus

I thought shih tzus were from China, originally. Is China a cold country? I really don't know. All I know is at 4 o'clock this morning when I could have been sleeping soundly in my warm bed, I was outside watching a couple of silly pups run around the yard like they were on fire. No lack of energy there! I figure, it's getting colder out - they won't be out long. Yeah...right...a half an hour goes by with me freezing my ass off and they're still having a whee of a time. I can't get the little one to come inside! She's got to be a popsicle!

Now I'm wide awake. I tried going back to bed, but my mind was racing... decided I'd do a little light reading...

Have I mentioned I'm NOT a morning person?

It Was A Nice Thought

It was... honest. Unfortunately, Hubby didn't get home until late and was just as tired as I was, so it became a can of soup night. Oh, well...

Dinnertime

What's for dinner? We've all heard it or said it a million trillion times. I happen to have a co-worker who has the most organized working wife in the world. Not only is she mom to two little boys and works her tail off as a nurse, she gives her husband menu options for the entire week and lets him decide what he wants each day - as long as he tells her that morning before he goes to work, he can be assured it will be prepared that night. I tell ya, she gives the rest of us a bad name!

When I was growing up I was raised on leftovers. I was an only child, but my mother came from a family of five where she was expected to prepare or help prepare most of the meals. They were poor, so food was of the cheap and plentiful variety. Potatoes, home-made egg noodles, soups and stews and everything was saved and eated for leftovers. When my mother cooked, she always made enough that we usually had a whole other meal left, if not more.

This came in handy when I had four children of my own. Except when we started having the finicky eaters. You know who you are! They would suddenly - as in mid-bite - decide they didn't like something and that was it. They would never touch it again. We had some tremendous fights over this issue. I realize that's the BAD MOM way now, but at the time it was the way you did it. I, too, remember being five and having the worlds' worst abhorrance of all things pop-corn and hot dog. Yep, weird kid, I know. Give me beef heart or spinach or liver and onions and I was happy as a clam, but get near me with a hot dog and you'd find me getting creative. I could never get my puppy to eat it, either, but I'd try and sneak it into my napkin and throw it away. Um...yeah... like she wouldn't see that one coming! I ate more hot dogs that had been in the garbage can than the neighborhood dogs. Ick. I didn't start eating either of those things again until I was in my late 20's or 30's.

In our house, it then became "if you don't like what's on the menu, you can make yourself a peanut butter sandwich". We went through a lot of peanut butter.

In my husband's house, it was another story. I'm not sure what it was the first time around, but by the time my husband would find it in the refrigerator while looking for something to eat, it would be a science experiment. To this day, he has a fear of all things leftover. If I give him something we just had a couple of days before, I'll get The Quiz: What is this? How long ago did you make it? Are you sure it's okay? Doesn't it taste funny to you?

In order to trick mislead pacify my husband, I will take leftovers that are freezer-friendly and deep-six them until a week or month has gone by when I can safely take it out and reheat and serve without The Quiz.

In our current home, now that there are just the two of us, mealtime has become a different animal alltogether. Yes, I'm still cooking for six. Can't help it. Most of the time I freeze the leftovers or take them to work for lunches. It used to be my oldest son would make a lap through occasionally and clean me out, but he's been too busy and has moved just far enough away to make it inconvenient. (Besides, knowing how he likes to cook, he probably has a frig full of leftovers of his own.)

Sometimes when I'm very tired, or sick, or sick and tired (shaddup - I hear you sayin' "lazy"), we have code words. Fend For Yourself means just what you think it does. It's every man/woman for themselves. For me, that can mean something leftover, or a turkey pot pie with cottage cheese. Maybe even a simple bowl of instant mashed potatoes with butter or cooked, buttered and salted macaroni - plain. See? I have simple tastes. Hubby won't see these things. He won't even try. I can offer suggestions of what's in the freezer or cupboard, but nine times out of ten, he heads for the frozen pizzas.

Our other "I'm tired" code is It's Your Night to Cook. This, of course, is uttered by me to my spouse. He takes it well. He runs with it. He has a small repetoire of items he will cook including bacon and eggs, the aforementioned frozen pizza, and restaurant take-out. Yes, that qualifies as him cooking. He does grill, too, but if I've got to make all the stuff to go with it, then that's not him cooking.

Last night I went to the grocery store after work and I was so tired that food didn't look good. Anyone who knows me will tell you that's very tired. I don't pass on food very often and most everything looks good to me all the time. (My scale will testify to this. )I got home and ate a banana for supper. Yep. That was it. Hubby made himself a frozen pizza.

Tonight after working all day again, I called him on the way home and we were discussing what I could make with the hamberger I'd gotten out of the freezer. I told him I felt badly for not cooking last night and would make it up to him tonight. You know what he said? He's cooking. Yep. He volunteered to go into town and pick up some food (we live in the country, remember? No deliveries.). Wasn't that the sweetest thing you ever heard? I don't care what they say about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach... it works for me! Thanks, hon!

Friday Saturday Flashback

Originally post May 8, 2004 - Mother's Day

Happy Mother

Yes, I'm a happy mother. I'm the proud mom of four grown kids... ages 29 to 23 ... and a 7-year-old grandson. I've got several "critters" and "grand-critters". Yeah, I'm weird. I count them, too. I'm really pleasantly surprised how everyone turned out. You go through those years of screaming at each other and thinking you'll never talk again, but you get past it and you all figure out that each of you has a point and you maybe are making some sense and maybe mom and dad aren't as dumb as they were when you were 14.

I went through a difficult childhood. My birthmother died from complications of polio when I was 3 and I was sent to live with my paternal grandparents. They were terrific, and when my grandmother passed in the 70's I felt as though I'd lost my mother all over again. I can't really remember my birthmother - except for one visit to the hospital where I remember seeing her in an iron lung.My father re-married when I was 5, and my birthmother was never spoken of again. Weirdly enough, they made the Memorial Day trek to her grave, but it was just not spoken of. Ever. No pictures were ever shared with me... as a matter of fact, I never even saw a baby picture of myself until I was in my teens and snooped.

My stepmom adopted me - and I was roundly cuffed if I called her my "stepmother" to the kids at school. She was my "mother". Period. Okay, whatever.My parents did the best they could, but as I got older they still looked and treated me as though I were 8 years old. My father even admitted that to my aunt once. They were so overprotective as to make me a prisoner of my own home. I was barely allowed out of the house. Lots of bitching and bickering took place in my home, too. My father has a definate anger management problem, and though not diagnosed "officially" I'm pretty sure both of them are alcoholics.

Still.At any rate, I went through some stuff that I swore I wasn't going to do to my kids. I tried. I ended up being verbally abusive, as my parents were... but instead of hitting the kids, I threw things around the room. Yeah, not good, I know.When my oldest was in high school I had a nervous breakdown. I went into a deep depression and after about three months I figured out I'd been repressing lots of other bad things that happened to me when I was young that led into some bad behaviours as a teen and young adult. After facing these things I'd been putting in boxes and hiding from myself and others for years, I came to the conclusion I either had to confront my parents (who would be so deep in denial they would never admit to any of it) or just forgive. I ended up forgiving them.

I'm a much better person now.I became the kind of person that could talk to my kids about anything and everything and they talk to me about anything and everything. We've grown up together and I think they've forgiven me for my bad behaviour, too. I really admire my kids for the kind of people they've grown into and I love them with all my heart. It really is Mother's Day every day. Hope you all can have that kind of relationship with your kids, too. It is a beautiful thing.

Friday Links

Today I'm short on time (damn work!) (damn lottery!) so I'm not able to give these people the attention they deserve. I haven't even gotten them over there ---> yet! But, don't worry, they'll be there.

Erin at Empty Cerebrations
Daniel at Blurred Clarity
Mikey at Mikey
Chris at Rude Cactus
and a whole lotta people from Postcards from Holland

As always, stop on over and tell 'em Sue sent me... they'll send you prizes! Okay, that last part was a lie. But they will give you a funny look and probably say, "Sue who?". That alone is worth the price of admission.

FOUND!

Penguini5

When I got home from work, I found them trying to hide out in the garden. Naughty penguini!

Thanks, Andy for all the fun! Iowa now has penguins!
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They're OUT!

Penguini4

Who knew they were so resourceful?? ... and cooperative!
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The Plot Thickens...

Penguini3

Penguini tried to blend in with their surroundings...
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The Escape!

Penguini2

Tipping the can, they made a run for the table edge!
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Penguinis in Iowa!

Penguini 1

Part 1 - The plot thickens as penguini pop the top on their can and plan their escape. Me? I was at work with NO CLUE that penguini could be so coniving... nobody warned me! Who knew?
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Dear Co-Worker

There is going to be some serious ass-kicking here pretty soon and it ain't gonna be my ass. Heads up, asshat!

Antsy Andy

Someone is getting antsy... I can't give away the surprise, but suffice it to say they're HERE... pics will should be coming. (They've been very naughty and I'm having trouble.)

It's SO Scarey!

Since Halloween is almost upon us, I'd like to direct you to my younger daughter's site so you can see who she could be ... personally, I think she looks JUST like my daughter! ...but that's just me.

Thanks For Askin'

In the good news department... it was a cloudy night. I see that puzzled look on your face... what does that have to do with anything? I allow a sly smile. Those of you who have been faithful readers will know exactly where I'm going with this...

No moon.

Blessed sleep.

I'm Not From Ohio Oregon

...and I didn't win the $340 million. Damn. Back to work.

What Grosses You Out?

I don't even know if that's the term that's used anymore, or if I'm dating myself. Grossed-out. It sounds right to me, but then, I'm a bit on the old-fogey side so it could be outdated. Sit a spell and let me tell you a story. A gross but true story. But don't let me influence you... you decide for yourself.

We live in a rural community outside of a larger town not far from a pretty good-sized city. In the course of our daughter getting divorced several years ago, we found out a farmhouse on some land we farmed was going to be available for rent at a very reasonable price. This was at a time when I was between "town" jobs so I volunteered to help my daughter get the new house ready to move into. It needed quite a bit of work because the people who lived there before were slobs. That's a very kind word for what they were, as you'll see.

The entire house interior needed to be painted. It wasn't a very big house, but there was a lot of prep work. I'm not just talking fixing holes and cracks, but trying to wash... and eventually scrape snot off of one whole wall in what was the kids' bedroom. Yep, you heard me right. Green, grody, petrified snot.

Then, of course, we had the mice. They were thick. The basement was one massive mouse hole. We put poison down there and a box would be gone in one night. After discussing the problem with the exterminator who was already helping keep the mouse population down at our old house (we lived in an old farmhouse that was a mouse house, too, if we didn't stay on top of it) and he gave me some 'super' poison. Within a few weeks we got a handle on that problem. It was a shock when we first were in the house to see a dead one in the toilet. The toilet with the closed lid? A gift from the previous tenant, we figured. Nice.

The carpets had to be cleaned, and some actually replaced. My daughter's friend from work - who is now her husband - came to help clean carpets. As they were moving some things around in the bedroom they found... wait for it... a used condom. Yep. Talk about embarrassed! She about died. She and he were just friends at this point and not even really close friends, he just was nice enough to offer to come help and whoops! there it is... Geez... I was embarrassed and I was in the kitchen at the time!

Last, but far from least, they had a dog they'd kept in the breezeway between the house and the garage. You can imagine the condition that space was in. The smell? Indescribable.

Yep. It was an adventure... in grossdom.

Oh, and she and her husband own their own very nice home now in another small town nearby... and I really don't think she misses that particular period in her life.

I Know You Envy My Life

I lead such an exciting life... I truly do. After work I'm going to go buy a plastic garbage can. A big one. Then I'm going home and pick ear corn for the squirrels for the winter.

See? Don't you wish you were me?

Not a Good Sign

It isn't a very good sign of how the day is going to go when you wake up with a headache. Blech. Damn moon.

Mood

Your Mood Ring is Magenta

Weird Creative Insipired Thriving

Mood Ring Generator

What I find interesting is I did this several times and they all came out different. Go figure...
Yes, I'm doing something non-constructive. Sue me.

Tuesday Morning

Do you see the bags under my eyes? Do you see that they are bloodshot? Do you see how my limbs hang limp, as does my hair? Do you notice my chin bouncing on my chest as I try to stay awake? Do you?

Yep. Full moon. 'nuf said.

Bizarre By Marriage

There is no easy way to start this... my former son-in-law was a great sperm donor and has been a pretty good father. However, he's a strange duck. From the time we met him, we were just never completely comfortable with him. That's a shame, because he's a nice person. Just different. His family? That's a whole 'nother story...

When my eldest daughter and M were getting divorced, his mother called from Oklahoma and asked if daughter could come to visit and bring the grandson. This was something daughter had been aniticpating and dreading. I felt that just because they were getting divorced was no reason to keep their grandson from them and I offered to go along for support. I'd also never met his parents before, as they hadn't made it up to the wedding.

We agreed to go see them and they generously offered to put us up at their house. Now, I won't get into all the details, but basically we got bamboozled. From the minute we got there they were both all sweetness and light. We visited about the rest of the family (he has a couple of sisters who are older) and general things. That was in the beginning. One of his sisters who lived close stopped by with her two kids and hubby in tow and they visited a bit, too. After they left, the woman I shall refer to as the EMIL (evil mother-in-law) became agitated and told us that this daughter who had just been there couldn't handle money at all and all the bills came to her house and she paid them and gave them an allowance. She mentioned the daughter's husband had a gun at home and had threatened the whole family before. Okay... not something I'd share with strangers, but whatever... Little did I know....

As evening progressed to night time, M's dad went to bed and we got the baby to bed, then we sat up talking with EMIL into the wee hours of the morning. She was worried about her son. She wanted to know what we thought was going on with him. Considering he had found another woman on the internet (out of the country,no less) and had been talking to her at night in my daughter's livingroom with no thought to how that would effect her or the baby, I'd say he wasn't doing too good. One thing led to another and we started comparing notes about M's behaviour when he was younger. Some things just didn't add up.

Things got crazy when the "G" word slipped out. I'm pretty sure I was the one who said it. It was one of those things that you felt by looking at him and talking to him, but it wasn't something you really wanted to come out and say - especially in front of his mother.

"Do you think it's possible that M is gay?" His mother looked at me like I had eaten a mouthful of shit in front of her and said, "Well, no duh! Of course he is!" WHAT?!?! My daughter and I both looked at each other. EMIL proceeded to go on and on about asking his sisters about it and how he did this and that in school and how all the girls liked him but he didn't date and he wore makeup and was the 'friend' and the 'Ducky' character - even being called that for a nickname for a time. By the time we went to bed, our minds were reeling. Daughter said she couldn't believe it... she was married to him, for goodness sake! She just couldn't believe he could hide it so well... but then again, he'd been sneaking around and getting into some other things like Dungeons and Dragons and some things she didn't really like that he told her he'd quit, but hadn't.

As the visit progressed, the next couple of days got even weirder. EMIL took us to visit with M's sisters and their families and over and over this gay issue came up and the girls just went along with it! They told us story after story and how they were sure he was, but maybe he was in denial, or didn't realize it himself. Oh, my...

Finally, the last day we were sitting around talking and M's dad was showing us some family pictures of he and his wife and different things. Just as pleasant as can be. EMIL is talking about going for a walk... and that she likes to walk... but she always takes her gun with her. HUH? Daughter and I look at each other again. What is going ON with these people?

Now I'm nervous, 'cause I really do not like guns (hunters back off, I'm okay with that)- especially in the hands of someone who seems a bit unstable. She's been just as sweet as can be this whole visit, but she's bad mouthed her kids, her grandkids, and her kids' parenting skills. She talks about M like he's five years old and how much she loves him - he's her favorite - and how much the baby looks just like him. Daughter and I have been watching out for any sign that these people might try and take the baby from us - from the beginning we were wary - one of the main reasons I went with her. There hasn't been anything to really pin this uncomfortable feeling on, though - they've been nice as can be to us. It's just this popping out of these strange statements that has us confounded!

Two hours pass. Daughter and EMIL go for a walk (sans gun, thank goodness). M's dad just keeps up the conversation with me and is asking me computer help questions and visiting very nicely. EMIL and daughter come home and start fixing some supper - we're planning on leaving right after supper and driving to Arkansas to my parents' place, about a three hour drive from there. We're almost done with supper and daughter excuses herself to finish packing. I'm going to help start clearing the table, when out of the blue M's dad says something about, "You know, we know you never liked M and you never liked us". I thought my head was going to come off my shoulders. "That's not true", I say... "We made every effort to get along with M". He continues..."Kids should stand on their own two feet. You should not be paying their bills for them." Where in the hell is this coming from? Yes, we paid a fuel bill when they lived in a house on a farm we rented because it was in our name... and we also expected the kids to pay us back! I tell him this. (Noting that EMIL is very quiet during this part of the conversation - daughter and I have figured out that M's dad doesn't know she's paying her kids' bills for them or budgeting their money- if all that is even true!)

Finally EMIL can stand it no longer and pipes up... "You come in here and accuse my son of being GAY and say all these bad things about him!" ...WTF? Weren't you the one that jumped on THAT bandwagon??? I was biting my tongue so hard I'm surprised I didn't bite it clean off!

It went downhill from there. I was sandbagged. My face and neck were as red as Rudolphs' famous nose and my heart was about to come out of my chest. Daughter finally came through with a load of things and realized with one look at me that things were not going along as well as they were when she left the table. Now she wanted to know what was going on and tried to defend me... all the time we're both keeping our voices very calm and collected while EMIL and M's dad were actually yelling at me in very loud voices! I finally had enough. I thanked them for their hospitality (yeah, I really did, can you believe it?) and we got out of there.

As we're out by the car packing things in (as quickly as possible) they had the nerve to start talking about getting our e-mail address so they could get pictures of the baby... in your dreams, psychos!!

I drove out of there like a bat out of hell. I was crying and shaking and my daughter was, too... we both were just in such shock! For them to act like such nice people for three days... and actually not only agree with us that M could be gay, but to feed us stories and information to try and prove it! Then, to turn on us at the last minute and tell us how horrid we were?

I told my daughter on that drive to Arkansas that I realized M had gone onto another woman on the internet, and who knew what was going to happen with that... but I suddenly had a lot more empathy with him for growing up in that psych ward of a home. If he and she decided to patch it up I thought I could probably accept it, seeing as I saw for the first time what he'd grown up with. It explained a lot. Needless to say, I got to Arkansas and swore I was never ever going to Oklahoma again.

M and daughter were divorced several years ago. The internet woman didn't pan out, but neither did the marriage. The trust was broken. Daughter has never been back to Oklahoma, and even though M had some money troubles and moved back down there for awhile to re-group, he came back to Iowa to be close to his son and he's never gone back to visit - or taken my grandson to visit. I think maybe his parents came up here once to see him, but it wasn't a very long visit. We were paranoid for a long time about them trying to take the baby, but then realized M didn't really want to have him exposed to that craziness either. That's one thing I give him credit for. He's got enough sense to realize that as screwed up as he is, his family is waaay worse.

Now, don't you wonder what all my kids' significant others say about us? Sometimes I do...

By Marriage

My daughter's experiences this weekend with her in-laws made me think about extended families, particularily people you are sort-of related to only by marriage. It's rather a strange association. Here you have two people who come from different families somehow find each other in this big wide world and get married. Now they love and accept each others' quirks... and because they love each other, they try to accept and get along with their in-laws. But what happens when you go another layer deep? When in-laws associate with in-laws? How does that work?

We've been on both sides of the fence. The lucky side and the bizzaro side. On the lucky side, we have a wonderful mom and dad who have raised three kids (two boys and a girl), whose middle son is married to our eldest daughter, and who are great people. They have done foster care for years and have many success stories - as well as heartaches. That's a given. They've been there for our daughter and their son through thick and thin and we appreciate that more than they'll ever know. They took in our grandson as their own and, in fact, spend much more time with him than we do! (Something I'd very much like to remedy in the future!)

Another of our lucky experiences has been with our younger daughter and her husband. His parents are terrific, if not a bit hyper (as Em has recently posted). His mom is a lot more like me and his dad... is... active. They are very supportive of the kids and his dad has a lot in common with his son, especially biking and bike racing. They've raised three very nice boys with SIL being the eldest. We don't know them very well, but what contact we've had with them (wedding planning, etc.) they were very easy to get along with and I think if we lived closer his mom and I could become pretty good friends.

The last lucky experience has been with our youngest son and his serious girlfriend - the one I call DIL2B. Her parents are former farmers and can relate to our lifestyle and they the ones we've spent the most time with, simply because they are such race fans that they go to sons' races a lot. They have raised DIL2b and her older brother, both of who are pretty outgoing and fun people, with major work ethics (this girl will go to a race and get home at 2 am and get back up at 4 am to drive 40 miles to work and/or school!) Her dad also is a great fabricator and has done some things for us that were very well done (for the race car and repairing farm equipment). Her mother is also going to school to be a nurse and working... !

I just think it's strange how you have these people that you don't know from a block of wood and suddenly you're related by marriage! The world gets smaller every day...

I'll save the bizzare one for another post... its a story in itself!

I Really Can't Complain

I'm sorry for the people who had to work today. (No, REALLY!) I should have. Hubby should have. We both said "fuck it". Everybody needs a day off once in awhile, right? Neither of us have had one for a couple of weeks at least and it's catching up. There are advantages to being your own boss.... me? I am technically a part-timer but I make my own hours as long as the work gets done. It's just this time of year it turns into a full-time plus more type of job to get it all done. If we don't take a day off now and then, the next thing you know, we'll both have a cold or some such thing. Happens every time we get worn out. Tomorrow the rat race will begin again.

Today? Today was a beautiful day weather-wise. Hubby and I slept in a bit, then he read his Sunday paper and I read my book, and he left to do some 'minor' work stuff. I worked on laundry and dishes and some little things like that. A phone call about noon and he came home to pick me up and took me out to lunch. We did exciting things such as washing his pickup and went shopping for a new spade. (I told you it was exciting!) Home, and we both decided naps were in order and that's what we did. When we woke up we decided food was a priority and we hadn't had 'town' pizza for a long time. (For those of you who live in town, you don't know how lucky you are to have things like pizza delivered to your door!) We got a Papa Murphy's - one of those you pick up and take home and bake - and it turned out to be very good.

Finished my laundry, pups out and put to bed, and I'm watching Law and Order CI (just figured out what was going on with the new characters... I've missed a couple of weeks)... and waiting for Crossing Jordan to come on. (Yes, Em, I'm taping "Grey's Anatomy"). A nice, quiet, restful day...

Ready for the rat-race to begin again tomorrow morning - bright and early.

Why I Didn't Win

Because now it's $340 million. God figured I needed a bit more to share. (A girl can dream, can't she?)

$300 Million

That'd work. I've got two tickets. My luck?... I'll just get another look at the crazy lady across the road.

They're All Mouth

No, I'm not talking about today's youth... although, come to think of it, I could be.... just kidding!

I'm talking about itsy bitsy teeney weeney grains of pepper sized bugs we call "no-see-ums". I know that sounds like a dumb name, but trust me, once you see them, you wonder how. Up close and personal, they look like a little Pac-Man, all mouth and teeth.

Because of our rare "Indian Summer" we're having this week, all the bugs are back... the asian beetles (like lady bugs only orange), the box elder bugs, the flies, and most annoying... the no-see-ums. I've mentioned this before, but I've got some strange reaction to bug bites. No matter how small, they swell up HUGE. I've never been tested, but I'm probably one of those people who would go into shock if I got stung by a wasp or bee. Then, after the initial swelling and itching, it goes down somewhat... until, oh...about 11 o'clock at night as I'm just drifting to sleep. Suddenly, everthing itches! I've tried about every cortisone cream (extra strength!), benedryl, ice, numbing sprays, you-name-it... nothing works. Arrgghh!

I'm ready for another hard freeze... kill those little bastards!!!

Saturday Leftovers

First, yes it's Saturday... and I'm at work. (C'mon people... altogether now...awwwww!!!) For most people this is either a jammie day, a housecleaning day, a yard work day, a golfing day, or something equally interesting. Today it's just another friggin' day of work. Have I mentioned I hate this time of year? I love fall... I just hate that I'm so busy I can't enjoy it.

Some, if not all of my family know how weird the chipmunk story is because it's happened before. Yes, people. Only last time I wasn't directly responsible. I swear! I was in high school and had two hamsters, Henry and Matilda. I was doing science experiments on them. (No hamsters were harmed ... it was a maze, people! Sheesh! What do you take me for??) After the experiments were completed, I had to give the hamsters away. They went to two different homes, which was good because I had to keep them seperated anyway. Matilda was a bitch. Really. If she did get in with Henry, she just picked on him and beat him up. She was awful. He was a sweetie. (I don't want to hear any comparisons with the humans in the crowd...I'm convinced she was totally a fluke.)

He lived a long and happy life. She went to a home with a bunch of little kids who put her cage on the bay window ledge. She was notorious for escaping from her cage. She did. She fell (or jumped) off into a bucket of water and drowned. Yep. Like I say, very bizarre...

As far as conjuring up Ed McMahon goes... I bought a couple of lottery tickets. Will that work?

Finally, I just want to say something about the Dark Madness. My husband asked me last night why I want to keep going back to that dark time in my life? Why not just move forward? I want people to know there is hope. There can be a happy life on the other side of the abyss. I'm not claiming to be "Suzy Sunshine" all the time, but because of the love of my husband and kids I'm not going back into that dark place again. Having said that, some of this may come from losing my mother at such an early age and craving that knowlege of who was she and what was she like? To have the gift of being able to see inside her mind and know how she thought - maybe it would be disturbing, I'm not claiming this has not been disturbing for my family - but maybe it too will let them peek inside my head a bit. I also wrote, at least to this point, without any clue that anyone would ever read that blog... especially my family. There have therefore been no special concessions made for them. I did not write to pump them up or tear them down or rip out their hearts. I simply wrote the truth, and will continue to do so.

I read something once by David Pelzer the man who wrote "A Child Called It". He was talking about all the criminals in the world who blamed their lives of crime on child abuse. He said he wanted to write his books to show that it wasn't always the case. That it was an excuse, like anything else. He wanted people to know you could be abused and come out the other side a whole, loving, kind human being. I'm just trying to show that although I'm a bit quirky at times, I'm a whole, loving, kind human being who survived. Rejoice!

I'm a Conjurer!

Eeek! I re-posted the entry about my crazy elderly neighbor and added an update that I hadn't seen her since this happened, back in June.

I get home from work tonight and GUESS WHO is standing in her driveway glaring at me.... ding!ding!ding!ding!... you win! Yep... believe it or not.

So, what do YOU think...? Did I conjurer her up?

Friday Links

Just a couple this week. (Shaddup - I've been BUSY!)

Andi at Humor and Quips and Quirks, OH MY!

Kandy at Kandy's Dish - us midwesterners gotta stick together!

Remember to tell them "Sue says hi"... I just LOVE that look of total confusion that comes over their faces...!

Friday Flashback

(Original Post June 2, 2005)

The Crazy Lady

I had a scary thing happen yesterday morning. I'd taken off the morning from work as daughter was taking new grand-critter to the vet and I wanted to go with. We'd not gone yet and the doorbell starts ringing off the hook! I mean, it was being LAID on. I start for the door, and I see the handle start moving - whoever it was was coming in! Turns out it was the old lady from across the road. (We live in the country and our house is on a long drive that winds back into the trees next to a farm field - her house is right across from the entrance to our driveway.)She's standing there, all disheveled, barefoot... yelling at me because she can't breath because "he's spraying that poison again!" She started going on and on about "he sprayed it two weeks ago and I've been in bed ever since coughing" and would I like to hear her cough?

She is going to call the DNR (Department of Natural Resources) because we shouldn't be spraying when it's coming toward her bedroom window! She can't breath! Do you want to hear me cough? Do you? ...and you started a fire and I had to sit up all night worrying about my house burning down! ... I try to intercede... "Ma'am..."

"DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M stupidbitchingcrazywoman's_name FROM ACROSS THE ROAD!"...(She steps back and looks at the house)...(insert snooty tone)...must be nice to be rich and be able to build a fancy house like this and not care if you POISON other people! I'm 84 years old and I have lived over there just fine until THIS... I walked all the way over here and DO YOU WANT to HEAR ME COUGH?I couldn't get a word in edgewise. She was ranting! I closed the door.

She left... barefoot... she got out in front of the garage and started waving her arms around and talking to herself... Then she started walking down the driveway, stopping every 10 feet to bend over and cough/spit/whatever. When she got near the end of the driveway, we saw a pickup pull in the drive and pick her up, then her daugher came across the road and they all went back to her house. (Found out later the pickup was the mailman). I'd called Hubby, I was so shook... yes, he was spraying just the edge of the field again. It was legal - the wind wasn't blowing. It wasn't going anywhere. Yes, he burned the ditch about 5 weeks ago and the wind wasn't blowing her way and he was there watching it.

He decided he was going to go down and talk to her. He met up with her daughter on the road. She was soooo apologetic. I guess her mom's never done anything like this before, but daughter said she'd just come from the attorney where she's been trying to figure out something to do with her mom. She's been drinking again and has some dementia and is getting worse and daughter doesn't know what to do about her. She told Hubby that her mom will say, "do you smell that chemical?"... and daughter will say, "noooo"... but doesn't make any difference. She gave Hubby her cell phone number so if mom shows up again we can call her.

It was a real shock - like day and night. She was so sweet this winter when I took cookies over to them and when Hubby cleaned snow out their driveway (for free) . Wow. What a change. I know my Dad is a mean drunk, but at least he's the devil you know... you know what buttons NOT to push. With a stranger it's hard to know what to say to calm them or whatever. I was so shocked I was speechless!What worries me, too, is I know she has at least one gun and uses it occasionally on the crows. I think Hubby was going to call the daughter sometime soon and see if she can be sure that is put up. I don't know what daughter would have done if she would have been here by herself. She sure didn't need THAT... and if we'd been gone? Who knows! In that state, she could shoot our dogs, pull up all my flowers, who knows? So unpredictable...Guess we're going to have to be more careful about locking the doors - even when we're home. She tried to walk right in! Hubby said he thinks the daughter almost wished she had so she could use that as evidence to help put her mom away...

When I'm an old crazy lady my kids have permission to lock me up.

Update: We haven't seen the old lady since this happened. I don't know if her daughter actually did get her put away, or if she's just taken away the booze, or what. I haven't missed her.

Sleep Is Overrated

No. No it's not.

If You Could See My Guilt

I feel awful. Terrible. Why? Because I'm a killer. I didn't mean to be, it just happened. It was an accident. I'm just not feeling very good about the whole thing. I killed one of the chipmunks. My sweet, funny, quirky little chipmunks that Hubby and I teasingly called "Chip and Dale"... never knowing one from the other. Well, there will only be one, now.

There was a 5 gallon bucket that had been sitting at the bottom of the back steps off the deck and over the summer it's collected rainwater. I thought it would be nice for my houseplants to give them a drink of some 'natural' water... you know, I was just full of those good intentions. Lotta good it did me. Today I was out with the pups and happened to look into the bucket in passing and there it was... just floating peacefully... not even bloated. I can 't believe it had been in there for long. It didn't smell or look bad or anything.

That did nothing for my mood, I'm tellin' ya... sigh.

Busier Than...

...a one armed paper hanger
...a puppy with two peckers
...a rooster in a henhouse

...feel free to add to my list - I'm just too busy. (You can go over to that "other" site and catch up.)

Oh, and yes, it really IS that time and I really AM at work.

Better Now, Thanks!

To all of you wonderful people who offered me support while I was entertaining Uncle Ralph. Thank you! I'm MUCH better now...!

Find A Mate

Get Back In The Game... Find a Mate!

This was the message that greeted me in my inbox this morning. Do they know something I don't know? Hmmm... better talk to Hubby about this!

Unexpected Visitor

You remember Uncle Ralph? He's the dreaded relative that comes occasionally without warning and stays as long as he feels like it. He's never welcome, and always a pain - somewhere. He has no sense of timing or shame and thinks nothing of coming to visit when your really don't have the inclination to chat. He's rude and crude and ugly and smelly. He makes your life a living hell.

Damnit, Ralph! I had better things to do today.

D'you suppose it was the ham salad I had for supper? I just bought it, but I threw it away. I don't think I can face it again for awhile.

ESP'd Again

Remember when I said last night that I was thinkin' of making chili? Uh huh... I did. I made it. Hubby got home about 8 o'clock from the field, walked in said -

Hubby: You're not going to believe this.
Me: What?
Hubby: Last night at the races people were eating chili and it looked soooo good and I went to get some and they were out. I've been thinking how good chili sounded ever since.
Me: Good think I made it, huh?

See why he thinks there's something strange about me? We haven't had chili for months, let alone talk about it. I rarely tell him what I'm making for supper, it's usually a surprise unless I've told him he's cooking or grilling or we're going out. It's a knack.

Andy Made Me... and He Really "Made" Me!

Go to Andyland!Go to Andyland! Go to Andyland! Go to Andyland!

Andy felt sorry for me and made this lovely picture for me to whore myself for penguins. I told him how hard it was to find penguins here in Iowa. Isn't he sweet?

Sorry kids, I guess I really am a blogwhore now, aren't I?

This is the Part Where You Learn Why

Conversation Hubby and I had last night at 10 p.m.

Me: Remember when we talked a couple of days ago about how it would be a good time to switch out the PCMCIA cards in the yield monitor?
Hubby: Uh huh.
Me: Did you remember to do it?
Hubby: Yep.
Me: What did you do with it.
Hubby: Damn. I think I left it in my shirt pocket.
Me: The shirt I just washed?
Hubby:...

Are there any technical people out there that knows if PCMCIA card data can be salvaged after it's been through the washing machine?

UPDATE: It still works!! Will wonders never cease....

Wha?

I'm driving to work this morning about half asleep when I hear an ad come on the radio for a large jewlery store. Some woman is going on and on about how helpful they are... and how they were so nice when they explained about divorcee's.

Divorcees? My ears prick up. This is a new one. A jewlery store that's talking about divorcees instead of just engagements and weddings? Hmmm... what kind of jewlery does a divorcee need? Maybe it's how much you can get if you trade in your wedding ring for something else? I'm pondering this for a couple of miles when it suddenly hits me... the four C's... you know, color, cut, clarity, something else.

So how is your morning going?

I Want a Medal, Damnit!

Yes I do. I really do. I've been 'suzie homemaker' today. For those of you too young to remember Suzie, she was an earlier version of Martha Stewart. I hate them both. I am normally NOT this person. Today, I must have gotten up on the wrong side of bed, 'cause it sure wasn't me zooming around this house!

(Disclaimer: I KNOW you all do these things every single day and most of you still have kids at home to make messes and take up your time. I am not saying I'm such a perfect person that I'm way better than you. No, I'm just whining and remember, it's MY blog and I can whine if I want to. You wanna whine, you go right ahead on your own blog.)

First, I got up at 4 a.m. with puppies. Yes, I am a good puppy-mom. Back inside, in my warm bed, Welling.ton draped across me, I zonk back to sleep. 6:30 a.m.. Puppies barking again. WTF? They can't need to go out already, can they? Hubby is still snoring, home late from the races and tired from the whole farm thing, I want to let him sleep so I flop Ton-Ton off onto the foot of the bed and proceed to get my shoes and sweatshirt on - again. Out we go.

Uh...pups? Kids? Let's go back inside, 'kay? It's COLD out here this morning! Figures. No go. They're having fun. Lots of fun. Way too much fun... 30 minutes worth of fun in the cold... completely ignoring every attempt I make to get them to come back in the house. I've yelled, pleaded, begged, growled, barked and meowed. They'll come over to see what I'm doing, but never get close enough to grab... and then zoom off in a wild sprint to the end of the yard. Crap.
Finally, they get tired and come inside. I'm seriously considering shock collars. This is not fun and I can just see them this winter!

Back to bed once more, I toss and turn - Hubby's up roaming around by now, and SIL and friend are still snoozing. (Did I mention they came up and stayed overnight last night? I think I did... ) I doze off once more, thinking about having the day off and what I should do but probably won't.

Up at 9. SIL is up and visiting with Hubby. Hubby's reading the Sunday paper and trying to get motivated to go to the field. SIL's friend comes up a bit later and we all visit a bit, then Hubby leaves and SIL and his friend try to figure out what they're doing today. SIL brings in some care packages that daughter has sent. Whoot!! (Yes, I know, it's usually the parents who send the care packages - suffice it to say one was sent back to her...) She works at CritterLand and has sent all kinds of fun animal treats and samples and her dog's rejects. Also sent some t-shirts and bags (What if I don't WANT to share????) and a book she just finished that she thought I'd like. I won't tell what I sent her, maybe she'll blog about it but I don't want to spoil the surprise...

SIL and friend decide they're going to go meet another friend for lunch and then head on home. Off they go, and I'm sitting on my ass looking at the pit my house has become. Laundry is sorted in piles in my bedroom, the bed's not made, the table and countertops are covered with houseplants that I brought inside so they wouldn't frost the other night and the dirty dishes are beginning to spread. Ugh. I really just want to go in the other room and read or sleep or blog.

I switch the laundry and get another load going. I pick up one of the plants and think, "what the hell, I may as well get this over with" . Ten plants re-potted, cleaned, fed, watered and put in their usual places later, the kitchen is a bigger mess than it was before. Now what? Change laundry again and start cleaning up the dirt, leaves and muck left from my plant project. Suppose I should do the dishes while I'm at it. Oh, yeah, and when I put the plants back I decided I'd probably be ahead of the game if I dusted where they went before I put them there - that led, naturally, to dusting everywhere. Now I have dishes done, plants done, laundry half done, and my floor is covered with leaves from one end to the other.

Vacuum. Yep. That's the ticket. Get the leaves up...and the dirt... oh, hell, the cat hair probably should be picked up too. Now I'm vacuuming everywhere. Including my closet. Oh, shit... how did all that stuff get piled up on the floor in my closet. Uh...I remember. I bought 'fat pants' and those are the 'skinny pants'. That other pile is the one I threw down as I was pulling things out to put in Em's care package. The pile over there is the dog-stuff that I've got stockpiled. Guess that stuff can go in the other room with all that stuff Em sent. Hey! I just found the Space Bags I got suckered into buying on sale at the drugstore about a month ago. Let's see if they work... hmmm..stuffing jeans in...so far so good. Pick up the bag...SHIT! I must have picked it up wrong, it came unzipped and half the load ends up on the floor. Start over. This time it works. Interesting... Well, I'm on a roll and have another one. Let's put away some summer stuff, doubt it's going to be warm enough to wear it again this year. Cool! That made some room! I can actually see the floor in my closet. I suppose I'll finish vacuuming in there...

The towels are clean and just out of the dryer. So are the bathroom rugs. I've just vacuumed the bathroom floors. What the hell, suppose I should clean the bathrooms...

The kitchen is so clean I'm inspired to mess it up. I think I'll make something. It's cold out. Hubby will probably come home starving. Let's see.... Chili! Yeah! We haven't had that for awhile.

The house is clean. The laundry is clean and put away. The pups have been out and in and are having thier supper. The other animals have been cared for. I am a disaster, but will take a shower when Hubby gets home and I'm sure I won't have to go to the field for anything. I am tired, but satisfied. Now if I could be assured this would all stay this way for a day or two... at least it should stay a little bit longer than when I had four little kids at home!

Tomorrow I'll be at work wishing I'd just said to hell with it and had a jammie day today...

This and That

YS came in third in the last race of 2005. I think everyone is ready for it to end. Hubby was stressing today because he's had combine trouble for a couple of days and it's taken him four days to combine one field. He's not very happy and has been a "grump-ass" (YS's term). I, unfortunatly, am caught in-between. I can see both sides to the situation and I'm glad racing is over now, too, 'cause really harvest is a priority.

While the racers were gone, I went to see "Serenity"! I liked it, very much. I won't get into it here yet until you've all seen it, but there were some surprises. I'll leave it at that.

SIL and a friend called this morning and asked if they could spend the night at our house. No problem at all, except now it's late and I'm hoping they did some other things before coming to our house. I figure he called his wife when they got to town, so I won't worry about them. She had to stay home and work. Bummer.

That's about it for the night... awfully boring, wasn't it?

Oh, and btw, balcap at Front Porch (see link below or on the list) is actually my oldest son! Just in case you want to stop by and tell him "mom says hi"...

Spoiled? Moi?

Yes. I admit it. I am. I'm so hooked on reading those blogs over there ---> that I've put some of my other reading off. That's fine, except I use my laptop to read those blogs -----> and the past couple of days I haven't had my laptop. If you recall a couple of posts ago, I told you the tale of DIL2B and her computer woes. So, being the good mother-in-law-2-b, I had loaned her my laptop.

No biggie, right?

Alas! I forgot about all those blogs over there ----> and how was I going to get my daily fix? (Silly woman, I hear you saying...you have a desktop computer, too, don't you? I'm just sure we heard you mention it before...) Yes, in all practicality I do have a desktop computer. There's just one thing wrong with reading those blogs -----> on it. Hubby.

My husband is a computer junkie. If you ask him, he'll deny it. You be the judge. He walks in the house (no matter what time it is) and goes straight for the office. He gets on the internet for at least 30 minutes. He'll go take a shower, get something to eat, watch a little TV while he eats (we are extremely informal here). Then, without ever turning off the TV, he slinks away to the office again. I usually don't know exactly when he goes, because I'm in all likelihood holed up in the bedroom or the downstairs watching something else on TV and eating my supper. We rarely watch TV together - he likes all those car races, football games, and watching the same movies over and over and over (I don't even want to guess how many times he's seen "Top Gun" or "Hunt for Red October"). Plus, he has that ever-dreaded-mind-numbing-male-disease channel surfing. Uh huh. You may have it in your household... it may even be you... you know who you are.

So, back to the addiction. He slips off to the office, but leaves the TV on so I really don't know when he goes or when he comes back, but should I happen to wander through the room, everything is on and no one is there.

Sometime before he comes to bed, he must get online once more.

If he happens to be home on a weekend, he can slip back and forth several times between channel clicks.

Is he carrying on a secret life? Is he perusing porn? Is he an addict? No.No.Yes. The man has to check the grain markets. He has to go on bulletin boards like Ag Online and find out what other farmers are thinking. What the so-called professionals are saying. What the weather is going to do or is doing. Yes, it is business related... to a point. After that, it becomes an addiction. Oh, and he also has some site he has to follow up sons' racing to see what other people are saying about him and his car and whatever happened last weekend.

So, you wonder why I need my laptop? So we can both be online at the same time and I can read those blogs ----> without being kicked out of my chair because Hubby has to get online.

The good news? I fixed her computer last night and got my laptop back. I'll be coming by to check on you soon. You know, you -----> over there.

Pull Up a Chair, I'll Tell You a Story

I'm only gonna tell this one once. No "Friday Flashback" for this story, so you'd better pay attention the first time - just 'cause it's so DAMN embarrassing. It would be more embarrassing, except it happened about... uh... how old are you, Em? Oh, yeah... about 24 years ago.

I was pregnant with no.3 (yes, Em). I'm very very good when I'm pregnant. No drinking, no drugs (not even the legal kind). I'd been good for 9 months and more - at least two more. Hubby and I decide to go out with friends. Normally, if Hubby and I go out we can tell which one of us is getting the alcohol buzz first and the other one backs off so they can drive. Any more, I barely drink unless I'm in one place and not going anywhere else, so I'm usually the driver. However, at this time I was really ready to be drinking. I had been off the booze for so long I'd forgotten how it would effect me if a.) I didn't eat b.) was in a very good mood and c.) it was going down like water. Uh huh. Not a good thing in hindsight, but we don't usually pay attention to that at the time, do we Sizzle?

We were in this little town near where we live at a local dive hot spot having fun, playing pool, laughing, you know, the usual. Next thing I know I'm opening my eyes - blindly looking around what I realize is my bedroom, and thinking "How in the hell did I get HERE?"

I turn over and there is Hubby with a beautific smile on his face. Just smiling. Not saying a word. Now, if you know my husband, you know that is not a typical thing for him to do. He knows something. This is clear. I don't know what, but it's gonna be good.

My head hurts. Why does my head hurt? Duh, you're thinking... but, wait! There's more! It's hurting on the outside! WTF? What is this lump on my head? Okay, I can't wait. Hubby better spill... The story goes like this (his version).

We were leaving the bar in the little town with the ultra alert local sheriff who likes to follow people from bars and give them sobriety tests. We really don't want him to see us leaving the bar... we want to hurry and leave. Only Susan (we'll call her that for the purposes of our story) didn't want to hurry. So, Hubby gives her a little boost into the drivers' seat of the pickup. Then tells her to "move over". Wasn't gonna happen. What's a guy to do? Give the little wifey a push - just a nudge, really - then watch her sliiiiiide off the seat head-first into the passenger side floorboards. Does he help her up? No. He leaves her there. For fifteen miles. Head-down. Feet up. Nice.

Home. Hubby goes in the house to talk to the ultra-conservative married couple college student babysitters. He tells them his wife didn't come home. Oh, yes. We're making impressions right and left! (Come to think of it, I don't think they ever did come back.) They leave, and he finally comes out to the garage, to the pickup, to help get her in the house. That was how she got the bump on her head, huh?

Oh, maybe not. See, he had a little trouble getting her into the house and up the steps and into bed. She's a big woman, not some little thing he can just throw over his shoulder. No, he grabs her by the back of her shirt collar and the back of her belt and more-or-less guides her down the hallways and up the stairs and through the house. Did I mention swaying back and forth between the walls, possibly banging into one or two on the way? Yep. Where's the camera when you need it?

Finally, she's in bed. Whew! ...... Oh, NO! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! She's got her contacts in! This, my lovelies was during the time known as "PRE-SOFT-CONTACT" lenses. Hubby, not knowing what to do, but knowing you don't leave them in your eyes overnight without serious repercussions, proceeds to thump wifey on the back of the head to the tune of "TAKE YOUR EYES OUT, DAMNIT!" Having no idea how he (or she) did it, the fact that she woke up blind the next morning was a testiment to success.

To this day, I can not remember any of this. If I didn't love him and trust him so much, I'd think he made it up to blackmail and humiliate me for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I fear it must all be true.

Now, kids? Aren't ya proud of your ma? Oh, Sizzle, you had to get me started on this one...

Friday Links

Inky from Surviving Inky - Check out this gals other blog and her artwork! Really cute! Talented person...for sure.

100 Reasons Why I Hate My Husband - A rather dark blog, but interesting to get a peek inside another life.

I Can't Even Float In Water This Deep - Out of Character - I'm just catching up on this one...Entertaining so far!

Moody Mama - I found this lady through Amy at "Comments from the Peanut Gallery". More good family stuff!

Lisa at Desert Daze of My Life - Great Minds Think Alike! She actually found me on another blog we like, cw's "Witt and Wisdom". I'm still catching up on hers, too, but I like what I've seen.

Finally, may I present, balcap at Front Step. Another beginner, with major potential.

As always, check them out if you don't know 'em already - and tell them Sue sent me. Wait for it... yep...Sue who? Sorry - I'm pathetic. It never gets old.

Friday Flashback

Originally Posted 9/29/04
There's a Fly In My Soup

From time to time I am going to vent in this blog. If you don't like violence, bad language and are not allowed into PG-14 movies, leave now. I mean it. Go away. I'm pissed. As I've previously announced, I'm an only child. This is a curse and a blessing. More often a blessing. I wonder aloud many times what I have done giving my children siblings. Will they grow up and hate each other? So far I've not seen that side of things. They may have shown signs of wanting to kill each other when they were young, but they have seemed to grow out of it and at this point in time are getting along. Rather well, if I do say so myself. I am just the mom, tho', so it's possible they are holding long-term grudges that I will know nothing about until I'm long cold in the grave.

This brings me to my brother-in-law and his family. Part of me wouldn't be so bitter toward his parenting skills except when our children where young and he and his wife had none, they were always quick to judge our children. Quick to jump in with a scolding or to scowl when a misbehaving two-year-old had to be taken outside the restaurant and allowed to walk off some of that energy. Now they are the perfect parents. Ask them. They'll tell you.

I have many stories to prove my theory that their two boys are the spawn of the devil, but today we'll just regale you with one such story.First you must know the background. My Hubby is a farmer. He's been a farmer his whole life - without a choice. He was drafted into military service back when there was still a draft, and before he went in he helped on his familys' farm, and when he returned after serving his four years there was never any question that he would be helping on the farm again. It wasn't even brought up - it was expected. He is the oldest of three children and his sister, although just a couple of years younger, was treated very differently. That's a whole 'nother story.His brother, six years junior, was far enough behind in age that he really never got into the whole farm thing growing up. By the time he was old enough to help, Hubby was back on the scene and between him and his father they had it covered.

Fast forward to about 10 years ago when FIL passed away. Hubby took over the farm operation and proceeded to do pretty well with it. MIL often talks about how BIL never got the chance to farm. BIL is living in la-la land. He thinks farming is coming out to work at 8:30 in the morning and leaving at 1:00 to 'pick up the boys'. Or do this or that. There is always something. His wife is a great list maker and runs the family with an iron fist. He is a bit of a pussy and just lets her order him around. (I never have, nor will I ever make what is commonly known in these parts as a 'Honey-Do' list.)

BIL has two boys that are now 9 and 15. They are indescribable (is that a word?).BIL has been pushing the oldest one toward farming since he was born. Buys him toy farm equipment at every chance, lets him do things way younger than is smart or safe. Sees our kids doing that stuff and figures if they can do it, then his kids can. He forgets his kids are 7 years younger than our youngest! Plus, our kids were raised around this stuff and taught from an early age to fear that equipment and to respect it. His kids just act like coming to the farm is going to Disneyland - without the parental supervision.

You have to understand. My BIL thinks he is paying attention to what he's doing and to his kids. He hasn't a clue.A couple of weeks ago the older boy called up Hubby and proceeded to tell him he is in FFA (Future Farmers of America to you city-folk) and they have a project to work for a farmer. Hubby says 'no', as he can't drive, didn't want to have to pay him, and really didn't want him around to have to keep an eye on him when there is nothing for him to do. Wouldn't trust him to run any equipment, etc. You get the picture.

Today. BIL was off work from his 'real' job and came out to help Hubby combine corn. The boys' school got out at 1:00. Older boy was at home watching his little brother. He supposedly found out that BIL was in the field and got so mad that he had a hissy fit and threw a hammer through the garage door (which prompted SIL to get off work and take him out to the field where...duh...he wanted to be in the first place). He then was allowed, by BIL, to hang out until about 3:30 when BIL had to go home because "No.2 son is home by himself". HUH?

So, the way I understand it, Boy throws a temper tantrum and gets rewarded by a.) getting out of the reponsibility of watching his brother b.) getting to go to the farm just as he wanted to c.) causing Dad to leave work early to go home and do the job he was supposed to do. Hubby made some comment to BIL about it and was told "Boy's in trouble now!" Ooookkkaaaayyy... if you say so.Family. Gotta love em. I mean, you really have to. It's written somewhere.

See the FREAK!

Once again I have shown my freakishness....

Co-worker is wandering around the office looking for his "favorite" pen. The one he swore he just had. He's looking everywhere.

I walk out of my office space and go to the counter where the pumpkin dessert has been sitting for three days. The pen is tucked out of sight between the dessert and the coffeemaker.

I don't eat dessert that's been sitting out for three days.
I don't drink coffee.
I had no reason to even think that pen would be there.

Yep. I'm that good.

Wish that talent would make me money!... Oh, and remember... it doesn't work for ME.

Taking a Vote

Just wondering... I've only been at this a little over a year, but is it too soon to start Flashback Friday? It seems I've met so many people lately who haven't (or won't) take the time to read archives (FYI: I always try to read archives - it helps me to get to know you!). Would it bore you to death if I re-ran some early stuff or should I just keep plugging away and let those who will go back on their own? Feel free to give me your opinion...

Wednesday Night in the Country

Ah, yes... a quiet night in the country... NOT.

I no more than get home from work, put some supper in the oven, and start to fiddle with my new fax machine/phone/answering machine super combo, when my cell phone rings. It's youngest son. DIL2B is having fits with her laptop. She has some serious homework that has to be done tonight. This is her birthday (which I knew) but she can't celebrate because of this serious homework. She's been trying to get it to work for an hour and she hasn't been able to type one word.

Never fear... Super Mom is here! (Shaddup - I can pretend, can't I?)

They only live 2 miles away, so I go out and jump in my trusty steed and gallop off to the rescue. (Geez...okay, I get into my Tahoe and drive. Happy? Whose fantasy is this, anyway?)

I mess with it for a bit. This isn't good. Hate to say it, but it's looking like a virus to me. Being the good and generous mom I am, I offer her my laptop to use until I have time to fix hers. Home to get the laptop. Back to her house. Get her dial-up internet set up on the computer. TRY to hook up her printer. No disk. No drivers. Check the internet. It's going to take HOW long on dial-up? Sheesh. Home again. Download drivers in 2 minutes. Burn to CD. Go back to her house. Load drivers. Play a bit - hmmm... doesn't seem to be working. Oh, wait. Exactly. Wait. I wait long enough, it's working. I'm too impatient and am used to things moving much faster than this.

She's up and running.

Home. Again. 8 o'clock. Dinner is ready. Fax machine/phone/answering machine is gonna have to wait. "Lost" is waiting.

Tonight we're supposed to do something "surprising" for her birthday. Her parents wanted to surprise her, but YS thought maybe it would be a good thing to mention it to her since her stress levels are extremely high right now with school. So, we're all going to act like she didn't know so her parents will be happy. The things we do... I hope tonight is much quieter.

Lime?

I work in a fertilizer plant. Potash, DAP, Lime. The three I deal with primarily. I made up a form that I sent to the various plant managers to request the products needed from me. The form lists all three products. Today I get a phone call:

Plant manager: Do I use these GPS call sheets if I want to request lime?
Me: Yes.
PM: How?
Me: Check the box that says "LIME"

They make HOW much more money than I do?

Idiot Sightings

I stole this from Cait and Miko, (but they said I could). Go over and see 'em sometime and tell 'em Sue sent me....

IDIOT SIGHTING: I live in a semi-rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the Deer Crossing sign on our road. The reason: "too many deer were being hit by cars" and he didn't want them to cross there anymore.

IDIOT SIGHTING: This one was from Kingman, KS. My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for "minimal lettuce." He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg. And he was a Kansas City chef!

IDIOT SIGHTING: I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge? To which I replied, "If it was without my knowledge, how would I know? He smiled knowingly and nodded, "That's why we ask." Happened in Birmingham, Ala.

IDIOT SIGHTING: The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine when she asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?!" She was a probation officer in Wichita, KS

IDIOT SIGHTING: At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who was leaving the company due to "downsizing," our manager commented cheerfully, "this is fun. We should do this more often." Not a word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare. This was a bunch at Texas Instruments.

IDIOT SIGHTING: I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the life of her couldn't understand why her system would not turn on. A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriff's office no less.

IDIOT SIGHTING: When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver's side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. "Hey," I announced to the technician, "it's open!" To which he replied,"I know - I already got that side." This was at the Ford dealership in Canton, Mississippi!

Can you believe this???

Dear Mother Nature

I love you dearly, but are you PMS-ing, by any chance? I'm just not quite sure what's been up with you lately. You used to be so predictable, when I was a kid. Every year we were guaranteed to have at least a foot of snow by Christmas that would last through March. Spring would come with gradual warming and buds on trees. Birds would come back that had vacationed in the south all winter. Summer tiptoed in then blasted us with wicked stickey heat and humidity going hand-in-hand with the State Fair in August. Fall snuck in while we were buying our school supplies and we knew the swimming pool would be closed but we didn't mind, as the days were getting cooler and it wasn't so much swimming weather anymore after all. The days gradually began with frost here and there... then it became a morning ritual to heat up the car before you had to go anywhere. The sweaters turned into parkas and mittens and scarves and boots and we were back into winter.

We won't even get into the hurricanes and tsunaimis and various calamitys you've been causing. I'm convinced those are indications of your aging. You're beginning to have seizures and spasms and forgetting where you put the bad stuff, so you're letting it get a little closer than usual. Instead of heading up the coast, out far enough that it won't hurt anyone but maybe give a little needed rain, then going on out to sea, you're having brain farts and forgetting to turn them in time. It can be forgiven, but only for a short time. You really need to be getting that checked out.

I'm concerned about the recent winters that have been dry... no snow until after the New Year, and sometimes not much then! The days have been fluctuating wildly the past weeks. Yesterday, it was almost 90 degrees here! Now, today, the high is supposed to be 67... and tomorrow 57...! We've had frost already, a couple of nights last week. We turned on the fireplace those cool nights. Yesterday, I had to turn the air conditioner back on because we sweltered the night before!

I understand you've been under a lot of pressure. Not everyone is complaining about the lack of snow, or where you put the rain... but I really wish you'd get a little more regular. Hormone therapy, perhaps? Just a suggestion from a concerned fan.

SHE DID IT!

OMG! She linked me! Whoot!

I AM a cool kid!

Okay, sorry... back to the same old geek. I just love you guys!

My Assignment

This is my picture (from about two years ago). I really don't like to have my picture taken as such I have no "silly" pic to share... this was Jules' idea, folks. Go talk to her about it. It's an assignment. So, I got it done early... I'm funny like that.

Do with it what you will... blow it up and throw darts... I don't care. Just don't put it up in the post office, 'kay?

Dear Co-Worker

Are we having fun yet? No. Definately not.

Why?

Because you are a blithering idiot.

I created a request form for you to use this fall. I sent it to you with explicit instructions in July. I sent it again in August and told you to start using it. You call me in September... what form? I re-send it to you. Oh... that's what that was. Yes.

Now you send it to me by e-mail. Fine. I no more than start processing the job when you send me the same information by fax. Oh, no, wait a minute - you've asked for different things. Hmmm... Not only that, but the form is incomplete. I can tell you rushed through it, leaving off many pieces of information I need to process this job. Remember? This is the stuff I ask you every time you call (for the last five years)? Now you get to fill it out yourself instead of me asking, you standing there with your thumb up your butt, and having to make me look it up - wasting more of the precious time that you seem to fill up nicely with menial repetative tasks.

Now, don't take this wrong, but I understand you're a man. Men hate these kinds of things. That's what they think God put women on the planet for. That's what your wife is for. She likes to do things for you so you don't have to strain that brilliant mind. Wouldn't want you to be too tired out to hold up that remote tonight, would we?

I'm not your wife. I'm not your servant. I'm certainly not your underling. Now get off your ass and do it right the first time, please.

Looking forward to winter.

I Interrupt This Blog for a Message

Would "Neil" (if that is your name) who sent me an e-mail that I couldn't reply to please send me another one that I can reply to so I can figure out what you were trying to tell me? Geez, I hate when that happens!

Thank you. Please resume your regular reading.

Foot in Mouth (Again)

Oh, dear. I've done it again. Foot in mouth disease. (Yes, kiddies, it IS hereditary...) I SO appreciate everyone's support in my last...uh...awkward... post. I wasn't trying to overthink it, Manda, nor was I really begging for all you lovely people to support me, but, ::choking up:: you DO like me! You really LIKE me! (Happy, Em?)

(Director - this isn't the REAL academy awards. You will not be recieving bribe money. Oh, wait, maybe there is some out there...among the SNIPE... mwhaaa haa haa)

I truly wasn't insinuating that you all were NOT the cool kids. Oh, NO... I happen to think you are all incredibly cool! I'm so awed and shocked (shocked and awed?) that you come to my little corner of the world and visit, I can barely repress my glee!! (Note to self - Don't use the word 'glee' unless you want everyone to think you're 87 years old.)

So whose attention was I trying to gain? I'm not even trying to get Heather's attention, as we all know she's fabulous and very famous! Fresh? Aw...okay, maybe just a little...but I realize he and I are not on the same wavelength. Me being of the long post he hates and he of the short but purposeful and incredibly funny. (A lot of what is so funny on his is the responses he gets from his faithful band of commentators!) I'm not going to tell, because that would just get me so embarrassed I wouldn't be able to show my face around here again... Well, maybe I'll just whisper it to one person who will (should) know who I mean... Siz, I'm talkin' about that co-worker of yours! There. I've said it. I've shot it out into space and we'll see if the arrow hits it's mark.

Big hugs out to all of you who come by to visit. It is, after all, just a blog...and you guys do make me feel like one of the cool kids!