End of the Month Panic

Can you believe this is the end of November? I sure can't... I think this year I feel more dis-organized than I ever have. Is that possible? Is that one of the things that go along with CRS (can't remember shit) and EITTS (everything I touch turns to shit)? Part of getting old? I used to be the most organized person you ever saw. Not anal, mind you, just organized. I could tell you within seconds exactly where something was that had come in the mail three weeks earlier. I could tell you where your favorite pair of sleeping shorts were or where you last left your shoes. (Okay, not YOU, maybe, but people in my household. Shaddup.)

Now? Now my brain is turning to mush. Some friends had given Hubby checks for minor car repair things back in September. The other day one of them finally mentioned to him that it hadn't come through the bank yet. WTF? I never ever let something like that sit around - at least not for months! Sure enough. I found them tucked under the bank deposit book where I'd be sure not to forget about them.

I realize Christmas is just around the corner - as well as several family birthdays. Am I ready? Hell no. Do I even have ideas? I barely have a mind at the moment, let alone creativity. Oh, and for you who are wondering, NO I have not put up my Christmas decorations. I need a break from work to get caught up... and a wife.

FOUND!

Linus is home safe... thanks everybody for thinking of him! Boy, we sure are a bunch of softies, aren't we?

Linus is Missing!

If you live in the Chicago area and see this little guy, his name is Linus and he belongs to Amy, one of our blogging buddies. Please see if we can get him home safely!

Tickle Me... NOT

Don't you hate it when you get a tickle in your throat that won't go away and you cough your fool head off until you think your brain is going to spew out of your eyeballs and you can't stop crying / coughing / peeing your pants to save your life? Yeah. It's like that. Damn.

Back to the Feeding Frenzy

Yes, I'm back at work. I dreaded even opening my e-mail this morning, and with good cause. I didn't even look at the count... it was too scary. I've been here since 6 a.m. and I'm just now seeing the top of my desk peeking out.

Thank you everyone who sent well wishes. No, you weren't going crazy... I cheated and posted a bunch at once. Kept putting them in draft thinking I was going to add to them, but never got to it. I'll try not to do that too often. I know it messes some of you up...

It's still gloomy here today. Talking some snow tonight and a slight chance the rest of the week. Wish I could just stay home and do more jammie days, but alas! I'm gonna have to wait until we get "measurable snow" to do that.

Probably is gonna take me awhile to catch up with you all. Will hopefully get to it soon... I've missed you!

It's A LIttle Dreary

...here in the neighborhood. I've sat by the fire today, reading, not doing much of anything except taking the pups out to get muddy every few hours. I hear the forecast is calling for heavy rain later on and possible snow tomorrow.

Feeling rather worthless the past few days. Maybe I'll get some energy together soon. I do have a few things that need to be done. Work tomorrow. That's gonna be fun. Let's see, I was gone Tuesday and Wednesday, cleaning and cooking, Thursday for Thanksgiving, and Friday sick. I'll just about bet they've reached the end of their ropes by now and have been hounding my 'backup' like the hounds of hell.

Somehow, at this moment, I just don't care.

Alive but Weak

Yep, that's me. Hope to catch up with you all soon.

At Least It Waited...

I'm sick. Sit-next-to-the-toilet sick. Thank God it wasn't yesterday. I was supposed to work today. The first guy who says I skipped work to go shopping today gets it.

Bless Us Everyone

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

What a wonderful day it has been. I can't hardly move, but that's what you're supposed to do, right? Stuff yourselves until you can't then wait an hour and have dessert, then a couple more hours and start all over again with sandwiches! Even tho' I was the cook, I must say my birds came out wonderful this year... moist and tender. I'm so thrilled! Made for such yumminess. This year, after threats of not one more chance, my corn casserole even got done when it was supposed to. Miracle, believe me!

Bad news was, family friends who were coming called and were sick. She had flu, he had a bad cold. That was bad... I was looking forward to seeing them and I felt badly for them that they were ill. I didn't even take them leftovers as it sounded as though they weren't keeping much down.

Good news was, everyone else made it. The weather held out and my parents were here, my MIL came, and all my kids and their significant others were in force, except Em's hubby who was out of state on a hiking expedition with friends. We missed him, but are sure to see him at Christmastime - plus I know he had fun.

Hope you and yours were all blessed this year with plenty ot eat, warm shelter, and loved ones near.

Anyone Need a Cowboy?

I swear, after yesterday's cleaning frenzy, today I can barely walk. This is no lie... I'm walkin' like a cowboy right off the horse! Why? No clue. I didn't do a thing that would cause my inner thigh muscles to be seizing up, except possibly going up and downstairs several times. I also am having a bit of a time standing up straight. Oh, well.. all the better to check the turkey in the oven, huh?

Today is cooking day. Em got off late last night and decided to come this morning, so I've had time to myself. I've made pumpkin bread(s) and coffee cake (my grandmother's family recipe) and I've gotten one turkey in the oven and another in the roaster. Now I just need to wait for her to appear.

Update: She didn't get here until late, but she made it!!! I'm so tickled. This is the best part of the holidays, getting to see all the kids. Bug got a haircut... what a cutie. Hope she posts a picture of her on her site.

We've decided to go to the movie RENT after the turkeys are carved and safely put away for the night. Looking forward to that! Love love love the play.

Oh My Achin' Back

I have cleaned more today than I have cleaned this house in the year and a half that we have lived here. Hubby can't believe all the garbage he has hauled out to the dumpster. I can't believe the lengths I have gone to when it is just family coming. I have truly outdone myself. I mean, I cleaned out the refrigerator(s), the pantry cabinets, the spare beds have had their sheets washed and have been remaid, I have hung pictures, I have changed cat litter boxes (3), I have even resorted to washing rugs. I tell ya, I'm officially POOPED.

Does Anyone Have a Kleenex?

A co-worker and his wife went to a large retail place to get a few things they needed to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for their families. As they are checking out, the cashier starts hacking her lungs out.

Wife: Are you okay?
Cashier: Yeah, I went to the doctor. I have pneumonia.
Wife: Are you taking anything for it?
Cashier: Yeah. I took medicine yesterday, but I'm sure I'm still contageous.

She's hacking all over them the whole time, without covering her mouth.

They went home and put everything they bought in the dishwasher.... and showered.

Tagged!

Grumpy Bunny got me with this meme (I'm a little late...)

1.) Do you use an alarm clock to wake up in the morning?
Nope. I have two shih tzu puppies that have an uncanny sense of morning... even when it's not yet.

2.) What time do you set it for?
They usually go off between 4-5 a.m. Occasionally 3:30, rarely 6:00.

3.) Do you hit the snooze button? If so, how many times.
When they are awake at 3:30, I try to suggest they go back to sleep for awhile. Sometimes it works... sometimes it doesn't. I never hit them.

4.) Have you ever abused an alarm clock?
Never. I promise.

5.) It's time to spread some Blogcess linky love? ... Okay, I don't get this either, but GB wasn't clear...

I tag: Sizzle, Livey, Beckett, Director (I want to see HIS side of the story) and Michael

Dear Co-Workers

I've taken it upon myself to send you all an e-mail detailing my complete and utter irritation with you at this point in time. Why? Because today I received my third client call this fall. Three doesn't sound like much, except I'm not supposed to receive one. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I don't talk to the clients. Never. Ever.

I am a tool. (Yes, you can laugh at my expense if you feel so inclined...) I am no different than the computer I run. I am here to be the technician behind the scenes. That being the key phrase here. Behind the scenes.

If a client wants his data transferred to another company, you deal with them and give me the okay to do this. If a client wants to know what we have for them on file, you ask me and then report to them. If a client wants a report, you call me and I will gladly produce the report and send it either directly to them or to you.

At no point in any transaction should I be speaking with or dealing with a client. You are the salesmen. You are the contact person. You are their helpful dealer. I am the tool. Remember that. We'll get along a lot better.

There Needs to be a Law

I apologize to any of you who are good lawyers. I realize there really is such a thing. I actualy know one or two. Unfortunately, more often than not we hear the bad stories... we've heard what poor Livey has gone through with all her troubles, and now it's hit closer to home.

Youngest son, his girlfriend, a close friend of his and his date went to the 'big city' last night. The friend was driving. After dinner, they were pulled over by the police. Evidently the plates were run, as they do, and the next thing they knew the driver was being arrested. Why? Because he missed a court date he never knew he had.

A few weeks ago he'd gotten a DWI. I'm not saying that's a good thing. It's not. It's not good at all and I'm glad he got a ticket and there was no accident caused and no one was hurt. He hired a lawyer, and was going to fight the ticket. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but he evidently had a case. At any rate, he'd given the lawyer a hefty retainer and all was going to be taken care of.

What happens? The kid gets a letter from his lawyer saying they had a court date, but the kid doesn't get it until after the date! He can't get ahold of the lawyer, and now...bingo! He's in jail for failure to appear. $10,000 bail. Can you believe it? Of course, on a Sunday when you can't get a cashiers check or cash for bail... and who wants to hand over $1000 to a bail bondsman only to get pissed away just to get out 24 hours sooner? I'm sorry, that's cracked!

His parents gave up on him along time ago, so guess we're going to try and help him out. Hubby's on the warpath to find this lawyer and be sure a complaint gets turned into the powers that be about this guy. Can you imagine? The very guy you are supposed to have on your side is the one that causes you to be where you are. As Hubby says, in this day and age of cell phones (yes, the kid has one) there is no excuse for this lawyer not to have gotten in touch with him and let him know about his court date. Then, you get put into the jail and 1) you can make as many calls as you want but 2) it's a payphone and they've taken away all your money. Think on that one... nuts, huh?

Oh, hell... I'm thankful it's not my kid, but still... I really feel for the kid. He's a good kid and certainly didn't need this...

Because You WERE Wondering

...about the party. I heard you mumbling to yourself as you clicked onto the site. What? No update yet? Has she even gotten HOME from this party? Maybe she was kidnapped and they forced her to eat gizzards and rocky-mountain-oysters and chug beer until she puked! D'you suppose??

Almost.

We were one of the first ones there. I wasn't drinking alcohol. I was the dd and needed to keep whatever wits I have left about me so the 'bad Sue' didn't rear her ugly head. Hubby was a doll. He stayed with me until a woman I knew fairly well came and talked to me and kept me company most of the evening - and she really didn't want to be there either. Whew! Then, as things went on, one of my co-workers wives came to talk to me, too. Between those two and Hubby checking up on me about every fifteen minutes, I made it through.

They had lots of food - you think I'm kidding about the gizzards and rocky-mountain-oysters? Nope. They had lots worse... and better. I ate a bit, but wasn't really hungry, so just munched a bit. Then the music started and one of the twenty-somethings that was there decided to sing happy birthday to the host - off key - loudly - oh, my bleeding ears!!

I got some fashion tips. There was another twenty-something there with pink and lime green leather cowboy boots - handmade - ugly as sin. She was pretty proud of 'em, though. I saw guys who were there who weren't supposed to be with women that shouldn't have been let out of the house. I saw a woman couples who'd been divorced for years in the same room. Shocker. We didn't stay long enough for the drunk brawling or the blowing chunks in the back of the bushes, but we stayed long enough for both of us.

Hubby was a sweetheart. He had me home before 10. Of course, I swear they must have tried to poison me. At midnight I was experiencing projectile vomiting along with projectile...uh... other things. Someone brought this up one time and wondered how you handled the two distinct problems happening at the same time. Easy. You sit on the toilet with a garbage can on your lap and let it all out. Believe me, you feel twenty pounds lighter when you're done!

This morning I actually didn't feel all that bad, just tired. Didn't get a damn thing done today I was supposed to for Thanksgiving, but gee... what would it be without the panic-cleaning that involves shoving things in every unoccupied closet, slamming the door, and praying no one opens that particular one? Ah... I live for the excitement!

Discomfort 101

Hubby has a friend. If you've read The Dark Maddness recently, it's the friend I spoke of there. Yeah. Him. He's not a real close friend, but what I would call a close associate. Once a month or so, he has a party in his shop and it's a drop in type thing. Because he usually has it on a Thursday night, it isn't as though people stay all night and end up sloppy drunk. Sometimes Hubby goes for awhile, sometimes he doesn't. It is usually a bunch of the locals there who Hubby grew up with and he is a very "people person". I tease him and call him "Chatty Cathy"... for those of you old fogey's who can remember the doll.

Once a year, this friend has a birthday party in his shop. For himself. It's just a bigger version of the monthly get-together. Hubby will go, if he remembers. It's usually on a weekend, so that makes it a little easier to go and still do something the next day.

Me? I'm invited. Me? I don't go. Time to 'fess up. I really don't like people. I like some people. I love some people. For the most part, I'm very, very, uncomfortable around people. I've never been good at small talk. I don't like to eat around others (family doesn't count). I don't like to drink alcohol around others in fear of what inhibition might be set loose and which brain cell will suddenly decide to open my mouth and tell most of these people what I really think of them.

It isn't that I think I'm better than they are. Truly that's not it. I find their two-face game playing to be a bit much. I pretty much say what I think and if I can't, then I'm tongue-tied. Maybe it's the old "if you can't say something nice, say nothing at all"... or maybe not. This group divides into the males (guarding the keg) and the females (guarding the food). Most of these people grew up together. A good portion of them are related. Another goodly portion have kids the same ages that go to school together. Last, there are the oddballs. That would be me.

I'm one of the people who came from "outside". I'm "different". I'm not them. I don't care to criticize another woman's weight, dress, lifestyle, or parenting skills. I especially don't want to do it when she gets up from the table to go across the room for more adult beverages and/or food. Will they be talking about me when I get up? You betcha. Are they perfect specimens? Hell no. Doesn't matter.

This weekend is the friends' 50th birthday party celebration. Hubby has more or less begged me to go, promising we'll leave early if I do. He has been so kind to me for so many years, letting me off the hook and making excuses for me for not putting in an appearance. I've softened. I'll go. I'm not excited about it, but I'm not dreading it.... yet. I'm just numb. If I didn't love my husband so much, you can bet I wouldn't be doing this. Damn.

If nothing else, maybe it'll be good blog fodder. I'll go with that for awhile...

Friday Flashback

Originally Post November 11, 2004

Turkey Time

To most of you this means it's nearing Thanksgiving. To me, this means a little different thing. Our company distributes free turkey's to all of their customers who spent x-amount of dollars with the company this year. So, actually, it's not 'free' free, but it's a nice gesture. The only trouble is, it comes at our busiest time of year! This means, not only are the guys I work with stressing big-time about getting fertilizer on the fields, but now they are stressing about having to deliver thousands of turkeys (company-wide). Personally, I don't mind it...but then, I only deliver a few to the landlords and people that my husband farms with. It is a nice opportunity to touch base with these people and thank them for their support and business through the year - without asking them for money or having to pay them money - or having some stressful topic to have to discuss. Most people are surprised to be getting 'something for nothing', too. That doesn't happen often nowadays, either. So, next week we start the mad rush to deliver the birds... Hey, I get one, too! That just means it can't be long until Thanksgiving day...

Note: We are now in the thick of this in 2005 and I'm delivering turkey's tonight... I'd really rather be doing something else... oh, well... remember, I don't like people.

The Sound of Silence

Not what you think.
I've been having strangeness with my vehicle. I'll be driving down the road and suddenly all the electrical stuff in the truck will stop. Immediately. This includes the engine, all power "stuff" like brakes and steering, lights, flashers, turn signals... you name it. Very akward if you have just passed a semi-tractor right before it chooses to do this. Uh. Yep. Scary ain't the half of it. I just coasted to the side of the road, where, miraculously, my rig started right back up. Huh?

I'm no mechanic (but thank goodness I'm married to one) and he said he'd look at it.

Except, as of last night when I went to leave work, he hadn't had a chance to look at it yet. So, one of the guys at work had gone out to start everyones' vehicles to let them warm up. (Nice, aren't they?) I go out a few minutes later, get in my truck, put it in gear, start backing up, flip on the headlights and... wait for it... yeeessss... it dies. Deader 'an a hammer (one of Hubby's favorite phrases). Does it start back up? No. Thank goodness I'm still in the parking lot at work, not stranded on a road somewhere.

I call Hubby (yes, he's on speed dial). He comes. He looks. He takes me home and brings me back this morning with a new battery and other doo-dads. All fixed!! Yes!

Oh, and I'm having some weirdness with the computer at home. That's why I'm a little behind my blogging and/or reading blogs. Just in case you were wondering. If you weren't wondering, then disreguard this message...

The Happy Dance Will Now Commence

I just got a phone call. Youngest daughter will be able to come for TWO WHOLE DAYS over Thanksgiving. The Gods are smiling! WHOOT!!!

The Call of the Wild

Had an adventure this morning. Was out with the pups (at 3:45) and they were NOT wanting to come in. Cold, snowing, blowing... you name it... they love it. Finally, after 45 minutes Frieda was an ice cube - literally - and I put a towel around her, picked her up to bring her in. As I'm holding the door open for Frank to come in, Clio (the newest cat) runs OUT!! Oh, NO.

Now I'm chasing Frank chasing Clio. She goes under the front porch, so I get Frank inside and the pups put in their pen. Outside, I'm calling Clio and the pups hear me and start barking their fool heads off. I'm in slippers and p.j.'s, out in the snow calling "kitty -kitty". She sticks her head out from under the porch, but won't come out... then she takes off down the flower beds and down to the lower patio.

Me? Yes... I trudge along in the snow, still calling her. Then I lose the sound of her bell and can't see her. I go inside and shush the pups and tell Hubby - now wide awake - what's going on. He looks out and says Clio is standing out on the back porch looking in the window. I go to let her in the back door, and Hubby has already let her in the bedroom slider. Stinker.

Of course, I'm now wide awake and chilled to the bone. Went back to bed and didn't make it to work until 9 o'clock! Arrrggghhh... good thing I don't punch a timeclock!

Don't these critters know it's COLD outside. It's SNOWING. It's WINDY. It's not fun? Okay, maybe for them, but certainly not for me!

Double Whammy

No, this is not our backyard. Not yet, anyway... It's coming, however (if you believe the forecast). Two-five inches predicted later today and tonight with 50 mph winds coming tonight. Basically, your typical Iowa blizzard.

I'm ready.

Except... I feel sorry for the poor people who just got hit with the tornado, now to add insult to injury, they've got to try and clean up and find their remaining possessions in this? I hope for their sakes it isn't as bad as the weather folk are predicting.

However, if you believe Andy... God hates Iowa. Naw... I can't believe that one. I'm at work. For now. Hubby offered to take me to work this morning, then realized if I was stranded at work without a vehicle I couldn't take off when I want to. I do have four-wheel-drive, so I'll probably be here most of the day, but may try to leave before dark for a change. Just makes it a tad bit easier to see when the snow is flying...

Stay safe, all you midwesterners!

Saturday Excitement

Remember how my eldest daughter likes storms? Remember how she was asking for some "exciting weather" on Saturday afternoon? Believe me... she got it. At least, WE got it.

This is a picture taken of the tornado that touched down northeast of us. Someone took this picture from the northest suburb of Ames. The tornado started there and touched down several places on the way through the little burg of Gilbert that is northeast of Ames. I heard a short time ago that there was a house destroyed, but no lives lost. There were several sheds lost and some power lines down and some grain bins damaged, but it could have been much, much worse.

In fact, there were a couple of other little towns here in central Iowa that got hit with F-3 tornadoes. Woodward and Stratford. They had some major damage, and I heard an 80-year-old woman was crushed in her basement in Stratford. Last night they were evacuating lots of Stratford due to so many houses being knocked off their foundations and gas leaks being prevalent.

My story? I got off work at noon and went to to Critterland with a friend - about 40 miles away. It was raining off and on, but nothing bad. Hubby kept saying he was hearing "the worst is yet to come". Home by 4 o'clock, I got a call from Hubby a bit before 5 saying he needed a ride from the shop to the field where his pickup was. It was still cloudy and spitting rain, but no big deal. I went and picked him up, then remembered we were about out of milk... let's go to Gilbert to the Caseys' and get some. We drove up, got our milk, and I took him a short ways to get his truck.

As we were leaving Casey's, our youngest son called to say he was out of town and he'd just heard we were under a tornado warning... there was one heading for Gilbert... could we stop by his house and make sure stuff was put away and doors closed, etc.

It started pouring. I mean, really dumping. We were heading to our son's house - just a couple of miles from ours. I could barely see when it started hailing... oh, no! I tried to call Hubby to tell him to stop at some friends' he would be going by - to put his pickup inside so he wouldn't get dents. No luck. His phone was busy.

I went about a mile through the hail. The wind was blowing. My truck was rocking. I had the radio on and it suddenly came on that there was a confirmed tornado northeast of Ames, moving northeast at 33 mph heading right for the small towns of McCallsburg and Roland... right toward our eldest daughter!

I get on the phone to call my eldest. "Are you in the basement?". "No", she replied. She hadn't heard the weather. I told her she was under a tornado warning - or soon would be. I hung up and focused on my driving.

I'm coming up a big hill near my son's house. I come out of the heavy rain and hail and look to the east... OMG... it's a tornado! Across the field, I see this rope-like tornado... on the ground... the first I've ever seen "live". I'm driving and watching - only a few feet more to my son's. I pull in the drive and a couple of his friends are there in the yard watching the same thing. It was on the ground a short time, then bounced back up, then came back down a couple of times. Wow. Just wow.

Hubby comes up behind. He'd been witness to a F-5 tornado back in the 1970's that took out a small down in our area and had done tons of damage. He says, "that wasn't much of a tornado"... but it was enough to scare the poo out of those boys and I!!

What do we do? Why, what every good Iowan does... load all up in the pickup and start driving around to see what damage has been done - and to be sure all our stuff is okay. Don't ask. I don't know if it's just an Iowan thing, a farmer thing, or our family's thing, but it's one of those things we do. Ask Em. She remembers. From the amount of traffic on the road, I would guess that we are not the only ones.

We see some sheriff cars, lights blazing, come screaming past us... but we are cool, we don't follow. We just drive around and check out our own. We didn't see anything at that time, but Hubby and the "farmer's network" were on the phonelines as soon as we got home and then the damage reports started coming in. Some folks we knew lost sheds, power lines down, and the biggest shock of all - the tornado had gone right past the Casey's about 5 minutes after we'd been there. If ... if... you think... geez... if I'd stumbled around and gotten something besides the milk... if... we could have been right in the middle of that. Mind-boggling. Seriously.

Today was clean-up for some. The wind has still been gusting to 50-some mph today, so it was pretty difficult to clean up. I think most will be done tomorrow. I know they were working on getting the power lines back up in Gilbert, and you couldn't get through from one side to the other. The towns of Woodward and Stratford were much, much worse... but for us? It doesn't seem so real to just see the video on tv. It's real when you see it in your own 'backyard'.

It's November. This isn't tornado season. This is very weird. It was interesting to see. Now I can check that off my "to do before I die" list... and move on. No more. Thank goodness it wasn't worse. Manda? Be careful what you wish for...

The Last Decent Fall Day

Last night was unusual. Normal routine calls for me to rush home from work, get the pups out, fix supper, set the VCR's for tv shows I want to watch later, pick up the house a little, perhaps make the bed if I've rushed out that morning (or Hubby's still in it), do dishes, and get into jammies awaiting the arrival of Hubby, the evening meal and tv watching/blogging/reading routine.

Last night I went home, let the pups out, and decided it was just borderline warm enough to sit outside for a bit. There was a scent of woodsmoke on the air and I got inspired to get a fire going outside in the firepit. I got it going, called Hubby to see if he was coming home soon, and just sat and enjoyed the bright moonlight, the fire, the pups being silly... and when he got there, Hubby's company. I went inside and got the VCR's programmed, grabbed us some cold adult beverages, the pups some treats, the people some munchies, and we spent a couple of hours just enjoying each other and the fire and the peaceful countryside.

It's supposed to storm later today. I'm at work this morning. I have errands to run this afternoon and things to do at home, but in a little pocket of time I found some good "quality" time with my spouse. Damn, I like my life.

Vet's Day

Just a quick reminder to thank someone you know today who was a veteran. I'm sure you know someone... a father, grandfather, brother, uncle, aunt, sister, wife, husband, mom, dad... they're everywhere.

I'm married to one. He was drafted when he was in college and hated it, and at the recruiting station he saw some guys in another line. When he asked, they were taking a test to see if they would qualify for another area - in the Navy. Sure enough, he went over, scored very high, and became a Navy man for four years. Although he didn't see combat, he had friends lost in Vietnam and friends that came home changed. He adapted, as he always does, and came home okay. I didn't know him then, but know of his life then through many stories and pictures.

I'm very proud of my husband. Not everyone gives up four years of their life for their country. He did.

Oops! He Did It Again

BIL is at it again.

MIL calls up Hubby wanting to know where the shotgun is that has been sitting in a closet at the shop for months. Hubby says he took it home and put it in the gun safe where it wasn't collecting dust and going to ruin. Why?

Because BIL wants to take his 10-year-old demon-spawn pheasant hunting.

How scary is that? Can he go out and buy anything? No. He's the biggest mooch on the planet. If, mind you, if the gun had been in the closet, Hubby wouldn't even be involved in this conversation. No... BIL would have gone over, taken it and used it without asking. That's the way it usually works. He might mention afterwards that he used it, but probably not unless something happened to it where he would have to 'fess up. He's a ten-year-old himself in a 43-year-old's body.

So, MIL is going to our house and getting him the gun. Heaven help us. Glad I'm not going to be anywhere in the vacinity. What's worse, is , when Hubby makes some comment about "why can't *brother* go out and buy *demon-spawn* his own gun?" they say, "Oh, *demon-spawn* just feels closer to grandpa this way". How many ways can I say BULL-SHIT. Let me count the ways...

Hubby reminds me once again that he is happy I'm an only child. Me too, honey... me too.

Traditions

How many of you have seen "Fiddler on the Roof"? Raise your hands... I have this song "Tradition" stuck in my head. Since last night. Still. It won't go away. As my daughter, Em, has revealed I have a weird thing that happens to me when I drive... I get showtunes stuck in my brain. Sometimes Christmas Carols. Sometimes complete nonsense tunes ripple through my vocal cords. Usually I don't assault anyone else with this...uh...music. Yeah, I'm one of those singers who can't sing. Oh, I CAN sing when I try hard, but when I'm just alone in my car belting tunes I. Don't. Care. I let 'em fly... off-tune, loud, and sometimes with painful consequenses. (You'll have to talk to Em about that.)

I digress.

The topic was traditions. Most of us have family traditions. Some are pretty simple - do you eat dinner together at the table? Do you say grace? Do you take your shoes off when you come in the house? See? Simple. Then you move it up a notch... Christmas. Do you open gifts the night before or the day of? Do you all open gifts at once, or take turns? I'm strange... I make my family open go around and open one at a time. Why? Because I want to see what they get! I want to see the look on their faces when they open it. Yes, I'm bad... I want to see if they like it and if I don't see the initial look, why...they can lie, can't they? Uh-huh. I know how that works. (Not that they would, you know...)

My husbands' family always opened the night before, mine the morning of. We compromise. We go to my MIL's house the night before and have (tradition) oyster stew and chili, then open the gifts between his family and ours. The next morning we have (tradition) my grandmother's coffee cake and open our families' gifts. Stockings are still stuffed at my house. Why? I don't know.. because it's fun? Tradition dictates every stocking be filled with one very large orange and one very large apple. Also, some chapstick. Socks. Maybe mittens. Batteries. Pens and/or pencils. Yeah, practical, huh? Lots of candy - except, of course, for the one kid who doesn't like candy. (Yes, he's mine. Don't know how he missed that gene, tho'.) He makes it interesting, as I have to find things that are not candy but still will fit in a stocking - and not break the bank. Not so easy anymore. Used to be you could get small things for $1-2, now we're talking $5-10. That's a whole other topic...

Birthdays are another traditional day. The person of honor has the choice of whatever they want for dinner - either homecooked, or eaten out. They pick out their cake. They pick out their ice cream. They (sometimes) pick the guest list. They cannot open any gifts until after supper is eaten. I don't know where that came from, maybe we're just closet torturers...?

Trips. Whenever we go on a trip there are protocols. We MUST wash the vehicle on the way out of town. We live in the country, on gravel, and most of the time our vehicles are dusty. Yes, we do wash them occasionally. Actually Hubby is pretty fanatical about washing his truck at least once a week. He's better than I am about that. Okay, I'm a woman... (hey! cut that out! that hurt!) I will wash it when I go to the 'big city' or if we go on a trip. We mustn't look like the hicks from the sticks, you know! Also, when we go further than the 'big city' we always make time for a truck-stop breakfast. You'd be surprised how good those places can be. There's a reason there aren't too many "skinny" truckers... (oh, be quiet...you've seen 'em...you know I'm right.)

Thanksgiving is just a short hop-skip-and-jump away and we all seem to have traditional foods. I mean, it really IS all about the food, isn't it? I know, I know, we all are thankful and we love getting together with our friends and families, but really... it isn't the football, it's the FOOD. Turkey, stuffing, rolls, pumpkin pie - after that it can be a free-for-all. Em will beat you with a stick if she doesn't get scalloped oysters. I think my husband would dis-own me if I decided to have some sort of potato casserole instead of mashed potatoes and gravy. Sweet potatos with brown sugar, butter, and mini-marshmellows is one of my favorites. It's never a bad call to get canned, jellied cranberry sauce. Believe me. We've tried the homemade cranberry salad. It was good, but nobody ate it! (Sorry, MIL.) Once I accidently bought the wrong thing - it wasn't the jellied. I thought my kids were going to revolt! Then you have to have the relish tray - MIL usually brings that. She still insists on throwing cauliflower and broccoli on there with the carrots and celery and olives (both black and green) - even though nobody ever eats it. The plate always looks so off-balanced when we get through and all that is left is the untouched cauliflower and broccoli. Hubby's family always had pumpkin pie with ice cream... is that just weird, or is it me? Our family always had it with whipped cream. Now we offer both. Just in case.

Okay, I'm making myself hungry now... talk amongst yourselves. What traditions does your family have? Any weird ones? C'mon, you can tell... we won't laugh. Much.

This Evening's Post Will be Brought to You by the Letter W

Whoot!!! Whoopie!!! Wonderful!!! Weepin' Mother Mary and Joseph!!! Okay, I slipped that one in there to see if you were payin' attention. Why am I giggling like a schoolgirl? Why am I jumping up and down? Why am I spinning the kitties until they are clawing and spitting like all get-out? Because for once the Gods are with me. Yep. For once I have spun the magic eight-ball and it came up GOOD NEWS. For once I rolled the dice and it was my lucky number. Are you all dying of curiosity now???

Hubby asked his brother and family for Thanksgiving dinner and They. Can't. Come.

You can commence celebrating now. I know I will be...

Is It a Slam if She Doesn't Know It's a Slam?

Hubby went to lunch with his mother at a local restaurant. You have to first know about this restaurant. It is a family owned place that's been in this little burg of a town since 1969. This town has a post office. A grain elevator. A Casey's (that's a stop and rob to you California people). A veterinarian. A burn-your-own restaurant. A feed store and this restaurant.

It isn't huge on atmosphere. The radio is playing oldies in the background. The place has recently been remodeled and now has family photos and restaurant reviews on the walls and the crafty things that the ladies who own the place do in their spare time are still lined up on the window sill for sale a month after their Sunday craft sale has passed.

The ladies who own it and run it are sisters. When my hubby first took me there, the mom was still alive and cooking, too, but she's been gone now for several years. The recipes are still the good homestyle cooking and believe me, there isn't a place around that can compare when all you want is good food without the frills. They have a regular menu that rotates specials of the day... roast beef, pork roast, spaghetti, baked steak, ... and they have been written up in the paper for their delicious pork tenderloin sandwiches. (You people in California will have to find a midwesterner and ask them what it is. I've been told by relatives who live out there that they are not to be found.)

When you want a hot beef sandwich, smothered with gravy and mashed potatoes... or a good homecooked plate of liver and onions... and several different kinds of home made pies... oh, this is the place to go. Mmmmm mmmmm....

The local farmers have a coffee thing going in the mornings. They sit in the dark and gossip and plan their days. My father-in-law was one of the key holders back in the day. He would be the first one there and get the coffee going and sit in the dark smoking waiting for the others to slip in the back door. Hubby tried going for awhile after his father passed, but he just enjoys sitting at home more. He says you have to be too alert to have coffee with that bunch!

At any rate, this is the local place where you can slip in for a good home-cooked lunch or supper and you can be in your farmer duds or just-left-working-in-the-garden-do-I-have-to-clean-up getup and feel right at home sitting next to someone who is dressed up to go on into the bigger town nearby to a movie or the local high school football game. The lunch crowd is varied, from big tables of the local farmers, carpenter, electrician, painter, and plumber... to the people who sneak out of the bigger town to get a quick pork tenderloin sandwich on their lunch hour.

Hubby and his mom were there at noon today. MIL is looking around the very busy restaurant. In one of her patented "looking down her nose" expressions, she makes some comment about "it appears there aren't too many people around here who don't work".

Hubby: Not everyone retired 35 years ago like you, Mom.

BAM.

I'm sorry, I know it's evil, but I love when he does that.

Purse-a-nel Privacy

Bad pun. Sue me. So I'm just wondering if this is an only child syndrome thing, or if it is universal? Why is it that men have this phobia about purses? Not just carrying the purse - that's a given. Unless your man is out of the closet, there aren't too many "he-men" who are going to be carrying that purse... unless they are standing outside the dressing room talking to you in a very loud voice the whole time. "Hey, honey...how's that one fitting? I'm just gonna stand here and hold your purse for you, 'kay?" Or the baby bag is on one arm, your purse is on the other, and it is obvious that he is the sperm donor that put that bundle of joy in your arms. (We won't even get into the "empty seat" at the movie theater whenever two same-sex heteros go together. Silly? Oh, you better believe it.)

No, I'm talking about the "Would you grab the keys out of my purse" kind of phobia.

"What? Me? Touch that? You want me to stick my fingers in it's mouth? Won't it bite?"

No, hon. It's been declawed and de-fanged (what is that called?). I even had a hysterectomy years ago, so it isn't as though there are special "aunt flo" products scattered throughout. Nope. I don't even stuff used tissue back into it. Never. Ever. If I ever did, it would be his anyway.

I have no qualms about getting in his billfold. Not that I make it a habit, but if he says, help yourself to a couple a bucks, why, I'll do it. No going to the current area of the house where said billfold may be hiding, picking it up with two very shy fingers (that will probably be scrubbed within an inch of their lives later), and a shuffling it carefully to the owner to let him remove said dollars from the fold. Nope. Uh-uh. I'll just whip it out and put it back. (I would like to set the record straight for those of you getting ready to jump in here with a smart-ass remark. I do NOT go into his billfold willy-nilly. I ask first. I get permission first.... and rarely am I getting money out of his billfold unless he's said, "I'll give you $5 if you keep doing that". Get your mind out of the gutter. He's usually teasing and we're probably talking about scratching his back. Sheesh!)

I've tried to analyze it. Yes, it's what I do. Is it a midwest thing? I don't get out of the midwest much, and I've heard rumors that California has those "man purses", so I'm not sure they're qualified to play. But...I've seen other men do it when I've been around them and their wives... Maybe... is this a married man thing? I'm trying to think, but I believe I've also seen this behavior in un-married men. Is it a respect thing? ... Hmmmm... no, I don't really think that's it. I mean, are we less respectful of our men's possessions than they are of ours? I don't think so.

Were they told as a young child to "stay out of mommy's purse"... and it stuck? The one behaviour that held out through childhood and into adulthood? You'd think the one about putting the seat down would hold more water...

Maybe they got clubbed with a purse when they were in school and girls first had need for purses and discovered they could be a pretty good weapon when that kid behind you felt the need to play with your hair. Perhaps it was later, in high school, when girls did start carrying those "special items" for those "special days"... (yes, girls, don't we all feel special?) when the boys accidently caught a glimpse of one of those (wouldn't that be a cool thing to shoot out of the potato gun?) and found out later with much humiliation that maybe it wasn't such a cool thing. Perhaps that was the lesson that stuck.

Whatever it is, I'd like to think it isn't because that's where he thinks we're hiding the voodoo doll or the really good drugs or the knife (that time of the month - see earlier post). No, I'd like to think it's because there is a little boy in every man that just can't seem to get past that it's a "girl thing". You know... cooties...

At What Point...

...did I turn over in bed, look at the clock... say, oh...it's only 4:45... and go back to sleep until 7:00? Yes, I was late to work this morning. Good thing I don't have to punch a time-clock! Damn, that bed felt good.

(Yes, I was up with the puppies... at 3:45. Plenty of time to fall back into snooze-land.)

Only Child Syndrome

Today my husband took me to lunch. He was in a hurry, as was I, so we just did the Mickey-D drive thru. By the time he called to see if I wanted to go to lunch, I was 3/4 of the way through my sandwich I was eating at my desk... my usual lunch habit, but I agreed to go along with him and keep him company. I, of course, was tempted and had a hot fudge sundae. Mmmm... I open it, and Hubby says, "Can I have a bite?". No biggie, right? Ah... but you forget my greatest disease. Only Child Syndrome. I hesitate. I look at the ice cream melty on the top and the chocolate fudge swirling on the sides.... I scoop up a spoonful... of... vanilla ice cream.

"Can I have some fudge?" He asks innocently.
"Uh...sure" I answer, scraping a midge of fudge off the side.
"Boy... I could write a book about your Only Child Syndrome" he says.
"What??" I ask innocently... quickly scarfing down the rest of the thick chocolate.

Yes. I'm awful. I have a hard time sharing. It isn't that I don't love the people I'm sharing with. I love my husband and my children and my critters. It's a disease, I tell you... a real disease! There is something in my brain that says "NO" to sharing.

This includes time sharing. I get selfish. I need alone time or I go a bit ga-ga. (Shaddup - Iheard that. No one asked for input from the peanut gallery. ) I have so many different interests that I can't find time to do any of them... (even before blogging became a part of my life.) I don't have just one or two interests, but many. This can be problematic when you are trying to share your life with a husband and children and critters. So, I spend a certain amount of time alone. Hubby is very understanding. Kids are off and grown and on their own now, so it isn't as much of a factor where they're concerned. Critters? Well, it's hard to turn critters down but they more or less just take whatever you can give them.

Sigh. I look at myself...Hubby's right. I know he's right. He knows he's right. ... as long as he doesn't know where my chocolate is...

Enough to Make You Sick

Okay, I'll admit, we're getting a little sickening. Hubby reminds me that we are beginning to sound like the annual photocopied Christmas Letter that goes around saying how wonderful everything has been and how lovely our children are and how perfect our lives are. This is just a reminder that despite recent posts, we ARE human. We are NOT perfect. Our family is just as fucked-up as yours in many respects.

Get over it.

How to Give Someone a Heart Attack or Can We Cut Out His Tongue?

Hubby was so moved and tickled by Em's post yesterday he almost told his mother about it. Yes. MIL. "She-who-must-never-ever-find-out-about-the-blogs. "(Will someone go over and pick Em up off the floor now?) It's okay. He didn't. We'll keep him.

Tearin' My Heart Out

Okay, I've had enough. I'm in a little puddle under my desk. Em has done it again.
Go see her blog. Go now. Read about my critters (the felines)... yes, they're all mine except Bug which is my grand-critter. Now, go down to the next post. Read it. Read it slowly and let it soak in. Yes, that is my Hubby.

See why I'm so lucky?

Would Someone Please Take the Voodoo Doll Away from the Nasty Person?

I don't know about you, but I'm really getting tired of this. Not this this... not the blog... nor am I technically speaking about myself. I'm getting tired of the really nice people I've met out there in blogland (yes, YOU) who are going through the most shitty times right now. It's not fair. ::stomping feet:: It's really not.

I would venture a guess it's something in the water, but you're all in different parts of the country - hell, in different parts of the world! Somehow, the holder of The Doll has figured out just what to do to make you miserable.

We range from health and family issues with Livey, to lots of house-selling-moving frightful tales from Becky and Jade. Darrell has been battling health problems for so long I don't think he even knows what "healthy" feels like. We have kids going through one thing after another with Mom and job craziness with Manda and Jon. We won't even touch on how ones' integrity can be smashed to bits with all poor Sizzle had to go through this week. Money? Thy name is mud. Jules can tell you that... and from across the pond we have Helen. That beautiful, intelligent, talented lady has her hands full with "all of the above" and then some.

I swear... if I knew where he kept The Doll I'd find it and get rid of it.

Suffice it to say, I hope that all of these people I've mentioned (and probably some I've missed) know that they do have other people in the world who care about them and who, though we may be hundreds to thousands of miles apart, feel in some way we know them. We send virtual hugs and prayers to the gods and nightly wishes on stars that things will get better for them and they will become the happy, healthy, well people they deserve to be. Everyone deserves to have a dream. Everyone deserves to have a dream come true. As much as I bitch, I am so blessed. Blessed with family, a nice home, a good job, sweet critters, and you. My blog-friends.

I'd make it better if I could for you. Honest.

In the Dead of the Night

Hubby wakes me. He tells me I woke him. How? I was giggling in my sleep. Giggling. I can't possibly think of anything these days to giggle about. I'm glad my inner child is being entertained, even if it is in the dead of night.

He then proceeds to tell me - in a rather loud tone of voice (the man can NOT whisper...it's a known fact) - about the strange dream he was having when I woke him.

Of course, my constant readers know what's coming next. Yes. He woke up the puppies. It's now 1 a.m. I'm outside in my jammies, hoodie, and tennis shoes watching two black and white streaks charging around the yard. The scent of skunk is in the air. The rattle and bang of a nearby train is shuttling along. The neighbors dog is woofing like he means it. I'm sitting in a lawn chair on the porch wishing they would hurry up and do their 'thing' so I can go back to bed.

Back inside. Hubby's snoring. I wonder whatever made me giggle in my sleep. How's your night going?

There's a Little Smartass In Everyone

Or so I discovered when the comments came rolling in on my last post...

In Case You Were Wondering...

Em went back to Kansas on Monday evening. (Waaaaaaa!!!!)
Work hasn't let up. (Booooooooo!!!!)
I feel that I'm coming down with a cold. (Iiiiiiicky!!!)
I miss you all immensely.

Someone tell me something good, 'kay?