Sunday, October 30, 2005
I went with James and Zach to Big Creek yesterday afternoon to take photos while they wet some minnows in their attempts to catch a few fish. I had my lawn chair, a bottle of kiwi, pineapple, papaya, and whothehellknowswhatelse, sparkling water (someday I'll learn to read labels), my camera bag, and a book, and I was all set until I had to tote all that stuff back up that big-ass hill from the creek bank. It was fun, however, watching Zach catch 2 more fish than his PopPop did, and sitting in the woods snapping photos in near peace and quiet.
I found a few spots where Autumn was trying to peek in amid our still, mostly green, trees and since the weather was just in the lower 70's the mosquitos didn't try to carry us away.
I had a hell of a time getting this photo of Zach with his second catch of the day. While trying to get him in position to take a photo of the first catch he was so excited that he was attempting to bring the fish for me to see while it was still attached to the line, that was attached to the pole, and in his haste to untangle the line he dropped the fish who rolled and flopped about 15 feet and plopped right back into the creek. He was pretty much upset with me over that, even though they were catching and releasing the fish anyway.
After we arrived back home we got all got baths and I decorated Zach for his Halloween party next door. The Chick arrived and made her grand entrance wearing her cute little Flamingo duds and they all danced the evening away. At one point during the evening they turned on the fog machine to create more effect in the haunted garage and the Chick came busting out to tell her Momma, "Something's wrong with Jessie's party, there's smoke all in there!"
Miz Jillian even stayed awake for the party, and except for a few cold toes and fingers, stayed toasty warm by the bonfire. Around 8 we went back home with the little ones and Jerri and Bubbie went on to a more adult party while Jillian and the Chick stayed with Nanny.
We awoke this morning bright and early because the Chick wouldn't have it any other way. Jerri and Bubbie stayed over so after we finally got both eyes open we cooked a southern-mexican dinner combination. Jami and the girls came by a little later and Jerri's Mom, Niece, and sister dropped by to visit.
Everyone has gone home now so this Nanny is going to go take a soaking bath and get comfortable to be ready to watch a movie that's supposed to be on this evening. I'll be back in the morning with my under-eye bags and coffee in hand to blog surf and see what everyone else has been up to over the weekend.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Friday, October 28, 2005
The terrorist will attend is first Halloween party with the older kids tomorrow night. Jessie, from next door, is throwing a Spooky Halloween hoedown of sorts and has invited him. I highly suspect the invitation came in order for them to be able to keep an eye on him else he'd have probably been sneaking over there to crash it. I bought him a goul costume and face paint so hopefully he'll look the part. Should be a good photo opportunity depending on how long I can hang in there to take some.(Maybe if I stick a bottle of Jose gold in my pocket I'll be able to handle it.)
Thursday, October 27, 2005
September 2004, Arkansas
My son is a rescue diver with our local sheriff's department. About two months ago, they were called out for an emergency rescue of several people who had fallen in the water, after their boat had tipped over.
When the rescue team arrived at the scene, other boaters had pulled two men out of the water and onto their boat. Two other cloth covered items were seen floating in the river.
When the rescue team entered the water, they found that these were not bodies.
The story was that the two men that were pulled out of the water had decided to do a little fishing. Bass fishermen spend tens of thousands of dollars outfitting their specialized boats with fancy electronic fish finders and other gear, and sometimes make the boats into floating palaces, with seats that recline while they're waiting for the big one to strike. But not everyone can afford the best.
These two fishermen had to make do with a 14-foot, flat-bottom jon boat, a kind of skiff. Wanting to be comfortable, and not having the money for a real bass boat, these two dim bulbs decided to put a couple of La-Z-boy recliners on their boat. They must have barely had enough room left of their supply of beer. Needless to say, they both decided to recline at the same time, and you can figure out the rest of the story.
My son said that they and the rest of the rescue team were laughing so hard that they could hardly do their job.
Now, doesn't that make you feel better about yourself?
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
My husband is a hunter, as is my son, and one of my two daughters, and there was a time, when I was foolishly young, that I'd grab the opportunity to go with hubby on a hunting trek in order to just be with him. It didn't matter that I wasn't a hunter or that I'd later have nightmares about the slaughter of sweet, little animals, I was in love and would do what it took to be near the love of my life. I might mention here that this was a one-sided love affair because I don't rightly recall him ever wanting to accompany me on my, at that time only, out-of-the-home-except-for-work activity to do the grocery shopping with one buggy full of fighting kids while towing another in which to put the groceries, but you know how love goes...
It only took 2 (I'm a slow learner) of these opportunities for me to
get over itbecause I finally figured it out, hunters are a crazy bunch.
You begin to realize the extent of their insanity as you sit on a muddy turn row,in the rain, in the dark, in wet clothes, wearing only one boot (the other being stuck 3ft deep in the mud of a plowed up field a few hundred yards back), holding the leash of the hyper coon hound, waiting for your partner in life to find the damned truck that you know you arrived at the woods in. I might also mention here that the woods we were hunting in were, at most, only 1/8 of a mile wide but had sufficient length for us to be able to make various circles in order to become lost enough that you can't find the damned truck when you exit them.
Other realizations of a hunter's maddness come as you finally flail bleedingly through the entangled, thorny patch of wild blackberry bushes looking as if you'd just lost a fight with an angry feral cat. Then while you feel confident the blood won't matter due to there being no piranhas or sharks in the puddles and streams you'll have to cross, you soon realize that leaping these puddles and streams is a sure way to get wetter because you can almost bet that, even if your take off is smooth, the landing probably won't be.
And then there's the cold. But the shivering soon goes away due to the sweating you are doing from the extra 50lbs of mud you are carrying, that's stuck to your one boot and one sock, that you gathered from crossing that chisel-plowed field previously mentioned.
Upon finally arriving at my centrally heated home after my attempt to feel in tune with my other half, I came to the conclusion that love ain't worth all that so I'm OVER it!
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
I had a hell of a time putting that cute little bee graphic up in the left corner here cause blogger wasn't cooperating this morning. It's Monday so I reckon that's par for the course. Anyhow, I'm rambling, as I'm prone to do, so I'll get back to the subject at hand.
It's that time of the year,,actually not quite that time of the year due to the harvest being all done quicker this year,,but close enough. The time of the year that all the "I'll get that done after I'm done picking cotton" chores are supposed to be started. I say started because around here that's the key word as far as those chores are concerned. There are chores on that HD list that date all the way back to 1971 so the number of "I'll get to em chores" that haven't been started would probably break a record of some sort if I could figure out who'd actually be interested in such a list.
At the time of this writing, there are 3 chores that I really feel need to be started, and completed, before the year 2040.
Number one, on the short list, is to secure the molding on the living room ceiling that's threatening to fall at any moment and give someone a concussion.
Number 2 is a newcomer on the to-do list but I give it emergency status because it could lead to hunger and severe dehydration or, at the very least, suffocation by toxic gas, should an unsuspecting someone be stuck alone in the house. It's the replacement of the broken door knob on one of the bathroom doors. I've already had to assist a couple of folks in escaping the bathroom and I noticed my son had to aid in Jerri's (his wife) escape from the room yesterday.
Number 3, discussed and hashed over all during the spring and summer as clouds of plant toxic chemicals and dust fogged from the field south of our property, is to build a privacy fence along the propery line on that side.
Hementioned yesterday, while in the company of a houseful of folks to save himself a severe head bashing I'm sure, that he may scratch that idea. I reckon this is going to have to go over to the "still under discussion" side of the HD list where upon it won't be started unless I find a very good bargain in fencing materials and stack them in front of the shed so that he can't escape with the ATV to go hunting.
There was a time when I rarely added anything to the HD list because I'd just do all that stuff myself. But I highly suspect that the doing of many of those chores has something to do with this bad back I'm sporting and I just can't do them anymore. I really may have to pull up a chair and try to put on a new door knob though. I'd hate to be in the local newspaper as the homeowner who's house guest was hospitalized for inhaling toxic fumes (even though they'd be of their own making).
Friday, October 21, 2005
I find it hard to watch the news these days and it's almost worse reading about it online because it seems those reports give even more details of the tragedies. There's hardly ever any good news reported anymore and surely there is some, isn't there?
One of the defense attorneys for Saddam's murderous buds has been found with 2 bullet holes in his head.
A mother who claims to hear voices tosses her 3 children in the bay in San Francisco.
Hurricane Wilma is chugging along and expected to gain strength before slamming ashore on Florida's east coast.
Thousands of survivors of the Pakistan earthquake still awaiting help two weeks after their world collapsed, with a freezing winter looming.
Study results show double rain forest destruction.
I'm thinking it might be a good idea to just climb back into bed and pull the covers over my head.
Jerri wanted me to ask if anyone was interested in playing a little game that one of her buds is hosting. The next competition starts in November.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
The report card wasn't as bad as I had feared. He did have a D in conduct (he talks,,a lot) and 2 Cs (one very, very, close to a D), 1 A and 2 Bs. He didn't make the honor roll for the first time since semester 1 of kindergarten but I think that is bothering me much more than it is him. It seems his main ambition is to just do enough so that he won't have to spend another year in the 3rd grade. We need to work to change that.
I was able to spend about 30 minutes with his teacher because I was there early and she didn't have anyone else scheduled. His teacher and I were able to talk over a lot of things so we've decided a longer conference is not necessary right now. We did discuss having him tested for ADD so this is something I'll give a lot of thought to.
I'm sure some of you have had to deal with a child who is constantly "bouncing" when you're trying to settle him down to go over homework assignments. I have had moments when I've considered rope and duct tape to keep him still long enough to write a few sentences using his spelling words. It doesn't help that I'm not well known for my patience either. James mentioned once that perhaps I should home school Zach and my very adamant reply was, "Are YOU fucking CRAZY?"
Anyway, tonight is study night because Zach has 4 tests scheduled for tomorrow so I'm going to be prepared by taking a tranxene before he gets home and have that bottle of wine handy.
I won't go down without a fight! One of us is gonna learn something!
Krysten did make the honor roll and only had one B on her report card!! MeriKate had a whole bunch of N's on her kindergarten report but her teacher thinks that she'll settle in soon,,hopefully. Miss Abby is just in pre-school so she didn't get a report card but it didn't matter to her, she'd just as soon forget school all together if they'd let her.
We got school photos last week so I thought I'd share a tiny copy of the collage I made with them.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
I had a call from Soony yesterday. I've been waiting for her to announce the news to her co-workers before making the announcement here and she did that last week so here it is:
She and Eric are having a baby in March!!
Although I won't be a grandma again genetically, I'll surely be one in my heart cause I love this child as though she were one of my own.
Congratulations Soony and Eric!!
Jerri took this photo of the dust storm these two pumkins kicked up on Sunday. I think it's wayyyy cool.Zach will be getting out of school early today because we get the allotted 10 minute parent/teacher conference to pick up the first 9 weeks report card today. I made an appointment for another conference with Zach's teacher tomorrow because I don't think 10 minutes is going to be nearly long enough!
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
This is not my favorite photograph of John Lennon (it's ruined for me by Yoko's appearance) but then magazine covers are selected more for their shock value than to entice their purchase by the intellectual crowd.
A nude shot of a pregnant Demi Moore received the second largest number of votes by the ASME.
A Corner Where L.A. Hits Rock Bottom
A few hours after a homeless guy named Virgil died of an overdose in the portable toilet, the blue plastic outhouse at 6th and San Julian streets was back in business. Not as a toilet, but as a house of prostitution.Five portable toilets stand at that corner in the darkened heart of skid row. T.J. says she sometimes has a customer in each of them — a john in every john — and scurries from one to the next, taking care of business.
"I run this corner," says the stocky 52-year-old woman, whose initials stand for Thick and Juicy. "I'm the madam, and those are the cathouses."
Who knew that anyone could be so desperate? It scares me that a Master race of Aliens might one day judge our planet by what they read in the news.
Monday, October 17, 2005
I've had the concentration of a gnat on amphetamines the past few days so this will probably be the most boring entry in the blog world today. The random thoughts that do happen to pass through my mind are a lot like lightening but not nearly so pretty. It's just that time of the year again,,holidays just around the corner,,and thoughts of this dysfunctional family of mine, as well as the winter months ahead,,,all puts me in an awful mood.
And my feet are cold this morning! I don't like having cold feet but I hate wearing socks in the worst way. I awoke to temps around 42 and to the weatherman saying they'd soon climb up to near 90, I'd say this was Indian Summer, but since we haven't really had any fall weather yet, I don't think it qualifies.
I had some "good groceries" (as Alexis told me once) over the weekend. Saturday, since James had his first weekend off in awhile, he cooked steaks, cornish hens, and a pork shoulder on the grill. Much of the shoulder went with Bubbie to feed his horse barn crew at the prison but we chowed down on all the rest.
Sunday I cooked a pot of great northern beans, mixed turnip, kale, and rape greens, and a big pan of mexican cornbread to go with left-over cornish hens. I call a meal like that Southern Comfort Food except you're so miserable from being stuffed you can barely get up from the table after consuming it.
Monkey Nuts continued on with his blogger tour last week but not before being chewed on a little by Miz Jillian.
Friday, October 14, 2005
As I gently rubbed yet another crayon mark from the wall with my Mr. Clean Magic Eraser (if you haven't tried these you're missing out on a miricle!), I realized I am in love with this man,,,doesn't matter one bit to me that he's been as dead as a doornail for over 40 years (yep, he personally shined his last floor in 1964 before he was brutally murdered), the man is still the answer to every housewife's dream. Studly biceps, cute ass, and he does floors and windows!!
Mr. Clean’s appearance – big, strong and friendly – created the household cleaner’s identity back in 1958 as a product that provides quick, easy cleaning of almost everything around the house. As the song goes, Mr. Clean gets rid of dirt and grime and grease in just a minute…Mr. Clean will clean your whole house and everything that’s in it! Keep it clean with Mr. Clean!
Things were going well for Clean too and they were about to get better. While beating the life out of man who owed him money in a Madison Avenue alley, he was discovered by an advertising executive who had recently won the account for Proctor & Gamble’s new cleaning product “Suddsy Clean.” At first the exec had pictured a fluffy teddy bear-type mascot to sell the product to American housewives, but while he stood there watching Clean repeatedly pound his bloody brass knuckles into that poor chump’s already shattered jaw, he had an idea. “Stop!” he yelled in a burst of excitement, prompting Clean to remove his trusty revolver from it’s holster and take aim at his head. While begging for his life, the cowering ad man explained that he wanted Clean to be the spokesman for a product he would rename “Mr. Clean” because he was sure that the chrome-domed giant could be as tough on dirt and grime as he was on that poor debtor’s pulverized skull. Clean considered for a moment, then shot the debtor twice through the forehead, and told the executive he had a deal.
Cameras began rolling on a series of television and radio commercials for the new product, but there was one hitch – Clean’s thick New York accent that the rest of the country found too jarring. “Mistuh Cleeyn” wasn’t selling in America’s heartland, but the problem was easily fixed by making silence one of the “Mr. Clean” character’s trademarks and having product information instead provided by a catchy jingle. The new, revamped ad campaign was a great success and stores couldn’t keep enough product on the shelves. Mr. Clean was now a household name and everybody was happy. Everybody except for Carlo Gambino.
With his body guard’s face now in every kitchen in America, Carlo Gambino was getting much more press than he preferred. He couldn’t go anywhere without being slowed down by Clean’s crazed fans asking for autographs, the cops were on alert anytime they saw a bald head, and Clean was now an easy face to pick out of police lineups (not to mention that he had gone Hollywood and pierced his ear with a gold hoop.) Citing Clean’s years of faithful service, Gambino was willing to put up with the inconveniences as well as his body guard’s new “gay pirate” look. But when he learned that Clean had been running his own scams and skimming of the top of the Gambinos’ profits, his number was up.
Clean was invited to the Gambino kitchen for a private meeting like he had done countless times before. When he arrived he was greeted by Carlo, and then greeted in the back of his head twice by a .357 Magnum. Looking at the bloody mess on the kitchen floor that was once his body guard and good friend, Carlo sighed. But business is business. Ironically, the evidence was easily mopped up using a few bottles of Mr. Clean Orange Scented, and all that was left behind was sparkling white tile and a fresh citrus scent.
They probably would have been able to stump even Grisom from CSI if they'd used these magic erasers to remove the blood splatters from the wall.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Jerri took the Chicklet photos and I snapped this one of Krysten, Abby, and Merikate with their brother, Zach, yesterday afternoon.
Abby had big news to tell me when they came by yesterday. First was her sore finger from the attack of the mail box, she wasn't too pleased with that. Then she had to tell me that the "firemans" had come to her (preschool) class and he told her to call "9-9-1-2-9-6-5-4-3" in case of an emergency. She repeats those same numbers no matter how many times I asked her about what the "firemans" told her.
Jerri says the Chick is loving her dance class on Mondays. She told me the news finally leaked out from behind the secretive doors about their dance recital in April. They'll be performing to "Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny, Yellow Poka-Dot Bikini". I have an idea that their act will be a hit cause the image of a bunch of little totish girls in bikinis and towels makes me smile just thinking about it.
Trish called and Jordan is racking up the home runs during her fall softball season. Jaylen is doing great too except she's been having so much trouble with her tonsils lately. The doctors at Children's Hospital in Little Rock are great but I just wonder if she has allergies since she gets sick with this stuff so often.
Krysten and MeriKate are also doing fine. Krysten has been making good grades and Merikate has too when she's not getting into trouble. She punched a little girl the other day for staring at her.
Jillian is just being sweet Jillian. When she smiles or giggles she does it with her whole body and you can see this little gleam in her eyes that says, "Ya'll just wait till I can move around on my own".
Yesterday was a full one with many errands, and I believe errands breed errands, so I have a few more today. Most of today's can be done over the phone so at least I won't have to leave the house, I hope!
I'm going to try to get around to read my blog roll some time today as well cause I can't be letting folks do things that I don't know about!
Happy Thursday ya'll!
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Monday, October 10, 2005
Two glasses of blackberry merlot and a tranxene later and the Terrorist is safe from harm, although for a while there I had to sit on my hands and feet to keep the acts of murder or, at the very least, severe maiming, from occuring. By the time he finished up the Science homework and went on to the Spelling, I couldn't even spell the damned 3rd grade level words. It took 3 trys for me to tell him how to spell tightly!
He makes the whole process last much longer than it should because he fidgets, makes faces, sings, farts, laughs about farting, has to use the bathroom, needs a snack, needs a shower. If the phone rings and I answer it, he escapes.
I swear ya'll, a padded cell and a straight jacket look pretty damned good in times like these. (for ME). With what is left of my tortured brain cells I could make the bars on the windows disappear in my mind. I could probably even dream up a palm tree, little umbrella drinks, and a manly hunk or two if we'd have had one of those math homework days.
Jami came in for a short time and gave him a quick hair cut and to use the computer to do a little of her own homework. She left a folder here and called later to tell me to please keep Zach out of it. I sacastically told her,,"hell, he won't even get into his own so I don't think you need worry."
Well, I just had to have this little bitch session but I'll stop now and try to get my eyes uncrossed before time to do the "get the Terrorist to bed" thing.
This Nanaw is very tired.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Saturday, October 08, 2005
My latest random indication of love came just a short time ago as the ringing phone jarred me from a deep sleep.
James: Are you up?
Brenda: I am now.
James: Oh, I figured you'd been up awhile, it's almost 9 O'clock.
Brenda: (looking at the clock that says 8:35) Zach's still asleep so I was still asleep.
James: Oh, well I wanted to ask you if you could wear a 2X sweat shirt.
Brenda: You're asking do I? or can I?
James: Can you, cause they've only got 2 sizes left on sale, a 2X and a 3X.
Brenda: Well it would have to be the smaller one then, but why?
James: The John Deere place has these sweat shirts on sale and I thought I'd get you one. Do you want a red one or a green one?
Brenda: Green, who ever heard of a red John Deere anything?
James: Ok, I'll get you a green one. Oh, and Louis (the John Deere Parts man) says I should get a 4X to be sure to cover your big ass,,(snicker, snicker).
Brenda: Tell that redneck Mexican to kiss my big ass.
I just get overwhelmed by these random indications of love around here and I'm sure the sweat shirt will keep most of me warm.
I wandered around outdoors with my camera a bit yesterday cause my Autumn sunflowers are a'bloomin. I love these sunflowers.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Monkey Nut has agreed that a little hop around the blog world would be fun so for my fellow Bloggers, who have a stash of bananas and a bag of "cracklings" (he's become fond of those since he's been here), he's available to accept invitations to visit.
Bloggers who are interested in hosting Monkey Nuts should send me an email with their physical address. You can find my email addy in my profile (the link's up top there somewhere).
Monkey Nuts will arrive with the address for his next destination in hand (or tail, he uses that to stuff the cracklings in his mouth). His visits should last one week during which the Blogger must take photos to post on their blog. I would also like to request that the photos be emailed to me so that Piggy and Tazzy can do a photo album for the Nut. (You could also just email the photos to Piggy and Tazzy if you'd prefer).
At the time you post the photos, a link to Monkey Nut's previous host's blogs should be posted as well to show where he's been and where he's come from.
I think it would also be nice if the host Blogger would send Monkey Nuts to his next destination with a souvenir for the next host (a fridge magnet, postcard, or anything small as long as it shows representation of your location or area).
On or before February 1, 2006 (and this is subject to change depending on how many requests to host Monkey Nuts there are), Monkey Nuts is to be mailed back to me (I will include my address and it should be sent along with Nuts on all of his travels). I had selfish thoughts of keeping Monkey Nuts here with me but after pondering on it, I've decided that once he returns to me after his travels, I will return him to the loving arms of his family where he can tell them all about his adventures and entice them to have some of their own.
I'll be watching my email!
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Look who came scampering up at my place in the country yesterday (Oct 5th) at around 1:30 pm to hand deliver my Top 10 cd made by those wonderful lads over in Britian. He was also carrying a shoebox with a stash of Yorkshire tea, biscuits, and some yummy chocolates under his arm. I'm told that his name is Monkey Nut ("Nut" for short).
I couldn't turn him away so he's staying to experience a little of our redneck culture.
He's already waded through dew and dust this morning to have a closer look at the cotton field. He informed me that it looked like too much manual labor to him out in that field!
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Well they replaced my spiffy, black mailbox with this ugly, white one but at least it's in one piece.
This field of cotton is on the south side of us. The farmer has allowed some experimental group to plant a test plot of sorts so periodically they come out and do whatever. If you look closely in this photo you'll see some folks out there hand picking some cotton. They must be picking in different chosen spots in the field cause if they were doing some serious picking, as they did when I remember seeing folks picking cotton back in the old days, that field would be empty of cotton after two good days of picking. I took this on their second day of being there.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Today I tried my hand at investigating a homicide. But this was after I had taken several deep breaths and something for my nerves to keep myself from taking shotgun and lawn chair to the edge of my yard in order to shoot at anything resembling farm equipment that might happen to chung past me on the road, (cover your eyes, I'm gonna swear here) the FUCKERS!
They got my mailbox,,again. This only makes about the 10th time this year and I'm more agitated than usual because this time they scattered some mail that I'd put out there, with my little red flag raised, for the friendly post man to pick up. The same friendly post man who probably noticed that I was at home and didn't bother to pull up in my drive to
give me today's mail
and tell me the DAMNED mail box had been murdered again.
You'd think he'd be feeling sorry for me after the years I've been putting up with this countryside homicide. But I reckon they don't pay him enough to actually have him think of tooting the horn to let me know he can't deliver the FREAKIN mail. Mind you, when I called the Postmistress to inquire as to why the carrier wasn't feeling courteous today and to ask if there was some action I could take since the murder of a mailbox is supposedly a federal crime, she told me that I really should consider renting a mail box at the post office to safeguard my mail. I politely declined cause my first thought was, hell I'd have to get out of my pajamas every day to use gas to drive to get the mail. AND, it's my right, as an American citizen, by god, to get my mail delivered to my little, rural box,,,when it's not lying dead beside the road,,without having to pay 50 (or more) smackers MORE annually to the U.S. Postal Service. They're already robbing us blind by making us buy those little stamps that go up in price almost every year.
(A man on a horse could deliver the mail quicker than they do now but that's a gripe for another day.)
Anyway, (Piggy's fav word), back to my murder investigation. Since I live in this rural area on a gravel road that's barely wide enough for 2 trucks to pass without one of them going into the ditch, I had a pretty strong hunch that I could narrow the suspects down to the farm hands of 3 of the farmers. I gathered up my phone book and started calling until I tracked em down. It turns out that yes, they knew they knocked the mail box down, and yes they had sent someone to the buying place to purchase a new one (they won't get one cheap cause I've bought all that Wal mart had these last 12 months) and they planned to put it back up. Of course this was much earlier,,like this morning.
Now I sit here looking out the window at my mail boxless post sticking up out of the ground looking all lonely and stuff, with no mail to open up to toss into the trash, wondering when in the hell they plan to PUT MY MAIL BOX BACK! I damn well better have some good mail when I do get the box or I'm gonna be really pissed.
Monday, October 03, 2005
My sister, Paula, sent this in an email and I'm supposed to pass it on. I thought I'd do that here cause ya'll are my friends.
To MY Friends!
I'm getting tired of those namby, pamby, girly, sissy, completely wet, friendship poems that never come close to reality so here's a series of promises that mean what real friendship is all about.
When you are sad - I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard that made you that way.
When you are blue - I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
When you smile - I will know you've finally had sex.
When you are scared - I will tease the crap out of you every chance I get.
When you are worried - I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and tell you to stop your everloving whining.
When you are confused - I will use only the little words.
When you are sick - Stay the hell away from me until you are well again cause I don't want whatever it is you have!
When you fall - I will point and laugh at your clumsiness.
This is my oath and I pledge it to the end. Why you ask?
Because you are my friend.
If you want, you can send this to 10 of your friends, or get depressed because you can only think of two and one of them is mad and not speaking to you.
Remember: A good friend will help you move. A really good friend will help
you move a body. Let me know if I ever need to bring a shovel.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
I've gotta add this lady/gentleman to my list of favorite comedians. As I've mentioned before, I listen to Rock 103 radio most mornings if I'm in my truck before they go off the air at 10. I've lost count of the times that I've had to pull over to the side of the road because I could no longer see to drive through the tears of laughter. The Wake Up Crew has added a lot of Shirley Q. to their morning program and this lady/gentleman is almost as good as another of my favorites, Moms Mabley.
Ya'll can go here and have a listen to one of Shirley Q's sound bites, "ShirleyQ - Who Is My Baby's Daddy". I think she's about 11th on the list there.
While you're at their site take a listen to a few more and you'll see why it's not totally safe to be listening to their show in high traffic situations.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Back row, LtoR, Pamela, Me, Donna, Debra. Front,LtoR, Paula, Stephanie, Marsha, and a girl who started to school after I moved away to live with my father in England.
My cousin Judy (in green) was there with my Aunt Dale (in pink, my dad's youngest sister). It was nice to get them each a big ole hug and a hello.
I hear there were no looting problems in Texas before, during, and after Hurricane Rita.
I wonder why?
Zach and I are gonna get dressed and drive over to Moro, where I went to school for about 7 years as a kid. Hopefully I'll see some of my fellow Moroians and catch up on what everyone's been doing over the past 37 years.
Damn, that seems like a long time, don't it?
I'll take my cameras and post some photos later.
Ya'll have a great Saturday!!