Hello, my friends!

Look! I'm posting again! I always feel so virtuous when I put up a post. It's like having my vitamins, or shaving my legs, or getting the last stray sock off the laundry chair.  Let's see- what's going on around here? Thanksgiving is coming soon and there's apparently been some interfamilial debate over whether squirrel is appropriate  holiday fare or not.  I come down pretty firmly on the 'not' side, having once eaten squirrel.  I know I've written about squirrel eating before but the truth is I only did it once, a really long time ago. And I didn't inhale, I swear!  Anyway, I'm not sure how that's going to play out but I'll eat anything if I have enough wine, that's my motto!  The weather has gotten very chilly lately, it is definitely boot weather.  I have recently discovered that it's also the season for purchasing larger than normal sized stretchy cords.  I found this out the hard way and I don't want to talk about it anymore, thank you very much.  I might have to travel to an even colder place for work sometime soon, too. To a place where I hear that people routinely wear cleats to keep from slipping on the ice. I'm not sure how well that's going to work out for me. Cleats, really? I mean, sure, those are great for clawing your way to the top of the heap, if you have a pile of coworkers in your way all the time like I do and you don't want blood on your good boots. But just for walking down the street? I don't think so.

Thanksgiving, boring! Work, boring! Let's talk about my most brilliant recent discovery! It's only the most awesome zombie/vampire repellant ever!  Like all brilliant discoveries it happened totally by accident. See, I had to clean out the cat box, so I scooped the cat poop into a bag, then I tied the bag shut and put it outside the front door. I kept 'forgetting' to take it to the garbage, which was super annoying, until it got to be about the fourth day and I realized that the entire time that bag had been by the front door was undead-predator free! Not a single vampire or zombie! It worked for about ten days and would probably still be effective, only someone got sick of having a bag of cat poop on the front porch and threw it away. Someone who doesn't realize how valuable it was, no doubt. So now I have to just wait until I can get another bag full. In the meantime, I make the cat sleep with me with his butt pointed towards the bedroom door.  With that problem solved, I need to figure out a way to keep the raccoons away from the chickens.  So far they have gotten three of our chickens. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure they are regular raccoons, not the undead kind, so the cat poop doesn't work.  Let me know if you have any ideas! And Happy Thanksgiving! I'll be sure to keep you posted on the squirrels.

DOGGAMMIT

I didn't want a dog. Seriously, if you'd asked me one second before I saw her if I wanted a dog, I would have said 'HELL, NO!' Then I might have punched you in the face for asking such a stupid question. Then I saw Samantha, and I wanted a dog. Not A dog, THAT dog.  She's a beautiful, glossy gracile black lab, and belongs to a friend of a friend who needs to find a new home for her.  I convinced myself this was a good idea, and then she came over for a sniffing session. She cheerfully and enthusiastically bounded out of the car and within .0063 seconds she had lunged and bitten Lloyd, so we had to pass.  I mean, biting Lloyd is one thing, but we can't have her attacking the neighbor kids. Sure, they might be little assholes but if it was socially acceptable to bite little assholes my mouth would be sore and bloody all the damn time.

Of course, the boys were heartbroken because they were SO excited about getting a dog, and now if you asked me if I wanted a dog I would probably just punch you in the face because I wouldn't know what to say, and I hate it when I don't know what to say. Also I'm a little nuts so displaced anger is one of my go-to strategies. On that note, I joined a gym today; they have a punching bag and I'm pretty excited about displacing my anger onto that. I'm not sure how well it will work but at least I can bash up my fists instead of my mouth for a while. I'll let you know how it goes if I can still type.  I guess if my mouth isn't sore I could use my face, or I could try my toes. Really, I have a lot of body parts that aren't earning their keep on a regular basis.

Anyway, back to this dog thing, because I'm starting to seethe again: I can't decide if I should look for a different dog or if I should just repeatedly punch myself in the face. Undoubtedly, if I look for a dog for long enough, I'll find one. And then I'll convince myself it's a good idea. And then I'll have a dog. And I might have mentioned this before, but I don't want a dog. DOGGAMMIT.

Now it's Monday night and the boys have been cross ALL weekend.  It's Veteran's Day, you know, so it's a LONG weekend, too. And if I wasn't so lazy I'd write an indignant post about how we stiff veterans every damn day so we can give tax breaks to Exxon, but I'm lazy. Did I mention that? So here, have a link to my 2011 Veteran's Day post instead.  Interestingly, as I reread that one, I see that I was about to get some recycled cats. Perhaps I have fall/winter SAD or something that makes me want pets. And by SAD, I mean 'Stupid Ass Decisions'.  It goes nicely with my ADD; what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the severe crossness we've had here ALL this whole LONG INTERMINABLE weekend.  Things are starting to look up, though, as bedtime approaches. Only a few more hours and the boys will have survived by the skin of their teeth. I was going to work at home tomorrow but I'm going to work at the crack of dawn because I don't want to push my luck.  If I'm feeling generous and have a little magically regenerated patience I might even brush my teeth first.  I'd go now but the babysitter doesn't get here until morning. DOGGAMMIT.

Well, toodles! When I start repeatedly taking dog's name in vain it's time to hit the wine. Have a good week, my friends!

Quietly making noise

Quietly making noise; I think that’s a Jimmy Buffett song. I would look it up but I’m writing this from my internet-free vacation. It’s sort of a handicap, this googleless existence.  I can barely even remember how we used to figure things out; do you remember?  You would have to ask someone, or go to the library. Funny, you’d think people would be a fuck of a lot smarter these days now that it’s so easy to look something up, but not so much, hmmmmm? Well, I’m not here to muse about technology and stupidity, at least not today. 

I was out running on the beach, and the song came into my head. Like a lemming! Not the whole song, just the phrase ‘quietly making noise’, and it took me a while to work out where it came from. I’m pretty sure it comes from the album ‘Fruitcakes’.  It’s a catchy little tune; you should check it out. The whole album is good. But I’m not here to muse about Jimmy Buffet’s vast catalog, at least not today. 

Naturally, it was crying out to be turned into a blog post, and I started thinking about why that particular phrase was in my head. It’s because I stopped making noise. I lost my voice. It’s easy to do; I had no idea how easy. And it can be hard to find again, especially if you look in the wrong places.  But my voice is important, and so is yours. So is everyone’s. Well, maybe not exactly EVERYONE. Sadly, I don’t get to pick.  It doesn’t have to be loud, just true to you.  But it’s good if it’s loud, too…..

Man, the olden days must have sucked

The power is out at my house right now, going on about hour four.  It took me precisely 17 seconds to figure out why olden day people whipped their kids with leather straps and two by fours.  It’s freezing and there’s no water because the well pump requires electricity.  Fortuitously, as it turns out, my bathtub has been full of water balloons for the last week and a half, so that’s one problem solved.  If we go more than a few hours around with here without flushing this place makes the Hanoi Hilton look like the Taj Mahal.  Next time, though, I’m going to make the boys fill their balloons with wine.  If I get the right swill for them it will probably clean the toilets on the way down too.

And as luck, wretched bitch that she is, would have it, the boys just got home from a weeklong hunting trip and it looks like the filthiest, bloodiest corners of the old west and Quik-e Mart collaboratively exploded in the living room, kitchen, dining room and mud room. There is a squirrel tail on the dining room table, y’all!

There are sheets of water and chunks of trees raining down from the sky. It’s so bad out there that I had to use the leather strap AND the lumber to get the kids out of the house. Man, the olden days must have been EXHAUSTING. My arms are going to be sore for a week, I swear.

Update, hour six:  the generator readily powers two lamps, the fridge, the television and the phone charger, but I have been unable to configure it to supply wine or muck out the mountain of dirty clothes, food wrappers and squirrel parts. It also appears to not have an autodestruct sequence or an option to spray out chloroform.  Frankly, I’m pretty disappointed in the Honda people. I mean, generator suppliers should be aware of what sufferers of power outages REALLY need; this is just common sense.  No wonder this place is going to hell in a handbasket; corporate America has lost touch with the people.

Update, hour nine: Power restored, generator dented with boot, minions dispatched to wine store. And all is right with the world.