Ravens of Doom

Maybe you've been wondering what's become of me. Or maybe not. Whichever, I don't care. As it happens, though, I have been working out of town. WAY out of town. And since I have been traveling I thought it would be a good idea to do some travel writing. What is that called? Travelogues? Something like that; watch out Rick Steves!  So, hmmmmm, where to start? A good beginning is so important when it comes to good travel writing. Otherwise it would be super boring: I got on an airplane and the seat was too small, then I went to this place, and saw some stuff and ate some food. Snoresville, am I right?  In fact I should probably just admit right here I have never read one single word of any travel writing, ever, because it is so deadly dull, and therefore have not even the slightest idea how to do it. Oh well, that never stopped me before! I'm just gonna jump right in, how bad can it be?

First of all, the stupid TSA confiscated my corkscrew. And they didn't just take it quickly so I could be on my way. No, it was a whole ordeal.  See, somehow,  I have NO clue how, it had found its way into the backpack I use to tote my computer back and forth from work.  The backpack had to go through the scanner TWICE, then they searched it by hand, STOLE my corkscrew, and then ran it through AGAIN.  In the meantime, I was forced to stand there with my collection of two computers, iPad, and multiple phone/devices. It was very depressing to confront the fact that I should have been able to launch an array of satellites or at least hack into the FoxNews website to endorse gay marriage across the land but instead my efforts will produce nothing but a prodigious stack of questionable paperwork.  And me without a corkscrew, sigh.

Finally, my spirit adequately squashed, I was allowed to continue on my journey. In an airplane seat that was too small. Now, the purpose of this particular journey was to assess some disaster damage in a bunch of freezing cold and remote places.  Places that you have to get to in teeny tiny airplanes that are wired together with walrus guts and polar bear spit. If you don't die in an icy fiery crash first, of course.  Because I am opposed to dying in such an undignified fashion, I put the kibosh on the wings of deadly carnage and instead we evaluated damages remotely.  From a toasty warm office that was apparently riddled with bacterial pneumonia spores. It was a really tough choice, deciding whether to plunge into the frozen tundra at high velocity or hack up blood. I went with door number two, which has worked out relatively well for me so far. I weaseled out of a boring meeting because germs! And one of my coworkers brought me salami and orange juice and kleenex because I can't leave my hotel room, because the blood will freeze in the air on the way down because it's like 12 below, and then I might slip on it and hurt myself. Also, every time I leave the room there are ravens following me. Ravens of doom. They are waiting for me to die so they can devour my bloody flesh and peck my eyes out.  Actually, they might not even wait. Especially the big shiny one. He talks to me. Caw! Caw! Caw!

I have to go home tomorrow, though. In an airplane seat that is too small. So I'm working on a strategy.  I'm going to save all the hacked-up blood and use it to fashion what appears to be a bloody corpse out of pillows. This room has at least eight giant ones, they won't miss a couple. Then, when I get outside, I'm going to throw them at the ravens and make a break for it. Wish me luck! I'm leaving my new corkscrew for the maid, along with all my dirty clothes and a few books. I can't have that stuff slowing me down. If you never hear from me again, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

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.

Yellow

****WARNING for Helen: immediately below this warning is a picture of my foot. It probably won't traumatize you as much as this one, but you are likely to suffer moderate discomfort. Please click here for Hilarity in Shoes, which I think you will like much better than feet****

Well, I guess the Easter bunny can live to terrify small children for another year. I caved in and bought the yellow coat this morning, so there will be no need to skin his yellow fur off for a cape. Wait, if you didn't read yesterday's post, you will probably have NO IDEA what I'm talking about, even though it makes PERFECT SENSE. So, let me explain. No, there is no time. Let me sum up. See, I had this brilliant plan to..... Oh, NEVER MIND. It's a long story, and trust me, the scheme was genius beyond words. In any case, it ends like this: I have a beautiful new yellow coat. So beautiful that I painted my toenails to match it. I do like sandal season but sadly, it appears that boot season may be behind me. Bittersweet, I know, and as a result I have been thinking ALL DAY about my motorcycle boots that I lost in the great Osan mold epidemic of '08. Oh, those would have been SO AWESOME with my new yellow coat.

Also, I noticed another problem caused by the fantastic new coat: it's sort of like when you put in a new kitchen floor, and then you realize how ratty your cabinets and countertops are. Then you replace those, and start noticing the chips in your china and how your pans are all scratched up and how you don't have NEARLY enough wine. No? Maybe it's just me. In the case of the coat, I decided it would look stunning with navy, and I don't have any navy. And maybe some blue and green toned scarves. And a crisp white shirt, and DEFINITELY some new purses. And probably a lot of new open-toed shoes. So you know what happens next, right? Yep, I am for sure taking that sucker back tomorrow. Okay, fine, I am totally just kidding. Wanna go thrifting with me? I will be there every day for AT LEAST the next three weeks. Maybe I will even find some new motorcycle boots!

Well, that's all for now, I have to go rest up for all that shopping. Have a good week, my friends, wherever you are!

Easter

Happy Easter! Oh, I know Easter is not actually until tomorrow. I have just never felt especially bound by convention, and besides, my sister did all the work and she said we were having Easter today. If she hadn't done all the work, we wouldn't have even HAD Easter. I told that to some people in the office the other day and they looked at me as if I had two heads, both with horns. I didn't realize not wanting to tell lies to your kids about some giant imaginary rabbit and then bust your ass to hide eggs full of sugar and chemicals for them to ingest was so controversial. But I guess it is.

So, we went to Grandpa's house, he cooked a ham, Jennifer made all the kids lovely baskets, Stefan hid about 4,372 eggs and a great time was had by all. Even the dogs and the garden statues were all decked out for the occasion. You'll note Ranger has a yellow Easter bunny attached to his collar. Do you guys think the Easter bunny really is yellow? I'm not a huge fan of holidays in general, especially ones that create work for me, and I've been coveting that snappy lemon-colored coat, you know. But I could go with a fur cape, too. The ears could attach around the front in a jaunty bow, what do you think? I've seen pink and green Easter bunnies, too, though, and those aren't really my colors so much. At least this season. Oooh, that gives me an idea for winter, too: can't you just see me in a deep red velvet? With white trim!

The kids especially enjoyed playing in the dirt pile in the driveway- they got out bowls and dumped in some pond water to make concrete. Something about the Easter bunny sleeping with the fishes, I dunno. You don't think my cape will be ruined if he gets waterlogged, do you? One thing I really require in a garment is that it can be easily laundered. I suppose he has to shower, what with all that hopping and egg-delivering, so you'd think it could go in the wash. In any event, all four of the kids got all muddy, marked up the garbage bins with dirty handprints to trick Grandpa into thinking there were aliens there, dug holes in the lawn, made piles to look like poop and threw dirt clods at each other. Then Jennifer came out and gave me the stinkeye for letting them get so dirty. I keep thinking she'll stop letting me watch them one of these days but no luck so far. It was BARELY questionable activity, anyway, not like they were chasing each other with sharp tools. At least not for very long. Then Stefan finally got sick of the mess and gave them an involuntary hosing down; they threw fits and we all went home. About the usual holiday outing, all things considered.

On the brown sweater front, I have been shopping multiple times with very limited success. I went to Goodwill today and while THE sweater continues to elude me, I did see two things that I dropped off the week before, which always amuses me. I'm not sure why, except that I am apparently very easily entertained.

And that's the Easter report from here; I hope you all have a great weekend!

St. Patrick's Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I just looked it up; I had absolutely no idea that it was a Christian holiday, though I suppose the St. part might have been kind of a giveaway. At least St. Patrick doesn't sound like too much of an asshole, unlike some of those other jerks. In any case, I'm a fan of any saint that properly appreciates beer and drunken nakedness. I've never understood why we need a special day for that; usually I just call it 'Thursday'.

We are having a pretty standard weekend here, bizarre holiday or no. The boys are out cutting up sticks in the back yard after having collected a plastic container full of innocent unsuspecting spiders, constructed some sort of robot out of a flashlight, broken toys, nails and fishing line, and dug a hole to China in the lawn. There is also a small pile of charred debris on the back porch; I'm not even going to ASK about that, as I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Additionally, I am deeply regretting the day in December when I optimistically purchased a thrift store set of approximately nine billion poker chips in a spinning holder for a Christmas present for them. I was thinking of how nicely it would supplement their math education, of course.

I'm sure you know where this is going. Those cursed plastic tokens are all over the house, and Shane will be asking for Jack and Coke and plotting a road trip to Vegas any day now. On the other hand, Weston's most recent math lesson consisted of some algebra problems that are probably not addressed in most first grade curricula. Most likely the poker chips were instrumental, and now he can develop some brilliant casino scam for Shane to execute. Then I'm taking my cut right off the top and going to the spa. With wine. At least that's what I tell myself every time I get another one of those damn things jammed into my foot.

Hmmmm, what else? Oh, yes. There is a woolly bear caterpillar loose in the house. Apparently, it was released from the container it lives in for a little exercise, and Shane was supposed to be 'babysitting' it to keep it from getting lost but fell down on the job. Also, there are traps set around the living room. The traps consist of balls wrapped in blankets. See, you step on the blanket, not realizing there is a ball in there and you slip and fall. It's surprisingly effective. Geez, forget the spa and just bring on the wine, baby! And make it snappy, because now Shane is planning to acquire four baby cheetahs. He's a resourceful little thing, too, I wouldn't rule it out.

Have a good weekend, my friends! I was planning to lounge on the couch with wine but now I'm scared of accidentally falling asleep and getting cheetah-mauled. I'm definitely in the market for a good plan B. I can't cross the living room so I might be stuck here at the computer. I'll see you on Facebook as soon as I finish my wine delivery order.

2011

**** updated to add: there is a duck in my backyard. I am not even kidding. Does it not recognize the danger it's in, just traipsing around willy-nilly in suburban back yards? I thought wild animals were supposed to be wily. The jokes are just boiling over right now, dying to come out, but I have already promised Ina, as you can see below. Curses!

It's the very last day of 2011, can you believe it? I was just looking for last year's 'Goodbye, 2010, I Hate You with an Unending Passion' post so I could compare, but I guess I hated 2010 so much that I didn't write one. It seems unlike me, but I guess you never know what wacky thing I might do, or not do, next. Oh well, it's probably better; who needs to read a bunch of dreariness from the past when we can look to the future and talk about delicious squirrels or similar? For example, look at the picture of my backyard this morning! See all those beautiful, tender birds??? The bite-sized ones are best, I hear.

Naturally, though, I can't do a New Year's post without remembering the best New Year's Eve ever, when Janelle's washing machine caught fire and her cat saved their entire family. I didn't write the part about the cat before, but it's 100% true. Because she has multiple small children, her washing machine is always running, including in the middle of the night on New Year's Eve. They turned on the 6,583rd load of the day, shut the cats in the laundry room and went to bed. Pretty soon, they were awakened by Speedy's unholy yowling and frantic scratching. It could have been because he was choking to death on the belching black smoke but I prefer to think he was thinking only of his loving family. And that, C Mike, is why we don't eat cats.

Let's see, what else? I would keep going on the dog/squirrel/cat/bird eating theme, only Aunt Ina wrote me a note yesterday and told me I was very gross. I guess she's kind of squeamish. Also, she is one of those people that feeds the squirrels in her back yard. I'm not kidding, she has at least three feeders and she goes through sunflower seeds and peanuts like I go through wine. So Happy New Year, Ina! I will try to not gross you out for at least a month.

I hope you all have a fantastic New Year's Eve and a great start to 2012 tomorrow. I don't have any big plans to go out and drink too much and get in a ridiculous fight with friends or family members, because I can do that without leaving my house. It's much cheaper and more convenient that way, plus I don't have to wear spanx and lipstick. I'm practical that way. But tomorrow, I plan on making the most of the traditional New Year's Day thrift store shopping spree. All of a sudden, I have a compelling need for some very small saute pans. Happy New Year, y'all!

Holy Cat Yak

Happy Boxing Day! I had quite the adventure today, you guys will be so jealous! I don't even know where to start. We had the cousins over today and it was NUTS. I'm not exactly sure how this happened, but somehow it was agreed that my sister would drop off her charming children at my house and go shopping. Sounds pretty promising, right? I mean, what could go wrong? The kids LOVE to play together.

And, in fact, it did go along pretty swimmingly for quite a while. After about 11 million hours of providing free child care, though, Shane and Teddy announced that they had been cutting the curtains. Sure that they would NEVER actually be slicing up the drapes, I responded casually, and returned to sifting through the 73 pounds of debris I dumped out of my bags while looking for my missing work watch. They were a little too quiet for a little too long, so I went back over there and questioned them more thoroughly about this cutting the curtains thing. Sure enough, they had very efficiently snipped through the better part of two panels. A little annoying, sure, but the thing that really pisses me off is that after all that work they have neither play clothes for themselves nor an elegant gown for me to show for it. Clearly, they have not been watching enough television, which I started to remedy as soon as they got back from their time-outs for being such slackers.

All that scissor work apparently made them hungry, so I whomped up plates of color coordinated orange snacks: cheez-its, carrots and oranges. I looked for orange downers to crush up and sprinkle on top but I didn't have any and had to go with the standard white ones. While they were sitting there inhaling the goods, the cat yakked up on the living room floor. It had ribbon in it. I will have no more to say about that. Ever.

Then, Jennifer came back. I was so happy. Until she plopped herself down in front of my computer and continued shopping. She didn't even bring me any wine, my watch is still missing, and my sedatives are all gone. HELP ME.

Dead Cat Christmas

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you had a great day, with plenty of presents and wine! I got lots of wine, leftovers from my sister's traditional Christmas Eve soup and sammies party. I was going to go to the party, but I heard Lillian was going to call me a chipmunk, so I stayed home. And since I didn't go, there was plenty of leftover hooch for me to drink today. So that worked out nicely. For me.

It was a very rainy and windy day until late in the afternoon, so the kids had to stay inside and shriek. Luckily we were at Grandpa's house; there's a little more cousin tackling space and Grandpa can't hear. For the rest of us, there was the leftover wine. I just jammed the corks in my ears and bottoms up, my friends! I was going to post a short video, but I think I'll just spare you. Consider it a little Christmas gift from me to you. You're welcome!

Then Jennifer and I went down to the Carol tree in the storm. It's a hemlock, and it's at the park on the lake near my parents' house. That was super fun, and frigidly cold except for the broiling hot tears coursing down our faces. Wait, where did that wine go? Oh yeah, I drank it all because I deeply appreciate its numbing qualities. The afternoon improved, weather-wise, and I went for brisk little trail run, which has improved my disposition remarkably, until tomorrow, when my thighs will feel like badgers have been chewing on them again.

And, that's the Christmas report from the house of dead cats. Merry Christmas, y'all!

Elk Poop. Oh, Honey, You Shouldn't Have. Really.

Merry Christmas Eve, my sweet friends! What did you do today? Whatever it was, I bet you didn't get to see elk poop. It was a beautiful day here in the Pacific Northwest after raining all night. I know this because the cats woke me up at least thirteen times by rolling around in the wrapping paper I left on the floor and I could hear the rain pounding the roof every single time.

The clouds started to lift about mid-morning and we packed up and headed to Elkville. Lloyd mocked me for toting along a huge backpack filled with food, water, antibiotics, rappelling gear and a rubber raft, but I've been out in the woods with him before. I'll write about it someday, after I'm over the PTSD, but for now just remember that if we are ever out triangulating together and I tell you to move your compass away from the truck before you get your bearing because the needle is pointing straight at the engine block, you should listen to me.

Moving on, because I'm starting to twitch and my medication is in the backpack: check out the pictures! We traversed some twisty logging roads that went high, high into some steep terrain. In fact, it was so twisty, high and steep that Shane commented, 'I would be damn scared if I had to walk all the way up here.' Four, people. He is FOUR. My mother is rolling over in her handcrafted artisan urn right this very second. There were no actual elk, but Lloyd was thrilled to see the piles of droppings. Personally, when it comes to elk poop, I can take it or leave it, but live and let live, I always say! There were also tons of birds and some very cool rocks.

I hope you all have a fantastic Christmas! As for me, I can hardly wait for Lloyd to plunge his hand into his stocking on Christmas morning.

Early

Happy weekend, my friends! I got up super early this morning, probably because I went to bed at 6:30 last night, and I was out early enough to see the total lunar eclipse. It was very cool; I had a fantastic view through the branches of the denuded maple tree in the front yard. I tried to get some pictures but failed miserably; one of these days I'm going to take another photography class. So often I can visualize what a picture should look like but can't make the camera do what I want.

Oooh, that reminds me of a story: A long, long time ago, I was in Electric City, taking some samples from a quarry, I think, and I came across this fence with hard hats all over it. In all different colors. The sky was really blue and if you looked at it a certain way it looked like balloons and I could just see the picture I wanted. This was in the pre-digital camera days, so I was fiddling with the controls on my old 35 mm and snapping shot after shot from different angles, even laying on the ground and shooting up. Before long, a gate opened, and this little tiny and very strange looking man sidled out. Because the gate was open, I could see that the yard was full of all sorts of metal objects and other junk. I don't remember what he said, and he wasn't mean in any way, but he TERRIFIED me, because it was clear that his driveway didn't go all the way to the street, in the words of one of my coworkers who definitely should not be throwing stones if you know what I mean. I stammered out what I was doing, and he grabbed a hard hat off the fence, plopped it on my head, took the camera and took a picture of me. Then he gave the camera back and scurried back inside the yard and shut the gate. I ran out of there so fast your head would spin, and naturally, not a single one of my pictures was worth a damn. Except that last one of me. It actually wasn't bad. And I can STILL see in my head what that blasted hard hat picture should have looked like.

Oh well, what can you do, right? Anyway, back to this morning: there was a pretty thick frost on the ground and my rake was still laying on the ground where I left it the last time I thought about cleaning up the leaves on the ground. While I was standing there, just watching the moon, I thought I would warm up by running the rake for a little while. This was completely unsuccessful because the leaves were frozen onto the ground in a sort of mat-like fashion. It almost might remind one of a orange and yellow quilted lawn-cozy, in fact. I was tempted to see if I could just roll it up but my hands were already freezing. I figure those leaves have been laying there for months; they can lay there a little while longer. Or a lot longer, if I'm being totally honest. And you know good and well I always am.

Now I'm working hard at whomping up some hippie Christmas presents, and man, does my kitchen smell awesome. That doesn't happen very often so it's extra enjoyable, mmmmmmmm. I think I might take a blanket and pillow in there and sleep on the floor. I hope you all have a great weekend!

Sunday

Holy cow, people! Look at me go! I think this is my seventh post this week. I missed a day, but I did two on Monday. This is the second to last thing I should be doing, right in front of boot shopping, because eleventy jillion people are coming over for early Thanksgiving this afternoon and the place is a mess and there's no food. It's just the family, though, and they've met me so probably aren't expecting much better. Dad is bringing the turkey, fortunately for me, and Jen is bringing dessert. So really, all I need to do is wash some forks and open wine. The aunts are coming also, though, so my excellent manners are hounding me to mash potatoes and make stuffing. Maybe even some vegetables, because I'm an overachiever that way. I'll get right on it as soon as I finish blogging and boot shopping. You might wonder where Lloyd is, and observe correctly that this operation would be proceeding much more smoothly and appropriately were he running it instead of me. As luck (bad for me, good for him) would have it, he is taking a refresher course required to maintain his instructor ratings this weekend. That's what he said, anyway, as he tore out of here this morning with an evil laugh, leaving rubber on the driveway.

So, yep, I'm going to get on that pretty soon. Those potatoes won't mash themselves! Unless I invent something. Maybe after I look at some more boots. I don't actually NEED any more boots, of course, especially after I bought some last night. I now have perfectly good black ones AND brown ones, and still I want MORE. It's a sickness. I am close to justifying it, though, with all the money I've been saving on shampoo and conditioner. I haven't used a single drop of either one for at least two weeks, so I figure if I keep it up, the boots will pay for themselves in only 94 more weeks. Of course, I do incur a cost for the baking soda and apple cider vinegar replacements, but we already buy that stuff by the bushel for volcano making and the like, so it's practically free. Plus, I am almost out of my store bought hippie deodorant and am about to switch to homemade, so that will be an extra couple of bucks a month.

All right, FINE, I'm going now. I just remembered I also have to police the house for pee balloons. Not everyone is as tolerant of such things as you guys are. Oh, it might be too late- one of the boys just said 'I smell something stinky!', and their standards are pretty low. I'll try to provide a full report later. I know you're dying to know what the boots look like.

Travesty

You guys are not going to believe this, but I did NOT win the chili cook-off! I know, I am stunned beyond words, too. I DID receive a 'participant' certificate, which I spitefully pasted over a real award won recently by my office mate. I also came home with some chili in my hair and a small pancake griddle burn on my right index finger, and I'm pretty sure my cowboy hat is not a lucky hat. I'm going to try to shake it off, though. Because what else are you going to do, right? On the bright side, I am now out of kidney beans and I re-discovered my love affair with Fritos.

Did you know that if you set a Frito on fire, it will hold a flame like a candle? Because they are a dual purpose and delicious snack food, they are an excellent addition to your emergency kit. Just your Dead Cat emergency management tip for today! A blogger named Snack Girl experimented for you so you don't have to run to the store right this very second. You can see her analysis here, though I have to note that I don't entirely trust someone who calls herself 'Snack Girl' and doesn't have a robust appreciation for potato chips. I don't even want to consider what she might think of Skittles. And now that you mention it, I am very curious about what would happen if I set some Skittles on fire.

I am now wiping the chili travesty right out of my head forever. MY MIND IS A BLANK SLATE, PEOPLE! Where was I? Oh yeah, Fritos....MMMMMMMMMMmmmm........

Chili? What chili? I have no idea what you're talking about. Weren't we talking about cats? In the most recent cat news, Jake and Henry have been clamoring to get outside, so tomorrow we are going collar/tag shopping. Also Skittles shopping.

Let's see, what else? I went to the library today at lunch and picked up an entire book about Twitter. Is it just me, or does that seem the tiniest bit strange? I will definitely let you know if there is a book's worth of stuff about Twitter that you need to know.

In holiday news, we are having an early Thanksgiving party with the fam this weekend. I have some pumpkin in the freezer and was thinking of making a pumpkin/coconut milk/ginger soup but for some reason my soup making confidence is shot. I have no idea why; it's like there's this big void in my brain when I try to think of cooking or soup, and all I can think of is salty crunchy processed corn products. Weird.

Have a good weekend, and try to stay dry, my friends. I don't know about where you are, but around here it's going to be soggy! Funny, now all I can think of is boots.

Veteran's Day

Happy Veteran's Day! I actually think our veterans would be much better served with adequate pay, benefits and support than with a day of celebration in November. I guess it's a nice gesture. That makes lots of money for corporate America, no doubt. Sort of like Mother's Day and Father's Day. Tons of cashola for retail giants but no family friendly policies anywhere in sight. So that's business as usual. Have a nice day, veterans! Sorry about that TBI; you know how it is. We found a corporation that had to pay a few bucks in taxes, so we have to remedy that instead of fixing your head that we damaged in the first place. Among other issues, veterans are much more likely to be unemployed than non-veterans, and non-veterans aren't doing all that well, employment-wise, these days. Lots of families don't have enough food- it's a great time to donate to Northwest Harvest or a food bank near you. You can probably donate right at the cash register the next time you go grocery shopping.

Anyway, moving on, because that is super depressing, I got a new pair of boots today! The guilt-inducing ones I ordered last week came today. They are quite fabulous, and Shane turned the box into a WALL-E type contraption and wore it around the house all day with nothing else on except his teeny-tiny tighty whities- SUPER CUTE! Also, I discovered what Lloyd and the boys do all day. I strapped Shane in his seat this afternoon to hit the grocery store, and he said, "I would like to go to Starbucks for a hot chocolate and a blueberry scone, please."

Sorry I didn't post all week- I MEANT to, but there was this giant hurricane-ish storm in the Bering Sea so I had to work from 0'dark thirty to a million o' clock all week. Lloyd was gone, too, requiring painful, expensive and exhausting child care machinations. Thank God I get a celebratory day in May! I'm not sure about this standard time thing, either. It seems like it shouldn't be THAT big of a deal but I have not been sleeping properly ever since we fell back. It's such a stupid idea, anyway: it's not as if we REALLY get any more daylight. I have an idea! Let's donate Mother's Day, and bust it up into 24 one hour chunks, which we can then spread out for an actual extra hour on 24 different days! Brilliant, right?

And call me crazy, but I am getting some new-to-me cats tomorrow. I found them on Craigslist, and one of them looks exactly like Henry! We have been easing into the idea for a while, but the Fur Real cat Weston got at the Goodwill last week was the final straw for Lloyd. He said if we're going to have that creepy hideous thing around here, we might as well have real cats, as long as they're free. Lloyd has a real aversion to paying good money for used cats, especially if that money could be used for hot chocolates and blueberry scones. I'll keep you posted.

Have a good weekend!

Columbus Day

Man, Columbus sure is getting a bad rap lately. Come ON, people; he didn't personally steal land from some adorable rosy-cheeked pappooses, you know! He was LONG dead by the time the pappooses had to go to crappy reservations and work in baby sweatshops making dreamcatchers, bear claw necklaces and fringed leather jackets. I'm not necessarily defending him but I AM getting a little concerned he might get his day-off-from-work-in-October celebratory occasion stripped from him. I don't really care so much as long as it gets replaced by Sacajawea Day or similar. I'm an equal opportunity day-off-from-work enjoyer; I'm kind of awesome that way.

I hope you all had a nice holiday weekend. Nothing too exciting here- we changed over the car emergency kits to the winter version. It's an excellent time to put a blanket and hats and jackets for everyone in there if you haven't already done it. It's also a good time to change the batteries in your smoke alarms and flashlights, check the expiration dates on your emergency supplies, clean the bathrooms and perform those other pesky semi-annual chores. Oh, and start bulb shopping!

It's getting cooler, and so Lloyd took the boys shopping for a few fall/winter things. I sent a list, of course, but it doesn't really matter, does it? I've tried super detailed instructions, but that never works, because Lloyd says he can't read my writing. I have to give him that one, because truly, my penmanship is virtually illegible. It's never been good, but since the dawn of the digital age it's really gone downhill. Seriously, who cares? It's pretty much a waste of finger muscles. Pretty soon we're all going to have hands like tree frogs, and those scrawny things can't write worth a damn, or so I hear. I have an idea to solve this problem, though: a specific and reward-linked list. Come home with the proper item, and you get the commensurate reward. Here's an example:

- Size 8 olive colored cargo pants = new fishing lure

- Aveeno brand moisturizing lotion spf 30 = 20 minutes beer and tv

See? Use your imagination; the possibilities are endless! You could take the opposite approach, too, and have penalties for the wrong items. They could vary based on how far wrong they are. If you can use the object for the intended purpose you only have to scrub the tub. Like, say, if you get milk chocolate instead of dark. Or merlot instead of cab. But if the purchased object is entirely useless, it's time to clean the basement. Like if you need medical supplies and instead get beer and live fish. This has actually happened to me. I'll come clean here- you know me, always telling the complete unadulterated truth*: I totally got this idea from the Berenstain Bears, in a tome entitled 'The Berenstain Bears Forget Their Manners'. As true Berenstain Bears scholars know, Mama Bear doesn't always treat Papa Bear with the utmost respect, often relating to him the same way she does Brother Bear and Sister Bear, in this case doling out chores as penalties for bad manners. I'm generally not a fan of this sort of marital dynamic but sometimes a bear's got to call it like she sees it, am I right? In any event, I prefer the carrot to the stick, myself, though I can see that the carrot approach is going to be a lot more expensive and won't help my house get clean.

We also took the boys to see 'Dolphin Tale'; have you seen it? It's about a real dolphin named Winter, who has a prosthetic tail. It was cute, if a little cheesy. You can see her for realsies at seewinter.com. The over-the-top stuff is all fictionalized and consists of a cute but troubled kid whose love for the dolphin helps him overcome his troubles, his swimming champion cousin who has been injured and traumatized while serving in the army, and an evil land developer who wants to turn the marine hospital into a resort. Geez, really? They had to make up a bunch of run of the mill melodrama to jazz the story up? A dolphin with an engineered tail isn't good enough by itself? Because that is pretty freaking cool, if you ask me.

And that's all the news for today; what's going on at YOUR house??

*Lloyd would perhaps take issue with this; he didn't like how I said he was opposed to electric guitars in the church post the other day. To be fair, he does tolerate them, though he PREFERS their non-presence. They are not in the same category as sheet metal, which he simply will not abide. Nonetheless, I will have to insist that the statement still qualifies as TRUE.

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July! I don’t know about you guys, but for me, this year is DEFINITELY going to be better than last year. Independence Day 2010 started out fine. For the most part. Sure, we were living out of duffel bags in a tiny garage apartment that was far away from a thrift store, we had no jobs, and we were having Air Force withdrawal trauma. On that last one, by ‘we’, I mean Lloyd. OBVIOUSLY. I WAS having thrift store withdrawal trauma, though. Which is WAY worse.

But the early light of the glorious fourth last year dawned bright and clear; we probably could have seen the broad stripes and bright stars flying over Fort McHenry from our ramshackle abode if we’d squinted just a little. We had relatives in town and a cookout on tap. My dad had picked up a discarded self-propelled airplane from the park where he goes to walk the dog. At least, he SAYS it was discarded. I hope some poor little kid isn’t waking up this Independence Day all sad about the airplane some mean guy with a big dog stole from him last year. Either way, the kids were having a blast flying that thing around the yard when destiny guided it to a gentle landing on the roof. Lloyd bounded upstairs to go out onto the roof through a second story window to retrieve it, and all hell broke loose, along with skin, muscle, multiple blood vessels and most importantly, a tendon. You can read what I wrote about it then, and look at the gory picture.

Thus began the worst six months of my entire life, including the six months between April and October of 2007 when I was enormously pregnant and Lloyd had to go to the sandbox and I had to travel around the country with a toddler and then be on bedrest for my high blood pressure and then have a baby by myself in a Louisiana hospital and then move to Korea. No, that was a walk in the park compared to the descent into the ninth circle of hell of 2010. Hmmmm, now I can’t decide if I should bore you with all the dreary specifics or not. There’s something very satisfying about describing all my travails in painful detail, right up until everyone starts to call me Crybaby McWhinypants and throw rotten tomatoes at me. Now, THAT would suck, because only spoiled potatoes and dead rats are worse that rotten tomatoes.

Maybe just the tiniest little smidge of a description, for a speck of holiday self-indulgence: Starting July 4, 2010, Lloyd was unable to move his left hand and had to have reconstructive surgery followed by intensive physical therapy multiple times a week. We were living in a garage apartment with one car. He could not drive, carry groceries or children, cook, clean or write blog entries about how miserable was. He could, however, verbalize his dismay at his sudden predicament. Which he did. Also at this time, my mother was having chemo and requiring daily trips to the cancer center, followed by five weeks in the hospital. During this period, I had a job interview. Then she came home on hospice. I got a job offer, and we had to find a new house near my new job, and take delivery of our household goods. This consisted of two semi-truckloads and houses full, one from storage in Louisiana and one from Korea. These things, all 17,000 pounds of them, had to be placed into our small house or otherwise disposed of. Remember Lloyd’s hand? ME, TOO. We had promised Weston as soon as we had a house, he could have a cat, so we got Henry. Perhaps you recall him. Then my mother died. This was followed by a giant steaming pile of necessary planning, and none of it the fun kind. As soon as Lloyd could drive, he had to fly to the east coast to bring his truck, boat, bee hives, pine beams and other assorted items back. These things, too, had to be somehow incorporated into our tiny new home. On the way back, the truck and boat both required expensive repairs and an extended stay in some podunk town in Montana. THEN, I started my new job. You can read about the very first day here, when I had my pants come undone and spilled tea all over my brand new cube. After a while, miracle of miracles, things started looking up. Lloyd could move his hand, the boxes started to disappear, and I was settling into my job. My mother was still dead, but maybe I was getting a little more used to it. And then Henry died.

Wow, that sounds really bad, now that I look at it in black and white. See what I mean? There’s no place to go but up from there, right? Happy Fourth of July and God Bless America. Pass the beer and the roman candles, and make it snappy! I have a lot of life improvements to make and if there's something that can’t be made better with alcohol and fireworks, I don't know what it is. At least that's how it works in Auburn, where I come from.

Fruits and Nuts

I MIGHT have previously expounded about Lloyd’s excellent health habits. He takes fish oil, eats almonds and blueberries every day, and drinks apple cider vinegar and green tea instead of beer and coffee. I can occasionally tempt him into an alcoholic beverage but I have to put on a belly dancing outfit first, which I don’t do very often because it’s winter time and I don’t like to jingle. He’s been hounding me for AGES to improve my own substandard techniques for maintaining my health. I would totally do it, too, if he would just put on a belly dancing outfit, but that needs to stay our little secret, okay?

Whenever he offers me a cod liver oil, I get all excited thinking he has one of those beers from a microbrewery that thinks they need some clever, edgy name like Dog's Butt or Arrogant Bastard but then I realize he is actually planning to drink fluid squeezed out of a (hopefully) dead fish and I just say, ‘Awwww, shut up and bring me another beer’. You'd think I'd learn instead of getting my hopes up day after day after day. Don't you totally think Cod Liver Ale is an awesome name for a beer? You heard it here first.

He has a few years on me so it's been working out pretty well for me so far. But now, the worm has turned and its underbelly is not pretty. He’s starting get compliments on how well he’s holding up and I’m….. not. No one says, ‘Oh my, those bags under your eyes are simply radiant! What’s your secret??', now do they? Does anyone admire my pasty skin or how my reading glasses magnify my crow's feet? The answer to both of these questions and many, many more is: NO, THEY DO NOT.

This was getting on my nerves, so I thought I'd mend my ways. I started small: blueberries instead of Skittles, dry air-popped popcorn instead of my beloved sea salt and black pepper potato chips. It was getting pretty dreary, so my mind started to wander, as it tends to do. As visions of pepperoni sticks danced in my head, I realized my life would be much simpler and more pleasant if I could just drag him down to my level. So I bought him a big sack of giant beers for Christmas. High alcohol content, family-sized beers. And a double beer bong. As you can clearly see, I have high hopes for 2011. Merry Christmas, y'all!

Thanksgiving

Check it out, people! White Thanksgiving! We have had the craziest weather this week.

If you live in a place where it regularly snows, you would pee your pants if you saw what happens here with a little snow accumulation. Total gridlock on the roads, jackknifed buses, people stuck on the freeway for twelve hours or more, going nowhere. Seriously, it is complete pandemonium.

Lucky for me, I live about two miles from my office and didn't have any trouble commuting. Not so lucky for me, I had to take a little field trip with one of my new co-workers. Not too far, it probably normally takes about an hour. The trip there wasn't that bad; the storm was just starting. I knew how stupid it was to be heading out, too, but what are you going to do, right? The trip back was pretty brutal, though. I was almost dead certain I was going to have to kill and eat him, then pick my teeth with his beard hairs. I'm so new in the office that the people there haven't yet learned how hostile I can be when I don't get my snacks in a timely manner. If anyone from there is reading this, I like Skittles. And make it snappy, 'kay? Or you might regret it.

YES, this DOES have something to do with Thanksgiving, geez! This year I am thankful that I wasn't hauled to the pokey with bloodstains on one of my fancy new office blouses. Those things are hell to get out, you know.

Moving on, because most of you probably aren't fans of cannibalism, the snow turned to rain about mid-morning and the roads cleared quickly. We had a lovely dinner here at our house with all the fam, and Lloyd didn't even stage a surprise emergency drill, though I suspect he was SORELY tempted. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you; I hope you have had a fabulous day!

Halloween, Again

Wow, it's Halloween again. Last year at this time we were having a party at Hallasan Tower with our friends, and trying to perfect a treat-dispensing funnelator, because getting up to answer the door was cutting into our drinking time. This year, our friends are in Alabama, California, Virginia and Florida. Some of them have a new baby and others have one on the way. We moved halfway across the world, and oh yeah, my mother's dead. Crazy.

Funny, I thought I had a lot more to say, but I guess not so much. Happy Halloween, my friends! Eat plenty of candy, and don't trouble yourselves about poisoned treats. Just so you know, there has never been a documented case of halloween candy poisoning by a stranger. Click here to read an article about it. You should still stay away from those homemade popcorn balls, though, because those things are GROSS.