Well, dammit

My head hurts. I think it might be because I brushed my teeth with beer this morning. About ninety times. What? You don't brush your teeth with beer? You probably don't live in a swamp, then. That's why. You probably live in some kind of fancy ass house where water, glorious municipality-provided chlorinated fluid of the gods, flows out of the taps. See, it's freezing here in the swamp. The pipes in the well house froze up WHILE I was in the shower this morning. I had barely gotten last night's beer rinsed off and had just soaked my head and squeezed some shampoo into my hand when the pounding hot liquid fruits of my swamp-well slowed to a trickle, then stopped completely. I twisted the knob this way and that, and looked disbelievingly at the sticky clump of Neutrogena in my hand for at least thirty seconds before I figured it out. Guess how you solve this problem? After you brush your teeth with beer for a long time, I mean- yep, you hike out into the arctic morning with a soaking wet head toting some sort of warming device FOR THE WELL HOUSE. I felt like freaking Ma Kettle, or Ma Ingalls, or Ma Joad, or whichever Ma had the most agonizing collection of suffering combined with a demoralizing lack of sufficient beer and bad hair.

Then I had to go to work like that. Luckily I have been using this awesome deodorant made out of approximately equal parts coconut oil and baking soda mixed with a few drops of tea tree oil so I didn't stink too bad. My armpits, anyway. I'm not so sure about the rest of me, but that worked out well for our late afternoon staff meeting to develop performance goals and metrics. We don't have any right now so some people peak out with making it to work on time a couple of times a week.  Well, that's not quite true. We HAVE some metrics but they are (U) unsatisfactory, (S) satisfactory and (E) exceptional and everyone just gets S's because if you get a U or E someone has to do extra administrative work and no one is on board for that. So now, we get to write our own, and there needs to be two levels, 'meets expectations' and 'exceeds expectations', or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention. So, for example, 'meets expectations' could be 'responds to customer inquiry' and 'exceeds expectations' could be 'gives customer correct answer 90% of the time'.  These are not actual examples from today's meeting (these are totally actual examples from today's meeting).  Properly executed, this could work out well for me. The bar should be low enough that I can handily outperform the special snowflakes that are tardy all the time. I'm thinking of a 'meets expectations' goal of 'comes to work sufficiently hygienic when temperatures are above freezing'. Brilliant, right? Well, gotta go- I'm off to lay out tomorrow morning's beer!

Beautiful

Wow, is it a beautiful day! The boys are outside wreaking havoc in their bare feet; it's hard to believe that this was the scene outside my office two days ago:

That is the smoker's shelter outside the office, collapsed under three or four inches of wet snow. Boy, you have never seen such a crabby bunch of tokers, I'm not kidding. But that's all in the past, right? And all that nasty ridiculously late snow is gone. The sun is shining, the dandelions are blooming, and the grass is lush and tasty:

I think we can all see what's wrong with this video, don't you? I was shocked, I tell you, SHOCKED, to learn that Lloyd does not allow the boys to eat grass. I KNOW! What is he thinking? I put a lot of effort into encouraging them to be self-reliant; that really cuts down on the number of cheese quesadillas and peanut butter sandwiches I have to throw at them. Mostly my efforts consist of ignoring their ever more insistent requests for food until they give up and scrounge something for themselves. And really, they are excellent foragers. They know all the edible weeds in the yard and are pretty agile at snapping up bugs. The less food we need, the more cash available for wine! Besides, a little grass never hurt anyone, right?

He probably also doesn't let them jump out of trees, but I didn't want to ask. What I don't know doesn't hurt me, I always say! Not captured on video:

Weston (approximately 10 feet up the apple tree in his bare feet): Can I jump from here?

Me: I don't know, can you?

Weston: Tell me if it's safe!

Me: You'll have to decide for yourself. I don't know if I'd do it, myself, from that high up with no shoes on.

Weston: Will I die?

Me: No.

Weston: But is it safe?

Shane: It's safe! Do it!

Weston: No! (climbs down gingerly)

I think I might be taking this self-reliance thing a little too far, though. When I came out of the shower this morning, I discovered Shane, naked, plunging the toilet and Weston on the computer, shopping for turtles. They're starting to scare me a little, I don't mind saying. I'm pretty sure there's no going back now, though. All I can do is hang on for the ride. And stock up on wine. Okay, fine, I would do that anyway. WHATEVER.

A Good Bird

****Dead Bird Warning: this post contains dead birds. My more sensitive readers may want to look away now. Please be aware, however, that the birds were long deceased through no fault of my own before I sat down to write and no birds were harmed during the making of this post. I agree, the warning might be a little over the top, but I have such delicate readers these days, and also, I am just now getting those PETA freaks off my back for the whole hamster ball thing.*****

Whew, that was EXHAUSTING. Seriously, I need some fortification before I can even get to the point of my post. But first, I know you all want to know the all-important status of the pool-soaked phone. Sadly, I have to report NO JOY. I did figure out how to get my messages using another phone, only to find out that my jury duty scheduled for tomorrow got cancelled. Too bad for me, I was looking forward to performing my civic duty lounging around the courthouse, watching people crazier than me go by. Naturally, the appeal dims somewhat if I don't have a device upon which I can gossip about the crazy people with all my friends. I can do that at work, of course, which is where I will now be spending my day instead.

I'm trying to be patient on the phone and let the rice work its magic for a while longer but I'm not sure how much longer I can go. I might have to hit the zombie store before bed tonight. Oh, geez, I just thought of something. If I recall correctly, I was going to use my shampoo/conditioner/deodorant money to fund the new phone. I'm not sure what else I can give up, plus I started using shampoo again. Dammit. Anyway, that is NOT what we're talking about today. No, we are talking about A Good Bird. Two good birds, to be precise. A blue jay and a sparrow, to be even more precise. And no, I do not want to argue about blue jays and steller's jays, DAD. They are blue in color, hence they are blue jays. The end.

Moving on, you might remember the rat wars at my house. Well, the rats are back, and the war has been raging on for the last week. In some ways, this is good, because it keeps Lloyd occupied, and you probably know he is very dangerous when he has too much time on his hands. Remember the earthquake exercise? Unfortunately, though, there were a couple of unanticipated bird trappings over the course of this new campaign, or as Lloyd likes to call them, 'acceptable collateral damage/civilian casualties'. This is not unprecedented; we had a near-miss last time when a particularly stupid jay got his noggin skinned when the trap snapped. He was fine, though, he just looked like he had a reverse mohawk for a few days. No such luck this time; the two good birds bought the farm.

When I came home from work, the boys showed me their handiwork: a bird cemetery in the back yard, dug right into the lawn. They did a nice job, don't you think? The birds' names are Shane and Ago (pronounced aggo, not like in 'a long time ago'). I especially like the dandelions and the silver colored shower curtain hanger on Ago's grave. And then, for good measure, they devised a fishing line barrier around the trap to keep any more birds from getting caught. That seems like a pretty good idea, because the trap is surrounded by bird seed. There have been no rat sightings for a couple of days, so maybe the cheese and rat poison savings will offset the cost of my new phone and I can keep my shampoo. That way, everyone wins. Well, except the rats and the two good birds, I guess. As I come to the end of this post, I am really regretting the promise I made to Ina because this would be an excellent spot for some good bird/rat eating jokes. Oh well, I always keep my promises, so have a good night, everyone!

Pass the Frozen Chickens and Make it Snappy

Check out my new brainstorm, you guys! This is a plan for improvements to my office. And boy, could it use some! See, I live in a four-cube room with three excellent cubers. That's like a neighbor, only in a cube. Like a cubeneighbor, get it? The problem is the other people that so often want to come into our blissful kingdom. Seriously, sometimes someone wanders in there that's a real pain. You would not even believe it if I told you. Another problem is the cynical and not-necessarily-complimentary opinions are always flying around freely, and loudly, in our flunkie haven, if you get my drift. We have been debating the most effective alarm system for some time now. We're a Government operation, you know; we can't do anything too quickly. The best candidate until I had my epiphany this morning was one of those annoying santas with a sensor that says 'ho ho ho' when someone goes by. We could probably get one for 75% off now, too, which is good because everyone is so stingy with their damn tax dollars these days.

I was just minding my own beeswax this morning when it happened. It was bright and early and I was listening to a little Meat Loaf and having some coffee when all of a sudden the whole scheme just came to me. It's like a curse, y'all! My favorite part is the frozen chicken cannons, because they can be totally recycled. See, you fire the cannons, then barbecue the ammo using the pedal-powered generator, then you toss the carcasses to the alligators in the moat.

The rest is pretty self-explanatory, but I should point out that my cube is the one on the left in the back, where the command and control center and the escape hatch are located. That is because I am definitely the brains of our operation and if we get overrun I need to get out so I can re-establish our empire somewhere else in the building. Normally you would find me curled up in a ball under my desk whimpering, but if the chicken cannons fail I'm definitely bailing, and quick. I'm leaving the alligators, though, because they're kind of stinky.

I bet you think I'm kidding. Oh, you have no idea..... Have a good weekend!

Sweet

I had the sweetest day today! I woke up this morning and looked out the back yard at the sheep farm to see an awesome sunrise. Then, the boys and I did our morning chores and headed out to make our rounds. First we visited Grandpa, which is always a popular destination, possibly partly because of the chips and cookies that are always readily available. Then we went to Jennifer's house, which is the picture with the Christmas bears in front of it. I would arrange the pictures in the proper order, but it never works, so you're just going to have to keep up. Sorry! But I have total confidence in you.

It was a gorgeous day and I had a fantastic walk at the park and then laid on the bio-mat. It's chock-full of vibrating crystals and is supposed to juice you up good. I'm not too sure about that, but it is warm and quiet and a good place for a nap.

Then we came home and I cleaned out the tomato vines, rotated the compost, and inspected the brussels sprouts and cabbages. They've already survived a couple of hard freezes, so I'm thinking they might be indestructible. I'm just going to let them grow; they're part of my emergency kit. They're the perfect post-earthquake food: see the slug holes? You can get your meat and vegetables all at the same time. I've looked into cooking slugs before without too much success, but I have not previously considered slug cabbage rolls.

But wait! It gets even better! There is nothing I like better than giving unsolicited advice and I was presented with a golden opportunity this afternoon. One of my charming friends, who shall remain nameless so she won't kill me, mentioned how annoying her husband is being. Not that I would know anything about that, but I do know a most excellent technique for relieving negative feelings. It's called energy tapping, and I've written about it before. I know, it sounds a little weird but I have used it successfully in multiple ways. So, naturally, I cheerfully offered my expertise in this arena, and I'm sure everything is fine now.

Now I am having wine and watching 'The Cat from Outer Space'; it never gets old! Did I mention the wine? Good night!

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.

Dentistry

I had to go to the dentist today. I would love to go to the dentist if it weren't for all the messing about in my mouth. Otherwise, the combination of the soft reclining chair, the soothing music and the complete lack of anyone harassing me for snacks, robot leg parts or piles of freshly collated paper would make it my favorite place on earth.

I tried to count how many dentists I've had in the last fifteen years. I gave up after six, but I figure it's around ten. I started counting because the dentist asked me who DID THAT to my mouth. It was not a compliment. He was not impressed with several generations of my dental work, and asked me if I had gone to a military dentist. As it happens, I've never done that, but apparently the alternative was not all that great, either. How am I supposed to know, though? And maybe this guy is a big fat chiseling liar. I read this article one time about a guy that did an experiment- he picked about ten dentists out at random and went to each one for a cleaning and checkup and wrote about it. The variation in what he was told was HUGE. Some of them told him his teeth were fine and didn't need work, and others told him he needed THOUSANDS of dollars worth of work IMMEDIATELY or his teeth would explode and fall right out of his head and he would have to eat gruel until the shards got into his brain and killed him dead. I should definitely stop reading.

Very disheartening, especially when you move around all the time, and once you choose a dentist, at least with the military insurance I had, you're stuck, because they'll only pay for the new patient exam once every three years. I have the same insurance now, and I had to eat today's work because they won't pay for the composite filling, only the silver. Rat bastards. I'm pretty cheap but there is no way I'm going to have silver fillings on the front of my teeth. I wonder if there are any do-it-yourself dental kits on the hippie market. If there isn't, there definitely should be. Maybe I should invent one. How hard can it be, right? We already pretty much do home health care. Anytime one of the boys gets wounded, Lloyd slaps some honey on it and covers it up with cotton balls. Their reports of injuries have diminished dramatically, so it must work.

And while we're on the topic of medical care, you guys will like this: Shane has some weird little rash on one of hands, in between his fingers. It looks like eczema, maybe, or a mild infection. It looks better now, but we have been debating over what it might be with the able assistance of Dr. Google. Lloyd said, 'You know, they say people that live in a too-clean environment get sicker because their immune systems just aren't used to germs.' While I know this is true, I am pretty sure we are not in this category of antiseptic people, and I told him so. Then he said, 'I know! See, it's working!' Then he slapped on some honey and a cotton ball and covered the whole mess with duct tape, and now it's almost as good as new. I used to squirt breast milk at their cuts, too. I know it sounds a little weird, but it really works. You can read about it here. Plus you don't even have to get up to get the honey and cotton balls, so it's super convenient for the motivationally challenged among us. Unfortunately, Shane gave up his nursies earlier this year after trading them for a Nerf gun, so I've been deprived of that tool in my do-it-yourself medical kit. But we have plenty of honey, apple cider vinegar, and garlic, which are the basis of almost every slightly crunchy remedy, so that should keep us plenty healthy. And smelling good!

Have a good weekend, wherever you are! We're having beautiful, crisp and clear fall weather and are going to carve pumpkins with the cousins and then have some friends over. I'm hoping for an injury free weekend, but Lloyd just made Shane a slingshot and gave him some rocks. I better get my breast pump out.