School Time Yet?

I'm ready to kill some of these kids. Mind you, there's only two, but at times they seem as loud and as messy as 1000 kids. My friend, Mary, had a counter for when school was out of session (she's a teacher). I'm fixing to get one so I know how much longer I have them home. Either that, or I'm getting some duct tape.

I am hip-deep in lawn care articles and fixing to move on to belly dancing soon (writing about, not doing, as we don't need an 8.0 earthquake here on the east coast). The naughty story is on hold, though Pigtails is begging me to work on it. She's just jealous because I can write bad words, and she can't. :::grin:::

I'm also yearning to knit again after reading Julie's blog (scroll down to see the lacy goodness) about her scarves that she's making for Christmas presents :::sigh:::. I do miss knitting. I don't get to do it much because it annoys the tendons.

Other than that, things are quiet. I've suspended building the ark as the sun has been out for two days straight. I'll let you know if I take that project up again :::wink:::.

The Great Visit

The Great Athena has descended, visited and departed, :::sniff:::, though you have to enjoy what you can get. The family arrived yesterday (in the rain that wasn't supposed to happen--can you hear the hammering on the ark?) and stayed through this afternoon. They were all good guests and we only had one mishap--Little One decided to jump rope in sandals. The rope caught her sandal and she fell on her knee. No bandaid required. Athena's brood is older than mine, so it was interesting having teenaged boys around, let me tell you. I think I'm quite happy in this younger age bracket for now .

In other news, I have to research belly dancing and lawn care. No, it's not a book about a gardening belly dancer (though it could be interesting...) I used to work at a garden center, so that's at least familiar. Belly dancing...Well, I have a belly (ample belly). Does that count? An interesting fact: Buffalo grass is the only native grass to America and it's not suitable for lawns. NO, Kentucky Bluegrass isn't native.

That's about it for today. Not exciting, I know. Tomorrow I'll have something interesting to say.

Go, K-man!

K-man got second place in his regional race yesterday. I didn't go--Little One and I stayed home and vegged because it was looking like rain there. However, it didn't and he raced like a little demon.

In other news, I'm working on building an ark this week, seeing we've had NOTHING BUT RAIN for eons, and we have nothing but rain scheduled from Wednesday on through God knows when. Of course, the skies will clear Monday and Tuesday to honor Athena's visit. Then it's back to rain.

burning question of the day: If you had to build an ark, what 2 animals would you leave behind?

I'd leave behind the squirrels and the mosquitoes. I hate squirrels--we call them tree rats in this house. They destroy my garbage bags (they rip open holes in the bags) and they get into my birdfood and they do nothing nice for me. Mosquitoes need no explanation. They're vile, and Little One gets so itchy from their bites...

I Want To Become...

A nudist. Yes, you heard me right. After scaling Mt. Laundry down in the laundry area and trying to figure out how to get ahead, I decided it would just be easier to move to a nudist colony somewhere and go without clothing for awhile.

Then I got to thinking...What do nudists do when it's 'that time of the month'? They'd have to wear something or it's get pretty nasty in nudist land. Then that led to the thought of me getting into a disagreement with some redneck, loudmouth man nudist about something, and he'd look at me and say, "So what's your problem? Oh wait...It's obvious." Meaning, PMS. Then I'd have to kill him for his rudeness, (and from suffering from raging PMS) and I would end up in jail wearing an orange jumpsuit or white with horizontal black stripes. Both are mega unflattering. I think we have orange jumpsuits up here. :::shudder::: I'd also probably end up working in the laundry room, washing nasty inmate orange jumpsuits, All. Day. Long.

So I don't want to be a nudist anymore. I'll go do my laundry because there's no email in jail, dude. We couldn't have that, now could we?

PAH!

The laptop is reading the CD as blank, which either means 1) it's blank, or 2) the laptop is stupid and I'll have to send it to work with DH for him to open it on a potentially smarter computer.

I now know how a groom feels when he can't perform on his wedding night. All that anxiety and excitement for nothing .

For Leslie...

My PUBLISHED friend Leslie Dicken is convinced I am crazy, so I decided to take this blogthings test to prove to her once and for all that my medication is working and I AM NOT NUTS.

And NO, I have not looked at the CD. It is staring at me now, resembling the senile dog when he begs.

I shall return with the CD results. Later. Maybe.

You Are 65% Normal (Really Normal)

Otherwise known as the normal amount of normal You're like most people most of the time But you've got those quirks that make you endearing You're unique, yes... but not frighteningly so!

How Normal Are You?

Blast From The Past

I'm afraid. Really, really afraid.

I have this CD that a friend burned--it contains recovered stuff from our old computer that got zapped by lightning (the one day I forgot to unplug it :::grumble grumble:::). You're probably wondering why I'm afraid. I mean, it's just a herd of files, waiting for me to open them, right?

The scary thing is that I have 3 books I haven't seen in over a year on that CD. I'm afraid to open it, because:

1) What if the books all suck?

2) What if I see something redeeming in one book? That doesn't sound scary, but you have to realize, I'll have to admit that Pigtails is right, and that will cause a whole bunch of grief on my part. She LOVES being right like a mosquito loves blood. Having a redeeming book will also cause work, because then I'd actually have to WRITE something. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the most motivated of writers. Unless there's a person with a check book and a primed pen waiting to pay me, I'm lazy. Pure and simple.

3) What if my stuff sucks? I know, back to the original thought...But the whole though of being a horrid writer is very scary for an author. Really. It doesn't matter that two of these books are contest finalists...They could still suck, very easily. If they suck, Pigtails would be wrong (because she LOVES one of the books), but I'd have to deal with having the ego that has written the sucky books rather than the ego that had to deal with her friend being right (which it hates). I know, that was as clear as mud.

Okay. So I'll make you a promise...Tomorrow I will open the CD, read the books and see if they have any merit. I'll let you know what I think. Maybe I'll post a few paragraphs and you can all vote on the level of suckiness.

Maybe.

Happy Monday!

I SURVIVED! Go ME!

The procedure went fine, thanks to the lovely ladies that cared for me (and the Dr too, he did a good job). I was most upset about the IV, but it went in without a hitch. DH even took pity on me and escorted me into the Dunkin Donuts after (had an onion bagel, which I did not enjoy, had to call Pigtails to complain).

K-man's last day of school was today--he brought home a picture of his class at the old school house. It's in black and white, with everyone looking grumpy. So that was sweet!

Other than that, not much craziness. Well, we're doing hay today, the freaking hottest day so far, with thunderstorms on the horizon. We always hay this field in pouring rain for some reason. I always get poison ivy from it, and if I drive the truck I end up dropping my BIL on his head because the field is on the side of a hill. They blame my driving, but it's the DAMN HILL, and the woodchuck holes. But this year I get to sit home and sip soda because I am too loopy to be driving anything still.

My Friend Athena will be visiting next Monday...I have to MUCK THE STY for her arrival. Goddesses deserve better.

I'll check in later with something a heck of a lot more amusing to say. I promise.

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to all the dads, to those that have a dad, wish they had a dad, are dating or married to a dad, and everyone in between.

DH took his lovely children to see CARS at the theater. He said it was hilarious, even for him (and he hates everything). Little One found it just as enjoyable, though she was mad that McDonald's didn't have CARS toys in the happy meals (damned McDonald's).

Other than that...Not much going on. The solution to drink for tomorrow is NASTY in texture. It's like watery jello and glue mixed together. It's even WORSE cold, because it's even more thick and slippery and nasty. I've had my fill of broth, and I was dreaming about devilled eggs earlier (I haven't eaten since breakfast). I HATE DEVILLED EGGS, so I know I'm hungry if I'm dreaming about them.

DH doesn't know this yet, but after the procedure, he's dragging my hungry self to Dunkin Donuts for a bagel and coffee. Don't tell, or he'll drag his feet. I'm better to say, "Ooh! Ooh! Turn here!" Then jump out fast. Don't fear for my life, I'm used to doing this .

I'll be back tomorrow to update you on the procedure.

ICKY

I am busy shuddering in fear...I have to have a colonoscopy and endoscopy on Monday. Now, before you think, 'that poor old Dude...' I AM NOT OLD. I'm 37. Okay, that may be old to some, like the senile dog, who's pushing 12 and feeling every year of it.

So why do I have to suffer at the hands of doctors? I'm anemic, and they're not sure why, (it's probably caused by the 5 different drugs I take for lupus, so they're not really worried) so they decided to check the inner plumbing to see what's what. The only intriguing part of all of this is that if they don't see anything, I'll get to swallow a pill with a CAMERA in it! Which is way cool, in my book.

I also have to get tested because my sweetest Mummie had colorectal cancer before the age of 60 (and is doing mighty well, too), which is another reason to go and get checked. So tomorrow I will NOT be posting, as I'll be busy on my throne, studying for my exam :::smile:::.

I am honestly more upset about the IV than the test, because I tend to blow out my IV's. My doctorish friend (I'm not sure what she is, but she is right up there and can give medicine and do rectal exams) told me to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate...So I will.

So let's have a little colorectal cancer fact list so you can see why having a colonoscopy is important to do:

1) Polyps (mushroom like growths) are slow growing and can become cancerous, but it takes many, many years. Discovering them early and getting them snipped will take care of them and keep your chances of developing this kind cancer kept to a minimum.

2) Most of the time, there are no symptoms of colo-rectal cancer until it's a late staging. Screening is very important to detect this cancer early.

3) If found early, colo-rectal cancer is treatable and manageable.

So if you're not an old dude, but know old dudes (like your parents) encourage them to be screened. You'll be mighty happy you did.

I am hopping off the soapbox now. Run, don't walk, and get a colonoscopy (because misery loves company).

In other news (if you made it this far):
Only one more day of school for K-man! He's thrilled with his teacher assignment for next year. He gets his kindergarten teacher again (NO, he wasn't demoted, she moved up) for third grade. PLUS, he has a lot of good friends in his class. He's very excited.

No news yet on who will have to suffer...er...be graced with Little One's presence in Kindergarten. All I can say is God help her teacher. I spent Thursday night defending her from the bugs in her room. I ended up closing her window because she was afraid the crickets would come in and get her. I did try to explain that crickets were only trying to find a girlfriend, and they good luck in some countries (and I cringed, because I'd have a cricket farm next to the catepillar farm and worm farm she has established on my front porch). She wasn't buying that, not after the poor moth attacked her (it sat on her shoulder or something). She wasn't buying that it was a butterfly cousin. I rescued the thing from the screeching and put him outside--I think he was very happy to leave, indeed.

Oh, and HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to the dads out there! I'm sending my DH out with money and his children so he can buy them food and have them watch a movie with him (CARS, I believe, since they're a racing bunch). I have to eat jello and broth all day, I'll be damned if I'm cooking for the man, special holiday or NOT.

I'll let you know how the testing goes...

Ever had...

A week with absolutely NOTHING INTERESTING going on? That's what's going on here, folks. It's the last week of school for the brats, and I've been shopping, and planting plants, and playing 'round on the internet (the sink is groaning with dishes, SHHH, don't tell). So I'm trying to think of anything odd or unusual... Here's what I came up with.

1) An old man flirted with me at the grocery store. He was buying a bag of carrots and parsley, I had a whole whopping food order. I guess his wife left him to make soup then took off to the casino to gamble. Which I found mildly amusing.

2) The senile dog was attacked by the Sit and Spin today. Really. He backed up (he can't turn around between the couch and the coffee table) and ended up on the sit and spin. The look on his face was priceless, "Holy CRAP, what's going ON?" He didn't spin around, mores the pity (yes, I'm a cruel woman). It made me think of when he was a puppy and I'd make him sit on the sled with me while I went sledding. He hated that. I liked it. Ah, those were the days...

3) We took the go kart into school for show and tell in K-man's class. It was pretty funny, because the janitors were taking their break and wanted to drive it around the baseball field (which would have been amusing). The kids actually asked good questions, and the highlight of the event was watching K-man's teacher squeeze her body into the kart, then proceed to get strapped in. You have to keep in mind, K-man is 8 and skinny (I keep feeding him, really). The teacher is tiny, and she actually got in there. I have a better chance of fitting in a size 2 dress than I do of getting into his kart.

That's about it. Today I have my tasks: K-man wants me to rip and load Wallflowers songs into his MP3 player (that he earned himself, the good child). I have lots of painting to get done (I do decorative painting, I'll take some pics and learn to load them for you to view). OOH, I have to teach today! MUST NOT FORGET to go...

That's my Wednesday. Pretty boring for Crazyland.

Good Things Come...

To those who whine a lot. Really.

I was whining to Julie the Samurai Knitter about not having a bag to carry my stuff to dr's appointments or anywhere else that requires a wait. So I toddle out to the mailbox and there's this tacky green envelope wedged in like a herd of clowns in a clown car. Inside is the most GORGEOUS hand-knit and felted bag. Picture and Pattern of bag here I am truly blessed to have such a gifted and generous friend. THANK YOU, JULIE!!!!!

In other news...My mother-in-law can walk on stilts. Yes, really. The things we learn in the course of a day. K-man got to attend school in the one-roomed school house in town. Of course, there was much whining when I produced the basket for his lunch ("I'm NOT taking my lunch in a BASKET! What will the kids on the bus say?") We were allowed to use paper products, though, so I used a bag and away he went.

We were invited to have lunch with the kids, and during recess they were playing with old-fashioned toys, like the hoop and stick, and stilts. I look and my MIL is hobbling across the lawn on them. She did it several times after that--I think she had fun. She and I could open circus side-show acts. I'll juggle, she can walk on stilts. We'll make a mint.

The Adventures of Sticky

First, I HAVE tried to update the blog, but the powers that be have stood in my path. So sorry, dudes. I also have been fighting an ear infection and fever, so I'm not really a fun person to have around. But I'm back, feeling 80% good, and ready to tell you the adventures of Sticky.

What is Sticky? Sticky is...well...a stick. I went to work this a.m., parked under a tree during the blowing monsoon and came back to a stick stuck in my window wiper blade. It was a nice stick, about 8 inches long. I went home (2 miles), the stick stayed put, enjoying the breeze and the sunshine after the monsoon left. The brats and I then drove to Friendly's for a dinner, and Sticky went along too. We then ran an errand in another town, traveling the highway, fighting city traffic--all with Sticky in tow.

On the way home, Little One says, "Mom, there's a stick on the windshield."
Me: "Why yes, it came from work."
LO: "You mean it's been there the whole time? Let's name it."
K-man pipes up: "We'll name it Stick."
LO: "Sticky! When we get home, he can come in the house and live with us."
Me: "Well, let's keep in mind it might fall off."
LO (in tears): "Mom! Stop and get Sticky. He can't fall off."
K-man: "Yeah, or drive slower. I think you're going too fast."
Me: "I'm NOT getting the stick. Maybe he will decide he likes living here better, and jump off and make a new home." That sounded good to me, but the kids weren't impressed.

So we drive. The children are in the back, intently staring at the darned stick on the windshield.

LO: "Sticky, HANG ON! We're almost home!"
K-man: "Yeah, I still think you need to drive slower, Mom."

By this time, we're about 5 minutes from home. I have now joined the children in watching the stick in the windshield wiper. Sticky is merrily enjoying the wind on his stick parts. We stop for a red-light, and Sticky lays down. LO is sure he's exhausted from hanging on. "Are we home yet? Hang on, Sticky, we're almost there!"

We turn off, the last little road to home (about 1/4 mile, on a backroad). The sun is blazing into the windshield. There's a liberal coating of dirt and rainspots, and I unthinkingly squirt the fluid and turn on the wipers. Sticky goes sailing into the breeze, after a 30 mile journey on my wiperblade.

ME: "OMG, I killed Sticky!"
LO wails. Even K-man is upset. "How could you kill Sticky! Mom, go get him!"

So I pull over into the cemetery and get out, soothing the children. I lock the car, and run down the road looking for Sticky. Until it dawned on me--what in HELL was I doing? Where the HELL was the crazy dudes to haul me off to basket class? I searched quickly, picked up a stick (too long) picked up another and brought it back to the car triumphantly. "Here's Sticky!"
LO: "That's NOT Sticky, he had a curve in him."
K-man comes to his senses. "I can't believe you went looking for a stick." (Neither can I).
Me:"Well, Sticky must have wanted to live here, so he's not around."
K-man: "Well, you launched him into the bushes, Mom. Why did you turn on your washers anyway?" (Sure, make me look like the bad guy.)
Me: "Because it's important to be able to see? What's more important--the stick, or us surviving the trip home."
The Brats say in unison, "The stick."
I go to throw the wrong stick out. LO wails again. "We can take that one home! Make him our new Sticky!"

So that is how I came to have a stick in my living room. It's with the deer antler the senile dog found me years ago. Let's hope Sticky doesn't have any more adventures--today about wore me out.

Hot Diggity!

I am so THRILLED to learn the least stolen vehicle out there is the Ford Taurus Station wagon! WHOO HOOO! It was even voted the #1 car that AOLers don't want to drive! Hot damn, I never have to lock the car again, because NO ONE is going to take it. Heck, if I park it next to an Escalade (the #1 stolen car) I could probably leave it unlocked, doors open, hood open with the keys in it and the car running.

Though the world isn't partial to the Taurus wagon, I am partial to my Mom-mobile. It can hold 2 beastly kids, one friend, the 100 lb senile dog and a few bikes. Of course, the dog isn't partial to being squished in the back with the bikes, so sometimes he gets sits up front, which is better than Christmas in his little dog world (shhhh, don't tell DH).

It has proven to be a low maintains car. It likes gas, and oil, and that's about it. Which is good, because as a mechanic's wife, the old saying, 'the shoemaker's children go barefoot' is very much in action here. I think I even still have snow tires on my Mom-mobile. Which is okay, since you just NEVER KNOW. There might be a blizzard in June...

Other good things? It has CUP HOLDERS. Need I say more?

So yep, go drive your Escalades, your Seabrings, your other fancy cars. I'll stick to my Mom-mobile.

Go Dudes!

OMG, I got a hit on the dude counter from South Africa! I have officially beat my friend Julie, the Samurai Knitter (in my DUDE list!), at getting a hit from every continent but Antarctica. We've had a little race going, and I was busy whining that she'd probably win when her Knitty article came out www.knitty.com in July. If you knit, go visit Julie. She writes amusing but interesting articles. But we WON! GO DUDES! :::fist pumping galore:::

In other news, I'm working hard at writing my romantica...not. Well, I brainstormed it (we all know how I feel about brainstorming--I'd rather have hot pokers stuck in my eyes) and I have a plan. I just have to get my weekly writing goal of 5,000 words written. EEEEK.

The main problem I'm having lately is brainstorming the story--and not because I'm plot-challenged, as usual. See, I have no problem WRITING the naughty words, but God help me if I actually have to say one to someone. You have to understand, I teach little kids how to ride horses and I have the queen of language (a.k.a. Little One) residing in my home. All I need is for her to pick up some naughty word and to scream it at the top of her lungs. It's bad enough that she hollered once, "GOD DAMMIT!" at the post office when K-man dumped over a display of boxes. Mind you, she was under two, but the embarrassment has lasted me a lifetime, thank-you-very-much.

Now, Pigtails has the opposite problem. She calls me and spews out random naughty words to boost her confidence so she can write them. For some reason, her naughty words are stuck in her mouth--mine in my fingers. In fact, we were discussing one thing, and I used every euphemism in the world to describe the female naughty bits...Meanwhile she's screaming at me, "Just say it, dammit! SAY IT!" And then a stream of naughty bit words came flying from her mouth like melted butter on a lobster. I tell yah, if she weren't my buddy I'd drop cow manure bombs on her house. I'm that jealous.

Wheee!!!

Race Update: SECOND PLACE!!! My boy raced like a mad-man. If he'd had just a few more laps, he might have won, but we're happy with second. Unfortunately, in the first heat race on of the girls hit the wall and fractured her wrist--so hugs go out to Bri. Thankfully, accidents like that are pretty rare despite the danger factor involved in racing.

So back to my K-man...He finishes the race, goes to tech (top three Karts have to pass inspection). He gets out of the kart and says, "The Magic 8 Ball lied. It said I'd come in third place!" Yeah, well, get used to it, kid. Magic 8 lies about a lot of stuff, especially about my writing and when I'll sell something, and all that. But the kids enjoy asking it stuff, and now that K-man can read the answers and ask it normal questions, it's fun for them. When he was little he used to ask it silly stuff (I forget what, now, but it wasn't yes or no questions) and the 8 Ball would flip the little cube on its corner so it didn't have an answer.

Little One usually asks Magic 8 if Santa will come back next year, and it happily says, "I predict it is so." It didn't predict how she'd finish today, which was dead last, meaning she was so far behind she thought she was first. However, she was very happy and eager to race, so that's good. I told her she could earn Laffy Taffies for passing people. She passed one person because they'd spun and weren't moving, and was very proud.

So that was my day so far. Everyone is still at the track. I came home to get myself some exedrin and cheer for my boy. YAY, K-man on your great finish!! WTG!

:::sniff:::

My little one graduated from pre-school yesterday. I'm feeling just a tad old, and definitely nostalgic. Oh, and a little relieved because she didn't melt in the middle of the ceremony.

It's fairly sad to have to brace myself at every public event because we just never know how the drama queen is going to react. This is the child that decided, at the tender age of three, that she wasn't going to do the chicken dance because "chickens don't clap." I tried to convince her somewhere there was a happy group of chickens clapping their little hearts out, but she wasn't buying it. I got the eye roll, a big sigh and, "chicken don't clap, Mom."

But yesterday she sang, and participated, and had a huge piece of cake with her face on it (they took the class picture and had it made into the cake icing. She got her face!)

In other news, I've been writing up a storm this week, working on actual fiction. Pigtails has decided to drag me into her latest adventure in genre discovery (no, we're not cross dressing. We're writing something NEW and DIFFERENT, you pervs).

Today is hair cut day for the very shaggy K-man. I also have to visit the bank (and Dunkin Donuts!) Then off to write some naughty words. I'm not ready to come out of the closet and proclaim I write romantica yet (oops, I think I just did...). Romantica is romance with an erotic twist. My thinking is: I can write about poodles, I can write about import car-tuning and make money doing it...Why not erotic romance stories for a profit? Hell, I've had sex at least twice (SHHHH....don't tell my mom). I at least KNOW a little about it. Very little research involved. Maybe. Sorta. Okay, maybe if DH is willing...

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Catch you tomorrow when we find out how K-man does at his race! Oh, and Little One has demanded her training wheels be removed from her bike, and has been racing up a storm in the practice go-kart. She may become the queen of aggressive-land out on the track...But maybe not. We'll see tomorrow...