July Wrap-Up

I had the urge to write something this morning. I feel a little guilty because I made some hoopla about being back on here regularly and promptly disappeared.

It's been pretty busy around here, in a very frustrating way. It's summer vacation and the kids are around in full force. It's hard because I have found that in order to fill my "bucket" so to speak, I need unreasonable amounts of alone time on a day to day basis. Unreasonable when you have 3 children and a husband..and a father, all packed into a small house and it is summer vacation. Not so unreasonable during the school year.

I am just putting my head down and getting through the next 29 days until the first day of school.

But really, it hasn't been all THAT bad. I'm just whiney.

Here are some things that I have been up to:

G has been doing a bit of beekeeping with me. She loves it.



Here's a few of the bees:



Uncapped honey!



They are doing pretty well. I had to treat them for varroa mites this past week. I'm going into the hive at the end of this week so I can see how everything went. Then I have to consider my honey harvesting options. It's looking like I may actually get a little this year. It's about time those bitches started earning their keep.

Kidding..I actually like my bees better than my dog.



Dumbass dog..


I also have been doing battle with a family of groundhogs at my community garden. Here is what my greens bed usually looks like in July:



Kale in the middle looks nice, huh?

Here's what it looked like this July:



The Devil's Marmot and it's son the Antichrist, is what I dubbed them.

I put out at least 2 pounds of Cayenne pepper to repel them, which works until it rains. Then it all depends on who gets to the garden first. The Hogs live on the property so I usually lost that relay.

The Devil's Marmot would crap in one of the beds:



I told the kids, when we found this, that it looks like Mr Hanky, The Christmas Poo. I offered to bring it home in a box, where we could put googly eyes and a hat on it. The kids were disgusted at me for the suggestion, but still went home to watch that episode of South Park, just because. (DO NOT, I say, DO NOT mention to my husband that I let my kids watch that 1, and only 1, episode of South Park. I will get in trouble. And then I will find you, you big tattle-tale. Then I will open that can of whoop-ass)

I told my husband about the Mr Hanky poo. He also got disgusted and said in his snotty "Cindy is acting infantile" voice, "I don't know what that means." and walked away with me yelling, "Fine! Next time I'll just go and get myself a husband who appreciates my poop humor!"

B hates my poop humor. I have this wonderful magnet, given to me by a dear, (and appreciative) friend that says "Ask me about my explosive diarrhea" I put it in my car window, but B keeps taking it down. The kids warned me that he threatened to throw it out, so I have to be very careful and remember to take it down before he uses the car.

So moving on..The Groundhogs.

I bought a Havahart trap. It was time. Especially after the little fuckers started to pull out the fencing to break into the gardens. It had just gone too far. I got the trap. Then I picked up G from Vacation Bible School (don't get me started on that..)and told her that it was a birthday present. I was hoping to capture a look of disappointment on her face:



The evident delight on her face just proves that she is indeed, my daughter. She got mad at me when I told her that it actually wasn't for her. She punched me and I had to placate her with an early birthday present.

So within 2 days we caught 2 young Hogs. Here is one of them:



Little scourge has no business looking so damn cute. I released him somewhere perfectly..legal.

The next day we caught the other one. We released that one too. I didn't get pictures, nor any of the mother possum and babies that we caught the next night. Did I mention the baby raccoon a friend and I had to haul out of the dumpster the week before? It's in the middle of the city, but it's like friggin Wild Kingdom over there.

So we had a quiet week and a half. Then the mother of them all, the Devil's Marmot herself, made an appearance yesterday. So I am hog hunting yet again.

My garden is bouncing back nicely though. I am happy and grateful for that.

This is getting very long winded. I'm going to leave with just one last little snippet and then try really hard to come back on later this week. No promises. I'm starting Camp NanoWriMo for the August session tomorrow and will really try to put down 50,000 words. It's more practical in August as happily, the kids will be in camp a lot more this month. Thank God..

So Horst went on holiday. All by himself. He took a plane to Chicago to visit my brother and his family. We considered hiring an escort to help him, but then decided to go with the sink, swim or -get strip searched by Homeland Security because you did something or said something silly to make people think you are a terrorist- approach.

Happily, he made it there and back. My brother, M didn't kill him. Usually, B or I are there as buffers for my brother. We try to lead the conversation so that Horst doesn't say or do anything to embarrass everyone. M, living in Chicago, doesn't get as much practice as we do. Here are the texts that my brother sent to me during my Dad's visit.

##Awkward conversation 1-Dad's battle with Columbia DVD Club

## At K's parent's house for dinner-God help me.

## I'm hoping that H (M's 2 year old son)will dominate the conversation

## I'm already sweating and nothing has happened yet

## Discussion about Munich-painful (Both Horst and K's Dad, my brother's wife, are from Germany)

## Discussion about Geese at Raytheon-god help me

## Work story about a bad breakfast-help

## Dad talking about food shows

## He is killing me

## Nana ordering everything on a pizza?! What the f is he talking about?

## I feel like I am in a time warp-every minute feels like and hour

## Talking about the job-more pain

I texted to ask if they left dinner a little later on he replied

## Yes-amen

The next day he texted to tell me

## Dad-is now caught up in H's favorite show-Mickey Mouse clubhouse

I texted to ask if Dad was talking to the TV, to which he responded:

## Yup

Frozen Peas and Funny Books

I worked 16 hours yesterday. Two things happened frequently during those 16 hours. First, I got a lot of work calls. Second, I ran from heat to air conditioning over and over while running errands for work. The results of my running about with a cell phone tucked between my shoulder and cheek, in the heat and cold, was pain and nausea.

The last several hours of my shift I was pretty useless, which is semi-Ok because everyone at the house I was working at was sleeping, so I could sit there, with a bag of frozen vegetables draped over me to ease my neck pain and cool me down. I was reminded that men stick bags of frozen peas on their crotch after having a vasectomy, but that's irrelevant, except for the fact that I probably looked and felt as hang dog as a guy who just had a vasectomy. I should also add, that I didn't have peas, but a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and that worked just as well.




I am reading this excellent, funny book called, "Lets Pretend This Never Happens" by Jenny Lawton. I read about 200 pages in a very short time and laughed so hard at points that I began to sob uncontrollably. It didn't help my neck or my nausea.

I knew it was going to be good as soon I read the part about the argument between Jenny and her husband on vomiting in a bowl vs.a trash can. I plan on adding it to my small arsenal of really funny books that I use in place of anti-depressants.

You should pick it up if you need a laugh. It's totally worth the 20 bucks. You should also consider using frozen peas instead of an ice pack. Works SO much better.

She's Growing Up

Here is a photo of G from this past spring. That's my friend Kevin's cat. We were at his house taking care of Jinx while he was away. G also dropped off some Girl Scout cookies with a friendly note reminding him to make sure he gets his payment in:



G is a funny kid and has the best sense of humor. I also will add that she has excellent, distinctive taste and can accessorize like....someone who can accessorize really well. I'm not quite comfortable saying my daughter can do anything like a motherfucker.

I was looking at some really cool Barbie dolls that my friend made into Tegan and Sarah dolls for her daughter's birthday and thought of the last time that G had asked me for a doll. She was never into Barbies she is more of a stuffed animal type of gal, but she threw me off completely.

This is because my daughter's childhood experiences and my own are very opposite. Not completely polar opposite. She is not the millionaire child of the king of the world and I didn't grow up the child of a homeless crack whore, but there are some things about me that were very, very different from her at the age of 9.

About 6 months ago, G came to me and asked me for some money from her First Communion that I had put in the bank for her several months before. She said that she wanted an "American Girl" doll. I was shocked. I thumbed through the file in my brain that consisted of my childhood experiences and said, "Aren't you a little old for dolls?" in a puzzled manner. I thought to myself that seeing that she was 8, she would want to be smoking cigarettes soon and would be asking for a lighter or a cheap cigarette trip to New Hampshire. I was 9 when I started.

Needless to say she got the doll. I'm happy that she is growing up much MUCH slower than I am, as are her siblings. It is crazy though, when I look at my children and think of who I was and what I was doing at their age. It makes me happy that they don't have to deal with a lot of the shit, and it makes me a little sad too, because looking back, my childhood wasn't too bad, but there were still things in it that I would never wish to be in my children's lives (or any other kid's for that matter) and that makes me a bit sad.

Sorry for that last downer. It is a very cloudy morning. Off to a 16 hour shift. I hope it's not a shift from Hell.

A Mess, Dogs and Deliverance

I'm a bit of a mess today. I woke up this way(I could totally make up a poem starting with these lines). I think that it's because I got 8 hours of sleep last night. It's way too much and I always seem to function best with around 6 1/2.

I am up to my ears in summer vacation madness. A nasty groundhog is leveling parts of my garden. I have to get into my hive early next week to check on my supers and a myriad of other bee things. I may have some honey to extract. This may necessitate my having to speak to people I do not know. This is probably 99% of the reason why I am a mess today. I either have selective social anxiety or a fear or speaking to other beekeepers I guess.

Brian and I were talking about dogs the other evening. I've already written about my feelings for my dog, Gus(asshole). We were talking about people who take their dogs everywhere with them. I used to do that before I had children, with my wonderful legendary dog Shaz. She died about 5 years ago. Shaz was a once in a lifetime sort of dog. A framed photo of Shaz is in my living room and her collar hangs from the rearview mirror of my car. I jingle the tags from time to time. I took Shaz everywhere because she was well behaved. She would stay out from underfoot and didn't bite or shit everywhere. I also was very mindful of others when I took her places.

The other day I went to the Farmer's Market with one of my clients and managed to trip over 3 dogs, who were sitting right in the middle of where me and probably 10 others at the time needed to be. I had an immediate urge to kick the dogs, but the urge quickly shifted to wanting to kick their owners for putting the silly dog in the way. After all, it's just a dog, who has no concept of the flow of pedestrian traffic. I have a hard time at crowded Farmer's Markets and the dogs (and people) who linger and loiter stress me out. (I realize that that is probably the point, slow food and all, but it still makes me nuts)

Back to that conversation.
Brian told me his boss was taking her dog camping in Maine. He stated that he would never want to take a dog camping. Then he stopped and said that yes, he would want to take a dog, even Gus camping, to protect him from Deliverance-like hillbillies who would like his pretty mouth. (note-Brian NEVER goes camping-he leaves me to do that with the kids-I don't bring the dog, but a basket full of weapons) I reminded Brian that although Gus would protect him from the guys, he would be as helpless as a newborn kitten if the assailants were hillbilly women coming to rape him with dildos or sticks or something. Gus would let the ladies have their way as long as he could stick his nose in their cleavage.
Brian nodded sadly, looking over at Gus who cocked his head stupidly, "I'm afraid you're probably right."

Big Bird

I woke up this morning with a stabbing pain in my side.

I've been up for a little while and it's not as bad. So it's not appendicitis, nor a loop of intestine spontaneously falling into my pelvis. Nor a sideways prolapsed uterus. Just a little gas, perhaps a muscle strain? It's fine now-I can run up and down the stairs standing up straight now, not hunched over like Igor.

My mind is reeling with the amount of things that need to get done today. Most of it involves driving all over the place and picking shit up (and my oldest daughter,from her Dad's house, not wanting to stick her in the same category as shit) But I won't bore you any more.

We went to the Bronx Zoo, on our way to the Jersey Shore on Friday. Brian in a not unkind manner pointed out to me that somehow, I plan all of our family zoo trips on the hottest day of the year. It was 94 degrees. It was probably 100 degrees the time I dragged him to the Memphis Zoo. Actually, now that I think of it, it was probably close to 90 the last time that I was at the Bronx Zoo. A unanimous vote was passed to restrict all zoo trips to Autumn. It was really fucking hot. Happily, we did not collapse nor lose our tempers. The zoo was Ok as far as it is a zoo, and it involves animals in cages, which is pretty sad. Here is a picture of a lovely vulture:



September 2nd is International Vulture Awareness Day, in case you didn't know.

Right next to this very lovely vulture was an Andean Condor. I wish I got a picture. I passed by it, then did a double take. The bird was a really big fucking bird. It's the only way to describe it. Brian and I rechristened it the Holy Shit Bird after watching another group of people walk by, do a double take and I wouldn't be surprised if they too said, "Holy shit! Look at that big fucking bird!" The poor condor, facing away from us, in the coolest shade of his cage, probably rolled his eyes and shook his head. He probably gets that all the time.

Like I said, it's a REALLY big bird. It could probably carry off a grown man.
If you go to the Bronx Zoo, check it out in the Birds of Prey section. Then we can talk about how we both saw the really big fucking bird. Yeah.. Ok.

Back for 2 Seconds Because I'm Being Watched

Shout Hooray! It's July and I came back!

I'm only doing the tiniest of blurbs here today. Just as I decided to start writing, V decided to wake up and watch me. To prevent any blow-ups on my part, I'm going to hand over the computer to this little imp from Hell. I can't do many things while being watched. Of course that threw any hopes of an acting career out the window...I'll be back here tomorrow. Much earlier in the morning and BY MYSELF. (pointed look at V here) So stop by. I'll tell you all about the beginning of my summer vacation, my battle with the blank page, sacrilegious thoughts in church, my newly discovered hatred for dog owners and a really big ass bird.
Until then.

I know I'm supposed to be on blog vacation, but this one was too good to pass up. I should be asleep right now. It's 6:28 AM. I went to bed at 12:45 after a 16 hour shift. I told Horst that I would wake up at 5:50 to bring him to the bus for 6:20. I am up at 5:55. I grab my coat, my coffee and go downstairs to his apartment to find that he already fucking left. His cellphone is not receiving phone calls. I am now sitting on my couch. Awake for the day as I am the type of person who can't go back to bed once they are up. I am seething in anger. I don't understand. I told him I'd do it. I even told him that I would leave the phone by my bed so that if he felt I was running late he would call. I did that. Even if I got up and we left at 6:10AM-we'd still have time to make the bus-it's an easy 4 minute drive to the bus station at this time of the morning ON A SUNDAY.

For the record, there is no way in hell that I am going to get in my car and try to pick him up as he walks down to the bus. Once he leaves the block and I can't see him to call him back, the fucker's on his own. I know what happened too. He waited until 5:45, and then decided I wasn't coming down and took off. It'd be easier to just call me AS PLANNED right? He is most likely not going to make his bus if he waited until 5:45 to start walking. that means he will wait at the bus station for the 7:20 bus.

Good riddance is what I say. I hope a crazy bum decides to befriend him and talk his ear off for the entire wait.

Is this some kind of Father's day retribution? Is he giggling to himself as he walks to the bus station? "Got that bitch this time for all the time she put me through hell." I bet he knows that I'll never go back to bed and am now facing a day of exhaustion.

But if I mention this to him, he will claim to be completely ignorant of the fact that this is kind of a dick thing to do. Then he will bring it up at least several times a day for the next week. Each mention of it will cost me another 2 minutes of my life.

Happy Father's Day. I have always loved this one

Holiday

I'm not going fishing, although that is something I'd like to do sometime.

I'm actually going to take a bit of a blog/Facebook break for the rest of this month. I need to focus my attention on writing that story and getting through the last leg of the June children's events. Then I have to put together a summer routine for myself and my minions that will keep us all from destroying each other until blessed September comes and I can ship them off again for 6 hours a day.

I'll be popping in on Facebook once a day because it is one of my main sources of communication with the outside world. I'll still check my emails too.

If I think of anything interesting or funny, I'll be sure to write it down. When July comes, hopefully I will have lots of things to write about.

Until then..

Talent Show Reject

Well, I was not expecting to even get an honorable mention for that writing contest. But the rejection letter still sucked. I'm going to have a very appropriate 5 minutes to sulk, and then I'll go work on my story because that is what I hear people do in these situations.

G is a funny child. For unknown reasons, she walked around all weekend stating that she loves violent movies and assassins. When I jokingly said that we should take the body of the squirrel, that knocked our power out by jumping into the transformer at 6AM, and nail his body to the tree in the yard as a warning to all other neighborhood squirrels, she loudly and enthusiastically supported the idea. Then yesterday she comes home from school with a certificate rewarding her for "random acts of kindness". I said, "You mean random acts of violence G, this can't be right!" She punched me.

In other news, I slept horribly and my neck hurts on one side. It being the day/night of the big talent show, the kids decided to wake up at 4:30 am. I have mentioned at least twice, both here and on Facebook about my difficulty in getting those fuckers out of bed. If anyone tells the two of them to break a leg, I shall have to say, "Don't tempt me."

The Yoghurt Post

Ugh, I had zombie dreams again last night. Of the horrific sort involving my children getting bitten. I woke myself up and lay in bed terrified for a while before I could drift off again.

A few weeks back I mentioned that I made yoghurt again. A few friends asked me to show them how. Here it is.

You need

Milk-I will either use whole milk or 2%-make sure it's not that ultra-pastureized shit. Make sure that if you use whole milk, your yoghurt starter is whole milk too. Likewise with the 2%. Here's what I used yesterday:



Next you will need powdered milk-this is an optional thickener-I like really thick, Greek style yoghurt. Any kind will do.

You will also need a yoghurt starter. New England Cheese Company has some really nice starter powders that you can order. I will be getting around to that soon. In a pinch, use a plain yoghurt that is to your liking. Just like I said, make sure that the fat content matches the milk. I used this:



Ok, rest of the supply list:

2 quart mason jars
a small cooler
liquid and dry measuring cups
2 large pots
A sink full of cold water
Either a kettle or a pan of hot water (if you use the cooler method)

A candy thermometer. You can use any type of cooking thermometer-I use this kind as I am cheap.





As far as the other things, you can use any container to hold the yoghurt, but you also need a way to maintain the temperature to allow the bacteria in the yoghurt to multiply. I use a small cooler full of warm water to do so. Again-New England Cheese Company has some nice gadgets too. In warmer weather you can even just wrap a bowl in a towel.

To start, put 1/3 cup of the yoghurt in a cup or small bowl, mix with some of the milk that you are using to thin it out.

Put 4 cups of the milk in a saucepan. Whisk in 2 or 3 tablespoons of powdered milk, if using. Heat the milk until it is just bubbling in the middle. Do not boil, just a few bubbles in the middle of the pan will do.



Now put the pan in the sink of cold water-adding ice helps too. You want to use your thermometer and cool the milk to 110-115 degrees:



Next-you whisk in the yoghurt/milk mixture. Then add it to your container.
I use the mason jars-I usually boil them to sterilize them, but as long as the containers are REALLY clean, you should be Ok.



Then I add hot water to the cooler, using the hot water from the jar sterilizing and the cold water from the sink to make the water in the cooler about 110-115 degrees-use your thermometer again. Then you add the jars



And put it where it will remain undisturbed for a long time. Some say 3 hours, I usually go 12 hours.

My last step is to line a colander with coffee filters and set it in a large container. I then allow the yoghurt to drain overnight


And here is the finished product:



And I'm done-Have the loveliest of days.

A Catch Up

I was busy yesterday. I am getting a lot of writing done. It's crazy hard, but I am plugging away.

A few things to share:
I have noticed, from watching Game of Thrones and then going online to read about the actors, that most men look better in boiled leather, long hair and a film of grime. Put street clothes on them and their attractiveness score plunges. God forbid something happens to B, I'll have to start picking up guys at a Renaissance fair. I guess I could dress up a as a camp whore.

I have a client that always says to me that he's the bomb. I respond by telling him that my Nana used to call farts bombs. Yesterday, in an attempt to make a down in the dumps G feel better, I told her that I thought she was the bomb and that I didn't mean I thought she was a fart. I don't think it helped.

Plans are underway to get a new Ipod for B as a birthday gift. His old one is kaputt and we have been sharing. I have been finding it increasingly difficult to hide my 80's music addiction.

A varmint ate most of my tomatoes, brussel sprouts and kale. I have fantasies of the suspected groundhog scurrying along, trailing the M80 I had just shoved up his ass. I smile when I imagine the bang.

My friend sent me this site a person put together of all the creative ways they displayed their Elf on the shelf for their kid. Most of you have seen my photo of Steve, our family elf:



When I showed the kids the picture, they yelled at me for not getting video of Steve getting the knife out of the drawer. I was considering putting some pictures of Steve with white powder in his lap and on his nose and doing naughty things to a Ken doll, but that may be going too far.


There is my list for things to do today: Look up coming Renaissance Fairs, purchase a self help book about talking to daughters, a new Ipod for B, a Ken doll and some fireworks.

Dear Old Dad

There's nothing like getting up to a quiet house and then having your peace broken by a loud coffee slurper/gulper. Such is my life and one of the crosses I must bear.
Speaking of crosses to bear, Horst turned 72 on May 30th. We celebrated yesterday because of his work schedule. Every year I make him German style porkchops and macaroni and potato salad. I always wonder how authentically German this food is, but since the Germans in my family refer to it as such, I'll take their word for it. I also made a German chocolate cake from scratch (it came out really good) and bought him a 6 pack of German beer. B and I joke that my Dad would eat a plate of feces as long as it was German. But I shouldn't tease.

In honor of my Dad turning a spry 72. I'd like to put a picture up of his superb housecleaning abilities



You're right-it's an old fucking diaper. Clean of course. My Dad lives in the basement and his bathroom is also the laundry room. As you can imagine, it gets pretty linty from time to time. The top of the trash can can get pretty bad. Horst's answer? Instead of just wiping the top of the can, he puts a goddamn rag on top to prevent it from getting dirty.

Is it me?
It's not me, right?

Ok off to a busy day of laundry, work and 1600 words to write.

Lyd is blasting Elton John top volume on her Ipod-off to intervene
Pray for me

Drowning Kittens

I had a terribly productive day yesterday. I got my car inspected, took several walks, wrote about 1000 words in addition to a blog post, cleaned my bathroom and made granola. I also had a very busy night at work.

Because I dropped the car off early, the kids had to make their way to school on foot. It twas a long treacherous journey of .8 miles. A circuitous route flanked on all sides by the terror of tidy lawns, pretty flowers and an assortment of song birds. The possibility of a small rain shower made the children's journey even more forbidding.

Seriously, based on their reactions when I informed them that we were walking to school, you would have thought that I had just asked them to take a small kitten and drown it in the toilet.

This got me to thinking about being in a position in life of having to tell a lot of people what to do. Between my kids, my dad and work, it's quite often. I have a general rule I always follow. This is, I never ever ask anyone to do anything that I myself haven't done before or would do myself. Usually, if it's a pretty heinous thing that requires doing (my job involves heinous unmentionables at times) I usually end up doing it. I feel it's fair.

There are many times when I will ask someone to do a menial task and their reaction is the same as the kid's reaction yesterday. My new mantra at these moments is to say, "I am asking you to do _______, not beat a bag of puppies to death with a baseball bat. Please do it.
It is astounding how little people are willing to do when asked. It's sad really.

Happily, walking to school was nice. I regret not doing it more this year. I will be taking advantage of these last weeks of school to walk with them. They'll get over it and used to it I'm sure. Perhaps they might even start to enjoy it. Especially if I give them the option-

You're walking or the kitten gets it.

Anyone out there has a kitten they want to lend me until the 14th?

Special Olympics Weekend

It twas Special Olympics weekend here. Lyd competes in it. She stays overnight and I have to go back and forth to the event at least 3 times between going to see her and bringing clients for work. Here are some highlights.


Lyd got a gold medal for the 25 meter walk.

Which leads to a funny story. She wanted to skip swim this week because she had to rest up for Special Olympics. My response was, "Lyd for fuck's sake, you are walking 25 meters one time and tossing a softball three feet. Get your damn suit on." Rest up my foot.




G met Mrs Rhode Island. That woman had poise I tell you! Watching her navigate a dirt road with thousand's of young disabled adults all wanting to hug her, wearing high heels and nary a hair out of place. It was impressive. Her smile never faltered.




And last of all, I present the Mighty V. When the zombies invaded Special Olympics he joined a group of other young children. They stockpiled the best shooting sticks and hijacked a random golf cart. Here you can see Von escaping on the back of the golf cart with the fair maiden he rescued, firing away at the ravenous horde.

It was a fun weekend.

Alarm

It ridiculous really.

I have one of those LL Bean moon beam alarm clocks. To wake you up, it flashes a gentle pulsing light. This works pretty well, except for those days when I am very tired. All that happens is suddenly, I'm completely blinded in my dreams and I stagger around not being able to see shit. It's very bizarre.

If you do not get up and turn the clock off, the gentle pulsing light is then accompanied by an very loud buzzing. That always works for me. My family however, is a whole other matter.

Those losers cannot be awakened by anything except the sound of me screaming in their ear or maybe a car bomb. Actually, Lydia gets up with her alarm because I pay her to. Like I said, ridiculous.

This morning I had to get up early to take my Dad to work and forgot to turn off the alarm. B and V were both sleeping in the bed when the alarm began to go off. Of course, I have to dash up the stairs to switch it off. It's always a somewhat contradictory scene. The chaos of the wildly buzzing and flashing alarm clock compared to the serene faces of my husband and son as they slept on in bliss. Honestly, that alarm is crazy and yet, nothing..You could probably light off a firecracker in there and get no response.

"Bastards." I muttered under my breath as I turned it off

Annoying

Ok, so I'm trying to add this damn link to my blog page and it is not happening. i can't figure it out and it's driving me nuts so here it is.

I will be spending most of my time for the next month trying to write a novel or as I would rather call it, "A Really Long Story" with Nanowrimo summer camp. I am also helping out with fundraising, so if you have some spare change please feel free to help out. I will put the link at the bottom of my posts until I figure out how to add it to the damn page.

My posts will be mostly garden and bee updates and whatever random silly thing that the kids say or do or I think of. I have a 50,000 word goal so they will be short but I hope almost daily.

Here is my fundraising link:



Thanks Gang!

Oh, That Boy

I was going to write this long winded post about torturing my children yesterday as we drove to the movie theater to see "Dark Shadows". I had bought some songs from the Xanadu soundtrack and played the music at top volume, singing loudly and dancing expressively while driving. I figured that since I had to blow all that money on tickets and popcorn, I might as well make the kids work for it by enduring a 15 minute ride with me, Olivia and the Electric Light Orchestra.

While straightening the house before writing, I found some of Von's school work that I decided to share instead. Here it is with a translation to follow:

It says:
"Last night I was watching Lego explosive diarrhea and I slapped my head on the table"

I need to ask him what the hell "Lego explosive diarrhea" is.

I don't think that his teacher realized what he actually wrote. If you look at the upper left corner-he got a good job sticker.
Actually, his teacher probably did read it, she is just the type to not get angry at a child writing about explosive diarrhea because hey, it's just diarrhea.
I love her.

I think that I will laugh about this paper forever. It's a keeper.

Of Orthodontics and the Apocalypse aka. I Should Have Gotten Those Damn Braces 5 Years Ago.

Let's face it. This blog is a receptacle for the really stupid things that go through my head. Bet you can't wait to read this latest one.

I need braces for my teeth. I need them pretty bad. My teeth have always been a very sensitive issue for me. Sensitive meaning that if someone were to comment about the condition of my teeth, it is very likely that someone will get hit with something. Very hard. So, I had the consultation and estimates done. It's looking like I would be wearing them for about 18-24 months and will get them off sometime around my 40th birthday.

I am hesitating however. It's not because of the cost, the way it will look, or the impending discomfort.
It's the apocalypse.
Think about it. How much will it suck for me, if I get the damn braces and the end of the world happens? Of course I wouldn't be one of the lucky first ones to get vaporized, crushed or devoured by the ravenous zombie hordes. I'd be the luckless asshole left, scraping to stay alive with braces stuck on her teeth for the rest of her Goddamn life. Yeah yeah I know, I can just take them off with pliers or something, but then the fucking teeth will get even more crooked having been shifted in the first place.

It's ridiculous I know. I don't stay up late in the night worrying and thinking post-apocalyptic thoughts about my family, civilization crumbling, lack of food and clean water, etc. I worry about how I will get the braces off.

I have the same problem with birth control implants. I decided against the IUD one in favor of the one that gets stuck in the arm. The actual reason being that if the end comes, I'd rather cut it out of my arm than go digging around you know where when it has to come out. (For the record, I have never once denied having serious mental issues)

Just yesterday I saw the news online about the guy eating the other guys face off in Miami. The attacker growled at a person that was screaming for him to get off the poor victim. He continued to chew on the man's face even after being shot. It seems that the South has a special kind of crazy person or it's the beginning of the end. I may bump up the date of getting the braces in the hope of beating this break down of civilization scenario.

Or I think I may have to try really hard to keep my orthodontist alive if the end comes.

Irony

It is a long long weekend. Last day thank God. I am gearing up for NaNoWriMo summer camp where I take a month to write a novel with online support. My daily posts are to get me into the habit of writing every day. I dropped the ball yesterday. I only have my family to blame. They are terrific scapegoats.
A few things:

Saturday night I was watching TV with a client at work. We came across the new version of Sherlock Holmes on BBC. I have always wanted to watch the show. I watched as the fellow who was obviously Sherlock, get in a rooftop confrontation ending with **SPOILER ALERT** one man shooting himself in the mouth and Sherlock taking a nosedive off of the building. I frantically called a friend, who reassured me that Sherlock was faking his death and that there will be a season 3. It's funny, I always want to know what happens at the end of a movie and will make people tell me. I will flip ahead at some point with every book I read. But I gotta say I was a little disappointed finding out the big finale this time. I watched the first episode of season 1 and am now officially hooked.
Von wanted to watch it with me yesterday morning. I said no because there was too much violence. He said,"I love violence!" I said there were dead people. He said,"I love dead people!" I said it was boring because all it was about was a bunch of adults talking. He said, "Oh..Ok" and went back to his video game.

Moving on.
I never wrote about the moment in which I truly understood the meaning of irony. It was always one of those things where I thought I might understand it, but I never used the word for fear of getting it wrong. I know that Alanis Morrisette did. I overheard someone talking about how the things she sung about in that song weren't all that ironic. They said that rain on your wedding day isn't ironic unless you had your wedding in Arizona just to avoid the rain and it ends up raining. I got it, but I just didn't feel it. Irony was a word to be feared for me and avoided because I hate looking/sounding like a dumb ass. (Yeah yeah yeah-how ironic, I sound like a dumb ass just writing about how I don't like to sound like a dumb-ass).

I made plans to go to a different coffee place with a friend. We had been meeting at Starbucks and decided on a change of pace for the next time we met. I thought of suggesting one place that I usually go to. It is my friends business and I love supporting her. I decided against it because there was an acquaintance of mine that frequents that place. I used to meet a different friend there and the acquaintance would show up and hang out with me and my friend and talk..a lot. And always show up when we met. And talk..a lot. I decided to suggest a different place solely to avoid this person.
Imagine my surprise when I looked up from my cup to see who else, but the person standing across the room and smiling at me.
And that's how I got to really understand irony down to the tips of my toes.


The children are up. Gardening, BJ's with Horst and work beckon. Better get on with it

Busy Day

It's been an interesting, busy and productive day. Having forgotten my wallet and making this discovery in the parking lot of the grocery store I was able to come home and write a quick one.

Interesting-yesterday I gave one of my older daughters service providers a piece of my mind. First thing this morning, one of my clients parents called me to give a piece of their mind. Karma I say.

I never can grow foxglove to my liking, the plants are always small and stunted (not enough sun) Walking the dog yesterday I found that some seeds from my plants must have washed down the driveway to my neighbors yard and behold:

Friggin beautiful

I found a very large spider in my beehive yesterday, I suspect getting fat off of my bees (and she is most likely pregnant) I caught her, she spent the night for my kids to enjoy, and she is now relocated to my deck outside where many a jumping spider likes to hide in the crevices. I wish this picture wasn't so blurry but you can see how she is looking right at the camera with a "What the fuck are you looking at" look:

Here is a better one-she was really fat

And we had a very nice dragonfly come to visit

And I'm off
Have a lovely weekend