Driving Without Headlights,

Contemplation

2012-01-21T19:04:00.000-05:00

Greenwood Cemetery, New York City

Say good-bye to me, my friend,

for the time to leave has come.

Never again shall I roam these streets-

so alive with the setting sun.

There's a strange sort of kinship-

with those that rule the night.

A strange sort of sadness lingers

to think of their unhappy plight.

Although they may be good people,

some are friends that will truly be missed,

there is an evil that stays just below us

intent on stealing a kiss.

With a trembling hand I am waving

and the road I must travel is long.

I don't know if I will make it

but my spirit will always fight on.

Denise Brazil, 1994

I found this somewhat depressing poem in an old address book. I wrote this on a Greyhound bus bound for Michigan in August of 1994. At the time I was leaving my home town to move half way across the country with the hope of starting a new, and more productive, life for myself and my son. I was 29 years old and had always figured that I would never live beyond 30. If you think you don't have a future then there is never any pressure to plan to for it! Ah, the ignorance of youth.

I should probably note that I was successful in my quest to better my life. And I'm still alive, obviously. I went to college and got a degree, got married, worked for 10 years, got laid off, went back to college and earned another degree. Now I am working again. I should be happy with my accomplishments- and most days I am. But there are still days when I wonder, where would I be right now if I hadn't gotten on that bus?

Thanks for the sunshine, Duff!

2011-10-04T20:36:00.000-04:00

Many of you may have been wondering just where in the hell I have been all summer. It has been a long time since I have written anything and now here we are, already into fall! Let's just say that the summer was a long one for me. Suffice it to say that depression led me down some dark and lonely paths...but a new doctor and some Prozac has brought a manageable gloom to my doom!

I started a new job last month, in a doctor's office in a small farm town about 10 miles away from home. It's a busy place and I run around like a chicken with a my head cut off (who in the hell came up with that saying, by the way? like I would ever want to cut a chicken's head off and watch it run around?

The big huge bummer in my life right now is pets. In the last couple of weeks I have lost many furry friends and it just plain sucks.

My sister's cat, Sammy, passed away after 14 years of being Monica's best friend. There will never be another cat like Sammy- he was like no cat I have ever met. He ruled the house and when I came to visit he would lay on my suitcase. Sometimes he wouldn't let me into the suitcase. Sammy has swiped at me a few times when things weren't going his way. I have lost my share of pets over the years- some of the losses hurt more than others. Sammy is one of those losses and I will truly miss him.

I found two 3 week old kittens the day before Sammy died. They were sitting by a porch of a empty house across from the clinic where I work. The little black kitten had such a bad upper respiratory infection that her little eyes were stuck shut, and her little gray sister (with big blue eyes) ran right into my foot. I picked them both up and took them to the vet on the corner. (yes, it is a small town!) $114 dollars later I had two kittens who needed a home. Fortunately for me, one of the ladies at work took the kittens home and agreed to keep them. I even got the $114 back! But, the unspeakable happened. She came to work last week and had to tell me that one of the kittens had somehow gotten into the toilet bowl and drowned. The little black one. It was awful. A horrible accident that no one can blame anyone for. Rest in peace, Salem.

On Saturday Rose Marie called to tell me some sad news. Her Thoroughbred mare, Star, who is around 30 years old and suffering from EPM (equine protozoan myelencephalitis) is not doing well and she thinks it might be time to put her down. Even as I write this tears well up in my eyes and I just want to sob because the thought of it just breaks my heart. I spent Sunday afternoon with Star and I do think it is probably time. But it hurts so much.

Today Star was laid to rest. She was a Mounted Police Horse, rode in Civil War Musters, and in the last 5 years has given handicapped children rides around the paddock. Star made everyone smile and she gave everyone who rode her confidence and pride. I love her so very much and will miss her terribly.

Believe it or not, I got even more bad news today, but nothing that I can talk about right now. However, the one good thing that happened today was I got to see my friend Duff on CNN this morning and this afternoon Amazon delivered my copy of his new book! So Duff, if you happen to read this- thanks for giving my day a ray of sunshine in the middle of all these clouds.

And please, don't say that "everything happens for a reason" or any other such crap. Sometimes, life really does just suck.
~Delilahsue
10-4-2011

Ahoy Mateys! Greetings from the Michigan Tundra!

2011-02-02T08:05:00.000-05:00

The big news this morning is the snow storm that is making its way through the Midwest Or rather, it began as big news yesterday, or maybe it was the day before? Such a lot of hype for something as mundane as snow. In keeping with the hype, my dear husband, Butch, watched The Weather Channel (HD, of course!) all last night. He diligently rearranged all of the cars in the driveway for maximum snow removal, filled the snow blower with gas and oil, and repeatedly told me that I would not be going to school tomorrow. Jackson Community College always waits until the last minute to close, even though it is located out in the country and the roads that lead to it are some of the last to be plowed. But they did cancel school for today- at 8:22 last night- not that it made a lot of difference to me. My plan to sleep in a little was interrupted by Butch's early morning exuberance at delaying his drive into work because, well, he can't get out of the driveway!

Here's the thing. If the all-knowing Butch deemed that I would not attending classes today then why would he think that he would be leaving for work on time? OR even going to work? Hello! Big snow storm! Public Safety announcements are requesting that everyone stay home until the roads are cleared and it is safe to drive! He drives an Impala for gods sake- not a 4x4! But no, he gets up at the butt-crack of dawn, as he always does, then proceeds to call his fellow co-workers to see what they are doing. And for some reason, he thinks that when he talks on his cell phone he has to raise his voice. "HEY! YOU GOIN IN? WHAT? YOU GOT STUCK? OKAY. GUESS I'LL WAIT THEN." Needless to say, between his conversations and every light in the house turned on I got up at 5:30am.

Around 6:00am I figured I could try to go back to sleep because Butch had settled back down, the dogs were settled down, and I was still sleepy. Just as I was dropping back to sleep the leaf-blowing-in-the-wind-neighbor decided it would be an awesome time to fire up his snow blower. Yep. Right outside my bedroom window. Every other pass he makes by the house, he blows snow against the side...not the brightest bulb in the box, is my neighbor,I'm afraid. Okay fine. I definitely will not be getting any more sleep, thank you very much. But Butch? Well Butch is currently snoring in the next room, oblivious to anything going on around him. Dammit!

Linden got up about 20 minutes ago. She says the funniest things! The gray cat, Tissie, likes to sleep in the bathroom on the rug. So if you go into the bathroom she starts meowing- which sounds like howling, if you ask me. Anyway, Linden told her to get out of the bathroom, that she could put her make-up on later. I thought it was cute.

Butch is now outside using the snow blower to prepare the driveway for take-off. He doesn't want to stay home today- he says he will be bored and would rather go to work. But if he has to move the snow out of the driveway in order to leave, what is he going to do about the roads that aren't plowed yet? Maybe his plan is to push his snow blower all the way to work? I mean, its only an hour away!

Time to wrap things up here and get moving on my homework. This is Delilahsue signing off from the snow covered tundra of the Midwest....may the force be with you!

2011, Where Are The Hovercrafts?

2011-01-04T12:00:00.000-05:00

We are now into the 4th day of the year 2011. If you would have asked me 20 years ago where I thought I would be in the year 2011 I probably would have said something like "I don't intend to live that long"; me being the brilliant ray of sunshine that I am. But hey, I have lived that long and wow, lookee here, it's day 4 of the year 2011 and I find that nothing has really changed since the year 2010.

I am still living in the clutter of my existence, watching dog hair fall off of my dogs and roll into huge balls on the floor. The cat is still puking up hair balls in the bathroom, and Michigan is still freezing-ass cold. My husband has been home from work for 5 DAYS now and I have had it up to my eyeballs with talk radio and all things college football. There are a million projects I could be doing here at home with my time off from school but I am having big trouble with that whole "motivation" thing. Same goes with losing weight. I need to lose weight again since it spent all 2010 sneaking back onto me with a vengeance. Now I have to concentrate on getting it OFF- never an easy thing with my body type, metabolism, and that whole depression thing that comes and goes.

When I was in high school I took a creative writing class and one of our assignments was to write about what life would be like in the year 2000. I wrote of transportation being hovercraft instead of our fuel-powered vehicles, technology that hadn't been thought of yet, and a world that closely resembled the Jetsons. I guess we all know how far from the truth that was!

So now it is 2011 and I am sitting here in my clutter wondering, "where are the hovercrafts?"

Since Butch is home there is a plan for today. Butch always has to have a plan. The current plan is for him to go to the grocery store and for me to clean out my closet. It seems that my "shoe overflow" is creating a tripping hazard for him and therefore, I need to clean up all of the shoes that my closet has regurgitated due to over-stuffing. I am also supposed to be making vegetable beef soup, continue with the laundry, and vacuum. Luckily, this plan does not have a time set to it so that means that although it is almost noon I am not yet behind. Yay!

And there you have it. Day 4 of 2011. No hovercraft. But hey, I have a "plan"!

Can Anyone Hear Me Over The TV?

2010-12-25T11:56:00.000-05:00

Christmas time is not a good time for me. I hate the commercialism, the spending of money I don't have on things no one really needs. Or do they? See, that is the question. One that will not be answered for me today, and then will be put on hold until next Christmas when the whole viscious cycle starts all over again. Bah Humbug!

It's Christmas morning and I tried to be good about getting up and sitting with my husband in the living room. I woke up to the TV blaring- the usual noise that only happens on the days that Butch doesn't go to work. I enjoy a bit of quiet upon waking- a cup of coffee and reading a few pages in a book before noise and conversation come into the mix. Obviously, that did not happen this morning. My mom rang me at 6:30am HER time, which was 9:30am my time, and since I also don't do a lot of talking on the phone first thing in the morning, that conversation was short. My perpetual early morning crabbiness can also be credited to the fact that my family is so far away- or at least, it can be credited to that reason for today anyway.

Yesterday. OMG! Yesterday was a Christmas Eve to remember. Or not. Woke up to the TV so I kept my ear plugs in and tried to finish the book I was reading. Butch came in with the telephone- Rose Marie wanted to know if I could help her and Bill with her horse, Saber. Help with what, you ask? Well, here's the story.

Saber is a BIG Appaloosa/Quarter Horse gelding. His personality is akin to an oversized lap dog and he is not always easy to manuever as he is still pretty green. Somehow Saber scraped all of skin off of his upper back leg- down to the bone but thankfully missed any muscle. As we do not have an actual barn where our horses are, we also do not have a stall that we can put in him. The vet came out on Thursday and said that he would need to be stalled for a couple of weeks- and he will come back out to debride the wound next week after we get him into a stall. Rose's daughter-in-law, and also my friend, Ann, lives about 4 miles up the road and she has a stall or two so the plan was to move Saber to her house. I left Thursday afternoon to go home and the plan was that Ann would come with the stock trailer to move Saber. Apparently, after almost two hours of coaxing, pulling, prodding, etc. that never happened.

Rose's phone call was a request for help. After the previous nights debacle she and Bill had decided that they were going to WALK him the 4 miles and could I please help? Of course I agreed- anything was better than listening to the TV at full volume and cleaning floors! I got my outdoor clothes on, but before I could leave Bill called back and the plan had again changed. Ann was going to bring the trailer back and leave it so that we could try to get Saber on it at our own pace. Now, I have a horse that does not trailer well. It is such a stressful process that I don't even wish to take her anywhere. Now Rose understands my reasoning. However, on the way to Vandercook I made a pitstop at the vet and picked up a "calming" shot- just in case. Rose and Bill made a good show of attempting to get a 3500 pound horse into a trailer that he did not want to get into. We resorted to the shot. Great idea in theory- it always worked for my horse, anyway. But in this case we ended up with a 3500 pound SLEEPY horse who still refused to get into the trailer- and now he is just about dead weight! We get him right to the edge. I have my left shoulder firmly wedged under his right back haunches- almost like he is sitting on my shoulder. And I am putting direct pressure under his rib cage with my right fist. At the same time, Bill is in an opposite position of mine, and Rose is tugging on his head with all of her whole 100 pounds. The front feet are NOT going on the trailer. I am not sure if he can actually pick up his front feet! I'm thinking, "what are we going to do if he decides to sit down? Why isn't anyone filming this?" Okay- so I decide to pick up his foot and physically put it in the trailer. I don't recommend that anyone else try this- as it is I am still amazed that we survived this whole ordeal with no major injuries! And yes- putting that foot onto the trailer floor worked- all of sudden the horse was in the trailer and I was shutting the door so he wouldn't back out, and Saber? Saber was looking around and wondering why the hell he woke up inside a trailer!

I went home after that and showered. I was planning on thinning my bangs. But I had both the thinning sheers and the cutting scissors out at the same time. Yep. I grabbed the wrong scissors and cut a chunk out of my bangs! Luckily I have a lot of hair and it's not noticeable- but shit! What's next? Oh, I scraped by knuckle while carrying the laundry basket and couldn't get it stop bleeding. Then I was wrapping presents for the grandkids and pinched my finger with the scissors. At least that one didn't bleed! Butch and I ran out to run a couple of errands and stopped at McDonald's for a quick lunch and I bit my lip. (still hurts!) Then we were supposed to go pick up Alyssa and go over to my brother-in-law's at 6:00pm. But at around 4:30pm as I was finishing up with the present wrapping I noticed that the furnace was not working! It kept trying to light itself- but would not stay on. Are you kidding me? Really?

Called the repair man. He came around 6:00pm. Turned out that a sensor was dirty- a quick fix for only $110. Butch was thrilled we got off that cheap! Me, I was just waiting for the next ball to drop.

The rest of the night was relatively normal. Not that my life is ever completely normal. There is always some little melodrama going on. Currently Butch is mad at me because I don't answer his questions in a civil manner. Whatever that means. Matt stayed at Linden's last night so I know he will be having a good day. After the horse pushing marathon yesterday I am sore- and my left arm keeps tingling and falling asleep- which is annoying when one is trying to type!

Now it is almost noon and I suppose I should go do something constructive. Dean, Joelle, and the girls are coming over for dinner tomorrow- and opening their presents. It seems that Hannah's mother did not wish to share Hannah with her Dad for Christmas so he can't pick her up until late tonight. I will keep my thoughts of Hannah's mother to myself but suffice it to say that someday I hope every rotten thing she has ever done will return to her threefold!

And that my friends, is my Christmas so far. I truly hope that everyone else is having a wonderful day. As for me, I am going to go do some more laundry!

Hugs to all, and to all a Merry Christmas!

The Side Effect of Home Remedies

2010-10-18T21:54:00.000-04:00

Last week I got yelled out of bed by my irate husband because there was something in the bathtub that he could not identify. He wanted to know if my son and his girlfriend were here at the house- as if I am going to know that answer without at least looking out the window to see if their cars were outside.

I mean, it's not like I can keep track of where they are when I am sound asleep and they weren't around when I went to bed!

I guess I can understand why he was upset- he got up and was following his normal routine that was shockingly interrupted by what looked to be either dead maggots or possibly puke in the bottom of the bathtub. Now his whole routine was messed up and therefore I must be punished for the sins of my son and his girlfriend.

When I finally drag myself out of bed to stand at the doorway of the bathroom all I see is Butch, kneeling next to the bathtub with the water running. He is watching the water flow all around the unidentified substance and I swear there is smoke coming out of his ears. He reminded me of a young boy playing boats in the bathtub...until he opened his crabby-ass mouth and proceeded to say all sorts of mean things.

I went downstairs where the kids were sleeping. I woke Matt up and asked him what was in the bottom of the bathtub. Linden then replied, "Oh, that was me. I have an itchy rash all over my body so I took an oatmeal bath. I thought all of the oatmeal would have dissolved or went down the drain."

Oatmeal. right.

It occurred to me that Linden must not realize that Old Fashioned Quaker Oats DO NOT DISSOLVE. EVER. It is one of the reason that it is considered bulk fiber. And thankfully, if all of that oatmeal WOULD have went down the drain we would probably have had to call the Roto-Rooter dude to come unplug the drain.

At least it wasn't puke or dead maggots. (live maggots would have been moving, right?) Armed with this very good news I hauled my butt back up the stairs only to find Mr.Tirade cooking his breakfast/lunch. He asked me what the stuff in the tub was, I told him it was oatmeal.

"Oatmeal? Why in the hell would it be oatmeal?" Can you believe he actually got more pissed?

Armed with a hand full of paper towel I attacked that bathtub full of oatmeal and had it cleaned out in less than a minute. I saved the day! Only to have Butch say to me, "We'll talk about this when I get home."

What? Talk to me about what? It was oatmeal. I cleaned it up. Should have been the end of the story. I know it was for me. I went back to bed.

Yet, it came up for the next two days before he finally let it go. All angry tirades aside, I'm just thankful it wasn't dead maggots or puke.

Here's the really funny part- I went to make an apple crisp last weekend and guess what? I'm out of oatmeal!

Men Can Be Such A Pain In The Patootie!

2010-10-02T16:50:00.001-04:00

About a month ago I finally decided that I HAD to make an appointment to see my doctor because all of my prescription refills were close to none. I have put off making an appointment since this time last year because quite frankly, I hate paying the $20 co-pay when I am not actually sick. So I made the appointment for October 1st- which was yesterday.
Yesterday began as yet another life test in patience for me.

Butch came home from work, coincidentally, on the same day that I finally made my appointment, and very nonchalantly said that he thought maybe he should go see our doctor. Now let me explain something. Butch hates to go to the doctor and is convinced that he knows more than any doctor does so therefore visiting a doctor is a complete waste of time. and money. So imagine my surprise when he WANTS to go see the doctor!

It just so happened that while lifting something very heavy out of a crate at work, his belly button "popped out". Yes. Popped OUT. I am not a doctor, but I have enough sense to know that this symptom is most likely a hernia. Oh, and he also informed me that this is like, the third time? that this whole "popping out" thing has happened. What finally convinced him to see a doctor was a story from one of the guys at work who told him that he knew someone who ignored his hernia and ended up having part of his intestine cut out after it began to die and got gangrene. (can I just say EW!)

Okay, so I called the doctor's office back and added Butch to my appointment, which is why both of us went to the doctor at the same time yesterday. At 8:00 in the morning.

I am not an enthusiastic person in the morning. I have a routine. And I don't like to talk, or argue, until after 10:00 am. At 7:00am we are in the car on our way to Chelsea- a 30 minute drive east on I-94. I drove because Butch tends to wander all over the road, goes 10mph OVER the speed limit in town, and 10mph UNDER the speed limit on the highway. Not to mention his braking method. A good 1/2 mile before approaching a stop sign or traffic light he slows down and starts pumping the brakes. I swear to the gods that it is just like being in a roller coaster that is attempting to slow down at the end of the ride. I can totally end up feeling the need to puke after riding around with him! My stomach actually flips around- it's ridiculous!

So I am driving. And he is running a constant jabber-fest in the passenger seat. The other people are driving too fast, I am in the wrong lane, why don't speed up?, don't let that guy pass you!, look at that dead skunk, what did that road sign say, watch out! traffic is slowing down up there, etc. I turn up the radio, he turns it down. I hum, he whistles. (I hate it when he whistles. he's never in tune) I am ready to kill him and wish I had thought to just take a hard left turn and pushed him out of the car door! I used the wrong driveway at the doctor's office, why didn't you turn? that guy would've slowed down!

And now we are at the office. I am looking for my lint brush and can't find it. He goes inside without me, but doesn't check in. I finally give up on the lint brush, but ask him about it when I get inside. He says that he "thinks" it might be in a parking lot somewhere because he "might" have thrown it out because it was in his way. Really? Are you kidding me? I am so ready to kill him!

I check in. While I am checking in I had to change some information for my file. I asked him if he made any changes. That is when the receptionist asked me if he had an appointment too. Of course I then have to check him in. And all the way back to the waiting room he is informing me that he is NOT getting weighed....and I am trying to figure out how I can get the doctor to give him a tranquilizer. Or an enema!

Needless to say, I was so glad when the morning was over, although I have to say that the afternoon turned out better. Butch took a nap!

The Resiliance of Nature

2010-07-19T09:29:00.000-04:00

My husband went through a phase a couple of years ago and went crazy building birdhouses. We have a good 10 birdhouses in the backyard and a few feeding stations and every once in a while he gets the Bushnell's (binoculars) out and watches our feathered friends. Last night was one of those times.

I had only been home for probably a hour from spending 8 hours standing in one place unlocking, then sorting, videos and the now out-of-business Hollywood Video store. There hasn't been any air conditioning in the store for at least a month now so the temps in there have been between 90 and 100 degrees. I was tired, my feet were sore, and I was in no mood for the constant, "hey! come look at this!" or "hey! did you hear that?" coming from my husband via his living room chair or backdoor bird watching station.

However, he came and got me from my Algebra homework to look at something in one of the birdhouses. It appeared as though a bird was stuck in the opening of the house and could not get out. Due to my funky eye problems I can no longer look through binoculars and see clearly so rather than guess what he might be looking at I ventured out into the backyard to attempt to see for myself what he thought he saw. I will admit I thought he was just looking at a leaf or something.

Low and behold there was a bird in the opening of the house. A nestling, ready to go make his way in the world, was flapping and pulling but could not make it fully out of the hole. What the hell? I immediately felt sorry for the little guy and attempted to climb the fence in the flip-flops to help him out but he was REALLY stuck. At this point Butch instructed me to get the ladder- but I sent him for it because he is the guy, you know? So he gets the ladder in place and I climb up a few steps and again try to free the little bird. It was a sparrow by the way...fully feathered and ready for the world except for his fuzzy bird head. He was not at all happy with my interference and kept attacking me with his little beak that fortunately for me was not all that strong yet so I only felt pinches.

Okay, this is where it gets weird. The house itself was so old that it came off of the post so I brought it down and insisted that the poor little guy was going to kill himself if we did not get the roof off of the house and free him from whatever had a death grip on him from inside. Butch tore the roof off and started pulling all of the nesting crap out and almost broke the little guy's neck because when he pulled from the top the little guy started to go back into the hole! So here I am in a panic, yelling at Butch, and then we discover that there are actually two nestlings in the nest. And upon further inspection the other bird's leg is wrapped around the very bottom portion of our escapists leg so that they look as if they are attached!

I am in full blown panic now because our escaping bird does not have a foot. The circulation to his foot was cut off for so long that the foot is dead- and the other guy is attacking Butch's hand from inside the nest. The only way to free them is to pull the dead claw off the escaping bird- and I can't bring myself to do it. So Butch steps in and gives a little tug and the escaping bird flutters to the ground while the other nestling flies off.

I am sure that my little friend is going to die since he only has one foot and a stump of a leg. I catch him and I am holding him in my hands and I am crying and Butch is yelling at me to let him go he's going to be fine and the mosquitoes are biting me....you get the picture. Okay, so I let the bird go- over the fence of course- because our youngest dog Ranger loves to chase birds and we all know how that turns out, and the bird flies around a little and heads off for the brush.

It was then that Butch pointed out to me that we have seen birds in the wild that only had one leg and they adapted so he was sure this one would be fine. I blamed him for the whole thing because he did not clean out the bird house like he was supposed to after the nesting season is over. If he had, there would have been more room in the house and the little guy's foot would have had proper circulation. He should know by now that in some way or another it's always his fault!

This morning I made a brief trek to the back of the yard and examined the bushes for a dead bird and thankfully, I did not find one. I am going to assume that our feisty friend is already adapting to his new life and that maybe I will see him again. And now I am going to finish that damn Algebra homework!

Helping Your Man To Be A Better Man

2010-02-11T18:17:00.000-05:00

Romantic men are, apparently, hard to find. (I definitely did not find one.) And since this is February, which means Valentines Day- I thought it would be a good idea to write down some suggestions for the not-so-romantic men.
I'm not sure if men even read this blog. But I'm thinking that the women who read this blog can always print it out and put it in a place where they are certain to find it. (you know, the magazines in the bathroom, taped to the coffee maker or 6-pack of beer, places like that)

First of all, here are some things FOR MEN TO AVOID DOING OR SAYING:

I know it's hard to believe, but most women do NOT like to be groped while they are cooking or doing the dishes. It does not turn us on, but it is extremely annoying and definitely a mood-killer. Don't grope. Oh, and don't grab your crotch and ask me if I "want any of this". The answer is no.
Even harder to believe, I'm sure, is the fact that most of us don't like being groped and grabbed when we are driving down the road either! Keep your damn hands to yourself- and don't bitch about my driving. At least I don't drive like I'm drunk when I'm totally sober like Mr.Can't-keep-my-hands-to-myself!
It's really difficult to "get in the mood" when the dogs are scratching and whining at the bedroom door, the TV is blaring in the other room, and there is a time limit because the game will be on in 10-minutes! Really? Well one answer to that might be-good thing it's over in less than 3 minutes. And I'm not referring to the game.
Don't make fun of my hair, tell me that it looks like I've gained weight, or ask me why I haven't washed your socks yet.
Might be a good idea to follow that rule that your mom (hopefully) taught you when you were young- If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all. This rule could also be used when you are watching the news and you feel the need to yell at the people on the TV as if they can actually hear you. News flash! They can't hear you! But I can- and so can the neighbors.

And here are some things FOR MEN TO REMEMBER:

"Nothing" means something, and you should pursue the answer until we give it to you. We just need to make sure you are really listening- not whether or not you care what is wrong.
"No" means maybe, or even yes, in some cases. Since each case is different you should be more aware of the way we say "no" in order to decide if no means no, no means yes, or no means maybe. This is something you should practice.
We like you to share your feelings and talk to us. Seriously. Something else you should practice. And not your feelings about the top draft picks or the latest lottery winner.
Compliments are also good- and chocolate is always welcome. That being said- don't surprise us with chocolate and then mention how fattening it is an hour later. This makes you lose points.
Everything you do wrong makes you lose points. What does this mean? Honestly, I have no idea but it must be bad because all of us women talk about points. Just be careful not to lose points.
If it is Saturday and I am doing laundry, vacuuming, doing dishes, and basically working my ass off while you sit on the couch all day and watch TV, DO NOT ask me what is for dinner. You could die. Seriously.

And last, but not least, the most important thing to remember. Even if we say NO, we don't want anything for Valentine's Day, we are lying. Do not believe it! We are setting you up for failure so don't be stupid enough to fall for it. A chocolate heart, a mushy card, or a flower will definitely show us you can be a bit of a romantic- at least once a year.

It's The New Year. 2010

2010-01-06T17:13:00.000-05:00

Hello 2010! It is now the 6th day of the new year. The time when everything starts out fresh and positive. The time for new beginnings and resolutions that are never kept.

It is also the time of freezing cold temperatures in the Midwest and a high gas and electric bill.

Yes, it is the 6th day of the new year and boy, has my year been crappy so far!

Ever heard of a guy named Murphy? He is famous for "Murphy's Law". Familiar with that law? The one that says "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong". Well, my resolution for the new year is to find that guy, Murphy, and kick his ASS!

If anyone knows where this dude hangs out please let me know. I'm sure I am not the only one looking for him. Seriously.

Let's recap the last two weeks. Father-in-law goes into the hospital the Monday after Christmas. He goes home on the 31st. The mother-in-law goes to the University of Michigan for a test on the 31st that gets cancelled because her blood count is too low. She ends up in our local hospital later that evening and just went home yesterday. Two days ago, (another Monday), I ran some errands and went to the grocery store. As I left the grocery store the van didn't want to shift into gear. Then it started making whining noises- like the shifting bands weren't moving or something. I got it home, checked the fluid (which was fine), and hoped that it was just having a bad day. It had another bad day on Tuesday- and the unofficial diagnosis is that the transmission is gone, dead, broken, kaput, whatever you want to call it. SO NOW I HAVE NO TRANSPORTATION!

I realize that I did not always use my best judgement when I was younger and I keep thinking that this is just karma. You know, what goes around comes around? But at this point I think I should be pretty much paid up in the karma department so it has got to be this Murphy guy that is now making my life miserable. (Murphy, if you happen to reading this, your law sucks!)

Since my family lives so far away I can't borrow Mom or Dad's car until I can afford to buy one, but fortunately I do have some very good friends here in Michigan that always seem to pick me up when I get knocked down. This time Rose's husband, Bill, has given me one of his cars off of his used car lot to drive so I can get back and forth to school. And want to know the best part? It has a heater that works!!!

I know. I am lucky to have such good friends. And if I wanted to look at the positive side of things I could also mention that both mother-and-father-in-law are doing well. Murphy's Law may not apply to me at all, really, if I look at the "big" picture. But you know what? If I come across that Murphy dude I am still gonna kick his ass!

RIP Marco-with-the-big-ears

2009-12-17T17:41:00.000-05:00

I was with my friend Marco when he died this morning. It was the beginning of a really crappy day.

Marco is a Czech German Shepard Dog who belongs to my friend Ann. He was big, black, and fuzzy with these really big ears that were always pointing straight up. Because of this I always called him Marco-with-the-big-ears; that was my special name for him.

Marco was extremely smart. He could open cupboards in the kitchen so Ann couldn't keep anything but canned food, pots, and pans in her lower cupboards. I always had to make sure that there wasn't any food left on the counter, not even the butter dish, because Marco would be the one to get into it. He loved to be petted, but once you started he wouldn't let you stop- he'd keep hitting your arm with his nose until you either gave in or made him go lay down. He was a sweet dog who liked everyone.

I'm not quite sure what happened to Marco-with-the-big-ears. He seemed a bit off yesterday morning and was drooling- which was unusual for him. He had a habit of eating underwear, which he would somehow get out of the laundry hamper, but Ann could usually pull it out of the back of his throat. However, she checked his throat last night and there wasn't anything there, although she said he was acting spacey and was still doing a lot of drooling. I'm no expert, but from I seen this morning I suspect that Marco may have had either a stroke or possibly a heart attack. He was 8 years old, which is 56 years old in dog years. He was around 100 pounds, and it is said that larger dogs have shorter life spans. I have no idea if that's true.

I was on my way to Ann's this morning when my cell phone rang. (I drive there every morning to put Jalen on the bus) She wanted to forewarn me that Marco was sick so I wouldn't freak out when I got there. It's no secret that I get very attached to animals and that I could be expected to be extremely emotional in this situation. Unfortunately I did not ask for any details, so while I was expecting a sick dog I was not expecting one so close to death.

Needless to say, I panicked. Marco was not seeing anything, his breathing was shallow, and I knew his time was near. Jasmine, Jalen's sister, was sobbing and wanted me to take him to the vet. I did call Grandpa Bill and asked him to come right away. I was hoping that Marco would hold on until he could get arrive and we got him in the van so that Jasmine could be spared some of the pain of losing him- but that was not to be. I was sitting next to him, talking into his ear with my hand on his heart and then he was just gone. It was so sad. And I was so not the right person to be there because I was crying almost as hard as Jasmine was.

Parents hold different views on how they want their children to be exposed to death. My mom felt that children had no place at funerals so I never went to one until a school friend died in my senior year of high school. I, on the other hand, have always been straightforward with Matt in regards to death. My feeling is that there is no life without death and no matter how old you are it is never going to be easy. But this morning I not only had to cry into Marco's fur behind a closed door, I then had to pull myself together and decide what to tell the kids because I have no freaking clue as to what Ann wants her kids to know!

I opted for the truth.
I told Jasmine that Marco was gone. It was awful.
I told Jalen that Marco was gone. It was still awful.
Then I called Ann and told her that Marco was gone. She cried.
And this all happened before 7:00am.

Jasmine did calm down enough to get Marco's favorite stuffed animals, which I put in his paws so that he could be buried with them. She saved his collar. She sat with him for awhile and told him goodbye. Jalen cried, then got up, got dressed, and went to school. Jasmine came home with me. She was in no shape to go to school and her mom agreed.

We went to a movie this afternoon, The Princess and the Frog, which is a new Disney movie(animated). It was a great movie. It was set in New Orleans so the music was jazzy and upbeat. We picked it because it looked funny and I was positive that no one would die. WRONG!
About 10 minutes left in the show and the damn firefly dies! Can you even believe it? I was like, seriously, you assholes killed off the firefly? Unbelievable. This was so not my day.

As I write this my eyes are teary and I have had a headache since we got out of the movie. Butch is puzzled that I am so upset about someone else's dog. But as I said before, Marco and I went outside together every morning and he was always happy to see me. He was my friend and I will miss him.

Rest in peace Marco-with-the-big-ears.

The Mold Mobile

2009-12-15T19:14:00.000-05:00

I was driving our very old Dodge Caravan (circa 1994) the other day and the outside temperature was about 13 degrees. If the outside temperature is 13 degrees then the temperature inside the van is about 10 degrees! The heater blows ice when it is first turned on, then it SLOWLY changes to almost lukewarm after about, say, an hour. And the heater only has one speed- HI. Needless to say I actually wear a coat and gloves when I have to drive the van- although my usual winter attire is a sweatshirt and a windbreaker.

We bought the van from our mechanic when the transmission in Matt's first car took a crap. I resisted the purchase at first, based solely on the fact that the inside of this thing smelled like wet dog and mold. Thus, I dubbed it the "mold mobile" and refused to ride in it for the first year. Butch was ecstatic about the van! He took the back seat out so the dogs could go for rides and he could take our garbage to the dump. He cleaned the carpet and planted air fresheners under the seats- and kept the windows down as much as possible in the summer time to let it "air out". The outside of the van is kind of white- but the top has grey spots where the paint has peeled off. Someone decided to put GOLD rims on it- and yes, they are still there. The back-window wiper doesn't work, the rear view mirror fell off, one of the four speakers is blown and the other three emit some kind of static when you go over a bump. It uses about a quart of oil every 2-3 weeks, which isn't bad for an engine that has 234,000 miles on it. The passenger door handle is broke, so when you pull it up to open the door you then have to push it back down before getting in or else the door won't close. Oh, and the motor on the driver's side window is in drag mode- which means that when you roll it down you then have to "help" the window roll back up. And just think, now that Butch works 120 miles away (round trip) I get to drive this baby all of the time!

Okay, back to my story. It was really cold in the van and it made me remember something funny that happened to Cindy and I last winter. (Cindy went back to Africa in September and I sure miss her!) We were heading out somewhere on a cold winter's day all bundled up with the heater blowing on high. After about 15 minutes Cindy's teeth are still chattering and I am feeling kind of chilly. I mention it to Cindy.
"Is it getting colder in here?"
"I was thinking that it is." says Cindy.
"This thing is usually a bit warmer by now. I wonder what's wrong?" I say, thinking the worst. That the heater finally went out and there was no way we were going to put a new heater core in a 15 year old van.
As I am talking and thinking this in my head I look down at the heater controls. It took me a minute to realize that I had the temperature switch all the way over on the blue side, which meant that the damn heater WAS blowing cold air but only because I had it on blue instead of red!
Yep. And I have a college degree. Scary huh?
I nonchalantly reach down and move the switch to red as I say to Cindy, "Well duh! I have the heater on blue so it's blowing cold air!"
And for some reason we both found this extremely funny and spent the next five minutes laughing our heads off- presumably because neither one of us thought to check the damn controls?

The van doesn't smell so bad anymore- either that or I am just used to the smell now. It gets me around and I suppose I should be thankful I have something to drive. But sometimes I really wish the damn thing wasn't white.

Things That Make You Go HUH?

2009-12-09T10:57:00.000-05:00

Each morning after Jalen boards the school bus I pop the parking brake on whatever vehicle I happen to be driving and follow the bus down the road. The next stop is about 5 minutes away, and the little boy that gets on the bus has to cross the street. He is probably about 6 or 7 years old wearing a backpack that is almost as big as he is. When the bus puts on the red blinking lights and the stop sign he then waits at the side of the road until she gives him the okay to cross. When he gets the sign he runs in place for a couple of steps before he actually goes across the road- which makes me laugh. It's like this little guy has to get his speed up before he takes off! Puts a smile on my face every time.

We are in the process of getting a "big storm" here in lower mid-Michigan. It snowed a little last night, then warmed up and turned to rain early this morning. This combination results in what I call "melted-slushy-stuff". I wish it would just snow- rain is always such a pain in the butt. Right now the wind is getting pretty wild out there- it roars against the windows and sometimes makes the screen door howl. I like staying inside on days like these- now if I could just get myself motivated to do something while I am inside!

This is the first time Ranger has really seen snow. Last year he was so little that he really didn't enjoy it all that much. But last night he kept wanting to go outside and sniff it- he woke me up at 11:30pm and then at 2:30am. Butch gets up at 3:30am and he said that Ranger was having a grand ol' time outside sniffing the snow, jumping around in it, and basically acting like a crazy dog.

Last week we had a morning in which the moon was still out at 7:30am. It was sitting low in the sky to the west even as the sun was rising in the east. Spectacular sight! I attempted to take some pictures of it- will have to get them uploaded to my computer to see how they turned out. That same morning I was picking up the empty horse buckets from the previous nights feeding. Keep in mind that the buckets are hung on the fence posts, about three feet from the ground. I get to the last bucket...and it is filled with frozen horse poop! I looked in there and I'm thinking, "how in the hell?" Seriously, I was stumped! I thought maybe it was Bill playing a joke on me, but no, that didn't feel right. THEN! I figured it out. One of the horses must have been eating hay with their butt facing the bucket and when they pooped it went in the bucket instead of on the ground! Why do these weird things always happen to me? Luckily, the poop was frozen and I was able to just hit the bucket against the fence and then poured it out.

I have further proof that Butch's granddaughter, Alyssa, is way smarter than her parents. Alyssa will be 3 years old on December 12th. She has been counting since she was 2 and is up to like, 20. She known her ABC's for quite awhile now, and she can read Dr. Suess' HOP ON POP from memory. The one thing she did not excel in was toilet training. She was still wearing diapers up until last week and Dean said she had no interest in using her potty chair. But last week they decided that it was time for her to get out of diapers so they told her she was to go in the potty chair or they would take her TV away. She did well the first day, but the second day she went in her pants soooo, they put her TV in their room and started watching it. Told her that she could have it back tomorrow if she did not go to the bathroom in her pants. Guess what! She hasn't went in her pants since, and she got her TV back. I am thinking about how much money they could have saved by not buying diapers to have tried this a good 6 months ago!

I need to go and actually DO something now. I have been jotting down ideas for stories I want to tell here so stay tuned!

Murphy's Law Has Nothing On Me!

2009-12-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

My luck is so bad I couldn't buy a winning ticket on a fixed horse race. Seriously. And don't try to tell me that "things will get better", because in my case if they do it's only for a very short time.

Let's recap.

I found out about two weeks ago that my unemployment benefits have been cut in half because I took a lower paying job in 2008. They push you to get a job, you accept the job, then they cut your benefits because you made less money at said job. BUT! If I had not gotten a job I would now be getting emergency unemployment benefits at the higher rate. Instead, they have marked the beginning of my financial ruin and possibly a permanent dog house to live in.

Then I get a killer sinus infection. It's a really bad one- you know, where your face and your teeth hurt from the pressure and you have this dry, hacking cough that eventually makes your rib ache? Oh, and your nose is all red and raw from constant blowing and wiping- it's way beyond what Puffs tissue can repair, right?
Wait! There's more! Did you know that there is one kind of Rhino virus that can be passed between dogs, cats, and humans? Yep! And I'll bet you can guess that it's THAT Rhino virus that turned into my secondary bacterial sinus infection- which I have now passed on to all three of my dogs. And you thought you were having a bad day. HA!
I took one to the vet with pussy-snot-looking-stuff coming out of his eye, although all of them had goopy eyes, and the vet was nice enough to give me enough medicine for all five animals in the house, excluding Butch, of course. Okay, so that was a good thing.

Then yesterday I am cooking dinner. I have one of those porcelain topped electric stoves (which I hate) and I had a pot of soup on the back burner. I was slicing roast on one of those plastic-type cutting boards on the stove and not really paying attention to what I was doing. Then the pot started smoking from the bottom. OMG! I inadvertently had pushed the cutting board onto the hot burner and it was melting all over the stove! GEEZ! Now my cutting board looks as if it was remolded to be a deadly weapon as it has a piece of plastic sticking straight out. It needs to be sanded down- or put back on the burner again.

It's only Tuesday. I shudder to think what the rest of the week will be like.

How To Get Your Husband To Clean The Refrigerator

2009-11-22T09:26:00.001-05:00

My husband is extremely annoyed with me this morning. He was completely pissed off at me last night.

I have this habit of taking meat out of the freezer and putting it on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator to thaw. I never think to put said frozen item in a bowl, or on a plate. So, as the item begins to thaw more often than not the package leaks blood all over the shelf, under the shelf, etc. When this happens it is usually Butch that discovers it and cleans it up.

Last night I am in my room, playing a computer game, when from the kitchen comes the yelling of someone who is thoroughly pissed. He is cussing under his breath, slamming things around, and the dogs all migrated to my room for safety. I went to investigate.

I walk into the kitchen to find a small pan of lasagna on the floor and Butch savagely shoving some bloody mary mix into the door of the frig. He tosses a bloody package of Pillsbury pie crusts at me while yelling, "Why in the hell don't you put the meat on a plate! Every time you do this I end up cleaning it up!"
"Go away, and I will clean it up," I said.

More cussing and muttering followed so I, for once in my life, didn't say another word. I left the kitchen, went back to my room, put my earplugs in, and began reading my book. Every once in a while I heard excessive rattling and clanging, but I ignored it. Eventually, he went to bed and so did I.

I got up around 11:00pm to let the dog out and the kitchen was all cleaned up- he even did the dishes! He also hid my cookies! It took me a few minutes to sniff them out. They were on the top shelf of one of the cupboards.

This morning neither one of us spoke to each other. About two hours after we were up I finally asked him if he was still mad at me.

"Yes! I am still mad at you! I'm sick and tired of cleaning up your damn messes!"
"Okay then. I don't need another lecture. Just wanted to know if you were still mad," I said. At the same time I was thinking and how many times have I cleaned up your messes butthead?

Oh well, he'll get over it eventually. In the meantime, you should see how clean my refrigerator is!

Every Party Has a Pooper!

2009-11-21T09:10:00.000-05:00

It's Saturday again, already! Early in the day though, so nothing has really gone wrong yet. Not to worry, there's still time.

I was going to tell the story of how I became a horse owner. But, I am going to wait for a different day. It's been an extremely stressful week so my thoughts are a bit more sporadic than usual.

I found out Tuesday that my unemployment checks are going to be reduced by $680 a month, which is over half off what I was getting. I don't need to tell you that this information sent me into a state of full-blown panic mode! Then I had to tell Butch that I used my 401K money to pay off some credit cards- he took it very well. Now I have to apply for a modification on our mortgage and call my creditors to tell them I can't pay my bills. Is bankruptcy an option? Not sure at this point. But Butch seems to think that losing the house is not such a big deal since we owe way more than it's worth so whatever happens it doesn't look like I will be getting divorced soon.

Now, on to the lighter side of things!

Ranger has decided that he enjoys chewing holes in the blankets on Butch's bed. After the comforter incident I had to put some blankets on the bed that don't actually FIT on the bed. He has taken to messing them up when I leave in the mornings and chewing holes one of them. I think that he and Chester have a grand old time chasing each other through the house when I'm not home- too bad I don't have a nanny-cam!

Weather today is cloudy and gray, maybe we'll even get some rain. I may go out to the farm later and groom my horse; she is a muddy mess! The Michigan football game is on at Noon so Butch will be here shouting at the TV until about 4:00 this afternoon. Then he will be on the phone with his dad or brother and they will discuss whether or not they need to fire the coach. Quite hilarious really. It's like they think that they actually have a say in what happens at the University of Michigan!

That's it for now!

Today Was Saturday

2009-11-14T17:56:00.000-05:00

YAY! I now have one person who is following my blogs! Thanks Mom!

Today was a balmy 68 degrees here in Southern Michigan. It was a gorgeous fall day! And, because my friend Ann would not take no for an answer, I was up at the butt-crack of dawn (6:00am) in order to be at the barn by 7:30am. The plan being to trailer the horses to the Waterloo Recreation Area and ride on the trails there. It's about 1/2 hour away.

First of all, my horse Chynna does not like to get on the trailer. She has a "history"; one that I will not go into now except to say that she has issues with authority. After an hour or more of trying to get her on the trailer- this involves lots of rearing back and dancing on her hind legs and backing up, etc.- I said enough. She was not getting on the trailer and I was not in the mood to deal with her. I ended up taking our other horse, Sienna, who walks right on the trailer like it's no big deal. Totally sucks, but there it is!

We get to the staging area and begin grooming the horses to get the mud off of them before saddling them. Sienna is an Arabian, like Chynna, and prone to freaking out for no apparent reason. I had her tied to the trailer, by the back doors, and somehow she got her lead rope under the very edge of the door. This caused the lead to pull on her halter, which then freaked her out and the next thing you know she is practically sitting on her ass trying to get away from the trailer and the back door is now on the ground! Ann and I tried like hell to lift it back onto it's hinges, but it was way too heavy so she ended up calling her husband to come out and fix it. Then we find out that we can't ride in the woods because it is deer hunting season (a big huge deal here in the redneck part of the state!!) and it would not be safe for us to ride in the woods because someone might mistake us for a deer and shoot us! During this time I also managed to walk into the truck's side mirror, which bruised my shoulder and bent me backward at my lower back, which then caused a cramp in my hip!

We ended up riding in the arena there. Sienna freaked out at a white barrel, jumped sideways and almost threw me off. Another time she got spooked at something and started bucking, but I got her back under control. She's only 5 years old so she has a lot to learn still. Oh, and at one point I was holding Sienna and Ann's horse, Gino, and that little butt-head Gino bit my hand! It didn't really hurt, but I am going to have a bruise!

Butch accuses me of being an accident waiting to happen. I argue the point. (well, with Butch everything is an argument) But today I felt like a disaster waiting to happen! Luckily, the rest of the day was pleasant and I managed to escape any more bruises and scrapes. Tomorrow we are going to cut some firewood for Butch's dad. But I have already made it clear that I am sleeping in!

Monday's Surprise

2009-11-11T18:49:00.000-05:00

It's been somewhat of an eventful week so far. Nothing too dramatic- just the little bumps in the road of life that make each day a bit more interesting.

Let's see. Monday morning I did the usual boy-on-the-schoolbus thing. Then I headed to the farm to feed the horses. Our "barn" is actually a little garage and that is where we keep the hay, the grain, and all of the million horse accessories. Anyway, I open the garage door to grab the bucket of grain for Star. Next to her food bucket is a bucket about a quarter the way filled with water. And there is something floating in the water.
At first glance I thought it was leaves. Then I turned the light on and looked again. Nope! Not leaves. It was two dead mice! And good morning to you too, right? My first thought was that someone left them there on purpose. But, no. Those two must have been thirsty, fell into the bucket, and then had no way to climb back out again. Poor things! I felt bad for them. I mean, who knew mice couldn't swim!

I put them in a bag and left them in the burn barrel to be cremated. Then I disinfected the bucket. The day could only get better after that, right?

Well, let's just say, it didn't get any worse.

Bad Dog!

2009-11-06T20:07:00.000-05:00

Dogs can be very vindictive creatures.

So can cats, but they are much sneakier. Dogs don't care if they get caught getting even with you- they WANT you to know you pissed them off!

Ranger, our youngest dog, was apparently very angry with me this morning. I assume it was because he did not get to go out the front door with me to start the van at 5:45am- but really, it could have been anything.

When I got home from my morning chores guess what I found? FLUFF! Yes, fluff, or stuffing, batting, whatever you choose to call it. Before it made it's debut all over the house it USED to be inside the comforter on our king size bed! Ranger chewed a hole in the seam of the comforter then proceeded to pull the stuffing out in clumps, and even succeeded in pulling the comforter partially inside out. I looked at the bed, looked at all the fluff all over the room, and then asked, "WHO DID THIS?" Budly just looked at me, Chester looked at me like he knew who did it but he didn't want to be the one to snitch, and Ranger? Well Ranger put his ears back and did his slinky-I-know-I'm-in-big-trouble walk towards me. Slowly.

At first I was going to clean up the mess. Then, after I thought about it I decided to leave it for Butch to see. He thought it was pretty funny. (But I still didn't clean it up.)

So a little while ago Butch decided it was time for him to go to bed. I hear him yell, "Denise!"
"What?"
"What do you want me to do with all of these clouds?"
(Here's me, thinking, clouds?)"Just throw them on the floor!"

I figure I'll get to them tomorrow. Or the next day.

The Great Leaf Hunter

2009-10-30T17:44:00.000-04:00

I have a mildly psychotic neighbor who is on a quest to devour every leaf that dares to fall in his yard on a daily basis. And thanks to this neighbor I now know why there are headlights on riding lawn mowers. Because every night, around 7:00pm, Mr. Night Mulcher gets on his faithful mower, Leaf Eater, and proceeds to drive around for a good hour conquering the fallen leaves.

This in itself is not such a big deal. Personally, we don't do much raking, or blowing, leaves, until the trees are bare. Much easier to do it once, than do it every single freaking day! But there are a couple of things that are annoying about Mr. Mulcher.

Um, Mr. Mulcher? Do you realize that EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU PASS MY WINDOW ON YOUR STUPID MOWER YOU ARE THROWING ROCK HAIL AT THE SIDE OF MY HOUSE? Yeah. One of these days you're going to break my window! And, hello? Is there any reason why you have to wait until it's dark to hunt the leaves? Are you thinking that you can sneak up on them better in the dark? Because honestly? That damn headlight gives you away!

(actually, a couple of years ago, when he first got this riding mower, he went crazy and kept mowing our lawn that summer. Which was very nice of him. But we still had a storm door on the front and his mower threw a rock into it and shattered it. We never told him he broke it because we didn't want him to feel bad!)

He hasn't a clue that he is shooting rocks out the side. Or he just doesn't care. But, I honestly think that he just doesn't have a clue.

Last night when I heard the mower start up I yelled, "You have GOT to be kidding?! Is he obsessed or what? Unbelievable!" Butch just laughed and made a comment about wearing a helmet if I am sitting by my window. Smart ass.

Tonight it's raining. I told Butch I didn't think Mr. Mulcher would be braving the weather this evening. His reply?
"You better hope he doesn't figure out a way to attach an umbrella to that thing!"

I actually found that idea to be hilarious. I am totally picturing this heavyset, slightly balding man attaching an umbrella to the back of the seat with duct tape, then cruising around the yard...yep, good times! So if he does rig up his mower with an umbrella I am definitely getting a picture...and maybe even a video! I'll call it something like, True Life Adventures of the Great Leaf Hunter, starring mildly psychotic Mr. Mulcher and his sidekick Leaf Eater.

My other option? Not sure at this point. Think he would get the hint if I put band-aids all over the side of my house??

Let Him Eat Cake!

2009-10-27T20:41:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, it's okay to let kids have chocolate cake for breakfast.

You're probably thinking, no, it isn't, but here's my way of thinking on the subject.

First, let me explain that I have a friend who works as a teacher a good hour and a half away from her home. She has two school age children and my job is to put the younger one on the school bus each morning. Sounds easy, right?
NOT.
This child, I'll call him Joe, does not get moving quickly in the morning. I do a lot of "suggesting" at the almost-top-of-my-lungs before he manages to drag himself into an upright position. Some days I threaten to dress him (he's 9, so that's definitely a scary threat!) and other days I just tell him he is going to school in his underwear. Thankfully, I have not had to make good on my threats.
The thing is, once he's up, he's a great kid to hang out with. But there have been a few mornings that he has went without breakfast due to his sloth-like movements. I feel bad about that, but it's not like I don't try to get him moving!
Yesterday was his 9th birthday and I knew they were having cake last night. So when I got to the house this morning I went looking for the cake. I couldn't find it, so I called Ann.
"Did you guys really eat all of the cake?"
She's like, "no, it's in the cupboard where the plates are." OHHHH. Well, at least she didn't hide it from me. Everything has to go in a cupboard or the dogs will get up on the counter and eat stuff. That's a story for another time.
So Joe actually gets up at a decent time this morning and I am going to make him his usual frozen waffles with a pound of syrup and I am getting the cake out when he says, "can I have cake?"
I thought back to this past February when I had baked a cake for my husband's birthday and our granddaughter had spent the night. The next morning she and I had cake for breakfast and she thought that was the greatest thing! Still talks about it, actually. And I figured, as much syrup as he puts on the waffles what is the difference if he has cake instead?
So I said sure! You can have cake for breakfast, but dude, DO NOT tell your mom or we will both be busted!
Hopefully, he'll remember the incident as something cool, and maybe, just maybe, he'll get up on time tomorrow morning! After all, childhood is still about making memories, right?

He Sees Dead Things

2009-10-26T19:23:00.000-04:00

I have been married for 10 years to a man that basically makes me crazy. Although he does have some good points, he is not one of those husbands that everyone else wishes they had. In fact, in the numerous times I have tried to give him away at parties no one has ever shown the slightest interest. Could that be why we never get invited anywhere anymore...nawwww. So Mr. Not-So-Wonderful has annoying habits, as most men do. (okay, women are annoying too, but today we are talking about men) The one that really gets me crazy is the pointing-out-dead-animals-on-the-side-of-the-road habit. First of all, why does anyone feel the need to point out dead things? I am an animal lover. I brake for squirrels, deer, rabbits, possum, turtles, dogs, cats, and I will try to miss those woolly caterpillars. He knows this. But yet he still finds it necessary, as we are driving down the road, to say things like, "ohhh, that's a bad one back there. Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"That deer. I think it was just a baby. It was really tore up."

Okay, explain to me why I would want to see, or hear, about a dead baby deer on the side of the road!!? It is at this point that I launch into my tirade.

"Why is it that whenever we drive down the road and you see dead things that you think that you have to tell me about them? I don't want to know about the dead animals! If you can't think of anything to say to me then for god's sake just shut up!" I then turn the radio up loud and proceed to sing; which is my way of covering my ears and repeating la-la-la-la-la while driving.

Coming back from feeding the horses yesterday I was commenting on the brilliant color of the leaves (it's fall here in Michigan) against the bright blue of the sky. The sun was shining, it was pleasantly warm. As we crested a hill he says to me, "Did you see that?"
I turned up the radio.