Happy New Year Everyone!

See you in a few more days.

Christmas Time Is Here

Ok everybody....This is it.

Mike drove to get my Sister and her boys in Seattle today as they were unable to get here any other way due to weather.

They will be here in an hour or so and then it's off to the holiday races for us!

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!!

Peace, joy, happiness and plenty of good food : )

Close Call

Mike hauls grocery's for Safeway.

He has always driven truck.

He started out driving log truck many years ago and now works for a company that offers good retirement and benefits.

He is the best truck driver in the whole world.

Seriously, he is.

Thursady night he left the yard around midnight and headed to Central Oregon in this terrible weather, but he is smart and safety minded, so I don't worry to much about him.

The only trouble he has is when other drivers don't bother to use the brains Jesus so generously gave them.

Like Friday morning.

He was driving down a two lane highway in blizzard like conditions just as it was turnung daylight.

He looked in his rear view mirror to see a small truck passing him half way up the length of his trailer.

He looked forward just in time to see another semi coming straight at them from the opposite direction.

Mike took one ditch and the other semi driver took the other ditch as the truck in the middle slammed on his brakes and went careening between them and down an embankment.

If it hadn't been for split second thinking on behalf of Mike and the other semi driver all three of them would have likely been dead.

The other driver called 911 as Mike ran down the embankment to help the man who had tried to pass. As he was helping him out of his beaten and battered pick-up, Mike asked the guy what the hell was he thinking.

His response.....

He couldn't see, so he thought it was safe to pass.

u n b e l i e v a b l e

Good Bye Port Charles....

Your not gonna believe this.

We don't get ABC anymore.

ABC and Dish Network couldn't come to an agreement cost wise, so we no longer get the network.

I am not even kidding.

Do you know what this means?

I can't watch my stories, that's what it means.

This is beyond an outrage, I'm an American citizen deprived of my right to watch daytime television and I don't even have a job!

Between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00pm yesterday one of the things I did to occupy my time was to make a batch of trailerpark toffee.

It's sort of like the prissy "english toffee" my sister makes, but not really.

You lay out a cookie sheet of saltines and pour the butter and brown sugar mix over them with some melted chocolate chips spread on top. Cool it in the garage for a few hours and WaLa... trailerpark toffee!

It's pretty tasty.

It snowed on and off all day yesterday with another "arctic front" forcasted for tomorrow.

Mike had another layover last night and should be home late tonight.

No news from Texas which is good news in Oregon.

Ciao'

He Said She Said

Well, it seems as though the "arctic front" has blown over. We have temperatures in the 30's again and everything is slowly thawing out.

That's all fine and well with me, although I didn't really mind the snow.

My sister from Montana arrived in Seattle today and after spending the weekend up there she and her boys will be here for the holiday. Her husband flys in Afghanistan and won't be able to make it home for Christmas this year. I'm sure it will be hard for her boys, but being entertained by crazy Aunt Marilyn and the critters hopefully won't be to bad.

It has been our (mike and I) mission this year to get Jack, Wyatt's Dad here for Christmas. He lives in Texas and is a real jerk-off, non child support paying, drunk'n, smokin', yellow eyed, foul mouthed jack-ass, but he is Wyatt's Dad and he hasn't seen him in over four years.

So, we invited him for the holiday.

Everything was all systems go until he called on Monday and said "they" would be leaving Friday.

"They" I said...

"We" he said.

Who is "we" I said.

His neighbor he said.

He's "golden" he said.

I said, I don't give a #*@%

Guests can't bring guests I said, especially not at Christmas.

He started crying and said he was calling Mike.

Go ahead I said.

He did.

Mike said what I said.

I don't think Jacks coming for Christmas.

This is a picture of Jack on our Last Christmas morning together in 2001.

Need I say more...

Do I really want to wake up to that again?

I think not.

We had the child's best interest at heart, but what the child doesn't know won't hurt him.

Mike has been working quite a bit this week thank Gawd.

We have to pay for that new m'r-f'n bulb for the t.v.

Turns out the life span of the bulb is calculated at four hours use per day.

Whatever, that t.v has been on pretty much fourteen plus hours a day since the day we got it.

I'm like a junkie on the crack when it comes to a 65' t.v. and now I have to cut back and watch all the unimportant stuff like infomercials and the news on regular t.v and save the big one for the good stuff like SpongeBob and soap operas.

I kind of feel bad when he's out working and I'm home watching t.v and eating snacks on the couch, but it times like that I just need to remember.....

If Mamma's happy, everybodys happy!

Holiday Misconception

My friend Becky thought Parson Brown was a color.

Brrrrrd Feeder

Brrrrr....

Well, it looks like Christmas vacation started early for Wyatt.
He was home the last three days of last week and it doesn't look to promising for the rest of this week because of weather.

That's fine, gives me someone to watch my daytime stories with.

GET THIS!

I went to turn on the t.v today and NO t.v.

The lamp burned out.

The t.v was purchased a year ago TODAY.

ARRGGH.

Oh, by the way... a new lamp is twohundredfreakingdollars.

Whatever.

Mike worked a layover last night and I have cold pork in the yard.

Pearls heat lamp burned out---I see some sort of weird cosmic connection with burned out bulbs here--- last night but she has lots of straw in her house, so she's just chilled not froze.

She's not crazy about the snow, It makes her toes cold.

Imagine if you will a very small large pig tip-toeing through the snow...

Anyway, Mike will be home before her bedtime and have her boudoir nice and toasty tonight.

Today is my niece's TWENTY FIRST birthday!

Happy Birthday Fahren : ) 

XoxoxoX

Do you know that when I was twenty one I had already been married and divorced twice and had a five year old.

Good Lord.

Let It Snow!

Exciting Story...

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing through the trees like a toothless blind date at a bogo before the early bird special.

I could feel someone watching me as I moved slowly across the dew dampened yard. I had to step lightly so as not to leave a trail. My size nines left a heavy impression in the stiff white grass, but if I wasn't careful I might as well have been leaving a path of lucky charms for that little leprechaun. 

By leprechaun, I don't mean he was Irish, I mean he was short with bad hair and a funny hat.

What led up to this you ask? Well, let me tell you a story.

A story you won't soon forget. Oh, you'll want to forget it alright, who wouldn't? The question is more who couldn't and that, that my dear friend would be me.

I'm the one who couldn't forget. Not even if I wanted to.

Sit back and let me tell you how it happened.

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing like a gust from the north up your Aunt Bertha's skirt. Oh, it wasn't pretty. It wasn't pretty at all.

It was as though someone was watching my every move as I sprinted across the driveway being careful not to trip over the neighbor child's entrapment's left laying about.

I never did care for that red headed pest as he always left pastries and toys in my path.

It didn't seem to matter how many times I confronted his mother, she never showed more concern than a drunken Irish Betty, and it wasn't just because her name was Betty. It was because she was short with bad hair and was usually drunk.

This story is starting to leave me squeamish, and I don't know if it's wise to continue this tale, so as the sky grows dark and the wind picks up, I think that it's best if I go. 

I'm sensing that someone is watching...

No News

Ok, so when my Sister, the one who turned forty six yesterday said to me, "you know, I don't really care for the way the blog looks. It isn't really you."
I realized it had been quite some time since I've been here.
That and the few concerned readers checking in on me (thank you few concerned readers.)

So I decided to do some Christmas decorating and say "hi" today.

You see, what happens is, nothing happens, I have nothing to report and I end up not even checking in.
Just like right now the only exciting thing I have to report is that I haven't been reporting.

Wendy and I are still not speaking.
Things have been slow for Mike at work, so he's home ALL the time and as you all know, he sucks the concentration and creativity out of me (in a loving drive you crazy suck the concentration and creativity out of you sort of way)
Wyatt was home most of the week with a pooping problem constipation. What is it with kids and dogs and constipation at our house? Is Wyatt sneaking kibble or do the dogs raid the fridge?
We put the tree up and decorated the house.
One sister stepped closer to fifty and the other one is battling frozen tundra in Montana.
We have DVR'd every Christmas special known to man.
Did you catch the finale of Boston Legal? The B E S T.
We are gearing up for snow and "arctic" weather conditions tonight.
My Mom bought a new old armoire and sold a car.
I've been fighting reeeeeeealy bad headaces.

Thats it.
My life.
You haven't missed much.

I'll make up something for my next post.
I Promise.

Budget Cuts

Since things are pretty tight around the TrailerParks farm this time of year, we decided one way we could save some cash would be some DIY canine care.

Just a reminder, we have three shih-tzu's and a border collie.

We have a very nice groomer in town who has always done a delightful job with the boys, we just figured...how hard could it be.
All I can say is this...
There will be NO trips to town for Gizmo for at LEAST three months.
Not even dark glasses and a hat would improve his look.

If we had a heart, we would take him in for a do-over at the dog parlor, but I'm to ashamed and also fearful that we would be turned in to some sort of secret government dog agency.
I'm picturing a kennel in the basement of our local court house overrun with dogs with bad haircuts and gingivitis.
A kindly woman who smells like bologna telling all the misfit dogs it doesn't matter what they look like on the outside, it's who they are on the inside that counts.

So, the following is a Public Service Announcement.
Support your local dog groomer.

Gettin' Ready

Well, except for our tree, I put out all the holiday knick knack crap last night. 

It all looks so good and makes me so happy.

And, then I look around and think about Wendy and cry.

Oh well, no present for her this year, that should shorten up the gift list and save us a few bucks.

I just hope she stays warm and dry in her refrigerator box eating spam.

Thanksgiving was okeydokey.

Not the best, but not quite the worst either.

It was my first Thanksgiving in this house without my Grammy OR my Grampy, throw in the fact that my Dad has been dead for seven years AND it was my first holiday without Stinky the lush.

Needless to say I didn't bother with the good dishes.

Hot food with a holiday theme was enough.

Heres a funny story and I'll try to keep it short.

My Dads last Thanksgiving he was pretty grouchy.

The chemo, the aches and pains and depression took quite a toll on him.

That morning I had been busy cooking and getting ready with Wyatt and a dog or two underfoot (in my single wide) and was multi-tasking by laundering all the bedding.

I had decided to wash the pillows as Wy had a tendency to chew and spew on them, not taking into consideration that twenty year old goose down pillows may not "weather" a second hand twenty year old washer.

Imagine if you will, twenty minutes passing, a horrendous off balance thumping, and feathers 

e v e r y w h e r e ......

It was a sight that brings tears to my eyes to this day.

In a single wide, the washer and dryer are usually in the hall with the back door directly across from the appliances.

I started throwin' feathers out that door into the backyard as fast as I could, but the more I threw the worse it got.

There were feathers in the hall, feathers on me, feathers on the baby, feathers on the wall. 

Feathers in the grass, feathers on the deck, feathers on the dog, I was in feathers up to my ASS.

As dinner was cooking and the baby was crying and I was cleaning feathers out of the washing machine, my Dad pulled in the driveway.

He walked in the door, took an assessment of my situation, shook his head and said....

"What the hell are you doing... You don't have to wash the Gaw dammd thing before you cook it."

About that time, Wyatt took off his diaper, peed in the potted plat, I started crying  and someone kicked the dog.

GAME ON!

The holidays were off to a grand start!

Just So You Know...

Tom enjoyed the Holiday!

Turkey and Tears

All righty.
So.
Today is the day before the day that my daughter won't be sitting at our Thanksgiving table.
This will be a first for me.

I'm starting to think that I'm not so good at this part of being a Mother.

The thinking part.
The holding it together for the rest of the family part.

I'm really good at the crying part though.

Here's a little sample about what a sicko I am.
I look at Wyatt and cry because he's related to Wendy.
I look at Pooter (the dog) and cry because I remember Wendy playing with him when he was a puppy.
The list goes on.

I'm not going to post tomorrow so here's this...
I am thankful for so many things in my life.
Everything actually.
I am so blessed with good health, good friends and the fact that there is nothing (besides the obvious) that I need or want to make me happy.


This is what I am thankful for the most  (including the few not featured)

Maybe you could do me a favor tomorrow when you sit down with the ones you love.

If you could just say a quiet word to Jesus and remind him that Wendy's not with her family, maybe he'll shine a little light of his own on her.

That would mean a lot to me.

Happy Thanksging.

Do I Really Sound Like that??

I think the camera was shaking because of the whole quiting smoking thing.

Either that or I just suck at filming pigs in the wild.



The quality is poor, but the pig is cute.

Barnyard Boating

I figure this may be the best therapy for dealing with a rogue daughter.

Two goats in a boat.

If they fall overboard and can't swim (which as everyone knows, goats don't swim) Pearl and Barbara can run for help.

I choose to look at it this way...I have either completely lost my mind or I'm beginning to see some light again.

Oh, and did I tell you I quit smoking?

So, if I ever do emerge from my drunken daughter funk I will have put on enough extra tonnage that I will probably need to re-license the car as a stock carrier.

I lost The Game

The Game is very simple, it can be difficult to comprehend initially. A new player usually has to lose The Game once or twice to fully understand it.
Rules
1) When you think of The Game, you lose The Game.
2) When you lose The Game, you announce it to those around you.

Those are the only two rules of The Game.

Game play
The first thing a new player needs to know is that when someone loses The Game (i.e. when someone thinks about The Game), game play temporarily stops for that person and for those around that person (since he must announce his game-loss aloud). The Game then restarts on a person-by-person basis when each person stops thinking about The Game. The Game never actually ends permanently.

No one wins!
No one can ever technically win The Game. It could be argued that when one is not losing The Game (i.e. when someone is not thinking about The Game), they are winning The Game, but it still holds true that no one can ever definitively win The Game.

You probably still don't understand The Game and how to play, so consider the example below.

Example
You have just learned the rules of The Game and how to play. Because you now know this, you are playing The Game, and will be playing The Game for the rest of your life. At this moment in time you are thinking about The Game, so you are losing The Game. Let's say you leave this site, start doing something else, and The Game leaves your mind. But then you start thinking about this site again and therefore you start thinking about The Game... that's a loss of The Game!

Keep in mind that it doesn't matter what makes you think of The Game. Usually it is something completely random and unrelated to The Game that all of a sudden reminds you of The Game. This is what makes it so interesting and fun! If you have a game-loss story you'd like to share, do so in the stories section!

The bottom line
Any time you aren't thinking about The Game and then start thinking about The Game, you lose The Game. It's that simple.

IlostTheGame.org

Enjoy The Game!

Just For Fun

Thanks Michelle : )

It doesn't feel like things are getting any better.

How can this be?

Do you think things are hard for Wendy too, or do you think she just doesn't care?

Wyatt passed out on the toilet yesterday.

Mike heard a big thud and went to the door and knocked.

No response.

He opened the door and there was Wy on the floor with a bloody lip.

He said he was pushing to hard and must have forgot to breathe.

Mike thinks Wy may be lactose intolerant.

Anyone know anything about that?

Does it make you constipated and absent minded towards breathing?

I wonder what the deal is with being constipated around here.

Remember a month or so ago when I thought Gizmo had a stroke but it turned out he was constipated?

Maybe Gizmo's lactose intolerant too.

We let Pearl out of her playpen and into the barnyard yesterday.

It's official, she's a real pig now.

If she were a Native American pig her name would be "Runs With Ducks".

She's having loads of fun frolicking with the flock (and the goats)

Yesterday was the worst birthday of Mikes life. 

Worst celebratory day of his whole life secondary only to the Fathers day I forgot two years ago.

I didn't forget his birthday yesterday, I just didn't care.

Isn't that HORRIBLE.

I suck at multitasking stress and despair.

I should have been able to suck it up long enough to honor the day of my husbands birth, but I couldn't.

I spent the entire day in my extremely uncomfortable emotional coma eating crackers and watching CNN.

The election is over and Wendy is gone.

I have to deal with this.

Oh my Gawd.

Do you see how I roll?

I was telling you about how I flaked out on my spouses birthday and go right back to talking about myself.

I'll have to plan a surprise birthday for him in April to make things right.

I hope he doesn't read this, I'd hate to ruin the surprise, although odds are I'll have forgotten all about it come April.

Remind me of this plan in five months would you...

I wasn't really fishin'.

Ten months ago my 24 year old daughter made  a heartfelt confession to our family.

She was an alcoholic.

She had received a DUI and her drinking and her life was out of control.

When we moved to Oregon in 2006 to care for my Grandparents she stayed in Washington and entered into a downward spiral with alcohol, but did an excellent job of keeping it from us.

She had done time in jail and led me to believe the reason she hadn't called or been in contact for over a week, was because she had lost her cell phone.

I believed her.

When she reached out to family last January her life was so out of control it scared us all, and the part that was most frightening was that none of us had a clue.

She wanted to get sober and believed with the love and support of her family she could do it.

Mike went to Washington, packed her up and moved her down and she settled into the little house next door.

She got a job, she went to treatment and things were looking up

But, as you know if you have been a reader for the last month or so, Wendy has a new boyfriend that I don't approve of and it has put quite a strain on our relationship.

She has all but moved out of her little house here on the farm to stay with "Bob" and his parents.

Last Saturday morning at 7:00 am I received a call from her boss asking if she was here. She hadn't shown up for work and there had been no call.

I assumed she had over slept and decided to give her an hour.

I called back at 8:00 and still no word from Wendy.

I loaded Wyatt up in the car and drove to town. Wyatt had been to "Bobs" once and thought he may be able to remember where he lived.

He got us to the neighborhood and in time we found the house.

We found Wendy at 9:00a still drunk from the night before and when I explained to her that she had more than likely lost her job she didn't care.

She told me she was an adult and she was in love and I couldn't tell her what to do.

It seems over the last six days I have lost my daughter.

I look in her eyes and all I see is a lost soul.

We are practicing tough love, but honest to God I'm not sure who it's tougher on. The person overtaken by alcohol living within their own denial that everything is fine, or the people that love them trying to keep together the pieces of a breaking heart.

I will start attending Al-Anon and doing what I can to cling to some kind of normalcy at home, but for now, I feel like I'm losing not just my daughter but my mind as well.

I will not be blogging until some more numbness sets in, because the only thing on my mind right now is the insanity of our life.

Peas Out

M

Be back soon...

My Wy

Does it make me a bad person to want to home school Wy?

It's not that I think I can do a better job than the teachers, as a matter of fact I don't think I would do a very good job at all.

It's just that I like having him around and I know there will come a time soon when I don't really care for him like Wendy and he'll start to smell funny, so I want to enjoy every minute of him while he's wonderful.

I suppose that's not the best idea though because when he does become a pain in the ass it would be even worse if he was a stinky uneducated ignorant pain in the ass.

Maybe I should go back to school with him.

Since I quit school when I was about his age, it wouldn't hurt to go back for a refresher.

We could spend recess and lunch together.

Then again, maybe I should just get a life.

Oh well, he's mine until Monday.

If I have a monument in this world, it is my son.
-- Maya Angelou

Growing Pains

Wyatt has been having growing pains for the last month or so and I haven't thought much about it.

When he woke up Monday morning he couldn't walk down the stairs.

He. Could. Not. Walk. 

I freaked out, (imagine that) figured he had polio and immediately started mentally fitting him for a metal brace.

After I had him sized up I cracked the phone book in search of a pediatrician.

Wyatt has never been to the doctor.

Well yes he has, but the last time was for his well baby check.

I always took him to the health department across from where I worked downtown for his immunizations, and he's never been sick, so he never had a reason to see a doctor.

If we were still in Washington I would just call his baby doctor, Dr.Les, (isn't that funny, we went from Dr Les to doctorless) but now we're in Oregon, so who do I call...

I find out that the Oregon's Children Hospital has an office in the same building as my shoulder doctor, since I know where that is, thats where we're going.

So I call.

I asked the lady if they were taking new patients.

She asked me if we had insurance.

I said yes.

She asked what kind.

I said Teamsters.

She said a doctor could see us at 1:00.

I wonder what time during the month of never we would have been able to see the doctor if we didn't have insurance.

The good news is, Wyatt does not have polio and will not be needing a metal brace.

He has planters faciitis and will be wearing orthodics.

The tendon between the ball of his foot and his heel is to short because his arch is to high and he's growing to fast.

So he's home from school this week and we're keeping his foot wrapped with sport tape and he's popping ibuprofen every four hours and things seem to be looking up.

Wendy brought her boyfriend over last week.

I don't think he was drunk the first time I met him, I think he's just "short bus."

How do you tell the difference between chemically and mentally impaired?

Anywho, thats all that's new with me.

The Day After

A M A Z I N G.

Last night, I witnessed history.
It was an overwhelming experience that has changed the way I view my country.

I think John McCain gave the finest speech of his entire campaign.
He was calm, honorable and sincere, and I feel that is the true John McCain.
I admire him very much.

Last night I cried.
It was a cry that washed over me and took me by surprise.

We are the lucky ones.
To live in a time that will forever be remembered.

Big Day

Ok, if anybody needs me today I'll be laid out on the couch watching the returns come in jacked up on Mt.Dew and Pop-Tarts.
If I'm not suffering from an election hangover I'll be back tomorrow.

Go Team!

hmmmmm.....

I wonder if Mr Parks ever feels like this....

Happy Halloween!

To Ewe and Ewe and Ewe!

Reliving The Past

I swear, I must have the dullest life in the universe.

I talk about dogs, donkeys, family and food.

Usually this time of year I would be crafting for the holidays and have all kinds of projects to talk about.

Crochet, rag rugging or some other white trash craft I have thought up, but this year, I got nothin.

I have been reading a little bit but nothing exciting like the twilight series, just used books that I pick up at the GoodWill that by now are years out of favor.

See, that's how boring I am, I don't even read new books.

So here's the shocking part of this scenario.

I love my life.

I dig dull.

For so many years everything was action packed with work, kids and husbands and now things move pretty slow with the same familiar spouse, one child at home, dogs, donkeys and other barnyard fodder.

I can't think of anything else I would rather be doing, and although we may be cash impaired, I feel as though I am truly life rich.

I was thinking last night while I was lying awake considering the pros and cons of amputating my right arm about what an interesting life I've had, and tossed around the idea of sharing some stories, but I have to wonder if anyone really wants to walk down memory lane with a trailerpark princess.

Here are some possible tittles of future posts...

Can I wear my wedding dress to the Prom?

Dating after divorce. Advice from an expert.

Children raising children. Beat the high cost of daycare by spacing out your children.

Double your fun in a double-wide.

Obviously these are just a few, I could go on for days but I won't.

What do you think?

Dinner For One

I just got home from Wyatts's citizen of the month awards ceremony.

Ahhh, it is a proud moment in a mothers life.

Wendy came to pick me up and we drove there together and then after dropping me at home, she and Wy continued on to town to to catch High School Musical 3 and then dinner out.

So.

Do you know what that means????

That means I am h o m e a l o n e.

Thats right ladies, it's just me and the dogs in this big ol' quiet house.

Mike is at work until at least ten and Wen and Wy won't be home till' after eight.

I will eat ice cream for dinner and let the dogs wash the bowl.

I will drink milk from the jug and lick peanut butter from my fingertips.

I will take a shower and walk naked down the hall.

I can do anything I want because I am ALONE and what I say goes.

I gotta go, I'm wasting precious time.

See ya tomorrow!

Let Me bestow This Upon You

Look what Zanders Mom gave to me today!

She and that kid of hers TOTALLY rock my blogging world : )

I love reading her posts every day and share in her excitement about Mothering a boy and the world that's going on around us.

                                                                  Here are the rules:

1. Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit This Post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

So here are the 5 blogs I would like to pass this on to:

Of course if I could pass it back to Z and Me I would but I can't, but please note the sentiment is there.

1. MamaHut, because I'm jealous of her alpacas and her husband.

Not that I don't dig my own spouse ALOT, but because her's is really hot.

Also because I think that we are sisters separated at birth (could be the marauding Gypsy's.)

Which in turn would make my attraction to her husband kind of dirty in a familial way.

2. MalfunctionJunction, I love her because the way she writes she makes me feel like I'm along for the "ride."

Also, because she throws fish at me.

3. J2B2, she makes me laugh so hard I have to worry about pee'ing in AND out of the hospital.

Honestly, I feel like she's my surgical cheer and support team and there hasn't been a post by her yet that hasn't left me "stitches."

Get it.... "stitches?"

4. Deb?, she is like my blog conscious. 

Even when I changed my background to the seasonal display of squash that you see here now, her voice was ringing in my ear saying, "Sybil...."

And last but not least....

5. Georgie! Thanks to Georgie for not only entertaining me and countless others every day, but also for arranging the Secret Santa Soiree! 

I A M S O E X C I T E D!

On a side note, and my wish is not to offend anyone, but I feel I must say this.

I hate Elizabeth Hasslebeck.

I realize that hate is a strong word and I would only use it if I mean it and I do.

I think she's dumb.

Election Views

It almost sounds to me as though John McCain is starting to campaign on the opposing parties ticket.

Mo' Money

I wish I could get a job.

I'm tired of always being broke.

I wonder if people with a lot of money appreciate having a lot of money.

I have worked since I was sixteen years old.

Worked hard, but I have never had to much money.

Mike works hard, but we never have to much money.

I wonder what you have to do to have to much money.

Let me think of someone who has to much money.

Oprah.

Oprah has enough money to give away AND go on vacation.

What does Oprah do?

Oprah talks to people.

I talk to people.

All day long.

Maybe I need to talk to more people.

I need to find more people to talk to before Christmas.

I need to get a camera crew and find more people to talk to by Christmas.

I should probably tweeze my eyebrows and wash my hair if I'm going to be talking to people.

I wonder how you raise a cash crop.

Or cash cows.

To bad there weren't cash chickens.

Or cash goats.

I'm going to go wash my hair and read the farmers Almanac.

Let me know if you have any ideas.

Blahhhhhhh Blah Blah

Slow news day here on the TrailerParks Farm.
Mike is driving log truck today because groceries are slow this week.
He'll drive log truck today and tomorrow and then back to groceries Friday, Saturday and Sunday.


Wyatt just got up for school and is watching Scooby Doo Werewolf for the one billionth time.
He decided he's going to be Slappy the haunted ventriloquist doll for Halloween.
Works for me, cheap and very little effort required on my part.

My arm hurts.

We put new heat lights in the goat/pig and chicken houses yesterday, it's been getting pretty chilly at night.

Nothing new with Wendy.

OH!

We watched Iron Man last night.

Sooo good.

My stomach hasn't done action flipps like that since the back seat of my Grammy's LTD on a winding road.

Sooooo.... Thats it for today.

I'll be back if Publishers Clearinghouse stops by or I happen to find out I was adopted from a roaming band of Gypsy's.

My Destiny

While I was jacked out of my mind on oxy, Jesus whispered in my ear and told me what my life's purpose was.

Besides being the wife of many and bearing two children.

Now I am going to share that purpose with you.

The TrailerParks Pumpkin Patch and Petting Zoo.

Imagine......

The front pasture filled with pumpkins to the right and plenty of free parking on the left.

A spiced cider stand that also offers seasonal gourds and cornstalks as well as treats for the critters at a mere .25 a bag.

Free pictures of your children available on the website if you agree to sign this release.

What do you think?

If it goes over well, we could plant Christmas trees up by the barn and tie reindeer horns on the livestalk.

Sell hot coco and Christmas tree branches.... what are they called?

Anyway, I know people buy them and you hang them on your door or put them on your mantle.

During Easter, we could have egg hunts and egg rolls featuring the actual chickens that made the eggs and we could tie rabbit ears to all the critters (except Carlos who grew his own) I'm telling you, the possibilities are endless....

Times up for today.

Times Up!

I went in for my first shoulder check today.

Doc said things were pretty ugly when he got inside and I am still at HIGH RISK  for dislocations and further problems.

He kept saying "chronic."

Whatever.

He then moved forward by telling me I would need to stay in my "immobilizer" until Thanksgiving.

With a stunned look I asked him if that meant it was a bad thing that I hadn't been wearing it for almost a week.

He shot me back the same stunned look and replied that yes, it was a bad thing.

I can have my arm out of the "immobilizer" for fifteen minutes TWICE a day.

T w i c e a d a y.

Do you know how hard it is to pull my underpants up over my fat right hip every time I go to the bathroom?

Do you know how hard it is to smoke AND drink coffee with an "immobilizer?"

Do you know how long it is until Thanksgiving?

Do you know that it takes me longer than fifteen minutes to blog and that means if I blog once a day it uses up my two fifteen minute breaks and eliminates shower time?

I have to go, I'm already on borrowed time.

HellllllOOOO

Ok, Mamahut talked softy and threatened me with a big stick that if I didn't get back here, she and J2B2 would take action.

I must say, all things considered, everything went pretty well.

It still hurts, they had to do more than anticipated, and I am to expect some loss of range of motion.

Thanks goes to my oldest  sister who is now referring to me as Marilyn McCain.

Anyhow, so long as the m'r f'r doesn't dislocate again I'll be happy.

I DID NOT PEE!

Thats what the nurses (who were THE BEST) told me anyway.

The pain meds either made me sick or itch so bad I thought I would lose my mind.

I still have bruises from all the scratching.

Needless to say I didn't take them very long.

K, thats all for today.

Thank you everyone for being so great : )

FYI:

No bra or underpants allowed in surgery

The Break Room

Ok everybody...

While I'm gone there's no reason for this place to just sit around empty.

I want you to feel free to come over here, hide from the boss or the kids, watch some videos or even just put your feet up and take a nap.

I have put together a potpourri of entertainment for your viewing pleasure.

I will be thinking about you all as I'm jacked out of my mind on narcotics for the next few days, but rest assured, as soon as I am capable of independent unattended thought and motion, I will make my way back to you.

So......

Heres a little Pearl. SO funny

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

Paul and Chevy

              Who can forget Luke and Laura's wedding?

          My FAVORITE feel good song, enjoy!

Peas Out

Ok everyone.

This is it.

Tomorrow is the day.

This is the last "live" post as I have auto posted a little something for you tomorrow.

If by some chance this turns out to be soap opera surgery and I die during the procedure, you guys can divvy up my blog roll, awards and photographs and take what you want.

If I don't die, I should be back in couple weeks.

Thats it.

I'm not going to say anything else because I don't want to cry.

What if I pee on the table under anesthesia.

Does that ever happen?

K, now I'm starting to cry and I don't know if it's because I'm afraid I'm going to pee on the table or I'm sad to say goodbye.

Both.

I'll miss talking to you guys every day and hearing all your stories, thoughts and adventures.

To bad you can't TiVO blogs and have them played back on audio.

Would that be BLiVO?

Ok, I'm going now.

Gawd it's always so hard to say good bye.

Remember in Terms of Endearment when Deborah Winger say's "pull away slow Flap" and he floors it.

I need somebody to floor it for me.

bye.

The Upper Half

It was not my intention to have this be lingerie week, but now it is.

So, today's topic is Brassieres

The most important thing about a bra is the fit.

I watch a lot of Bravo T.V and I know how crucial a proper fitting bra can be.

I am a little on the larger side, and because of that I do mail order bras.

The only place I've seen bras on the rack that fit me was Las Vegas.

So anyway, it's worth it for me to have the Mail Lady deliver my upper foundation garments as opposed to having one giant lumpy mega-breast and wire marks in my armpits from an ill fitting Wal-Mart bra.

My bras are of the four to five hook and shoulder pad variety.

That can make running them kind of tricky

I have to hook it up backwards and then do the spin around with a drop and tuck to get everything lined up right.

That's my going to town bra.

I also have sleeping bras and around the house bras.

What?

Like you didn't see that coming.

My sleeping bras are super soft, don't have any wires and are shiny and silky.

I would compare my sleeping bras to the ladies of the fifties wrapping their head in toilet paper and sleeping on satin pillow cases so as not to mess up their hairdo.

You don't want any drag while your sleeping.

Continued support, yet ease of movement.

My casual around the house bras are more structured like my town bras, but don't offer the same lift and separation.

Those town bras are expensive and I wouldn't want to waste them on feeding the chickens or walking the pig.

Often times though an old town bra will be demoted to an around the house bra.

It is very important that I mention, when my husband does laundry, he can properly identify each and every bra.

Unlike underpants, I don't have an issue with some people going braless.

If your breasts are comparable in size to those of a thirteen year old boy, you have a pass.

Any bigger than that, no pass.

                    *needless information*

1. My friend Lindy hooks up, steps into and pulls up her bra.

2. I have another friend who puts her bra on like a shirt, over her head.

3. None of the pictures featured are of me

Under Where?

Lets talk about underpants.

I have underpants OCD.

I have town underpants, home underpants and sleeping underpants.

For going to town, I like to have a firm control "slimming" low cut on the leg, high rise on the belly underpants to avoid the ever feared ass ate my underwear and stretch pants appearance.

For around the house I prefer a cotton high rise (two to three inches over my belly button) soft cotton, wide elastic type of underpants.

For sleeping, I favor the around the house type but one size larger to allow for comfortable easy movement while I sleep.

 *Always wear underpants to bed in case of fire*

I am a firm believer in old school undergarments.

A sturdy bra that should fit snugly three to four fingers above the elastic of your underpants.

I actually spend an unhealthy amount of time contemplating other peoples underpants.

Why would you bother wearing a thong and how come you can buy thong pantyliners?

Then theres these.

Why buy these when you can just wear your husbands underpants and save yourself a few bucks.

Ok, you knew I had to go here.

I don't want to, but if one is to discuss underpants in a public forum, one must also address the lack there of.

Please don't do it.

It makes me nervous even thinking about it.

If your inclined to go commando or even sitting here now bare down there, think of your Mother and go put on some underpants.

And The Winner Is...

              Showdown in St.Louis

Nary a word about who was better.

I think everybodys hair a make-up looked great.

I think they both showed courtesy and restraint.

And, I think my team is winning.

Thats all I have to say about that.

               Battle In Beavercreek

Wendy and I had our first sit down last night.

Much like our counterparts in St.Louis, we kept things controlled and courteous.

No gaffes, no laughs, but we're talking again.

And, my team seams to be winning.

Wyatt stayed home from school yesterday.

He has been really bent up over the whole Wendy situation, so when he launched into the 47 reasons he didn't want to go yesterday I stopped him around #7 and said "ok."

He shot me that concearned have you lost your mind did you just say ok look and asked me..

Ok what?

Ok you can stay home.

Today?

Yes, today.

Thats when he said it.

You know, those words we live for that make all the crap part of this job worthwhile.

Envision doves flying and angels singing........

"Your the best mom in the whole world. I love you."

I can assume he was right too, because I got new carpet in the lounge yesterday and worked things out with the neighbor Wendy.

All in all, it was a best mom in the world kind of day!

Political Pause

No blog today.

I am emotionally preparing for the train wreck debate tonight.

It should be interesting.

Pause for the Cause

My husband is pulling the plug until tomorrow afternoon.

We're getting NEW carpet in the lounge!!

So, he has to yard everything out of here so he can rip the stinky old carpet out and prep for Carlos the Carpet Man tomorrow.

That means Mac will have to sit on the kitchen table until the work is done.

Gotta go!

Never mind, as soon as the shaking and sweating set in he hooked me back up.
I just need to Google a few things and get some RSS in me and I'll be fine.

The List

As anyone who's been here through the summer knows, this has been a season of change.

We lost my Grampy in June and our lives have been shall I say "changed" ever since.

It started out with a barrage of family and friends, and after living in a sedentary space due to ill health on both of my Grammy and Grampy's behalf for the last two years, that was a huge shock to our family's lifestyle.

What had been soft voices and round the clock Judge Judy quickly turned into swimming pools and swinging doors.

What came next was DIY tasks around the farm.

Because of their health issues, my Grandparents had been unable to keep up with normal maintenance, and because of pride, didn't want anyone else doing it for them.

We have taken out forty some trees of varying shape and size.

Let there be light!

We have re-seeded the lawns, pulled weeds, restored flower beds, mended fences, hung gates, moved rock and pruned back years worth of overgrown landscaping.

Inside, we have painted the kitchen, bedroom and utility room.

Rewired and hung new lighting in the kitchen, utility room, living room and bedrooms.

Cleaned and organized storage areas and the garage.

Repaired and or replaced plumbing in four bathrooms and the kitchen.

But here's my favorite part...

Craigslist.

I could spend an entire afternoon walking you around the farm naming off everything that came from "The List," but I won't.

What I will do is give you a sampling just from our most recent project.

                                           The Kitchen

Less than a year old, Frigidaire, white ceramic flat top range. $150.00

Kohler cast iron enamel coated double sink with pull out spray handle faucet. $70.00

White GE dishwasher. $50.00

New white range hood. Free (from the barn)

Three hanging 12 inch diameter white glass globe light fixtures. Free

New five blade Hampton Bay ceiling fan with four fancy lights. $15.00.

Other than new counters, I consider the kitchen redone and updated, including safe new electrical and plumbing

All for less than $300.00.

Beat that Bitches!!

Can you even believe it?

Doesn't this also qualify me as being "green" because we kept all of the above out of landfills?

I think so.

I gotta go... I think Al Gore is calling.

Breaking News...

She's still not speaking to me, but I just got home from town and found she commented on my Myspace while I was gone...

"I LOVE MY PAGE ...UR THE BEST! AND THE NEW PIC IS DEF ME UR SOOO GOOD!"

Trust me, I'm in trouble.

Family Ties

Well, it was Kate that was shot, and unfortunately it appears as though she is going to pull through.
The up side is that her cousin Olivia has spilled the beans that Kate is really Connie from the block and they share some big secret she's a tranny.

In other news.

My new shoulder doctor squoze me in for an appointment yesterday afternoon.

I really like him.

I think he's about fifteen years old, I doubt he shaves and his mother probably drives him to work, but I really like him.

You should have seen him blush when he saw the tattoo on my right shoulder that says 'Dave's Babe" (third husband).

Obviously his name is Dave and I guess he's never seen his name in lights before.

So my new surgery date is October ninth.

Or maybe it's the tenth...

As Sarah Palin says, "I'll get back to ya on that."

Wendy and I are still not speaking.

I upped the ante last night and applied a rainbow background to her MySpace page with a caption that reads, "Coming Out."

The way I see it, an aggressive maneuver like that will either cure our relationship or kill it.

I for one hope we can heal the pain through laughter.

In Addition to Morning Update

Sonny and kate from general Hospital...

And, here's the picture that is currently adorning Wens MySpace

No News Here...

Hmmmm.... 

What should we talk about today?

Deb is part of a bloggy book club, but it's to early in the season for me to be reading so I don't have a gripping new novel to discuss.

J2B2 and Amelia Bedelia had a surprise sister soiree this weekend, but my sisters we're both home flogged with familial chores, so no story there.

I already told you about my Facebook encounter, I don't need to beat that one to death.

I got new appliances over the weekend!

Well, not exactly new, but new to me.

A shiny white dishwasher and flat top range : )

Super pretty and goes well with my new sink and faucet.

The neighbor (thats how I will refer to Wendy from now on when I'm disgruntled with her) and I are not on speaking terms as of yesterday.

Nothing big, as usual she's dumb and I'm the Mom and I know everything so I win.

Since we're not speaking, all I could do to have the upper hand in our dispute was to go into her MySpace account and change her profile picture to a hand sock puppet holding a dead fish in it's mouth.

It'll be a few day before she figures out what I've done.

It's the little things that bring a Mother joy.

Wyatt has been driving me nuts with his little boy BIG attitude phase.

To think I was naive enough to believe only thirteen year old girls held the license to heavy sigh and roll their eyes.

Thats it I guess

Just a whole lot a nothin.

Tune in tomorrow and we'll talk about who got shot at Kate and Sonny's wedding.

I hope it was Kate, I can't stand Kate, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't her.

Familiar Faces

Can I just say this...

I love the Internet.

I logged on to Facebook this afternoon to see what was new in the world of the hip and in-the-know people.

It's their world, I just visit there sometimes.

At the very bottom of the page it said, find people from "your school-your year."

Ok, I figured, I'll try this.

Oh my GAWD.

There were the faces of people I hadn't seen in years looking right. at. me.

The only thing different is they all looked just a smidge older.

I went to a really small school, I think the graduating class was around thirty people, so there were only five or six listed, but still, there they were!

Within minutes I had requests fired off to friends I hadn't spoke to in years, and it wasn't long before I had replies back from them.

a m a z i n g.

It didn't take long before the phone lines were on fire and I was talking to Shannon in Texas.

It just doesn't seem possible that so much time has passed and that her kids are half grown, or that I have one who claims to be full grown, or that we are even old enough to have kids at all.

Well, I've had Wendy all my life, so that's not quite true, but you get my drift.

What a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

OKOKOK!

Nobody liked the funky brown background so I went with a safe pre-made layout.

I promise to keep my fingers out of the background bucket for awhile.

How do you do I do?

Today, we're talking about love.

Not the love you have for your kids or your Grandmother and not the love you have for srapbooking or sex.

I'm talking about the way you love your Spouse.

I want to know about normal middle aged married people love.

Z's Mom, I want your opinion too, even though you're nuptually challenged. 

It could just be your better off to never have married than to have married to much.

My sisters are both middle aged and married, but they don't count.

The men they're married to aren't really husbands anymore, they're just family and can't be part of my study

I'm worried because I don't have soap opera passion, but I'm relieved that I don't have Lifetime movie stress.

I'm happy spending time together, but just as happy to see him leave for work.

We don't laugh together because he's not funny, so I just laugh at him.

Sometimes I think our marriage is like peanut butter and jelly.

Goes good together but boring.

We hardly ever argue and we have the same goals.

My happiness.

JUST KIDDING.

I want him to be happy most of the time too.

I definitely feel he gives more in our marriage.

Is that ok?

I am not in any way high maintenance or demanding, just weird.

I guess what all this boils down to is I like this Husband and I want to make sure I'm doing things right.

Got any ideas?

Medical Alert

Gizmo did not have a stroke!

He was constipated.

Two suppositories yesterday seemed to do the trick.

Thank you for all your well wishes.

Did you see the picture of Pooter and Pearl?!

They love each other.

Let me tell you something though, it's not easy putting a walkin' harness on a pig.

It was worth it though to see the two of them strolling around the yard together.

I don't know if Pooter loves her for her mind, or because she's made out of bacon.

I thought Wyatt was going to have a meltdown last night.

All last week he was telling me about open house at school.

Everyday I would ask to see the paper with the time and info.

Every time he would say, "Uh, yeah, Mom, I'm a fourth grader now, I know when open house is"

I rolled with it and he was wrong.

Not the part about being a fourth grader, the part about knowing IT ALL.

I had told him if he was wrong his consequence would be that we wouldn't wait around or go back at the right time.

"Whatever Mom, I know when open house is."

Last night was open house.

We got there at 6:00 and it started at 7:00.

Wyatt cried all the way home.

Happy Birthday J2B2!

Thats all I got.

Pooter and Pearl

"Sink" Your Teeth Into This..

Mike and I have been talking about replacing the faucet in the kitchen sink.

It's been there since the house was built and starting to show it's age through spots and leaks.

Mike stopped on his way home yesterday to pick up one up, but came in empty handed.

They wanted close to $100.00 for a cheapo one.

Whatever.

I told him to  sit back and watch me do my magic....

I logged on to Craigslist and within five minutes found a cast iron enamel coated double Kohler sink with an uptown faucet on it!

SCORE!

For seventy dollars (less than the cost of a new faucet) we have a beautiful new sink with a fancy faucet.

Sometimes I amaze even myself.

Gizmo isn't doing so well today.

I think he had a stroke yesterday and has been having a hard time, wandering around bumping in to things and  very lethargic.

I am really worried about him, but I'm not going to take him to the vet.

I have read up on doggy strokes and there isn't anything that can be done for him, so I'll just love him and hold him and maybe teach Bart to be his service dog.

I wonder if that means Gizmo could get into a nice restaurant or acquire a better parking spot at the market..

If he has medical reason and a service dog he should get all the perks that go with it.

Wendy and I made up.

We had a roast for dinner.

GET THIS!

I received a message from my shoulder doctor yesterday saying there has been a "family emergency" and my surgery scheduled for October 6th has been moved to October 26.

This is so wrong in so many ways that I'm not even going to go bother listing the reasons.

I will call this morning and cancel and then get on the stick to find another doctor.

I got a postcard yesterday!

From the Farmers Wife who has been on vacation and sent greetings to all her fans who left their address for said correspondence.

I bet the mail lady thinks I'm cool and have friends who travel to all kinds of exotic places.

Last year I got a post card from my Sister while she was in Italy and now I get one from Arkansas, OH, and Wyatt got a package from Afghanistan where his uncle flys a mail plane.

I roll with some real movers and shakers.

Now, go check this out.. The Cutting Edge of Ordinary

Make sure you have already had breakfast because browsing here awhile will make you oober hungry and if your belly isn't full, you may find yourself licking the screen.

I'm not kidding, go have a Pop-Tart or something.

While your there, grab this and get your name in for a give-away!

Family Management

Wendy and I got in to it last night.
I'm not even going to tell you what is was about because I was right and she was wrong and I already know that.
I know that because I'm the Mom.
I have been the Mom for 24 years and not only I am a Mom, I know other Moms and I watch t.v.
We're an organized group us Mothers, kind of like the biggest Union in the world and when we combine forces with the "Wives" we're even stronger.
It used to be in our contract that in order to be a Mother you also had to be a wife, and then we realized we could have more members and be closer to our goal of world domination if we split.

Anyway, I hate it when she practices being all aldulty with me and tries using logic to prove her misplaced judgment and opinions
Remember, this is Wendy, so I let her roll with it for a minute just for entertainments sake, but in the end, every time I'm right and she thinks I'm dumb.
That lasts about two days and then she settles down and see's whatever it was that caused the dispute for what it really is and gets it..

This should make me happy and I guess after the two day waiting period it does, but in the meantime, it makes me crazy.
What is so freaking hard about bowing down to those with more experience and more brains.
Why can't she just say... "Well Mother, I see your point and as usual you are right, and I, am just a big dumb pain in the ass."

As I sit here writing this I can hear my Mother saying to me, "I told you so" and I know I was no peach to raise, but I didn't stick around and rub salt in the wounds either.

I didn't even wait the required amount of time for a drivers license or high school diploma before I left home.
I knew I knew way more than she ever would and instead of wasting her time and mine, I just set out to make my own way and it's been nothing but sunshine and bubbles ever since.
Ok, thats a lie, but it's my story and I'm trying to make a point


Because I'm the ringleader of this outfit, I can do what I want, and tonight, just to show Wendy who's boss, I'll make meatloaf for dinner.
Meatloaf and peas, and I'll serve her a big plate of it and make her eat at at least half.
It's to bad we all have to suffer, but we're a family, and family's stick together and I'm the Mom, and I can make them all eat meatloaf if I want.

It's in my contract.

I have Come To A Conclusion....

The hair on my legs makes me look tan from a distance.

Surprise!

Well, I'm sure you won't really be surprised, but this is an easier way to break the news to my family. I'm afraid they might think I'm crazy, but they won't give me that "Marilyn have you lost your mind" look in front of all of you.
We went to Safeway last night and got a baby potbellied pig :)
We didn't buy her at Safeway, well sort of, we met the family that we got her from on Craigslist at Safeway.
At night, in a dark parking lot.
Kind of like a Hillbilly drug deal and the drug of choice is livestock.

I can just see my family showing up at my door with a camera crew asking me about my livestock and then inviting me to a "family reunion" at some local hotel to do an intervention.

"Marilyn, we're all here because we love you" as the Kleenex box is passed around the room. "How long have you been addicted to livestock?"
"Well, it all started when I was about ten with just one little dog... from there it went to kittens, rabbits and rodents. Before I knew what was happening, it was birds and more dogs and fish."
Did you feel like you were losing control then Marilyn?"
"No, not until I moved to the Farm. I would start to feel kind of shaky driving by fields of goats, I would break out in a sweat whenever I saw miniature equine. Chick days at the feed store were my undoing, I had no control..."

Now, here I am with a white trash makeshift 2x4 and chicken wire "play-pen" in the garage for Pearl.

She's just a little pig, just one little pig.
And I swear, this is it, no more, I'm done.

Well, at least until spring when we start to see a return on last years poultry investment.
Just think, baby ducks, baby geese, baby turkeys, baby guinea hens, little baby chicks...
I gotta go, I'm starting to feel a little shaky.

Gossip and Lightbulbs

My friend Val started a blog awhile ago and I was SO excited.

We have been friends since the 4th grade, but live pretty far away from each other now and with busy lives and all, sometimes it's just hard to keep up.

So Val starts this blog and then gets a job and like that's more important or something, quits keeping up with her blog.

Whatever.

You can imagine how excited I was last night to see that she has not one, but two great new posts, so I headed right over and to my surprise, it was coverage of her ex-husbands wedding!

This was shaking out to be better than I thought.

Not only did I get to see a picture of her ex, and his new wife, there was more.

As I scrolled down, there was picture of someone else I knew...

It was my third and favorite ex-husband Dave!

All I can say is it's a good friend who sneaks in a casual picture of an ex for a friend.

So anyway, seeing those pictures was actually better than being there because I didn't have to do my hair or shave my legs and still got to see all the good stuff.

Ok, now I want to talk about light bulbs.

My Husband has become the Rain Man of light bulbs.

The Bubba Gump of interior lighting.

It is driving me c r a z y.

I don't know what started this irritating sudden fascination, all I know is I want to punch him in the face every time he refers to the wattage and type of any given fixture.

It goes something like this... H is for him and M is for me

H: Hey, did you notice anything different in the bathroom?

M: No

H: Well, I just installed two new 65 watt daylight bulbs in the fixture over the sink and two more in the ceiling fixture as well.

M: Great, thanks.

This is what I'm thinking. 

If I wanted to take a shower in glaring daylight and see every bit of fatty, cellulose, stretch marked, over extended, unsahved part of me,  I would take my showers at high noon on the deck.

Thank you, but I prefer the soft glow of a 60 watt K-Mart generic four for a dollar bulb.

I wonder if theres a twelve step program for illumination addiction...

This Old House

When I was born in 1968 I was brought home to the little house next door.

My Mother came to stay with my Grammy for some re-coup time while my

Dad was home getting ready with my sisters.

My Grammy and Grampy lived in the little house next door because my Grampy was building the "big house" that we live in now.

He was building it from a barn.

When they bought the property in the late sixty's there were plenty of building sites on the fifty some acres, but my Grampy being "green" before his time, decided to use what was already here.

A turkey barn.

You can well imagine what it must have looked like.

My Grampy told stories over the years about all the ropes that hung from the rafters where the turkeys would hang getting ready to meet their maker.

Not only did the ropes hang, but everything else that went in to making a barn a barn was here to deal with as well.

His friends thought he had lost his mind.

My Grammy may have thought so too.

Grampy worked days as a butcher in town, and every evening on his way home he would search out the backstreets and alleys for building materials

He was very frugal and built the house around what he found.

Lucky for him (and later us) they began tearing down an old hotel across from the market where he worked and every night he would bring home windows, doors, fixtures and whatever else he could get his hands on.

The insulation between the structure of the house and the siding is recycled ham foil from the butcher shop, and the foundation of the house is all rock that he moved himself and mixed with mortar.

Every piece of siding he cut from sheets of wood that he brought home from a tear down somewhere in town.

His friends shook their heads and called him crazy.

None of them really wanted to help a guy that they considered to be in over his head or just plain out of his mind.

So my Grampy did it.

By himself

He would always say it was a good thing they didn't have building inspectors out here back then, because he just did what "made sense." He measured everything and figured it out as he went along.

His favorite saying was, "I may be crazy, but I aint stupid"

What he built was the most beautiful house you have ever laid eyes on.

Out in the middle of what was once nowhere, stood the grandest house you could imagine.

Huge rooms with picture windows, bathrooms with marble counters and a kitchen to die for.

Growing up, I always believed my Grammy and Grampy lived in a palace.

But what it turned into was something not even my Grampy could have planned.

It turned into a house that holds our happiest memories.

It holds the memories of the love they shared with us and the lessons they taught us.

The excitement we had coming here as kids, and the excitement of our own children coming here and being welcomed by the same love and open arms.

The smell of Grammys cooking and Grampys barn clothes in the utility room.

Grammy saying, "My land, look at how much you've grown!" and my Grampy sitting in his favorite chair giving us the boo boo booboo, how do you do!

We moved here two and a half years ago to help the people who gave so much to us.

I feel privileged to have been able to spend two of the hardest years of their life and mine together. 

I remember the days that were so hard I didn't think we would make it even one more day, and maybe, that's how my Grampy felt building this house.

I hope that in the next forty years I will have the chance to share with my family, nieces and nephews and children and grandchildren and husbands and wives the love and the lessons that I learned here.

(This is my oldest sister Kelly thirty eight years ago!)

Peafowl Photos

Ok, we just arrived home from mission peacock pick-up.

It seems like we drove forever and when we came home it was faster to cut across into Washington and drive home on the freeway than it was to track the river back into Portland and then up the highway home.

I don't know if I can do justice to the place we got the peacocks.

Let me just say this.

I don't know what to say.

Honesty, I am thinking and I can't think what to say.

I swear to you there were at least fifty, if not a hundred turkeys of different age and sizes, ducks, chickens, peacocks, ponies, geese, pigs, dogs and donkeys.

Amazing.

And kinda stinky.

I know what your thinking...

Well Mrs Parks... that kind of sounds like your house.

Well, no it isn't like my house.

It would be like my house on crack.

Maybe my house if I was left to live alone with no supervision and could do what I want that would be my house, but as things are , defiantly not like my house.

She only had male pigs, so we didn't get one.

She said herself that they stink and hump alot.

I'll wait till' next spring and get a girl pig who's pretty and doesn't stink or hump.

So, we got the peacocks and hightailed it outa there.

They are to young to sex, so we don't know what we have.

Their box-o-chocolate peacocks, ya just don't know what your gonna get.

We do know their India Blue's, so if their males they will be fabulous and if their females they'll be funky.

That's all the more reason to continue reading the blog.

You won't last to long not knowing if our peacocks are fabulous or funky.

Since I was outside with the camera I took pictures of Nancy and the guineas too.

Here's Nancy


Here's the guineas



And last, but not least...
Either Peter or Pearl, one of our new peacock chicks!

Redheads and Peacocks

Oh Ma Gawd.

I woke up yesterday with a buggered up back.

I have no idea what I did, but it hurt so bad, it's like ... if the house were to have caught on fire, I would have just laid there and let it burn around me.

The first part of the morning I was all but on my hands and kness, but by mid afternoon I'd taken enough medication that I was able to walk, but looked like a crippled old drag queen.

I feel better today, but it makes me so mad that it hurts at all.

It's the end of summer and I have so much I want to get done outside and I don't even have a child around to pester me while I do it, and then I end up with all these aches and pains and bad bones and brains.

Whatever.

Ok, so yesterday while I was lying in my Craftmatic fully adjustable king size bed and flipping through the channels, I ended up on Kathy Griffin some kind of comedy hour.

I have never paid any attention to her  because I always thought she was just a loud mouth.

She is.

But, she is also very funny.

So funny.

She doesn't care who she says what about or how offensive it is, she just says it.

The part I thought was so funny about her though is that she talks about how these "big Named" people talk about her, and she's just fine with it.

When she was talking about Martha Stewart and Barbara Walters and how irritated they were with her, I almost wet my great big bed.

So, Kathy Griffin, my new favorite.

I found baby peacocks on Craigslist last night.

Ten dollars each.

I need to super sweet talk the spouse into getting some before they're gone.

It's not like he would ever tell me no, we just need to skip all the back and forth of letting him think he really has a say in it, and then in the end be a good husband and "give in."

We need to go straight to "if it's my idea, it's a good idea" now get your ass in the truck we're going to get some peacocks and maybe a pig.

Ok, he's awake now, I need to get to work.

Peas Out.