April 24, 2006

Dear Peruser,
Back from the land of computerlessness. The Husband takes over the computer on the weekends forcing me to go into my craft room and PLAY!!! The nerve of that man!
Did I tell you that he heard the voice the other night? I have told you about the voice, Haven't I? Every once in awhile there's this voice that calls my name. The first time I heard it, I recognised the voice of the guy who used to live across the street but the subsequent times I haven't recognised the voice. It isn't scarey or anything, it just demands to be noticed. So I usually sit up and say "What?" and that's the end of it. Well the Husband heard it and immediately thought something was wrong with me so he had to wake me to ask me if I was awake and needed to call him. I would have thought the fact that I was asleep would have given him the first clue but apparently not. When I brushed off the fact that it was just "the voice" his eyes bugged out and he got a bit pale. The muttered something about how I had said that the house wasn't haunted. it isn't. It's just the voice. I'm sure everyone has unexplained things that happen. It doesn't mean anything, it just is. So I suppose I won't tell him about the small whatever I saw out of the corner of my eye in the bathroom. My eye wasn't in the bathroom, the whatever was. I really must watch my grammar.
And speaking of small whatever, the Husband was talking to a would be client on the phone and saying how mortgge brokers are just trolling for clients. Now the man meant TRAWLING because trolling is chasing trolls around with a big butterfly net in order to capture them. What one would do with a wild troll I have no idea. The tame ones are a big enough pain.
Sorry Flight of fancy.
So I guess that's it from the funny farm. This time next week I'll have finished my first day at the petting farm that isn't. Native lands it's called and I get to paint faces. Maybe I ought to practise on Rocco first. Take care of yourself. Love ya. ---me---

April 21, I think

Dear Peruser,
I had one of my mammoth's sleep today, 19 hours THis happens to be every once in awhile but since it had also happened to me on Monday this is definitely something unusual. I guess it's good that I work for the husband. No having to call in sick. No doctor's note. No one calling and pestering me as to when I'll get back. In fact, the husband told me that each night while he's talking to God he asks God to take away some of my pain. Only I think things backfired because I don't remember life ever being this painful. Besides, I'm kind of used to the regular pain. So used that one morning when I awoke and nothing, absolutely nothing, hurt I had thought that I had died, until I had to scratch my nose and I moved. Yep, I was alive.
Rocco the wonder dog is starting to behave better... finally. The trick is to make sure that he spends hour out in the yard doing whatever it is that he does. I've watched him from the window and he reminds me of a little kid. He picks up a toy, runs around the yard, visits with the dogs behind us, staying firmly in his own yard thank goodness. hen when Little Dog Ollie joins him they go rummaging about in the bamboo forest in the back yard. Older son says they visit with William the ground hogzilla who lives in the forest. I have never seen a ground hog this large. He's bigger than little dog Ollie. So much bigger we could probably slap a saddle on him and Ollie could go for a ride. With as thick as the bamboo is we could have a whole herd of Williams back there and I would never know.
Rocco has also filled MUtley's shoes by becoming the yard dog helping the husband when he's picking up stcks and mowing the lawn. Even in his latter years Mutley would trudge along behind the Husband. Rocco tends to skip ahead, whirling and dancing. He even helped by breaking sticks with Michael, prancing off with branches longer than the cars. What a knucklehead that dog can be. I styill miss my MUtley. There will never be another like him.
I'm getting better with my collage. Well maybe not better. I'm making myself work at it more and while it's still difficult for me, I am making a few thinks I like. I think I put too much pressure on myself fussing over what theme it's going to be. Instead I bought a 4x6 hard covered sketch book and labeled it as whatever takes my fancy so I don't need a theme. Which is good. I have noticed that I tend to go toward weird looking people made with scraps of paper. As the husband once told me, It doesn't matter what it looks like as long as I've had a good time doing it. And I do, when I'm not sweating bullets over it.
I think this will be a short note, I have a sudden craving for biscuits for dinner. Love ya., ---me--

Let's try something new

Dear Peruser,
I've been unhappy with my blog. It just doesn't seem to flow and I find myself squeezing out the words as if they were coming from an empty tube of toothpaste. That's not me. That's not the way I write, so what the heck's been wrong with me?
I was writing in my paper journal today and then it came to me. I only write the best when I'm writing to someone. So I shall. I shall pretend I have a person receiving this letter and while I know I won't get a letter in return that has never stopped me before. My only regret is that I can't use my fountain pen or rubber stamp to decorate the page. Yeah yeah, I could learn how to attach pics to this but then that would mean that I would really have to learn how to use my digital camera which, by the way, has too many icons and too many things it can do. I just want to point and shoot and have a picture. Also, I'd have to make sure the house was clean because I'd probably want to capture the idiot thing, Rocco the wonder dog does and having ankle high dust and a christmas lamp post leaning drunkenly in a corner somehow diminishes Rocco's Rocconess.
So
here
goes

April 19, 2006

Dear Peruser,
Can you believe that April is half way over and I'm that much closer to my one week job at the petting farm only not? I had a dream about it last night. Only there were pigs in this dream. It gets me to thinking that I must have had a boring life up to this time if working with 800 pound pigs, who definitely were hired assassins this year, is the highlight of my days. It's not as if I've lived under a rock. There was the bank robbery, and the guy I knew who ended up as a mummy, and the guy I knew (not the same guy) who ended up as a ghost, the contests I won with hand stamped post cards, my blue ribbon at the state fair, the shenangans of the sons, and all that other stuff that zipped through my life. So why do I focus on pigs for goodness sakes? It is a thrill to birth piglets and I even impressed myself this year handling a piglet squirting blood without getting ruffled and escaping the boar's pen with only the smallest puncture in my thigh (can I help it if boars find me irresistable?) and hold off a 800 pound , red eyed, jaw clacking mama sow without a blink and even using her as an example as to why we don't let the kids into the pen. Working in the office full time with the husband I don't know if I'll be able to do the petting farm but since the petting farm only not is only 4 days, he can do without me for that long. Besides thje brochure for the petting farm only not (it's offical name is Native Lands) shows a Zebra. I've had my hands on my pigs, and goats and chickens and a kangaroo and a bison so a zebra is a good progression.
I suppose the petting farm obsession isn't all that weird. I've always loved animals and as a child refused to go to any movie if an animal was going to die. I even took my life in my hands when I admitted to my mother that if there was a fire in the house that I would save the dog first. I was 8 years old for god's sake and the dog looked like a hairy dachsund and was so low to the ground she would never be able to get herself outside. My mother was an adult, she should have been saving me. Funny the dog was femals but my mother was the bitch.
Oops, I've promised that I won't go there, Haven't I? Can't help it at times. She was my mother after all and I still feel the effects of her parenting. I also can't help but think that she 's rolling in her grave just thinking that her daughter is working with pigs.
I could keep on writing but the dishes are calling my name and they are getting rather insistant and then there is my underwear I have to find. I swear someone is taking them. All I could find to wear today was a pair of the husband tightie whities though I know I have a clean basket of clothes somewhere. Why can't I grow fur and then I wouldn't have to worry about clothes?
Well, till later, I will leave you with that image in your mind. Love ya. ---me---

Well whatta ya know

I was sitting at my desk today, in the office, paging through old Somerset Studios magazines hoping to get inspired and only half listening to what the Husband was saying while on the phone. Suddenly I hear him tell the person on the other end about his motorcycle accident that he had eons ago and how I had given him an ultimatum, either me or the bike. Then he says "thank God I made the right choice and got rid of the bike." Just about knocked me out of my chair. That came out of no where. Who woulda thought?

KInda scarey

I was reading someone else's blog where they had one of those goofy little tests that will tell you your alien name or whatever. Those are always kinda fun but they got me thinking about an ex-friend who used to pester me to death to read her live journal but it was so juvenile with all the dopey quizzes and her drooling over the 12 year old kid who played Harry Potter that I had to give it up.
I think I mentioned this ex-friend before.
She once called me a liar and that is something I do not forgive. I do not lie, have never lied and the supposed lie was over something so stupid it had me and anyone I told shaking their heads.

I wandered over to her site just to nosey around and discovered to my horror that now she is 'helping' people after taking some course over the internet. This is a 39 year old woman who thins a 12 year old was hot, who didn't leave water out for her dogs to drink, who, if I didn't know better I would have thought was 10 years old, a very naive 10 year old. And now, god help us all, she wants to help people change their lives. Just because she took a course over the internet.

I do have to hand it to her that the web site and the so called article attached speak highly of her but you can make your web site say anything about you that you wish. For instance I can claim that I have been elected the Queen of the Fairies and you can read about it in such and such a publication and then go and write the article myself.

She's not doing anything medical but sometimes screwing around in someone's head is even more dangerous. I don't care that sticks and stones can break your bones but words will never hurt you. That's a load of codswallop. Ex-friend called me a liar and it still rankles and no matter how old I get I know I'll never be pretty because my mother (who knew herself to be the most beautiful woman in the world) used to tell me that it was a shame I didn't look like her. Words hurt. Not only that they stick like glue...super glue.

As for ex-friend, I am resisting the urge to write her via her web site and tell her a few truths but I won't. Oh have I said that she changed her name. She took the first name from The Little Mermaid, her Middle name or perhaps its the first half of a hypenated last name is her dead dog's name. She did keep her married last name. Maybe some sense remains.

He still needs his mother

Yesterday younger son called at the butt crack of dawn (at least for him) asking for me and telling his dad that he was sick. The son not the husband. He wanted his mommy and when I got on the phone with him he told me he was sick: his nose hurt, his throat hurt and was mucusy, he had a headache, a fever and he wanted his mother. So, of course, being me, I went into over drive. I think I do my best stuff in overdrive. I brewed him a pot of apple cinnamon tea that I poured into a thermos and wiped the dust off the hot vaporizer. Then I hit the store and bought him one of everykind of medicine that he might need, from cough drops to eye drops and everything in between. At the grocery store I stocked him with jello, pudding, juices, soups and some frozen breakfasts. In our house, apple cinnamon tea, eggs and the hot vaporizer are the tried and true comforts of a sick kid. I also bought him a Weekly World News because I know he'd get bored and a Wooly Willie. WW is one of those bald guys with iron shavings inside and you use a magnet to move the shavings on Willy to give him hair or a mustache or, knowing younger son, ear or nose hair.
I dragged the Husband along with me mostly because I got the sense that he was feeling a little left out. The sons growing up and becoming men has been harder on him than on me and that is saying something. So off we went to younger son's in Baltimore City.
Younger son was laying there on the sofa wearing his Christmas robe and PJs and drinking out of the huge plastic brandy snifter I had bought him at Walmart last week. Younger son has always had a fascination with weird drinking glasses and I'm always trying to find him something he doesn't have. This snifter was bigger than a gold fish bowl. I had wondered what he'd do with it and now I know. He doesn't have to get up at all to refill his water.
But I digress. So there we are in his place and his roomate was still home cleaning the kitchen. Two young men living together and their place was cleaner than mine has ever been. I suck at housework. I was putting juices and sodas in the fridge and the roomate told me he kept asking younger son if he, the roomate, could make him tea or soup or something and younger son kept saying that his mother was going to take care of him. Awwww. Of course the son went right to his tea and then asked if I could make him one of the egg breakfasts and I did. I also filled the vaporizer for him. So see... Eggs, tea and hot steamy air, almost as if he were home... except home has never been as well kept as his place.