Saturday, November 10, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Yellow River by I.P. Freely
good GAWD what is wrong with me? this pup is like a newborn - cheese n rice!
briefly (cause i'm tired and want a nap) she has been named and renamed. she is now and forever lucy-lou (ok, i add in the lou part) and she is sweet. very sweet. but a pup and a young pup at that. a young stubborn pup named lucy-lou. did i mention she's sweet?
i know pups are easily excited and generally balls of energy following up with the sleep of the dead. this one is no exception, but add to that STUBBORN AS HELL. wow. good thing she's sweet. i know she's not stupid- girl learned to sit in 15 minutes - but she is absolutely C-L-U-E-L-E-S-S as to the potty training. she will play outside for an hour, come inside and pee. she pees anywhere. she doesn't try to hide it, she doesn't sniff out a spot like when she's outside. she just squats and pees - whenever, wherever. i yell at her to stop and she looks at me as if to say "yo, peeing here, be with ya in juuuuuuust a minute."
did i mention she farts and eats her own poop? sweet-sweet-sweetie-sweet.
oy.
briefly (cause i'm tired and want a nap) she has been named and renamed. she is now and forever lucy-lou (ok, i add in the lou part) and she is sweet. very sweet. but a pup and a young pup at that. a young stubborn pup named lucy-lou. did i mention she's sweet?
i know pups are easily excited and generally balls of energy following up with the sleep of the dead. this one is no exception, but add to that STUBBORN AS HELL. wow. good thing she's sweet. i know she's not stupid- girl learned to sit in 15 minutes - but she is absolutely C-L-U-E-L-E-S-S as to the potty training. she will play outside for an hour, come inside and pee. she pees anywhere. she doesn't try to hide it, she doesn't sniff out a spot like when she's outside. she just squats and pees - whenever, wherever. i yell at her to stop and she looks at me as if to say "yo, peeing here, be with ya in juuuuuuust a minute."
did i mention she farts and eats her own poop? sweet-sweet-sweetie-sweet.
oy.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
meet bella...
or maybe lola. could be lulu or maybe...the girl canna decide, they are all so cute, LOL! i will post more about the airport scene this afternoon - was so sweet and well, just sweet. the pup isn't nearly as sad as she looks - she came off of a farm in the boonies, she spent the last 24 hours away from her family packed in a travel crate and she was a bit unnerved by the time we got her out and about.
better pics tomorrow too.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
junkin'
last weekend i took the kids to isabella. sunday we planned on riding, but we had most of saturday open - so round about 8am, i took ms b and mr braden junkin'. lake isabella/south lake has a hit-or-miss swap meet every weekend when the weather is nice and they generally have a few yard sales dotted around town as well.
now i don't know about you, but d and i have checked out all of the so-called "swap meet/flea markets" around here and they all have the same stuff. the *cough* vendors go to the *cough* dollar store and bring it out to sell. mostly new, packaged stuff - cheeseball ostrich skin cowboy boots and new knock-off brand denims (wonderfully displayed on the biggest bubble-assed mannequins i have every seen - once dared d to come up behind one and rub on it...'nother story). tons of raiders stuff, tons of banners and humongous belt buckles and hats and flags and remote controlled cars and car seat covers. okay, i don't know what to call these "gatherings", but they are not flea marts, they are not swap meets. these people have ruined flea marts. what happened to the junk that peeps used to haul from their garages and set up for the day on rickety old wooden tables out in a dirt lot on a warm sunday afternoon? other people's junk is where i find my treasures.
which brings me back to the isabella/south lake swap meet. THIS is where the real flea markets can be found. little po-dunk, poor towns where everybody knows everybody and they sell you a cool antiqued old globe for $2 and glasses to put votive candles in for $.10 each. this is where i find a perfectly perfect embroidered gb packers hoody for $3. this is what i'm talkin bout. LOVE this stuff. love digging through boxes of $.50 paperbacks, love finding an old complete compilation of mark twain's essays for $1. i love buying a bag of peanuts for $.25 and wandering around looking at people's junk.
which brings me to why i started writing about this in the first place. on the way to the swap meet last weekend i'm all excited telling my kids about all the treasures we might find and i happen to mention that "i absolutely ADORE looking at other people's junk!" braden and brynn both look at each other and i swear at the same time they screamed "EEEEEEEEW! gross mom!" followed quickly by, "we're telling dale that you're looking at other people's junk...!"
what kind of little perverts have i created? seriously. they are
now i don't know about you, but d and i have checked out all of the so-called "swap meet/flea markets" around here and they all have the same stuff. the *cough* vendors go to the *cough* dollar store and bring it out to sell. mostly new, packaged stuff - cheeseball ostrich skin cowboy boots and new knock-off brand denims (wonderfully displayed on the biggest bubble-assed mannequins i have every seen - once dared d to come up behind one and rub on it...'nother story). tons of raiders stuff, tons of banners and humongous belt buckles and hats and flags and remote controlled cars and car seat covers. okay, i don't know what to call these "gatherings", but they are not flea marts, they are not swap meets. these people have ruined flea marts. what happened to the junk that peeps used to haul from their garages and set up for the day on rickety old wooden tables out in a dirt lot on a warm sunday afternoon? other people's junk is where i find my treasures.
which brings me back to the isabella/south lake swap meet. THIS is where the real flea markets can be found. little po-dunk, poor towns where everybody knows everybody and they sell you a cool antiqued old globe for $2 and glasses to put votive candles in for $.10 each. this is where i find a perfectly perfect embroidered gb packers hoody for $3. this is what i'm talkin bout. LOVE this stuff. love digging through boxes of $.50 paperbacks, love finding an old complete compilation of mark twain's essays for $1. i love buying a bag of peanuts for $.25 and wandering around looking at people's junk.
which brings me to why i started writing about this in the first place. on the way to the swap meet last weekend i'm all excited telling my kids about all the treasures we might find and i happen to mention that "i absolutely ADORE looking at other people's junk!" braden and brynn both look at each other and i swear at the same time they screamed "EEEEEEEEW! gross mom!" followed quickly by, "we're telling dale that you're looking at other people's junk...!"
what kind of little perverts have i created? seriously. they are
Saturday, October 6, 2007
thoughts of fall(ing)...
wowsers -what a loser. it's been a month since my last confess---er, post. not for a lack of interesting candid camera moments, mind you, just haven't had the time or the inclination to record them for some reason.
the weather is changing and it makes me happy. i want to be outside more when fall is here - love the cool breezes and the changing colors. been riding a bit lately too - mostly in the mojave desert - which is just as beautiful in the fall as in the spring, only in a different way, i guess. there will be trail closures soon due to mating/nesting birds which is cool, tons of other places to ride. i canna believe what an incredible total body workout it is to ride the quad for 7 hours - still gimping a bit from last sunday's ride. taking the kids out this weekend - haven't had all three out together since we got the 4th quad. should be fun to just take off and not have to share bikes (the girl currently doubles with dale or me -though she'll be ready for her own next summer, i'm sure)...i love to get them all outside together and being the loser parent that i am, i think i'll let them stay out of school next monday so we can ride all day sunday. the disneyland guy doesn't know it and i'm sure will have something to say about it - but whatever, funny how when he wants to keep them out it's all good.
the birds have been keeping me busy filling their feeders- little bastards are getting nice and fat. crap, and multiplying - the neighbor says it sounds like the rainforest over here in the evenings when they all perch in the trees and chat. i love watching them, but damn they are gonna eat me outta house and home. doesn't help when the buttmeister eats what falls on the ground either. guess he figgers if the birds want it, he should want it too...so he chases the ground feeders off and grazes on the fallen manna. what a dope - i found a nice crumbly pile of poop in the garage this morning. of course i looked at it (who can turn away without inspecting poop?) and noticed it was made up of mostly bird seed. seems to be plugging him up a bit, LOL what a doomas.
getting ready to make a mess of nanner bread...mmmmm. my body says i need to start storing fat now, less i find myself without adequate sustenance come the winter harshness. pffft - gotta listen, right?
i hope your fall brings you as much happiness as it does me. i know that the prospect of winter depresses lots of people, but it fills me with a real joy. fires, candles and red wine. slippers and big sweaters. dark, rainy days curled up watching old movies and football. comfort foods like soups, chicken pot pies and cobblers. ahhh, heaven.
oh yea...MY PACKERS, BABY!!! 4-0 WHOOP-WHOOP! serious favre crush going on here, love him, love his spirit and his love of the game
the weather is changing and it makes me happy. i want to be outside more when fall is here - love the cool breezes and the changing colors. been riding a bit lately too - mostly in the mojave desert - which is just as beautiful in the fall as in the spring, only in a different way, i guess. there will be trail closures soon due to mating/nesting birds which is cool, tons of other places to ride. i canna believe what an incredible total body workout it is to ride the quad for 7 hours - still gimping a bit from last sunday's ride. taking the kids out this weekend - haven't had all three out together since we got the 4th quad. should be fun to just take off and not have to share bikes (the girl currently doubles with dale or me -though she'll be ready for her own next summer, i'm sure)...i love to get them all outside together and being the loser parent that i am, i think i'll let them stay out of school next monday so we can ride all day sunday. the disneyland guy doesn't know it and i'm sure will have something to say about it - but whatever, funny how when he wants to keep them out it's all good.
the birds have been keeping me busy filling their feeders- little bastards are getting nice and fat. crap, and multiplying - the neighbor says it sounds like the rainforest over here in the evenings when they all perch in the trees and chat. i love watching them, but damn they are gonna eat me outta house and home. doesn't help when the buttmeister eats what falls on the ground either. guess he figgers if the birds want it, he should want it too...so he chases the ground feeders off and grazes on the fallen manna. what a dope - i found a nice crumbly pile of poop in the garage this morning. of course i looked at it (who can turn away without inspecting poop?) and noticed it was made up of mostly bird seed. seems to be plugging him up a bit, LOL what a doomas.
getting ready to make a mess of nanner bread...mmmmm. my body says i need to start storing fat now, less i find myself without adequate sustenance come the winter harshness. pffft - gotta listen, right?
i hope your fall brings you as much happiness as it does me. i know that the prospect of winter depresses lots of people, but it fills me with a real joy. fires, candles and red wine. slippers and big sweaters. dark, rainy days curled up watching old movies and football. comfort foods like soups, chicken pot pies and cobblers. ahhh, heaven.
oh yea...MY PACKERS, BABY!!! 4-0 WHOOP-WHOOP! serious favre crush going on here, love him, love his spirit and his love of the game
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
child abuse?
so you may not find this nearly as funny as i did...but the other day my girl calls me from school to tell me that she has destroyed yet another pair of shoes (this is two and it's the third week of school) and to ask me if i would bring her another pair. she's in the office waiting for me, could i please hurry?
so, i'm in the middle of doing maybe 7 things, but she needs me so i wrap up what i can, drop what i can't, dig around for some shoes and then some socks (not an easy task), head to the car maybe 7 minutes after she called me. i get to the school and can't find anywhere to park - what the hell, seriously? i'm a little bit stressed cause i'm late and don't want her to miss her lunch. i manage to park maybe two freakin blocks away and am making my way to the office as quickly as possible in the 107 degree heat...suffice it to say, i'm not a happy camper.
i get to the office and find her patiently waiting for me, she's reading a book and swinging her little legs back and forth from the chair. there is a little (albeit husky) boy sitting a couple of chairs down from her and she explains to me that he is waiting for his mom to bring him shoes too. weird huh? i have my keys in my right hand and her shoes, my purse and her socks in my left. i take the pair of socks in my right hand along with my keys and give them a good hard shake to break them free of each other (you know how you fold socks together? yea that.) as i flip the socks downward, somewhere in the depths of my brain i become aware of a yellow missile-type object flying through the air and it seems to be headed directly towards the little (albeit husky) boy. he suddenly yelps and grabs his eye with both hands and falls dramatically to the floor. as he is writing on the ground i realize that whatever the flying object was has hit him on the right eye as he was sitting there minding his own business, just waiting for his shoes.
i take a peek around the office and realize no one has seen this but my eagle-eyed, smartass daughter who promptly rolls her eyes at me and shouts "oh, way to go, mom." little snot. so, the boy gets up off the floor, still holding his eye and looks at me with pretty much a "what the hell was that for?" look on his face, bends down under his chair and retrieves my burt's bees lip balm that is usually held by a neoprene sleeve on my keyring. he walks it over to me and says, absolutely no shit, "ma'am, i think this is yours." huh...who is this ma'am you speak of and how in the hell did THAT get over there? apparently, when i flipped the socks, it launched and hit him square in the eye. what are the odds, seriously? his mom walked in not 2 minutes later and instead of explaining to her that i was responsible for her child's drippy red eye, i got the hell out of there before he could tell on me. my word against his baby - you'll never get me copper, see?
so, i'm in the middle of doing maybe 7 things, but she needs me so i wrap up what i can, drop what i can't, dig around for some shoes and then some socks (not an easy task), head to the car maybe 7 minutes after she called me. i get to the school and can't find anywhere to park - what the hell, seriously? i'm a little bit stressed cause i'm late and don't want her to miss her lunch. i manage to park maybe two freakin blocks away and am making my way to the office as quickly as possible in the 107 degree heat...suffice it to say, i'm not a happy camper.
i get to the office and find her patiently waiting for me, she's reading a book and swinging her little legs back and forth from the chair. there is a little (albeit husky) boy sitting a couple of chairs down from her and she explains to me that he is waiting for his mom to bring him shoes too. weird huh? i have my keys in my right hand and her shoes, my purse and her socks in my left. i take the pair of socks in my right hand along with my keys and give them a good hard shake to break them free of each other (you know how you fold socks together? yea that.) as i flip the socks downward, somewhere in the depths of my brain i become aware of a yellow missile-type object flying through the air and it seems to be headed directly towards the little (albeit husky) boy. he suddenly yelps and grabs his eye with both hands and falls dramatically to the floor. as he is writing on the ground i realize that whatever the flying object was has hit him on the right eye as he was sitting there minding his own business, just waiting for his shoes.
i take a peek around the office and realize no one has seen this but my eagle-eyed, smartass daughter who promptly rolls her eyes at me and shouts "oh, way to go, mom." little snot. so, the boy gets up off the floor, still holding his eye and looks at me with pretty much a "what the hell was that for?" look on his face, bends down under his chair and retrieves my burt's bees lip balm that is usually held by a neoprene sleeve on my keyring. he walks it over to me and says, absolutely no shit, "ma'am, i think this is yours." huh...who is this ma'am you speak of and how in the hell did THAT get over there? apparently, when i flipped the socks, it launched and hit him square in the eye. what are the odds, seriously? his mom walked in not 2 minutes later and instead of explaining to her that i was responsible for her child's drippy red eye, i got the hell out of there before he could tell on me. my word against his baby - you'll never get me copper, see?
Thursday, August 16, 2007
for the love of fresh air.
holy crap where the hell have i been?
i didn't realize it's been a couple of weeks since my last post. what a freakin slacker, LOL! bennett and i are chillin' at the lake this week while brynn and braden are enjoying knott's berry farm with their dad. all of us are heading for home tomorrow and will attempt to ready ourselves for the new school year that starts monday morning. gah.
the kids and i went camping at greenhorn last weekend and had a lot of fun, well...until it was time to break camp. that gets me crabby. plain and simple. we brought sutter down with us - she is still recovering from her surgery - and i'm thinking she won't be wanting to go home anytime soon. she loves it here. she chases lizards and bunyas. she watches the coyotes from a safe distance and seems to enjoy just roaming around. she is healing nicely and there is no sign of any new lumps. she got her first bath in about...oh, i dunno - 8 years...the other day. she was so filthy from camping, i had no choice. she is definitely being spoiled though, she slept in a tent with the kids up on the mountain, and here she is quite comfy indoors with a big ole comforter and her own fan. sheesh, even the dog has an easy life.
i wish i had tales of shawna-style camping to tell you. nothing incredibly funny happened, nor did i do anything particularly stupid. my girl did not bellow across the campground this year, wondering if i was ready to tie one on at 7am. no one put anyone else's eye out with flying woodchips and/or horseshoes. it was simply relaxing and beautiful. the weather up there (at appx 5500 feet) was absolutely gorgeous - around 83 while it was 100 down in the valley.
we didn't have any interesting visitors in the night, although we were awakened a couple of mornings by some seemingly pissed off chipmunks. oh and by the daily warming up of the meat-bee indy 500. we saw a gorgeous doe (a deer, a female deer) and her twins - spots and all, OMG they were adorable. they were very casually wandering through the backside of our camp in single file stopping to nibble flowers here and there - very peaceful and calm. we tried to follow the movements of a couple of combative squirrels up in the tree tops. they would squawk at each other and the take off running, leaping from tree to tree, knocking crap down all over everyone. only twice this year did they attempt the art of murder-by-pinecone...i'm happy to report that they missed both times, but they definitely managed to skeer the bejeebus outta me. these cones are probably a foot long, maybe 5 inches in diameter and they are green so they weigh a TON. drop that pup from a height of about 70 feet and they become dangerous little bombs. little furry bastards.
anyway, sorry i haven't posted, i still have stories to tell from my trip to the coast. ugh. hopefully i can transition back to the school-year routine easily enough and get back into a schedule of my own. i love the freedom of summertime, but look forward to the FOOTBALL and cooler weather that fall brings.
back soon.
i didn't realize it's been a couple of weeks since my last post. what a freakin slacker, LOL! bennett and i are chillin' at the lake this week while brynn and braden are enjoying knott's berry farm with their dad. all of us are heading for home tomorrow and will attempt to ready ourselves for the new school year that starts monday morning. gah.
the kids and i went camping at greenhorn last weekend and had a lot of fun, well...until it was time to break camp. that gets me crabby. plain and simple. we brought sutter down with us - she is still recovering from her surgery - and i'm thinking she won't be wanting to go home anytime soon. she loves it here. she chases lizards and bunyas. she watches the coyotes from a safe distance and seems to enjoy just roaming around. she is healing nicely and there is no sign of any new lumps. she got her first bath in about...oh, i dunno - 8 years...the other day. she was so filthy from camping, i had no choice. she is definitely being spoiled though, she slept in a tent with the kids up on the mountain, and here she is quite comfy indoors with a big ole comforter and her own fan. sheesh, even the dog has an easy life.
i wish i had tales of shawna-style camping to tell you. nothing incredibly funny happened, nor did i do anything particularly stupid. my girl did not bellow across the campground this year, wondering if i was ready to tie one on at 7am. no one put anyone else's eye out with flying woodchips and/or horseshoes. it was simply relaxing and beautiful. the weather up there (at appx 5500 feet) was absolutely gorgeous - around 83 while it was 100 down in the valley.
we didn't have any interesting visitors in the night, although we were awakened a couple of mornings by some seemingly pissed off chipmunks. oh and by the daily warming up of the meat-bee indy 500. we saw a gorgeous doe (a deer, a female deer) and her twins - spots and all, OMG they were adorable. they were very casually wandering through the backside of our camp in single file stopping to nibble flowers here and there - very peaceful and calm. we tried to follow the movements of a couple of combative squirrels up in the tree tops. they would squawk at each other and the take off running, leaping from tree to tree, knocking crap down all over everyone. only twice this year did they attempt the art of murder-by-pinecone...i'm happy to report that they missed both times, but they definitely managed to skeer the bejeebus outta me. these cones are probably a foot long, maybe 5 inches in diameter and they are green so they weigh a TON. drop that pup from a height of about 70 feet and they become dangerous little bombs. little furry bastards.
anyway, sorry i haven't posted, i still have stories to tell from my trip to the coast. ugh. hopefully i can transition back to the school-year routine easily enough and get back into a schedule of my own. i love the freedom of summertime, but look forward to the FOOTBALL and cooler weather that fall brings.
back soon.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
yeppers, i knew her when.
my friend Becky Fleck (i don't capitalize for just ANYone sistah!) has announced in the August issue of the PageMaps newsletter that she has teamed with memory makers and will be releasing her first book of maps at CHA anaheim in february 2008 - holy crap! titled Scrapbook PageMaps: Sketches for Creative Layouts, it is a dead ringer to kick the scrapbooking world's ASS! if you are a scrapper and haven't seen her work yet; a) how dare you call yourself a scrapper? and 2) get yer ass over there, cause you be missin out!
not only is she one of the coolest chicks i know and an amazing scrapbooker, she has an unmatched talent for sketching out some incredible layouts. as far as i can tell, her only major flaw is that she is a minnesota vikings "supporter" (get it, she's a jock strap...athletic supporter - yea, nevermind. but seriously, how can you call them fans?) and, shitsticks, i suppose i *must* mention that she just happens to do her best sketching when my beloved Green Bean Packers (notice the caps again? oh yea.) are losing (cripes chick, challenge yourself already.) so i'm taking some credit right here, right now - let it be publicly acknowledged that fleck owes her entire celebrity, fame and fortune to my boy brett. 'nuff said.
love ya fleck, and congratulations. it could not have happened to a snarkier chick!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
listen to your uncle dave
16 THINGS THAT IT TOOK ME OVER 50 YEARS TO LEARN:
by Dave Barry, Nationally Syndicated Columnist
1. Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.
2. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved and never will achieve its full potential, that word would be "meetings."
3. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."
4. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.
5. You should not confuse your career with your life.
6. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
7. Never lick a steak knife.
8. The most destructive force in the universe is gossip.
9. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight savings time.
10. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.
11. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age eleven.
12. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that, deep down inside, we ALL believe that we are above-average drivers.
13. A person who is nice to you but rude to a waiter is not a nice person (This is very important. Pay attention. It never fails.)
14. Your friends love you anyway.
15. Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.
16. Men are like fine wine. They start out as grapes, and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into some thing acceptable to have dinner with.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
ahahaaaa...whadda they know?!?
| You Are 48% Abnormal |
 You are at medium risk for being a psychopath. It is somewhat likely that you have no soul. You are at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at medium risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is somewhat likely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at high risk for having a social phobia. It is very likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer. |
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
oh beautiful, for spacious skies, with loud noise up above...
my poor dog. i don't remember when it started, but was very early on that i noticed her freaking out when she heard fireworks, thunder and/or gunshots.
when i say freaking out, i mean completely muy loco. she goes out of her mind. first she retreats to some far corner in the garage, but soon realizes she can still hear the pops. then she hangs out by the door to the house in the hopes that some weak, unsuspecting child will open it. when they (inevitably) do, she barrels past them at the speed of lightening, with the weight of a black bear and the determination of a killer whale to devour a penguin. there is no stopping her, even if you think you are prepared before opening the door. she forces her way in, panting ferociously, and races to a dark, hidden corner of the house. getting her out after that practically takes an act of God. i find her panting, shaking and making herself really really small. it is really pathetic and pulls every heart string i have. because she is such a good dog inside, she always gets to spend the night indoors on july 4th, on a stormy night or anytime some dickwad decides to shoot his stupid gun in the air. by morning she is fine and ready to go outside again. she greets dumbass---i mean buddy--- and teases him with her tales of being comfy and cool (or warm and dry) on braden's bed all night. he never understands - he's just happy there's a "new" dog in his yard again (yea. he's that stupid)
shortly after we moved into this house in november of 2001, the kids and i left for the thanskgiving holiday weekend to a relative's home 3 hours away. sutter was left in the care of the Dad, in her new backyard with plenty of room to play and explore. a storm came in a day later while the Dad was at work and the dog went absolutely ape-shit. she was in a strange yard, with no kids or nice Mom to comfort her when the thunder rolled in. i can't tell you exactly what happened; i can tell you that i came home three days later to a destroyed gate - when i say destroyed, i mean she managed to rip off the boards along the bottom of it in her desperation to get out; i came home to shredded moulding all along the outside of the back porch door - her nails repeatedly digging at it, trying to get in the house; i came home to a doorknob (yea, the metal-brass-round-outside kind of doorknob) with punctures in it from her teeth. she freakin' tried to open the door using her teeth - think she wanted in...? my poor old sweet sutter.
now, in anticipation of a storm or fireworks, i cancel any plans to be away from the house and let the old girl in early on. i figure each time i probably add a couple of years to her life in doing so and that's just fine with me.
when i say freaking out, i mean completely muy loco. she goes out of her mind. first she retreats to some far corner in the garage, but soon realizes she can still hear the pops. then she hangs out by the door to the house in the hopes that some weak, unsuspecting child will open it. when they (inevitably) do, she barrels past them at the speed of lightening, with the weight of a black bear and the determination of a killer whale to devour a penguin. there is no stopping her, even if you think you are prepared before opening the door. she forces her way in, panting ferociously, and races to a dark, hidden corner of the house. getting her out after that practically takes an act of God. i find her panting, shaking and making herself really really small. it is really pathetic and pulls every heart string i have. because she is such a good dog inside, she always gets to spend the night indoors on july 4th, on a stormy night or anytime some dickwad decides to shoot his stupid gun in the air. by morning she is fine and ready to go outside again. she greets dumbass---i mean buddy--- and teases him with her tales of being comfy and cool (or warm and dry) on braden's bed all night. he never understands - he's just happy there's a "new" dog in his yard again (yea. he's that stupid)
shortly after we moved into this house in november of 2001, the kids and i left for the thanskgiving holiday weekend to a relative's home 3 hours away. sutter was left in the care of the Dad, in her new backyard with plenty of room to play and explore. a storm came in a day later while the Dad was at work and the dog went absolutely ape-shit. she was in a strange yard, with no kids or nice Mom to comfort her when the thunder rolled in. i can't tell you exactly what happened; i can tell you that i came home three days later to a destroyed gate - when i say destroyed, i mean she managed to rip off the boards along the bottom of it in her desperation to get out; i came home to shredded moulding all along the outside of the back porch door - her nails repeatedly digging at it, trying to get in the house; i came home to a doorknob (yea, the metal-brass-round-outside kind of doorknob) with punctures in it from her teeth. she freakin' tried to open the door using her teeth - think she wanted in...? my poor old sweet sutter.
now, in anticipation of a storm or fireworks, i cancel any plans to be away from the house and let the old girl in early on. i figure each time i probably add a couple of years to her life in doing so and that's just fine with me.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
yup, right out the winder
i was soooo close. i had to be in the top 25 for that ever elusive MOTY award. but, sigh...that's gone now. on saturday i was drop kicked completely out of the running. i will attempt to tell you what happened, but please keep in mind - i love my kids madly. i would gladly throw, say...their dad, in front of a speeding truck to save any one of their little lives. but after reading this you will probably question the decision of God to give me the responsibility of raising these little creatures and someday putting them forth into this world on their own...to the story.
a special (oh jeez you don't even know the *half* of just how "special") friend was kind enough to ask me for my contribution to an upcoming national publication she is working on. big soup, no? so, for about a week or so, i've been working on whipping out something spectacular just for her. did i mention this was a very special project? did you see the words publication and national? for me - this project needed to be PERFECT. now, in typical shawna-fashion, i was scrambling at the last minute, but pleased with how everything was coming along. my deadline for mailing was monday, so it was imperative that i have everything done by saturday as i had plans for the rest of the weekend.
absolutely thrilled that i had finished up about mid-day on saturday, i was taking pictures of what i did and then planning on emailing the images to her. i placed my camera, along with the project (it was a total of three pieces) on the couch in the office and plopped down at my computer to whip these out and be done, TA-DAH! for a moment - no, just a split second - that creature in my brain that is so much smarter than i actually spoke aloud to me. i swear i heard the words, "now shawna, don't put this stuff on the couch, move it somewhere up high and safe". aw jeez, pipe down...i'm in a hurry and hell, the couch is RIGHT THERE for pete's sake...chillax, o' brilliant (but extremely paranoid) one that lives in my head.
ok...so. while busying myself with the computer and the farking PSE program, i vaguely noticed that someone had entered the room. on i surged with my quest, i was almost done, i could see the light at the end of the tunnel! typing, editing, reducing, enlarging, cropping, lightening - undeterred, i WAS the PSE queen. then i heard the words, "braden, i'd put down mom's camera if i was you".
nothing major really registered in those first 2 seconds, oh no big deal, braden is in here too - he loves my camera and i've taught him the basics of handling it. he's just gonna take a cuppla pics, no worries really - he's right behind me, what's the worst that can happen? he's right behind me. he's right there. he's just sitting on the cou--- O SHIT!
(to be perfectly honest, most of what happens next is a tad hazy, as i'm pretty sure i blacked out for a minute. bennett relayed the following to me, swearing it is God's honest truth and i should probably believe him, as unlikely as it is. he was right here and i was, apparently, busy sprouting horns and snakes out of my skull, whilst flames speweth forth from my moutheth.)
when the realization of what had possibly happened hit me, i remember spinning in my chair and seeing - the snapshot of it is forever in my mind - sections of all three cards splaying out from underneath various regions of braden's butt with everything all bowed down in the couch cushion from his weight. then, (and here's where it gets a bit sketchy) i'm almost sure that i gently suggested that he get his ample sized rear off of my precious perfect cards. bennett, however says i screamed "get the fuck offa those things - what are you, a freakin' MORON?!?!?" at the top of my lungs ( i would venture to say that the fact that ms b came running in from the complete opposite end of the house yelling "WHAT HAPPENED and did mom just drop the F-BOMB?!?" kinda backs up his story.)
i remember that braden's eyes got huge, and i remember thinking "he has absolutely no clue why i am screaming at him", before he leapt to his feet and dove for the door to the office; i heard his feet gain traction on the tile as he was running just AWAY. he said not one word on his way out. i remember looking over at bennett and seeing him leaning back in the other office chair silent with his eyes and mouth wide open. he looked at me and said, "wow." i then looked at the cards to see how badly they were destroyed (apparently this was just a smidge more important than the current condition of braden's shattered psyche) and looked back at bennett who, apparently still in shock, again simply said, "wow." the realization that i had just completely unloaded and scared the shit out of braden hit me and i once more looked over at mr-chock-full-of-words, who (with a seemingly new found love for my parenting skillz) said "wow. that was freakin' AWESOME!"
gulping and cringing i went to braden's room and there he was, curled up in a ball on his bed and completely buried under his comforter, petrified with no clue what he had done only that it must have been really BAD. i started begging for mercy, telling him i was so sorry, that there was no excuse for what i said, that i wasn't mad at him for not looking where he put his big butt - well, that *was* pretty dumb, but certainly didn't warrant the blast he got - that i was more mad that i didn't listen to the bitch in my head that thinks she knows everything. and - "OMG - can you EVER forgive me???", to which he replied, "mmmERRR!" (the his-feelers-are-hurt sound) and refused to come out from under the blankets.
fast forward to 3 days later. he is finally speaking to me again, having conditionally accepted my apology (it cost me a trip through the panda express drive thru - kid drives a hard bargain). the cards, having (amazingly) survived with simply a minor crease to the back side of one of them, were packaged up carefully this morning and mailed off to where they needed to be and everything is settled and peaceful once again.
...until 10 years down the road, when all three of my kids are in therapy remembering that one time that their lah-hoo-zer mom dropped the big effer over some stupid paper. ugh.
a special (oh jeez you don't even know the *half* of just how "special") friend was kind enough to ask me for my contribution to an upcoming national publication she is working on. big soup, no? so, for about a week or so, i've been working on whipping out something spectacular just for her. did i mention this was a very special project? did you see the words publication and national? for me - this project needed to be PERFECT. now, in typical shawna-fashion, i was scrambling at the last minute, but pleased with how everything was coming along. my deadline for mailing was monday, so it was imperative that i have everything done by saturday as i had plans for the rest of the weekend.
absolutely thrilled that i had finished up about mid-day on saturday, i was taking pictures of what i did and then planning on emailing the images to her. i placed my camera, along with the project (it was a total of three pieces) on the couch in the office and plopped down at my computer to whip these out and be done, TA-DAH! for a moment - no, just a split second - that creature in my brain that is so much smarter than i actually spoke aloud to me. i swear i heard the words, "now shawna, don't put this stuff on the couch, move it somewhere up high and safe". aw jeez, pipe down...i'm in a hurry and hell, the couch is RIGHT THERE for pete's sake...chillax, o' brilliant (but extremely paranoid) one that lives in my head.
ok...so. while busying myself with the computer and the farking PSE program, i vaguely noticed that someone had entered the room. on i surged with my quest, i was almost done, i could see the light at the end of the tunnel! typing, editing, reducing, enlarging, cropping, lightening - undeterred, i WAS the PSE queen. then i heard the words, "braden, i'd put down mom's camera if i was you".
nothing major really registered in those first 2 seconds, oh no big deal, braden is in here too - he loves my camera and i've taught him the basics of handling it. he's just gonna take a cuppla pics, no worries really - he's right behind me, what's the worst that can happen? he's right behind me. he's right there. he's just sitting on the cou--- O SHIT!
(to be perfectly honest, most of what happens next is a tad hazy, as i'm pretty sure i blacked out for a minute. bennett relayed the following to me, swearing it is God's honest truth and i should probably believe him, as unlikely as it is. he was right here and i was, apparently, busy sprouting horns and snakes out of my skull, whilst flames speweth forth from my moutheth.)
when the realization of what had possibly happened hit me, i remember spinning in my chair and seeing - the snapshot of it is forever in my mind - sections of all three cards splaying out from underneath various regions of braden's butt with everything all bowed down in the couch cushion from his weight. then, (and here's where it gets a bit sketchy) i'm almost sure that i gently suggested that he get his ample sized rear off of my precious perfect cards. bennett, however says i screamed "get the fuck offa those things - what are you, a freakin' MORON?!?!?" at the top of my lungs ( i would venture to say that the fact that ms b came running in from the complete opposite end of the house yelling "WHAT HAPPENED and did mom just drop the F-BOMB?!?" kinda backs up his story.)
i remember that braden's eyes got huge, and i remember thinking "he has absolutely no clue why i am screaming at him", before he leapt to his feet and dove for the door to the office; i heard his feet gain traction on the tile as he was running just AWAY. he said not one word on his way out. i remember looking over at bennett and seeing him leaning back in the other office chair silent with his eyes and mouth wide open. he looked at me and said, "wow." i then looked at the cards to see how badly they were destroyed (apparently this was just a smidge more important than the current condition of braden's shattered psyche) and looked back at bennett who, apparently still in shock, again simply said, "wow." the realization that i had just completely unloaded and scared the shit out of braden hit me and i once more looked over at mr-chock-full-of-words, who (with a seemingly new found love for my parenting skillz) said "wow. that was freakin' AWESOME!"
gulping and cringing i went to braden's room and there he was, curled up in a ball on his bed and completely buried under his comforter, petrified with no clue what he had done only that it must have been really BAD. i started begging for mercy, telling him i was so sorry, that there was no excuse for what i said, that i wasn't mad at him for not looking where he put his big butt - well, that *was* pretty dumb, but certainly didn't warrant the blast he got - that i was more mad that i didn't listen to the bitch in my head that thinks she knows everything. and - "OMG - can you EVER forgive me???", to which he replied, "mmmERRR!" (the his-feelers-are-hurt sound) and refused to come out from under the blankets.
fast forward to 3 days later. he is finally speaking to me again, having conditionally accepted my apology (it cost me a trip through the panda express drive thru - kid drives a hard bargain). the cards, having (amazingly) survived with simply a minor crease to the back side of one of them, were packaged up carefully this morning and mailed off to where they needed to be and everything is settled and peaceful once again.
...until 10 years down the road, when all three of my kids are in therapy remembering that one time that their lah-hoo-zer mom dropped the big effer over some stupid paper. ugh.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
i would rather watch buddy poop.
ZOMBIE NATION...oooh, sounds creepy huh? oh yea. LOVE me some creepy movies...after reading the back of the case at the video store, i didn't expect it would be taking home any oscars, but come on...what critic ever really appreciates a good zombie film? besides, the cover has this way cool, grey-skinned, drippy-fanged, glazed-over-eyeballs dude - oh yea, so sold.
first i was going to fuck with you and tell you to run out and rent ---no, BUY this film. you know, just for fun - but i felt guilty even thinking about it. second i was going to tell you, in detail, about the 84 minutes of my life that i will never get back and try to explain just how painful the passing of each one was. however, upon thinking about it for roughly 12 seconds, i've decided that i cannot make up words to describe this movie. but i'm going to try. i owe it to the unsuspecting masses. really.
do you like the night of the living dead movies? I LOVE THEM. my personal favorite is the mall one (is that dawn of the dead?) complete with porno music, get down and get funky 70's fashion statements and the ever-hunky (gah) steve running through the mall trying to keep up with the cool guy and protect the dimwitted stoned chick. great cinema there - campy and cheeseball and solid entertainment all the way through. now, zombie nation? uh, notsomuch. my point is that i'm not at all hard to please when it comes to skeery, creepy, gory movies and this one failed even me miserably.
not only was there NOTHING in the movie even slightly resembling the way-cool monster on the front of the case, there was nothing resembling an actor, a real movie set or even movie cameras (note the plural - there did seem to be one real movie camera but clips from it were scattered about the movie among many more clips from someones garage sale find in the form of a home video camera circa 1987 - remember the ones roughly the size of a microwave that you had to carry on your shoulder? ok, we are now officially on the same page...); the voice dubs were off - hell, i think their mouths were moving in english, but it was really hard to tell in some places - they could have been speaking farsi for all i know; the fight scenes were so bad that you could see them swing, let up and purposely miss when they were "beating" someone up; oh, and probably my all time favorite part of the movie was when this one guy (at band camp) was hefting a duffel bag (supposedly carrying a dead chick going about a buck-twenty) into the trunk of his maroon mercury cougar "police car", you see him really struggling to carry it because, well...you know it was "heavy". then came the moment where he actually threw it into the trunk...it was so painfully obvious that the bag was flat-ass empty that, just for shits and giggles, we rewound and rewatched it about 5 times. evidently not one person "on the set" thought to toss even a few rocks in there for effect.
apparently the budget for the "film" was so small, the only zombie makeup they could come up with was what appeared to be black crayon rubbed around the actors' (and i use that term oh-so-loosely) eyeballs; apparently, the budget was so small, instead of renting an actual room to film their "police station" scenes in, they used a portion of someones storage warehouse (complete with water pipes and actual stored products) and set up cubicle dividers to make pretend walls; apparently, the budget was so small that when one scene called for a chick-zombie to bite off some guy's wanker, did they at least flash me a glimpse of a real one? noooo, they instead substituted what appeared to be a ketchupy dog's tongue or maybe it was a hot dog - it was dark and hard to tell, regardless IT WAS SO FAKE. interestingly enough, they did find it in the budget to include a close-up scene of some hippie guy (complete with braids and a rolled up bandanna) on the side of the road flashing a peace sign for no apparent reason. it does indeed, remain a puzzling decision.
so, i'm not siskel, ebert or roper, BUT the only value i would place on this dvd would be the ability to do the poop-scoopin'-boogie with it and then maybe, once loaded, throw it like a frisbee over the neighbor's fence. that just might match the thrill of that one scene, when this single, monstrously large, seemingly floating in mid-air, silicone-filled, bare breast took over the entire screen. oh sure. that was worth the rental fee right there. (come on, you know you want to add this movie to your blockbuster online queue - what are you waiting for?)
first i was going to fuck with you and tell you to run out and rent ---no, BUY this film. you know, just for fun - but i felt guilty even thinking about it. second i was going to tell you, in detail, about the 84 minutes of my life that i will never get back and try to explain just how painful the passing of each one was. however, upon thinking about it for roughly 12 seconds, i've decided that i cannot make up words to describe this movie. but i'm going to try. i owe it to the unsuspecting masses. really.
do you like the night of the living dead movies? I LOVE THEM. my personal favorite is the mall one (is that dawn of the dead?) complete with porno music, get down and get funky 70's fashion statements and the ever-hunky (gah) steve running through the mall trying to keep up with the cool guy and protect the dimwitted stoned chick. great cinema there - campy and cheeseball and solid entertainment all the way through. now, zombie nation? uh, notsomuch. my point is that i'm not at all hard to please when it comes to skeery, creepy, gory movies and this one failed even me miserably.
not only was there NOTHING in the movie even slightly resembling the way-cool monster on the front of the case, there was nothing resembling an actor, a real movie set or even movie cameras (note the plural - there did seem to be one real movie camera but clips from it were scattered about the movie among many more clips from someones garage sale find in the form of a home video camera circa 1987 - remember the ones roughly the size of a microwave that you had to carry on your shoulder? ok, we are now officially on the same page...); the voice dubs were off - hell, i think their mouths were moving in english, but it was really hard to tell in some places - they could have been speaking farsi for all i know; the fight scenes were so bad that you could see them swing, let up and purposely miss when they were "beating" someone up; oh, and probably my all time favorite part of the movie was when this one guy (at band camp) was hefting a duffel bag (supposedly carrying a dead chick going about a buck-twenty) into the trunk of his maroon mercury cougar "police car", you see him really struggling to carry it because, well...you know it was "heavy". then came the moment where he actually threw it into the trunk...it was so painfully obvious that the bag was flat-ass empty that, just for shits and giggles, we rewound and rewatched it about 5 times. evidently not one person "on the set" thought to toss even a few rocks in there for effect.
apparently the budget for the "film" was so small, the only zombie makeup they could come up with was what appeared to be black crayon rubbed around the actors' (and i use that term oh-so-loosely) eyeballs; apparently, the budget was so small, instead of renting an actual room to film their "police station" scenes in, they used a portion of someones storage warehouse (complete with water pipes and actual stored products) and set up cubicle dividers to make pretend walls; apparently, the budget was so small that when one scene called for a chick-zombie to bite off some guy's wanker, did they at least flash me a glimpse of a real one? noooo, they instead substituted what appeared to be a ketchupy dog's tongue or maybe it was a hot dog - it was dark and hard to tell, regardless IT WAS SO FAKE. interestingly enough, they did find it in the budget to include a close-up scene of some hippie guy (complete with braids and a rolled up bandanna) on the side of the road flashing a peace sign for no apparent reason. it does indeed, remain a puzzling decision.
so, i'm not siskel, ebert or roper, BUT the only value i would place on this dvd would be the ability to do the poop-scoopin'-boogie with it and then maybe, once loaded, throw it like a frisbee over the neighbor's fence. that just might match the thrill of that one scene, when this single, monstrously large, seemingly floating in mid-air, silicone-filled, bare breast took over the entire screen. oh sure. that was worth the rental fee right there. (come on, you know you want to add this movie to your blockbuster online queue - what are you waiting for?)
baby finches - day 15
just got back from the long weekend and two are already gone...sniff...they didn't even say goodbye. they were used to me and would react when i chirped at them, but today they just got all scrunchy and flat when i let them know i was there.
von boyage (ala brader) my little babies..auntie shawna will miss you and your little andy rooney eyebrows.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
calling all doctors
did i ever tell you about the time i went out to play with the kids in a light rain, hopped on a scooter to show off some mad skillz and ended up flat on my ass after free falling horizontally at a dead drop from about 4 feet up? no? hmmm...can't understand why i wouldn't have jumped right on here and filled you in on that.
about three weeks ago two of my kids are out playing in the rain, having oh-so-much fun when i felt the need to show them just how fast i can take an incredibly sharp 45 degree turn on a scooter without putting my feet down. holy shit, it didn't occur to me that the ground was wet and therefore possibly a tad slippery until i was already committed to the turn, about half way through it. honestly? one second my brain is screaming "OMG-SUNOFA-BITCH i'm not gonna make it!!!", the next second i am trying to shake off a concussion and breathe my way through the blinding pain that had become my left thigh.
my kids were trying so hard to not laugh (do i really need to add that they weren't having a lot of luck at it?) and help me to my feet at the same time, all the while i'm laughing/crying and just trying to get off the ground so that not EVERY neighbor i have sees me crippled on the ground and just assumes shawna went on another bender...ugh. they helped me hobble back into the house and i began myslow and painful recouperation.
three nights i couldn't sleep anywhere but on my right side, five days i gimped around the house, wincing when i had to get in or out of my car. the bruise was phenomenal and were my legs not so hideously gross BEFORE they were black, blue, green and purple, i may have allowed a picture to be taken, but so sorry charlie, not happ-nin'. i'm telling you this thing was the size of a really large man's foot. the center of the area didn't discolor, it only remained numb. the outer ring of the area turned an amazing array of colors over the first week and slowy faded to a lovely brownish color. three weeks later the entire is still sore to the touch, and the center of it pretty much feels like touching your own hand when it's fallen asleep. omg and it ITCHES, but when i scratch it, i can't feel anything so it doesn't cure the itch. WTF? and if i happen to turn or pull against the area when i'm laying on that side this amazing, unbelieveable heat begins and feels like my leg is aflame...what the hell could i have done to it???
Thursday, May 24, 2007
baby finches - day 10
poor things are so cramped in there, LOL - mama hasn't fit for a few days now, she just hangs out in the tree...
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
baby finches - day 8
ok, it's officially been 1 week - i can't believe how much they have grown...this one you keep seeing (i'm assuming it's the same one, they don't seem to be incredibly mobile) seems to be a greedy little bastard...he has, however, assumed his "very serious" face for this particular picture. notice how their wings have really sprouted in two days...
baby finches - day 6
AHAHAHAAAA - nice 'do, dude! their little eyes are fully opened and they still aren't too discriminating about who gives them food...
Friday, May 18, 2007
baby finches - day 4
eeeek! how cute are these little things? lovin' the tufts on their heads and damn - 4 days old and the little bastards are already yellin at their mum...!
they were cracking me up because they would hear my shutter and perk all up, then stop, then do it again...a
nd lookit that scrawny lil neck, LOL! if you look closely i think you can see one of his teeeny wings...i'll post more pics on sunday.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
baby finches - day 3
(photo taken 05/17/2007)
omg - lookit how big they got in two days, notice how much they've filled up the nest!
baby finches - (appx) day 1
these were taken tuesday (05/15/2007) morning - they are pretty dang new, LOL! bizarre looking little creatures - sorry it's blurry, i was stressin' mama out and trying to hurry...these are a little finch type bird, not sure what kind, look at the green blob in the second picture...what the heck is that, a little gizzard?
wanda, the tail-less wonder
ok...one more post today cause i have these pics of this really cute fox.she is tail-less, not sure why, and she appears to be lactating (well, either that or she's just naturally busty). she comes up onto the deck in isabella routinely every night about the same time for scraps. D usually gives her meat scraps, but get this - she LOVES flour tortillas...WTH? tell ya one thing...girl can pack it away!
ain't she a beaut? (they say things like that in isabella)
guilty pleasures
ahh...this should be good, LOL! things that i take pleasure in even though it is wrong, or silly, or just not good for me in some way...you know, things i feel guilty about liking for some reason and might not admit to just anyone.
1) LOVE the song "MMMMM BOP" by hansen - i have no idea what the words are, but i simply cannot hold still when it's playing on the pod
2) 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream on top of a toasted (frozen) belgian waffle, another toasted waffle broken up on top, covered with hot fudge (not choco syrup, gotta be the thick and gooey stuff)
3) a two hour nap in the early afternoon
4) sitting and looking at my scrap stuff
5) the sound of resignation mixed with exasperation in mike's voice
6) spotting cellulite on some really hot chick's legs
7) trapping some dickhead in the right-hand lane behind another car as he tries to pass me on the wrong side (hello? i'm in the left lane for a reason...dumbass)
(sidenote: shitsticks! i've already covered 5 of the Seven Deadly Sins, i'm so going to Hell)
8) i absolutely love it when i just get my hair colored and cut - it just makes me happy all over even though the cost of it could feed a smallish country for a cuppla days
(well now, there's number 6 - i guess we might as well cover them all...)
9) i could tackle lust right here and now, but i'm sparing you the pain and scarring of the visuals i might leave you with - you'll just have to trust me on this one
10) try as i might, i haven't a 10th guilty pleasure, does that make me incomplete somehow?
1) LOVE the song "MMMMM BOP" by hansen - i have no idea what the words are, but i simply cannot hold still when it's playing on the pod
2) 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream on top of a toasted (frozen) belgian waffle, another toasted waffle broken up on top, covered with hot fudge (not choco syrup, gotta be the thick and gooey stuff)
3) a two hour nap in the early afternoon
4) sitting and looking at my scrap stuff
5) the sound of resignation mixed with exasperation in mike's voice
6) spotting cellulite on some really hot chick's legs
7) trapping some dickhead in the right-hand lane behind another car as he tries to pass me on the wrong side (hello? i'm in the left lane for a reason...dumbass)
(sidenote: shitsticks! i've already covered 5 of the Seven Deadly Sins, i'm so going to Hell)
8) i absolutely love it when i just get my hair colored and cut - it just makes me happy all over even though the cost of it could feed a smallish country for a cuppla days
(well now, there's number 6 - i guess we might as well cover them all...)
9) i could tackle lust right here and now, but i'm sparing you the pain and scarring of the visuals i might leave you with - you'll just have to trust me on this one
10) try as i might, i haven't a 10th guilty pleasure, does that make me incomplete somehow?
Friday, April 27, 2007
to kill a bluejay
it is "happy season" for our mourning doves...meaning they are really, really horny and have no qualms about getting busy just about ANYwhere. we have two nests that i can see - one in an acacia tree near my back porch and another in a redwood out by the (p)ool. i am rather fond of the dumb pretty little birds. (i'd swear i've written about their pathetic attempts at nest building, but can't find it...so let's suffer through it again together, shall we?). i'm convinced that when these particular birds begin mating, it's all about young love - not about nest-building abilities or maturity, it's all about being cute and being infatuated with each other. i believe my nests are proof of this. the "nest" in the acacia tree is a pathetic criss-crossing of about 15 little sticks. it is flat. it is not nest-shaped. it has holes all over. when mama sits, she is basically spreading her fat butt across a few forks in the tree. really...not very impressive. now, the nest out by the (p)ool is a much better built nest, but low to the ground and right out in the open. i think this couple were given their nest as a mating present. my guess is that it was installed pre-fabricated, it's a perfect nest. he's a handsome young bird that married into money, nothing but the best for his new FIL's baby. someone should have, however, given her a "nesting-skills-for-dummies" book...she's not so good at it. besides, they are always out partying and stuff...they are young, they still have a bit of the wild side in them, but their intentions are good, they'll straighten up when they need to, right?
ok, so little miss big-butt-on-branches is a fine mother - she has endured very gusty wind storms and pouring down rain without leaving her eggs, she is very brave and refuses to budge when i approach her nest. she has provided her chitlins with a fine father as well. he is very attentive, always bringing yummies and helping sit with the babies. they are good parents. crappy nest-builders, but seemingly really good parents.
which brings me back to the young, clueless couple. a few weeks ago, i checked the nest and found two beautiful little eggs laying sweetly in the nest. saying "awwwww" to myself, i noticed that the eggs were alone (can't get much by me) but figured, i dunno, maybe mama had to pee or something. i went out the next day to see the "grandkids" and - EEK! - only one egg in the nest. shit! i looked around and yep, evidence of the other egg was laying shattered under the nest. well crap - that sucks, but at least there is one left, right? sure, they left it unattended AGAIN, but still it's a cute egg, if not a little lonely looking. two days pass and i am doing my daily check and, shit-on-a-stick, no eggs in the nest and more shells on the ground. sigh. i figured that maybe by now the birds may possibly have realized that their perfect nest was placed in a not-so-perfect spot - too easy to access by other birds, dogs, what have you - and maybe they fled to another location.
long story a bit longer - no, they didn't go out and find/build/buy/whatever a new nest...they laid two more eggs in the existing one. very cute, sweet, white shiny eggs. after watching for a couple of days i decided that mama seemed to be sitting much better this time, the two of them are always frolicking around in the branches out there, you know, just funnin' and stuff. so, keeping that in mind, imagine my lack of concern upon looking out towards their nest two days ago and noticing branches bouncing around and stuff. then i see a bluejay hop out of the nest and see the two mourners smacking furiously at him with their wings. whoa-hey, this is not a friendly, tree tussle going on out there...they need me, that jay is trying to steal their eggs, super-shawna to the rescue, STAT!
i went tearing out there, yelling obscenities (i know...imagine that.), scaring the crap outta braden and brynn cause they had no idea why the hell i was running out the door, yelling and shaking a stick at the tree. my dogs are ALL excited because a) i was running; b) they got to go in and pee on the (p)ool area bushes; and c) i wasn't yelling obscenities at them for a change. (oh sure, happy dog day at la case de martini). so anyway, back to the birds...the farking jay flies off, and the mourners are all at each other's throats, i'm sure accusing one another of leaving the nest unattended. he quite possibly wants to know why in the hell she needed to get her claws done again and she is well within her rights to want to know where the hell he spent last night, because it definintely wasn't on his own branch! being the sensitive person that i am and seeing that they were rather caught up in their little bird-soap opera, i decided to check the nest for them and - WHEW, thank goodness - the eggs were fine. i got a warm and gooey feeling all over, happy in my role of protecting the nest from that bastard blue predator. i just assumed the couple would work out their little bird-differences, learn a lesson or two about leaving their store-bought nest unattended and get back to the business of hatching and raising their young'uns to be big, fat, healthy little bug eaters.
well, i assumed wrong. i don't know what the hell happened, but i went out this morning to say hi and make sure everything was as it should be...and fmr, no eggs. no new shells under the nest, but no babies either. sigh. i'm so depressed. will i never learn? will i ever realize that the circle of life happens for a reason and to just butt out? will the crappy-parent couple ever successfully raise babies? will the shitty nest builders reinforce their house so that the eggs don't fall through the crater-sized gaps in it? will phil spector open fire on the courtroom in a rare moment of non-medicated lucidity? and what could he possibly do next to his hair that hasn't already been done?
again with the sigh. stay tuned.
ok, so little miss big-butt-on-branches is a fine mother - she has endured very gusty wind storms and pouring down rain without leaving her eggs, she is very brave and refuses to budge when i approach her nest. she has provided her chitlins with a fine father as well. he is very attentive, always bringing yummies and helping sit with the babies. they are good parents. crappy nest-builders, but seemingly really good parents.
which brings me back to the young, clueless couple. a few weeks ago, i checked the nest and found two beautiful little eggs laying sweetly in the nest. saying "awwwww" to myself, i noticed that the eggs were alone (can't get much by me) but figured, i dunno, maybe mama had to pee or something. i went out the next day to see the "grandkids" and - EEK! - only one egg in the nest. shit! i looked around and yep, evidence of the other egg was laying shattered under the nest. well crap - that sucks, but at least there is one left, right? sure, they left it unattended AGAIN, but still it's a cute egg, if not a little lonely looking. two days pass and i am doing my daily check and, shit-on-a-stick, no eggs in the nest and more shells on the ground. sigh. i figured that maybe by now the birds may possibly have realized that their perfect nest was placed in a not-so-perfect spot - too easy to access by other birds, dogs, what have you - and maybe they fled to another location.
long story a bit longer - no, they didn't go out and find/build/buy/whatever a new nest...they laid two more eggs in the existing one. very cute, sweet, white shiny eggs. after watching for a couple of days i decided that mama seemed to be sitting much better this time, the two of them are always frolicking around in the branches out there, you know, just funnin' and stuff. so, keeping that in mind, imagine my lack of concern upon looking out towards their nest two days ago and noticing branches bouncing around and stuff. then i see a bluejay hop out of the nest and see the two mourners smacking furiously at him with their wings. whoa-hey, this is not a friendly, tree tussle going on out there...they need me, that jay is trying to steal their eggs, super-shawna to the rescue, STAT!
i went tearing out there, yelling obscenities (i know...imagine that.), scaring the crap outta braden and brynn cause they had no idea why the hell i was running out the door, yelling and shaking a stick at the tree. my dogs are ALL excited because a) i was running; b) they got to go in and pee on the (p)ool area bushes; and c) i wasn't yelling obscenities at them for a change. (oh sure, happy dog day at la case de martini). so anyway, back to the birds...the farking jay flies off, and the mourners are all at each other's throats, i'm sure accusing one another of leaving the nest unattended. he quite possibly wants to know why in the hell she needed to get her claws done again and she is well within her rights to want to know where the hell he spent last night, because it definintely wasn't on his own branch! being the sensitive person that i am and seeing that they were rather caught up in their little bird-soap opera, i decided to check the nest for them and - WHEW, thank goodness - the eggs were fine. i got a warm and gooey feeling all over, happy in my role of protecting the nest from that bastard blue predator. i just assumed the couple would work out their little bird-differences, learn a lesson or two about leaving their store-bought nest unattended and get back to the business of hatching and raising their young'uns to be big, fat, healthy little bug eaters.
well, i assumed wrong. i don't know what the hell happened, but i went out this morning to say hi and make sure everything was as it should be...and fmr, no eggs. no new shells under the nest, but no babies either. sigh. i'm so depressed. will i never learn? will i ever realize that the circle of life happens for a reason and to just butt out? will the crappy-parent couple ever successfully raise babies? will the shitty nest builders reinforce their house so that the eggs don't fall through the crater-sized gaps in it? will phil spector open fire on the courtroom in a rare moment of non-medicated lucidity? and what could he possibly do next to his hair that hasn't already been done?
again with the sigh. stay tuned.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
geek girl at your service
technology is pretty freaking amazing...as some of you know, i've been obsessed with streamlining and backing up all of my pictures and music for a couple of months now. two essentials of the easy life...must have music and i'm sure i will want to look back and laugh at all of the ridiculous things going on in my life that have been recorded on film.
first the pictures. i take a MINIMUM of 3 pictures of anything i see fit to capture on film. i may take it from a different angle, closer or further away, whatever - i simply must get more than one shot of it, because you never know. considering that i have been taking pictures almost daily for about 15 years and upload them ALL to my computer (in order to select THE VERY BEST ONE [and you are not it]) about once a week...i have an assload of pictures on my computer. not only do i have an assload (if you haven't seen my particular ass lately, believe me - there is mass potential for a LOT of freakin pictures!) of original pictures on my hard drive; i have multiple copies of the assload of pictures on my hard drive. i am a maniac about making sure i never lose a picture. if i crop a picture, i save it as "rs" for resized; if i remove the color or enhance the color of a picture, i save it as "adj" for adjusted; if i rotate a picture, yes...i save it as "rote" for rotated. all of this in addition to saving the original as it came off of my camera. i am a freak. you would think with all of this "organization", i would have it goin on in the My Pictures folder arena. that would be well...just silly. i don't organize anthing else in my life...why start here?
my plan (grandiose, i admit) was to find every freakin picture on my hard drive, consolidate, delete copies and organize them IN ONE PLACE. i spent about an entire week doing this and thought i was really making some progress. after dumping what had to amount to about 10,000 pictures, i figured i had freed up at least 30-40% of my hard drive. nope...11%. WTF? upon further inspection, i found an entire area of yes, more pictures. some copies of what i had already found, some i hadn't seen in 10 years and forgotten i had even taken. ("holy crap! can you even believe i was ever than thin? friggen BURN that sucker, must. destroy. all. evidence."). so i'm kinda back to square one and still stressing about "what if my 8 year old hard drive desides to take a dump and flushes the last 15 years of my life down the toilet?"...
moving on to the music. i am retardedly obsessive about my music. i would more than likely puddle up in a corner and simply cry myself to death if my music were to just go away one day. (yea, i know - "she wasn't even THAT concerned about losing the irreplaceable photo records of her children" whatEVER!). so anyway, i use itunes and love it, but was having trouble figuring out how to back up my library of 2000+ songs without using up 150 blank cd's and six months of my life. so i've put it off and put it off, and again with the putting it off. most of the music could be replaced as about 70% is off of the billion cd's i have collected over the years - but hell, that was a LOT of work getting them on there, i don't wanna do that again. the other 30% is purchased online or borrowed from people i may or may not hang out with now that i don't need to use them for their music. (kidding.) bottom line - i need to back up my music.
so i'm tripping around costco yesterday...i have a list, but never stick to it anyway, so why do i bother? i head down the electronics aisle, you know...just to see what is there, and what jumps out and trips me in the aisle in an attempt to get me to stop???
say it with me:
first the pictures. i take a MINIMUM of 3 pictures of anything i see fit to capture on film. i may take it from a different angle, closer or further away, whatever - i simply must get more than one shot of it, because you never know. considering that i have been taking pictures almost daily for about 15 years and upload them ALL to my computer (in order to select THE VERY BEST ONE [and you are not it]) about once a week...i have an assload of pictures on my computer. not only do i have an assload (if you haven't seen my particular ass lately, believe me - there is mass potential for a LOT of freakin pictures!) of original pictures on my hard drive; i have multiple copies of the assload of pictures on my hard drive. i am a maniac about making sure i never lose a picture. if i crop a picture, i save it as "rs" for resized; if i remove the color or enhance the color of a picture, i save it as "adj" for adjusted; if i rotate a picture, yes...i save it as "rote" for rotated. all of this in addition to saving the original as it came off of my camera. i am a freak. you would think with all of this "organization", i would have it goin on in the My Pictures folder arena. that would be well...just silly. i don't organize anthing else in my life...why start here?
my plan (grandiose, i admit) was to find every freakin picture on my hard drive, consolidate, delete copies and organize them IN ONE PLACE. i spent about an entire week doing this and thought i was really making some progress. after dumping what had to amount to about 10,000 pictures, i figured i had freed up at least 30-40% of my hard drive. nope...11%. WTF? upon further inspection, i found an entire area of yes, more pictures. some copies of what i had already found, some i hadn't seen in 10 years and forgotten i had even taken. ("holy crap! can you even believe i was ever than thin? friggen BURN that sucker, must. destroy. all. evidence."). so i'm kinda back to square one and still stressing about "what if my 8 year old hard drive desides to take a dump and flushes the last 15 years of my life down the toilet?"...
moving on to the music. i am retardedly obsessive about my music. i would more than likely puddle up in a corner and simply cry myself to death if my music were to just go away one day. (yea, i know - "she wasn't even THAT concerned about losing the irreplaceable photo records of her children" whatEVER!). so anyway, i use itunes and love it, but was having trouble figuring out how to back up my library of 2000+ songs without using up 150 blank cd's and six months of my life. so i've put it off and put it off, and again with the putting it off. most of the music could be replaced as about 70% is off of the billion cd's i have collected over the years - but hell, that was a LOT of work getting them on there, i don't wanna do that again. the other 30% is purchased online or borrowed from people i may or may not hang out with now that i don't need to use them for their music. (kidding.) bottom line - i need to back up my music.
so i'm tripping around costco yesterday...i have a list, but never stick to it anyway, so why do i bother? i head down the electronics aisle, you know...just to see what is there, and what jumps out and trips me in the aisle in an attempt to get me to stop???
say it with me:
(and as the Heavens above open up and the sunlight fills the dark and dreary warehouse store, i hear angels singing at the top of their little angel lungs..."HALLELUJAH, hallelujah-hallelujah, HAL-LE-LOO-YAHH!")
oh good Lord, this is the answer i've been searching for. and the choices are endless...if i purchase say, a 160gb EHD (oh yea, i'm that cool now), i can store a combination of up to approximately 45,000 songs and/or photos. all of this for a mere $120 (which i really didn't have, but damn...how can i NOT afford this gadget, i ask you?) (oh and SEE how much money i saved over the website's price {$169.99}- PLUS, i got the carrying case {$19.99} and the cable {$9.99} FREE!). this particular one is portable (so cool) and small (about 5"x3")...oooh-wee go me!
ok, ok - enough drama. i bought it with only about a 10 minute hesitation, raced home and started moving shit around. started with my music (DONE!) as that is the most organized and plan on finishing up my photos next week. once everything is safely backed up, i can remove all these freakin pictures from my lil 45gb desktop hard drive and hopefully stop it from freezing up on me if i happen to be instant messaging leaf at the same time that an email tries to come through. maybe extend it's life another year or two (if, in no other way, than by keeping me from smashing it through the french doors the next time it tries to fuck with me while i'm PMS'ing). my original itunes library will stay on my desktop cause i listen to it there quite often, but i will no longer have to wake up in a night sweat from the reocurring nightmare that portrays a giant manatee eating my computer and forcing me to watch it poop out what is left of my music files (oh and those pictures of the kids too, yea...of course). i really need no other causes for those lovely night sweats - mother nature is handling that just fine.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
love in a small town
(overheard in a strip mall parking lot between a couple of interesting folks, each carrying a large can of cheap beer - him a 60ish little hairy guy, her a 30ish hardass)
"fuck you motherfucker!" (her: walking backwards, facing him, offering up a "heil hitler" chest salute - huh?)
"no, fuck YOU motherfucker!" (him: walking really, really fast so he can keep up with her)
"get the fuck home motherfucker!" (her: you go girl!)
"fuck you, you stinky bitch!" (him: WINNAH!)
(he walks very quickly down the street - i assume towards "home" as she gently suggested; she puts down her 40ozer in a safe place and saunters into a smoke shop...)
"fuck you motherfucker!" (her: walking backwards, facing him, offering up a "heil hitler" chest salute - huh?)
"no, fuck YOU motherfucker!" (him: walking really, really fast so he can keep up with her)
"get the fuck home motherfucker!" (her: you go girl!)
"fuck you, you stinky bitch!" (him: WINNAH!)
(he walks very quickly down the street - i assume towards "home" as she gently suggested; she puts down her 40ozer in a safe place and saunters into a smoke shop...)
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
happy trails with mouths full of grit
took the kids out riding two weekends ago...we ate a lot of dust, got to pee behind bushes, dined on salami, cheese and crackers and explored the beauty of the desert (not necessarily in that order), goooood times.
brader (in pic #1) spent a lot of the time puttering around our day camp, he's pretty cautious, but i'd rather that than the opposite...eek!
dale (pic #2) showing off his mad power-slide skillz. (heh heh heh, he knows what the next pic in this succession would have shown, but i'm not telling...)
the tall kid, the girl and their ma (pic #3), damn boy kept trying to run us off the road - he wouldn't let me pass him and i do believe he would have just plowed into me had i gone for it, he was determined to keep me eating his dust...never did catch the little brat.
the girl and her ma (pic #4), rest assured her mouth was more than likely moving at the time of this shot...
Monday, April 16, 2007
the three little pigs: a mother's tale
so, i have these three kids...they were all raised about the same - same parents, same values, same rules. so, what the hell happened to make them all so different from each other?
bennett is my oldest crumbsnatcher at 14. he is rather introverted and fairly quiet, with lots going on inside. he makes strange friends - they are basically good kids, just a bit different. he is very smart, but so lazy. he is quirky, he wears these gloves with cutoff fingers...wears them constantly. he is brown, his hands are white...weird. he calls them his 'hobo gloves' i cannot explain it, nor will i try. we joke that even indirect sunlight will turn his retinas into flaming pools of lava and that fresh air is pure poison to his system - that's how often he spends time outside. he is not athletic, nor would he give a rip if he was...if he could, he would spend 12 hours a day on the computer or playing some form of electronic game...he would spend the remaining 12 hours sleeping. he has no interest in board games or talking on the telephone. he does, however, LOVE to ride the quads - he is a careful rider but still assertive and he is learning to breathe nice and shallow so as to not actually overdose on the oxygen-rich Fresh Air his mother is ruthlessly exposing him to. he likes girls, but he's very shy and sees himself as a dork (which, let's face it, he is my child). he loves invader zim, family guy and robot chicken (yea, nothing but quality programming for my children). he loves music, but very rarely sings out loud...most times i might as well be talking to the plants for all he hears me with his ear buds in and his taste in music leans towards darkness and yelling. he is a very loving kid, he tells me he loves me daily and always kisses me goodnight. he is generally amicable and easygoing - well, as long as i don't ask him to do anything crazy (read: uhhh...shower). he grumbles a lot and doesn't particularly care for the two monkeys that we call braden and brynn. he is a handsome boy, just in that zitty, awkward teenage stage. he is quite tall - like, 6'2" - and very physically mature for his age, he has been shaving for the last 9 months (remember: kid's 14...) he tries to be tolerant of others, but deals with a lot of inner frustration and turmoil - again, with the 14 thing.
braden...(whoa! did the lights just flicker on and off at the mere mention of his name?) braden is, at 11, just "a braden". he is like no one else known to me. he is loud, oh so loud - the house can be silent (ok, so this doesn't exactly happen often) and something in that stimulates brader's brain into thinking, "hey, i think i'll shriek something unintelligible at the top of my lungs for no apparent reason other than to scare the pee out of my mom". it literally makes my teeth hurt - CRAP i hate it when he does that. braden is very happy-go-lucky. he is handsome, with these eyes that the girls may very well kill for down the road (big joke at school, "hey braden, have any mascara left that i can borrow?"). he's always smiling, singing and dancing (i'm quite unnerved by, but beginning to accept, the very strong possibility that he may end up being a pole-dancer), he is energetic and athletic - he's very tall and reminds me of a ginormous puppy. one of those really big, really dopey, really BIG puppy's, like maybe a saint bernard at 6 months old. his friends have almost always been those trouble-makers kids that every school has and every mother chants as her personal mantra at the beginning of each school year, "oh-dear-please-GOD-don't-let-my-child-want-to-be-friends-with-that-child". they have names like "spencer" and "charles" - i've yet to meet "neew-man" (think seinfeld), but i have no doubt he's out there just biding his time. braden is always running everywhere, he's always leaping on things, he is always breaking shit. he doesn't mean to, ("it just happens mom") but when i see him with something in his hands that is not exclusively his to destroy the crap out of, i hiss "drop it, NOW." he'll put it down gently and look at me with those eyes that say "jeez mom, i just wanted to look at it" all kinda mopey and junk. i feel bad, but the kid is, pure and simple, a 9.8 earthquake just waiting to happen. weirdly, braden is very cautious out on the quads. he rides verrrrrry slowly and stresses out over ruts in the road. to be perfectly fair, he has taken a few 'nad-taps on the gas tank - that could have something to do with it. when braden eats - OMG, when this kid eats, it's like a train wreck, you really really want to turn away, but the pure horror of it just pulls you back...food flys everywhere, it is in his nose, in his eyebrows, on his elbows, on the back of his head. keeping in mind he has never been made to cage-fight for a meal, this child eats like his food is not only threatened by all other life forms, but that it may, at any moment, mysteriously vanish and he will literally D.I.E. if he doesn't get it ALL into his belly faster than the speed of light. he'll have food-juice and shit running through his fingers (forks are utensils of the devil, meant to cause a slow agonizing death if solely depended upon for getting food to one's mouth). upon fighting back the nausea and actually observing him eat a meal, i see him take a bite and shove it to the back of his mouth, then shovel another bite (or 10) in there before even attempting to chew, all the while talking and laughing about, oh i don't know, ANYthing. ah yes, i am lucky enough to experience this on a daily basis. my middle child does have a huge heart - he would happily give you the shirt off his back, of course it'll be all smelly, stained and ripped to shreds, but hey that doesn't make him any less generous.
the Girl. my petite little flower. my quiet, gentle, clean, little, girly-girl.
uhhh...no.
ms b is 7 and tall and loud and smart and feels no pain. she can hang with the big boys and often outdo them. she is part tomboy, part princess...she evidently loves to have her hair hanging in her face, her clothes as mismatched as possible and no longer fitting properly. you can pretty much always find her wearing fashionable heels (with the toes all ground down from dragging her feet and dirt permanently tattooed in the shape of her sweet little smelly feet upon the inner soles) with any clothing ensemble; sweat pants with the knees blown out and heels; a motorcycle helmet, jeans that quit fitting 2 years ago and heels; a swimsuit and heels; a snowsuit, gloves and heels (add the lime green socks, and it's truly a kick-ass look). yes, my girl is a fashion maven. sigh. brynn sings all the time - girl can belt out the tunes and sounds incredibly good while doing it. she hates to shower, hates to brush her hair and gets "puffy" (meaning her faces get all red and puffs up as she readies herself for summoning tears on cue) if i rush her in the morning. if i pick out clothes she doesn't like. if i misunderstand something she says. if i pour too much milk on her cereal. if i say she can set the table for dinner and then decide we can all eat at the bar watching tv instead...you getting the idea? the girl puffs. she also makes "books". hundreds of "books", all the time "books". copy paper cut and folded and stapled. sometimes she simply copies down one of her story books onto one of her own homemade "books" - yes, word for word. brynn loves the quads and thank GOD she is too small to ride one on her own. of course then who in the world would she talk to while riding? i do not exaggerate here...we can be in the middle of the desert or on a mountain top; it can be 100 degrees or 35 degrees outside; we can be riding slowly down a straight stretch or perched precariously on the edge of a 900 drop off...the. girl. does. not. shut. up. she talks, and talks and then thinks of something to talk about. if she's momentarily out of ideas, she sings. her mouth moves constantly. the tough part here is that we both are under helmets and bandanna's - sounds are muffled, hearing is pert-near impossible, but GOD FORBID i not correctly hear something she has to say. she drills me later on the various subjects we "discussed" on our ride...needless to say, these convies often end up with a showing of yes, puffiness.
my kids are all so different, but they do have a few things in common; they all love hamburgers and tacos (the only two meals i can create that no one bitches about); they all love music and have varied tastes; they all hate to be clean and believe that good-smelling skin and hair is evil; all three bedrooms make (post-bombed of course) Hiroshima look like a big calm, beautiful meadow; they all have insanely fabulous senses-of-humor, they are freaking hysterical little beings and make me laugh constantly; they all do amazingly well in school, have huge, kind hearts and are all-around very good kids. sometimes it's hard to see that through the gross hair, the smelly bodies, the food-stained and holey clothes, the broken crap strewn about the house; sometimes it's hard to remember it when some are beating each other up and others are screaming for mercy, but i always have the nights to remind me. each evening before i turn in, i set out into the various "danger zones", intent on making my way through the mass destruction, finally making it to their beds (assuming i haven't drawn personal blood along the way and had to turn back for emergency surgery). i tuck them in tight and kiss their sweet, sweaty faces and am hit with the full force of how much i love these gorgeous little bastards - with all of their quirks and complexities, they are mine.
bennett is my oldest crumbsnatcher at 14. he is rather introverted and fairly quiet, with lots going on inside. he makes strange friends - they are basically good kids, just a bit different. he is very smart, but so lazy. he is quirky, he wears these gloves with cutoff fingers...wears them constantly. he is brown, his hands are white...weird. he calls them his 'hobo gloves' i cannot explain it, nor will i try. we joke that even indirect sunlight will turn his retinas into flaming pools of lava and that fresh air is pure poison to his system - that's how often he spends time outside. he is not athletic, nor would he give a rip if he was...if he could, he would spend 12 hours a day on the computer or playing some form of electronic game...he would spend the remaining 12 hours sleeping. he has no interest in board games or talking on the telephone. he does, however, LOVE to ride the quads - he is a careful rider but still assertive and he is learning to breathe nice and shallow so as to not actually overdose on the oxygen-rich Fresh Air his mother is ruthlessly exposing him to. he likes girls, but he's very shy and sees himself as a dork (which, let's face it, he is my child). he loves invader zim, family guy and robot chicken (yea, nothing but quality programming for my children). he loves music, but very rarely sings out loud...most times i might as well be talking to the plants for all he hears me with his ear buds in and his taste in music leans towards darkness and yelling. he is a very loving kid, he tells me he loves me daily and always kisses me goodnight. he is generally amicable and easygoing - well, as long as i don't ask him to do anything crazy (read: uhhh...shower). he grumbles a lot and doesn't particularly care for the two monkeys that we call braden and brynn. he is a handsome boy, just in that zitty, awkward teenage stage. he is quite tall - like, 6'2" - and very physically mature for his age, he has been shaving for the last 9 months (remember: kid's 14...) he tries to be tolerant of others, but deals with a lot of inner frustration and turmoil - again, with the 14 thing.
braden...(whoa! did the lights just flicker on and off at the mere mention of his name?) braden is, at 11, just "a braden". he is like no one else known to me. he is loud, oh so loud - the house can be silent (ok, so this doesn't exactly happen often) and something in that stimulates brader's brain into thinking, "hey, i think i'll shriek something unintelligible at the top of my lungs for no apparent reason other than to scare the pee out of my mom". it literally makes my teeth hurt - CRAP i hate it when he does that. braden is very happy-go-lucky. he is handsome, with these eyes that the girls may very well kill for down the road (big joke at school, "hey braden, have any mascara left that i can borrow?"). he's always smiling, singing and dancing (i'm quite unnerved by, but beginning to accept, the very strong possibility that he may end up being a pole-dancer), he is energetic and athletic - he's very tall and reminds me of a ginormous puppy. one of those really big, really dopey, really BIG puppy's, like maybe a saint bernard at 6 months old. his friends have almost always been those trouble-makers kids that every school has and every mother chants as her personal mantra at the beginning of each school year, "oh-dear-please-GOD-don't-let-my-child-want-to-be-friends-with-that-child". they have names like "spencer" and "charles" - i've yet to meet "neew-man" (think seinfeld), but i have no doubt he's out there just biding his time. braden is always running everywhere, he's always leaping on things, he is always breaking shit. he doesn't mean to, ("it just happens mom") but when i see him with something in his hands that is not exclusively his to destroy the crap out of, i hiss "drop it, NOW." he'll put it down gently and look at me with those eyes that say "jeez mom, i just wanted to look at it" all kinda mopey and junk. i feel bad, but the kid is, pure and simple, a 9.8 earthquake just waiting to happen. weirdly, braden is very cautious out on the quads. he rides verrrrrry slowly and stresses out over ruts in the road. to be perfectly fair, he has taken a few 'nad-taps on the gas tank - that could have something to do with it. when braden eats - OMG, when this kid eats, it's like a train wreck, you really really want to turn away, but the pure horror of it just pulls you back...food flys everywhere, it is in his nose, in his eyebrows, on his elbows, on the back of his head. keeping in mind he has never been made to cage-fight for a meal, this child eats like his food is not only threatened by all other life forms, but that it may, at any moment, mysteriously vanish and he will literally D.I.E. if he doesn't get it ALL into his belly faster than the speed of light. he'll have food-juice and shit running through his fingers (forks are utensils of the devil, meant to cause a slow agonizing death if solely depended upon for getting food to one's mouth). upon fighting back the nausea and actually observing him eat a meal, i see him take a bite and shove it to the back of his mouth, then shovel another bite (or 10) in there before even attempting to chew, all the while talking and laughing about, oh i don't know, ANYthing. ah yes, i am lucky enough to experience this on a daily basis. my middle child does have a huge heart - he would happily give you the shirt off his back, of course it'll be all smelly, stained and ripped to shreds, but hey that doesn't make him any less generous.
the Girl. my petite little flower. my quiet, gentle, clean, little, girly-girl.
uhhh...no.
ms b is 7 and tall and loud and smart and feels no pain. she can hang with the big boys and often outdo them. she is part tomboy, part princess...she evidently loves to have her hair hanging in her face, her clothes as mismatched as possible and no longer fitting properly. you can pretty much always find her wearing fashionable heels (with the toes all ground down from dragging her feet and dirt permanently tattooed in the shape of her sweet little smelly feet upon the inner soles) with any clothing ensemble; sweat pants with the knees blown out and heels; a motorcycle helmet, jeans that quit fitting 2 years ago and heels; a swimsuit and heels; a snowsuit, gloves and heels (add the lime green socks, and it's truly a kick-ass look). yes, my girl is a fashion maven. sigh. brynn sings all the time - girl can belt out the tunes and sounds incredibly good while doing it. she hates to shower, hates to brush her hair and gets "puffy" (meaning her faces get all red and puffs up as she readies herself for summoning tears on cue) if i rush her in the morning. if i pick out clothes she doesn't like. if i misunderstand something she says. if i pour too much milk on her cereal. if i say she can set the table for dinner and then decide we can all eat at the bar watching tv instead...you getting the idea? the girl puffs. she also makes "books". hundreds of "books", all the time "books". copy paper cut and folded and stapled. sometimes she simply copies down one of her story books onto one of her own homemade "books" - yes, word for word. brynn loves the quads and thank GOD she is too small to ride one on her own. of course then who in the world would she talk to while riding? i do not exaggerate here...we can be in the middle of the desert or on a mountain top; it can be 100 degrees or 35 degrees outside; we can be riding slowly down a straight stretch or perched precariously on the edge of a 900 drop off...the. girl. does. not. shut. up. she talks, and talks and then thinks of something to talk about. if she's momentarily out of ideas, she sings. her mouth moves constantly. the tough part here is that we both are under helmets and bandanna's - sounds are muffled, hearing is pert-near impossible, but GOD FORBID i not correctly hear something she has to say. she drills me later on the various subjects we "discussed" on our ride...needless to say, these convies often end up with a showing of yes, puffiness.
my kids are all so different, but they do have a few things in common; they all love hamburgers and tacos (the only two meals i can create that no one bitches about); they all love music and have varied tastes; they all hate to be clean and believe that good-smelling skin and hair is evil; all three bedrooms make (post-bombed of course) Hiroshima look like a big calm, beautiful meadow; they all have insanely fabulous senses-of-humor, they are freaking hysterical little beings and make me laugh constantly; they all do amazingly well in school, have huge, kind hearts and are all-around very good kids. sometimes it's hard to see that through the gross hair, the smelly bodies, the food-stained and holey clothes, the broken crap strewn about the house; sometimes it's hard to remember it when some are beating each other up and others are screaming for mercy, but i always have the nights to remind me. each evening before i turn in, i set out into the various "danger zones", intent on making my way through the mass destruction, finally making it to their beds (assuming i haven't drawn personal blood along the way and had to turn back for emergency surgery). i tuck them in tight and kiss their sweet, sweaty faces and am hit with the full force of how much i love these gorgeous little bastards - with all of their quirks and complexities, they are mine.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
newborn pictures...
ahhh...my first IRIS is finally here! i feel like a brand new mama - she's so beautiful. i check these plants every day for buds - i've been so anxious to see them...yes, i know DUH-HORK, but i got the tubers from the Man last fall and haven't seen them bloom yet - these are our babies people!
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