The Last Day of 2012

2012 has been a year of ups and downs.  Goods and bads. 

Goods

1. My daughter moved close to me.
2. My kitchen renovations were finally completed. 
3. I was asked to write for an on-line magazine.
4. We got our wood done early. 
5. I got to see my entire family...all in one place. 
6. I didn't chop anything off, break anything, or saw any body part in two, my body finishes the year in one piece.
7. The hubby and I are still talking, not divorced, and actually seem to still like each other.  
8. My dog seems to have learned to stay away from porcupines after a minor encounter.
9. My beach is coming along quite nicely. 
10. The weather was amazing this year. 
11. I've learned to like my cat.
12. The world did not end in rapture or Mayan disaster. 
13. I continue to enjoy writing in my blog. 

Bads

1. My mom died.
2. We ran out of money so could not complete our house renovations.
3. I managed to gain twenty pounds from stress eating. 
4. My cholesterol is high.
5. I've learned to like my cat.
6. I need new runners. 
7. I need to start running again. 
8. We got snow on the ground.

Tonight I will be celebrating the coming year as I've done many times in the past...eating dinner, reading a book, watching a movie, and going to bed whenever I am tired.  I may potentially stay up until midnight but if I were a betting woman I wouldn't take that bet. 

Our fantastic weather has finally turned to craptastic in the last couple of days.  We went from no snow to some snow, which means I can no longer see the green on my front grass.  Which sucks, but it is winter and being in Canada that means taking the bad with the good.  The temperature actually dropped today and has been hovering in the -5 degree range, but with a serious wind I am sure it feels so much colder (no I haven't taken the dog for a walk yet so I cannot be 100% positive about it...but I would take that bet.) Here is the newest submission to Life As A Human if anyone is interested in reading it.  http://lifeasahuman.com/2012/relationships/family/i-love-you-heart-and-soul/

Well it has been a pleasure regaling everyone with the antics that is Kitpu Estates, and I hope to continue the process into the next year, and the year after, and the year after....etc. 

So Happy New Year from all of us here at Kitpu Estates; Sunny McJingles, the Hellhound, Karson the cat, and me, Iron Bess of the East.   

Happy Turkey Day Y'All

We finally had our turkey day today and I am still stuffed.  Almost as stuffed as the turkey was but not quite in the same areas...yet.  I bought one of them turkey's which look like they came out second best in the fight, this one was missing a wing, which means quite a discount on the price.  It was amazingly tender and fallie apart after the cooking of it, so in my books it was quite worth the fact that it was missing an appendage.  But it was cook all day, eat in five minutes, feel full and kind of sick to the stomach for hours after, so pretty much par for the course. 

We were going to spend the night at the kidlet's place but Sunny McJingles and I decided to come back to Kitpu Estates so we can batten down the hatches and wait for the big storm that has been forecast to blow in tonight.  You see a few years back I had come out east to visit my mom after her surgery and on the day I was leaving they predicted a big storm which I got caught in.  The day before the storm it was warm, sunny, and blue skies and as I was driving into the city so I would have a head start over the weather I was questioning my sanity.  Good thing I did because it was beyond crazy!  It went from green grass to two feet of snow, and six feet of snow banks in less than two hours.  Which brings me to now...we won't be taking chances of getting caught away from home.  Someone needs to a) plow/blow/shovel the walk/driveways, b) make sure the fire is stoked, and c) make sure the cat gets fed.  (I think the cat may switch those priorities if she knew.) 

WTQ?

So there we go, another December 25th has come and gone, and life, the economy, and the world continues on.  Or does it?   

I woke up this morning to a green lawn, but then it started snowing, blowing, and winding like it hasn't done since some time two years ago.  Yuck.  The weather wizards on CBC radio were chattering all day that it was going to be turning to rain later this afternoon, and it did...in spades.  Which is really, really crappy.  The reason I say that is because instead of curling up with a good book beside a fire tonight and never stepping foot outside the house the kidlet's hubby is flying in today from somewhere in the Denver area and has to fly to Toronto, then to Halifax, and they are talking about delays and cancellations.  Sunny McJingles, aka The Hubby, has volunteered to go and pick him up so the kidlet doesn't have to take her young ones out into this.  I suggested that if the flight actually does make it in he should probably just hotel it overnight and then hubby can pick him up during daylight hours.  But what do I know right?

It really is quick shitty out there.  I am really not that thrilled about hubby driving in this when it isn't absolutely necessary.  Okay I will quit loading this blog down in worry now and write about something else. 

We haven't actually done the whole Xmas thing yet seeing as we are missing one adult in the mix, so our dinner and gift opening will take place in two days.  The weird thing about it all is that even though we haven't actually done typical celebrations yet I already feel like I am done with the whole process.  It's one of those things that seems like a good idea at the time but really when it comes down to it I don't actually want to do it.  Oh, oh...I wonder if that is my mother speaking through me?  She was always like that. 

Me: "Mom I'm going to Lethbridge next weekend want to come?" 

 

Mom: "Oh that sounds lovely.  I would love to come."

Flash forward a week....

 

Me: "I'm just leaving now I'll be by to pick you up in five minutes."

Mom: "Oh dear I'm not going to go, I'm not feeling very well."

Me: "I just talked to you last night you were feeling fine."

Mom: "I...um...suddenly fell ill last night.  After talking to you I was up all night throwing up...and I developed cataracts...and I have Lyme disease...and Lupus...and I also fell down and broke my leg/arm/tooth/spine/small intestine...and forgot to wash my hair. So I can't go.  But I have a list for you to pick up for me it's only four pages long..."

And sadly that isn't an exaggeration. 

The kidlet and her brood spent the last three days with us so of course I am exhausted.  Here is a bit of advice for those people considering putting off having kids until they are in their forties.  DON’T!  Unless you have enough money to hire a nanny, au pair, cook, maid, butler, chauffeur, shrink and massage therapist.  (If you have that much money you may also want to consider someone else having the kids for you.  Oh and also building an entire structure next to your home to house all the toys, paraphernalia, gym, padded rooms, TV room, five ring circus, and miniature version of Disney Land you will need to keep them entertained.)  Otherwise I cannot vouch for your sanity nor chances of surviving into your fifties. 

And while I am on the topic of keeping tiny humans entertained I want to know when exactly did that kind of crap start?  I certainly do not remember having to entertain my kid (of course truth be told I don’t remember a bunch of stuff from that far back, I was too busy still being a kid myself.) And I know for a fact that my parents would have looked at me like I had just grown three heads if I had ever wandered over and wanted them to entertain me.  With five kids and no dryer my mom didn’t have enough time to keep up with the laundry let alone entertain any of us.  I would have gotten lucky to get off with a small bop up side the head. 

Also now that those small human types have begun to speak and understand speech I have discovered that I have a bit more of a potty mouth than I thought.  I mean I’ve never been adverse to dropping the occasional “F” bomb, but now when I have it repeated to me by a tiny little person it isn’t all that cool.  So the kidlet has decided that instead of saying, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”  It will be a lot better for us to say, “Oh for quack sakes.”  Or, “What the quack? “  So from now on it will be WTQ? 

Anyway I had better go and wrap some presents for the upcoming festivities.  I should but I think I’m not feeling very well I think I might be coming down with Dutch Elm disease so I may not be able to go. 

 

 

Christmas Eve 2012

When I was a kid Christmas Eve was the pretty much "The Best Day of the Year" it even outshone Halloween in my books.  My parents were first generation immigrants from the old country so consequently they celebrated Christmas the way they did back home.  That meant no Santa Claus, but the good old Christmas Angel that came on Christmas Eve.  All of us kids were carted off to the grandparents house for the day and when we returned our house had gone through a miraculous transformation.  A tree stood lit up and decorated in the corner, presents burgeoned under it, the smell of roast turkey and home made bread wafted through the house.  It verged on a religious experience for us. 

After the first initial excitement of coming home to "Christmas Land" we all stood in front of the tree with our arms around each other and sang, Mennyből az angyal, which means an angel from heaven.  Then the song goes on about the usual manger, shepherds, the baby Jesus, and other typical Christmas-y type references.  I think I knew the first verse then after that I just did "fake it, fake it, fake it," most of it was over my head, plus by that point I was getting a little impatient about the whole opening the presents scenario.  Because you see in our house after the singing, came the hugging, and the kissing each other, then the diving into the presents and opening all of them right there and then.  Then after spending a good five or six minutes with our loot we were hauled away to feast on bird, stuffing, and all the other fixings.  Yummy.  And usually it didn't take much convincing as the grandparents didn't feed us too much all day so we were rather like the ravenous bug bladder beasts of Trall.   

Of course the whole irony of the song was completely lost on me as a kid as we were not exactly what you would call a religious family.  In fact we were more of the exact opposite to the nth degree.  I'm pretty sure if my parents hadn't have been so wrapped up in "the tradition" they may have considered changing the song to something a lot more worthy like, Imagine, or All You Need Is Love, or if it were up to my dad, How Much is That Doggy in the Window, he was a huge Doris Day fan.  Or if it was up to my mom it might have been Cow, Cow Baby by the Diamonds.  (Later on I discovered that the song is actually called Cool, Cool Baby.  English wasn't her first language.) 

Anyway what brought on this whole reminiscing thing about Christmases past was the fact that me and Sunny McJingles (hubby's elf name) took the kid, and the poop brigade, out to the back forty and cut us down a Christmas tree this afternoon, then brought it in and decorated it.  When I posted that bit of information on Facebook I had a few people comment that I shouldn't even bother with a tree this year.  Pa-shaw I say to that. Trees are supposed to go up on Christmas Eve and come down on New Year's day.  Tradition!  Tradition! 

The kid was a tad bit disappointed that tree getting was relatively quick and painless this year, she distinctly remembers going out with the Hubby and having to wade through chest deep snow, or jump from long foot step, to long foot step, trying to keep up to her dad's meters long steps (he is six foot two) and wander ten kilometers in minus 30 degrees uphill (both ways) to get the tree.  This year...no snow...five minute quad ride...tree 25 meters off the trail...sawed down in seconds...five minute quad ride home.  Done and done.  Oh the humanity!  Although I'm not sure exactly what she is whinging about because she has been cackling gleefully every time she gets another report of the three meter high snowbanks, and minus forty temperatures, in the town she has just moved away from.  Me thinks that deep down inside she is truly missing the snow and the cold, even though she is adamant that she is not. 

Although technically it is Christmas Eve tonight we won't be doing the actual Christmas thing today, or tomorrow, as we are waiting for Blinky Candy-Lips (the kidlet's hubby...his elf name) to fly home from work sometime before the end of the year.  My elf name is Peppy Sugar-Socks for those who care to know.  Although I feel more like Sugar Peppy-Socks...or Socky McBunnykins.  Either way I am all mellowed out, and pepped up, from the Bailey's and coffee I have been imbibing in tonight. 

Here is the shortest and youngest member of the poop brigade checking out the tree situation in the back forty. 

The Hobbit of the Ring

The jury is still out on The Hobbit, so I guess that means, in my world anyway, that I am pretty much "meh" with it.  I was pretty okay with the way that Jackson tried to tied in the LOTR with it at the beginning, having Bilbo and Frodo have a little discussion then whoosh, flashback.  It certainly didn't make me want to start screaming and tear my hair out.  He did a kick ass job with the Unexpected Party, although I thought that the original details about Bilbo's feelings were a lot better than the new and improved Jackson ones.  The trolls were done pretty well, but again, I thought that the original method of keeping the trolls talking until the sunrise would have worked better. Radagast was good, he did get a couple of tiny mentions in the books. Rivendell was okay, I didn't even mind pulling Sauruman and Galadriel in for a conference, as the kid pointed out the non-reading audience members kind of needed some back fill of information.  I was okay with Riddles in the Dark, because really, who would have wanted to watch that entire transaction take place in pitch black...that wouldn't have been good movie fun. 

Things that picked my ass a bit though, and were wayyyyy over the top, were the stone giants, the fall into the goblin's basket from the front gate, the gratuitous killing of a billion goblins as they were trying to escape, the fall down the mile long shaft, and that new fucking character, Azog, on the big white warg. WTF is with that?  There is no need to add shit like this...it adds zero to an already excellent story line.  Jackson could have spent more time introducing all of the dwarves, and perhaps doing a bit of a back story on them if he wanted to fill in the time. 

I'm also a little bit unimpressed with the way he was trying to give it that "children's story feel" but also make it another version of the LOTR, all it seemed to do was make the kiddie lines seem really cheesy.  So the Old Shoes and Tea Society rating team has given The Hobbit six shoes laces out of ten. 

Hubby also would like to point out that the eagles should have taken everyone straight to the Lonely Mountain and saved everyone a whole whack of time just as they should have flown Frodo and Sam straight to Mount Doom.  So I guess he is speaking for the non-Hobbit-reading public. I told him that in the book the eagles are kind of crabby-assed and are not all that fond of dragging dwarf, hobbit, wizard, man, or elf arses around and they told them that in no uncertain terms.  Perhaps a detail that Mr. Jackson could have mentioned. 

Impatiently Waiting

I’m very excited, very excited because tomorrow is the day I get to go and watch the Hobbit. Now for anyone who knows me I am a proud geek, I am a girl geek who loves the Hobbit, who loves the Lord of the Rings, who loves science-fiction and fantasy novels.  I’m not sure if it’s cool now days I know it certainly wasn’t cool when I was growing up. Maybe there are a lot more girls that are geeks now days I’m not sure, but I sure hope so. I’ve heard both good things and bad things about The Hobbit, but as usual I will have to make up my own mind. My hope is that Mr. Jackson didn’t go too overboard with trying to make it exactly the same LOTR. You see the difference between the Lord of the Rings, and The Hobbit, is that The Hobbit was written as a children’s book whereas the Lord of the rings is more of an adult book. So the concern is that he is going to try to make The Hobbit less like the book and more like what he thinks that an audience is going to want to see based on his previous work. But I guess I have to wait a day and see. 

In the meantime today is a pretty crappy day out there. It was blowing and raining all night long. But this morning it started snowing and it’s been pretty much snowing off and on all day long. The temperature is sitting at around zero so the snow doesn’t know if it wants to be snow or if it wants to be rain. The wind is blowing and the snow/rain/sleet is falling horizontally, which is not great when you’re considering going for a walk. But seeing as I have one of those four-legged mammals that needs to go out I guess I am going to have to pull out my rubber boots, dress myself up in something waterproof and head out to the back forty. Wish me luck.

Life As A Writer Who Is Human

Exciting news for old Iron Bess today, I've been asked to become a regular writer for a really cool site about the human experience, it is called Life As A Human.  Here is a link to my very first article for the site - http://lifeasahuman.com/2012/relationships/family/dads-are-supposed-to-know-what-they-are-doing-right/  It is a story, or more like a character study of my father.  If you read it you will know where I get a lot of my crazy from. 

Speaking of crazy...today's weather report is all about crazy, blowing wind, blowing water, and raining canines and felines out there today.  I spent the morning taking the shortest, and poopiest of the Poop Brigade to gymnastics this morning, so mother and daughter could go and enjoy the least poopiest in her very first Xmas concert.  The cuteness quotient was wayyyyyyy up there.  I've only seen a couple of seconds of the video clip, and as all performances of three and four year old children are, it was seriously an awwwwwwww moment. 

Meanwhile a bit across town I spent a couple of hours with the youngest, having an hour to kill and not wanting him to be stuck strapped in a car seat and watching a mind numbingly boring children's show on the DVD player I opted to take him to the mall.  Good call on my part!  Almost every single store was still closed up so I allowed, His Shortness, free rein to run up and down the hallways, climb on cars, trains, helicopters, motorcycles, and horses placed strategically around the mall to attract small children types and to separate the money from the wallets of parents and other guardians.  I opted not to put a loonie in the slots (good thing otherwise I would have had to immediately start a full time job to subsidize the outing) but he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.  Then we went to gymnastics where there were only two other tiny humans who showed up.  After charging around for a full ten minutes and falling approximately four thousand times His Shortness was ready for some serious instructions from the coach.

Coaching consisted of approximately three nanoseconds of attempting to get the wee ones to do something.   That was not happening, not at least without direct intervention from the guardians.  I managed to get my creature to crawl through a tunnel, crawl under a balance beam, and then pretend to hang on two rings which were held up by a piece of rope each.  High tech this place is not.  Then he got bored and spent most of the rest of the time trying to get to the only two places in the entire room where, a) he was not supposed to go, and b) where he could potentially hurt himself because they weren't covered in six inches of foam.  The other parental units spent most of their time lounging on thick pieces of foam and yelling instructions at their small humans who ignored them completely.

Fun times.   

Stack and Pile

A two day visit from the daughter and her Poop Brigade ended this morning.  Both the hubby and I were mentally exhausted by the time the munchkins left, yet again a reason to have children when you are very young because the older one gets the more it takes out of a person.  Crazy is the lady who waits until her forties to pop out a poop machine, or two.  Crazy and exhausted. The hubby kept saying that he did not know how the kidlet managed the wee ones on her own while her hubby is off working in the hinterlands of the USofA.   

In order to work off the mental exhaustion of watching two small humans whose only goal in life seems to be “how can I injure myself as quickly as possible, and what can I do to make sure I annoy everyone as much as possible before I do that”, we went out to the wood pile to split us some lumber.  The wood pile has grown a bit over the past week because we have been working on widening our new road on the swamp side of the back forty. Because of that activity we have poplar, oak, maple, pine, and some other unidentified trees in the mix.  Some are big assed logs, while others are more like poles, either way it has made our wood pile grow exponentially.  And happily we now have a pretty split, and stacked row awaiting the winds and sun to do their job and dry them out over the coming months.   

Last year while working on a different section of the road we also managed to cut a plethora of trees, but instead of bringing them out to the woodlot we had stacked and piled them beside the road and let them rest there until the spring, the process worked, but this year we are already ahead of the game by having them where they need to be in order to take the most advantage of wind and sun.  (Whew, that was a long sentence.)  If the weather continues to hold my hope is that we will manage to get another entire row split, and stacked, before the end of the week.  That would be happy days!  Last year we lucked out because we didn’t get a bunch of snow so consequently we were able to take advantage of the thick ice on the swamp and cull a few hardwood trees from there.  If the same situation happens this year we may actually get ALL of our wood for next year split, stacked, and piled.  How amazingly brilliant would that be?  Now if I could just win that lottery before next fall I could hire someone to haul it into the basement for me.  I hate, loathe, despise, abhor, detest, and abominate that part.  And I don’t like it very much either. 

Tarred

Yep I'm tarred this afternoon, in fact so tired that I am feeling all sleepy like.  I'm not exactly sure what is up with me these days but my body is making me wake up between five and six every morning.  How annoying is that?  One of the reason's I took early retirement was because I was sick of getting up at 4:30am every day.  Of course my situation today is slightly different, I definitely don't have to drive through mountain passes dodging deer, elk, and sheep every day. All I have to do is get up shuffle slowly into the living room and build myself a small fire, then wander into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil for tea. Oh and I also don't have to spend 12 hours at work sitting behind my desk working on things that I'd rather not work on. I can just spend hours if I want to wasting time playing on my iPad.

Of course, it's not just getting up early today that is making me tired, me and my trusty little chainsaw were out cutting up soon pretty substantial trees this afternoon. Some of the trees were so big that my chainsaw bar wouldn't go all the way through, so sometimes it felt like I was actually using the chainsaw like it was an actual handsaw, just hacking back-and-forth trying to get through the wood.

Not sure which part of my body is worse or more sore as as the case may be.  . My arms are feeling all shaky like, my butt is feeling all pulled-like, and my back is just not feeling great in fact it feels like I should be getting a massage just for being brave enough to tackle a ginormous tree. But I don't think there is anybody kicking around giving away free massages for this chickie-poo.

Well I'm off to grab something to eat then maybe laze around and play with my iPad, and then possibly watch a movie before going to la-la land.  Oh and just as a note, voice to text straight onto this blog site is craptastic.  It works a hell of a lot better straight onto Word then copy and paste onto this site. 

Practicing With Speech Recognition

I received my speech to text program in the mail today this is the one that I paid for. I have to admit it’s 100 times better than the free app I downloaded on my iPad. So I’m sitting here trying it out and feeling very self-conscious. It is definitely weird talking at the computer screen instead of typing. I’m conditioned to watch the words appear on the screen while my fingers are actually the ones doing the talking not my mouth. It’s really difficult to think this way. It is definitely going to be one of those things that I’m going to have to get used to.

 

It’s funny I thought I was pretty articulate, but this program has shown me that I’m a lazy speaker. Another thing this has shown me is that when I speak and I reread what is down on the page then I don’t see the mistakes. It is definitely something that is going to take a bit to get used to.

 

Anyway I guess this is enough for tonight. I will work on my, speech to text, writing skills a little bit more tomorrow morning. Good night all.

Porn Be Gone!

I have a question for all those people out there who are creating porn sites, don't you have enough money already?  Aren't there zillions of people already paying you so they can sit in front of their computers and breathe heavily while fantasizing about things which will never happen to them?  Can't you leave the rest of us alone?  Tonight I logged onto one of the blogs that I read all the time and read the first sentence when suddenly I was looking at a really skanky porn site.  My first thought was WTF just happened?  I thought for a second that I had somehow inadvertently hit the wrong key and ended up somewhere that I really did not want to be.  Then I remembered my daughter telling me that her husband had sent a link of her blog to his mother and when she clicked on it she was directed to a really skanky porn site.  And although that is sort of funny it also starts to indicate a pattern to me.  Someone must be spending a lot of time trying to figure out how to connect people to these sites when they have no intention of going there.  I know that, that kind of technology costs money, which brings me back to my original question....don't you people have enough money?  Why spend more money trying to entice more customers, don't you have enough already? 

Does this mean that now not only do I have to get anti-virus protection on my computer, but I also have to get anti-pornography protection as well?   Sigh.....arrrrgggghhhhh.....grrrrrrrrrrrr! 

Merry Freakin Xmas Cookies

Holy Toledo!  I spent over six hours yesterday doing Xmas baking with the kid and feel as if someone beat me with a bag of oranges...frozen oranges.  Standing and mixing, rolling, cutting, and baking for that many hours is hard on the legs.  Thankfully I was wearing a pair of my daughter's Crocs otherwise I wouldn't have been able to stand up today at all. 

This morning we went at it again so now we have butter tarts, pumpkin tarts, sugar cookies, shortbread cookies, ginger cookies, and piggies in blankets all bagged and in the freezer.  It is nice to have company while doing this work; last year when I was being all Dora Domestica I only had the radio as company and consequently ended up massively depressed from listening to all the bad things the news always had to report all day long.  This time around we listened to Xmas carols and chatted about books, grandma, religion, politics, the weather, old friends, new friends, kids, school, more books, and more books.  We also spent a lot of time doing the following - 

Me: Get your butt back upstairs!  Go play with your toys. 

Kid: If I have to come up there someone is going to get a spanking!  Mom what else should I add to this?

Me: Can you pour a teaspoon of milk in this mix?  Leave your brother alone!  Do you want grandma to give you a spanking? 

Kid: Get out of this kitchen right now, and take your brother with you.  Go play with your toys or I'm putting you to bed.  Can you get the oven door for me mom?

Me: That consistency looks perfect, just stir it a bit more.  Scooter do NOT touch that it's hot!  Out! 

Ah the joyfulness of the holiday season. 

Beavers R Us

I seriously cannot believe how much my body is seizing up from the tiny bit of chainsawing that the hubby and I did today.  I could understand it if I was the hubby, seeing as his chainsaw only weighs about three times as much as mine.  I would have to start weight lifting for five weeks before I could just pick his up and hold it out for five seconds, let alone having to use it.  Mine is teeny, tiny and it still weighs a few more pounds then I like. 

Sigh.....sigh....I can't believe how out of shape I am.  What happened to the girl who could go for a ten k run then spend an hour at the gym without having to have a nap afterwards?  Oh well, I guess that regiment of lying around playing on my iPad isn't helping me with my fitness level.  So it is back to the old work out routine for me unless I want to get used to feeling, and looking, like Jabba the Hut. 

Walking Company

It was a cold winter's day this morning on my walk to the back forty, the wind was blowing and tiny flakes were dancing between creaking boughs, and rustling grass. I decided to spend the majority of time under the cover of the trees because the wind wasn't making it pleasant to be out in the open, so I strolled around, through, back, forth, up and down on my property.  Leaves crunched under my feet filling the air with that tangy, slightly moldy smell which I associate with autumn.  Me and the dog managed to scare up four partridge which had been hanging out together in a small scrub.  Happily I didn't have my usual heart attack when they leapt into the air right beside me, perhaps I am starting to get inured to the jumpy beasties. 

My walk was chilly and pleasant, and to be honest a tad bit odd, the whole time I was wandering around following all the trails and roads it almost felt as if my mom was there.  Which is extremely strange for several reasons, to begin with she just passed away in August, so it is highly unlikely that she would be skulking around in the trees, especially because she has been cremated.  And second, even if one would buy into the whole spirits hanging around thing, I know for a fact that my mom has never been in the back forty.  She always talked about wanting to come back and see it because of the way I would wax poetic about my land, but she never got around to it.  And third, she was a teeny, tiny little thing and even had she been in the best of health wouldn't have ever been able to keep up with my somewhat large, moose-like strides.  Plus she is still sitting in my closet in a small box waiting for the day I set her free floating over a mountain in the Rockies. 

But nevertheless she was very much on my mind during my walk this morning.  And if she is hanging out and haunting me for once she did not tell me to remember my hat, change my pants, pull up my sock, or brush my hair before heading out the door.  The afterlife must be mellowing her out. 

Wettings

Oh boy, today is a wet, wet day.  Actually I should clarify that, this afternoon is a wet, wet day.  This morning it was just kind of dampish.  I took the hell hound for a walk in the back forty this morning and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It sprinkled a bit off and on but I stayed mostly under the trees and didn't end up a drowned rat.  It's a good thing I did go this morning because it is coming down in buckets now.  So I walked, and walked, and wrote, and wrote.  Well wrote in my head...hmmmm...maybe I should have brought my iPad with me and tried that speech to text app I used for my post yesterday. 

That speech to text app was a pretty funny post though.  I don't know if it was me being a dork as I was talking, or if the app was a bit confused.  I guess I can't complain seeing as it was free.  I'd like to try a real program of speech to text to see if it will work better.  I've done a little bit of research on it and it looks promising.  My biggest concern though is my ability to write by speaking, I'm so used to letting my fingers do the talking for me.  I also found with my few practice runs with the speech to text thing I was feeling slightly self conscious about it. Okay a LOT self conscious about it.  I feel like I am talking to myself, and I am.  Perhaps it would work better if I propped hubby up beside me and talked.  I'm sure he would love that! 

App speech to text

So it's really morning here at Kiku states and I'm sitting here with a nice little fire and waiting for the send. It's a beautiful morning in terms of temperature and in terms of the fact that you don't have snow on ground which I think. And I'm also trying a new app Which changes speech to text and the app is free so it's going to be interesting mother works. 

Hubby is sleeping I just had to feed the cat because she is acting Wright inseam is as it Doublewoods crawling up her butt. I like the dog outside and then another dog inside dog outside and done inside before I decided to stop that game.


Ha ha this is pretty funny it's almost like Likea AutoCorrect after you've typed with not really paying attention to what you're doing. So the stuff that this thing is coming up this is completely crazy. For example

Before about the Doublewoods I don't know where that came. Maybe it's commandments they talking techmedia think I'm saying right things in fact I'm not.

Merry Hollypundia

If anyone has been on Facebook lately, or any other areas of social media, you may have noticed how it is being inundated by these huffy, offended, bad-tempered, over sensitive updates from people who are traumatized about what people are calling the holidays?  At first I was all “meh” about it and ignored them because frankly I don’t give a flying rat’s ass about it.  But lately it just seems like everyone is jumping on the whole say, Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays thing, and getting all hostile about it.   

Which got me wondering if in fact there actually is some kind of movement out there that I was not aware of which is pushing the world away from saying Merry Christmas and trying to make everyone change to the generic greeting Happy Holidays.  I’ve seen these posts a few times in the past few years but this year it just seems to have escalated and it piqued my curiosity, and being who I am I had to do some investigations into it.  My first step was to peruse the news links.  It turned up nada.  Then I checked out Snopes, which reports that this is an urban myth which has been circulating since the 1970’s and the fact is that the whole push to get the government to change the wording by nefarious atheist groups is a total fabrication.  I then checked out some of the more high profile atheist sites who I thought may actually advocate something like this and only turned up a few comments about Christians getting huffy about Christmas greetings.  Then I went to some of the Christian sites and bingo I hit jackpot, on some sites there is a veritable hornet’s nest of commotion about it.  So ultimately what I learned is that the people who are bitching and complaining about it the most, and making a big hairy deal out of it, are actually the ones who are creating the issue in the first place.   

Obviously the ironic aspect of the whole thing is that Christians actually don’t even have dibs on the season to begin with.  Long before Christianity this holiday has been celebrated for centuries by many different cultures and civilizations.  Many pagan cultures celebrated the winter solstice, the Feast of Juul was celebrated in Scandinavia, Saturnalia was celebrated by the Romans, the Wiccans called it Alban Arthan, the Mayan Indians honored the sun god they worshipped with a dangerous ritual known as the flying pole dance.  I could go on, but you get the picture.  So the next time someone gets their panties tied in a knot about the name you can wish them a Merry Hollypundia from the ancient Egyptians with a big helping of warm noodley goodness from the Flying Spaghetti Monster! 

 

Home Again

Well here I am I managed to survive the week, and so did everyone else.  Yipee.  The Poop Brigade has been handed back to the parental units and I am now back at home with hubby and hell hound in tow.  It was a busy, busy week making sure that the munchkins did not a) kill themselves, b) become malnourished, or c) beat each other into bloody pulps (and let's face it, d) did not get sold off to the highest bidder because that could be a very real danger with Iron Bess when she gets annoyed.)  They were cute, adorable, loving, busy, annoying, sticky, loud, poopy and full of energy.  All in all I think it was quite a feat for me to accomplish. 

Which makes me realize that I am very happy not being a full time custodian of little people at this stage of my life.  They just take up wayyyyyy too much of a person's time and energy, even when one is not directly interacting with them.  I am far too fond of having my own space for long periods of time.  And I know this may not be a good thing to admit because it probably goes against some kind of female code of ethics, but I don't think that I am a natural care giver, or liker of little people.  I think I may have missed out on that gene when being built.  My mom was such a huge fan of the little ones that I think she may have gotten a double dosage of it and didn't have any left over to pass it on to me.  She used to get all gushy around them and coo at them and be all maternal and sigh with regret when they went away.  Me not so much. 

I'm still looking for a part time job and I can honestly say that I will be able to scratch Day Care Worker off the list. 

Life With the Poop Brigade

Today is day three, or is that day four with the Poop Brigade.  So far, fingers crossed, knock on wood, don't step on a crack, spin three times in a circle and count to ten, all is quiet on the western front.  (Well technically this is the eastern front.) The kids have been good, well goodish.  One or two melt downs but that is to be expected from a three year old and a one year old.  The oldest one has asked where mom is about once a day and seems satisfied when I tell her that she is still on her trip.  The youngest, and by far poopiest, seems satisfied to accept me as a surrogate mom. 

I've done a few things to make life a bit easier for myself.  First I packed up about three thousand small bits and pieces of toys, which is about 3/4's of what they actually have to play with, and put them downstairs so I wouldn't have to spend two additional hours a day picking that shit up.  So far neither of them have noticed anything unusual or missing, and are quite contented with the remaining crap.  Second I took the Tent of Death and put that downstairs with the rest of the toys.  The oldest one decided to carry it out of the play room for the hundredth time and went ass over tea kettle down the stairs.  Lucky for her I was just coming up to yell at her about it for the hundredth time and was there to catch her before she did serious damage to herself.  And third, I have been making sure that they are hydrated, fed, and clean the majority of time.  Well clean when they are in the house at any rate. 

Actually the dogs have been more of a pain in the butt then the kids.  Which reminds me, Thing One and Thing Two are both sleeping, the sun is shining, so instead of sitting here and typing I will leave hubby in charge and go for a walk. 

Day One

Today was day one without my coffee.  I survived.  In fact, it wasn't anywhere near as sad as I thought it was going to be.  (Yes I said sad and not bad...)  In fact, I didn't even think about it.  I had tea, and another cup of tea, and another cup of tea.  It was all good.  Although I did go pee, and then go pee, and then go pee some more.  So yay me. 

Tomorrow is the last day of classes which will make me a bit sad.  :(  I have rather been enjoying my weekly stint out of town to hang out with some like minded people, and enjoy getting out of my comfort zone, as well as doing some writing which is also out of my comfort zone.  All in all it has been a very enjoyable ten weeks. 

Next week will be a week that will test my mettle as a guardian of little bitty, sticky, and sometimes smelly people.  Yes you heard it here first folks, I will be babysitting the Poop Brigade all by my onesies for an entire week.  Hmmm, I wonder what the going rate is on the black market for two little blond haired, blue eyed babies these days?  "Be good kiddies or it will be scientific experiments for you!"

I wonder if it was a good idea to go off the bean just before?  Well at least I didn't give up the rum!

A Need a Good Camera

Today would have been a kick-ass day to have a great camera.  The lake was covered in this thick mist, the fog was so heavy that the bush looked like it had cotton batten stuck to it.  Man the pictures I could have taken! I'm 73.2% sure that I would right now be sitting on a picture worth millions, well maybe hundreds of thousands, at any rate a lot of money. 

Yesterday as I was puttering around the kitchen doing Dora Domestica stuff and I happened to notice the sunset being all blood red and having the wow factor.  Then I continued to putter around some more before that thought eventually lead to "Hey I should grab a camera and take a picture of it."  Which I did, but by the time I got out there the sunset wasn't quite as spectacular, and now as I am looking over the pictures the first three were all fuzzy and crappy.  The last two were a little more crisp but by then the sunset was just plain old sunsetty...and less than spectacular, but you are still getting a picture of it.  Seeing as I went to all that trouble and everything.  But don't expect too much because my camera just seems to be taking craptastic pictures these days. 

Coffee the Elixir of the Gods

Why oh why does coffee have such a hold over me?  For the life of me I do not understand it.  I remember vividly how much I despised the stuff as a child.  Of course truth be told it was probably because of the way my dad use to drink it, two heaping spoonfuls of instant coffee, five heaping spoonfuls of sugar, and a dash of milk.  It was disgusting, repulsive, revolting, and nauseating.  It was also yucky.  For some reason the sweet tea he drank wasn’t nearly as gross to me so I was okay drinking that.  The irony of it is that because of my dad’s hot beverage preferences today I drink both without sugar.   

As I sit here typing and sipping on my coffee, which I can’t seem to get enough of, I contemplate why it has such a hold over me.  It is bitter, although not as much since I started using cream in it again, it makes a fidgety person even more fidgety, and anyone who knows me knows that I do not need help with my fidgetiness.  It makes me want to eat cake, or at least a good chocolate chip cookie or twelve.  And seeing as I managed to put on twenty one pounds while stress eating through my mom’s illness, and then death, I’m pretty sure that my cake and chocolate chip cookie days should be left well behind me.   

Yesterday I was sitting in the living room trying to warm up in front of the fireplace and playing a bubble game on my iPad when it occurred to me that I had been playing that insipid game for almost an hour and a half and was wasting valuable time.  My best friend had been down the month before for my mom’s memorial service and showed me the game. It looked like fun so I loaded it up.  Unfortunately I’ve been playing it almost non-stop since then, so I decided to stop myself.  I certainly don’t want to develop another bad habit, so I deleted the game from my machine.  Problem solved.   

This of course leads me to the thought that if I can be tough on myself with some things then why can’t I do it with others?  Such as coffee?  Even if it is the elixir of the gods.  Dam Flying Spaghetti Monster and his twisted sense of humour.  Obviously the answer is that I can.  According to Eckhart Tolle it is my ego that is trying to control me.  Dam ego; the insidious bastard!  So I have decided, starting tomorrow, I will once again be off the bean for two months.  I can’t start today because I just brewed this pot of coffee and I don’t want it to go to waste.  ;p

 

The Iron Bess Rules for Going Beanless

1.       Coffee will be permitted one day a week.

2.       On those days where Bess drinks coffee it will be limited to two cups (not pots).

3.       Tea will be an acceptable substitute for hot beverages. 

4.       Allow myself one regretful thought about not drinking coffee, but follow it up with five thoughts about how much better life is without it. 

5.        Rejoice in the fact that I control my ego not the other way around!!!!!!

Baby She's Cold Out There

It certainly got a bit chilly out there last night.  We didn't get any snow but the frost was thick on the ground.  I hate to say it, being the winter hating girl that I am, but it sure was purdy this morning being all sparkly like.  Typically I would be getting into the depressed, woe is me, winter is coming doldrums around this stage but some days I can't but help marvel at how beautiful the world can still be at all times of the year.  I'm sure I will get over that sentimentality once we have our first snowfall.  (And no you cannot point out to me when I wax poetic about how lovely the branches look with the snow on them how much of a hypocrite I am.)

Yesterday I put life and limb into jeopardy and took the hell hound for a walk in the afternoon.  We were all decked out in our fluorescent orange, hunters please don't shoot me because I am not a deer, outfits and wandered around for an hour but still sticking close to the house.  Most recently I've been taking Spanish lessons while going for my walks, but yesterday I spent the time working on a story I have brewing in my head.  So instead of sounding like a dork saying, "perdon senor entiende ingles?" out loud to the trees, and underbrush, I was saying things like, She stood shivering in the afternoon light, not from cold, but from fear and confusion...Hmmm...is she confused or just truly screwed up in the head because of what just happened to her?  Lucky for me I live in the sticks and there isn't anyone around to call the men with the funny jackets and padded trucks. 

Today the hubby is all gungho about going out and cutting up some trees.  "Come on," he says as he tries to get me motivated.  "It will use up some calories and get those flabby arms into shape."  Oh yeah that's motivating.  It motivates me to want to smack him up the side of the head with a neon orange glove, or kick his skinny hiney with a neon orange rubber boot. 

We have a saying here at the Old Shoes and Tea Society, "Don't piss old Iron Bess off before she had her morning coffee or you may not wake up again until next week." 

But putting my violent thoughts aside I will in fact pick up my trusty little chain saw and stealthily sneak up on a maple, or poplar, and pretend I am from Texas, but not until I've had another cup of coffee. 

How to Perform Phone Sex in One Easy Lesson

I just got off the phone after getting sucked into taking a survey about natural, organic, free range, vegan foods which have died naturally surrounded by singing angels in a loving environment and I'm feeling a bit violated.  You see typically I am not a fan of talking on the phone so normally when someone asks me to take a survey I quickly press the disconnect button. 

I will make exceptions for some people, but if I were to use my fingers to count those people I would not use all the digits up on one hand. 

The following is an example of conversations which I don't mind -

Me: Hi
Caller: Hi.  What time are we meeting for linedancingogratingballhoops?
Me: I booked townhall for twelvity clock.
Caller: Okay see you there.  Bye.
Me: Bye.

Short, to the point, and no long awkward pauses. 

On the other hand I hate feeling pressured into having to carry on conversations because if I didn't it would just end up with the two of us breathing at each other until our receivers got all steamy.  That's just plain old phone sex and frankly I've had all the phone sex I can take.

Of course there are even worse types of calls, people I don't know, but who think they know me. 

Me: Hi.
Schoolmate I haven't spoken to in thirty years: HI!  OMG I can't believe I finally got a hold of you on the phone.  I've been calling, and calling, and calling, and you've never picked up before. 
Me: Yeah my caller ID isn't working.  Who did you say it was?
Schoolmate: It's me silly, Jenna-Jean Pink-Pants-Backstabber, remember we used to sit in the same classroom in kindergarten.  I was the one who always showed off her underpants to the boys.
Me: No.
Schoolmate: Don't you remember we once wore the same colour pants on the same day?  My mom was so traumatized that she burned all my clothes.
Me: Um...no. 
Schoolmate: Anyway it's so great hearing your voice and I can't believe we get to catch up this way.  By the way I was wondering how much I could put you down for a donation to pay for my daughter's bible college...
Me: Click.
Schoolmate: Hello?  Hello? 

You see I used to work for a big company in Materials Management, first as a buyer, then as a Purchasing Agent and essentially being a buyer/agent means spending a LOT of time on the phone.  And when I say a LOT I mean A LOT!  I have spent more time than any human being should ever spend speaking to other human beings.  Five life times worth.  Karma will probably bring me back as a mute in the next lifetime and then deaf for the next after that.

Unfortunately almost all that time on the phone involved....salesmen. Yeech. (Karma will be bringing those guys back as cockroaches.)

Salesmen speak - You are so lucky we happen to have a sale on for the nosepickingenometer which you are calling about for 75% off but the sale ends today.

Real Meaning - Wow I can't believe someone is calling about this piece of crap that I was about to throw away, it's worth nothing but I will see if I can get her to pay me thousands of dollars by not giving her time to think about it. Plus she is a woman and consequently stupid. 

Salesman speak - Me love you long time so this offer is only exclusive to you my favourite of all favourite buyers who is pretty, and smart, and talented, and who I want to marry and have children with. 

Real Meaning - I will make sweet, sweet love to you over the phone therefore you will buy anything from me because you are a woman and not too bright.  And in no way, shape, or form will you feel violated after I am done with you.  Not until I actually am done with you that is and have taken bilked you out of a fortune.

These days most of my social activities involve email, or Facebook.  Those options are a joy to yours truly, Ms. Antisocial Introvert.  My favourite button these days is the, Ignore, when Jenna Pink-Pants or her ex husband Marvin Slimy-Toad sends me a friend request.  Although I do have to admit that I wasn't always this particular, in fact, when I first got onto Facebook I was somewhat naive and I happily allowed all and sundry through who wanted to be my friend, but after one too many - Click, Like, if you heart rainbow coloured bunnies who love Jesus and eat pink crayons - and I was done.  Now I am much more particular who I Friend.  (When did friend become a verb anyway?)

But to tell the truth I would still pick the pink crayon eating, Jesus loving, bunnies over most phone conversations because there is this other button that allows you to Block Updates...or better yet, Unfriend! 

I Axed You Where It Was

Hubby informs me that I have to write a little blurb in here saying that I could not find the small hatchet that I bought for chopping kindling, and he did.  He is feeling very vindicated, most especially after reading my post about him searching for his nudgemashtacator and how I was all about saying that he looks like a man then blames me so I will start looking for it.  The truth is that I did not find it.  The truth is that it was in fact in the closet where he said it would be.  The truth is that after looking and not seeing I went in search in other places.  But let me add a few more tidbits that also may come into play here.  1) It was in the closet, up on the top shelf, far in the corner.  2) The fact that he knew it was in the closet and I didn't may possibly mean that I was not the person who put it there.  3) He is six foot three, I am not.  He can see up in higher places a little easier than me. 4) Even if it all boils down to me being unable to find it that would mean that in the thirty some odd years we have been together torturing each other, Me - 2, Hubby - 44,671.  I rest my case. 

Hubby also indicated that he was against receiving a pirate name for these posts.  He doesn't like any of the ones I've come up with to date.  Hmmm, methinks that hubby is starting to get a little bit big for his non-pirate britches and starting to dictate a little too much of what I can, should, and can't be blogging about.  Maybe hubby should start his own blog, that way he can write whatever the hell he wants.  Maybe his name should be Meddling Marvin of the Seven Sticking Your Nose Into Places Where It Doesn't Belong Seas. 

So...sigh...today is drizzly and cold, gone are the plus 21 degree days.  Which means I will have to dress like a Nipper-Snipper today when I go for my walk.  Yesterday we cut some of the pine we have been letting dry all summer and it turned out to not be so dry.  It was a pretty big assed tree that got blowed down this spring and we figured that it would make great kindling.  But the chunks we had split it into obviously weren't small enough because when we put it in the splitter oozy stuff came out.  So we decided to split it up to smaller and smaller pieces then stack it in the basement where it will have a better chance of drying out, most especially now that it isn't raining inside but it is raining outside.  Good thing we did that yesterday cause today the rain would have washed away our hopes, and crashed our dreams on the shores of disappointment. 

I've decided to apply for a couple of on-line writing jobs so I will be spending the afternoon writing up my bio.  (Hahahahaha...the person who reads it may be able to use it as a sleeping aid unless I manage  to insert some humour into it.)  I also have to submit a couple of sample pieces, so I will be polishing up a few things I have kicking around.  I hope I can actually do that because typically when I polish stuff I get seriously caught up in the nuances which usually results in me eventually having to have a really strong rum and coke to settle my nerves.  So either we can raise a mug of grog together and celebrate, or we can raise a mug a grog together and commiserate.

Asshats and Other Hairy Beasts

Have I mentioned the fact that my cat is an asshat?  You see old Iron is a tiny, teeny bit not liking hairy, purring things hanging out on her bed.  (Thought I would throw in the purring part there just so you understand that it's not the hubby we are talking about here.  Not that he doesn't purr, he just doesn't do it in bed, usually it is reserved for occasions when the tractor is running particularly well, or if he finally got the goblabster working after friking for hours with the narkling crank chamber.) 

I figure I have enough hair to deal with the three times I have to sweep the floor because the short and furries haven't figured out that when it starts getting toward the fall/winter time of the year it would be best to hang onto their hair so they don't freeze their asses off.  But no.  Fall to them means that they have to start shedding even more.  Where was I?  Oh yeah furries in my bed.  Anyway I am not a fan of cats hanging out on, in, or near my bed. 

So let me show you exhibit A.  Methinks that perhaps some cat of the small, black, and furry kind may have left some clues that she is in fact an asshat. 

 

 

As I may have mentioned yesterday the temperatures were warm and I was loving it.  Today, well today was just crazy.  It wasn't warm, it was hot.  Like take off your jacket and run around in your bra hot.  Hot enough for me to say, "WTF?"

 

Me - Is it really this hot?

 

Hubby -  Yup.

 

Me - Did we somehow actually end up hibernating and sleep through the winter?  I know I've been threatening to do that, but really?

 

Hubby - It's hot. 

 

Me - But did we sleep through the winter?

 

Hubby - (sigh) Let's go make some kindling. 

 

Me - Seems kind of redundant now, what with it being summer and all.  

Holy Crap On A Cracker

I really, really, really hate starting these posts with a weather report but I can't help it today.  It got to 20 degrees of the Celsius kind here.  Like spring.  Like summer.  Like wow man.  Global warming of the best kind.  It was beautiful and warm and lovely and sunny and all kinds of other things related to warm weather in November. 

The poop brigade, the kidlet, two dogs, and me went for a stroll in the back forty.  Unfortunately the youngest didn't quite do that well seeing as all he wanted to do was nap.  The oldest was wired for sound, and the dogs were like crazy things screaming back and forth through the bush.  But hell, it was a nice day and even though short and whiny, and short and hairies were trying their best to put a damper on things it wasn't happening.  This kind of weather is a gift from the weather faerie at this time of year so a body has to take advantage of it when it comes along. 

Yesterday hubby and I were out with our trusty chainsaws and cutting up some trees.  Man I sure could have used some of this weather then.  You see I sweat no matter what the temperature is when I do any kind of activity at all, even rolling over in bed, which means that when I stop even for a short break I am soaking wet, and if it is chilly I immediately start freezing.  Not fun.  Plus my safety glasses were constantly steaming up.  How safe can it be when you are using a high powered contraption with a lethal rotating blade on it and you can barely make out what you are cutting?  "Oh sorry.  Didn't see your leg there.  Quit your whining you have another one."  So had we waited until today I could have chainsawed (chainsawn?) in a Tshirt and sweated buckets-o-water all over the back forty, but when I dropped from dehydration I wouldn't have gotten cold.  That's all I am saying. 

Also note worthy - even though my back and ass were hurtin units after bucking up a few trees yesterday, today I was actually moving around with very minimal amounts of discomfort.  The way I figure it that is either a good sign, or it means I am on the way out as I can no longer feel anything below the neck.  Either way it was a warm day in these here parts and I'm not adverse to admitting that I loved it. 

Read At Your Own Risk, Foul Language Resides Here

Hallelujah the lost has been found!  The fluxmegatron loobesque bean grinder is back in the flock and all is right with the world.  Hubby found it in the lake.  Don't ask, I didn't.  So he is once again well ensconced in his deer blind where no doubt he is fidgeting and dreaming of better hunting days.  (Thank dog for fraking spell check this morning!  For the life of me I couldn't spell fidget.  It must be a sign.)

As I've mentioned earlier in this blog, my mom, who used to be an avid reader of my posts, passed away in August, so I kind of feel like I no longer have "Big Brother" watching while I'm writing.  I just get this urge now and then to type in a couple of fucks just because I know I won't have to listen to the lecture afterward.  The funny thing is that while she was alive I did feel restricted the whole time I was writing my blog and always thought that maybe I should start a super, secret, radical blog and not tell her about it and then I could write whatever my little heart desired.  Funny thing that.  Now that she is no longer being the, content police, my style and content haven't changed.  Plus it looks like I don't have radical, crazy, foul things to write about.  So perhaps she wasn't really the content police after all, maybe all that was just in my head.  Although she did admonish me for my language on occasion.  So if you will bear with me here - fuck, fuck, fuck.  Ah, I feel so much better now. 

Posting R Us

Hubby, or a.k.a., Frownin Fred is outside with a metal detector looking for a lost clip in the leaf covered grass.  Today is probably the first time ever in the history of our union where Frownin Fred did not accuse me of stealing, losing, or throwing away his lost item.  And the only reason he isn't accusing me of this dastardly deed is because the probability of me even having seen it in the past 20 years is so low that Fred hasn't got it in him to drag me into the interrogation room and question me under the bright lights.  I'm not quite sure how this works in his mind but whenever something goes missing around these here parts Frownin Fred immediately jumps to the conclusion that it was my doing. 

Hubby - I can't find my truck keys what did you do with them?

Me - I haven't touched your keys.

Hubby - Well they aren't where I always put them so consequently it is your fault. 

Me - Have you looked in your hands?

Hubby - Oh.  Here they are. 

********************

Hubby - What did you do with my fluxmegatron it isn't where I thought I left it?

Me - What is a fluxmegatron, and what do you use it for?

Hubby - (rolling his eyes) Obviously you use it to fark a waichmat before tightening the loobesque shot.  Don't you remember I used to use it all the time when Billy Bob Joe Dunce used to get his loobesque hooked in the bean grinder. 

Me - No. What does it look like.

Hubby - (rolling his eyes) Its round on one side and grey on the other and makes little ping, ping noises. 

Me - Oh that thing, I used it to clip the cat's claws. 

Hubby - Don't be a smart ass. 

************************

He ALWAYS  accuses me of taking his stuff, 98.5% of the time not only do I not take it but I haven't got a freakin clue what the hell he is looking for.  Typically I don't have those kinds of problems with my stuff because I do this really weird freaky thing when I use it, I put it back where I got it from.

I'm not really sure why he thinks I lose his stuff because I do the same freaky thing after using his crap as well.  Perhaps he thinks if he accuses me then I will get annoyed and start looking for it.  Of course that makes sense because typically I will find it because I look like a girl, and he looks like a boy.  Meaning I actually move shit around and look over, behind, under, beside, and on things.  Boys usually allow their gaze to sweep across the room before announcing loudly that it isn't anywhere in the room.  You're standing on it.  Sigh. 

Mouth Breather Will Be Shot On Sight

The post weather report for today was rain, rain, rain, rain, and more rain.  I drove to a small town about 35 minutes away this afternoon in the rain.  Then while in class I was listening to the rain fall onto, into, and around the building I was in.  On the way home it rained a LOT, and then once I got home it rained some more.  I think you get the picture.  It was damp. 

Anyway on my drive home I was listening to the radio and heard that many Republicans said that if Obama got elected they would be moving to Canada.  I said, "Hunh?"  Then they went on to say that there was no way that they could live in a country which promotes socialist medicine, Obama Care goes against everything that is right and decent in the world, so they threatened to pack up and move up north.  These people are obviously mentally challenged so not only should they be heavily medicated they should also be locked up for their own safety.  And for the safety of all Canadians they should also be made to wear identifying signs so when they approach the boarder they will be shot with a tranquilizer gun and returned to the point of origin. 

The immigration policy for Canada is that mouth breathers need not apply. 

Please Not The Cartoons, Anything But That

Today involved going to the city and doing a Costco run with the kidlet and the two screaming banshees.  The banshee most often associated with the majority of the screaming was the quiet one today.  The female banshee was wired for sound and hopped up on cocaine, or possibly over stimulated from playing with a tea set.  Seeing as she is three it would be safe to assume that it is the tea set, but based on her actions this afternoon I wouldn't rule out the possibility that a little bit of cocaine found its way into her pablum.  I wonder what would happen if some crushed up Valium were dumped into her sippy cup the next trip out?.  Not that I'm advocating drugging small baby types.  I would never do that.  Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. 

On the way into the city, the Mesmerizer, also known as, the Mesmetron, was on and the banshees were watching Beano & Toupee.  Please kill me now.  Is it me or do little kids shows suck so bad that you would actually rather hear said kids whining and sniveling more then listening to the crap that they've created to stop the whining and sniveling?  That's a close a draw as the US 2012 presidential polls were. 

Having spent the last thirty years or so not actually watching, listening to, or being around any of the cartoons they have created for children it has been a real eye opener.  If this world goes to hell in a hand basket I swear it's going to be because when this generation of children grow up they will have been warped.  And not in a good way. 

I'm An Earthling

I’ve decided on a title for a new book; Women Are From Earth, Men Are From Penis.  Seeing as I haven’t been able to come up with even a working title for the book I’m writing I thought if I came up with a title before I started my next one it would work out better. 

So here’s the premise, men come from the planet Penis.  They call themselves Dickwadians, well maybe it’s just the women that call them that, and instead of living in communities they live in penile colonies.  They call their moon Beaver, and fly in phallic shaped rockets and try to land them in the deepest hole where they try to mine for gems but actually just end up daydreaming all day.  The hubby thinks it is a kickass idea.  His exact words were, “That’s about as close to man’s psyche as you can get.” 

The hubby has featured on and off in this blog and I think I have to come up with a better name for him then “the hubby”.  Me thinks that he needs a pirate name.  A good one.  Like Iron Bess’s Man, or Sid the Parrotless, or Frownin Fred, or No Neck Nick.  I think I will try out a few and see how it rolls off the tongue, or the fingers, so to speak.   

So Frownin Fred went out hunting this morning.  Hunting here means sitting in a “blind” (see Bunch of crap leaning against a tree) and waiting quietly, and still, for an unsuspecting Bambi to wander by.  Ha-ha-ha!  If I know one thing about No Neck Nick staying still is not in his vocabulary, his genes, or his jeans.  This is the guy who will work himself to death, whine, snivel, and bitch about it, then when he has about four hours of rest immediately becomes restless and has to go out and build his self a gee-rage, or pour a concrete floor.  I’m thinking that Bambi may possibly be safe this year.  I’m sure he is out there right this minute dreaming of the days in the mountains when he could wander around the bush looking for game.  Sitting there must be killing him.  Poor Sid the Parrotless. 

 

Bess Contemplates Bizarro-Land

I was reading an article earlier this week about a police officer who was turned into the authorities by his estranged wife for planning on abducting, raping, torturing, killing and then eating a bunch of women.  He claims that it was just a fantasy and he wasn't going to act on it but when they seized his computer he had plans laid out, he had used the police records to obtain information about specific women, and he had lists of what he would need to carry out his "fantasy". And the article goes onto to say that there are a community of people on the Internet with those same desires.  A) What the hell kind of fantasy is that?  and 2) I have this theory about why people are so monumentally fucked up these days.  It is because we happen to live in the land of milk and honey.  Well not exactly milk seeing as there are a limited amount of cows wandering around our streets, and honey, well the bees may not be so thrilled knowing that we can eat whatever the hell we want, including each other, and somehow we are coveting their hard worked for supply of food.  And besides why is milk and honey so great anyway?  Why isn't the saying "the land of burgers and iPhones" or "coffee and cake"?  Hmmm, coffee and cake. Yum. 

Where was I again?  Oh yeah fucked up.  Okay so for millions of years mankind wandered around the planet hiding from almost everything (because we haven't exactly been endowed with the best defensive attributes) and looking under rocks for food.  Burger King was when we would stumble on a saber tooth's kill and manage to rip off a chunk of mammoth without becoming dessert.  Heat was huddling together in damp caves, and washing was when someone accidentally fell into the river and made it out without drowning.  So pretty much everyone spent all of their days skulking, stealing, and shivering, this left little time to be an asshole.  Flash forward a few millennium and you have kids who's one job may be to take out the garbage, or load the dishwasher, grown ups who go to work and stare at a computer screen all day, or put widget A into slot B, and you can see how things can go a little sideways.  People are bored and have too much time to indulge in all their bizarro-land fantasies.  Then other people realize that they could make a lot of money by developing games about this weird shit...and the cycle gets worse. 

It is pretty obvious to me how to fix the world's problems.  Scientists need to figure out how to bring back mammoths and saber tooth tigers.  Then instead of guns they could give everyone a spear, put them into a cave, and stripped down to their boxers.  Then poof, no more time to dream about chewing on someone's leg, coveting your neighbour's new car, or being bored on the couch.  People would have to band together for protection so the majority would have a chance at survival.  Pretty quickly the whiners who do not want to work together, or contribute so everyone has decent health care would be kicked out of the community and left as fodder for the beast. 

Well I'm off to fire up my little chainsaw to buck up some wood that got blowed down in the winds.  And I'm pretty sure while I am doing that I will be concentrating on the fact that my back is sore, my arms are aching, and how much this work will help heat Kitpu Estates next winter.  Not once will I be wondering how tasty the hubby's rump roast would be. 

Squeaky

Cleaning day today!  Well every day is a little bit of a cleaning day around these parts it has to be unless you don't mind living in forty feet of dog and cat hair that is.  I'm relatively certain that any calorie that my dog consumes goes directly into making fur for her body.  It has to otherwise the glut of hair covering every square inch of surface in the shack could only have sinister implications.  For instance aliens could be using it as a test to see how long it will be before old Iron Bess goes insane.  Or Satan has a hole leading straight from hell into my house and when the three headed dog sheds too much he just gets his minions to sweep it directly into my house.  Bastard! I knew there was a reason I should hate that asshole.  Fucking aliens.  Fucking Satan. 

My vacuum cleaner always smells like an old wet dog whenever I fire it up even if I had just changed the bag on it the time before.  I am looking forward to the day when we install the built-in vacuum and the air is shunted outside.  Let the neighbours put up with the stink.  The bonus today was that the temperatures were on the warmish side and I was able to open up all the doors and windows and allow the stink to get herded outside by the breezes passing through.  So now instead of dog it smells like fall in here. 

Now that I am done cleaning, and have dinner on the go, I may take some time and brew a pot of coffee and do a little bit of homework.  (I’d go for a walk except it is prime time for hunter madness outside at this time of the day, and seeing as I like my body a little less ventilated I think I will just stick around the premises.) 

A Lot Less Squishy

I just returned from a walk with the hell-houndicus and it is a lot less squishy out there.  The flood waters are receding and the roads/trails are starting to dry out a bit.  So I am pretty much "woo-hoo" about that.  But these days I have to be careful.  You see walking outside at this time of the year means me putting on my walking gear plus a neon orange vest and hat.  Even the houndicus has a glowing orange and yellow vest to wear.  Not only is it fashionable, but it is my paltry attempt at disguising myself as a human being and therefore not good to target practice on.   

You see around these here parts people are a little jumpy and shooty during hunting season.  And hunting season means losing control of all your faculties, going out into the bush, and being trigger happy to the point of thinking that every single object within a forty kilometer radius of your position is a legitimate deer so is filled with so much lead that civilizations for hundreds of years afterward will be sick from all that lead leaching into the drinking supply.  Although even if they did shoot you and got arrested for it they would probably get off because the judge would be all, "Well she was asking for it by going out onto her own property and walking around in the bush dressed up like a neon orange Sasquatch with matching hat.  Had she been more responsible and worn a large flashing sign above her head which read 'Do Not Shoot I Am Not A Deer' and hired a marching band to follow her around playing 'Paradise By The Dashboard Light' wherever she walked then I may have reprimanded you for shooting her."  It's not like there is any rules about being able to clearly see the animal and count the tines on its antlers.  Oh wait a minute....  No wonder the animals, and people, in these here parts are jumpy all year round.  (It's the tainted water.)

I had gone out for a walk just before, Sandy, or Sandzilla, the storm to storm all storms, hit the eastern seaboard and rained on it, and had taken a few pictures.  I really loved the look of the light on the leaves, it made me feel all squiggy inside. and all artsy outside.  I also added one with the hound in her fashionable attire because hey, there really aren't too many pictures a person can take around here without a large moose-like dog running through it.  (Unless of course you actually want the dog in the picture then it would be nowhere to be found.)

Click on to make bigga