Day Five

Today is day five without power at Kitpu Estates, hubby and Electrician Guy are busy finishing up the final work which needs to be done before Inspector Guy and Power Company Guys hook up power and we once again can go back to living in the 21st century.  In the meantime we have been relegated to living in what can only be referred to as "rustic".  Well perhaps not all that rustic seeing as I just packed a suitcase and moved in with the kidlet.  So actually I've been living in a more civilized manner than I am used to out at the ranch.  Here she has stuff like satellite TV, three bathrooms, and a washing machine which asks you which language you want to use when doing a load. 

There are a few life lessons which I learned while living here in the lap of luxury - 1) T.V. still sucks and I am not missing out in any way, shape, or form by not having it, 2) Dogs can literally spend hours, and hours munging each other and never get tired of it. 3) The kid and I never run out of things to talk about.  4) Those drops that the eye specialist put in your eyes to dilate your pupils which is only suppose to last for two hours last for around eight and give you a screaming headache. 5) You can NEVER get anything done with little tiny human beings running around.  6) Little tiny human beings sole mission in life is to try and figure out ways of ending their little tiny lives.  It is exhausting.  Believe it or not I am writing this at 6:30am just so I am not interrupted 40,000 times, and just so I can actually think at least two, perhaps three words, in advance of what I want to put down into this here blog o mine.

Did you know that being an executor, or in my case executrix, means running around and being a puppet for each organization you have to deal with?  I'm thinking that after this I may write up a small manual of  "Shit That Has To Be Done When You Were Cleverly Trapped Into Being A Slave To The Government After Someone Passes On Because No One Knows Anything About Anything Else Except Their Own Shit So You Are Stuck Having To Figure It Out On Your Own." Being made Executor is like winning the position of school president and finding out that it just means that you have to do everything that everyone else wants to skip out on.  Actually I can't really complain because my mom literally had nothing when she died, no stocks, bonds, RSP's, savings, property, vehicles, etc., and she left a will which read that I was the executrix and sole beneficiary of the royal titles and treasury, so it is a lot more easy to do because no one is worried about you absconding with the crown jewels or vast tracks of money, so they are not jealous of your sudden flood of wealth and therefore actually feel sorry for you a bit and are much more likely to try and help you out. 

My advice to anyone who is considering kicking off and leaving their final crap to be dealt with by some stooge in their lives is to a) make sure you have a legal will made up.  b) make sure that will is not complicated by specifics.  For example, "To my nephew Barnabas Blueballs I leave my earwax collection estimated to be worth four million dollars.  To my second cousin twice removed Ramona Bigfeet I leave 4.37% of my Barbie doll collection of shoes, estimated value of - $7.23."  c) Give all your shit away before you kick off so you have nothing left for the government to try and take their cut from.  d) If you don't want to do any of that and have a lot of shit make sure you name someone you really, really hate as your executor then laugh your ass off. 

(I almost forgot...Happy International Talk Like A Pirate Day.  Now go and swab the deck and gargle back a tote of grog.  Yarggghhhh.)