Dora Domestica

I made a great big ginormous pot of chicken soup today, and it was good.  Actually it was more like stewp than soup.  But it was still good.  I also made a batch of cheese biscuits, also good, but they came out a little wonky.  Mostly because, a) I did not follow a recipe.  b) I used half flour and half some other kind of non-gluten flour.  and c) I accidentally dumped in a bit more cheese than I should of.  Kinda like three times more than I should have.  They ended up having to stay in the oven a LOT longer than regular biscuits, but were tasty all the same.  Least wise it didn't reduce the amount, or speed the meal was consumed in. 

The day started out quite foggy this morning, which turned into drizzle, which turned into a whole bunch of snow going bye-bye.  And although it means that everything is mucky and soggy and sloppy out there, I am okay with it.  Most especially because it was also plus 10 all day.  Unfortunately I didn't make it outside today because I was, a) too lazy, and 2) pretending to be Dora Domestica meets Wrennie Writer.  Plus the muscle that cramped up on my neck last week and bugged me all week has transferred itself over to the other side of my neck and shoulders.  Grrrrr.  Very frustrating. 

Pirate Speak:  did you know when a pirate says, "Quit usin me wooden leg as a scratching post ye tall-tailed begger."  She is talking about a cat.  Hmmmm...works in this household. 

Shiver Me Timbers

I spent almost an entire day doing the writing thing.  I stopped occasionally to do some laundry, eat some food, and then take the hell hound and hubby for a walk.  So perhaps I didn't spend all day writing it just seemed like I did.  I did manage to get a new article into a complete rough draft, so that is a good thing.  It happens to be one which I am not quite sure of so I will send it off to my pre-reader for her advice before trying to edit the crappiness out of it. 

I also just got an email saying that I have been accepted into a local writers group.  I love the fact that I will now get to spend a couple of hours a week with some like-minded people.  Well I'm not sure we are like minded seeing as I haven't actually met the group yet, but I am assuming we are like minded in terms of wanting to write stuff.  So yay. 

Oh no, I just realized something, now I will have to be what do you call it?  Oh yeah, social.  I will have to take out a buffer and rub some of that anti-social rust off the brain so I can interact with people.  Maybe I can get the hubby to pull out his shop vac and suck some of the gyprock dust from my brain cavity.  Or pull out his sander, and sand away the curmudgeon molecules from my personality.  (Yeah, okay, enough with that!) 

Yesterday we returned the auxiliary back-up dog to the kidlet, good thing too as she has been spending an inordinate amount of time bleeding.  At first I was WTF why is this dog constantly getting dinged up?  Then the more I thought about it the more I realized that right now the only thing she is learning from the enfant terribles is that it is mandatory that you somehow cause bodily harm to yourself whenever possible.  I can hardly wait until everyone is out of this stage, it is too hard on my poor nerves. 

Pirate Speak: Did you know that when a pirate says that she will dine with Duke Humphrey it actually means that she will go hungry that day? 

Winders

Today dawned dull and shitty.  The wind was blowing, the snow was trying to snow, and the front yard was a skating rink.  So pretty much a typical day in the winter out this way.  The hubby and I packed up the hell hound and headed north to the big city of Stewiacke.  Happily the roads and weather got progressively better all day long so by the time we made it to Stewiacke it was not quite as crappy as it was when we left. 

Now for anyone who hasn't had the marvelous privilege of going to Stewiacke I can safely say that you ain't missing much.  In fact it looks to be quite the shithole.  (Sorry if I offended any Stewiackian readers, but I am only basing that on brief observations during a crappy time of year.)  Now normally I wouldn't have spent hard earned gas money driving to a small town in the middle of nowhere which has zip to offer at this time of the year except for the fact that they happen to have a outlet sale for windows there.  You see that is the same place we purchased all of our windows last year, so needing windows for the Wookie Cave, and knowing they were having a sale, we opted to return.  So now I am the proud owner of three new winders.  Yippee!  That means that soon we will be able to start work on the Wookie Cave, aka my new studio. 

On the way home we stopped in Costco just on the outskirts of Halifax and bought dog food, bird seed, and premade suppers of yumminess.  We then broke into my brother's place and heated, stirred, and scarfed the food while enjoying a nice chat with the clan.  (Just in case you misunderstood that statement it was the premade supper we enjoyed, not the dog food nor the bird seed.) 

Old Shoes and Tea, or the Naps and Pudding Club

Here at the Old Shoes and Tea Society we can get pretty excited about new shoes and coffee, but that would never interfere with the name of the prestigious old girls and boys club we have going on.  You see one of the athletic stores in town is going out of business so yours truly took her hidden stash of hard earned cash which had been set aside specifically for a new pair of shoes and went in to see if I could purchase a new pair.  As is almost always the case, my size was already sold out.  My size, 10 or 11, seems to be one of the most sought after sizes in the female world and even when a store isn't going out of business they are generally out of my size.  Now a long time ago, when I was working for the man and hauling in one of those things...you know those paper things...what do you call it again?  Oh yeah, a pay cheque.  I had found a running store that specialized in shoes for people who had been running forever and consequently have more things frigged up with their legs then the average bear, I used to be able to phone them up and say you have my size, and preference of shoe please send me one in the mail post haste.  The shoes would show up in my mailbox, the bill would show up on my Visa, I would take a portion of my earnings and pay them off.  It worked great.  I always had two pair on the go so I could alternate days of wearing them so they would last longer, and I wouldn't end up a cripple. 

The good thing was that I managed to find two pairs of shoes to buy from the men's side of the store.  And lucky for me the style of shoes that my heels happen to like are in the narrower male shoe department, so I bought two at a 40% discount.  How awesome is that?  One problem is that they are both summer shoes, and not trail runners, which means that they will suck at this time of the year.  I guess I will have to try and figure out how to plug my treadmill in.  Sigh.  I am NOT a fan of running on the treadmill.  But run I must, and so I will. 

I just got back from the kidlet's house where we spent two days watching the Lord of the Rings.  It was a marathon session and one which was oddly enjoyable as the kidlet and I spent the entire time chatting about the movies, the books, the differences, the sames, the goods, the bads, and the well dones and not so well dones.  The kidlet's hubby, Sven, or Sphen, as he spells it, was kind enough not to scream and tear at his hair while we chattered away. He was probably pretty frustrated so I tried to make it up to him by baking some oatmeal, chocolate chip cookies.  I think it worked.  My hubby chose to stay at the ranch so consequently we did not add another ten years to his life.  He is not a fan of people talking through movies.  I'm pretty sure that if he had been present he would have given those Orcs a run for their money in growls of irritation.  Speaking of which that reminds me that during one section where the Nazgul was screaming and causing havoc to the people of Middle Earth the kidlet muted the movie because she thought it was her youngest making that noise.  I kid you not!!!!!!  I bet you thought I was exaggerating about the screaming banshee in previous posts. 

Well I best be going because my neck and shoulder are starting to ache.  When I got up this morning I turned my head and suddenly got one of those shoulder cramps which makes the muscles in your neck knot up.  I hate, hate, hate those things because it takes weeks to clear up and in the meantime I walk around with a stiff neck, sore shoulder, and poor disposition.  I have an interview for a spot with a writers group tomorrow so I may have to take some Tylenol just so I can function like a normal human.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  (That's me giving those Orcs a run for their money.) 

Fugue!

Today has not been a great day for old Iron Bess.  Probably because I didn't get too much sleep last night, it was one of those nights where I felt tired but could not convince my body/brain to actually take the plunge and get some sleep.  I thought about getting up and playing some games on my iPad but my eyes just couldn't focus on it.  I also thought of just lying there and listening to a book on tape until I was too tired to pay attention, but in my state of crappiness I couldn't remember how to increase the volume on my Kindle so couldn't hear the words over the snoring coming from the hubby's side of the bed.  So consequently I think I actually fell asleep somewhere after four am which was around the time the dog bugged me to put her outside.  So shitty sleep. 

Then in the late morning just as I seemed to get myself together the weather outside went from sunny to blowing and overcast...grrrrrrrr.  I figured that a nice walk outside in the sun would give me enough vitamin D to get me out of the feeling of crap.  I did manage to drag myself out and wander down the road figuring that a five k walk would perk me right up, but I only got about 1.5 k and started to hear a few coyotes howling ahead of me.  I was in such a mental state of abstraction that it didn't occur to me until I started hearing them quite loud in front of me that I probably shouldn't keep walking towards the pack, most especially with the hellhound leading the way.  Coyotes love themselves a good meal of dog.  So we turned and headed back.  Well I turned the dog was not so thrilled with our about face but when I threatened her with a serious beating she wagged her tail at me and kept walking towards her new would be friends.  Did I mention that a parsnip would give her a run for her money in the brains department?

Eventually we did make it back to the house, in one piece, where I managed to do a whole lot of nothing, I might have split a handful of kindling and then called it a day.  I wasn't even up to reading so I pretty much wasted my entire day doing sweet tweet.  Being all by my onsies it would have been a great day to start on my next article, but I didn't even have that in me.  Oh well, days like this make the good days so much better.  I think I will go and make some chocolate pudding now and perhaps watch a movie...so why didn't I think of that earlier?  Chocolate always makes things look less bleak! 

#2

This is my second post for 2013, the Year of the Holey Underwear, and as I sit here and ponder upon the day I realize that even after all these years of living on the planet Earth I still don't understand men.  Even my particular man is a bit of a mystery to me.  On one hand he is kind, loving, useful, industrious, handy, and clever, with a tendency to sprout hair on random parts of his body.  That I understand, but with an amazing, wonderful wife like me who wouldn't be all those things and more?  On the other hand he is impatient, temperamental, aggravating, irksome, irascible, volatile, vexing, and grumpy…sometimes all at the same time.  Some days I wonder how he even dares to go to sleep after being a total dickwad all day.  You see it wouldn't surprise me if he woke up with no eyebrows, or half his moustache missing, or the words, "I need a Spanking" written on his forehead in indelible black marker. 

The thing I've noticed about men which makes no sense to me at all, is that when something isn't going their way then suddenly it is like the Zombie Apocalypse.  The world becomes this brutal, terrible place where hordes of the undead shuffle menacingly towards you so they can eat your brain.  There is the wailing, the gnashing of the teeth, the incoherent moaning, and the rending of the hair.  And the Zombies make a lot of noise as well. 

My hubby has always had a time issue, no matter where he is going he has to be on time, and god forbid that he be late for anything because the world as we all know it would undergo a terrible transformation too hideous to envision.  Slowly over the years the time issue has gone from "have to be on time," to "must be there early," to "OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING IN BED?  WE HAVE TO BE AT OUR APPOINTMENT IN SEVEN HOURS AND WE STILL HAVE A HALF HOUR DRIVE AHEAD OF US!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT TO TAKE A SHOWER, GET DRESSED AND HAVE BREAKFAST?  ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"  It really is starting to border on the psychotic. 

You see, the being "on time" thing is okay with me, in fact it's okay in spades, I don't like to be late, I think it is rude. However, being early is a whole other kettle of sardines, for me it can be a bit irksome depending on what it is.  If I am a half hour early going somewhere that I am unfamiliar with, or need to be careful on the highway/find parking/the office/the room then great, it makes sense.  An hour early to a bank appointment where we sit in the vehicle and wait, or worse, the bank lobby, I am not a fan of.  Early, of any sort, to somewhere we haven't established a time to be, and no one gives a big, fat, hairy, rat's ass what time we show up.  Well let's just say I find that to be quite irksome.  Getting yelled at for not being ready the second he is, to go somewhere where we don't have a time we need to be there by - I will get fucking perturbed!   

Let me clarify this though, I typically am not a happy camper when I get yelled at, at anytime, mainly because I am not three years old, but also because I do not yell at people (unless they are three) when I get a little worked up.  I have zero qualms about yelling back at people who yell at me, but typically I don't find it to be a very useful way of communications.  Over the years I have found that people DO NOT RESPOND WELL to getting yelled at.  In fact as a person, manager, boss, parent, etc I have made it a point not to yell at people when I am frustrated. So getting yelled at pisses me off to no end, getting yelled at for no fucking reason whatsoever makes me want to go around the house and destroy all the clocks with a baseball bat. 

Now I am not saying that there aren't any good reasons to yell at someone; for example, "Holy shit! They're giving away free label makers at the mall. Grab your jacket!" (You have to have a little OCD to understand how exciting label makers can be.) Or, "Run for your life there is a Zombie on your tail!" 

Okay I'm pretty sure I have to quit ranting now because all I seem to be doing is getting myself more and more pissed off.  So deep breaths, in, out, in, out, in, out.  Thoughts of sunshine, and puppy dogs.  Noodles, and poodles.  India ink, and cerulean blue.  That's better....chocolate, lottery wins, warm breezes, tropical beaches, turkey dinners...so much better. 

The Bowl

This is my dog.  This is my dog's bowl.  My dog and her bowl are having a long time love affair.  They are an inter-species couple, or is that inter-compound couple.  One is a fur covered, bag of mostly water, the other is a shiny metal container. 

One is a nonstop pacer, the other is so sedentary that the only way he moves is if someone, or something, picks him up and walks around with him.  One breaths, has a heart beat, defecates, and scatters hair onto every single square centimeter of surface in the house, the other is a piece of formed metal.  Now you would think that two beings so opposite could not find anything in common, that two beings so opposite could not form a long lasting relationship.  You would be dead wrong.  These two spend hours walking around the house holding hands, well technically mouth and rim, but you get my drift. 

It is the love affair of the century, but it has to end because it is also an obsession. 

ob·sess (b-ss, b-)

v. ob·sessed, ob·sess·ing, ob·sess·es

v.tr.

To preoccupy the mind of excessively.

v.intr.

To have the mind excessively preoccupied with a single emotion or topic.

 

 

Now I am as open minded as the next person and figure that whatever two consenting adults do is their own business but this has got to stop.  My dog introduces me to her dish four thousand times a day.  While I am making breakfast, working on the computer, sitting on the toilet, sleeping in bed, putting my shoes on, eating supper, taking a shower, folding laundry, starting a fire, sweeping the floor, doing dishes, baking biscuits, cleaning cobwebs out of the corners...etc, etc.  (Ha-ha, who am I trying to kid, I would never clean cobwebs out of a corner.)

Now for those of you reading this and saying that I should take the hint and feed the poor thing, I am making that blrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb strawberry noises at you.  She brings it to me before, and after each meal.  (Thankfully, so far at any rate, not during!)

And now I pronounce you dog and bowl, you may kis...lick the bowl. 

Notice how Karson is looking at her.  She is thinking, give it up already, even I'm getting sick of your bowl.