Archive for January, 2011

My Hair Hurts

My hair hurts, my eyes hurt, my gums hurt, my throat hurts…..I spent last night quite wakefully, waking up alternately freezing and sweating. We took the granddaughter to a Mexican restaurant for tacos Friday night (her favorite food fetish), and the owner was laughing at my lack of voice and started gesticulating at me in faux sign language. Heh. Well, at least I didn’t lose my sense of humor!

As soon as Papa went to bed, granddaughter was all excited. “Let’s MAKE something, Grammaw!” She wanted to spin, or weave, bake, paint…….she wants to create when she’s at Grammaw’s house because if there’s one thing Grammaw encourages, it is creativity! Some of the questions that she had when she was teeny were things like “What do brownies taste like in a pie shell?” Let’s find out! “What do different colors make when mixed together?” Let’s take out the paints and see! “Is there Buried Treasure in your yard?” Hmmmmmm. Better get a shovel and see! “How about dinosaur bones?” Hmmmmm. Shovel time!

As she gets older, her creative projects are getting much more difficult (and fun). Grammaw is going to have to scramble to keep up. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like scrambling. I felt more like vegetating. Or maybe dying. My eyes kept closing of their own accord while she was talking. I turned on the television for the poor child and went to sleep.

The next day, I still didn’t feel so much as a creative nerve twitch. I had planned to paint and paper the bathroom to teach her some paint finishes but noooooo. Instead, I gave her a grooming brush and turned her loose on Breeze the appaloosa mare. Breeze was in heaven, turning her body this way and that so that every inch the granddaughter could reach was brushed thoroughly. She put her head down all the way to the ground so that granddaughter could brush her head and neck.

Then I had Papa put granddaughter up on Breeze’s back with no saddle, a great way to let the younguns learn how to balance themselves on a horse. I explained about turning her toes in and gripping with her thighs, and holding on to Breeze’s mane until she got her balance. Breeze walked very slowly and carefully, then at a little brisker pace as granddaughter felt more confidence. At the end of the first “lesson”, she was doing exercises per my instruction on horseback as those shown on YouTube below, but without saddle.

At the end of her first riding lesson (sadly much overdue!), she informed me that both her daddy AND her momma had forbidden her to ever attempt to ride Breeze because that horse was waaaaaaaay too wild. Heh. Guess that’s why she had always previously refused because she’s mostly an obedient little girl. Well, neither of them had told ME such a thing, and granddaughter waited until the END of the lesson to enlighten me, so I suppose she really wanted to ride.

Maybe her time here this weekend wasn’t too boring after all.

After a solid 12 hours of sleep and ingesting some ramen noodles, I feel almost human again, though still mute. Gonna be hard to read books to the children at school tomorrow!

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Weekend Plans Often Go Awry….

I love my grandchildren to pieces. While Mommy of grandsons has been working weekends through January, grandsons have been here. I won’t say it is hard to clean house over the weekend while grandsons are present. Nope. Not hard at all! I’ll say it is more like IMPOSSIBLE, particularly when a little guy is twinkling up at me saying “but my shoes weren’t dirty, MeeMaw!”, while I’m looking at a trail of mud across the carpet. How does cereal jump from the bowl directly to the floor and get tracked throughout the house in the time it takes me to put the milk back into the refrigerator? How do toys that are supposed to be in the living room end up directly behind me when I’m at the stove or the dishwasher so that I turn around and fall over them? I STILL haven’t gotten all the toys picked up from last weekend!

I was kinda guiltily looking forward to the child-free weekend coming up. I could sleep! I could maybe (gasp!) clean the house! I could, oh, I dunno, do something crazy like go grocery shopping or watch a show that doesn’t have SpongeBob (aaaaaargh!) on it. I could do something that I wanted to do, and go places that I wanted to go! (Okay, fine, that’s crazy talk. I’d be riding along to wherever SwampMan wanted to go on his errands, but still. Whenever I want to go somewhere, he complains that he doesn’t want to go, even though he wasn’t invited, then insists on driving me, grumping the entire time. I tell him to stay his grumpy ass at home, but he worries that I’ll break down or something and would have nobody to berate, I suppose.)

I could go visit my mom, a visit that is long overdue. The delay in visiting Mom has to do with her leukemia, my stepdad’s end-stage COPD, and my exposure to all SORTS of little germ factories throughout the week, and I absolutely cannot bring kids along unless they are not afflicted with so much as a sniffle.

Darling little granddaughter, however, has been feeling a bit left out. Got a phone call this evening that her parents are going out of town this weekend, but she didn’t want to go and wanted to spend the weekend with me instead. So (grin), that’s what will happen. After work tomorrow, I’ll come home and pick up granddaughter from her maternal grandmother, and our weekend shall begin!

While I know Mom would enjoy a Girl’s Day Out, I’m hacking and coughing after having been coughed and snotted on all week at school, and granddaughter has a sinus infection, so no visit this weekend for Mom.

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RIP Jack LaLanne

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Baby Shower

I was going to go to daughter’s baby shower this afternoon. Her coworkers were throwing it at a BBQ place, and I would have loved to have gone. Former DIL was there, along with darling granddaughter, who informed me that she was anxiously waiting to see me.

I haven’t had BBQ for awhile. Maybe I’ve been feeling a little down and depressed because of the lack of BBQ in my diet. On the other hand, I might be feeling a little down and depressed because I’m broke and have approximately zero chance of finding a better job right now, and it could have absolutely nothing to do with low blood levels of BBQ. (Shrug) I can fix low blood levels of BBQ for under $10, something that even a fairly brokeass person can afford. The broke and unhireable part? Not so much. Better work with something I can fix.

I had been watching the grandsons all day. SwampMan had been feeling under the weather, so we were doing our best to be quiet all morning while SwampMan napped. He ALWAYS seems to be feeling under the weather when the grandsons are here! We watched cartoons. We went to Burger King and their playground. I had awakened this morning with a headache, probably weather related, and hearing SpongeBob’s high pitched inane laughter all day didn’t do a THING for it.

Daddy picked up the boys about 4 p.m., the time the shower started. I still needed to feed the livestock, water livestock, gather eggs, turn off the outside water to the uninsulated PVC lines, drain those lines, feed the dogs, feed the cat… the time I finished, it was after 6 p.m. I needed a shower (of the hot soapy kind). And I was STILL @ 45 minutes away from the shower (of the baby kind) that had started at 4!

As you may have guessed, I didn’t go. I figured it was probably over or had wound waaaaaay down by that point.

So, here I am, just me and the computer. I cooked chicken-fried steak with rice, peas, and gravy for SwampMan and me for dinner. SwampMan has headed back to bed. The dishwasher is washing. My ironing is lurking on my ironing board waiting to be ironed, reproducing while my back is turned. How many pairs of khakis do I own anyway? I hate ironing. A person of good character and industrious habits would jump on that wrinkled pile immediately so that it would be done and out of the way and not impinging on my peripheral vision. Sad to say, it appears that my character isn’t good at all!

I suppose I could vacuum the floors, but I don’t want to disturb SwampMan. I am VERY solicitous of SwampMan, particularly when it comes to not disturbing him by doing things that I don’t really want to do anyway.

Okay, fine. I’ll do some of the damn ironing.

I hope daughter’s baby shower was fun.

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Bald Eagle Sighting

SwampMan was driving down A1A, me riding shotgun, when our attention was drawn to a smashed up large dead critter on the side of the road and a large bird on the ground speculatively eyeballing it from a safe distance.

SwampMan did a double take. “Holy shit! That’s a bald eagle!”

“Yep. A mature eagle at that.” It was in full adult plumage of white head and white tail.

“I’ve never seen one around here before!” The location was between Callahan and about a mile before I95. He turned around and went back to make sure Bald Eagle was okay because he was sure it must be wounded/injured. Why else would it be hanging around near Yulee? How he intended to transport that bigass bird if it WAS indeed wounded/injured, I have no idea, but something tells me that I would figure heavily into the catching and carrying part, because he would have to drive.

We turned around and Big Bird was still there. SwampMan slowed and Bald Eagle took to the air, swooping across the road to light on a fence post, then flapping up into the misting sky.

“I still think it was hurt!” SwampMan said.

I was just glad that I wasn’t going to have to catch and carry a pissed off Bald Eagle to the vet.

I checked the internet, and there are nine bald eagle nests within 20 miles of Yulee. Maybe there will be more and more bald eagle sightings in the area!

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Don’t Ask Don’t Tell on Illegal Drug Use

I was at a free health clinic event that included cancer screening today put on by the county health clinic. In order to participate, the screenees had to fill out a questionnaire with their name, address, and answers to several questions, such as the number of alcoholic beverages they consumed in a week, types of tobacco use, and all the types of recreational drugs they took. The preponderance of people at the screening were county employees, who were highly urged to attend, along with some members of the public as well.

As usual, I was my opinionated self, and said to the room at large that anybody that filled that questionnaire out truthfully and put their real name on it was a complete fool unless they were complete teetotalers and that was coming from somebody that didn’t smoke, drink, chew, or abuse illegal drugs. I don’t think that the questionnaire was subject to the privacy of medical records which themselves will no longer be private soon.

Paranoia on my part? Maybe not:

WASHINGTON — If someone admits to a federal official that he’s used illegal drugs, that information should be sent to the FBI so that person can be disqualified from purchasing a gun, Sen. Chuck Schumer said Sunday.

Apparently Obama would be disqualified from purchasing a gun per Chuck Shumer since he’s already admitted illegal drug use.

Hmmmm. Maybe not such a bad idea at that.

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Rock Sugar Monday For You 80s Fans

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Sad Little Boys

Mommy called when she got off work Saturday afternoon.

“I’m off, but I don’t know what to do. I’m soooooo tired, and I just want to go home and go to sleep! I’m just exhausted, and I can barely walk. I guess it’s because the baby dropped.”

I told Mommy in no uncertain terms that I thought that she really needed to go home and get some rest. She’s at 35 weeks, and looks full term and ready to deliver. If she came here, overjoyed little boys would be bouncing off her like a trampoline, plus she might not get much sleep if the youngest were to be wakeful or have to go potty a couple times in the night. She felt bad about it but really wanted to get some sleep.

I went out to tell the boys who were out with SwampMan, but SwampMan yelled to me as soon as I walked outside that they were all going out for ice cream and if I wanted any, I better jump in the truck PDQ. I briefly considered my diet, then mentally shrugged and decided ice cream calories do not count if somebody else is buying.

By the time we reached the McDonald’s drive through, Dylan was fast asleep. Jacob started eating his ice cream, and then asked if Mommy would be home by the time we got there. Ooops. I had to break the sad news that Mommy wasn’t feeling well, and went home instead.

“You mean Mommy was just trickin’ us when she said that she was coming? That wasn’t very nice.”

“No, honey, Mommy really did mean to come, but she isn’t feeling good. She’ll be here earlier tomorrow.” He sniffled a little because he loves and misses his Mommy so much, but manfully pulled himself together and ate his ice cream.

When we got home, I carried little Dylan into the house. He was still *very* tired and cranky. “Where’s Mommy? When will she get here?”

Oh, snap. He was asleep for the news.

“Mommy went home instead of coming here because she didn’t feel good and wanted to go home and go to sleep.”

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!! I want my MOMMY!”

*sigh* In his tired and cranky state, he had the potential to go into a prolonged crying spell. In my tired and cranky state, I didn’t want to hear it!

“Dylan, you are going to have to dry that up right now. It is not Mommy’s fault that she’s sick!”

“But I WANT her!” wailed Dylan.

“You want Mommy to barf on you?”

Shocked look. “Mommy doesn’t barf on me!”

“She might! Mommy is sick, so she needs to go home and go to bed.”

I had to cuddle him on my lap for awhile, but he eventually went to sleep.

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Grouchy Conservative Pundits Appears to be Down Again

Wasn’t able to access between 2:30 p.m. and 3:00 p.m. EST on January 15. Could be a problem on my end, I suppose.

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Thursday Night Mashup For Those Depressed About Going to Work on Friday

Of course, being an equal opportunity website, here’s the bipolar version for those who cannot decide whether they’re all happy and bouncing about in anticipation that the weekend is approaching, or depressed about work. (Never mind me. I got punched in the nose (again) today at work. So much for my calm demeanor settling down unstable children!)

Oh, wait…..THREE DAY WEEKEND? Yeeeehaw!

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