Last time I was on here my life was falling apart around me. I was surrounded by appliance cadavers.

It were spooky, ya’ll.

Guess what? They all came back to life! I wandered out into my front yard to try to find the newspaper in the jungle of grass that needs mowing and apparently the top of my head was still visible. My next door neighbor with the immaculate yard called out to me so I took my machete and made my way over to the property line.

He asked me if my air conditioner compressor was running.

I stared blankly at him for a second wondering why there didn’t even seem to be any mosquitoes in his yard and then snapped to. “OH! Yeah, well my A/C has been running all day, just blowing away hard as it can and there is no cool air coming out.”

He then said, “And your dryer? It’s not heating either, is it?”

At this particular point I’m thinking he’s spying on me and the house is rigged with cameras and hidden microphones. While struggling to remember if I had been wearing clothing all day and what other embarrassing stuff I could have done, I stood there and listened to him explain that “A leg of our transformer has blown.”Everything in both our houses that runs on a 220 circuit won’t work.

Well, this is news to me. I do know that anytime that particular transformer blows my house along with the meticulous yard folks and the neighbors located in the two houses directly behind me all lose power. ALL power. So I just go ahead and believe what he’s saying and slip in little tidbits about how my good underwear is dirty but I DO have some. You know, just in case the theory about the hidden cameras and microphones turns out to be true.

After talking to him for several minutes I ascertain that he has called the power company already and they will be showing up shortly.  He mentions that the Homeowners Association would not only be grateful to me for mowing the yard, but appreciative for my efforts in donning a bra before wandering outside.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… I’ll get right on that.

I went back inside my abode and turned on the oven. The digital clock was lit up, but no heat from the cooking deals inside. (Yes, I know they’re called elements!)

It truly is a 220 problem.

Anyway, around midnight and with the house steaming hot from having no A/C all day, the electric crew got my power up and running.

They had to completely shut off the power in order to work on the transformer. Apparently the little sissies don’t want to risk any kinds of nasty little jolts to their precious little bodies. So we not only have no A/C, but no fans either, not to mention lights.

I ran a cool bath and climbed in with a flashlight and my nook. I was sitting there in the spa tub, finally cooling off and guess what I heard immediately to my right, on the outside of the large picture window that overlooks the tub? Men. Talking about the work they are doing. Muttering things about how they wish we had mowed and the mosquitoes are a bitch.

I am sitting NAKED not two feet away from this guy! It was freaky! I have a filmy thing hanging there, in front of the glass that I KNOW you can’t see through, but I know they can see the light from my flashlight.

So, eventually they wander off I kill the light and get out, wake John up and tell him there are men outside the bath window and he mumbles something about “Tell them to mow…”, and goes back to sleep.

Funny thing is that when I was reading my comments a reader named Carla, (a former lurker), figured out what it was just by reading my previous post. She hit the nail on the head!

OR, DOES SHE HAVE CAMERAS AND MICROPHONES HIDDEN IN MY HOUSE?

Hello?

Is anyone out there, anymore? I just got the wild urge to tinker on here.
I probably just need to drink a cup of coffee….

The Funky Chicken

 

So it’s Saturday morning and Kes comes in and drags me out of bed to go do a little shopping with her.

“OK”, I says, “Let’s go.”

So I hop up and while she gets dressed I am in a little quandary since I can’t find anything to wear that fits. You see, I’ve lost weight. A good deal of it, as a matter of fact. So have Kessa and Keelan. We’ve all been on the diet train.

I put on a sleeveless white blouse and walked into the living room and stepped into the stairwell.

“Kessa!”

“What?”

“Come look at this and tell me what you think.”

“In a minute! I’m getting dressed.”

So Keelan has wandered in and looks at me and says, “Why? What’s the matter with it?”

I extended my arms and asked if the hanging armholes looked ridiculous.She shrugs halfheartedly as her sister enters the room and Keelan says,  “What are you going to be doing that would require you to put your arms out like that?”

I immediately reply that there may or may not be an occasion during our shopping trip where the need to do The Funky Chicken occurs.

Kes’s head snapped around like a homing device and her eyes zeroed in on me.

“Mom, let me make this perfectly clear… We will NOT be doing The Funky Chicken at ANY TIME TODAY.”

At some point in the day, on the way to the car, I had a pair of reading glasses perched on top of my head, (I mean how else am I going to read price tags?), and I was taking a pair of sunglasses out of my purse to apply to my eyeballs, having completely forgotten the reading glasses up there.

Kessa pipes up, “Mom, you’ve got too many pairs of glasses on at one time… one’s the limit.

I told her that I always wear two pairs when I’m going to do The Funky Chicken and she came to a complete stop in the parking lot.

“Mom! There WILL BE NO FUNKY CHICKEN, TODAY!”

I think this leaves the chance open for another day and if I keep my mouth shut and don’t remind her that it’s even a possibility… Well, I could very well be seen doing The Funky Chicken in the parking lot of Target near you. Or maybe even far away. The priceless thing won’t be me doing it, but the look on the young lady’s face with me.

 

 

Tomorrow

John is off work tomorrow. What will we do?

Probably go grocery shopping.

Run errands.

Complain about the girls while knowing we would be lonely without them.

Play with the dogs.

Watch a movie.

Water the lawn.

And in the end, we will communicate a lot somewhere in there.

And we will GET each other.

This? Is why I look forward to my days spent with him.

 

I need to post. I want to post! I am creatively frustrated right now.

So I guess that’s better than being un-creatively frustrated?

It is so hot outside I am wilting inside. Not to mention dragging out the water hose and sprinkler every evening and soaking down the yard, which was about to be completely dead before I caved and started watering it.

You know what’s wonderful when it’s this hot?

No, not running naked through the snow. See? I know how your mind works.

Watermelon Peach Mango iced tea.

I wish so much I could show you a picture of how it tastes. It is SO refreshing and light and cool and exactly what you imagine angel farts to be.

How ’bouts you just come on down to my house and I’ll make a pitcher of it.

OH! I could even fill up my favorite Tervis Tumbler, the fabulous new one out! The 2011 NBA World Champion Dallas Mavericks!

Packed with ice and Watermelon Peach Mango iced tea!

I am telling you, it doesn’t get any better than that down here!

Except maybe with a splash of Watermelon Vodka.

How good would THAT be?!

Excuse me. It’s been fun chatting on with you and all, but I gotta run make something to drink.

Oh, that invitation stands!

Well, another miracle was preformed while Mither was here to force me to accomplish things help me out.

Remember this?

Yeah. That was October 11.

2008.

The stupid door finally got repainted.

Took about 10 minutes and one sample sized paint can that cost $5.00.

No. I don’t know why it took me so long to do it, except to say I just couldn’t decide on a color. I love red, but the neighbors across the street have a red door and I didn’t want to be a copy cat.

Yet, I really do love mine, now.

Behold!

I have to give Mither a lot of the credit. She pushed me into going ahead and doing it. OK, she stood over me until it was done. OKAY! She helped me!

Er, maybe I helped her, whatev.

I really like it.

Do you think it’s turquoise because we’re Messicans?

John says I’m “Mexican by injection”. 😉