HalfAsstic.com

OK, I guess you can’t really call this a “post” so much as a “bring to your attention statement”.  But, see, that would have made a lousy name up there in the title place.

Here’s the dealy-o.  Hy brother, Cam, has whipped up a button for me and included a handy dandy batch of code to go with it.  I am humbly begging, imploring, AND beseeching inviting anyone who feels stirred to do so to include it in their sidebar.  Hey, I’d do it for you!

I have to admit something now and I’m almost not ashamed to do it.  I know there is probably a 12 step program somewhere out there to help me, but I’m just not to that point yet.  You know, how you have to sink to the bottom to get to where you are ready to be helped?  Well I am admitting I am a bit of a comment whore, but I just want comments now.  No intervention.  Yet.

So if you read and have never commented, help support my habit, needs and leave a comment.  Oh, and try to be nice.  But if you can’t I’ll try to understand.  I feel much better now, having shared.

Last night I was lying in bed watching Craig Ferguson and Holly Hunter was his guest.  I have always liked her a good deal, but I really love her voice.  Very southern sounding, but aside from her accent even, her voice is really neat.  I digress.  I do that a lot.

I wasn’t paying full attention, I was reading a book also, but somehow she started talking about a duffel bag she found along with her boyfriend on a street with a bunch of car window glass all over it and inside were a bunch of things that belonged to some guy that was taking flying lessons and had his flight logs and books and technical stuff that was probably very valuable to him.  His name was all over the things.  He wouldn’t be very hard to find.  She and her beau started walking up and down the street looking at the car windows until they found the car that had been broken in to, and by doing so they were able to locate the man who owned it inside the resturant and give him his stuff back.  At least what was left of it.

This reminded me of a time just after John and I got married and were living in an apartment in a near by town.  We were walking through the grass going home and either he or I, (I can’t remember who), looked down and found a gold mens wedding ring.  It was very old and had an inscription on the inside.  I can’t remember what it said other than a date that was a looooong time ago and three initials with the last one being a “Z”.  So Immediately I begin trying to figure out how we are going to find this little old man to give him his ring back, or worse, little old widow who refused to remarry and wore it on a chain around her neck for the past 20 years as a token of her undying love and devotion.  Yep, we had to find the owner.

Did I ever mention that John was a UPS driver for close to 15 years?  He was and he delivered to that area where I was living.  As a matter of fact that’s how we met, but that’s another story.

Needless to say he knew who the guy was when he stopped and thought about it, as he had delivered a package to him once.  (He also has a brain like a damn computer and never forgets anything.)  So he told me which apartment and I trotted over there and knocked on the door.  This older than dirt guy opened the door and I said “Mr. Z______?”  And he said “Yeah?”  I said, “I think I found your wedding ring!”  And I swear, this is true, he held out his hand and took the ring and closed the door.  Dirty bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to smile or look the least bit happy that his reminder of being married 50+ years was returned to him.  I was fairly devestated that my good deed was so….not that wonderful for the receipent.

Can’t help but wonder if the little Mrs. was a real bitch and he threw that ring down on the way to the car.

Has anyone noticed anything new about my blog?  Anything missing, or not in place?  Aside from the moving of some buttons and the addition of MeMarieLane’s button?  Nothing?  Not like two missing posts?

I present to you exhibit A.  The younger child, (known for reasons soon to become obvious as “Positively Insistent Sarcastic Sister And Not Thoughtful”, or PISSANT), took it upon herself to rectify a situation that she disapproved of.  She, apparently read my post about her behavior and decided to delete it.  I have the computer set up so that when I open up any of the things that I need there are no passwords or locked doors, or secret handshakes to get in.  It’s my computer, (my loving husband would probably like for me to point out that it is also his and he can use it anytime he wants…well, when I’m not on it…), and I don’t see any reason to have to go through a gauntlet of crap to get to where I’m going.  So, really no secrets there.  She did not like me saying anything negative about her and I guess, in retrospect, I can see how it might be disturbing and if I had to do it over again I might not have left it where she could read it structured my sentences in such an unflattering light, HOWEVER, I am not talking to her friends, or anyone she is likely to ever even meet.  PISSANT, on the other hand, blasts me out of the water every time we have a fight verbal altercation to all her pals on her MySpace page who come over to the house.  I am face to face to these kids who, no doubt, believe I breathe fire.  On her.

The really weird thing is that when I found out she had done it, I wasn’t just mad.  I was devastated. I felt so totally betrayed and violated.  I’s so weird, I had no idea this meant so very much to me.  And she had left some comments on the posts before she erased them that I removed, (edit, edit, edit), that said things to the effect that I should not be “talking shit” about her and it’s stupid for me to be so worried about her giving money to her friends and at least she HAS friends and not just pretend friends on line.  Yes, she used those words.  Made me furious.

I calmed down a bit and told John who is a soft shoe with the kids, but was alarmed that she had done it and said he was going to talk to her about it.  I crossed her path in the living room when she came in and stopped her and told her “Do not ever read, comment, or touch my blog in any way, shape or form again.  I don’t go snooping around on your MySpace and have fits about what you write about me.”  PISSANT didn’t say anything and I think, for one brief moment we had a meeting of the minds.  She did look contrite, so maybe she got it.  I think she did.

I talked to Cam, (brother dearest), and he pointed out that friends are people you care about and talk to and get and give advice to, so if my blog buddies aren’t my friends, who is?  Good point, Cam.

Now, that is out of my system and she can go back to being My Darling Keelan.  However I am going to have a hard time making a good accronym out of MDK.

How do you explain my readership going up on the days that I have nothing to say and the post sucks.  Yesterday, for instance.  I had a good deal more people on here and a lot of new people, (that I am sure were wondering why they bothered), and I have no idea what brought this on.  Except it was to make me feel guilty for hashing out writing such a shitty post.  That’s “shitty”….not “witty”.- Like I had to explain…

Is it just me or is Grey’s Anatomy getting more and more whiny and obnoxious.  I know it’s off season and there are no new ones on right now, but I gotta tell ya’, I stopped watching consistently about half way through last season just due to over all whining.  That Meridith chick, in particular.  She’s a whiny little squirt and she walks like a man.  Unattractive, overall.

Henrietta is in her room just chatting up a storm.  I am going to go see who she thinks she is talking to.

I’m back and it was the movie she was watching.  Fool’s Gold.  She is….an active participant in anything she is watching, whether it is the news or a movie.  She talks to the tv about everything she is seeing as if she is explaining to someone who can’t see or hear what is going on.  And she asks questions, of the tv, as if she expects an answer from it.  This is why it is so hard to watch a good movie with her in the room.

I am sweating my ass off down here and I just went upstairs and those girls have their thermostat set on 71 and it is freezing up there.  I don’t know why cause 71 down here is enough to bake you.  They are digital thermostats, is it possible they are that inaccurate?

Anyway, I turned it up to 74. Heh heh heh.

John is off work today and he decided last night that he was going to cook breakfast today and we were having  bacon, eggs, and gravy.  I don’t ususally do “breakfast”, I do “coffee”.  About noon I break into a bowl of Honeynut Cheerios.  I am intrigued as to what this is going to bring.  Hopefully not retching.  No, he really is a good cook, so I’ve got no worries.

I went out to get the paper today and someone has emptied a bag of cotton balls all over our yard.  I own two, (2), teenagers and I am no stranger to the apparence of toilet paper in our yard, draped over the trees, fence and house.  Cotton balls are new to me.  I think it must surely be an accident because, like, why?  It wasn’t even dark yet, so I don’t know how it could have happened.  Easy to pick up.  If they were trying to be creative, they didn’t think it through very well.  TP is much more effective, in addition to having visual impact.

Kids are strange now days.  I know our parents never thought that, huh?

I stumbled upon something rather disturbing just now.  I am about as far south as you can get in the US and I’m still not sure this is acceptable.  At all.  I am thinking I would have to live in a more mountainous region to see it as…prudent.  HOWEVER, my possum problem might have an upside after all…

Last night I had a couple of nightlights in H’s room.  In the past she said she didn’t want them because they were “too bright” in her face while sleeping.  She wasn’t having the haint situation at the time, however.  So this morning I asked her how she slept and she said that there were “people” standing right over there and gestured on the other side of her nightstand.  She said she got her little flashlight and shined it on them because she thought they might be trying to steal her things, and they ducked down behind the nightstand.  I realize that is sounding a bit crazy, but you would have to know just how incredibly paranoid she is to understand how much this sounds just like something she’d say.  Right on the nose.

The two girls and boyfriend left at 7:00 AM and made it here at 2:00 PM.  They report not running into any traffic at all and only taking one wrong turn, (of which I am very proud of them because they navigated a different way to get to the freeway with the map instead of turning around and looking for the missed road).  Plus, they are all terribly excited to have discovered that “up yonder”, (I have raised nothing if not a bunch of little hicks), they have convenience stores with Monster Slurpeeies.  I don’t mean  just large Slurpeeies, I mean nasty Slurpeeies made with Monster Energy drinks.  Black ones.  Eww.  But nothing delights my brand of little weirdo’s like a high energy, insane sugar, black, vomit-tasting, Icee.

They report having tons of fun and were really not happy to have to come home so soon.  They all go back to work tomorrow.

The boyfriend and Kes went out to Pop’s gun range on the back 40 and shot, well, I am guessing a number of different guns, rifles, slingshots, bow and arrows, anti-aircraft artillery…you get the idea.  Pop reports that he wants to be careful and never get them mad at him because they are both really good shots.  Keelan didn’t want to go do that, we don’t know why.  I guess she was busy getting into mischief somewhere else.

They lit up the sky with fireworks, (no burn ban outside the city limits this year, Woo-Hoo!), and went to my auntie-poo’s house in Burleson where they have been busy installing a GIGANTIC pool.  I keep getting these partial pictures of it and I am having a hard time picturing the entire thing so I asked if somebody couldn’t take a shot from the upstairs balcony.  No, I had already been sent these shots and they are going to have to get some aerial shots to get the whole shebang in a photograph.  It is impossible for me to imagine it, I guess.  I can remember the area it has  been built in quite well.  It has a beach entrance on one end and a built in hot tub, waterfall along with grotto behind it, a vanishing edge and a milliondy-gillion gallons of water.  That link of the vanishing edge is NOT their pool.  I just wanted a good example of one.  I want some good pictures!  My uncle is a pool builder by trade and his son, (my cousin), is in the business with him.  They do all kinds of pools and have many, many years of experience.  The name of their company is Sun-Ray Pools.  There.  A plug I wasn’t really even planning on doing!  But this should help explain how they came about getting a pool with every single bell and whistle known to man.  Anyway, they know what they’re doing.

While I’m plugging my family, my auntie-poo raises and breeds Maine Coon Cats.  They are the largest breed of domestic cat there is and really very beautiful.  Her establishment is called Amerrykoon Maine Coon Cattery.  Interested in a huge cat?  She, literally, ships all over the world.

John and I went to the movie yesterday!  How many years has it been since I went to a movie?  I have no idea.  We saw the new Indiana Jones one and while it was a bit hokey, my gawd, of course it was, it was Indiana Jones!  It was good.  A ton of action and one long, continuous chase scene.  Bad guys and good guys clearly defined by their Nazi uniforms and Russian accent/fedora and American accent.  Harrison Ford is still HAWT!  I guess he will be till he dies.  Anyway, I have to say that the movie experience would not have happened if my SIL hadn’t offered to stay here while we went.  So I am grateful for that.  However, I lost enthusiasm for my appreciation when SIL left the room and H told me to give her $20.00 of her money.  I said, “Why?” and she said, “Well….because she came and took care of me….”  I said, “Henrietta, she is your daughter.  You’re not supposed to have to pay her to come and take care of you.”  I came very close to yelling, I DON’T GET PAID, I’M NOT YOUR DAUGHTER, AND I TAKE CARE OF YOU 24 HOURS A DAY, 7 DAYS A WEEK, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE TWO HOURS SIL COMES AND STAYS WITH YOU LAST THING ON SUNDAY NIGHTS, usually.  This week she really came through.  Anyway, she just can’t stand it.  She gets so few visitors that if anyone, even her daughter shows up she impulsively pushes cash and gifts on them before they go.  So I wrote her a check.

Oh, I forgot!  The best part!  The sound was screwed up during all of the previews and once or twice during the movie and someone had to keep going and getting someone to go to the projection room and fix it somehow.  So when the whole thing was over there was a guy handing everyone a free coupon for another movie.  So I have another date, people!  Wonder who I’ll take….tee hee hee

Ever since Henrietta has been back from the hospital after the fall she had over 3 1/2 years ago, she has, from time to time…entertained night visitors.  No.  She is not running a brothel. (I would be getting a cut of the proceeds.)  She sees people very vividly at night.  Occasionally, they answer her when she speaks to them, usually yes or no answers to her questions.  There are usually groups of people gathered and most often children are there, too.  The children are playing with one another sometimes and the women are usually older.  The men are sometimes short and sometimes very, very tall.  She can never see the face of the really tall man, as he is over in the corner and it is too dark to see him.  She tells me about these vivid…sights and what all she says to them and if she gets any answers, (she sleeps without her hearing aid, so she can’t hear the answers unless she puts it in).  She can describe in minute detail what they are wearing and the expressions on their faces.  It always ends when she gets annoyed that they won’t leave and she turns on the lamp on her nightstand.  Poof.  No one there.

At this point I’d like to point out that our house is about 20 years old and no one has ever died here, with the exception of the FIL, Marcos a couple of years ago.  He could hardly bring all those other people here as he was fairly unsociable and I find it hard to believe he has changed that much since he died.  Plus, I am assuming H would recognize her husband among the crowd in there.

What do you think?  Keep in mind she is completely sane and has absolutely no cognitive problems at all, with the possible exception of believing herself to be the center of the universe.

I really am interested in what anyone might have to say about this.

Well, after several phone calls during the night with questions of some urgency about where to turn or what exit, I got the final one at 4:15 AM saying, “We’re here!”  I have talked to them several times since and Mither, also.  They are SO EXCITED.  Just a few moments ago I got a call from them saying they are all going to Greenwood to eat lunch at the little Greenwood General Store/Gas Station/Eatin’ Spot.  I have been there to eat with my parents before and it is an extremely quaint little, old store/restaurant that makes the best homemade hamburgers I have ever tasted.  Also, the best fried catfish.  It was interesting reading up on the little town in the info in the link.  I believe it said the last census count  was 76 back in 2003.  However, since the town was settled back in the 1870’s it has had as many as 300 residents.  Just a thriving metropolis. Hee, hee…

It has poured buckets and buckets of rain all day and everything is good and soaked and I feel that there is very little chance that anything could catch on fire from fireworks tonight.  So I guess this is good.  John is at work, so we will just “celebrate” separately, for now.  Tomorrow he’s off and SIL will stay here for a bit with H and we will brave the hordes and go…somewhere.

I will leave you with some images from Nana and Pop’s house… because I feel like everybody should be able to go to such a neat, wonderful place and I wish I could take you all.

Here is Ricochet.  He has wandered up onto the back porch again.  Silly thing likes to look in the windows.  He really should have been named “Tom”, as in “Peeping”.

View of the pond from the back porch during a really good blanket of snow this past winter.

Just a few hours old colt, during the same snow.

Finally.  Kessa, boyfriend, and Keelan have just departed to go to my mither and Pop’s house for the long weekend.  They left here about 10:00pm and are going to drive about 7 hours north to the Ft. Worth area.  Decatur, Texas, to be exact.  It’s a small town an hour north of Ft. Worth.  I told them that it would be a much smoother trip and less traffic if they would go late at night because with the holiday weekend, they could be in traffic for hours if they left as soon as boyfriend is off work…

None of them have done a road trip without some responsible adult driving them before.  Rightfully, they quake in fear.  I got a Texas map and highlighted the entire route and then sat down with a little yellow pad and wrote down turn by turn how to get there, what roads to watch for, informative bullshit that they will raise an eyebrow to and call me names to one another when they get to it, cause they are all full of themselves making it all the way to….oh, I dunno, Dew, Texas without adult supervision.  I told them to behave themselves going through Huntsville.  State prisons, lots of prisons.  Anna Nicole Smith lived in Mexia,(pronounced Ma-hay-ah), Texas and worked at the fried chicken place on the right side of the road.  Kes kept finding reasons to call it Mex-e-ah like the 18 year old she is, just to annoy me.  THAT’S OK, SHE’S GONE AND NANA AND POP’S PROBLEM NOW!  BAHAHAHAHAH! (maniacal laughter fading out….)

I am sure they will have a great time and they are super excited about going.  The only thing that would have made the whole thing soooo much better is if I could have gone.  SIL could have totally come and stayed with H over the holiday weekend and I really wanted to, but, I cannot picture me in the backseat of a Mustang with my knees tucked up under my chin for 6 1/2 to 7 hours.  Kes and boyfriend are driving and boyfriend is 6′2″ and certainly can’t get into the backseat.  Keelan who would be back there with me is taller than me and, her legs are even longer than mine.  Loooooong.  So, no.  I can’t do that.  I thought about us taking our Trailblazer.  It even has three rows of seats for any hitch-hikers with knives we might see to pick up.  Seemed the perfect choice, but, we need new tires and can NOT afford to outfit it with such at this point.  So no road trip for the Trailblazer.

So now it’s just John, H and me.  H is in bed and John is working late.  Guess who’s gonna be running around the house naked when he gets home?  Er, no, not H.