HalfAsstic.com

Hello there.  I would like to start out by clarifying one thing:

When I paint the door, it will only be the outside.  The inside is in great condition and there is absolutely no reason to paint it.  The outside, however, is not so good.  I will take a picture and show you, my speculative intertubers.

Here it is all peeling and weather beaten.  Not to mention the chick that lives here needs to sweep the porch, but she’s a slacker and let’s not discuss that now.

Purrrza wants in and is TRYING to be patient while I snap stupid pictures!  She thinks, “Damn I wish she’d paint this ugly door!  I’m embarrassed to live here and all the neighborhood cats think I’m low maintenance.  BUT I’M NOT!  If I flatten my ears back a little bit more she’ll know I’m really pissed and mean business.  GET THIS *&%$#! DOOR OPEN!”

Purrrza: Oh Gawd!  The stupid dog, now… what more must I put up with?  How come she’s inside and I’m out here?

Baby: Momma!  How come Purrrza is outside and I don’t get to come out?  MOM, what are you doing?

MOM?

OK, Kissy is here too now Mom and she wants out too… I’m telling you, you don’t want us to call the union!

And lastly, just because it’s hanging on my porch and I was out there anyway I took a picture of this plaque that my brother and sister-in-law gave to John and I a few years ago for Christmas.  Does anyone recognize the quote and know from where it came?

Well, here I sit… nothing better to do.  Yeah, right!  Thanksgiving Day and Kes is slaving away in the kitchen while I sit in my bedroom worming out a post!  Heh heh, evil genius that I am.

To be perfectly fair I was up early getting stuff going and done and when she got up she went immediately over to The Boyfriend’s house for a little bit to help HIM with some things he was preparing for his family.  I am kinda beaming with pride about that.  Not her helping him, (that’s a given), but him doing a ham and getting the turkey started.  He came back over here a few minutes ago to borrow a pan.  Makes me just SMILE.

I guess you’d have to see him to understand how strange it seems for him to do anything this domestic.  He’s 6′2″ 280lbs of aaaaall muscle.  He played football when he was in high school and still has the build.

Funny looking with a pot holder and spatula.   I should try to get him in an apron and get a picture.

Anyway, the countdown has begun and John’s family is about to descend on us here in a few hours.  This year I delegated.  But I was careful!  In recent years the nephew and his girlfriend wanted to do the turkey and I was just going to do a ham.  They showed up with a bird that still made “gobble gobble” noises when poked.  I think they said something like, “Oh we cooked it a looooong time!  Almost two hours!”  Woo-hoo!

And then there was the time one of the nieces said she’d do the mashed potatoes.  I thought that’s simple, no recipe required, right?  She showed up with a pot of the potatoes and said she just drained them and was going to mash them here.  I took off the lid and she had peeled and boiled 7 or 8 baking potatoes.  WHOLE.  I kid you not.  Sure enough, when I cut into one it was a tad crunchy about an inch and a half in.  A tad, hell, it was raw.  I didn’t say anything, just got the hot water on them and put them back on to boil, but, who ever heard of boiling whole potatoes to make mashed potatoes?  Strange family.

Now, just sit back and watch.  I have stepped out on a limb and said that dumb shit and about half my readers, (yes, both of you), are going to respond and say that they have always made mashed potatoes that way and I’m crazy.  Not to mention, offensive.

I’m Sorry.

Switching gears here, I got the glass in my front door fixed and I am soooo excited to have it done!  After thanksgiving I am going to paint it!  Yes! Yes I am!

Here are pictures to further illustrate the point that it is indeed fixed and it looks really good now!

Here the lady that is going to fix it and her husband has removed the glass and they are outside… doing something.  Not sure what at this point.  You can see the molding that was holding it in over in the corner.

Here they are tracing around the glass on a piece of plywood to cut out and tack up so the possums don’t come in and live with us over night.

God bless ‘um.

And yes, here is the lovely piece of plywood with a horde of angry possums petitioning to get in on the other side of the door.  Trust me.

Here is the finished product the next day when she brought it back and put it back in with fresh caulk.

And, (Yes, it’s the same door.  I don’t know why it looks so light colored.  I guess my flash was too bright.), here we have a close up of the bottom where all the broken pieces were.  Lovely, huh?

Now.  I want everybody to have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  Even though I have bitched a lot, I do, in fact, realize that this entire household has tons to be thankful for.  I know I sure do!

I just heard the news and again they were discussing the astronaut that let her tool bag float away while working on the space station.  It is reported to have cost a hundred thousand dollars.  This has me thinking of so many questions my leetle head hurts.

Number one, When you are going to send a bag of tools up with a bunch of super geeks to work on things in zero gravity, wouldn’t you consider that maybe it would be good to have something on the bag of tools to tie it off with.  I mean it just seems like it would make working on the space station go much smoother to be able to use both hands instead of one holding the bag and one the tool.  I think NASA needs to hire me to speak for the moral practical majority.  I have tons of good advise for them.

As for the cost of that bag of tools, I’m thinking… Makita?  Snap On?  I mean I cannot conceive of any brand of tools that costs as much as they spent OR couldn’t do what needs to be done in outer space.

So where DO they shop for tools?  Or was it the bag?  If it was the actual bag that costs that much I’m guessing it’s from a high dollar store on 5th Avenue and a knock-off can be found on Harwin here in Houston for a teeny, tiny fraction of the cost.

When NASA hires me that is going to be the first thing I reccomend.

If this much incompetence isn’t enough, when the news guy was finishing up the story he pointed out that the Space Station had been a temporary home for 10 years to people from 15 different continents.

I’ve done what I can and now give up.

Yesterday, a mere eighteen days into NaBloPoMo, I forgot to post.  Actually I remembered, but by that time it was after midnight, so what the hell…

It was all John’s fault as he was off yesterday and I am always distracted by him when he’s off work.  I suppose that is as it should be… BUT IT’S STILL HIS FAULT.

We went running around and the caregiver person was here for her three hours so it was kinda nice.  I went back up to the eyeglasses place and complained bitterly about mine and they went to great lengths to explain that this is the way they are supposed to be and my eyes will get used to them.  I have 90 days and if I’m not completely satisfied, well, I get a do-over.

Do-over’s are great.  I wish do-overs came with everything I do.

Lisa called me today and when I answered the phone I said “Hello, Lopez residence, maid speaking.”

And, of course she said something to the effect of, “Where is that bitch?!”

To which I replied, “She’s out and I gotta clean this entire shithole before she gets home.”

Lisa replied, “And this is the maid?”  And then she started trying to speak Spanish to me and I got lost and I KNOW she was.  I told her, “I no speaky the English, and I no understandy you Spanish either, sista!”  Then it got so politically incorrect that the intertubes are not safe with me around anymore.

I told her,

“Oh, yeah!  You know those Lopez’s!  They are rolling in so much money they’ve even got a white woman cleaning for them!

She then commenced to tell me that she had a white woman cleaning her house too and the friend with her chimmed in and said she did too.

Now the pressure is on and I gotta get the dump cleaned, supper cooked and the laundry done cause I don’t want to be the one to make the white chicks look bad… let someone else do it!

Earlier today Mither called me and in the course of our conversation she confessed to me that she has begun to see a trend in these last few posts and in an effort at stopping the flow of blood from my brain, out through my ears providing me with something suitable to post about she had attempted to hem her pants while wearing them.  She said it didn’t work out well and so she aborted the effort and took them off to do it.

1. I think she’s probably lying fibbing.

2. I think she’s a pansy-assed coward for not doing it.

3. I don’t even think it’s very impressive to make up such wild stories so closely related to my heroic button sewing on while wearing the pants.

4. I sure do love her for making a game effort at giving me something to post about.  (Maybe next time she could actually DO it and then get pictures of the finished product.)

This morning Henrietta told me the music is back.  Actually I asked her when it started and she says she almost always hears it, sometimes just “more” than others.  This would be the mysterious music she hears mostly in her deaf ear that nobody else can hear.  Sometimes “they” are singing in Spanish, sometimes Italian, and sometimes in English.  Often she is offended by the naughtiness of the songs and how “nasty” they are.  It’s always a male singer, (to the best of my knowledge), and late at night and early in the morning seems to be the most frequent times for this phenomenon.  She told me today they were singing in English and then she smiled and said, “Well, I’m just waiting… pretty soon I should be getting Christmas Carols!”

And then she laughed and high fived me!

I swear, I KNEW there was something missing from the half ass post, (HA! HALF ASS!), I threw up last night. I will post again today later, as I think this is a bit of a cop out. (As if the trite, drivel I’ve been throwing up hasn’t been… Whatever!)
Actually, I couldn’t remember how to “embed” and all that techno crap. (Figured it out. Easy-peasy.)
For your viewing pleasure. Plus I am hoping that I can pass this along and get the song out of my head… even if it has to go into yours! Yeah. Sorry ’bout that. (No I’m not.)

Well, I am pulling out all the stops.  I have, in fact, NOT been memed.  I am stealing it anyway.  Dear Ree over at Hotfessional did a meme today that I NEED to do just to have something to say.  While she did not meme me, she did not meme anybody.  She’s spreading the love anyway, cause I’m taking it.

It’s a random thoughts Meme and she got it from Marylin at A Little Space For Me.

So here goes!

• Word for the week in my head…

Emotion.  Keelan is being so emotional and, consequently, making everyone else emotional. There’s no escaping it.

• Thoughts for the week in my head…

I hope, for all our sakes, that this medication works or one of us will surely die.

• Thing for the week in my life…

Henrietta wants to wear bras now and I’ve got to go out somewhere, sometime and find her some.  32 A bras.  Not because she is worried about anything sagging, her boobs are now getting irritated by the tops of her diapers.  No.  I know what you’re thinking.  Her A cup boobs are not hanging that far.  Her spine has deteriorated so far that her torso is the length of a four year old’s.  Literally.

• Song for the week in my head… For days now Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad by Meatloaf has been in my head and I CAN NOT make it stop!

• Food for the week in my belly…

Chicken and dumplings.  Made a huge pot of it tonight and it is soooo good.  I will have to give up my recipe here soon.

• Color for the week in my life…

No idea.  What the hell does that mean?

• Smile for the week on my face…

John doesn’t have to drive to and from Pearland everyday!  Hooray!

• Blessing for the week in my heart…

That John is driving to and from work here close by and has work to drive to, period.

Free toes everybody!

Well, the SIL showed up today.  She hasn’t been here to visit H in a few weeks.  In her defense, (and it doesn’t happen often that I say anything in her defense…), she is without a car right now.  Of course that doesn’t stop her from timing her visit to coincide with my finishing up getting H off the pot and cleaned up.  Somehow she is never here in time to do the potty for HER mother.  It happens at almost the exact same time everyday, and she knows this.  Well, at least she dressed her and drug her into the wheelchair.

I am now hiding in the bedroom and giving her the opportunity to spend some time with her.

Just went in there for coffee and SIL is watching a sappy movie on Lifetime and H is reading the newspaper.  Oh well.  So much for communication.

I think I will go and fetch the broom, and mop stuff and clean the floor in my bathroom as I washed all the bathmats yesterday and I HATE putting them down on the disgusting, hairy, powdery, floor.

Did that, just waiting for the shine stuff to dry and then the rugs go down.

Gee, I can’t believe I have sunk to the point that I am offering blow by blow action on the housecleaning.

SIL left after staying about an hour and 45 minutes.  I guess that’s all she felt she was capable of today.

John is at work having MORE company and a Holiday Open House today.  So I haven’t really heard anything from him.  Oh!  He did let me know yesterday that his boss convinced the bigger boss that he can’t live without him and not to move him.  That’s great, as she would have put him in a far away store in Pearland with a unit director that runs it who has been requesting him.  Loooong commute.

And the thing that tops off everything in this gripping tale that I know you aren’t the least bit sorry you tuned into:

Today I sewed a button on my pants, (are you ready for this?), WHILE I WAS WEARING THEM.

Damn, my days are something to just try to imagine….

Had WWlll today with the 17 year old girl-child and then John came home early to… intercede?  Anyway, no one killed anyone, ( I know.  Letdown in the drama department.  BUT A PLUS ALL AROUND.)  No one’s in jail or had any kind of restraining order issued against them.  Actually the police were NOT called and our record remains intact.  For the moment.

After a loooooong time talking, (listening) to her, and I mean listening intently, I went in to take a long hot bath and, yes, more breaking NaBioPoMo news, wash my hair.  Before I got into the hot inviting water I texted my darling hubbs and said:

Would you bring me a drink?  I’m in the tub…neck-ed.

His response:

Hell yeah!

This far into this month, what do you really expect?  Two loads of laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, swept and mopped the living room, (I did the hall and H’s room yesterday), wiped down the doors with Scott’s Liquid Gold, and a host of other mundane, boring, somewhat depressing things.  At least it seems depressing NOW!  Thanks a lot for making me THINK about it!

H had a U.P. and it was handled without incident.  It happened this morning when she woke up and was in the process of doing a poo.  I was instantly alerted to the unfolding situation.  Oh joy.  Oh Gawd!  Just let me finish this cup of coffee! “Oh sure, Henrietta, no problem!”  And in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t!

She did the usual thing about talking it to death just because it worries her so much for anything unexpected to happen to her body.  I assured her that everybody poops and she will do it when she has food that is ready to come out the other end.  It’s natural and not a bad thing and yadda, yadda, yadda, we’ve been through this a million times.

On the up side the paranoid little freak is taking it much better than she used to!  No tears or headache pills were needed.  The day progressed as usual and she even got out of bed as usual.

The younger offspring is probably going to suffer an untimely death tomorrow and that will give me something to write about then.  She is about to drive me nuts.  She was fine with me all day and as soon as John gets home she turns on me like a devil child.  And neither one of us can understand why.  It’s not like she’s even pitting us against one another.  John doesn’t put up with her acting like that anymore than I do.  I hope the doctor gave it her best guess cause, I swear, if this medication doesn’t work, she may not live long enough to try any other kind.