Archive for the 'Blather' Category

Horses, worms, lack of funds, and horse race.

Tuesday, November 4th, 2008

Well, the damn horses are causing all kinds of problems for us.  Dandy, the mare, yes, I said a horse named Dandy is a mare, (grown female horse for all of you unfamiliar with horse jargon), has a bad cut on the back of her ankle again.  She and the little whipper-snapper, Alcape, (Also another female, although a colt…also known as a filly), are both, according to the test results, wormy.  Not the end of the world, but the stupid vet should have called us weeks ago and told us and they didn’t call so I thought the test results were negative.  I mean that’s what the people doctors do.  Anyway I asked them to mail the negative test results to the barn where the horses are kept and apparently they never did.  I guess it’s a good thing since the results were positive for worms.  So now we are having the vet go out to look at Dandy’s leg and worm both of them tomorrow afternoon.  Like we’ve got the money for that!  Younger daughter does, for sure, not make enough money to support her horse habit.  She is putting everything she comes home with toward feed, board, and vet bills.  She is now agreeable to the idea of selling them.

We are aaaaallllll over this.

So when I signal for H to stop talking to me because I am on the phone and she keeps talking to me by asking, “Who are you talking to?”  And I reply, “I’m talking to a man about a horse.”.  It’s not a euphemism.

Now I gotta go and see who is winning this other horse race that’s on every single non-cable channel on TV.

Caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go please!

Monday, November 3rd, 2008

I know what I need to order for Christmas…

And IT’S A PILLOW!  How perfect is that?!

As you may have already considered, I don’t’ “get out” much.  I mean I don’t want to sound whiny, I do leave the house at least twice a week and sometimes more, (sometimes less).  But shopping for Christmas is always a real challenge.  I lurves me some catalogs!  This particular one is called Potpourri.  This particular item is on page 28.   Isn’t it adorable?  I bet you know several people who would love it.  Oh, it’s item #R86-065.

Anyway, I just wanted to share, plus, I may be short on posts this month due to the effort to post EVERY SINGLE DAY, so when I find something I think is neato, you may be subjected to it.

Yeah.  That would be my disclaimer.

More later?  Only if it’s mentionable.

NaBloPoMo, birthdays and the best cake recipe EVER

Sunday, November 2nd, 2008

Well, a day late and a…

It’s November and it’s National Blog Posting Month, or NaBloPoMo, as everyone is calling it.  I should have mentioned this yesterday on November 1st, but, hey, I’m just unorthodox, non conformist, a freak like that.  So the deal is that if you are going to take up the NaBloPoMo challenge you whip out a post every single day for the whole month.  I’m not sure I can come up with anything good to say, but jabber has always been one of my specialities.

I dunno, people.  John has had two days off in a row and went back to work today and of course the store is a hellhole.  (One of the reasons he hates to be off two days back to back.)  I think his boss really thinks he’s doing him a favor when he does this to his schedule.

I have been discussing the situation with Witchy-poo and she was of the opinion that they were possibly softening him up before sending him to the new, gi-normous, grand opening store.

I don’t think they’re concerned enough about how he feels to bother with softening him up.  This just sounds nothing like them.  His immediate boss is a fairly nice guy, though a bit incompetent.  But the higher up one is a tee-total bitch.  I believe, in my heart of hearts, she is very proud of this.

Kes just came home from work and dashed in to nab my credit card and run out and buy herself some new bras.  She was in worse shape than me, if that’s possible.  (Yes, it is.)  She had only one bra left and recently the underwire broke through and gouged into her boob leaving a nasty puncture wound.  I couldn’t believe it when she showed me the wire.  It was sharp as a needle!  A man must have designed it.

It’s 1:50 PM now and I’m just waiting for H to poo.  I believe I will do some laundry.

It is now 3:23 and H is pooed and dressed and in the wheel chair.  Except for feeding her, I am done for the day until time to put her to bed.  Unless there is the dreaded U.P. (For those of you so unfortunate you missed a particular explanatory post, this means “unscheduled poop”.  Try to keep up.  There may be a test.)

On October 25th, while my dear Mither and Pop were here, my good friend, Lisa had a birthday and we felt it very necessary to celebrate with great food and even better company.  Here is Lisa blowing out the candles that I lovingly placed on her birthday cake.

There was some discussion about the actual numerical amount represented by the flaming digits on the cake.

I was concerned that I may have gotten the number wrong because I wasn’t sure if the third candle is a one or a seven.  Lisa was, as usual a good sport about it and insists that when you hit 65,000 whats 600 years give or take?  I guess I can see her point.

You too can achieve this affect if you save every single numerical candle your kids have ever used on a cake.  And it could have been even longer if the cake was bigger!

I am going to call dear Mither and ask her for the recipe for this particular cake and be so generous as to give it to YOU!  It is, really, the very best cake in the world.  Lisa has had it before and she has told me many times that it’s her fav, too.  For a scratch cake it’s really very easy.

It’s supposed to be called Chocolate Sheet Cake, but, it’s known around here as BIRTHDAY CAKE.

BIRTHDAY CAKE

(CHOCOLATE)

2 c. sugar

2 c. flour

4 Tbsp. cocoa

1 stick butter

1 c. boil water

Add the following in this order and beat after each:

2 eggs

1/2 c. buttermilk

1 tsp. soda

1 tsp. vanilla

1/2 tsp. salt

Bake in greased and floured 9×13 sheet cake  pan at 400 for 20ish minutes.  Frost as soon as it comes out of the oven.

FROSTING

Bring to a boil:

1 stick butter

4 Tbsp. cocoa

1/3 cup of milk

Add one box of confectioners sugar (2 cups), and 1 teaspoon vanilla.  Mix well.  One cup of nuts, (optional).

THAT is the most moist cake I have ever tasted… Moistest?  Moisty?  Moistester?

Whatev.

Here’s a weird little dog.

Monday, October 13th, 2008

We took Baby to have her groomed the other day and I must say that I still find myself breaking out into a snorting laugh when I look at her.

Let me preface this photo by saying that when you cross a peek-a-poo, (pekingese and poodle mixture), with a Pomeranian you get a… noteworthy dog.  I am going to be very careful with my adjectives here.  She really is quite cute in person, just because she is so gregarious and smart… maybe not so much because of looks.  The truly hysterical thing was losing all that body hair, and there was a LOT of it, made her ears even huger, if that’s possible.

Ears up with her trademark smile.

Ears up with her trademark smile.

Ears down and caught with mouth open while reciting a line of poetry...mid-sentence.

Ears down and caught with mouth open while reciting a line of poetry...mid-sentence.

Is it just me or does that first pic of her look a lot like the little critters in the movie, Gremlins?

Is it Wednesday already?

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

As I said in the last post, John is on vacation this week.  We have managed to get a few things knocked off the list of “Stuffs to Do”.

*Make a new Financial Plan.

That, right there, just makes me want to giggle when I consider how misleading the whole statement looks.  But, yeah.  It’s done.

*Track down and attack the person in charge of getting H a new wheelchair.

Done.  It’s all shiny new and she’s got her bony ass in it right now.  I was somewhat disappointed, but there was no bloodshed.  The lady seemed fully cooperative and got on the ball as I indicated she needed to.  The wheelchair was delivered within 24 hours of hanging up the phone with her.  If only everything were that easy…

In addition to these things there were some others that never got put on the list that we did and I wish we had put them on there just so they could be crossed off.  We:

*Cleaned the garage

We threw away a butt-load of old crap that was, mostly…OK, entirely Henrietta’s.  She was safely ensconced inside or none of it would have gone to the curb and actually, the boxes o’crap would have spontaneously reproduced themselves and made more to clean up.  This is a phenomenon particular only to H as far as I can tell.  She cannot be turned loose with any amount of stuff to “Go through it and throw away the trash, Henrietta.”.  The pile o’shit will grow and grow and I swear she has a wicked kind of black magic that she uses and produces more old greeting cards, plastic plants, (complete with plastic flowers), broken jewelry boxes and picture frames, (with and without torn pictures that don’t fit the frame), glued together coffee cups, moth eaten clothes that she hasn’t worn since 1958, thousands of ancient books on Catholicism, (I mean we’re talking copyrighted in the 50’s and 60’s), and an assortment of shit that defies description.

*Got John a new bluetooth that will work with his new phone.

Tomorrow we compare insurance rates and caulk the shingles.  Or, rather, I should say, I will caulk the shingles.  While John’s not scared of heights, it just goes without saying that any work being done on a ladder is going to be done by me.  I don’t know why this is, it just is.  DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR ME.  Any grocery shopping that gets done, is done by him.  Well, almost all.  I feel like this is a fair trade, and what I think is what’s important.

We had fajita papas tonight, (beef fajita meat with cheese, salsa, chives, sour cream, etc. piled into a baked potato),  and the SIL and her guy friend were here and they stayed and ate.  They were very good and I highly recommend that everyone show up at our house the next time we have them and partake.  I guess I really should give a heads up when we are about to do them again.  I will.

OH!  Tomorrow I hope to have the garage finished, also!

Free toes, everyone!

Wads bean hapnin…

Saturday, October 4th, 2008

Hello again, people.

A few days ago Keelan was sitting in living room on the couch reading her book  I was talking to Henrietta about something and I forget what we were discussing but it became necessary for me to use the word Fritos.  Well, let me preface this by explaining that the only thing worse than H’s hearing is her comprehension.  Her little mind races and she… tries too hard(?) and over thinks what you are saying and totally gets the words screwed up.  It’s like playing Password with a hyper, narcissistic, mental patient.

Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t remember what we were talking about but I used the word “Fritos”.   Only when I said it to H it was broken into two distinct syllables and enunciated very clearly.  FREE TOES! (Imagine me shouting into her ear…)   Well, Keelan tried to die.  First I heard her snort and then she said, “Did I just hear you say ‘free toes’?”  and she was gone.  Dissolved into a fit of giggles that wouldn’t stop.

Did not matter how hard I tried to explain to her why I had said it that way, she would. not. stop. laughing.

I finally just said “OK!  I’m from Texas AND SO ARE YOU!  Is it really so hard to figure out why I went “there” with the word?”

Now every time I want to make her smile, I just say “Free toes”.  And sometimes I text her, “Free toes”.

John is going to be on vacation next week, starting tomorrow and we have a list of things to do.  (oh yea)  He is going to need some time to recuperate from the hurricane schedule they have had to adhere to at work and truly I feel for him about this because I know he is truly tired.

But here’s the list anyway:

*Caulk the shingles

*Change phone companies

*Compare insurance rates, USAA and Allstate

*Make a new financial plan

*Track down and attack the person in charge of getting Medicare to give H a new wheelchair.

And this is just the beginning.

Thursday “they” came by and picked up all the brush piled on our curb since the hurricane.  Things are beginning to look a bit more normal around here.  At least our street is.  Except for all the sawed off trees and huge holes in the ground where they just pulled up, root ball and all.

I called Housecall Doctors today and asked them to tell me how the x-ray came out that they did on H on Thursday.  The Dr on call called me back and told me that, (surprise, surprise), she has a dislocated hip.  I said I already knew that and explained the problem to him and told him her history and what I was worried about.

He told me to take her to see a orthopedist.

This lady is an orthopedist’s wet dream.  I wonder where he’ll start?  I figure that’s one of the things that will go on John’s vacation list after I talk to Darnell, her PA.

Well, I really need to toss this post up and see what happens.  Will the pooter spit it back out?  It should.

Free Toes, everybody!

All about H’s ass, but NO POOP!

Wednesday, October 1st, 2008

Hello!  Today, boys and girls, I have been busy talking to Henrietta’s P. A. (physician’s assistant), home health care nurse, and the x-ray technician who came out to snap some glamor shots of her.

She’s got a totally bizarre and perplexing problem residing in her… (are you ready for this… go ahead and take a wild guess…) ass.

To make a long story short, (Yes.  I am aware nobody thinks I can do this. *sigh* Now I am going to have to prove myself…) She broke her hip a couple of years ago and while she was still in the hospital recovering from the hip surgery, they called me and said it was dislocated.  Doc said her muscles “contracted” and pulled her leg out of socket.  She would need surgery again to fix it cause it would just pull out again if he manipulated it back in.  Strangely enough, the old woman that makes the princess and the pea gal look insensitive wasn’t in any pain so she elected not to have the surgery.  I believe it was one of her cuter moments, she looked at me when I explained her options and said, “I don’t want to have surgery again, Krissa.  I’m old, already!”.  She was 84 and I didn’t argue with her.  So all this time she’s had a dislocated hip.  Or, actually, I don’t know why it’s called that because really her femur is dislocated from her hip.  Well, all of the sudden her leg bone has started… migrating around in her, butt.  Her hip is all wonky crooked seeming and the head of the femur is poking out in the thickest part of her gluteus maximus.  This makes it very painful to sit on for any length of time.  Her butt is bruised from the inside.

At this point I would like to point out that this was promised to be a short story not a normal one.

Anyway, the P.A. and I sat there by her bed poking around and talking about what’s up with her bones and placing bets on what the x-ray will show and what we think the different odd bits poking out here and there are going to turn out to be.

I do know one thing.  I see an operation in her future.  Before long that bone is going to start a bedsore that I won’t be able to cure because anytime she is sitting or lying on her back she is pressing against it.  Constant pressure.

John called while I was in there talking to the P.A. and asked what I was doing.  I said, “Looking at your mom’s ass with Darnell.  Do you want me to tell you about it?”  “No!  I gotta go, they’re paging me.”

The pansy-ass.

Ick…er, Ike.

Saturday, September 27th, 2008

OK, I am so glad to be back and will go immediately to read everyone as soon as I throw this miserable excuse for a post up!  You might want to wear a neck brace while reading… it jumps around a bit.

First of all I would like to thank my brother, Cam for updating everyone during my absence.  I really hope he only chokes a little on the vino he’s going to be drinking in beautiful Italy this weekend.  heh heh heh

Love ya Cam!

Today is September 27 and we just got internet up and working as of yesterday.  Two weeks after the stupid storm!  I started transcribing a post from a pile of scraps of paper onto Word Friday of last week, (when we got electricity back), and am keeping my fingers crossed that I will be able to successfully copy and paste it to the Wordpress thingy which acts strangely at best due to the fact that I am cursed with Vista.

Here goes nothing!

Hello there, interwebs! I am back, finally, and I missed you all! I am starting this on Friday, September 19, 2008 and am a bit flummoxed at the thought of trying to get caught up. Luckily, I jotted down notes here and there during the last few days. Following this paragraph is a fairly random collection of them starting Friday afternoon, Sept. 12, the day hurricane Ike laid us out. We just got electricity back at about 12:30 in the afternoon, yesterday. Six days after it went out. And while I know we have so very much to be grateful for and are truly blessed to have survived virtually unscathed, I can’t help but point out that living in this humidity and heat, without floor to ceiling windows on all the exterior walls, is a gruesome ordeal that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Well, OK, maybe that would be the perfect kinda conditions for my worst enemy, but my point remains that I can’t imagine hating anyone with that much intensity…you get my drift?

6:00pm Friday evening- the power company cuts the electricity. Winds are starting to pick up just a bit and we all know the big ones are coming. The preemptive electric outage is to keep people from injury, (and certain death), when the lines fall.

The following night is harrowing. H is given an Adivan and sleeps through the entire thing. (Thank you God, for Adivan.)

Apparently I will take anyone or anything in to shelter through a hurricane including, but not limited to, stray dogs and a 6 ½ foot red tailed boa.

The poor dog was left here when his crumby owners evacuated. They left the gate open and left. Just like that. The other neighbors and I were talking about it and the fact that one sweet lady down the street had taken him in. This was Friday afternoon and Ike was due to show up that night. She was saying that her chocolate Labrador was trying to tear down the door to the room where she had the dog, so I offered to take him off her hands until after the whole dealy-o blew over. He really was sweet and well behaved, just scared to death of everybody AS IF HE HAD BEEN ABUSED. The deal was that the house next to us on the corner with the trio of sweet little girls was going to take him in when it was over. Of course the next day my daughter’s boyfriend left the gate open and the dog went in the backyard via the doggy door and promptly left. So, in the rain, John and I drove around the neighborhood until we found him and I got out IN THE RAIN AND CHASED AND BEGGED AND PLEADED AND CONJOLED, and yes, cursed, that dog into letting me catch him and haul him into the car, (where anybody would want a wet dog).

I then took him to the little girls and dumped him on them. They were delighted and I still haven’t gotten any evil looks from their mother so, here’s hoping…

Keelan has a friend of some standing…with her at least. Anyway, this kid has a large family with three cars between them and other pets involved and he claimed that there wasn’t room for the tank that accommodates the huge ass snake and, of course, not the snake either. Am I easy or what? NO. Don’t answer that!

Saturday AM- It is rapidly becoming evident that I will be requiring a shower every 15 to 20 minutes. The temperature is hovering in the low 90’s with 110% humidity. From our front yard the neighborhood looks like….Bosnia. A total war zone. I turned to John and said, “Honey, I don’t think you’ll make it into work today…”

Big Mess! Hot, so very hot. The power lines are all underground in our neighborhood, but the one next to us has huge trees snapped off halfway up and just flipped up with gigantic root balls sticking up in the air. They are all laid over on the power lines. We can’t get into it for all the debris so we just drive by looking in from the road betweenus.

All we could hear was the constant chainsaw and generator noise backed by the incessant drone of emergency vehicle sirens and low flying news choppers with the occasional med-a-vac , Army and Coast Guard helicopter thrown in for good measure. All the windows are open and there is hardly a breath of air moving through this house. It is stifling.

Last night we had hurricane and, of course all the windows were closed tight and most were boarded up.I set the thermostat extremely low in the house during the day so it would be a cool as possible when we lost the lights. The cool air lasted partially through the night.

Well, when Henrietta said she was ready to go to bed I rolled her in there and got her ready and she said, “Oh, close the window, Krissa.” I said, no, we really would have to leave them open because it was too hot in the house with it closed. “Oh Noooo! I’m fine! Really! I’ll be all right. Just close the window. “ No, Henrietta. You’re room is directly across from ours and in order for us to have any kind of ventilation at all we need your window open. Then, (very pointedly ignoring what I have explained and attempting to act as if it is beyond her comprehension), “Oh no, Krissa. I CANNOT HAVE THE WINDOW OPEN. No, no… I never have and I don’t want it open.” By this time John showed up and backed me with the whole argument. She see’s that she’s not going to get her way….at least not easily, so she turns on the tears. We both stand firm and she shuts them off. I swear it’s like flipping a damn switch. I left the tacky venetian blinds she insists on having drawn at all times down and closed and had to sneak back in and open them when she was asleep.

I am told by my mother on my cell phone that we are supposed to be boiling our drinking water for 1 minute. So I am boiling huge pots of water on the stove to pour in the sink and wash dishes in. Thank God, we have a gas stove.

The entire house gets significantly hotter when you are boiling huge pots of water on the stove with no A/C.

You really can make coffee by pouring boiling water into a carafe with coffee and letting it sit for a bit and then pouring this disgusting looking sludge through a filter into a cup. I found that using a paper towel worked even better than a filter because it would conform to the shape of the cup better.

I would kill for an old fashioned board game of some kind. As of two garage sales ago, we got rid of all of ours.

By the time there was enough trees moved for us to make it off of our block, (a day later) we decided to try to make it to our friends house a few neighborhoods over. They had evacuated and had asked us if we could check on their house the first chance we got.

Our neighborhood has all the electrical and phone lines underground, but the one next to ours has even more mature trees and it’s all above ground. At least every other house had a huge tree either broken in two and lying on the lines and/or house or the trees were just lying over with a gigantic root ball pulled up and sticking in the air. It was crazy. We weren’t able to make it by our friend’s house that day or the next as there was no way to get there. The streets were impassable immediately around it. John finally got by a few days later on his way to work. Thankfully, they had no flooding and no trees on their house.

ALMOST OUT OF COFFEE.

You CAN read trashy novels by candlelight. NO, it doesn’t make sweating your body weight romantic.

My neighbors really are wonderful people and we all pull together really well when there is an emergency.

One really bizarre, other worldly experience was realizing that even three days after it was all over, there were still no birds/bird sounds or flying bugs. Saturday afternoon I went with John up to the grocery store he manages to see how bad it was or wasn’t and as we were driving through the parking lot I saw a baby egret sitting on one of those big metal grid storm drains. It just sat there as we passed by it and had one leg down in the hole and the other one clutching the grate. I thought it was stuck and had John stop and I got out and went over to it, picked it up and the poor thing just looked at me. It was clearly in shock. I believe it was thinking something to the tune of, “What the hell. Of course the human lady will pick me up. After the night I’ve had, what else could I expect? This is nothing”. I carried it over and put it in some bushes and it immediately scrambled under them better.

What is it with me and strange baby birds? Owls, Egrets, what next?

Sunday – John goes back to work and it’s a hell hole. Everything was wiped out, pretty much before he left on Thursday. The benevolent souls at the top of the corporate ladder, (or whoever), decided to actually close the store on the Friday of the storm. I must say that this surprised me somewhat as the storm was due to show up fairly late that evening. Believe me when I say that if Walmart or Target had stayed open, they would have, also. The thought was that they wouldn’t let the managers go in time for them to evacuate their families, so they would give them a few hours head start on getting their houses boarded up before the wind got there. And that, my friends, is as much as can ever be expected of these people. John had worked 12 hour day’s everyday that week in preparation for the storm, as had the other managers at all the stores on the gulf coast in the chain. When they got back to work on Sunday, they spent the greatest part of the day throwing out every last parcel of meat, frozen and refrigerated food. I came to find out the generator only runs a few lights and the registers if the power goes out and that’s all it did. They reopened with virtually empty shelves and zero meat, dairy and frozen foods.

People were understanding and patient, helpful to each other about information and standing in line.

Over the next few days things really went downhill fast. Trucks arrived as often as they could possibly get there and it became harder and harder to explain why WHEN EVERYONE RUNS OUT OF THEIR REFRIGERATED ITEMS AT THE SAME TIME IT IS VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SUPPLY THE DEMAND. Not to mention the bread everyone was going through, along with chips and snack items, etc.

Sunday night- Henrietta apparently has given some thought to the window situation and feels she did not put on her best performance last night. Tonight, she pulls out all the stops. She announces that she can’t sleep like that and she woke up afraid over and over last night. Bullshit. Not a chance. She NEVER wakes up when she’s taken an Adivan and she would have rung her bell if she was the least bit afraid. She argues with us both about it and continues to insist the window has to be down. She apparently has absolutely no regard for how anyone else might feel or how much sleep her own son may or may not get before he trudges off to work like a dog for 12 to 14 hours. Finally she tells us that we are abusing her by leaving her window open and I have had it. I got in her face and John looked l at her like he was going to explode. I unloaded a bit and she started to dry up some. There really is no end to her selfishness when it comes to her own little wants and paranoia’s. Needless to say her window stayed open. She told me to “Pleeeeease keep me blinds down, Krissa!” I certainly will. Until you are asleep…

Monday- There is not a word from her about the window or the blinds or anything else at bedtime. Halleluiah!

And the rest of the time until the lights are back on, (Friday), she doesn’t say another word about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will post the rest of the… story tomorrow and add the missing pictures.  Come to find out they are riding around in John’s pocket on his jump drive and he is at work, (where else).  I’ll get them when he gets home.  Things are still very disorganized around here and I’m having a hard time getting back in the normal groove.  Sorry.

General goings on and CONTEST.

Tuesday, September 9th, 2008

Hi intertubes people!  How’s it hangin?  We’re fine here and intend to be right up until we are washed away by Ike.  No, not really.  I don’t think he’s going to stray this far north, we’re just going to get a good deal of rain.  Oh well, we were behind in that department anyway.  I just hate getting caught up all at once…*sigh*

A few strange things happened today.  Firstly, my 17 year old girl child has gone to a City Council meeting with a friend of hers that is in a  US Government class.  Her friend says she needs, “moral support”.  Yeeeah.  Sure.  Keelan says she is going to have US Government next semester so why not?

John and I are taking bets on how long they are allowed to stay before being thrown out.  Their odds are not good.  Contact your bookie.

I have been sitting here watching The Weather Channel and I cannot, for the life of me, come up with a good solid reason for wanting to live in Cuba, year round, except for that pesky Castro not letting anyone leave…  I mean these people get totally flayed by multiple hurricanes every single year.  They wind up to cat 4 and 5 and go tearing across the island, sometimes twice per storm.  These people, for the most part, live in a near poverty situation and are flattened over and over.  Hundreds and hundreds die every year.  And they couldn’t leave if they wanted to.  Not even just for Hurricane season.  And that just seems wrong.  They should all be allowed to leave during the season for, oh, Europe or something…  God knows I wish I could.

Someone should complain.

H has a new caregiver provider person.  YES!  Again!  I know, I know.  I have reported this several times already, and no, I wasn’t lying.  The latest is “Tiffany”.  So far so good.  Please, everybody cross your fingers. She stayed here with H today while we ran frantically around for our allotted three hours.  Got back and she had done all the things I had verbally laid out for her to do.  And for those of you wondering, no, she won’t do taxes or windows.  Henrietta got a “bed bath” and put in the chair and her sheets changed.  Plus she cooked her breakfast and washed and figured out where to put all the dishes up.  All this was amidst her being visited by the nurse and then a very nice little lady from the church that comes by to give her communion.  I didn’t ask her to clean H’s bathroom or clean her room or anything cause we were having such a hard time getting out of here and she’s new, so I would have had to take more time than I already had when I showed her what to cook for her breakfast and how and where it all was.

I swear.  If she starts not showing up, I will scream.  She is very nice and H really likes her and each time she has left, Henrietta says, “Oh thank you so much for everything you did and please come back!”  How sad is that?  I will talk to her about trying to muster up a tear next time…

So far the contest has been hotly debated.  I have given up clues in the comments section, but, I swear, it’s something that is unusual to any mans dress shirt and is the reason John refuses to wear it.  It is an obvious thing at first glance and we should have noticed it except that it’s not that obvious.  Obviously.  I can feel all the obvious evil thoughts you people are sending me, now…  Oh!  There has been one winner so far!  And she’s not even a regular commenter.  I erased her comment immediately as soon as I got it and wondered, just as quickly, why I had set it up this way.  I should have said the first person to get the correct answer.  But I didn’t so if you can figure out what is such an obvious problem with the shirt that John won’t wear it you get a shot at the lovely prize also.

More tomorrow.

Ongoing post.

Monday, September 1st, 2008

9:45 Saturday evening.

Greetings, intertubes.  I am sitting here watching The Weather Channel and trying to out-predict the weather man.  This should not prove difficult, as he looks like he graduated from high school last year, or maybe the year before that.  God knows I have lived through many, many more hurricanes than he can remember.

It is going to Louisiana… poor bastards.

10:29 Sunday morning

It’s been a long time since I lived in Louisiana, but I swear I don’t remember them having presidents of parishes.  I couldn’t believe some guy on the news was referring to this guy as “Mr. President”.  Then there was a crawler across the bottom that said he was the president of the parish.  For those of you who don’t live in Louisiana, a parish is the same thing as a county.  Except, apparently, they have presidents.  Weird.

The stinking mold is back.  Except, really it doesn’t stink.  And it looks different.  Instead of a white powder it’s…fluffy.  No.  I have not been smoking anything or eating anything that lived down there with the mold.  There was no indication that we had any at all and I would have never known if I hadn’t just reached under there and wiped my hand to check for it.  John thinks that if we hadn’t found it maybe it would change into the powdery kind like we had before.  I don’t really know what to think.  AND I don’t know why it’s here.  STILL.

I have an awesome post waiting in my camera to be unleashed.  But, sadly, the camera card wasn’t in my camera when I took the awesome pictures and they are committed to internal memory so I have to have a cord to download to the pooter.  Guess what I can’t find?  I know.  Enough excuses already!  I will look for one on Tuesday when John is off and the sitter is here to take care of H.

12:35 pm Sunday  SIL just left.  She showed up and visited for about an hour with her mother and helped me change one diarrhea diaper.  I suppose she thinks she has contributed as much as necessary until next week.  She brought her 11 year old grandson with her and she just walked in where I was and said “I guess I’ll go.  He’s already ready!”  No shit?  An 11 year old boy isn’t having fun at my house with absolutely nothing to do except watch tv?  Shocking.  Wonder what she’ll do to break outa here in no time next week…