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The more I look at the pictures of the little owl fellow that flew around in our garage, the more I think it’s a baby.  And not just because it’s small, either.  No, I have found pictures of breeds that are much smaller.  See below.

Pygmy Owl

No, I think it’s a baby just because it’s so ruffled looking.  It doesn’t have the smoothness the adult owls have in the pictures I am finding online.  But then again, it was in MY garage.  I get ruffled every time I go out there too and that obnoxious little dog barking like that…  I bet he was thinking, “If ONLY I were bigger and I could just eat that damned thing to shut it up!”  I don’t know for sure, but since I am having trouble finding a picture that looks like it, I think that it’s a youngster.

Now here’s my story about the last time I had to deal with an owl.  I mean before this.

I was 18 years old and my brother, Cam was 10.  Our dad was in hospital having some heart bypasses, so we were staying at home by ourselves while our mother was at the hospital with him.  We lived in a big ol’ two story house and he and I had never stayed by ourselves before.  (I mean, OF COURSE, right?)  I had been hearing a strange little scratching noise in the wall of my bedroom at night and had decided we must have mice and made a mental note to tell Mither about it as soon as everything calmed down and got back to a more normal routine.  The chimney to the living room fireplace shared my bedroom wall and it never occurred to me that there could be anything in there.  This went on for three nights.  Then, one evening, I was sitting on the couch in the living room reading and all of the sudden there was this gigantic WHOOSH of ashes that flew up in the fireplace.  I couldn’t see anything and then this huge white face with two enormous eyes turned around and looked at me and blinked.  It was a gigantic barn owl.  IT WAS HUGE, PEOPLE.  It just stood there in the fireplace and looked around and at me.  I just sat on the couch without moving like a scared little kitten.  I wasn’t really scared even, I just had no idea what to do.  My brother was asleep and besides that… he was 10.  I called Mom and told her and by this time I watched the owl hop up on top of the damper and sit there.  I stuck my head in the fireplace and could see two great big talons wrapped around the metal edge of it.  I counted myself lucky that I hadn’t received any owl shit in the face, wondered briefly if it really was slick, (My pop was always saying one thing or another was “slicker than owl shit”.), and pulled my head back out.  Mom had said she didn’t know what to do either and she’d be home the next day.  So we agreed that it needed water and food, as it had been there for at least three days, (that’s what I’d been hearing in the wall, actually the chimney).  So I got a little bowl of water and some lunch meat and put it in the fireplace.  I then closed the heavy metal chain link screen…and went to bed.

I have to say that except for the initial whooshing landing in the fireplace I was never really scared of it.  I felt very sorry for it and was worried it was going to die of dehydration, but I just never got the feeling it was threatening.

It never touched the food or water at all, that I could tell.  Perhaps it wanted mayo and wheat bread with pickles.  Perhaps it was a mustard kind of owl.  I don’t know why it turned up it’s…beak to my dinner selection, I only know it did.

So, that next night my dear, brave mither came home and we set about getting the owl out of the house.  It had jumped back down in the fireplace.  Mither was terrified out of her mind awed by it.   I opened the screen and we waited for it to decide to come out.  It was probably a little shy and wondered why we kept peeking around the corner at it.   Finally, it did and we ran in to try to shoo it…somewhere, and it flew straight into the sliding glass door.  No, we had not thought to open it first.  It was freakin cold outside and that’s my excuse.  Whatever.  Anyway, it smacked it’s beak pretty hard and was dazed and confused.  It was like it was competing with us… still think we won the dazed and confused contest…

The poor thing flew around the living room for a short bit and landed on things you wouldn’t think it would choose to land on and then flew through the breakfast area, kitchen, utility room and into the game room, completely avoiding the sliding glass door that stood open.  We followed.  Finally we had it somewhere we thought we could get it out easily.  There was a pair of French doors that one of us opened all the way.  I kept trying to shoo it toward the doors and it seemed oblivious.  It flew all over and finally when I was wondering if we were keeping it and could it please live in my brother’s room, it looked straight at the doors and I almost heard it say, “Ah ha!”  I saw the little light bulb go on over it’s head and it took off.  With both full size doors open it had to tilt diagonally to fit through the opening.  The doors were six feet across.  I don’t even know what the diagonal measurement was.  A lot.  Freakin’ huge-ass owl.

I have to point out that my dear mither was a squealing mess, cowering against whatever wall she could back up against and standing in doorways ready to flee, whilst making small squeaking noises.  Pretty much useless for herding owls.  Luckily, she has proven invaluable for a large multitude of other things… and we all love her dearly.

If you head on over to Psychicgeek, Witchypoo has written a very moving post about Ivy, a two year old little girl that is desperatly ill and is having a life saving treatment withheld from her.  It’s all a bunch of bureaucracy and her mother is trying to do everything possible to help her.  This is an online company that does petitions and I want you to go there and sign up.  Ivy needs all the help she can get.

Would you believe me if I said that I’ve been cooking, baking, and cleaning non-stop for the past few days?  No?  Well, that makes you a smart little cookie, doesn’t it?  If I had a gun to my head and some yo-yo telling me he’d shoot if I didn’t account for my time, I’d be a dead, domestic failure…rather than just a domestic failure.  I guess I’m saying things could always be worse.

I did manage to get a few things done today.  Sweeping the kitchen, breakfast area and utility room and doing my version of mopping to all of those freshly swept areas.  This entails walking around with a spray bottle of one sort of cleaner or another and a handy wipe, bending over spots, squirting, wiping, and moving on to the next spot.  Hey, don’t laugh.  My floor is clean…er.  I put things away left and right that have been slowly piling up for ages and cleaned the kitchen, and did several loads of laundry.

Got H on the bedpan not once, but two times for a grand total of two poos.  This normally throws her into a tailspin.  As I have discussed here before an unscheduled poo, or U. P. is a force of nature to contend with in this house.  She was reciting some panicky sounding prayers the second time I put her on, but other than that she handled it well.

John worked a “close” today and will be home about 11:00 or midnight.  He is enjoying his new boss and things are going smoothly so far.

Yesterday I asked him if he had chased any shoplifters through the parking lot lately and he replied, “No, I’m too fat and old for that.”  To which I immediately responded, “Your not fat.”  He groaned at me.  Seriously though, he’s getting older everyday, but he has lost a lot of weight lately.  He says he’s getting down to his “fighting weight”.  heh, heh, heh.

Pop is going into the hospital next Tuesday to have a defibrillator implanted just under the skin in his chest.  It is a battery operated thing that has two little wires that will be attached to his heart and if it stops beating or falters it will shock it into rhythm.  I don’t know much more than that about it.  Mom will ask more questions, I am sure.  I am wondering how long the batteries last and what changing them entails.

I guess that is all I’ve got to report at the moment.  I haven’t been doing much of anything or feeling like doing anything.  Very blah.  I haven’t even been Plurking.  I have also been neglecting reading the blogs!  And that is very bad of me, for shame and all that stuff!

I’m gonna try to get my shit together and get back here sooner!  Promise.  And I’ll try to have something to say.

Greetings all.  I am up early this morning with many things on my mind and I am quite sure that it will be this evening before I can make sense of it all enough to get it down in a post.  Then I will re-read it and think, “So why was that so hard to say and why did I think I had so much to say?”  I suppose just because it’s been a while since I was good about keeping up here.  I’m not apologizing, cause shit’s been happening.  And I don’t even meant he bedpan variety.  No.  Real, documented and undocumented, shizzle.

Where to start….?

Pop is in the hospital and, actually, is scheduled to get out today.  He told me on the phone yesterday that they told him he could leave this morning so he said he was going to get up at about 3:00am and go.  I told my mom he said that and she laughed and said she hoped he had a ride cause she wasn’t going to get him at 3:00am. He is such a character.

He has emphysema and COPD problems that got a bit of fluid in his lung.  “Pneumonia”, I thought.  “No”, the doctors said, “just some fluid in his lung”.  Huh?  Oh well, my understanding is not pivotal to his outcome, anyway, thank you God.

John got a new boss to work with and it is a vast improvement over the last one.  Oops, he isn’t supposed to be there until Monday, so I suppose that’s jumping the gun.  No it isn’t, cause anything would be an improvement.  Plus he’s worked with this guy before and he’s a pretty good one.  So that’s all good.

Henrietta is getting a new caregiver provider and she starts Tuesday.  They called and asked me if we would mind someone who mostly speaks Spanish and I said no, I didn’t mind and so did H so that’s a go.  As far as I know the hand gestures for indicating you have to poo are a fairly universal thing.  Well, that and H throws in some really good facial expressions leaving no doubt as to the amount of urgency/amount of poo ratio.

Got the first semester bill for older child’s college tuition and that was a nasty little shock.  It was something like $2400.  OK.  Well that sucks.  And that is after her scholarship was deducted.  Shit.  Then a day or two later we got an email saying that there had been an error and everyone had been charged $345. for a…something, can’t remember what they called it, but anyway that was an error and they were going to remove it.  So, OK great.  We looked at her bill and they had deducted the $345. for each of her 4 classes  so that just about halved her bill.  Yea.  Can you say “good news”?  We are college tuition bill virgins, (in this millennium) and had no idea what to expect so we were really anticipating having to spend about two and a half thou on it twice a year.  Next, text books.

And then there is the discussion of the younger daughter moving to Decatur, Texas to live with Nana and Pop for her last year in high school.  Strangely, she wants to do this.  She is disillusioned with her friends right now and hates her job and is worried about Pop and Nana both, mostly because they just plain need help.  Young, limber, strong backed help.  Family help.  Adorable, beloved, grandchild help.  The only thing keeping her from jumping at the first chance of going?  New school.  I really can’t say that I blame her.  I was always adamant that she and her sister never have to change schools if there was anyway we could help it and they never did.  K-12, same school.  I guess I wanted this so badly for them because I have attended 6 different schools in my life.  I didn’t know I was crippling them with an inability to flex and change.   No, I can’t blame her for not wanting to do it.  Very scary stuff, walking into a new school for the first time and trying to find your way around feeling like everyone is staring at you.  The New Kid.

Of course one of the friends she is disillusioned with is out with her right now and they are getting spray tans, eyebrow waxing and manicures.  How really bad could it possible be?

Besides, I am pretty sure she would miss me too much to stay gone for months at a time from me.  Yeah.  That’s the way I am hoping thinking it would go down.

We’re trying to die in this heat.  And not because it’s hot, but because we refuse to be and our light bill is run up to a whopping $600 last month.  NOW we’re being hot because that thermostat is turned way up.  This house is like an oven in the rooms Henrietta is in without the ceiling fans on.  When we are all in the living room and we are getting hot I stand up and turn it on and she looks a bit frantic for a second, (she’s convinced the, “wind will make me sick”), but she doesn’t say anything cause I am fanning my shirt and saying how hot it is.  If I get her a light throw or something to wrap up in she says no, it’s too hot for that, so I know she’s not cold.  Just weird and full of old wives tales.  What can I say, she’s an old wife.

I haven’t been to a movie in years and then about a month or so ago John and I saw the Indiana Jones movie.  Really neat.  Then again, when he was on vacation last week we went to see the new Batman.  Well, Wednesday a good friend of mine came over and we watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants #1 on DVD, and made plans to go and see #2 at theater yesterday.  We really enjoyed it, also.  So I have seen three movies in the past couple of months and before that I bet I hadn’t been in 4 or 5 years.  How weird is that?

While John was on vacation, my brother was home from Italy to visit and finalize the adoption of my brand spanking new nephew.  Older child had to work and could not attend the family reunion, as it were, but younger girl, John and I met up with Nana, Pop and Cam in in a park in the small town of Buffalo, Texas.  We hung out and ate at a near by resturant.  It was good to see him and I never know how long it will be until I can see him again.

Here he is with Keelan.

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.

I have this blouse I got for my birthday from Mither when we went shopping that I started out really liking and now I think I am beginning to see what my family is seeing.  They all, every one of them, has expressed a severe distaste for this shirt.  Even John, who usually thinks if it’s on me it has to be lovely doesn’t like it.  I went terribly wrong somewhere.  Well, I know where.  In Kohl’s.

Does anyone out there have clothes like that?  You know… you buy the thing and maybe wear it a couple of times and finally decide that you must have had some sort of stroke to have picked it out?

Mither, I’m sorry.  But really.  How could you have let me?

It’s OK, I love you and I forgive you.

The Offending Object-Please click to enlarge on it’s… offensiveness.

I don’t know if you can tell or not, but the sleeves and neckline have a strip of satin sewn around them and the sleeves tie in these things that are not bows, yet are big like bows.  And since they are satin ties they slip, no matter how tight they are tied.  So even though they start out pulled up and puffy, (yes, I really said PUFFY), they slip down and are hanging about my elbows the majority of the time that I am not in the actual act of yanking them back up and cussing adjusting them.

I finally put up the new tie rack that my pop made and Mither and Auntie-Poo brought with them when they came to visit last week. No more ties on the floor! I can’t wait until John gets home and sees! Now he owes me-big time!

Behold! The Wall O’ Ties.

My dear Mither brought me the best little gizmo ever! I will share this valuable information with you, dear reader and you are going to thank me! Oh, heck, maybe even bow down and worship me? Well, whatev.

She brought me a Pedegg. And let me tell you it is wonderful, and even gentler than that sweet little Asian lady at the nail salon. Now, I’m not trying to take her job away from her, but she is all of the sudden much less necessary than she used to be. While this little thing can’t paint pretty bright colors on my nails, or dip my tootsies in apricot scented paraffin, it leaves my feet feeling smooth and soft in just a few passes. Actually in a fraction of the time it takes the sweet little Asian lady. It truly is remarkable. When you rub it on your foot it doesn’t feel like it could be doing much of anything and then you open it and there are, literally, a tablespoon or so of dead skin in the bottom of the egg. At this point you will say, “EEWWWW! GROSS!”, and promptly empty it before continuing on to the other foot. Then to smooth even further, there is a little fine grit sanding thing that you rub on your tootsie for a second and you are done. I couldn’t believe it was so fast and simple. They also sell them at various drug stores around. I know for sure they are at CVS and I am betting Walgreens, too.

It is imparative that you go and purchase one immediately for your own tootsies.

On the darker side of things, John had to go back to work today. *sigh* I knew it was going to happen eventually, yet, it always surprises me how fast the week flies by. He has two more vacations coming up sometime this year, but we never know when until a week or so before it happens. His boss has control issues and that’s really all I can say as I have gone and used our real names and all. I have wished several times so far that I hadn’t done that, but, too late now. Any suggestions? Anyway, next time he has a vacation I, so help me, God, will not be sick. I MEAN IT.

It seems so quiet in the house now after company has gone and John has gone and it’s just H and me. However, she is not content to let it be just quiet for long. She is so funny while watching TV. She knows there is no one in the room with her and she chats to the TV through the entire show she is watching. She is not the least bit senile, but the more she enjoys something she is watching the more she talks “to it”. Watching TV with her in the room sucks. You might as well have the volume muted as she can’t begin to make out anything that is being said. Yet she comments on everything going on, so nobody else can concentrate on what is happening. It wouldn’t be SO bad if she was at least correct on her blow by blow description of everything that is happening. Since she can’t understand the dialog she just makes up the story as it goes along and is always far off base. If it wasn’t for the fact that she can make out the sound of a laugh track just about everything we watch would be a murder mystery for her. It is ALL dark and sinister. And everyone that was murdered would have been raped first. She totally equates rape with sexuality and every time a man leers at a pretty woman on the boob tube she says something to the effect of, “Ooooh! He’s going to rape her!” It gets old. I mean think about it, there’s a lot of leering going on on TV. We have DVR, (TIVO), so I will start out a movie by pausing it and asking her what she just said every time she says something and then after a bit she begins to see that the show is going to stop and sit still every time she blurts out what we are all sitting there seeing for ourselves.

Still I have to admit it is funny to sit in another room and listen to her watch TV. Listening to her laugh and comment is really funny. But that’s the only way it should be done!

Well, Mither and Auntie-Poo departed for the long haul home, today. They will be driving north to the Ft. Worth area. We had a lovely time and H was really fairly well behaved. She hasn’t said anything resembling accusations that we were all table-dancing, man-chasing, liquor-swilling, ho’s. I am proud of her.

The house is a wreck. There is no other way to describe it. The combination of me being sick for days before the company came so it wasn’t EVEN in shape when they got here, and then spending the rest of the time frolicking and whatnot, has left it in shambles. (You know how it is once you get started dancing on tables it’s hard to stop). Now we have marauding dust bunnies, piles of dirty clothes that could take your breath away, and a state of general chaos that makes Bosnia look like a sanctuary. Now, don’t think that my dear Mither and Auntie-Poo are the direct cause of this catastrophe. No. They are more the indirect cause. Because since they have been here I have done absolutely nothing in the way of domesticity. I now pay.

In more depressing news, our beloved coffee pot, (I have named her Cecila), is trying hard to get across the point that she needs to be… put down. I know it sounds harsh but, really, she isn’t producing coffee anymore and therefore it is hard to justify her existence at this point. When filled to the top with water for a fresh, aromatic pot of delicious, life sustaining coffee, she “makes about 4 cups and quits. There is always about 6 cups of water left in the reservoir that won’t “make” until it’s been restarted two or three times.

She is only two years old and cost $130.00. This is just soooo wrong. Can you hear me, people?

Please pray for Cecilia. I will surely cry when she goes.

Cecilia

Sorry I have abandoned my…post. BAHAHAHA I have been extremely busy being hostess, getting ready for the big graduation and being sick.

Mither and Auntie-Poo arrived on Wednesday amid much hoopla and fanfare. (Picture parade with confetti.) We were all really, really glad to see them. They haven’t been down here to visit me in a long time. Mither usually comes with Pop to see me a few times a year, but it is a real treat when Auntie-Poo gets to come with her. The three of us together are, well, somewhere between The Three Musketeers and the Three Stooges. We always have a riotous time. We have shopped and sat around a bit and I got my heart blessed a good deal for being so disgusting and sick. The Plague will do that to ya.

Kessa has made this family so proud of her. She has worked so hard her entire academic career, to earn the honors she was presented with last night. She was also a bit excited. A very good bit. I will post a picture of her soon, as all the ones I took were on Auntie-Poo’s nifty new Nikon camera and we gotta figure out how to get ‘em outa there. She looked so pretty, though. She wore the blue robe with a white National Honor Society stole, and had a blue and white cord for graduating Cum Laude and a gold one for National English Honor Society. After the shin-dig, (OK, we ran for our lives after they called her name the second time to receive her fake diploma that she has to wait until…Monday(?) to receive her real one to put in the folder thing.), we had to get out of there to get the grill fired up for shishkabobs. We had a wonderful time and got really full. PLUS I ran no fever all day long. I do believe the worst of the virus that ate my soul and then puked it back out is over with.

Yesterday we went to World Market and bought, (between the three of us), three tins of their wonderful ginger snaps. I am not a huge fan of gingersnaps, normally. Just pretty much take ‘em or leave ‘em kinda gal. But these are the most wonderful things ever and you get a good sized tin of them for about $7.00. WORTH EVERY PENNY.

We also went shopping and I got new clothes from Mither and Auntie-Poo for my birthday. This shopping together for the birthday is a fairly traditional thing with us. It gets me outta the house and is fun and I get stuff that I know for sure I like and fits and will wear. And of course Mither and Auntie-Poo didn’t leave empty handed, either.

We are going to go to breakfast here in a few minutes. You’re invited if you want to come and I’ll pay. I feel sooooo secure in saying that as I am pretty sure readership has dropped off to next to nothing. Again, sorry for the long delay! REALLY!

I feel so bad right now that death is preferable. Well, I guess not really, but, you get the idea. I woke up this morning not feeling particularly good, but not completely wrecked either. By the time I was writing that last post I was thinking the world was coming to an end. I managed to spew out words and get a point or two across, but that’s about it. Now I just await death. My head is killing me and I can’t hear. My whole body is rejecting any notions of making large moves. John and I put up a ceiling fan and a track light. Under protest. From me, anyway. No, not really. He is being very sweet.

I can’t believe this is happening. John is on vacation, Mither and Aunty-poo are coming tomorrow, Wednesday we are having a celebratory dinner with a bunch of our friends for Kes’s graduation and then she is graduating on Thursday. And I’m sick.

Life is so sucking right now.