Thursday, March 12, 2015

Oh Deer...


Yesterday we found a visitor in our side yard.

Well, we didn't so much find him as we SMELLED him.

We don't normally go into the side yard unless we're mowing the grass, and as that hasn't been a priority because...WINTER...we missed the fact that a deer had decided to make our home his final resting place.

Keeled over and gave up the ghost, right there in the yard.  The deer was deceased.  It had passed on. It was no more.  It ceased to be.

This was a late deer.*

To say we were thrilled just doesn't cover the depth of our emotion.

I called the Animal Control desk as soon as we discovered our special little gift, but they were closed for the evening.  Apparently animals don't need controlling 24/7.  I waited until bright and early this morning to call again.  This time I got a human being.

"Animal Control, how may I help you?"

"We seem to have acquired a dead deer at our address.  Would you please come and dispose of him/her/it?"

"Well, we'll come out and take a look, but if it's on private property we may not be able to help you."

"Q)@#(Q&%%*($^E*^*)!!!!!!!"

That last sentence didn't really happen.

After some discussion, Animal Control agreed to come out and look at the deer.  They wouldn't take it away, but they would certainly set eyes on it for us.  Our tax dollars are hard at work!

When the truck came by before I left for work, I asked the "looker" what could be done next.  He said he would be in contact with the Public Works Department, and they would look to see if they could haul it away for us.  The only reason they would be able to do so is because the decomposing deer was in full view of the street.

Otherwise, we would have to either have a barbeque or find a pack of wolves to assist us.

Suburbia...you gotta love it.

When last I spoke with Hubster, he informed me that our dear deer was no more.  The Public Works people apparently took pity on us and hauled it off.

The deer has rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

This was an ex-deer.*



*(with apologies to Monty Python...)

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

Nag, Nag, Nag



It is hard for me to remember my twenties.

It isn't difficult to remember what actually happened, even though I am of a certain age.  It's just hard to remember because it causes me pain.

I was a really, really stupid person back then.  I've learned a lot, but I can still be really, really stupid at times.  Stupid is as stupid does, and I does stupid well.

That's why I HAVE to remember what it was like to be in my twenties.  And that's why I have to give some grace to my kids.

It's rough to do that sometimes.

For instance, a certain woman in her twenties still has her health insurance paid by us, even though she may or may not be covered by her new employer at this moment.  That is a $150.00 question - the amount it costs us each month to be sure she's covered with private insurance.  If I knew for certain that she was covered by her employer now, I could drop the coverage we have, thereby saving $150.00 each month.

However, getting that information from her is similar to trying to train a worm to jump through a hoop.

If I ask and she agrees to get it but doesn't follow through, that turns me into a nagging mother each additional time I ask.  The expressive "YES, Mother!" texts I get after each subsequent reminder inform me that she is none too pleased with being asked yet again for the information I need. Because she has no stake in this, she really doesn't care. Short of calling her employer myself, I have no way to find out what I need to know.

So, what would you do in this situation?

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Fourteen Things I Wish I Knew When I Was Young

FLASH:  I am no longer young.

I KNOW.

I have been thinking about all the different things the Old Me would tell the Young Me.  However, knowing the Young Me as intimately as I do, I know she would never listen.

Here's a snippet of what wisdom I would try to share:

1.  Your weight is just exactly right.  You are perfect the way you are.  You will NEVER get down to 110 lbs., and you can be really happy without All the Dieting.

2.  Boys WILL like you.  Not only for your figure, but who you are inside.  They will appreciate the way God made you physically and mentally.  You do not have to change to meet their expectations of who or what you SHOULD be.

3.  Your prince will come.  Be patient.  Don't fall for the first of many pseudo-princes.  Wait for Prince Charming to appear.  He may not look or act like the fairy tale prince, but you will know he's YOUR prince.  There will be no doubt.

4.  Don't give it all away before your prince comes.  What you have to give a man is precious.  Only share it with someone you know will appreciate you for who and what you are, someone who truly loves you forever and a lifetime.  That being said, if you should decide not to listen (as you usually do), find some kind of reliable birth control, preferably the Pill.  And take it religiously.  If you don't, you will end up with a son you love more than life itself, but also a divorce.  You will also never get that elusive degree you want so much because you will be forced to work to support yourself and that beautiful baby.

5.  Save money.  Learn how to budget.  Enroll in retirement savings.  Don't get a credit card.  Don't go into debt, except for something like a house.

6.  Appreciate and love your mother, and show her how much she means to you every time you get a chance.  Encourage her to branch out on her own and to leave that worthless piece of poop that fathered you.  She is worth far more than he could ever know.

7.  Use the talent you have.  Not just to impress others, but for yourself.  Sing.  Read.  Write.  Play.  Do it all with abandon, diligently, and with a purpose.  Love what you do.

8.  Don't settle.  Have the courage to wait until what you want to happen....happens.  Work toward it, and appreciate it when it comes.  Do what you love!

9.  Become someone who talks to children and enjoys it.  Enjoy playing.  Enjoy story time.  Enjoy cuddling and coloring and balloons.  Let your inner child live through your actions.  Become someone your children can love, rather than one who always says "NO" to them.

10.  Get your education.  Take it as far as you can, for as long as you can.  Make the most of it.

11.  Help people.  Listen to them, encourage them, give them what you have.  Share.  Let them know that they, too, are worth it.

12.  Love God.  Love Him through your devotion, your wealth, your time, your BEING.  Love Him in the way you treat yourself and others.  Know that God made you, and He understands and loves you, even when you fall short.  He loves you more than any sin you commit, more than even you love your own children.

13.  Be thankful for what you have.  Appreciate the life you have been given.

14.  See the best.  In people, in circumstances, and in life.

Friday, February 06, 2015

Bang Your Head HERE


I need me some head-bangin' music going on.

I need to hear drums, and some ROCK AND ROLL.

I need it LOUD and I need it NOW.

There are just some days that call for it, and today is one of those days.

That is all.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Ready, Set, Set, Set, Set....

courtesy UnHerd 


I have this problem.

It pervades all of the areas of my life, from writing to cleaning the house.

I just don't know where to START.

I can sit and look at the house and think about what needs to be done ALL DAY LONG, but when it actually comes to doing something?  Well, I tend to sit and look at the house and think about what needs to be done some more.

Unfortunately, Hubster is too much like me in this regard.

Yes, the bathrooms need to be updated.  Tile is falling off of the walls, there's black mold developing, grout is worn away, and the sinks were original to the house, circa 1957.  Clearly something has to be done, and soon.

I got estimates from two different contractors, and then we looked at them.  We bemoaned how much it would cost on our limited income.  We said we could do some of it ourselves, lowering the cost. We agreed it would be best not to go for expensive, but serviceable. 

And we looked at it some more.

And we looked.

And we looked.

And then, just for grins, we looked some more.

In the meantime, no matter how much we prayed over them, the bathrooms weren't being healed.

"We'll wait for The Girl to move into her apartment," we said. "We'll wait for The Boy to go off to the university to live.  THEN we'll redo the bathrooms," we said.

Like as not, they will fall down around our ears before they are ever begun.

Such are the lives of procrastinators.