I decided I had too much energy today and it was a good day to burn that energy by cleaning some carpets. I drug out the steam cleaner and went to work in the bathroom. The bathroom and steam cleaners don't really get along. My last one passed away in there. Twice. Really. As luck would have it, my second cleaner decided to kick the bucket, too. Not totally, it just needed a swift kick in the arse to jump start it again.
Now I'm not afraid of appliances. I get that from my dad. He's the guy who takes everything apart. Recently he took half the outlets apart in his house without shutting off the power. After I saw him get shocked and he jumped two feet in the air, I decided I either had to put 911 on speed dial or leave so I didn't have to witness anything I didn't want to see. I do have sense enough to disconnect the power, though.
So... I took my steam cleaner apart.
Only problem was, I couldn't get it back together again.
Actually, I did get it back together, it just wouldn't suck any water up.
What did I do? I cried. Yes, I CRIED! Over a stupid steam cleaner. I have the worst luck with appliances. Could have something to do with the fact that I try to fix them myself, and did not inherit my dad's ability to fix things, only take them apart. Sometimes I annoy myself. So I cried.
Then I went shopping with my mother in law. That's what happens when she captures me during a weak moment.
The husband felt sorry for me. Clearly, this was serious, or I never would have agreed to take my mother in law anyway. He spent the last hour taking my steam cleaner apart and putting it together the right way. My dad uses duct tape. My husband uses super glue. It's a little more permanent, but ... it works, so I can't complain. I wouldn't have had this problem to begin with if I had just waited for him to come home and fix it for me in the first place. But then, I wouldn't have had any tears of frustration to show him and he might not have felt quite so sorry for me. And I might not have accepted the invitation to go to town, and I wouldn't have bought that cute new star to hang up in the kitchen.
I dinna mean to do it... honest.
Showing posts with label never a dull moment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label never a dull moment. Show all posts
Friday, August 29, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
I just about kilt that cat today...
So there I was, lazily dreaming the morning away, when I heard a THUD! I was hoping it was just the husband leaving for his Saturday round of early morning golf, but I heard no talking, no giggling, and certainly no swearing, so I knew it couldn't be him and the boy. Besides, it was five minutes past his tee time.
Wait... *snarl grumble growl* I know what it is!!! And $#@* that @#*$&%@#$*$ cat!!!!
I jumped out of bed and ran into the kitchen to find a mess of mass proportions. Okay, not mass proportions, but that definitely sounds better than just a mess. Because it was a MESS!
I have to go back a few days to explain it.
The other day, we were headed off to bed, telling the fish and the fry nighty night sleep tight when holy batman! There's more fry! Those fish just don't give up.
Again, like the last time, we decided to wait until morning to see if any of them lived, and sure enough, the next morning, there was still a whole little school of fry swimming around the tank. We are not totally heartless people, so the husband and I discussed it and decided it was time for some rearranging in an effort to preserve the lives of our new little offspring.
This was a big project. Huge.
You may recall that we have two fish tanks. We started out with a nice small 10 gallon tank and decided to upgrade to the larger one. We kept the ten gallon tank on the counter in the kitchen because I like things to be in my way as much as possible, and when we were done cycling the new tank and ready to add new fish, we took the goldfish, because we're not heartless people, and stuck it in the 10 gallon tank on the kitchen counter, hoping it would just die on it's own. So, we have a tank, but it's got a 3" goldfish in it that is determined to live forever and no way am I putting my fry in with it.
Ishee suggested that we flush it down the toilet. She wanted to see if it would ever swim back up. Do I look heartless? I'm not going to flush an innocent creature down the toidy just to see if it can swim. I had to think on it.
Meanwhile... the huge part of all this rearranging... our big tank had been in the back corner of the living room and the husband whined about it being there almost daily. It's just too hard to admire his babies from that viewpoint. But where else can we put it in our crowded living room? That's when I had a lightbulb moment and decided it was time for some major rearranging of the huge variety.
The big beautiful solid poplar and glass curio cabinet my husband built... is now on a different wall, and in it's place, the first thing you now see when you enter my home is... a 28 gallon fish tank. Any idea how much a huge solid wood and glass curio cabinet weighs? Not much less than a 28 gallon fish tank half full of water, that is for sure!
We then proceeded to catch 10, yes 10 little black and silver fry (mollies) and add them to the four we already caught... we now have a total of 14 fry (in case you can't add) in the ten gallon tank on the counter in the kitchen. Baby fish are not as cute as say a baby kitten, but let me assure you, adult fish are way cuter than adult cats, though they listen about the same!
Oh, and what'd we do with that goldfish? Well, again, this was up for much debate at our house. Ishee still wanted to flush it. The husband thought I should put him in a cake pan of water and let the cat have at it. The boy is not a massochist and he had no desire to off it's little hide, even suggesting that we buy yet another tank for his bedroom for him to keep the precious little goldfish until it's demise, and the middle child could have cared less since that is what she does best. Since I was in charge of this rearranging party, I took an old flower vase and filled it with water and poured him in and set him back on the counter next to his former home. He's not got much room to swim around, but that's okay, I think we'll take him back to the pet store anyway. If he lives that long. I just don't have it in me to flush him.
Now we can continue on with the story of how I just about kilt the cat this morning.
So I rushed into the kitchen after hearing a thud... which was brave of me since I sleep in my undies in the summer time and all the windows were open and the father in law is out irrigating this morning... yeah yeah yeah... but I was in a hurry. Afterall, I had a fish to save!
There on my kitchen counter was the fat beast sitting in a puddle of water that she should have been afraid of, watching a fish squirm and squiggle. The cat proceeds to give me a look of "Look what I did! Look what I did! Aren't you so proud of me? I caught a fish!" Her reward was getting chucked off the counter and nearly chucked out the door.
Have no worries, I rescued the fish. I'm not sure why, but I rescued that darn fish. There for a split second, when I was awakened from dreamland, and I knew just what had happened, that I ought to just let nature take it's course and let the cat have at that fish while I continue on into dreamland. I'm glad I didn't. Also in the middle of that puddle of water was... momentos from the past few months I hadn't yet put away such as my nieces wedding announcement, my other nieces high school graduation announcement, Ishee's coupon to Wingers she's been dying to use, the boys final 8th grade report card, and... my new camera!
Yep, it was a good thing I came in here and rescued that fish.
Two of our fish are pregnant... again... and I'm sure we'll have more fry to add to the tank. I haven't a clue why we're doing this... we don't NEED them, that is for sure! There's just something about taking a living creature and raising it, just to prove that you can, I guess.
As for the cat... she's hiding for she now knows just how unimpressive I found her fishing abilities. Hopefully from now on she'll stick to sitting on her perch watching them from the outside like the rest of us do. Who am I kidding? It's a CAT! She listens just about as well as those fish, which is NOT AT ALL!
Wait... *snarl grumble growl* I know what it is!!! And $#@* that @#*$&%@#$*$ cat!!!!
I jumped out of bed and ran into the kitchen to find a mess of mass proportions. Okay, not mass proportions, but that definitely sounds better than just a mess. Because it was a MESS!
I have to go back a few days to explain it.
The other day, we were headed off to bed, telling the fish and the fry nighty night sleep tight when holy batman! There's more fry! Those fish just don't give up.
Again, like the last time, we decided to wait until morning to see if any of them lived, and sure enough, the next morning, there was still a whole little school of fry swimming around the tank. We are not totally heartless people, so the husband and I discussed it and decided it was time for some rearranging in an effort to preserve the lives of our new little offspring.
This was a big project. Huge.
You may recall that we have two fish tanks. We started out with a nice small 10 gallon tank and decided to upgrade to the larger one. We kept the ten gallon tank on the counter in the kitchen because I like things to be in my way as much as possible, and when we were done cycling the new tank and ready to add new fish, we took the goldfish, because we're not heartless people, and stuck it in the 10 gallon tank on the kitchen counter, hoping it would just die on it's own. So, we have a tank, but it's got a 3" goldfish in it that is determined to live forever and no way am I putting my fry in with it.
Ishee suggested that we flush it down the toilet. She wanted to see if it would ever swim back up. Do I look heartless? I'm not going to flush an innocent creature down the toidy just to see if it can swim. I had to think on it.
Meanwhile... the huge part of all this rearranging... our big tank had been in the back corner of the living room and the husband whined about it being there almost daily. It's just too hard to admire his babies from that viewpoint. But where else can we put it in our crowded living room? That's when I had a lightbulb moment and decided it was time for some major rearranging of the huge variety.
The big beautiful solid poplar and glass curio cabinet my husband built... is now on a different wall, and in it's place, the first thing you now see when you enter my home is... a 28 gallon fish tank. Any idea how much a huge solid wood and glass curio cabinet weighs? Not much less than a 28 gallon fish tank half full of water, that is for sure!
We then proceeded to catch 10, yes 10 little black and silver fry (mollies) and add them to the four we already caught... we now have a total of 14 fry (in case you can't add) in the ten gallon tank on the counter in the kitchen. Baby fish are not as cute as say a baby kitten, but let me assure you, adult fish are way cuter than adult cats, though they listen about the same!
Oh, and what'd we do with that goldfish? Well, again, this was up for much debate at our house. Ishee still wanted to flush it. The husband thought I should put him in a cake pan of water and let the cat have at it. The boy is not a massochist and he had no desire to off it's little hide, even suggesting that we buy yet another tank for his bedroom for him to keep the precious little goldfish until it's demise, and the middle child could have cared less since that is what she does best. Since I was in charge of this rearranging party, I took an old flower vase and filled it with water and poured him in and set him back on the counter next to his former home. He's not got much room to swim around, but that's okay, I think we'll take him back to the pet store anyway. If he lives that long. I just don't have it in me to flush him.
Now we can continue on with the story of how I just about kilt the cat this morning.
So I rushed into the kitchen after hearing a thud... which was brave of me since I sleep in my undies in the summer time and all the windows were open and the father in law is out irrigating this morning... yeah yeah yeah... but I was in a hurry. Afterall, I had a fish to save!
There on my kitchen counter was the fat beast sitting in a puddle of water that she should have been afraid of, watching a fish squirm and squiggle. The cat proceeds to give me a look of "Look what I did! Look what I did! Aren't you so proud of me? I caught a fish!" Her reward was getting chucked off the counter and nearly chucked out the door.
Have no worries, I rescued the fish. I'm not sure why, but I rescued that darn fish. There for a split second, when I was awakened from dreamland, and I knew just what had happened, that I ought to just let nature take it's course and let the cat have at that fish while I continue on into dreamland. I'm glad I didn't. Also in the middle of that puddle of water was... momentos from the past few months I hadn't yet put away such as my nieces wedding announcement, my other nieces high school graduation announcement, Ishee's coupon to Wingers she's been dying to use, the boys final 8th grade report card, and... my new camera!
Yep, it was a good thing I came in here and rescued that fish.
Two of our fish are pregnant... again... and I'm sure we'll have more fry to add to the tank. I haven't a clue why we're doing this... we don't NEED them, that is for sure! There's just something about taking a living creature and raising it, just to prove that you can, I guess.
As for the cat... she's hiding for she now knows just how unimpressive I found her fishing abilities. Hopefully from now on she'll stick to sitting on her perch watching them from the outside like the rest of us do. Who am I kidding? It's a CAT! She listens just about as well as those fish, which is NOT AT ALL!
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Death by remote control airplane...
The other night, the husband took his little remote control airplane out to fly it. Instead of going out to the back pasture, he went to the front yard, which was stupid all the way around because it's had a problem with the engine cutting out, dumping the plane right there. He thought he had fixed it, though.
So as I sat in the house watching "So you think you can dance", here came the husband with a solemn look of sheer stupidity on his face.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm stupid." he said.
>shock< "Really? Why now?" "The engine cut out. My plane is in a tree." After rolling fits of laughter, I asked which one. Not just in one of the six pine trees, but at the very TOP of one of the six pine trees... Nice aim. We paused SYTYCD (I love DVR) and I went out to inspect the damage. Perhaps he was joking? He wasn't. So how does one get a styrofoam airplane out of the top of a 40-45 foot tall pine tree?
Well, first you tie a rope on a wrench and throw it up there, and when that doesn't work, then you tie a hammer to the rope. When that doesn't work, you get a bigger hammer and some bright pink nylon string. When it's good and stuck and the string breaks... you scratch your head for a couple of hours and finally decide to try that first idea of climbing the tree. It's either that or train the squirrels to fly an airplane.
So the father in law (who was helping us with this whole project because he likes to be in the middle of everything) goes and gets the ladder while the husband goes in and puts on 42 layers of clothes to avoid being eaten alive by this big gangly pine tree. They stand up the 20 foot tall ladder, the husband climbs it and once getting to the top, realizes that there is no possible way he can get through those branches and back down in one piece. To heck with it, leave the plane there. So he climbs down.
"Oh, for $%@*& sake, I'll climb the $&*# tree myself!" yells the father in law, and up he goes.
Meanwhile, the mother in law comes back from her bike ride with news that she's informed the whole neighborhood of our plight and the brother in law is coming with over with a 20 foot saw. Rather, it's a small saw on a 20 foot long pole. I guarantee, if you ever need something unusual, he is the go to guy as he's probably got two of them.
So... we hand the 20 foot saw up to the father in law who has climbed a good six feet above the ladder standing on itty bitty pine tree branches. The dust is thick, the branches are thin, he's coughing and wheezing from the dust up there and can hardly move (which is a good thing, since we didn't want him to fall out).
Then there is the mother in law, who is standing on the ground screaming, "GET DOWN! GET DOWN NOW! I SAID GET DOWN. YOU ARE GOING TO FALL! OH! OH!" while the father in law is up there yelling "When I was five years old, my dad made me climb to the top of a 68 foot poplar tree with a handsaw and cut the top off, instead, I built a tree house up there and never came down for the next 14 years." You know how old people are with their tales of "when I was a kid we walked 48 miles to school uphill both ways in 18 foot snowdrifts 365 days a year."
He won. He knocked the plane out. He returned to the ground in one piece. Covered in pine tree sap.
Just be careful walking under this pine tree... there's still a hammer up there that could fall at any moment.
So as I sat in the house watching "So you think you can dance", here came the husband with a solemn look of sheer stupidity on his face.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm stupid." he said.
>shock< "Really? Why now?" "The engine cut out. My plane is in a tree." After rolling fits of laughter, I asked which one. Not just in one of the six pine trees, but at the very TOP of one of the six pine trees... Nice aim. We paused SYTYCD (I love DVR) and I went out to inspect the damage. Perhaps he was joking? He wasn't. So how does one get a styrofoam airplane out of the top of a 40-45 foot tall pine tree?
Well, first you tie a rope on a wrench and throw it up there, and when that doesn't work, then you tie a hammer to the rope. When that doesn't work, you get a bigger hammer and some bright pink nylon string. When it's good and stuck and the string breaks... you scratch your head for a couple of hours and finally decide to try that first idea of climbing the tree. It's either that or train the squirrels to fly an airplane.
So the father in law (who was helping us with this whole project because he likes to be in the middle of everything) goes and gets the ladder while the husband goes in and puts on 42 layers of clothes to avoid being eaten alive by this big gangly pine tree. They stand up the 20 foot tall ladder, the husband climbs it and once getting to the top, realizes that there is no possible way he can get through those branches and back down in one piece. To heck with it, leave the plane there. So he climbs down."Oh, for $%@*& sake, I'll climb the $&*# tree myself!" yells the father in law, and up he goes.
Meanwhile, the mother in law comes back from her bike ride with news that she's informed the whole neighborhood of our plight and the brother in law is coming with over with a 20 foot saw. Rather, it's a small saw on a 20 foot long pole. I guarantee, if you ever need something unusual, he is the go to guy as he's probably got two of them.
So... we hand the 20 foot saw up to the father in law who has climbed a good six feet above the ladder standing on itty bitty pine tree branches. The dust is thick, the branches are thin, he's coughing and wheezing from the dust up there and can hardly move (which is a good thing, since we didn't want him to fall out).
Then there is the mother in law, who is standing on the ground screaming, "GET DOWN! GET DOWN NOW! I SAID GET DOWN. YOU ARE GOING TO FALL! OH! OH!" while the father in law is up there yelling "When I was five years old, my dad made me climb to the top of a 68 foot poplar tree with a handsaw and cut the top off, instead, I built a tree house up there and never came down for the next 14 years." You know how old people are with their tales of "when I was a kid we walked 48 miles to school uphill both ways in 18 foot snowdrifts 365 days a year."
He won. He knocked the plane out. He returned to the ground in one piece. Covered in pine tree sap.
Just be careful walking under this pine tree... there's still a hammer up there that could fall at any moment.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Good times... good times...
We gave the backyard pool a break today and ventured 40 minutes to the northwest to one of the few "real" swimming pools in this remote area I call home. Good times are always to be had when I leave home... especially when I take my inlaws with me, or rather, when they follow me since I didn't take them with me. I made them drive their own car, and I didn't even wait for them, because I'm not that nice. Actually, I had to stop and get gas and while my mother in law said they'd be glad to stop and wait for me, I reminded them that they do know the way as do I, so I didn't need anybody to hold my hand. I left approximately two minutes ahead of them and arrived about 30 seconds behind them... after waiting for a semi to turn left, and hitting three different gas stations just to find one with gas and an open spot. I'm such a rebel. With a led foot.
Anywhoozle...
I didn't drown. Not even when I jumped off the diving board. I don't do that often because I have to take off my glasses, and my eyesight is so bad, I can barely see the edge of the pool and I certainly can't see my kids. It makes me nervous. Therefore, I prefer to watch three water dogs jump repeatedly off the diving board (the youngest with a life jacket) while lazily clinging to a couple of noodles.
We had swimming races. The middle child kicked our butts repeatedly. Ishee tried so hard to swim across the pool but gave up half way. I was just beyond seriously impressed she made it that far! As for the middle child... she totally rocks!
My sister in law jumped off the diving board twice... the first time forgetting the sunglasses she'd left on her head (it's an indoor pool anyway), and nearly lost them!
My mother in law jumped off the diving board just once. The boy had to swim out and save her with a noodle. She also lost the claim tag to her clothes during the same scary dive. The middle child found it under the diving board and tried with all her might to swim to the bottom and fetch it, but just couldn't do it. I assured the MIL that it surely wasn't the first time in the pools 50 or so years of life that they'd lost a claim tag to the bottom of the pool and it surely wouldn't be the last. I couldn't imagine they'd hold her clothes hostage because of it. Besides, that's what she gets for putting it on her wrist instead of her ankle like normal folks.
The four year old niece, despite being the child who normally won't get OUT of the water, even if it's a puddle, announced she was not getting IN the water for nothing. It took about 15 minutes of begging and pleading just to get her clothes off her! We finally succeeded... and it was totally worth the wait after hearing her laugh her head off when she saw grandma jump off the diving board. Afterall, it was a spectacular jump and I hope I never have to witness another one again.
I also hope I never have to witness another teenage boy lose his swim trunks... not totally, just showing me way more than an innocent bystander should EVER see! Whoops. Luckily, he was turned the other direction and the kids didn't have to witness the debacle as it took him several moments before he noticed something had gone awry (I don't even want to know what was visible from the other side). Some things, you just don't want to see. I don't do crack. Period!
My final thoughts on these good times is...
**Diet Dr. Pepper just doesn't taste the same out of a can as it does a bottle. It's borderline undrinkable.
**Hot house tomatoes grown in what is probably old swimming pool water are the BEST!
**Double check with the kids to see if they have all their stuff... you might just get home and discover they left your favorite beach towel there.
Anywhoozle...
I didn't drown. Not even when I jumped off the diving board. I don't do that often because I have to take off my glasses, and my eyesight is so bad, I can barely see the edge of the pool and I certainly can't see my kids. It makes me nervous. Therefore, I prefer to watch three water dogs jump repeatedly off the diving board (the youngest with a life jacket) while lazily clinging to a couple of noodles.
We had swimming races. The middle child kicked our butts repeatedly. Ishee tried so hard to swim across the pool but gave up half way. I was just beyond seriously impressed she made it that far! As for the middle child... she totally rocks!
My sister in law jumped off the diving board twice... the first time forgetting the sunglasses she'd left on her head (it's an indoor pool anyway), and nearly lost them!
My mother in law jumped off the diving board just once. The boy had to swim out and save her with a noodle. She also lost the claim tag to her clothes during the same scary dive. The middle child found it under the diving board and tried with all her might to swim to the bottom and fetch it, but just couldn't do it. I assured the MIL that it surely wasn't the first time in the pools 50 or so years of life that they'd lost a claim tag to the bottom of the pool and it surely wouldn't be the last. I couldn't imagine they'd hold her clothes hostage because of it. Besides, that's what she gets for putting it on her wrist instead of her ankle like normal folks.
The four year old niece, despite being the child who normally won't get OUT of the water, even if it's a puddle, announced she was not getting IN the water for nothing. It took about 15 minutes of begging and pleading just to get her clothes off her! We finally succeeded... and it was totally worth the wait after hearing her laugh her head off when she saw grandma jump off the diving board. Afterall, it was a spectacular jump and I hope I never have to witness another one again.
I also hope I never have to witness another teenage boy lose his swim trunks... not totally, just showing me way more than an innocent bystander should EVER see! Whoops. Luckily, he was turned the other direction and the kids didn't have to witness the debacle as it took him several moments before he noticed something had gone awry (I don't even want to know what was visible from the other side). Some things, you just don't want to see. I don't do crack. Period!
My final thoughts on these good times is...
**Diet Dr. Pepper just doesn't taste the same out of a can as it does a bottle. It's borderline undrinkable.
**Hot house tomatoes grown in what is probably old swimming pool water are the BEST!
**Double check with the kids to see if they have all their stuff... you might just get home and discover they left your favorite beach towel there.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Meeting cousins on country roads...
Leads to no good....
Expensive new hobbies...
And lots of photographic moments...
Come with me as we have our first flying adventure...
They take flight... the curious beasts in the background watch on....
Ah... a nice, safe landing... sort of... landing is much harder than it looks... much damage occurs during landings... wierd...
Seriously Three ... that little flying thing is fascinating ... almost as fascinating as those little humans wandering around ... can we go play? Please? Pretty please?
Oops... this landing, not so good... broke the propeller right in half ... MEDIC!
Here I am ... what's the emergency? 
Good thing it came with a spare....
Off we go, into the wild blue yonder...
This airplane is far more interesting... it leaves trails...
Oh wait, how about some video of yet another beautiful landing... perhaps the best of the night...
Expensive new hobbies...
And lots of photographic moments...
Come with me as we have our first flying adventure...
Turns out, the front yard is not the best place to fly a plane... too many trees and power lines. Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of a model airplane in the sky?
Let's walk out back to more wide open spaces... and big, annoying, curious, pesky critters....
"What the crap? This is my playground." said the blue mare with no name that I know of.
"Oh boy! Oh boy! Someone to play with! Oh boy!" said Three.
"Uh, anybody know if we're allowed to play with them?" questioned Joker.
They take flight... the curious beasts in the background watch on....
Ah... a nice, safe landing... sort of... landing is much harder than it looks... much damage occurs during landings... wierd...
Seriously Three ... that little flying thing is fascinating ... almost as fascinating as those little humans wandering around ... can we go play? Please? Pretty please?
Oops... this landing, not so good... broke the propeller right in half ... MEDIC! 
Here I am ... what's the emergency? 
Good thing it came with a spare....
Off we go, into the wild blue yonder...
This airplane is far more interesting... it leaves trails...
Oh wait, how about some video of yet another beautiful landing... perhaps the best of the night... EXCELLENT!!!
So... husband... how does one get a plane out of the top of one of the tallest tree's on the whole 20 acres? You think on it while I wander over here and find more interesting things to photograph... La dee dah dee dah... 
Can I play? 
Sadly, I was so enthralled watching my dearest husband hoist a 20 foot ladder in the air with my broom duct taped to the end as he swatted the tree repeatedly until the plane fell out and yelling "watch out" to the boy standing a little too close by as the ladder almost crashed to the ground nearly giving the husband a heart attack as he imagined squashing his first born with said ladder while trying to save his new toy he stupidly flew into a tree, all while keeping this giant annoying pesky critter also known as Joker who was trying to crawl into my back pocket away from me because I'm not too fond of big pesky critters, especially this one ... I forgot to take a picture of the rescue mission. I'm such a disappointment, I know. 
They attempted one last flight... this time away from the trees... they learned their lesson on that one real quick. It was getting too dark to see the plane anymore, anyhow.
The final crash was fatal. Turns out airplanes can't fly without tail wings. It's not toast... just needs a small surgical proceedure and loads and loads of super glue.
Until next time... live long and prosper... don't take any wooden nickels... and if you see cousin Cory on the side of a country road changing water, just keep on driving lest you be introduced to new hobbies.
Friday, June 06, 2008
I leave home for a couple of hours, and look what happens...
Yesterday, my sisters took pity on my dire chaotic situation around here and took me out to lunch. Okay, so it wasn't really for MY benefit, but it sure felt like it. Needless to say, I went out to lunch with my sisters and I left my children home alone.
No big deal.
However...
While I was away, the middle child glanced out the window and spied a police car and an ambulance in front of my inlaws house. They couldn't fathom what would be wrong, they were pretty sure however, that it involved the inlaws since they were at their house, and they freaked out a little.
They called their dad and said "dad, there's an ambulance at grandma's house."
Of course, he freaks out.
Luckily, he was only a mile from home so he kicked it up a notch and rushed home.
Turns out... a teenager was gawking off, lost control of his bronco and flipped it... narrowly missing a fench, mailbox, and telephone pole. He is the reason I am dreading my son getting his drivers permit in a few months!
My husband, however, being a thoughtful guy and all... instead of finding out who it was, what happened, if he was okay or anything else... grabbed the camera because he was just sure I'd do the same thing if I were home so I could blog about it. Isn't he sweet?
No big deal.
However...
While I was away, the middle child glanced out the window and spied a police car and an ambulance in front of my inlaws house. They couldn't fathom what would be wrong, they were pretty sure however, that it involved the inlaws since they were at their house, and they freaked out a little.
They called their dad and said "dad, there's an ambulance at grandma's house."
Of course, he freaks out.
Luckily, he was only a mile from home so he kicked it up a notch and rushed home.
Turns out... a teenager was gawking off, lost control of his bronco and flipped it... narrowly missing a fench, mailbox, and telephone pole. He is the reason I am dreading my son getting his drivers permit in a few months!
My husband, however, being a thoughtful guy and all... instead of finding out who it was, what happened, if he was okay or anything else... grabbed the camera because he was just sure I'd do the same thing if I were home so I could blog about it. Isn't he sweet?
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Never a dull moment...
Living out in the sticks with three busy children means they spend a lot of time entertaining themselves. I tend to get yappy sometimes, especially lately, so I will spare you all the details of this sordid story. Lets just say it begins with Ishee wanting to use my aquarium net as a butterfly catcher, a completely broken cell phone, a stop at the local five and dime after attempting a phone repair, spying a $1.99 butterfly net on display, and a question from the proprieter as to what exactly we plan to catch with said butterfly net....
Well, Mr. Abbott... if you only knew...
So we brought the butterfly nets home and Ishee used her's to pack around her Webkinz bunny on her back like a hobo, but the middle child was determined to catch more than just butterflies, because that's just how she is... butterfly's are boring, lets find something KEWL!
So, she and the boy (who didn't get his own net but should have) went out to grandpa's horse barn where the pigeons have taken up roost and went to catching... and they indeed "caught"...
The boy came running to the house, "hurry hurry mom, bring your camera, we caught a bird in the butterfly net!" So of coarse, I never miss a photo opportunity and I ran out to see the said bird that they caught. At first we thought it was some sort of chicken... partly because I couldn't see it very well, and partly because it was red and brown. Pigeons around here are ugly and grey, not brown, so it surely couldn't be a pigeon.
Ishee was convinced it was a duck and perhaps we should build it a cage so we can love him and hug him and pet him and call him George.
Well, Mr. Abbott... if you only knew...
So we brought the butterfly nets home and Ishee used her's to pack around her Webkinz bunny on her back like a hobo, but the middle child was determined to catch more than just butterflies, because that's just how she is... butterfly's are boring, lets find something KEWL!
So, she and the boy (who didn't get his own net but should have) went out to grandpa's horse barn where the pigeons have taken up roost and went to catching... and they indeed "caught"...The boy came running to the house, "hurry hurry mom, bring your camera, we caught a bird in the butterfly net!" So of coarse, I never miss a photo opportunity and I ran out to see the said bird that they caught. At first we thought it was some sort of chicken... partly because I couldn't see it very well, and partly because it was red and brown. Pigeons around here are ugly and grey, not brown, so it surely couldn't be a pigeon.
Ishee was convinced it was a duck and perhaps we should build it a cage so we can love him and hug him and pet him and call him George.
I wasn't touching it. Birds carry all sorts of diseases you know... I learned from Dr. House that pigeon poop has like over 100 infectious diseases in it or something like that. Therefore, go ahead and touch that nasty bird kids, just don't make me do it...
The kids also rustled up their dad to come see the hostage, and luckily, he's not afraid of no bird... 
Sure enough, that there's a brownish reddish pigeon. 
We have a serious problem with pigeons around our house... they are everywhere and they poop on anything and everything. My father in law said the only good pigeon is a dead pigeon. But, Ishee was still convinced that said pigeon was a duck and therefore must live! The husband didn't have the heart to wring it's neck anyway, especially not in front of the children. He's such a good man. 
So... off it went... into the wild blue yonder. 
Now I could finish up this story with adventures of Ishee promising to lend her net to her brother so he could help catch another pigeon, then renigging on the offer, which then caused the middle child to scream relentlessly for a good 20 minutes about Ishee and her secret power to control the world and singlehandedly ruin her life, but I'll spare you the details...
Good times... good times...
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