I do. It is my favorite holiday for many reasons. The first of which, it is a holiday purely about food, so if you're a halfway decent cook, you get 15 min. or so of glory before everyone passes out. But then you get it again when they make turkey sandwiches. Secondly, us being a blended family and all...this was the only holiday that was purely all ours as a family. The rest of the time, others had to be here there and everywhere to satisfy family duties and court orders and all that hoo-ha that is thankfully no longer part of our daily stress.
On the menu this year was turkey, smoked to perfection on the grill..and ham with a peach glaze on it. Then there were the fruit salads. Watergate, Waldorf, and an orange salad with pineapple and cherries in it. Then there was sweet potatoe souffle which there is none left of. That particular dish was scraped clean. Homemade green bean casserole (the key is the cream of mushroom soup here) and a squash casserole. I completely forgot the mashed potatoes I was going to make. I mean, did not remember until I had been up for an hour or so today, even. I mean forgot.
So, here we are..stuffed to bursting...so what do you do when you eat til you burst? Get on the scale, of course. My scale sucks, honestly. I know it doesn't weigh right. It would appear to be off by 20 pounds or so, even, but seriously, what a bunch of idiots we are..standing around weighing ourselves bemoaning that we are fat after having eaten like that. Ha! You gotta wait to weigh yourself until after the morning constitutional today.
I weighed the same as I did before I ate, personally, but it's good to know that there was a consensus that my scale truly sucks.
The little dude came to visit us again ...he brought his parents, too..haha! He calls me ...Cowdi. It's the funniest thing. I love having little ones around at the holidays.
Here's the best part of all...they all pitched in and got the kitchen cleaned. I skipped pie, but I was informed that it was good. I made my own crusts this year. It's been a while, and now that I've done it ...it's going to be a long time before I'm gonna be able to use store bought pie crust.
We followed it up with some desert drinks. Hot buttered rum and a cool coffee drink we invented the other night. This hot buttered rum recipe is yummy as heck. And instead of alcohol, you can add root beer and have butter beer. Hell yeah!
I had some kid bubbly...welch's grape juice for the young ones.
It was a good Thanksgiving and I hope that each and every one of you had a very blessed Thanksgiving as well.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Whoa!
So, we were hanging in the garage the other day. The senior chief has been bitching about having to "move into his garage."..as he puts it. Hell, I don't know what he's bitching about, I'm just damn grateful to not be stuck in the restroom anymore. Does that mean I should change the name of my blog??? Nah...
Anyway, getting sidetracked here..hehe...so the reason we hang in the garage so much is because that's where the beer fridge is and that is where the smoking lamp is lit. The other day, he caved to the inevitable and went and got a heater. Yeah, it was kick ass looking too...hence the picture on the top. Why I put the picture there will reveal itself momentarily.
So, it's getting all toasty in there and the senior chief runs the eldest back to his abode and I was talking on the phone.
When the senior chief comes back, that sucker kicks it up into high flame and started shooting flames out of one of the elements there. Oh hell no. We are glad we were standing there when it happened otherwise the days in the garage might have just been gone forever. Ding dang. So, don't buy one of those.
After all this occured, he boxed that sucker up and took it right on back and got a different heater that is much safer.
We tested that sucker out until 1am Sunday morning. It made the garage TOASTY. We wound up hanging with Jake all evening. He got off work at 9pm and we got to chit chatting, drinking a couple of beers and next thing I know we're all in the kitchen cooking up some food, doing the one legged Capt. Morgan's pose in the kitchen while making food and drink. We ran out of beer and switched to Capt. Morgan. It goes good in tea and coffee. I was hung down and brung down yesterday, let me tell ya. I did manage to brush my hair, but I surely did not go anywhere. It was dinner and a movie night last night.
At some point, I said...THIS, now, this is the golden moment. That one moment in time where everything makes sense? Yeah, buddy! Getting old is just fine after all.
Then, we took a little nap and got up and made some more food, got the kids off to school, drank gallons of coffee, and went about our jobs so that we may continue to feed and shelter ourselves. Life's just damn fine!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Anthems
I've gone from the ugly duckling to the swan in my particular life and this one particular video expresses what I would like to say to the doubters. I don't mean to be conceited, I don't...
Love
Another video to start the post off with, so you can read and listen at the same time. I like music, personally, and a lot of it. Just loaded my mp3 player with 845 songs.
Anyway, back to love..the name of the post. When I was younger, much younger, I heard this religious message that stated love isn't an emotion, love is a decision.
While I'm not into organized religion, I'm not above thinking along spiritual planes every now and then. At the time, my reaction was ..WTF??? What an idiot. What does he mean love isn't an emotion? How crazy is that?
Well, now that I am older, I realize that statement was completely right. See, all we are is a bunch of animals. We are hardwired to procreate. Period. So, it goes to reason that all of your life, you are going to be attracted to people.
That's not love. If it was, there would be no porn. Love comes when you decide to make a hearth and home with someone whom not only are you attracted to, but you enjoy talking to on a daily basis, etc.
Love=loyalty in my humble opinion. There's not too terribly many people on this earth who have a hard time with the procreation aspect of it, it's all that confusing stuff...
Love can only grow in a safe environment, where both parties are free to be themselves, free of judgement. That's what we are seeking when we seek love. To have that one person...me and you against the world baby.
There comes a point in every relationship where two individuals find themselves at a crossroads. Which path to take...love is making the decision to take whatever path..together.
Being married is a lot of hard work, I'm here to testify. But it's worth it in the end. And who better to be an animal with, then someone who loves your animal side?
Anyway, back to love..the name of the post. When I was younger, much younger, I heard this religious message that stated love isn't an emotion, love is a decision.
While I'm not into organized religion, I'm not above thinking along spiritual planes every now and then. At the time, my reaction was ..WTF??? What an idiot. What does he mean love isn't an emotion? How crazy is that?
Well, now that I am older, I realize that statement was completely right. See, all we are is a bunch of animals. We are hardwired to procreate. Period. So, it goes to reason that all of your life, you are going to be attracted to people.
That's not love. If it was, there would be no porn. Love comes when you decide to make a hearth and home with someone whom not only are you attracted to, but you enjoy talking to on a daily basis, etc.
Love=loyalty in my humble opinion. There's not too terribly many people on this earth who have a hard time with the procreation aspect of it, it's all that confusing stuff...
Love can only grow in a safe environment, where both parties are free to be themselves, free of judgement. That's what we are seeking when we seek love. To have that one person...me and you against the world baby.
There comes a point in every relationship where two individuals find themselves at a crossroads. Which path to take...love is making the decision to take whatever path..together.
Being married is a lot of hard work, I'm here to testify. But it's worth it in the end. And who better to be an animal with, then someone who loves your animal side?
Sunday Thoughts
Here's a couple of songs for you for Sunday Morning.
The senior chief and I were having a discussion about why, oh why is there a next contestant every where I go. Hell, even at the grocery store, for crying out loud. All ages, shapes forms..even girls, lately. I don't get it. I didn't even have my first real date until I was 18 years old. Boys just didn't like me at all. Then something happened after I joined the Navy, and boy howdy....there's a reason I'm a recluse.
You know what I see when I look in the mirror? I see my double chins..I see the 35 extra pounds I'm carrying...I see wrinkles and nothing very beautiful. I don't look in the mirror very often because I'm afraid I'm going to break it. Seriously. I don't get what the big damn deal is, really.
Anyway, here's the first song, then I'll tell ya the conclusion me and the senior chief came to.
And believe me people, I dress down..way down..one could call me a slob in my dress, even. But, after discussing it...we came to the conclusion that there is only one real reason and the following song...describes it.
There's just something that people love about a momma. I don't understand it, exactly, but it's not something I can change about my personality. So, I have no clue what the real solution is. It's so disheartening to think that any time I go out, there's someone out there trying to cop a feel.
It's happened at Sam's...this one time this old guy tried to cop a feel. Unfreakingbelievable, I thought. I was just trying to help...and that is another thing that always always gets me in trouble. I truly do love most people I meet, and it's overwhelming and brings out a myriad of different responses in people.
I think that's why we just stick to the younger set. They're safer..they think I'm OLD..(grin)and all they want is some food. That's easy, eh?
The senior chief and I were having a discussion about why, oh why is there a next contestant every where I go. Hell, even at the grocery store, for crying out loud. All ages, shapes forms..even girls, lately. I don't get it. I didn't even have my first real date until I was 18 years old. Boys just didn't like me at all. Then something happened after I joined the Navy, and boy howdy....there's a reason I'm a recluse.
You know what I see when I look in the mirror? I see my double chins..I see the 35 extra pounds I'm carrying...I see wrinkles and nothing very beautiful. I don't look in the mirror very often because I'm afraid I'm going to break it. Seriously. I don't get what the big damn deal is, really.
Anyway, here's the first song, then I'll tell ya the conclusion me and the senior chief came to.
And believe me people, I dress down..way down..one could call me a slob in my dress, even. But, after discussing it...we came to the conclusion that there is only one real reason and the following song...describes it.
There's just something that people love about a momma. I don't understand it, exactly, but it's not something I can change about my personality. So, I have no clue what the real solution is. It's so disheartening to think that any time I go out, there's someone out there trying to cop a feel.
It's happened at Sam's...this one time this old guy tried to cop a feel. Unfreakingbelievable, I thought. I was just trying to help...and that is another thing that always always gets me in trouble. I truly do love most people I meet, and it's overwhelming and brings out a myriad of different responses in people.
I think that's why we just stick to the younger set. They're safer..they think I'm OLD..(grin)and all they want is some food. That's easy, eh?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Take Two..Part Two
She wakes up terrified. She had a horrible dream that they had a fight last night.
She reaches for him and finds air. Her terror becomes paralyzing fear as the events of the evening before come rushing back to her consciousness.
The car being repossessed, the angry words, the accusations, the way they just started HURTING each other.
She slumps down on the bed. Sobbing. She's overcome with the pain; believing he's left her.
She pulls herself together a little and washes her face. Next she goes to the kitchen to make some coffee and figure out what to do.
She's feeling numb now. The practical part of her brain is taking over and she starts making a mental list of what is done and what needs to be done. The rent is paid for another month and she should be able to catch a ride to work with a friend.
Groceries? Sigh. She reckons that the ten pounds she's been planning on losing won't be so hard now. Her mind is all over the map, not wanting to accept that he's gone.
She's feeling a little overwhelmed, scared and near tears again. The beginnings of anger is starting to assert itself as well.
Fine, she thinks. If he's going to give up on us so damn easy, then to HELL with him. I don't need him anyway, especially not a no job having ASSHOLE! She feels guilt at this thought because he's ALWAYS had a job until last week.
She's just so tired. They'd been struggling for so very long and finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. As soon as they reached it an avalanche happened and blocked the egress. No going forward and no going back.
It's just not fair, she rails inside. She'd like to throw herself on the floor and have a real two year old style temper tantrum, really.
Then her mind wanders to the cruel things she said to him last thing. The accusations she'd flung at him, how just ..mean.. she was. She's ashamed. She knows she was a bitch.
She really, really wishes he hadn't left. Her body aches for his arms around her the way they always have been. Funny, she can't recall the last time she put her arms around him....more shame.
She starts crying again ...the pain... it just hurts.
She hears the key in the lock and freezes, hoping.
She opens the door and there he stands...hefty bag and cooler on the floor...vase of yellow flowers in his hands.
She bursts into tears, throws herself in his arms...and they say in unison...
"I'm so sorry...I love you."
She reaches for him and finds air. Her terror becomes paralyzing fear as the events of the evening before come rushing back to her consciousness.
The car being repossessed, the angry words, the accusations, the way they just started HURTING each other.
She slumps down on the bed. Sobbing. She's overcome with the pain; believing he's left her.
She pulls herself together a little and washes her face. Next she goes to the kitchen to make some coffee and figure out what to do.
She's feeling numb now. The practical part of her brain is taking over and she starts making a mental list of what is done and what needs to be done. The rent is paid for another month and she should be able to catch a ride to work with a friend.
Groceries? Sigh. She reckons that the ten pounds she's been planning on losing won't be so hard now. Her mind is all over the map, not wanting to accept that he's gone.
She's feeling a little overwhelmed, scared and near tears again. The beginnings of anger is starting to assert itself as well.
Fine, she thinks. If he's going to give up on us so damn easy, then to HELL with him. I don't need him anyway, especially not a no job having ASSHOLE! She feels guilt at this thought because he's ALWAYS had a job until last week.
She's just so tired. They'd been struggling for so very long and finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. As soon as they reached it an avalanche happened and blocked the egress. No going forward and no going back.
It's just not fair, she rails inside. She'd like to throw herself on the floor and have a real two year old style temper tantrum, really.
Then her mind wanders to the cruel things she said to him last thing. The accusations she'd flung at him, how just ..mean.. she was. She's ashamed. She knows she was a bitch.
She really, really wishes he hadn't left. Her body aches for his arms around her the way they always have been. Funny, she can't recall the last time she put her arms around him....more shame.
She starts crying again ...the pain... it just hurts.
She hears the key in the lock and freezes, hoping.
She opens the door and there he stands...hefty bag and cooler on the floor...vase of yellow flowers in his hands.
She bursts into tears, throws herself in his arms...and they say in unison...
"I'm so sorry...I love you."
Take Two
He staggers slightly under his heavy load, giving the appearance of being drunk.
The cop slows slightly as the guy lurches a little, afraid the guy is going to stagger right into oncoming traffic.
A second glance reveals that he's not drunk; he's just carrying a lot of weight that has him off balance.
He has slung over his back..a hefty bag that is rather bulky, carrying it like a Santa sack. In his left hand is an obviously heavy cooler. In his right hand, however, is a vase holding three delicate flowers.
He's had a tough week. He got laid off from the job at the factory last week and the car note was overdue. They came and got the car in the middle of the night. He was only a hundred dollars short, but too little, too late. Besides, they'd only been barely hanging on. Now maybe they can get ahead a little. How, he doesn't know yet. That's her deal, figuring out the how.
Last night, she wasn't up to it though. Why she's stayed with him so long, he doesn't know. What kind of man can't provide for his wife? He thinks it's a little unfair for her to call him a moocher and a dead beat but he can understand. Maybe she's right. She has held two jobs all these years. His one job, though, always provided the benefits, so it still feels a little unfair. He shakes this thought off by shifting the load again and focusing on the next corner.
In the wee hours of the morning, after their fight, he came to a decision. He sneaked out and went to the local Wal-Mart. It's not a terribly long walk, but he wants to get back before she wakes up. He spends the last of his cash on enough groceries for the month, a six-pack of beer, a candle, and the vase of flowers. He knows she was right, she DOES need a day off, she does need a little pampering.
He took all the bags of groceries and loaded them into the hefty bag for the walk home. He put the milk, frozen oj, and the six pack into the cooler and decided to carry the flowers.
To hell with it, he thinks. They are having a romantic dinner tonight. The flowers will cheer her up...he hopes and maybe they can remember how to work together again.
He's a little afraid as he sees the time. She'll be up by now and thinking he's left her. He wishes she could be a little more secure in his love.
He shifts the weight again, stumbling a little, and fixes his sights on the final corner. Almost home, if he still has one.
The cop slows slightly as the guy lurches a little, afraid the guy is going to stagger right into oncoming traffic.
A second glance reveals that he's not drunk; he's just carrying a lot of weight that has him off balance.
He has slung over his back..a hefty bag that is rather bulky, carrying it like a Santa sack. In his left hand is an obviously heavy cooler. In his right hand, however, is a vase holding three delicate flowers.
He's had a tough week. He got laid off from the job at the factory last week and the car note was overdue. They came and got the car in the middle of the night. He was only a hundred dollars short, but too little, too late. Besides, they'd only been barely hanging on. Now maybe they can get ahead a little. How, he doesn't know yet. That's her deal, figuring out the how.
Last night, she wasn't up to it though. Why she's stayed with him so long, he doesn't know. What kind of man can't provide for his wife? He thinks it's a little unfair for her to call him a moocher and a dead beat but he can understand. Maybe she's right. She has held two jobs all these years. His one job, though, always provided the benefits, so it still feels a little unfair. He shakes this thought off by shifting the load again and focusing on the next corner.
In the wee hours of the morning, after their fight, he came to a decision. He sneaked out and went to the local Wal-Mart. It's not a terribly long walk, but he wants to get back before she wakes up. He spends the last of his cash on enough groceries for the month, a six-pack of beer, a candle, and the vase of flowers. He knows she was right, she DOES need a day off, she does need a little pampering.
He took all the bags of groceries and loaded them into the hefty bag for the walk home. He put the milk, frozen oj, and the six pack into the cooler and decided to carry the flowers.
To hell with it, he thinks. They are having a romantic dinner tonight. The flowers will cheer her up...he hopes and maybe they can remember how to work together again.
He's a little afraid as he sees the time. She'll be up by now and thinking he's left her. He wishes she could be a little more secure in his love.
He shifts the weight again, stumbling a little, and fixes his sights on the final corner. Almost home, if he still has one.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
High Compliments
As you may have surmised, a lot of the action around here happens in the garage.
Anyway, the other night, one of the 'kids' stopped by, and as usual, had his little dude in tow. Now, this little dude has been coming around long enough now that he's well, starting to feel comfortable. It just so happened that they showed up on the very last truck race of the season and while I do love me some kids and all, this momma was watching the truck race on the tv she purchased for just such occasion.
So, little dude says, I want to watch a movie. I smiled and said, I know honey, but what you're gonna do is sit down here and play with these toys and watch the TRUCK race, right? Pouty lips..."yes, ma'am"..then the twinkly eyes, can I play with HIM (pointing to boy tween) yep, says I. And the playing commenced.
Back out to the garage I go, where they were all bowing to the master..haha! Hey, kids mind me, they just do. I don't mess around, though. Kid's father, who just recently lost his job blurts out.."I am so sick of being a fucking housewife, I was NOT cut out to be a maid and all that." "I would KILL for some adult conversation.." Blah, blah, blah...then I come through the door and he flings himself on me and says "I don't know how you did it with ALL of us...thank you!" I swear, I am not making this up...and I laughed...
Those guys...are all very protective of the precious little time that me and the senior chief actually get alone. This last year was so bad that they will kick ass..their words, not mine, if we get a chance and someone messes with it again. Funny people, they are. They know they ..wore us out..as they put it.
They also want us to have the energy to be able to deal with the next round of shenanigans. I think I'm going to be glad to be a grandparent someday. It'll be fun watching THEM deal with the shenanigans for a change...as we drive away in our motorhome to the next hot spot.
They are good, though, and those are high compliments indeed.
Anyway, the other night, one of the 'kids' stopped by, and as usual, had his little dude in tow. Now, this little dude has been coming around long enough now that he's well, starting to feel comfortable. It just so happened that they showed up on the very last truck race of the season and while I do love me some kids and all, this momma was watching the truck race on the tv she purchased for just such occasion.
So, little dude says, I want to watch a movie. I smiled and said, I know honey, but what you're gonna do is sit down here and play with these toys and watch the TRUCK race, right? Pouty lips..."yes, ma'am"..then the twinkly eyes, can I play with HIM (pointing to boy tween) yep, says I. And the playing commenced.
Back out to the garage I go, where they were all bowing to the master..haha! Hey, kids mind me, they just do. I don't mess around, though. Kid's father, who just recently lost his job blurts out.."I am so sick of being a fucking housewife, I was NOT cut out to be a maid and all that." "I would KILL for some adult conversation.." Blah, blah, blah...then I come through the door and he flings himself on me and says "I don't know how you did it with ALL of us...thank you!" I swear, I am not making this up...and I laughed...
Those guys...are all very protective of the precious little time that me and the senior chief actually get alone. This last year was so bad that they will kick ass..their words, not mine, if we get a chance and someone messes with it again. Funny people, they are. They know they ..wore us out..as they put it.
They also want us to have the energy to be able to deal with the next round of shenanigans. I think I'm going to be glad to be a grandparent someday. It'll be fun watching THEM deal with the shenanigans for a change...as we drive away in our motorhome to the next hot spot.
They are good, though, and those are high compliments indeed.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Three In A Row
So, Jimmy Johnson won three championships in a row. Very cool, really. The best part of the last race weekend of 2008 was the trucks, by far. That championship race was a last lap deal. It wasn't sealed until the very last lap of the very last race. There was only 7 (seven) points separating the top two trucks. It was AWESOME!
The trucks are by far my favorite. Not too much whining in the truck series, for sure. It's more old school driving...but they've struggled along. They're going to be the ones to watch next year as we watch this economy play out.
They are used to operating on shoe string budgets like the guys that built this sport. The main event...not so much. No testing next year and pennies are getting pinched. None of those young guns has ever had to go hungry before like that, so we'll get to see some better racing. None of this laying back crap because they are going to need every single penny in order to keep those race teams running.
So, life being a big circle and all, next year is going to be interesting.
The trucks are by far my favorite. Not too much whining in the truck series, for sure. It's more old school driving...but they've struggled along. They're going to be the ones to watch next year as we watch this economy play out.
They are used to operating on shoe string budgets like the guys that built this sport. The main event...not so much. No testing next year and pennies are getting pinched. None of those young guns has ever had to go hungry before like that, so we'll get to see some better racing. None of this laying back crap because they are going to need every single penny in order to keep those race teams running.
So, life being a big circle and all, next year is going to be interesting.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Georgy Porgy
Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
Georgy Porgy ran away.
Then one night,
He did it again,
Kissed a girl,
With a grin.
Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
Now the girls have all rose up,
And sincerely want to lynch your butt.
The boys come out to play today and Georgy,
he still runs away.
The girls are gonna get his ass,
And the boys, they all have their backs.
Georgy Porgy, the choice is clear,
Are you man enough to face your fears?
What you fear most is so not true.
People actually LIKE you.
Georgy Porgy, hurt us all.
It's not fair,
Not one damn bit at all.
Georgy Porgy, come out to play,
Because us gals, we need to have our say.
Solidarity is the name of the game
And, without your voice, it wouldn't really be the same.
Georgy Porgy, hear our plea,
All we want is for you to see.
We've seen so many on your path.
We don't want you to invoke our wrath.
Georgy Porgy, hear these words
These girls are girls no more.
Women now, the name of the game,
Georgy Porgy...have you no shame?
To the one that inspired this post...you know who you are and you know I love you.
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
Georgy Porgy ran away.
Then one night,
He did it again,
Kissed a girl,
With a grin.
Georgy Porgy, pudding and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
Now the girls have all rose up,
And sincerely want to lynch your butt.
The boys come out to play today and Georgy,
he still runs away.
The girls are gonna get his ass,
And the boys, they all have their backs.
Georgy Porgy, the choice is clear,
Are you man enough to face your fears?
What you fear most is so not true.
People actually LIKE you.
Georgy Porgy, hurt us all.
It's not fair,
Not one damn bit at all.
Georgy Porgy, come out to play,
Because us gals, we need to have our say.
Solidarity is the name of the game
And, without your voice, it wouldn't really be the same.
Georgy Porgy, hear our plea,
All we want is for you to see.
We've seen so many on your path.
We don't want you to invoke our wrath.
Georgy Porgy, hear these words
These girls are girls no more.
Women now, the name of the game,
Georgy Porgy...have you no shame?
To the one that inspired this post...you know who you are and you know I love you.
Women's Council
Did you know there was such a thing? Yeah, honestly, me either, but now...I know differently. They are starting to speak. My advice...apologies...go a very long way.
Saturdays
This is just a little something something that comes around on the garage playlist. And let me tell you the importance of beer while raising children, ha! The ability to just walk away from any given kid situation and pop a cold one, well, has upon many occasions saved all of their lives.
Take a day in recent history where I not only had one in trouble, but two, and then there is the help received.
Let me paint the picture for you. This was the day the little people grew up from little people to tweens. Ironically, they both lost their EVERloving minds on the same day.
My daughter's deal had been building up all week. She came home telling me she was getting blamed for something she didn't do and the next day there was this whole discussion about how she was exonerated, right? Ha. Her brothers...sucked right the hell in. Hook line and sinker.
So, I was puttering around the house on the day in question thinking about the supper that I was going to cook and decided to slip out to the grocery store to get a couple of ingredients. While I was gone was when the first call came. From the middle school. Well, one of her elder brothers..remember hook line and sinker...yeah. He answered the phone and proceeded to GO OFF on the dadgum assistant principal..proclaiming his sister's innocence and all that. Oh yeah. Shit. Thanks for the help kid, really.
Finally, I get a hold of him and the first piece of information that I asked him to make a note of was my cell phone number. So, there I am apologizing for my daughter's behavior...and for that of her brother as well. While I am doing this..and any parent that has had to suck ass because their kids are assholes for a day knows exactly what I'm talking about here. Love them yes, but get my ass chewed..oh honey shit so rolls downhill.
So, anyway, here I am on the phone getting my ass chewed by one principal...when the house phone rings again and it is the OTHER school, and man, my sweet little boy with the big blue eyes....she was PISSED at him. He lied like a rug and convinced her he was telling the truth...so, I had to ask her to put HER ass chewing on hold for half a second while I let the first finish up. Sigh.
And when the day was done and everybody was in their rooms crying because momma went senior chief on their asses...that cold beer sure did taste good.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Devoured
I just devoured the new Vince Flynn book. Good book. I can see that happening, one of several scenarios. That's cool. I'm prepared.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Package
Any time anyone gets a package around here, it's an OCCASION in the mind of my youngest two. Well, it is for the older ones too, but they've learned to hide it better over the years.
A buddy of mine and his wife sent me a kick ass knife for my birthday. I love these two folks a lot, too, because they are just truly some of the best people you could ever know. Anyway, so it's in this GIANT box, right?
The tweens come bebopping in with said package all full of questions and whatnot. You wouldn't think that we have parts shipped here on a regular basis, but that is what makes them so cool.
So, the package gets delivered and there's this pretty big box. Whatever could be in a box that big, says they, with their eyes all big and round.
So, I open the box and in the middle of the box, down near the bottom is a package wrapped in the prettiest bow my daughter had ever seen.. She gave me the puppy dog eyes and asked me if she could have the bow. She collects them, saves them, and redistributes them.
The boy, he was eyeing the BOX. He had some toys that would fit just perfect in that box.
So, one birthday gift actually turned into 3 gifts. How cool is that?
A buddy of mine and his wife sent me a kick ass knife for my birthday. I love these two folks a lot, too, because they are just truly some of the best people you could ever know. Anyway, so it's in this GIANT box, right?
The tweens come bebopping in with said package all full of questions and whatnot. You wouldn't think that we have parts shipped here on a regular basis, but that is what makes them so cool.
So, the package gets delivered and there's this pretty big box. Whatever could be in a box that big, says they, with their eyes all big and round.
So, I open the box and in the middle of the box, down near the bottom is a package wrapped in the prettiest bow my daughter had ever seen.. She gave me the puppy dog eyes and asked me if she could have the bow. She collects them, saves them, and redistributes them.
The boy, he was eyeing the BOX. He had some toys that would fit just perfect in that box.
So, one birthday gift actually turned into 3 gifts. How cool is that?
Monday, November 10, 2008
My Birthday
My birthday was yesterday. Next year, I'll be 21 again. This year, I partied like I WAS 21 again. Can I get a big hell yeah?
The senior chief...spoils me. I have said that over and over again, but until you meet us, you can never really get a true sense of what that means. Seriously, the man is wonderful and I cannot imagine any birthday or any day without him in my life.
Technology was the theme for this year and he got me some pretty cool toys. And the food...he cooked me some food yesterday...I'm STILL full. We had two different flavored pork tenderloins, potatoes baked to perfection, and a pretty damn fancy salad that my daughter made. She likes lots of stuff in her salads and so do I.
All my favorite people, favorite food...cool toys...what more could a gal ask for?
Its honestly all I've ever wanted in life..what I have right now. Right now. And I thank my Maker ever day...every day for His gifts...and challenges.
It's good to be alive for another year...and to spend my day...with the people I love the best in the world.
You know, the senior chief is the only one in the world who truly gets...my hatred of dark. I'm not afraid of the dark..jeez, we've lived in this house so long, I know every knook and cranny of this house..it's not like that...but darkness ...makes me depressed and the only cure at all is to have it lit up like the brightest day in summer in order to be able to ..function... honestly..
So, he got me two lamps and a lamp kit for the bedroom in order to achieve that purpose...and that means everything to me.
In my evaluation...conclusions..tying everything together..that's where I lose my story...
Just suffice it to say..this was one hell of a wonderful birthday and I'm glad to be alive.
The senior chief...spoils me. I have said that over and over again, but until you meet us, you can never really get a true sense of what that means. Seriously, the man is wonderful and I cannot imagine any birthday or any day without him in my life.
Technology was the theme for this year and he got me some pretty cool toys. And the food...he cooked me some food yesterday...I'm STILL full. We had two different flavored pork tenderloins, potatoes baked to perfection, and a pretty damn fancy salad that my daughter made. She likes lots of stuff in her salads and so do I.
All my favorite people, favorite food...cool toys...what more could a gal ask for?
Its honestly all I've ever wanted in life..what I have right now. Right now. And I thank my Maker ever day...every day for His gifts...and challenges.
It's good to be alive for another year...and to spend my day...with the people I love the best in the world.
You know, the senior chief is the only one in the world who truly gets...my hatred of dark. I'm not afraid of the dark..jeez, we've lived in this house so long, I know every knook and cranny of this house..it's not like that...but darkness ...makes me depressed and the only cure at all is to have it lit up like the brightest day in summer in order to be able to ..function... honestly..
So, he got me two lamps and a lamp kit for the bedroom in order to achieve that purpose...and that means everything to me.
In my evaluation...conclusions..tying everything together..that's where I lose my story...
Just suffice it to say..this was one hell of a wonderful birthday and I'm glad to be alive.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Writer's Block
Do any of you experience this phenomenon? I bet you do. What if I tell you ???This...it is not a block at all. Well, it is...like a blocked artery...unresolved, it will manifest itself in other forms and none so good as taking care of the problem at hand. Actually ...writing.
To be more specific, writer's block is not caused by a LACK of ideas. Writer's block only happens to those with very fertile minds, yet, who understand instinctively how the author puts his or her mark on every piece of work...no matter whether fiction or non-fiction...writing is rather personal in general and a good writer is good at hiding...but still revealing, nonetheless.
Many writers are not comfortable with revealing that much of themselves. All the best do..L. Ron Hubbard...please..whose manifestation of ISSUES..were the "Psychlos"...honestly..did that not reveal the very KEY to his personality?
So, my challenge to you...are you a writer or aren't you? If you are...you cannot run from it, hide from it, deny it..it is a calling. So honor it and let the masses be damned. The masses have shown their ignorance, anyway.
Or, are you doing it for money? Yeah, there's money to be made, but only if you put your heart and soul into it. Sorry. So, that means as a successful writer...you have to confront your fears, lay them out there in a format everyone can understand and relate to, and show them how to confront them and win. That means, as a successful writer, you have to be accomplished in you know, actually confronting your fears and winning...
Some people do it in such a way that ...you cannot deny it. It is said so very plainly...you cannot deny the truth. Others, hide behind fiction, and what if scenarios, and obscure words and this and that, but the truth...it always, always rings true. The settings may change, the characters may change, but the fact that fiction is fact at least to one person...is undeniable.
You cannot be a writer and not reveal the very depths of your soul. That's a fact. So, choose. Are you going to be a writer, or are you going to continue to be a coward? Or, better said, are you going to ignore the calling? It will continue to torture you, if you do.
Writer's block...a block of choice. Choose.
To be more specific, writer's block is not caused by a LACK of ideas. Writer's block only happens to those with very fertile minds, yet, who understand instinctively how the author puts his or her mark on every piece of work...no matter whether fiction or non-fiction...writing is rather personal in general and a good writer is good at hiding...but still revealing, nonetheless.
Many writers are not comfortable with revealing that much of themselves. All the best do..L. Ron Hubbard...please..whose manifestation of ISSUES..were the "Psychlos"...honestly..did that not reveal the very KEY to his personality?
So, my challenge to you...are you a writer or aren't you? If you are...you cannot run from it, hide from it, deny it..it is a calling. So honor it and let the masses be damned. The masses have shown their ignorance, anyway.
Or, are you doing it for money? Yeah, there's money to be made, but only if you put your heart and soul into it. Sorry. So, that means as a successful writer...you have to confront your fears, lay them out there in a format everyone can understand and relate to, and show them how to confront them and win. That means, as a successful writer, you have to be accomplished in you know, actually confronting your fears and winning...
Some people do it in such a way that ...you cannot deny it. It is said so very plainly...you cannot deny the truth. Others, hide behind fiction, and what if scenarios, and obscure words and this and that, but the truth...it always, always rings true. The settings may change, the characters may change, but the fact that fiction is fact at least to one person...is undeniable.
You cannot be a writer and not reveal the very depths of your soul. That's a fact. So, choose. Are you going to be a writer, or are you going to continue to be a coward? Or, better said, are you going to ignore the calling? It will continue to torture you, if you do.
Writer's block...a block of choice. Choose.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Rules For The Non Military
I found this somewhere..thought I'd share. Y'all know how I'm all about ASS KICKING..eh?
Rules for the Non-Military
Dear Civilians, We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military.
For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:
1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem - kick their ass.
2. When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest - kick their ass.
3. Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.
4. (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be 'Special Forces,' and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.
5. Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, 'Do you fly a jet?' Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).
6. If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard 'non-military', inform them of their mistake - and kick their ass.
7. Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your **** feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her - of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.
8. Don't try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran.
We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn't know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet; all we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out. If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!
9. 'Your mama wears combat boots.' never made sense to me - stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore could kick your ass!
10. Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying 'Let's go kill those Commies!' And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me - if you see anyone calling those **** psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass!
11. 'Flyboy' (Air Force), 'Jarhead' (Marines), 'Grunt' (Army), 'Squid'(Navy), 'Puddle Jumpers' (Coast Guard), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked.
12. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get it's 'ass kicked.'
'It's the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.'
'It's the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.'
'It's the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.'
'It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.'
One more:
13. If you ever see anyone either standing for or singing the national anthem in Spanish - KICK THEIR ASS
Rules for the Non-Military
Dear Civilians, We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military.
For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:
1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem - kick their ass.
2. When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest - kick their ass.
3. Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.
4. (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be 'Special Forces,' and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.
5. Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, 'Do you fly a jet?' Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).
6. If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard 'non-military', inform them of their mistake - and kick their ass.
7. Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your **** feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her - of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.
8. Don't try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran.
We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn't know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet; all we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out. If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!
9. 'Your mama wears combat boots.' never made sense to me - stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore could kick your ass!
10. Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying 'Let's go kill those Commies!' And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me - if you see anyone calling those **** psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass!
11. 'Flyboy' (Air Force), 'Jarhead' (Marines), 'Grunt' (Army), 'Squid'(Navy), 'Puddle Jumpers' (Coast Guard), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked.
12. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get it's 'ass kicked.'
'It's the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.'
'It's the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.'
'It's the Veteran, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.'
'It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.'
One more:
13. If you ever see anyone either standing for or singing the national anthem in Spanish - KICK THEIR ASS
A Guy...
His load is very heavy. As he struggles along, he wonders, how did I get here and will she have me back?
These are the only thoughts in his head, really, as he staggers along the boulevard, so heavily laden. He doesn’t realize that he looks drunk upon first inspection.
He’s just plodding along, with all of his personal belongings in a hefty trash bag slung over his right shoulder and a case of beer he just bought at the Wal-Mart in a cooler in his right hand. The imbalance and shifting of the load, causes him to stagger a bit.
In his left hand, though, is the most precious thing of all. The one thing he hopes will be the thing to win her over and allow him to come home. He spent the last of his money on it and even bought cheaper beer.
A crystal vase with 3 yellow flowers... her favorites… a token of his affection and his only hope. Whatever happens, if he doesn’t have at least this token, there is no hope. He cradles the vase as if it was gold and in a way, it is.
He reaches his destination, knocks on the door and waits, precious flowers in hand. He hopes beyond hope that she still loves him. She said she would love him forever, to infinity and beyond. He hopes.
Finally, she comes to the door.
“Mom?” he says.
These are the only thoughts in his head, really, as he staggers along the boulevard, so heavily laden. He doesn’t realize that he looks drunk upon first inspection.
He’s just plodding along, with all of his personal belongings in a hefty trash bag slung over his right shoulder and a case of beer he just bought at the Wal-Mart in a cooler in his right hand. The imbalance and shifting of the load, causes him to stagger a bit.
In his left hand, though, is the most precious thing of all. The one thing he hopes will be the thing to win her over and allow him to come home. He spent the last of his money on it and even bought cheaper beer.
A crystal vase with 3 yellow flowers... her favorites… a token of his affection and his only hope. Whatever happens, if he doesn’t have at least this token, there is no hope. He cradles the vase as if it was gold and in a way, it is.
He reaches his destination, knocks on the door and waits, precious flowers in hand. He hopes beyond hope that she still loves him. She said she would love him forever, to infinity and beyond. He hopes.
Finally, she comes to the door.
“Mom?” he says.
Obama
Besides being the president elect, the first black american president..although, being that he isn't pure black..how does that work? Whose to say he didn't get elected because of his white half..but whatever.
He is also the true anti-christ. Mark my words.
He is also the true anti-christ. Mark my words.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Done
Done voting...now the wait begins. And believe me, if my guy and gal do not win, I'm gonna do some SERIOUS bitching.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Good Ideas
Some social programs are good ideas.
Take, for example, the HOPE scholarship. That started as a dream. Every child should have the opportunity to go to college regardless of income. Excellent.
Now, how is this going to happen? State lottery. See my drift here? Our TAX dollars don't go into funding this goal, we voluntarily pay into it..and it works.
It's good to have dreams like that. It's bad to expect the money to just present itself. The difference in a dream and a reality is not as far as some would like to think, it's just too much work. You know, do a little math first? Find out how much that would cost..worst case scenario and best case scenario and prepare for the worst, and then you have an excess. I don't know why this is such a very hard concept to understand.
It all boils down to just numbers. People are so scared of numbers...and working hard to achieve the numbers they want to see.
When did this country stop believing in hard work and start believing in handouts? And nothing comes free. Not a damn thing.
But, no there's still people going to go out there and try to put that socialist in office. Not this gal.
Do any of these people even know how to do a simple budget? It does make one wonder.
And all this hoopla over Wall street. Give me a break and do some more math...why did food prices go up? Because gas prices went up. Now that gas prices are down, do you think maybe, just maybe, the cost of food go down correspondingly. I could give some prices for you...toilet paper. A hot commodity for most families. Before...$18 for a bulk bunch. While the gas prices were so high...$25..for the same toilet paper. Today..$22. Not QUITE back where we were, but getting there rapidly.
Obama isn't promising a damn thing that isn't going to happen anyway. Only we're gonna let him meddle in it and make things worse. Change my ass.
Let me tell ya about McCain and what he's done for disabled veterans...so far. If you were medically retired in times past, you were given a disablity rating..20%, 30%..70% and then awarded that percentage of your base pay, or whatever you would retire at, whichever is higher. Then the VA would take that money and give you a disability rating and then THAT portion of your income was tax free. So, for being a disabled veteran, you pretty much got a tax break. Nothing extra in the way of cash to help offset the costs of rehabilitation, or if the person was totally disabled, some extra because they lost their ability to work in service to this country.
Ya with me? What John McCain pushed through is what they call concurrent pay. So, not only do they get the award from the DOD, the original 70% (or whatever percentage) of that, they also now, get an extra award from the VA based upon their evaluation of the disability percentage.
So, you got a guy who is 50% disabled and his take home is say $2000 a month..that guy, before ..all he got was the $2000 a month total. Of that, $1000 would be tax free. Now, what he gets is the $2000 and I'm guessing the whole amount is taxable now, not sure, but what else he gets is an EXTRA $1000 a month from the VA for a total of $3000. NOW are you with me? John McCain was instrumental in getting that pushed through.
Now these guys can afford to live while they rehabilitate, go to college and learn another trade.
Don't forget to vote. It won't be over until the fat lady sings.
Take, for example, the HOPE scholarship. That started as a dream. Every child should have the opportunity to go to college regardless of income. Excellent.
Now, how is this going to happen? State lottery. See my drift here? Our TAX dollars don't go into funding this goal, we voluntarily pay into it..and it works.
It's good to have dreams like that. It's bad to expect the money to just present itself. The difference in a dream and a reality is not as far as some would like to think, it's just too much work. You know, do a little math first? Find out how much that would cost..worst case scenario and best case scenario and prepare for the worst, and then you have an excess. I don't know why this is such a very hard concept to understand.
It all boils down to just numbers. People are so scared of numbers...and working hard to achieve the numbers they want to see.
When did this country stop believing in hard work and start believing in handouts? And nothing comes free. Not a damn thing.
But, no there's still people going to go out there and try to put that socialist in office. Not this gal.
Do any of these people even know how to do a simple budget? It does make one wonder.
And all this hoopla over Wall street. Give me a break and do some more math...why did food prices go up? Because gas prices went up. Now that gas prices are down, do you think maybe, just maybe, the cost of food go down correspondingly. I could give some prices for you...toilet paper. A hot commodity for most families. Before...$18 for a bulk bunch. While the gas prices were so high...$25..for the same toilet paper. Today..$22. Not QUITE back where we were, but getting there rapidly.
Obama isn't promising a damn thing that isn't going to happen anyway. Only we're gonna let him meddle in it and make things worse. Change my ass.
Let me tell ya about McCain and what he's done for disabled veterans...so far. If you were medically retired in times past, you were given a disablity rating..20%, 30%..70% and then awarded that percentage of your base pay, or whatever you would retire at, whichever is higher. Then the VA would take that money and give you a disability rating and then THAT portion of your income was tax free. So, for being a disabled veteran, you pretty much got a tax break. Nothing extra in the way of cash to help offset the costs of rehabilitation, or if the person was totally disabled, some extra because they lost their ability to work in service to this country.
Ya with me? What John McCain pushed through is what they call concurrent pay. So, not only do they get the award from the DOD, the original 70% (or whatever percentage) of that, they also now, get an extra award from the VA based upon their evaluation of the disability percentage.
So, you got a guy who is 50% disabled and his take home is say $2000 a month..that guy, before ..all he got was the $2000 a month total. Of that, $1000 would be tax free. Now, what he gets is the $2000 and I'm guessing the whole amount is taxable now, not sure, but what else he gets is an EXTRA $1000 a month from the VA for a total of $3000. NOW are you with me? John McCain was instrumental in getting that pushed through.
Now these guys can afford to live while they rehabilitate, go to college and learn another trade.
Don't forget to vote. It won't be over until the fat lady sings.
I'm A Simple Gal
And, right now, in my small little world, it's all about the dollars and cents, and sense, too. Now, being a simple gal, I need simple answers. But answers I do need.
So, when you ask a candidate a direct question and you don't get the basics involved in the answer..who? what? when? where? why? and how? THEN you have been given a complete answer. But when those basic questions cannot or will not be answered, then I have a problem with a candidate.
I was watching the news this morning, and only Saxby Chambliss had real answers, to the tune of numbers. That is the only thing that's going to make me feel good right now. Real answers. He answered, with real numbers, gave an accounting, if you will, of the money, who it's for, where it's going and how much we're going to make off of it in the long run. Good to know. I can do the math.
What is this change..of which we speak. Here's the deal people. If you want change..then do something to change. That's the ONLY way change is gonna happen. But that doesn't make people feel better, does it? Not right this second. That's gonna take a while...when you start achieving. It does no good to keep on being a slave...and when you take something for nothing, then you're gonna be expected to pay somehow. Give me a break. Me, I like to be free, personally.
So, when you ask a candidate a direct question and you don't get the basics involved in the answer..who? what? when? where? why? and how? THEN you have been given a complete answer. But when those basic questions cannot or will not be answered, then I have a problem with a candidate.
I was watching the news this morning, and only Saxby Chambliss had real answers, to the tune of numbers. That is the only thing that's going to make me feel good right now. Real answers. He answered, with real numbers, gave an accounting, if you will, of the money, who it's for, where it's going and how much we're going to make off of it in the long run. Good to know. I can do the math.
What is this change..of which we speak. Here's the deal people. If you want change..then do something to change. That's the ONLY way change is gonna happen. But that doesn't make people feel better, does it? Not right this second. That's gonna take a while...when you start achieving. It does no good to keep on being a slave...and when you take something for nothing, then you're gonna be expected to pay somehow. Give me a break. Me, I like to be free, personally.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Halloween ROCKED!
We don't get many trick or treaters living in the semi-boondocks and all. My little ones have decided that trick or treating is pretty damn lame. It took them a few years, but they never have fun until we all come home after trick or treating and then the real party begins.
This year we all wound up in the garage, swapping hats and wigs and whatnot. It was a lot of fun. One of the older kids stopped by with his little dude, who is a TON of fun.
It was a spontaneous tornado party, really. When I got up the next morning, my house was littered with ..people. Heheh! I cooked them a big breakfast and put them to work cleaning up the mess. Sometimes the cleanup parties can be as much fun as the parties themselves.
Next year, Halloween will be something different. Perhaps we'll plan for what already is. There is a time to adapt to your environment, and there is a time to make your environment adapt your needs.
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