Straight Shooter ~

Once Upon a Time...

2010-09-10T19:57:00.000-05:00

there was a very different world...

One where the sun shined, the skies were brillant blue, and we had not a care in the world.

Then our world fell apart...

Our spirits seemed reduced to rubble...

But America is more than a place. More than a name.

It is a home.

A home to the Free and the Brave...

We shall always overcome.

We shall always stand united.

Since we are America, we will always remember.

199 Bottles of Beer or just 199 Days Ago...

2010-09-03T22:06:00.000-05:00

Apparently if it's been 199 days since someone last blogged, they lose their ability to come up with titles. Or topics. Or even scant ideas of what to blog about.
I hope this phenomenon does not last long...now that I actually miss blogging and have a wee bit of time in my life to actually participate in it again.
Of course I haven't lost my ultra-sharp tongue, a.k.a. opinions, when it comes to politics, nor has my love of country and appreciation of our service men and women wanned. And I have plenty o'stories about The Sweet Spawn, Sledge, the Brain Dead Pug and our newest member Scooter Booter, but I just can't quite decide where to start. Should the first post back inform you that Big Shooter is a Ranch Hand? Both of the Sweet Spawn are taller than me and spent a MONTH in Idaho this summer? Or that I had to straddle a gear shift positioned precariously close to my woohaw for 188 miles with a tow truck driver named Stinky Clifford shifting often?
I can't decide, so for tonight I think I'll just say, "I've missed you BloggyLand! I'm looking forward to reconnecting with you!"

Day 3 & 4 Combine

2010-02-17T00:31:00.003-06:00

I so wanted to post everyday! So ain't gonna happen y'all!

So I've come up with my own Winter Olympics event it's called:
The Stellar, Useless, Obscure, Olympic Tib Bit Combine Post

Since most Combine Events take place over a couple days...I'll post at least every coupla days too! (Great ~~excuse~~ ~~justification~~ idea huh?)

Where to begin this Combined Post? Do we start with the Drama (with a capitol D) in the Men's Figure Skating? How the media puts such pressure on our young athletes and then seems to drown in their own excited saliva when they fail to get the job done? How about the way US Gold Medalist Seth Westcott's WWII vet grandpa influenced his Olympic experience? Or the fact there is, for the second time in Olympic history, a prego momma participating in these Games?

Nah. I think we'll start with the fact that if you want Coke, you don't drink Shasta Cola. If you want a Xerox copy, you don't use a certain cheap @$$ printer that needs to be replaced. And if you want an envious, high quality, international standard event on perfect ice, you don't use...

these specially made $1,000,000 off-brand ice machines.

Everyone knows you use the tried and true...

ZAMBONI!!!!

What did our Gold Medalist Seth Westcott bring to these Games with him?

"I had a pretty powerful moment packing that thing in my backpack."

- US snowboard gold medallist Seth Wescott on carrying his late grandfather's World War II service flag.

And the media? Could they be any more houndish with our athletes??

How many ways can Lindsay say, "I fell people...I was young, dumb and reckless."

They were dying to get a story of redemption.

They missed it.

It was a much deeper, closer story than they could imagine.

And while they were slippin' and slidin' in their greedy saliva rushing to get the next big story...they passed this one.

In the same race Lindsay fell in 4 years ago in Turino and got the dreaded Silver,

Maelle Ricker crashed and was air-lifted out.

4 years later, while the media was stalking Lindsay, she was quietly readying herself for redemption.

While our eyes were glued on the red vest falling to the wayside...

Maelle Ricker crossed the finish line 20 minutes from the house she grew up in and became the female darling of Canada...

Way to go Girl.

One last fun little picture for this, the first Combined Post event, that shows the judges for the ski jumping. Each time they were mentioned I wondered where they were located to be able to watch the jumps from the side of the mountain.

Now we know...

Good Night my fellow Americans!

May your popcorn have just the perfect amount of butter tomorrow night while enjoying the halfpipe! The girls flying down the hills in Downhill! Apollo...sigh, need I say more? It's gonna be a grand eveing!

O Canada!

2010-02-14T22:38:00.003-06:00

As Mary Carillo said, "The O in O Canada! no longer stands for Zero."

It was a 5 Kleenex Alarm in the Shooter household when Alexandre went down to hug his big brother, Fredrick, who he'd dedicated the race to and who suffers from cerebral palsy.

After almost 34 YEARS of never winning a gold on home turf...CONGRATULATIONS Canada!!!

The Crumb Snatchers began asking questions about the moguls and the snow as we watched so the answers I researched provide Day 2s fascinating, obscure Olympic Tid Bits!

It begins with moving in the "special" white stuff.

Followed by specialized construction.

One of the questions was, "Why is the snow so dirty when everything else has to be so perfect?"

The answer is, as the athletes are flying down the hill and through the air, they need something in the pure white to offer a contrast. Give them a target so to speak.

Alexandre had a whole country behind him...I found two of the CUTEST CANUCKS!

My own love of flowers lead me to this stellar find of Obscure Olympic Tid Bit...

The Victory Bouquet is made of indigenous plants and flowers from the area...except they only bloom in the summer. So the indigenous flowers were grown and then flown from Ecuador.

They are literally changing lives in Canada.

The florists who won the bid to make them chose to partner with non-profit organizations that help "women who face barriers" when it comes to legitimate employment.

The girls that make them would other wise not be involved or impacted by the Olympics in a significant way. They are recovering from addiction, leaving prison, exiting the sex trade or are victims of violence.

Instead, they all now have a viable future skill to fall back on.

Way Cool.

As we watched (and listened) to the pairs short programs tonight, one outfit (the shiny blue pantsuit) reminded me of a long ago Olympics America got the privilege of watching the Merrells favorite Olympic announcer - Scott Hamilton.

I found the picture...

A few things about Mr. Hamilton outside the rink:

1) He survived testicular cancer.

2) After skating with the Ice Capades, he formed the Stars On Ice.

3) He was the first celebrity to grant a wish for the Make a Wish Foundation.

4) He is on he Board of Directors for the Special Olympics International.

5) He's a husband to this beauty. And father to a 6 and a 2 yo boy.

6) He's a strong christian believer.

And for just plain ole fun...

Apollo Fans...

Dedicated, timeless Apollo fans...

Pray for our troops in harms way. Pray for their wives, children, mommas, daddies, sisters and brothers. They all sacrifice so very much for us to live our lives, watch our prime time tv, drink our fancy signature mixes and pray without fear.

God Bless America and our brave soldiers.

Let the GAMES Begin!!!

2010-02-13T19:33:00.001-06:00

I've received too many emails about the Olympics to not try my hardest to post about these games!
So here's the answers to a few of the questions I keep getting:

YES...I'm still a total Olympic Fuh-Reek...therefore, so is my fam. Some by choice, some by force.

Yes, we are turning it into a total learning lesson. Big Shooter started it off by decorating the livingroom with big beautiful American flags, a giant world map, ski equipment and a surprise Name That Country By It's Flag game he made up on on the fly. Sigh...he's a man who's captured my heart!

Yep, I'm going to be doing research each day about the happenings and all those fun extra little tid bits in these Games like I did for the Summer Games. However, I cannot promise to be the most consistent at posting what I learn. Sorry. You may, or may not have noticed I've been absent lately from the Blogosphere. Life. It's happening all around me.

The 2010 Winter Olympics logo is named Ilanaaq, which is the Inuktitut word for friend.

The mascots for the 2010 Winter Olympic and Paralympic Games were inspired by traditional First Nations creatures, the mascots include:

Miga — A mythical sea bear, part orca and part kermode bear.
Quatchi — A sasquatch, who wears boots and earmuffs.

Sumi — An animal guardian spirit who wears the hat of the orca whale, flies with the wings of the mighty Thunderbird and runs on the strong furry legs of the black bear.

First Extra Odd Tid Bit:

Skating Diva - Johnny Weir has elected to stay in the Olympic Village bc it is "more easily secured than a hotel". (He complained long and hard about his accomodations in the Village the last Olympics and had his heart set on a luxury stay this go round.) He has received valid and serious threats from anit-fur activists and is justifibly concened for his safety. (The irony of being threatened with your life from an anti-fur group just kinda cracks me up honestly.) However, they should be a little less angry with him, bc he has given in and sacrificed style and design be replacing the white fox on his outfit with faux fox.

Here are the adjectives the announcers used describing the Mens Figure Skating competition (no giggling):

* Deep

* Rich

* Staggering

* Unrelenting

* Exciting

and

*Unbridled

Please stop giggling. They were ssssserious.

And therefore, so am I. It starts tomorrow. I'm popping my popcorn early to get a good seat!

Never the Underdog ~ Shaun White

2010-01-16T22:45:00.000-06:00

Picking the first was hard...and easy.
The boy just begs to be part of your family.
The Crumbs wish he was.
We've watched him with awe the past few years. He's won many more titles, dated some of the world's most notorious women (notice, I did not say beautiful...), he's made a whole industry bow down to his name and he's always positive. Hope he stays that way...

Family sacrifice
When White first started snowboarding, his career put a significant financial burden on his family, costing his parents $20,000 a year. In the infancy of his career, the family (Shaun, Roger, Cathy and his siblings, Jesse and Kari) would drive up to Mammoth every weekend and sleep in their 1964 Econoline van (a.k.a. "Big Mo"), cooking meals on a stove in the back. As Shaun got older, the family began staying at a motel, but the lifestyle still required significant sacrifice. Cathy spent her weeks shuttling back and forth between bringing Shaun to Mammoth and waiting tables in San Diego, and by 2002, her 1998 Honda had reportedly accumulated 180,000 miles.

Early trouble

White was born with a heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot, which his website (www.shaunwhite.com) describes as "a series of heart malformations." The heart defect required two major surgeries at a young age.
He was also severely bow-legged early in his childhood and had to wear corrective leg braces at night. However, neither malady stopped White from trying snowboarding at age six (with the assistance of his father, Roger). The entire White family has since taken up snowboarding, with Cathy (his mother) being the last to learn.

Halfpipe coronation
Entering the 2006 Torino Games, White was widely considered the favorite to take Olympic gold in men's halfpipe. However, the Carlsbad, Calif., native got an early scare when a mistake on his first qualifying run left him with just 37.7 points, facing a do-or-die scenario to earn a spot in the final with his second qualifying run. White ended up qualifying with ease on that second run, and in the final, he did not disappoint, claiming the Olympic title with a dominant performance. Riding to AC/DC's Back in Black, the then-19-year-old racked up 46.8 points in the first run of the final round, a score that no other competitor would surpass. During his interview with NBC after the victory, White broke down, unable to hold back his tears.

Two-sport star

In addition to owning the Olympic snowboarding crown, White is also a champion skateboarder who claimed the skateboard vert title at the 2007 Summer X Games, making him the first athlete ever to win Summer and Winter X Games titles. White skates professionally in the summer, leaving him roughly six months on the snow each year, making his achievements in snowboarding and skateboarding all the more impressive. And though White didn't win his first X Games title until 2007, his skateboarding career has long been ordained for greatness - he first started skateboarding with the legendary Tony Hawk at age nine.

Project X
In the spring of 2009, Red Bull, one of White's principal sponsors, built him a private halfpipe complete with foam pit at Silverton Mountain in southwestern Colorado. Dubbed Project X, the pipe was built on the backside of a mountain in an inconspicuous avalanche chute, reachable only by helicopter and snowmobile. There, it took White all of three days to land the trick that would come to dominate snowboard chatter over the summer and beyond - the double-cork. The game-changing maneuver involves two off-axis rotations, or diagonal flips. And at the season's opening World Cup event in New Zealand in August, White debuted back-to-back double-cork spins en route to victory. The first of those double-corks was a cab 1080 stalefish, meaning that while White was twice flipping diagonally, he was also executing three full spins and grabbing the board at his back heel edge.

The empire

From his relatively modest beginning, White has ascended to a staggering level of success. He reportedly earns more than $9 million annually, primarily from endorsement deals with Burton, Hewlett-Packard, Oakley, Red Bull, and Target, putting him second behind skateboarding legend Tony Hawk in Forbes' 2008 list of the highest-paid action sports stars. White also owns a Lamborghini and three homes, including one on the beach in Carlsbad, Calif. And like the aforementioned Hawk, White reached a notable digital milestone in November 2008 when he officially became the title character in his own video game, Shaun White Snowboarding.

We'll be watching you closely and cheering you on Shaun. Make America proud!

Love Note to Big Shooter: Just so you know Love, I pretty much just plagairized this article since I promised to not spend such insane amounts of time researching...that's going to be my compromise. Just so you know. In case the Plagairism Police come knocking.

Anti-War Monger

2010-01-16T21:21:00.000-06:00

Y'all know nothin' lights my fire faster than questionable treatment of our troops ~ the men, women and families who sacrifice so much every day for each of us to live our lives in the manner we've come to demand and expect, instead of treasure and respect.
So imagine my reaction to THIS ap article I came across this evening...

A group led by anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan has protested near the CIA's headquarters and former Vice President Dick Cheney's home in northern Virginia.

They were protesting the use of unmanned drone aircraft to attack al-Qaida and Taliban targets.

The group of about 70 people rallied alongside a highway near the CIA compound Saturday. About half then marched to Cheney's nearby street and stayed for 20 minutes. Police kept them from going down his street.

Sheehan's 21-year-old son Casey was killed in Iraq in April 2004. She staged a prolonged demonstration outside former President George W. Bush's ranch near Crawford, Texas, in 2005.

She says using drones is "cowardly" and "immoral."

I don't get it people. I really, really don't.
She's protested the war in general for years. I do get that. It's been a long haul. It's been extremely costly in American lives. But, I also feel there's been no real solution presented to the problem either. (I was secretly harboring a hope the Messiah would have presented/followed through with his solutions by now.) So if she was protesting that, I'd understand. But she's not. She's protesting the use of NON-MANNED WEAPONS against true enemies of the state.

These groups make no bones about it, no justifications, no excuses, not the merest hint of denial about the way they feel about us or Israel. We are dogs. We are infidels. We are whores. They hate us. They wish each one of us dead. They are training to kill as many of us as they can. They plan their attacks on our troops day and night. They will stop at nothing. She wants us to leave them alone. That's her opinion. She's entitled to it. The troops are fighting for her right to express herself freely.
The catch is, they are going to continue attacking us. We will need to defend ourselves against them whether we are there or here. Period.
And according to her, saving American lives by using non-manned methods is "cowardly" and "immoral".

mon⋅ger [muhng-ger, mong-]
–noun 1. a person who is involved with something in a petty or contemptible way

Ready or Not...Here They Come!

2010-01-13T22:42:00.001-06:00

Nearly 250 athletes will venture north of the border to represent the United States at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

Here are the 15 sports we'll be cheering them on in...

A mere 30 days!!!

Bobsled

Alpine Skiing

Cross Country Skiing

Biathalon

Curling

Free Style Skiing

Figure Skating

Ice Hockey

Luge

Nordic Combined

Snowboard

Ski Jumping

Skeleton

Speed Skating

Short Track

Okay, my heart rate has increased. My breathing is getting ragged and quick. I feel the need to scream, moan and roll my head around...and it's not for the reason you may think. It's because I'm getting giddy with anticipated excitement for the Opening Ceremony.

Tomorrow you get to meet one of our stars.

I can't wait!

Love Note to Big Shooter: You show patience for my obsession. You show tolerance for my insanity. You show genuine interest (don't admit anything else if that's not true) in all the craziness leading up to the Blessed Event. You show intense enthusiasm right along side me...thanks for your unconditional love, my Love.

Sex Talk

2010-01-10T19:48:00.001-06:00

Last Christmas Eve (2008) I decided I wasn't waiting any longer for Big Shooter to get over...well, whatever he needed to get over to have the Sex Talk with the Boy Child so I could have the same talk with the Girl Child.
So I decided to do it myself. Both of them. At the same time.

Let's just say I now have the best advice in the world to hand out to parents all over the world trying to save themselves from having to do the Sex Talk more than once.

Do more than one. Do as many as children you have. Do practice sessions. Do extras.
Just don't do them AT THE SAME TIME! Ever.

I'm not going to get into the whole conversation and questions here. Just know that when some certain information finally sank in, Boy Child sputtered and choked, "I have to do what to my wife??"...in front of his sister. And later, "Do I have to? Will I get a divorce if I don't want to?"

And Girl Child? Poor Girl Child. She couldn't say anything for days other than, "Mommy, does it really, really, really hurt when the baby comes out? Or just really hurt?" I felt awful for her. I'd crushed her little Mommyhood Bubble. The girl was meant to me a Momma. Aside from all the tom-boy, dirt, animal-loving and target shooting...she just wants to be a fantastic Momma. She talks about it all the time. She practices. She plans it. She dreams about it. Ooooh the trauma of learning the truth!

Now, mind you, I made it all wonderful, ooey-gooey and lovey-dovey. I really did. In fact, I've shared how I approached it with many mommas and daddies who have shared it in the same fashion.

That isn't the problem.

It's the natural curiosity since it all start soaked in + the unabashed openness the Shooter Household is known for that makes, at times, even my toes curl with the questions these precious little maturing Crumb Snatchers now ask.

No matter when or where we are (much, much, MUCH to Big Shooter's chagrin), if they ask a question about sex answer as honestly as I possibly can. After a year of this it's not a big deal any more and I love the fact they trust us enough to ask all the questions that just seem to pop in their heads from out of left field.
I am also relieved to announce, after a year, Big Shooter has chilled out and can now calmly field a tough sexual question instead of directing all traffic my way.

This all brings me to today's conversation while driving to a movie.

We were parked at a corner with a gentelmen's club on Boy Child's side of the car. Girl Child said, "Ick. Did anyone read that banner? It said, 'Coldest Beer and Hottest Girls in Town'. Now who in this car would want that???" Big Shooter tightened my hand bc we've been wondering when we'd have to address the strip club issue since we live on the side of Plainsville these establishments are seen more often. Before we could say anything, Girl Child reported from the backseat, "Ummm guys...you should know...your son just raised his hand. Apparently, he wants cold beer and hot girls."
Now my hand held a death grip on Big Shooter's since he was trying to suppress a grin. (Have I ever shared the one testicle story about Boy Child? If not, just know Big Shooter gets a big kick and sigh of relief whenever our boy shows any natural interest in girls... Then remind me after the Blessed Event - Olympics - is finished and I'll tell you how we have a Leftie - as in, he has only one left.)

After our cautious explanation, they both came to their own conclusions.
These were that Girl Child didn't want to become a stripper. (sigh of relief)
And Boy Child had apparently changed his mind about wanting cold beer and hot girls once he found out they were naked. (sigh of relief from me...a "go figure" shrug from his father).
I guess we did our religious, right-wing-nut-job, conservative, redneck jobs well.

Although, when they fully understood what actually took place, they naturally went to the sex subject. They both asked questions about the actions and attitudes of a strip joint leading to sex, the desire for sex and sexual temptaions...Sex, sex, SEX! (Is this all these spawn think about now??)

Before we had time to gather our thoughts on all the questions and decide where to start, Girl Child very firmly declared, "Well, I've decided if I'm ever tempted...I'm just gonna slap a sticker on my flower that says OUT. OF. ORDER!"

Big Shooter released the steering wheel, threw his hands in the air, and shouted...
"AMEN!!"

Yep. We're making progress.

Love Note to My Big Shooter: Yep, sex, sex, SEX... I wonder where they get that from? Hmmmm. Heh, heh.

Crumb Snatcher Speak

2010-01-03T23:42:00.000-06:00

I will never tire of the funny things they say. And they are definitely getting further and further apart...
I don't even know if I can explain this one clearly, but I have to try.

Boy Child called while I was out to ask if I'd take him to Game Stop to exhcange a game before they closed. I said, "Sure. You'll need to call and see if they're still open." I hung up and called them too. (I mistakenly thought it'd take him a little while to look up their number. I now think he has their number memorized.) I called the one on Elm Dr. and asked their hours. My phone immediately rang. I answered it with, "Guess what? They close at 7:00." His response was a surprised, "Mommy! Did you call the one on Elm doctor too?!?"

Love Note to Big Shooter: Took two whole days to count them all. But, I came up with 378 ways... ;o)

To be or not to be...

2010-01-02T23:51:00.000-06:00

resolute? That is the question.

Big Shooter and I have not made any resolutions in years because, honestly, what's the point of putting ourselves through the agony of facing our giant out-of-reach goals in the next few weeks and then withstanding the emotional failure of having to consciously let them go by the way side? Why put ourselves through that again and again? So we haven't. We stopped like 15 years ago.

I'm so over that silly decision.

I'm staking my claim. Making them in public.

One easy, make-ya-feel-good kind.
And one not so easy to keep, but a make-ya-feel-good-if-ya-keep-it kind.

The first is going to come as a complete surprise to you all.
I'm going to commit to being a complete and utter over-the-top fool for the 2010 Olympics. (I know. Go ahead and pick yourself up now.)
Here's how: I'm going to publish a daily Getting to Know Your USA Team post for 30 days leading up to the blessed event. The first one will be January 13th. (Just doing you a favor so you can hold your breath, break out all your red, white and blue clothes and prepare the snacks.)

The second one is a bit more hairy to accomplish since it will involve many of my family members. And y'all know that's like herding cats. While talking with an old family friend she explained how she'd appointed herself the Family Orator. Once a month she sends everyone in the fam a Family Update. I miss my family dearly living here in Plainsville. Some live in Idaho, some in Washington, some in Colorado, some in Conneticut and some in Wyoming. So I've now appointed myself the 2010 Family Orator. (If you're reading this fam, I'll be calling you soon with my interview questions, pen and pad...puh-leeze answer the phone. I really want to accomplish one New Year's Resolution in my life!)

Love Note to my Big Shooter: (Sigh.) I'm still counting the ways...

2009 Get the Hell Outta Dodge Already!

2009-12-31T18:04:00.000-06:00

I was reading a Plainsville newspaper article highlighting the decade's highs and lows a couple days ago.

I realized a few things:

* There are always going to be highs and lows...it matters how you face them.

* Love, family and true friends are truly the only things that matter in life.

* 10 years goes a whole heckuva lot slower when you're younger...

In the past decade, Big Shooter and I have been blessed with:

* Healthy, growing Spawn. (Well, except for the nasty, old man horn that grew out of Boy

Child's ....nose a couple years ago... and the fact that he's allergic to everything not grown in an organic garden and raised on a local farm which of course puts a little damper on my lifestyle. But hey, it's all in the way we face it right?)

* A marriage thankfully made of Silly Putty. It has been flatten and stretched by the Wringer of Life and been re-inflated through the Bringer of Life these past years.

* And True Friendships that have kept us buoyed in the past few years of sickness and life altering changes...

We've most definitely molted many times over and we have become very comfortable in our new skins.

Before I receive a bajillion emails and texts asking if this is really us...have we gone off the deep end? Let me answer, "Yes, that's really us...at a goth themed wedding reception. And yes, we've most definitely gone waaay off the deep end...but we're still the same ole, same ole Shooters just the same."

Love Note to Big Shooter: Wow it's been waaay too long since I've sat down and wrote you a stinkin' Love Note! Let's see...How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. And the ways. And the wa...heh, heh.

What in the HECK??

2009-10-19T22:20:00.001-05:00

If ya'll know what happened here...Puh-Leeze give me the inside scoop!

R.I.P. Straight Shooter

2009-07-27T08:29:00.004-05:00

Good Morning World from my hospital bed in Plainsville!

Long time no hear from I know. Here's why:

Had a hysterectomy. (don't need any more Sweet and Loving Spawn)
Had major bladder repair. (hopefully, no more spontaneous piddling on the floor)
Big Shooter took aforementioned Sweet Spawn to Idaho to hang with their beloved Grammie while I recuperated...
While BS was 5 states away, I threw a couple pulmonary embolisms.
Started to bleed to death.
Crashed.
Went to ICU.
Got stabilized.
Started to bleed to death.
Crashed.
Stopped breathing.
Went to ICU.
Crashed.
Stayed in ICU.
Now stable on blood thinners.
Third week in hospital.

Nothing new and exciting going on here. How about you?

Love Note to my Other Spouse: Saucy Sashi, how to thank you for never letting my hand go during the first scare? Keeping me calm, lifting me up in prayer, being my spouse until BS could return? You literally saved my life. You're a hero.

Love Note to Big Shooter: Where to begin? Thank you for rushing back to be by my side? Thank you for never stop talking so I could hear your voice in those scary, scary times? Thank you for sleeping on a rock hard sofa(ish) for weeks and never uttering a complaint just so your presence can be a comfort to me? Thank you for being a rock? An anchor? My life preserver?

Happy Father's Day Grandpa!

2009-06-20T00:38:00.000-05:00

From all your kiddos...

Even the 4-legged ones...

We so hope your day is abundantly filled with love.

Life Lessons...just keep comin'

2009-06-09T10:37:00.002-05:00

Remember when I introduced our great neighbor The Recluse Artist? I mentioned then how I wanted to have the whole thing all thought out and go in order down my street and how that never seems to be how things work out in the Shooter house.

Well, I actually had a post ready to go to introduce you to Fruitcake Mary this week. Instead, you're going to meet the newest additions ~ Bugsy & Precious.

Before I formally introduce them, I need to explain the change up...

Y'all know our precious Sweet Girl, our Eula Mae.

Girl Child's buddy. Her confidant. Her playmate.

Her friend that she misses more than words can explain.

(It's a whole other post. Maybe for tomorrow in fact, cause I need some Momma advice.)

Well, things are happening over at our Sweet Girl's house that are turning out to be very difficult to watch.

First, Harley Momma (I'm tellin' ya, I have great neighbors!) and I had to find a home for Miss Daisy the shitzu. That about killed us all from the git-go.

Then, the lady-who-we-all-trusted-with-our-Eula Mae, and her son backed a truck up to the door and proceeded to steal several very large items. We all watched. We thought she was taking them to our Sweet Girl in the nursing home.

Next have been the countless, daily prospective home buyers. I don't know why it's so hard to watch strangers go in and out...but, it is. My protectiveness of Eula Mae is overwhelming. I don't want people looking at her stuff. Touching her things. My littlest Crumb Snatcher is not dealing with it pleasantly. She starts a fight with her brother and acts hideously if she's outside at the time of the showing. I finally figured this out the other day when I witnessed the whole thing from start to finish. My heart hurt for her. I guess she figures if she makes a big enough scene, the people looking will not want to live near her.

Girl Child came in yesterday with a stricken look and that precious chin quivering. Because now there's a trailer parked in the drive-way for the auction house...

It's tough being 40 and watching all this going on. I get it. I don't like it, but I understand it.

Crumb #2 is 9. She doesn't get. She doesn't understand it. She doesn't like it. And she's struggling.

I've been having a long conversation with God about this whole thing.

His answer couldn't have been more perfect.

And here they are...

That's Bugsy with The Belly. And Precious, her finance'.

Why those names?

Since I've only lived next to them for two months I haven't come up with any permanent names yet. The Recluse Artist, Harley Momma, Sweet Girl, The Newlyweds, Hot Head Tom, Crazy Larry and Fruitcake Mary are all appropriate because I've lived with them for a long time! Know what I mean?

So Bugsy is Bugsy because that's her real nickname. I can't call her it. I don't know why. I call her by her beautiful given name. It fits her. She's beautiful. Inside and out.

The beautiful artwork on her chest? It is a tribute to her momma. She died at 36. It's literally a piece of art. She's a trained classical musician. She rides a unicycle. She knows more about cars than Big Shooter. (I know. He has a big crush on her.) She used to make reeds for Yamaha. She paints. And she's about to bless The Neighborhood with June Bug. (Girl Child and I have a big crush on her too. I think Crumb #1 does too. But I think it for reasons this momma doesn't want to contemplate at the present. Thankyouverymuch.)

Precious will roll his eyes when I tell him that's what his name is...for now. I tried a bunch. Tat Boy (he has a bunch you can't see in the pictures). Dreadlock Dude. Bugsy's Boy. Cool Cat. They all work. But none fit. He is, by far, the most thoughtful, hardworking, responsible and loving 21 yo I have met in a loooong time. So what does a over bearing, compulsive momma call that? Why, Precious, of course.

And he is.

And they are.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: It's been a while since you've experienced the Compulsive Nurturer. I must first give you my condolences and second, my gratitude because you are handling it beautifully! Thank you, Love.

A picture says a 1,007 words...

2009-06-08T00:06:00.004-05:00

What's Your Signature Saying?

2009-06-05T00:40:00.001-05:00

Are you known for anything you say often?

Do your family or friends ever give you that knowing glance and say it before you do in that "gottcha" kind of way?

One of my aunts, who lives in Utah, says, "Oh my heck."

My granddad had a very...shall we say, colorful expression he used frequently.

Big Shooter says, "Life is good" quite frequently.

And apparently, I say, "Oh my word" in between every sentence.

In fact, I've been told I have so many different ways of saying this phrase that I have one for every kind of situation.

In response to Girl Child telling me she's finished yet another chapter book in a single evening: (said with the Momma Wow voice), " Oh my worrrd!"

After Boy Child tells me, in agonizingly great detail, the many life-sustaining battles on a video game: (said with as much fake momma wow as I can muster), "Oh...my word."

Tasting some divine culinary treat: (said slowly with a throaty voice), "Oh...my....worrrrd...".

After Saucy Sashi gives me some unbelievable news: (each word is said separately and slowly with my eyebrows up as far as they can go), "Oh. My. Word. "

Screeching at the top of my lungs when seeing a scary jumping bug, "Ohmyword! Ohmyword! OhmyWORD!!"

I'm dying to know if y'all have a signature saying of your own? Please share it with us. What is it? Where'd you first hear it? What does it mean to you and how often do you express it?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I should have said your Signature Saying is, "Zzzzzzzz. snort. Zzzzzzzz."

My newest addiction...

2009-06-04T02:14:00.003-05:00

I think I mentioned a long while ago we were working on a garden?

It's growing.

That in itself is a miracle.

The Crumbs are looking forward to eating the vegetables.

That is another miracle.

We are going to have lots of tomatoes. Lots.

So I am exploring things I can make with them.

Big Shooter and I love brushetta. He makes it for me all year round.

So I decided to try a few little variations to make it more interesting. Y'all already may make it like this. Or it may just be too simple for your tastes.

But, lemme just tell ya...

This one knocks my socks off!

Slice and toast these. Dice these. And these.
Add these. And mix. I almost forgot the best part!

Spread this on hot slices.

Scoop the tomato mixture on and ...

Sprinkle this on top.

Viola!!

I can't seem to get enough of it. I've had it for lunch. And with dinner for the past 5 days. When I get to use fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes...Woo Eeee! Look out Rachel Ray! (Big Shooter has a crush on her by the way.)

Just wanted to share. It was love at first bite.

Finally! A new mistress.

2009-06-03T01:48:00.001-05:00

The search was exhausting.

The search was torment.

The search was arduous.

The search took us from sea to shining sea.

(By sea I mean tears...His wimpering and sniffling got old.)

But FINALLY, he has found the Perfect Girl to replace the tramp that plagued my life for far too long.

I may even partake in a menage trois now and then just to get the job done if need be!

Meet Red Toro. His new love.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I should have known you'd do a bang-up job. She's pretty. She's clean. She's respectable. And best of all her reputation is irrefutable. Congratulations Big Shooter on a fantastic choice.

It might just be a redneck date, if...

2009-06-02T00:13:00.002-05:00

the entire 4 hours is spent perusing the aisles of Wal*Mart together.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Wooo Eeeee!! You sure can show a girl a good time! How'd I get so dang lucky??

Effects of Swine Flu

2009-06-01T00:11:00.005-05:00

Girl Child said, "...so that's really what happens if you get swine flu?"
"Yep," I assured her.
After a pretty long pause and intense study of the picture she decided, "Well I'd better be very careful with germs...that means staying away from boys. Especially dirty ones."
"Yep," I assured her smiling to myself.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You can do two things later - thank me for giving you another reason for Girl Child to avoid dirty boys and to show me why she should avoid dirty boys...winkety, wink.

The Arrogance is unFreakin' believable!

2009-05-29T00:03:00.004-05:00

Sorry people, I can't take it any more.

When President-Elect Obama compared himself to Lincoln - The Great Emancipator, I vowed to zip it and not point out he hadn't done anything yet. Yes. He was taking over the reigns of a country divided and had big plans for healing...however, I felt, he needed to earn that kind of respect.

I told myself not to pass any judgement for the first 100 days. Let him get his feet wet. Let him find some footing.

That was until yesterday.

"I would put these first four months up against any prior administration since FDR," Obama said.

??????????????

That, my friends, is pure unadulterated arrogance...

Let me ask you these questions:

Would Kennedy have greeted and then entertained Castro and Chavez like family?
Would Reagan have shut down our CIA systems around the world in the middle of a War on Terror?
Would Roosevelt excuse all the terrorists of the U.S.S. Cole, Gitmo and the 9/11 masterminds?
Did Clinton make his first call as Mr. President to Mahmoud Abbas, leader of Fatah party in the Palestinian territory or grant his first interview as prez on Al Arabia television?

Those are just a few of the posts that were dying to get typed. Not to mention the fact he recently signed an executive order (he wrote it back in Feb.) of presidential determination allowing hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to settle in the United States at American taxpayers' expense. By executive order, President Barack Obama has ordered the expenditure of $20.3 million in migration assistance to the Palestinians. (Federal Register FR Doc. E9-2488) Did you read that?

It's a done deal. We are now going to pay the way to the American Dream for people who openly hate America. Niiiice.

Today he is with Abbas shaking his finger at Israel.

Unbelievable.

Note to my Big Shooter: I know you wanted me to rant about the D-Day snub, but I couldn't get past the "I am the greatest thing since sliced bread" insinuation. In 44 months will there even be words great enough to describe his administration?

Mooning on I-44

2009-05-27T11:45:00.001-05:00

Have I ever told you about the time I mooned many passersby on Interstate 44?

Albeit unwillingly. But, mooned none the less.

Y'all know I'm really a Farm Girl from Idaho at heart. And Farm Girls have certain skills that most Citifieds wouldn't ever consider skills - until needed, of course. Like, pluckin' a chicken. Knowledge of irrigation. And the ability for quick, but modest, impromptu emptying of bladders out of doors.

Late one evening, before we were married, Big Shooter and I were traveling on a stretch of I-44 that has no rest stops for like a billion miles. Usually it's not a big deal. The problem was I'd drank the equivalent of a keg of ice tea while visiting Aunt Faye and Uncle Woodrow on their homeplace. I was new to Oklahoma and sweet tea. I didn't yet know that tea has a diuretic effect on me. An almost immediate effect.

My well thought out plan was to have Big Shooter pull to the side, turn off his lights, wait until there was a large gap between cars passing us and quickly take care of my business in front of his car where they couldn't see me. I had taken care of business in this manner 100s of times grownin' up. This would be no big deal. Just immediate, glorious relief. It would have worked out beautifully because the cars traveling in the opposite direction were also too far away to see anything either.

Unless the person you love,

the person you are betrothed to,

the one person in the world you trust more than any other...

slowly backs up the vehicle you are using as a privacy shield while you are, um... incapable of moving.

And then does this...

And the people traveling in both directions see this...

Big Shooter, obviously living in the same fantasy land he still visits often, thinks I'll have this reaction...

When, back in the real world, I have this one...

And then this one...

At which this point he realizes his dilemma.

He's afraid to let me back in the car because he's afraid for his life.

So he locks the doors.

Then he realizes that's not such a bright idea either because I simply turned heel and started walking down the road.

Back to Plainsville.

In the middle of the night.

On the side of I-44.

With him following me.

Slowly in the emergency lane.

With his lights shining on me.

Are you getting the picture?

Now he's realizing how this looks. That at any moment a State Trooper is going to pull over to investigate.

And he knows - I will have NO MERCY.

He's, once again, afraid for his life.

Smart boy.

Kinda.

After much begging, pleading, promising and apologizing - I finally got back in his car.

The next morning his car looked similar to this...

I'm kidding of course.

Kinda.

But that will have to wait for another post.

Love Note to my Big Shooter:

Dear Big Shooter,

Thanks for sending me the picture of the mooning ducks. They were adorable as could be. Brought back some fond memories. Made me take a stroll down Memory Lane. I love it when you send me emails in the middle of the day with a sweet note. Makes me feel loved and thought about. Feel free to send me more any time. I just file them under Blog Fodder...I mean, Notes from the Love of my Life. Have a fabulous day Sweetness. Can't wait for you to come home.

Lovies,

Straight Shooter

Things you see on the road.

2009-05-26T01:09:00.001-05:00

Have I ever shared with y'all how much I'd love, love, LOVE to homeschool on the road?

Sell the house. Buy a motor home. Be nomads across this beautiful country of ours...I'd teach the little Crumb Snatchers a lesson on a certain place or activity while Big Shooter was driving there.

Talk about a real life education!

I have to say, however, each time we fantasize about it...

this is not quite the car I'd always imagined us driving around to explore in.

Now it is.

However, that was not really what I wanted to show you.
See that truck coming up behind me in the mirror?
Well, he's carrying a real important load.

How do I know?
Easy.
It said so.

That yellow strip right under the doors and above his bumper told us what prized load he was transferring across state lines.

The blurry words say,

"CAUTION - PRIZE CHICKENS"

Crumb Snatcher Speak & a Sashi Saying

2009-05-21T23:32:00.005-05:00

As we passed a hospital that specializes in brain trauma and mental issues, I said, "Mommy used to work at that mental hospital before you were born." Girl Child immediately corrected me with, "Didn't you mean to say lived there...not worked there?"

While eating in a local yocal diner in small-town America (Pawhuska, OK) Girl Child observed just how busy it was during the lunch hour. "I mean, wow Mommy...people really do live in this town."

"I am so not looking forward to my teenage years, " Boy Child solemnly announced yesterday. "Why? What's going to happen during your teenage years that will be so bad?" I asked. "You know, Mom. Braces and pimples...and braces and pimples are just life's way of saying it bites to be old. Like you Mom." Long pause. Then, "No offense Mom."

I was trying to explain the concept of a wedding reception to Boy Child and his fellow 10 yo friend when Boy's light turned on and he proudly reported, "Oh yeah! I know what a wedding reception is Mommy! It's where I'll learn to spin on my back on the dance floor."

My fave of the whole post was uttered so seriously and matter-of-factly by Saucy Sashi to one of her offspring in the van one day, I almost missed it..."If you don't stop chewing on your toenails, you won't get any ice cream."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Wow! I realized as I was typing this post, either you haven't given me your typical blog fodder lately or I haven't been documenting them for posterity's sake (read blog's sake please). I am falling down on the job and haven't even had a good stiff drink to blame it on. I shall be Johnny-on-the-Spot from now on so watch what you say and do Buddy Boy!

2009-05-20T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yesterday's post got me thinking about names and I remembered this fun name game my sweet friend FarOut Mom did a looooong time ago.

You'll love this. (Big Shooter's are red.)

Rock Star Name: (1st Pet's name & current car) ~ PoPo DeVille (Ginger DeVille)
Fly Guy/Girl Name: (1st initial + first 3 letters of your last name) ~ S-Mer
Detective Name: (Fave color & fave animal) ~ Red Dog (Blue Cobra)
Soap Opera Name: (Middle name & city/town born in) ~ Ann Falls (It's really Twin Falls, but that sounds so super silly!) (Robert Rupert)
Star Wars Name: (First 3 letters of last name + first 2 of first name) ~ Merst (Merb-R)
Superhero: ("The" & second fave color & fave drink) ~ The Pink Apple Pucker (with a spritz) (Black Jack DC)
Nascar Name: (1st names of grandfathers') ~ Keith Ole
Stripper Name: (Fave scent/perfume/cologne & fave candy) ~ Black Vette Chocolate(Fierce Jellybean)
Witness Protection Name: (Mom & Dad's middle name) ~ Rae Findley (Helen G.)
Weather Anchor Name: (5th grade teacher's last name & a city which starts with the same letter) ~ Memphis McAdams (Wynnewood Wright)
Spy/Bond Name: (fave season/holiday & fave flower) ~ Summer Lily (Christmas Tulip)
Cartoon Name: (fave fruit & article of present clothing + "ie" or "y") ~ Mango Shorty (Blueberry Bootsie)
Hippy Name: (What you ate for breakfast & fave tree) ~ LoMein Dogwood (Kracker Pine)

That was fun!

My faves were PoPo DeVille and The Pink Apple Pucker. Big Shooter's fave was his stripper name Fierce Jellybean. If you partake in it yourself...leave me your fave creation for yourself.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I think Sledge should meet Kracker Pine. I think they would be soul brothers...

Name game

2009-05-19T01:19:00.002-05:00

I'm a name girl. Always have been.

I love names.

Naming my own children was like running a marathon.

We had the names we'd call them everyday picked out before they were a twinkle in Big Shooter's eyes. It was the middle names that gave us problems. Since I'd taught school, every name that came into contention I had a distinct like or dislike of.

Boy Child was not near as difficult as Girl Child though.

Big Shooter and I could NOT agree.

I thought we'd come to an agreement on the way to the hospital.

So did he.

Until he went with her to the nursery and I listened intently to the anesthesiologist and my O.B. G.'s conversation... then I wanted to change my mind. I loved the anesthesiologist's daughter's name. AND it was my great-granny's maiden name to boot! Ashton. I loved it.

(Of course I loved Cody Ryan, Paxton, Merry and Yancy too.)

She (the OB) and Big Shooter would have nothing to do with it. They were tired of me and my mind changing. So, they filled out the birth certificate with all the names Big Shooter and I had previously agreed on and I signed it.

Girl Child is blessed with four names.

Poor girl. She still can't wrap her mind around it.

What brought all this up?

Well remember my sweet, new, alternative-livin', heavily tattooed and very young neighbors? Did I mention they were 7 1/2 prego?

With Juniper.

I love that name.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for stepping in. You knew who they both were the moment you laid eyes on them. Me, on the other hand, was irrational with extremely high raging prego hormones and couldn't think clearly. You saved the day as usual. Sigh. I love you.

"Dallas or Bust!"

2009-05-15T00:04:00.001-05:00

That's what we painted on the Gas Hog's windows.

Dallas is our End of the Year Field Trip destination to see the one and only -

Olliver, the brain dead pug, has a weekend of play dates planned. The grass has been watered sufficiently for the past 21 days in a row. And Sledge is itching to hit the road.

So off we go into the wild blue yonder!

May God have mercy on our many travel companions' souls.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You have ONE LAST HURRAH before we return to Plainsville and BUY A LAWNMOWER...or I am taking my bloggy friends' advice and either picking out a new girl for you OR hiring a shiny, new, powerful, well-built Bad Boy to mow the grass. You know how I {heart} Bad Boys...

Once Upon a Time

2009-05-14T01:58:00.000-05:00

There was a man who loved his new yard...But nothing compared to the love he had for his lawn mower.
He was exceptionally proud of his love affair.
He met her in a friend's garage. It was a meeting filled with hot anticipation and lusty secrecy.
He proudly brought her home. Only to find his wife very unaccepting of this dirty, dirty girl.
His testosterone ran high as he defended her honor and questionable class to his un-understanding wife.
He could not begin to comprehend why his thoughtless spouse could call her such hurtful names.
Ugly. Dirty. Used up. Unusable. And the worst, cheap.
On the inside, he knew these things to be true.
But, on the outside he fought for her a place in the palace garage.
His wife agreed.
With conditions.
He readily agreed to them.

Wife would never, under any circumstances, have to touch the dirty, piece of trash.
He would only bring her out from the back recess of the garage in the late evening hours when the light was fading and the neighbors had most likely retired to the AC of their homes.
When she died, she would quickly be replaced by one with a...clean reputation.

For 14 years he abode by the conditions. Never once did he ask the wife to intermingle with the help. Not once did he bring her out into the light.

And then she died.

And the man has been heartbroken ever since.
His spirit is gone.
His lawn is in dire straights.
His pent up frustrations of the last 14 years are shining through.
He cannot/will not/refuses to honor the last condition.
His wife is tired of staring at this...

She has given him sufficient time to mourn the passing of his slutty mistress.

He, apparently, feels he needs more time.

The wife has heard from all the neighbors. They wonder what has happened to The Pride the man once had. She is too ashamed to tell them the truth.

She has asked politely, reminded gently, then whined and bitched.

She even asked to go look at replacements on the saint of all days, Mother's Day, knowing he could not refuse.

"O, Darling Husband, that I love with all my heart, please accompany me to Lowe's, Home Depot, Sears, and the nearest farmer's Co-Op to look for a respectable replacement for your dead girlfriend."

It may have been in the way she asked, but he actually thought of refusing her on the Saint of All Days...

Eventually he agreed. But each one had something "not right" about it.

Too small.Too much power.Just too much everything.

The wife was disappointed to say the least. Their yard will look like this very soon. She is out of sadistic, bribing, guilt-inducing ideas. She is begging/seeking/ your help.

Her desire is to have this man living in her home again.One who loves his yard.
And yes, his mower too.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I'll only give in and tell them the pics I've been posting are not really pictures of your yard...after you replace that sleazy tramp. Not a second before. Get over her already!

Welcome to the Hood

2009-05-12T23:56:00.005-05:00

I so wanted to have this introduction to my "charming neighborhood" all thought out and planned in order of the houses.

And typical of my charming neighborhood...it ain't gonna work out like that.

Today you get to meet the Recluse Artist. By meet I don't mean get to see and make his acquaintance. You get to hear about him.

He has lived across the street from the Shooters for about 14 years.
He did not talk to us for the first 9. (Don't think I didn't try. Alot.)
He leaves his house every day between 4 and 4:30pm.
He returns with a case of beer.
He has long hippy hair.
He walks with a cane.
He is thoughtful enough to make sure his Pink Floyd is heard by us all. In our houses.
His art is unbelievably fantastic. Fantastically scary. And fantastically creative.
He threatened our other neighbor, a former Vietnam vet, whom I'll call Hot Head for a very real reason, with a hammer one morning. (I guess he'd eaten his Wheaties.)

Things always seem to happen to his house. During the Ice Storm of the Century, the Crumbs and I watched in disbelief as giant tree limb after tree limb crashed down on his roof and car. Someone recently decided to use the side of his house for bottle rocket target practice. And today...

Young Pedro decided to park his "borrowed" ride on Artist's porch.

He was showing off for Girlfriend.

Their date ended in the backseat.

Of a police cruiser.

That'd be Young Pedro getting the cuffs.

Recluse Artist is in the blue shirt.

He's leaning over on his cane so you can't enjoy his long hippy hair.

(Yes. I was just standing out in broad daylight snapping pics with my phone. I figured it wasn't me who should be embarrassed.)

That would be Girlfriend standing beside the car talking/crying/confessing her undying love to Romeo.

I was concerned about what kind of life lesson the whole thing was teaching the Crumbs when Girl Child pointed out to me what a fool young Girlfriend was. When I gave her the Momma raised eyebrow look, she pointed out, "She should be embarrassed. She should re-think her boyfriend choices. She needs to change purses."

????

I looked more closely.

Sure enough, as bold as Dallas, her purse said, "I (heart) Bad Boys"..

Yup.

It couldn't have been a better life lesson today in the hood for the Crumbs.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Oh the fun we have while you are away!

I'm in a dither...

2009-05-12T01:30:00.004-05:00

Lately havin' too many topics to choose from to share has NOT been a problem.

'Member that whole dried up period I just supposedly went through and am now over? Well, I am over it. Mostly. But, I still wonder what to write about each time I sit down.

Tonight, I don't have that dilemma.

You see a while back my most lovely friend Podcastin' Cyndi, whom by the way is known as Hyacinth to the rest of the bloggin' world (Yeah, uh huh. That's right. I am friends with Ree's best friend. Go ahead...touch me. Ssssss. It burned ya, didn't it? Or were you rollin' your eyes because you can't believe I stooped to pullin' out my Pioneer Woman card again?)...any way, my lovely, lovely friend Podcastin' Cyndi suggested I write a series about "the charming neighborhood" I live in. (Stop laughin' family and real life friends...you're risking offending Ree's real life friend.) And tonight would be a good story to introduce the hood to y'all.

I also wanted to share a most delightful little tidbit complete with fabulous and interesting pics about that state (Idaho) I am always writing about (Idaho) and haven't lived there full-time in over 20 years...

The fact I cannot, no matter how much I beg, plead, demand, cajole, whine, barter or any other method you can name...get Big Shooter to purchase a new lawn mower. This is the same guy who steamrolled over his betrothed and only precious-beyond-words daughter in the parking lot to get into the electronics store to purchase a new TV last year. Apparently, mowers just don't do it for him like plasma?

I can't imagine why?

So...

I am going to bed.

I'm not elaborating on my new, young, hip, alternative-living, abundantly tatted and pierced neighbors whom I just returned home from the hospital with a few minutes ago.

I'm not elaborating on the phenomenon very few people (me and Big Shooter included) have witnessed in real life...in Idaho.

And I am not elaborating on the testosterone levels in my house involving a lawn mowing devise.

G'night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Shush. Not a word. You had your Cancer Card. I am allowed one too. Mine just happens to be someone, instead of something!

SS just might be stirring the pot...

2009-05-11T00:09:00.002-05:00

Many times I watch the news and wonder "What is wrong with today's kids? Why don't they accept responsibility for anything? Where's the empathy? How do they justify their actions?"

Here's a great example. I am sure most of you have heard this story...

FINDLAY, Ohio (Associated Press) -- An Ohio teenager says he expects to be suspended from a Christian school for attending a public school prom with his girlfriend.
Officials at Heritage Christian School in Findlay had warned 17-year-old Tyler Frost that he would be suspended and prohibited from attending graduation if he went to the Saturday dance. The fundamentalist Baptist school in northwest Ohio forbids dancing, rock music and hand holding.
Frost says he went to the dance because he wanted to experience the prom and didn't think it was wrong.
School officials say he could complete his final exams separately to receive a diploma.
Frost's stepfather says the rules shouldn't apply outside of school and he may take legal action if Frost is suspended.

I have a very strong opinion about this situation...and I am sure many of you do not share it.

Here's my take: We have a parent who pays tuition to a school that holds their students to a different standard than the public schools. He knows their beliefs. I am assuming he supports them since his kid is a student there. More than likely his son has signed a Code of Conduct (standard fare in private christian schools) that states he (the son) understands their beliefs, supports them, will uphold them on and off campus in his daily life.

He decides he has been neglected his right to experience life outside his family's choice for him. The school stands their ground. He chooses to go against the rules. And then acts like he's the victim because they are going to follow through with their part of the agreement. Does Daddy-O use this opportunity as a very valuable life lesson? No. He chooses to teach his son the rules don't apply to us. We should be able to do what we want, because we want to. He teaches his boy that he doesn't have to take responsibility for his choices or actions. And he feels very justified in his actions because their strict standards and expectations are too much. Doesn't matter that he knew that going in...

He's passing on a lack of respect for authority.

He's passing on a lack of responsibility for ones' actions and choices.

He's passing on the self-indulgence that is rampant in America.

He's encouraging the distasteful habit of placing blame on others to justify oneself.

That's how I see it.

How about you?

And btw, I totally do NOT agree with the schools beliefs of no dancing, rock music and hand holding. But, that was not the point...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: When I read this the first time, it immediately raised my shackles. How dare this school tell this boy what he can and can not do! Then I thought about it and realized how very wrong I was. It embarrasses and humiliates me that my first reaction was the all too common worldly one... Will you still love me in the morning?

Dear Grammie...

2009-05-10T10:49:00.004-05:00

WE LOVE YOU!

Crumb Snatchers have threatened to Revolt

2009-05-08T00:54:00.000-05:00

because I, apparently, haven't "taken the pig flu thing serious enough" and we are still...

I was very tempted to say we'd be out of school for that reason when...

but then again thought better of it. Pigs fly is a little to close to pig flew or flu...

They heard on the news that Dallas schools are closed all week. They wanted to know, "Why? Why?? Why...couldn't they have a cool mom?" Instead of one that makes the...

I explained that this...and this...

was not going to enter our school grounds to infect them in any way. So put on your big boy underwear and big girl panties and DEAL WITH THE OLD MEAN SCHOOL MARM.

That's when Girl Child threatened to do this......or REVOLT.

First, I asked her to spell it.
She did.

Then I asked her if she could tell me the correct meaning.
She did.

Then I offered to give her a free ride to either the Health Department or DHS. Her pick.
She didn't...like my attitude. She told me.

This is what I looked like when I cracked myself up...

Even though we now have confirmed cases of Swine Flu here in Okie-Homa. I cannot convince myself it's serious. Is it the name? Is it the thought? Is it all hype?

Are all the swine feeling this way about now...

What are your deep thoughts on the matter? Do you have the epidemic pig flu of 09 in your neck of the woods? Did you have your flu shot? Do you prefer tangy & sweet BBQ sauce or spicy and bold?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Hey big guy. I have bupkus tonight. That's a rarity. I always have some thing to say to you. So soak up the silence my friend. Soak it on up.

...and then she hung up on me.

2009-05-06T11:24:00.001-05:00

I ordered a little some thing for Big Shooter on April 6th.

It left Sacramento on April 9th to begin it's little journey to him.

It arrived in Minneapolis, Minnesota 4 days later.

It went straight past us on it's way to Dallas on April 17th.

After a brief stay in the Big D it traveled to Northeast OK. (I know this as a fact, cause I was following it the whole time on the cool little tracker thingy.)

After another brief stay (in Northeast OK...where we live), it left on it's way to West Virgina.

It arrived in West Virgina... 4 days later... April 26th.

I called FedEx.

The first person was kind and patient. But, clueless.

The second thoughtfully told me my package had arrived safely in West Virgina.

Duh. The problem is I don't live there...I politely explained.

She was unconcerned. And unapologetic.

I was...not. Unconcerned or too thoughtful.

Now I know it is not their fault. I know accidents happen. I know they are trying their best.

But, I really had had all I could take since my package had left Sacramento 15 days prior. Had traveled from the west coast to the north, past us even further south, and then left us...on it's way to the east coast...

So I told her so.

She didn't appreciate my attitude. She told me so.

I told her I didn't appreciate her nonchalant one either.

She didn't appreciate my tone of voice either. She told me so.

I asked her if she was familiar with the geography of the U.S.?

...that's when she hung up on me.

I have this fantastic new software called Bamboo (from a certain group of fabulous friends) where I can draw on pictures. Which I did to show the route of BS's package. It is fun and funny. But, like yesterday's ignorance problem, I cannot get Blogger to upload the saved pic. So you'll just have to imagine lines drawn from the west coast, to the north, to the south, to the east, back to the south and finally to me in OK on this map...

He got his little surprise on May 1.

I tried to call her.

Just to let her know it arrived safely.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Arrrrgh! Now I know how you feel all the live long day! Dealing with rude, unhelpful people. No wonder you get headaches! Come home to Mamacita...I'll make you forget about the idiots of the world. Wink, wink. ...right after you slay the Blue Dragon so I can share the video...since I am a member of the idiots of the world!

I embrace my illiteracy

2009-05-05T08:15:00.003-05:00

When it comes to computers I have two choices:

Freak out
or...embrace my ignorance.

Usually, unless it's JBF, I embrace the illiteracy and wait for The Savior of My Computer World (a.k.a. Big Shooter, Sledge, Love of my Life, etc.) to rescue me.

Like today.

Today, I would really, really like to post the video of Girl Child and myself being propelled into space. However, my ignorance about getting this DVR thing (or CDr thing, movie thing, what ever thing...see what I mean) copied to my computer so I can upload it to youtube is not happenin' without serious intervention.

Do y'all have things that make your smooth running lives come to a screeching halt like the check writer in the credit card commercial? Something that causes you to count to 10? Or makes you have to remind yourself to breathe?

Mine would be certain computer tasks. And knitting.

And cooking.

And cleaning.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: O, brave and gallant knight, I await thee to slay thy Blue Dragon. Thou will show pleasure and thankfulness in any way thee wishes...

Big Shooter, What were you thinking?!

2009-05-03T21:06:00.005-05:00

Chickening out and sending your Beloved sling shooting into the air with your youngest Crumb Snatcher?

Tsk. Tsk.

1...

2...

Whee...

Yup.

That's Girl Child and myself...

Her: brave, bold and barely tall enough!

Me: not brave and bold...and barely tall enough.

Meet the cross between Sledge and Straight Shooter.

She's one cool chick.

Tomorrow...the video.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: cluck, cluck, cluuuuck. bawk, bawk, bawwwwck!! (not sure which one to type to illustrate a chicken sound ;o) Either way, I had my hands tucked under my pits flapping my wings while I made them!

Dear Big Shooter, Happy Famiversary!

2009-05-01T10:06:00.000-05:00

One year ago today we didn't know how long we'd have you.

Our family's future was on quicksand. And our minds were numb with fear.This year has been filled with extreme ups and downs, but not one day has passed that the three of us have not mentioned how grateful we are to still be a family that is whole and complete.

You are what makes us tick.

You are what makes us laugh.

You are what keeps us together.

You are this family.

Today is our family's Thanksgiving and we have been blessed beyond measure.

We want you to realize how precious and dear to our hearts the time you spend with us is.We love you.

Happy Famiversary Sledge!!

(thought I'd just throw in this picture of our little memorial to remind us of the passing of your kidney and the pesky cancer...the whole reason for Famiversary.)

1 in 1,000

2009-04-28T01:03:00.001-05:00

While walking through Silver Dollar City Girl Child made friends with a unique young man...

Then, during our visit to Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum she (sorta) made the acquaintance of another with the same kind of genes....

Keep in mind her hand is nearly the same size as mine.

Our fave facts gleaned from such an oddly entertaining collection were these three:

First, 1 in 3 have the genetic ability to curl their tongue.

Big Shooter and Girl Child are the 2 or 3 of that equation. In fact, the faces she makes in trying to accomplish this feat are comical.

Second, only 1 in 100 can turn their tongue over.

Girl and I can turn our tongues over one way. Boy Child can turn it both ways...Weirdo.

And last, 1 in 1,000 can fold their tongues back.

That would be our very own Girl Child. She's the 1 in a 1,000.

She can't curl it, but she can fold it! Super Weirdo.

Where are you in the standings?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Sweet Baby Jesus!! What were you thinking?!?

A little preview of tomorrow...

R & R...well kinda.

2009-04-24T08:25:00.001-05:00

Since R&R means rest and relaxation, I think we'll call ours DDT, WO & HTOL (Dead Dog Tired, Worn Out & Having the Time of Our Lives!)

We're in Branson again. Spending some much needed family time together.

Big Shooter joins us today. Can't wait.

Following is a typical exchange between the Crumbs.

1. I ask for a nice pose... she obliges, like the Good Child she is. He...

...doesn't.

2. This tickles him pink!

3. She clobbers him and makes other threatening gestures and comments.

4. He finally gives in......but, she has to keep her eye on him.

5. Then she gets her revenge by volunteering them to pose with the purtiest girl in the Ozarks...he won't stand next to her or will barely take his eyes off her long enough to get the shot. He does NOT trust the Purtiest Girl as far as he can throw him, sorry, I meant her.

Have a great day.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: We'll be holding a place for you in line! Can't wait to hug you. We've prayed for an angel for each bumper, please don't give them an any excitement.

Wow!!

2009-04-23T00:59:00.002-05:00

The Crumbs and I counted down the days...

it was SO WORTH IT!!

When Daddy-O asked what they'd learned.

He was bombarded for the next 20 minutes with fact after fact.

If you are looking for some spectacular photography, entertaining educational material and being mesmerized by our gorgeous planet - then go see it soon.

And Happy Earth Day.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know, I know, you're holding your breath in anticipation for some words on the whole Chavez, Castro, water boarding, basically stellar first few months...but, I'm just not up to it yet Love. Maybe you can persuade me. Bribe me. Encourage me greatly. hint, hint.

You might be a redneck if...

2009-04-22T00:04:00.002-05:00

y0ur keyb0ard has been missing the "0" for s0me time s0 you just make d0 with the klassy l00k 0f a zer0 in its place.

OR

bb guns are involved in Easter egg huntin'.

I, a proud city-slicker, do not partake in either of these activities. My other spouse Saucy Sashi, however, is a proud partaker of these things...

In fact, the Fourth of July at her house is synonymous with "fire power", not fireworks.

Any one else have klassy friends like mine that make life worth livin'?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know a sure-fire, fool-proof way to end the grumpy, dry spell...when's Sledge comin' for a visit?

Don’t even know where to start…

2009-04-20T22:33:00.002-05:00

So I’ll just start typing and see what comes of it.

Ever stopped, cold turkey, something that border lined addiction? (Like, say… blogging?)
Did you go thru withdrawls? (Like the kind associated with blogging.)
What did you do? (You know for the finger curling? And mind-numbing, overabundance of time?)
How long did they last? (When I finally realized the familiar statement, “I’m gonna so blog about that,” didn’t have quite the punch/threat/reaction I so relished…I finally began to accept my self exile.)
I am not even sure what brought the whole thing on.
I just know it's pretty much run it's course now.

Regarding Big Shooter moving back in...y'all know our Deal right?
Anyone can walk away from the marriage at any moment...as long as they take the bad car and the Spawn.
Neither one was too overly appealing so he put on his big boy jock strap and dealt with it! He even told me "Thank you for loaning me my testicles for a few days to help me over the hump."

Just kidding people...about him moving in and out. Not about the testicle loaning.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for being supportive of me while I went thru this grumpy dry spell. Your patience are astounding...you should really have your head examined.

(gulp) I am coming up for air in a day or two...

2009-04-15T00:01:00.004-05:00

Hello Bloggydom!
I let Big Shooter move back in, so the Shooter household seems to be getting back to normal. Okay, normal enough...
I'm planning on jumping back into the mix in a coupla days or so.

I've missed y'all!

Can't wait to hear what you've been up to...

Nicknames, Alternative Handles or "Hey, you!"

2009-03-24T00:47:00.000-05:00

My dear bloggy friend, Somebody Loved, asked yesterday if I called Big Shooter anything besides Sledge...

Now those of you who know me personally I politely ask you to stop snickering, cause this is supposedly a family friendly(ish) kinda blog and I'm not sharing all the nicknames Big Shooter gets called...often.

Sheila's question really got me thinking about names we are affectionately called or call others. Every time I talked to one of the Crumbs today, I thought about what I called them. I am definitely a nicknamer.

When I taught 3rd graders, I rarely called them by their names. I always called them Sweetie, Honey, Darlin', Love Child (I know, that last one is borderline weird.). Every new class took a little adjusting, then they all got used to it and didn't ask why anymore. I didn't have an answer anyway. I just did it. I still do. Everyone in my life has a nickname of some sort. They may not know it. But I do...and more than likely so do the Crumbs and Big Shooter.

Big Shooter's real life name starts with a B, so when we first dated that's all I called him. B. Now, once his fam got used to my personality and my name starts with S...you get the picture. Together, we are a bunch of BS...I know, it's corny. But, it sure is true corniness.

I really just call him Love. Or Darlin'. Or Love Monkey. Or Hunka Burnin' Love. Or Bubba. Or Dork. But mostly, Love. Sometimes I add Muffin at the end. How's that for feminine Sheila? Are any of those helping Tony feel better about Lovebug?

Now the Crumbs? They don't really know their real given names.
Boy Child gets called - Boy, Pants, Brother, First Child, Boy Child, Sweetheart, Little Love, Darlin', Bubba Boy, Sweet Boy, Sweetheart, and Doofus.
Girl Child gets called - Girl, Skirt, Sister, Sissy, MBR (her initials), Sweetness, Sugar, Love Child, Princess, Baby Cakes, Sweetie, Honey Bunch, Darlin', and Dorkus.

Even Olliver doesn't really know his name. He gets called - My Baby, Babykins, The Good Child, The Dumb Dog, The Damn Dog, The Bestest Dog, Frog Man, Salty Dog, Scrawny Legs, Dead Weight and of course, Brain Dead.

What do you call your fam, friends, loved ones...enemies?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: B, Bubba, Sledge, Love, Darlin', Sweetie-Pie-Honey-Bunch, Love of my Life, Dorkfest. Of all of them, my favorite is Survivor. Before you get all swarmy and gooey warm on the inside, I don't mean cancer survivor, I mean a survivor of me....heh, heh.

Big Shooter's Fan Club

2009-03-23T01:15:00.001-05:00

Here's my manly husband.

...in his wig.

Y'all know I lovingly call this character, Sledge.

Now, I unabashedly love Sledge.

Alot.

He's not at all like the boy I married.

I must have a hidden thing for rockers.

Trouble makers.

Law breakers perhaps.

Bad boys.

But it seems I am not the only one.

Here's how I know. Big Shooter sent in a couple pictures to the place he bought the wig from because they knew he was using it for Halloween and asked to see how he turned out.

He obliged.

And then the first few emails arrived from the owner of the wig business.

He explained he'd begun receiving inquiries about the hot rocker dude and thought it'd be fun for Big Shooter to know.

Here's the latest email:

From: WFP

To: Big Shooter

Sent: Fri Mar 13 11:56:14 2009

Subject: inquiries

Hi Big Shooter,

Just wanted to update you on your picture on our site, We still have a lot of women who email us to ask us who the handsome guy is. One lady wrote to ask if you were available, I told her that you are not...lol I do not and will not give them any information, but just thought that I would let you know that you have a fan club out there, Take care and thank you so much for your pictures. Say hello to your wife who helped set you up for the photos.

Al (WFP)

Now, Big Shooter would be flattered and more than likely get a big head like any other red-blooded man IF he hadn't already seen the majority of clientele photos for this particular business...

The following are just 6 reasons he's not all that flattered by Al's latest email.

(1)

(2)

(3)

(4)

(5)

And my personal favorite...

(6)

Wig wearer.

Rocker Dude.

Fan Club.

Transvestites.

Husband.

Nope.

Sledge is not anything like the boy I married.

That combination of words would have caused that boy to change his pants.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love you Sledge. Alot.

Ahhh....Spring Break

2009-03-16T10:28:00.002-05:00

See y'all next week!!

I'll be back next Sunday the 22nd...

with a tale about Big Shooter and his internet transvestite fan club.

Not kidding.

It makes me giggle every time I think of it...

"It smells a little like poo in here..."

2009-03-12T00:03:00.006-05:00

"...or chicken...," Big Shooter quickly tried to backtrack when he entered the house and then realized I was cooking.

Too late.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: How was that yummy, plain noodle bowl for dinner Big Guy? The kids and I loved our chicken alfredo...

(Big sigh...) Back to Momma Fluff a.k.a. Crumb Snatcher Speak

2009-03-11T10:16:00.005-05:00

After the past few posts, you may be happy to know I am back on the xanax and wine coolers. Which translates to, "I am back to normal. It should be plain ole bore-ing momma bloggin' for a while y'all."

Girl Child Speak:

After hearing all the ins and outs (pun not intended) of the slim odds of sperm and egg actually meeting, Girl Child shouted, "It's like The Price is Right!!! You, (pointing her finger and speaking in a deep voice) Lucky Woman are the lucky winner of a baaaaaby! This prize includes diapers, spit up, poop and looooove."

After watching a toy being tossed to her brother hit him in the chest she giggled with glee, "Ooow, that hit you in the breasts!" Noticing the look on her brother's face I corrected her, "Scooby (nickname), boys don't have breasts." "YEAH!", exclaimed her big brother. She didn't even pause. "Oooow, that hit you in the lumps then..."

Boy Child Speak:

Daddy-O glanced at the TV as he passed by. While backing up, he inquired about who was riding an animal on the previous shot. Boy Child informed him, "It wasn't a kid or a parent. It was another kind of human. It was a grandma."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am so grateful to know when Momma's not around, the Crumbs are still in capable hands. Thank you for putting on the doctor, nurturer, taxi, chef, teacher and chief bottle washer hats for me yesterday, Love.

Another Pot Stirrer...Seriously???

2009-03-09T14:41:00.001-05:00

I know I promised yet another Pot Stirrer today.

This one starring the new resident at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

I'm gonna deliver it. For both sides sakes.

Just not in a snarky kinda way. For both sides sakes.

Cause here's why ~ We are tired. We are dirty. (well at least I still feel dirty...) We are pooped. (too pooped to think hard about anything like a witty blog) Yesterday we began our family's science project for the rest of the school year and through the summer. And I'll tell you more about it soon.

So since I cannot think of any way to tell this story in a humorous or a fair non-biased way, I am just going to give you the basic facts and you can draw your own conclusions. Non-Humorous. Speechless. Non-biased. Whatever.

The United States of America's greatest ally, Great Britain, sent their man, Prime Minister Brown across the pond for a first one on one meeting and to solidify our country's friendship with our new POTUS.

Mr. Brown (who is nearly blind, you'll know why I mention this a little later) thought long and hard about what he was going to bring as gifts to the New Leader of the Free World.

These were the results:

Mr. Brown had a custom desk set made....From the wood of a former slave ship that had been captured and turned over for His Majesty's fleet christened the President. Later the President was re-named the Gannett and was assigned a sister ship. The Resolute.
A framed certificate concerning the Resolute. The same ship whose wood was used to make the desk in the oval office. The one the new POTUS has made many admiring comments about.
A first edition set of a 7 volume biography on Winston Churchill. Who inherited a country on the brink of disaster. Who stood his ground. Who took the reigns and saved his beloved country. (Just an out of the blue guess, I'm thinking the similarities here were not by coincidence...?)

Wow! Those are some very thoughtful, researched, generous and well-planned gifts! Let me re-cap in different words:

The People of Great Britain, sent through their Prime Minister, a custom made desk set made from the wood of a former slave ship once called the President and sister to the Resolute. A beautifully framed certification of a much publicly admired historic piece of Oval Office furniture made from the Resolute. And a rare set of books for a self proclaimed prolific reader of great literature about a man who walked in the shoes now being worn by our President.

Now you ask, what did the wealthiest, most influential, most benevolent country in the world offer, through their POTUS, as a sign of their gratitude and appreciation?

Prepare yourself for the thoughtfulness...

Prepare yourself for the forethought...

Prepare yourself for the diplomacy...

Why a 25 DVD set of American Film Classics.

Yes. Let it sink in.

No. I am not joking.

Just typing it makes me sick to my stomach all over again.

Now, I know I waved the red flag the other day in the comment section. Taunted and was aiming for a fight. But that was before I engaged in the wallowing for which I had to apologize. I don't want to do that again. Wallow. Or in turn have to apologize for my behavior.

So here's the deal. I know what most of my readers are going to say. It'll be either "(gasp) Obama can do no wrong! He's the One. He's going to turn this country around!" or "(sigh) Obama is a moron. An amateur leading us into God knows what." And frankly, I don't want to hear either side of it today.

Both sides listen up.

That was a colossal public snub. No denying it. No getting around it. In fact Prime Minister Brown refused to answer the questions about the gift. He tried desperately to protect our integrity. (Ironically, it was the zealous Obama loving media thinking the gift was so incredibly fantastic and Obama being so humble and unassuming that fueled the fire to dig until it was uncovered. Then it was buried as fast and deep as they could get it.) The damage is done. And for those of you who are in denial, please go google some English papers or European. Read for yourself what they say about the shaft and their rapidly waning opinions and hope for a renewed America. We have a tendency to lean towards the egocentric here in the U.S. If it's not on the news, in the papers or shouted from the rooftops it's level of importance is not taken serious. We think it doesn't apply to us. And I can assure you of the importance of other countries' perception of America. Right now, a few things are going on but the Obamania hasn't worn down enough for many Americans to hear the international outrage.

I don't mean just from a silly gift-exchange people. I am talking about leader after leader from foreign countries having something less than pleasant to say about our new administration. It is frightening to me how fast the world view is changing. Is no one listening? Has no one been able to lift their head up yet from the Inauguration Drunkfest? The world is watching people. And our media is protecting us from their very disgruntled views. We were caught off guard before...do we have to do it again?

Obama Lovers, I certainly hope you can look past the defensiveness and see that he is human and along with all the changes many wanted he is also making mistakes of huge international magnitudes as well.

Obama Haters, zip your lips and get on your knees. The world is watching his actions. He needs our prayers not our pity and wrath right this minute. It's going to be a long road. 1,411 days long to be exact...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know you were looking forward to a typical Straight Shooter post where I shoot my mouth off half cocked and then attack, ridicule and belittle the few who dare speak up and disagree...but I'm still tired and grumpy so I thought I'd just give it to them straight. Not loaded with insidious or provoking comments. Well not too provoking. But, my love, rest assured in my foul mood if I do get red flags waving...I won't disappoint. But please don't leave me an anonymous one just to wind me up and watch me go. Please. I have a headache. Seriously.

Friendly reminder from Mrs. Pig-Head

2009-03-07T10:27:00.004-06:00

Set your clocks forward tonight...

If you're wondering what this is all about, read yesterday's post...and comments.

Nothing like abortion to stir things up...

2009-03-06T00:04:00.001-06:00

How long has it been since the pot got good and stirred up?

A while? Oh...just yesterday?

Good let's do it some more...

Abortion.

It's murder.

I'm against it.

And this is what I am going to take part in.

Red Envelopes Represent Abortion Deaths

What began as one box of red envelopes has become somewhat of a cultural phenomenon.
Christ Otto has been involved in the pro-life movement for nearly 20 years. As the pro-abortion Barack Obama took office, Otto was rightly concerned and began praying about the situation.
“I believe God gave me an interesting idea,” he says.
Enter the box of red envelopes.
Otto, 37, wants Obama to receive hundreds, thousands, millions, of empty red envelopes, symbolizing the tremendous loss of abortion.
“I wish we could send 50 million red envelopes, one for every child who died before having a chance to live,” he says. “Maybe it will change the heart of the president.”
Otto says it’s a small act that could make a big statement.
“People are not going to get into an argument,” he says. “They’re not going to stand in front of an abortion clinic. But they are going to buy an envelope and cast this vote for life.”
The plan is simple: On March 31, mail an empty red envelope to:
President Barack Obama The White House1600 Pennsylvania Ave. N.W.Washington, D.C. 20500
On the outside of the envelope, write:
“This envelope represents one child who died in abortion. It is empty because that life was unable to offer anything to the world. Responsibility begins with conception.”

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Witnessing you turn from a young adult without a clear opinion on The Right To Choose to a middle-aged man whose eyes, heart and mind have been transformed into a father of four (two here, two waiting for us in Heaven) with a definite opinion, has been quite a journey to witness.

New Orleans...worth the effort or a wasteland?

2009-03-04T00:01:00.003-06:00

Yep. I know. I just ruffled some feathers by askin' that.
But please. I am so tired of hearing the whining that goes on within, around and about New Orleans.
I want to scream from the rooftops, "What about the other hundreds of thousands of families up and down the coast whose lives were devastated and completely destroyed by Katrina? Whom had to start from scratch. Whom you don't hear complainin', or in essence, beggin'. Whom chose to help each other, support each other and encourage each other while they're rebuilding. Instead of robbing and killing each other! And what about the families north of us who faced even worse flooding last fall? Do they require Marshall law or the National Guard for protection? Or just for help?"
What brought this little tirade on you ask? This article I read last week:

NEW ORLEANS (Associated Press) -- Three and a half years after Hurricane Katrina, the National Guard is pulling the last of its troops out of New Orleans this weekend, leaving behind a city still desperate and dangerous. Residents long distrustful of the city's police force are worried they will have to fend for themselves.
"I don't know if crime will go up after these guys leave. But I know a lot more of us will be packing our own pieces now to make sure we're protected," said Calvin Stewart, owner of a restaurant and store.
New Orleans Police Superintendent Warren Riley said his rebuilt police department is up to the job of protecting the city. "I think we're ready to handle things," he said.
The National Guardsmen were welcomed as liberators when they arrived in force in a big convoy more than four days after Katrina struck New Orleans in August 2005 and plunged the city into anarchy. The force was eventually 15,000 strong.
The last of the troops were removed in January 2006 as civil authority returned, but then, after a surge in bloodshed, 360 were sent back in beginning in mid-2006 to help police keep order. As of February, only about 100 troops were left in the city.
With Louisiana facing a $341 million budget deficit, state lawmakers were reluctant to keep the Guard in place any longer.
The Guard was used to patrol the less populated sections of the city where Katrina's floodwaters left most houses uninhabitable. That included the woeful Ninth Ward, where renovated houses are outnumbered by moldy, boarded-up wrecks and weed-choked vacant lots.

In their camouflage uniforms and Humvees, the troops were often a welcome sight.
"We don't have enough cops. It's not that they're bad, it's just that there's not enough of them. These guys are Johnny-on-the-spot when you need them," said 57-year-old Tom Hightower, who is still trying to get the mold out of his house. He added: "This is still a spooky place after dark."
"One of the biggest things we did was keep those places safe so people could rebuild," said Sgt. Wayne Lewis, a New Orleans native who has been patrolling the streets since January 2007. "People would put the things to rebuild in their houses and thieves would come along and take them right out again. We stopped a lot of that."
New Orleans had 210 murders in 2007, making it the murder capital of America, with the highest per-capita rate in the country. That number dropped to 179 in 2008.
Nevertheless, "crime continues to be this community's No. 1 concern. Even with the lower numbers it is still unacceptably high," said Rafael Goyeneche, executive director of the Metropolitan Crime Commission.

Now I know I certainly shouldn't believe everything I hear in the media or I'd think the majority of San Fransisco was gay, Seattle was filled with unreasonable, grungy, coffee-drinkin' tree huggers, Chicago...oops, make that Illinois, was being governed exclusively by crooked politicians, New York City was swarming with sex depraved single women, Florida's official state language was Spanish, or Texas & Oklahoma were filled with empty-headed, ill-informed, redneck cowboys. So possibly New Orleans isn't as bad as they make it seem after three and a half years...?

Three and a half years and they're still in complete disarray? C'mon people!

I am fed up with hand outs and helpin' others who don't help themselves.

People outside New Orleans who still need help? Oh yeah. I'm into those kinda hand outs. People helping people help people. Read it again. It makes sense. People helping people help people.

One Life Changing Word

2009-03-03T22:10:00.002-06:00

Unconditional. Cancer. Yes. Salvation. Positive. Miscarriage. Boy. Girl.

Just a few of the words that have irrevocably altered my life in fantastic ways and crushing ways.

How about you? What one word changed your life forever...?

Big Shooter's List: Baby. Marriage. Malignant. Survivor. Blackberry.

Which would you rather?

2009-03-02T23:36:00.002-06:00

Know boundless love from a beautiful man?

Know beautiful love from a bound man?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: So glad I don't have to choose, you are my beautiful, bound man...Rrrr.

Happy Birthday

2009-03-01T23:05:00.008-06:00

to you.

Happy Birthday

to you.

Happy

Birthday

Sweet

Precious

Dear Daughter...

Happy

Birthday

to you.

We love you with all our hearts Bitty Boo.

You are our Sunshine on a cloudy day.

You are sugar to our souls.

Love you.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: 9 years ago you gave me my most treasured surprise. Thank you. I cannot imagine life without My Girl.

The Etymology Evolution

2009-02-27T00:26:00.000-06:00

No wonder the lifeguard did a double take when I suggested this to Girl Child, "Honey, I think Mommy should go buy thongs for you and me before we come back to the pool."

Thongs just aren't what they used to be...

Neither is the word "enhanced"...

What other words can we come up with that have experienced an etymology evolution?

How 'bout byte, or reality, or google, or bad?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I was trying to come up with an evolved etymologyish word to describe you...and all I could muster was surreal.

What's another name for Who-ha and/or the Nether Reigns?

2009-02-25T18:50:00.007-06:00

Note to Male Readers, my Dad and Sashi: The following info will most likely get too personal and graphic for your sensibilities. Trust me: Stop reading now. If you don't...all I can say is, "I told you so."

I ask the question in the title because Girl Child, the one who has always referred to her who-ha by it formal, scientific name, was completely embarrassed and appalled when I said, "pelvis" today in the swimming pool.
"Mommmmmy! Don't say that so loud!!"
At first I was confused. Then the origin of her confusion dawned on me. Or so I thought.
"Oh honey it's okay, I said pel-vis, not pe-nis."
"I know. Pe-nis is okay. But don't say that other word so loud...or at all. Please?" she begged while looking around mortified to see who had heard me utter such a vulgar word in public.

Pelvis.
I can see the look on her face right now. She'll probably still be mortified at 80 when someone says it's time for their yearly pelvis exam.

There are just certain words in every person's life that can light their face up like a cherry no matter their age.

I can't personally think of any right now for myself...but, when I was younger? Oh yes. There were plenty. Any of the names my spawn now use for certain body parts would have sent me into hiding for a year. Any thing that had to do with that pesky monthly visitor, Mrs. Flow, would have me quivering in the corner as well.

I am trying to keep this in mind as the Crumb Snatchers are obviously reaching an age where certain familiar or everyday terms are becoming landmines. I don't want to embarrass them on purpose (well, that's a big, fat lie right there), so I am seeking advice from others on what is, was or will most likely be some touchy words, subjects, topics in the very near future from your own personal experiences.

Do you remember yours? How did you successfully navigate them or with your kiddos?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know all the great little tidbits my sweet readers are going to leave are going to be like candy to you...but, please, please try to restrain yourself. At least until the Crumbs are teens when they'll totally just die.

Things I love about Straight Shooter

2009-02-24T22:18:00.002-06:00

Hey ya'all
It is I, big shooter. Yup the one and only, the man of your dreams, Master of my universe and best friend to myself.

I was trying to leave a comment on one of her posts and as luck would have it she caught me and is forcing me to do a whole freakin post myself. And she said if you don't title it "Things I love about Straight Shooter" she would cut out my last kidney and feed it to BDP.

So here goes

THINGS I LOVE ABOUT STRAIGHT SHOOTER

1. She is the kindest, sweetest, gentlest serial killer I know.
2. She is creative and funny. You should see some of the crap she comes up with.
3. She is an awesome mom to the kids that claim they are mine.
4. She is the Queen of bloggy freekdom and you are her serfs.
5. She has awesome taste in men, which makes me wonder why she married me.
6. She is cute as a June Bug. That is a compliment in okiehoma.
7. She can cook up a storm, and I can show you the pictures to prove it. We may never get the sauce off the ceiling.
8. She lets me win at card games. At least that is what she tells herself.
9. She is the best housekeeper in the world. Yeah i am lying on that one.
10. She is the light of my life, and i can't imagine my world without her.

Well there you have it bloggy freaks. My heartfelt and romantic reasons why I love S.S. I know it brings tears to your eyes. Hey what can I say, I am just a big teddy bear wrapped up as a Rock God.

Big Girl 40th Birthday Sleep Over

2009-02-23T22:43:00.003-06:00

I titled this post so blase' because when we, er...Big Shooter, was looking for party ideas out there in Google Land we could not seem to find what we were looking for.

Of course with this title I'll get the pervs who think they are coming to a porn site for partying fat chicks too... But hey, I'm an equal opportunity helper of others.

I think this post may be a big fat let down for some who have been dying to hear how it went with pictures as the evidence. But I didn't even take my camera out of it's case.

I am feeling the pain today about that little indiscretion too.

What was I thinking?!? Obviously, I wasn't. The only time I remembered it was when we were playing The Plunger game, but when I said the word camera...I was threatened with bodily harm. The scary part for me was - they were dead dog serious about ripping me from limb to limb if I even thought about it. So I didn't and now, of course, wish I would have lived life on the edge and snapped a few...

Here's the only one I took the whole weekend.

I'll take you through the games and guests and everything in the picture should be covered in one way or another...

It began with a name tag with 3 different lines. On the first was their christened name. On the second they wrote where they knew me from. (A couple used this to their full advantage since so few knew each other. One put rehab and another put AA.) The third line asked for a name of a childhood pet and either their momma's maiden name or a street from their childhood. (Ex: mine was PoPo Brown. Sashi's was Snowball 169.) These, as was later revealed, were their Adult Entertainer names... We had a tie. There was a dance-off and the author of yesterday's post the virtuous, the responsible Podcastin' Cyndi won the prize.

Then came a few games:
Guess Who consisted of me sticking a famous person's name on each woman's back. (Oprah, Cinderella, Mother Teresa, Jezebel, etc.) They could only ask yes/no questions to figure out who they were. The only snafu here was I totally thought Jezebel was like a hootchie, hot momma kinda girl and assigned her name to my friend who very much is a hot momma...only to find out Jezebel is no such girl. Hmmm, maybe I should read that bible, not just use it as a bookend. The game was fun none the less. Those girls were serious about finding out who they were. It turned out to be a fabulous ice breaker.

There was a Momma Purse Scavenger Hunt. The most bizarre item found in a momma's purse was a very nice Cuban cigar in a nice little metal case...hmmm. I am not sure if it's origin, intended purpose or even if it's alternative purposes was fully explained by the end of the evening either.

There was a wine glass passed around full of questions to be answered by both a guest and the birthday girl. That was interesting. That was enlightening. And that was embarrassing...er um, bonding. We learned nicknames of family members and, ahem, body parts. We laughed hysterically at some's stories and answers. We empathized for one who answered the last time she cried had been the day before when it was confirmed indeed she was not pregnant as she so wants to be. We cringed, we snorted, we guffawed and we grinned. It was fabulous girl bonding at it's finest.

As Podcastin' Cyndi pointed out there was a wide range of individuals there. Just the way I love it. There was indeed a pastor's wife, a biker chick, a urban socialite, a factory worker, a Kansas farm girl and a classical educator. But there was also a Martha Stewart type, an incredible artist, a liberal or two, a former news anchor, a doctor's wife, a gym coach, a child counselor and a former nurse. All walks of life. All my dearest friends. I missed so many others this weekend that all I keep thinkin' is..."We'll have to do this again. And soon."

Even though Sledge's pleather pants, spiked jewelry and rock star wig are in the picture he, very sadly, didn't make it to the party. He did, however, make it to the lake later in the weekend. And that's all I'm saying about that.

I liked this last photo because Girl Child's comment when she saw it was, "...it's like you're looking past your birthday Momma...into your future."

Oh the words of wisdom that escape a babe's precious lips...

I am indeed looking forward to my future.

Thank you friends.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: And thank you Big Guy. What fabulous, bonding memories I will cherish for a lifetime. I am so truly blessed with deep, rich friendships.

Love Note to Sledge: RRRrrrr....

Still Partyin'

2009-02-22T22:57:00.005-06:00

Miss Party Pants is still a' partyin, so she had to call in the Voice of Responsibility to guest blog for her.........friends don't let friends go unblogged, I guess. I momentarily seized up about what I should write, but then I started thinking about the motley crew that assembled this weekend, and I couldn't resist writing.

I keep thinking about a schmarmy Hallmark card I saw once about "Friends Who Decorate Your Life", and Stacey's friends, if they were Christmas trees, wouldn't be the perfectly-placed, uniform-themed Macy's sort of Christmas tree. They'd be one of those really-real kind of trees that lights up with the ornaments of a life well-lived: childhood, boutique, and homemade ornaments, somehow perfectly hanging together on one tree

This weekend's cast of characters included a pastor's wife and a biker chick, a Kansas farm girl and an urban socialite, a factory worker and a homeschooling classicist (and other assorted gems). I've never felt more comfortable in my whole life, yet I'd just met most of these women. What was it that made it work, while so many gatherings, even among friends, aren't nearly as easy? In a word: authenticity. Everyone there was just who she was - no pretense, no layers of "stuff" that keep people from seeing each other's souls. And isn't this just who Stacey is? My mother was apparently right..........birds of a feather DO flock together, it seems.

All right, already..........this is why I can't blog............I'm waaayyyy too philosophical. And I don't know how to wrap up a blog post, either! Stacey, it was a great time; I'm happy to be on your crazy tree of friends! Now get back home, Miss Party Pants!

Love,
The Voice of Responsibility

Gone to a Big Girl Sleep Over...

2009-02-20T02:16:00.002-06:00

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks Love. From the looks of things on my end, I believe a grand time is going to be had by all! If I haven't said it lately ~ I appreciate you and all you do for me... I'll show you how much when I return. Wink-a-wink. Grrrrr. Hubba, hubba. BOI-BOI-ING! (those were all my hootchie, hootchie sound effects in case you were wondering...)

(Insert that upside down women symbol thingy here)

2009-02-19T00:03:00.002-06:00

Big Shooter has been planning a Big Girl Sleep-Over at the lake in celebration of my fourth decade. (Y'all know where my tongue is planted with that loaded statement, right? That's correcto-mungo, in my fat cheek.)
So far he's done an awesome job.
He's come up with several things. (I don't want to share them though because many of the guests read this here blog occasionally.)
But, he's a little dubious about what to have available to pass the time.
He wanted me to ask you Girls.
His words were, "Ask the other side for me please. Tell them I need girly. I need racy. I need nerdy. I need funny. I need emotional...and apparently I need ovaries to plan this kind of party."
Instead of agreeing with his last statement, I agreed to ask you all this instead:
"What ideas do you have in mind for a girls night in?"
He says, "Thanks. You're saving my hide...I mean pride."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am not sure whether to laugh or cry at your sincerity of my party planning. On one hand I am crackin' up watchin' you sweat it out. And on the other hand, I am touched at the thoughtfulness. But honestly, I'm mostly crackin' up. If you could see the discomfort, the agony of dealing with all these women, the stress of choosing the correct colors, a menu, the logistics of that many women sleeping under one roof... if you could see it, you'd be on the floor too.
Thank you Big Shooter. I love you.
Love. You.

Let's Line the Streets Fellow Tulsans

2009-02-18T00:02:00.001-06:00

The arrow has found it's mark again for Tulsa.

We lost another soldier.

Army Cpl. Stephen Scott Thompson was killed Saturday.

The service has not yet been announced.

But as soon as it is, I will be yelling from the rooftops.

Encouraging every free American within driving distance to make the effort to line the streets of his last ride.

Putting aside our views, opinions and animosities to show the Thompsons solidarity.

My hope is to line the final route their son will take with fellow Americans standing shoulder to shoulder waving our country's flag in a show of honor and gratitude.

Will you join my family fellow Okies?

Will you send this young man off with the grace, dignity and honor he deserves from us?

I so desperately hope so.

Archie and Friends have Jughead, We have Knothead

2009-02-17T00:03:00.001-06:00

Ugly Comment to Baby Sister + A Good Clobberin'= Big Boo Boo

Just kiddin'.

Boy + Wall = Big Boo Boo

Next day = Tough Guy Look

It actually looks worse each day as time goes on.

But Boy Child has had enough of the picture takin' for now.

Yes, that is a skeleton hanging behind him.

We're those weird homeschoolers.

You never know what you'll find in our humble abode.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks for staying awake past your bedtime to spend a coupla extra hours with me. Wow! Keep this up for a little bit and you'll be able to make it to 10:30!!

Git'r Done, Valentine

2009-02-16T00:03:00.004-06:00

Love was in the air.

Hearts were a flutter.

Eyes were a flame.

...and camo was everywhere.

Larry the Cable Guy took my breath away...

cause I was laughin' so damn hard!

This was Big Shooter's idea of a perfect Redneck Valentine Date.

I never knew just how redneck I was until I realized how much I can relate to Larry...Now that's some sad state of affairs my friends. Sad.

Thank you for the grand time on the town Love. I especially loved the part of the evening we realized we did not in fact have sweet suite tickets... Wasn't that nice of those people to share several adult beverages, wings, and more adult beverages with complete strangers? Dating you is never boring.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Before anyone asks for clarification I think we should give it to them now don't you Love? So yep, we mistakenly walked right into the #12 suite, instead of the #12 section. Yep, we just acted like we were suppose to be there (because we thought we were). Yep, we drank their booze, ate their food and laughed our butts off with complete strangers. And yep, loved every minute of it! Now that I think about it, that was redneck wasn't it? (sigh...) I love you Bubba.

Click, click, click...

2009-02-13T00:02:00.002-06:00

There were many Okies who wished they could click their heels and be transported elsewhere a few days ago...

This is the screen all Oklahomans dread to see on their TVs.

Cause this is what's coming.

This is what it does.

This is what falls from the sky.

And this is the destruction it delivers.

Those are metal trusses.

Imagine your neighborhood here the day before...

Even though the funnels did not come into Plainsville County, our hearts and prayers go out to our dear neighbors so close by. To witness the physical, emotional and financial devastation these storms cause is heart wrenching.

Please keep them in your thoughts this weekend.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for always looking out for our well being, being so protective and concerned. Even when we're not in immediate danger. Or any danger for that matter. We love you.

Question of the day: What is the most poisonous fish? and What is an eagle's nest called?

A stonefish and an aerie

More Crumb Snatcher Speak

2009-02-12T00:15:00.001-06:00

Since Girl Child is getting very close to her birthday, she's got birthdays on the brain.
This morning she revealed her latest thoughts on her party ideas.
"Do you know what would be like a nightmare birthday party for me? A princess party.
And do you know what would be like a dream come true party? A redneck party."
When I sat speechless, she explained, " You know like Rooster (Sashi's youngest) had? Where we dug in the dirt pile, dressed like cowboys and had relays to the saddles, played in the pasture and old barn..."
Greeeeat. I will never live up to you Sashi. You perfect Redneck Momma you.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Okay, okay. I finally agree. We do need a paternity test...

Fact of the Day: February is National Grapefruit month. Who thinks this stuff up? Fresh grapefruit in February?

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

2009-02-11T00:08:00.002-06:00

* The other night I lost my wallet in a public place. When I realized it. I stayed calm (tongue firmly planted in cheek.) We returned to the aforementioned place and Boy Child ran in to see if it was there while I searched the car... again. He came running out with it waving high over his head. When he jumped in the car I yelled, "Woo Hoo! Thank God!" Boy Child looked at me with shock and indignantly asked, "What am I?! ...chopped cheese??"

* Very late last night during my drive back from a big JBF planning day, Boy Child called. He was whispering. I realized several things at once. He was scared. He was the only one awake in the house. And I could not offer him any real comfort 100 miles away. I knew I'd never convince him to walk through the dark house clear to the back of the house and snuggle up to Daddy-O. So I suggested the next best thing - his big, bad, baby sister. Whom, by the way, had not been feeling well for most of the day. "Sweetie, how about if you slip in and sleep next to Girl Child until I get home?" "I can't Mommy. Her white cells will be fighting." Confused I clarified, "Did you say white cells?" "Yes. She's sick. Her cells'll be fighting her sickness all night long."
Well of course, silly Mommy. How'd I let that little fact slip my mind???

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for playing Good Cop/Bad Cop with me for the Crumbs much needed benefit Darlin'. I so hope and pray they don't need too much therapy when they are adults...if they make it that long. And totally changing the subject, I vote we purchase a Cop Costume for personal practice. Are you game?

Fact of the Day: Let there be light! Today 162 years ago Thomas Edison was born. He held more than 1,000 patents for all his inventions. There are 25+ smaller words that can be made with this one: INVENTOR. How many can you come up with?

Double Whammy

2009-02-10T00:02:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I shared my father and his wife's very sad news...
Today, it is our own family's sad news.
And by family I mean all my neighbors.

Our sweet, sweet girl Eula Mae has been moved to a nursing facility.

Her best friend, Girl Child, is having a very hard time. She is missing her visits. She is missing their special secrets. She is missing their "plain ole everydayness".
She is missing her friend.
Maaan...I hate these kinds of Life Lessons.
I wanna play hooky from being the teacher during these times...

Please pray for our friend. As of now, she does not yet know she has spent her last nights in the home she has lived in for the past 60+ years... I believe when she realizes it, she will head down hill like a loose ball. Unable to be caught.
Getting older bites.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Sorry for all the doom and gloom. Even though aging does not thrill me in the slightest, I sure am glad it is you who will be with me in the end. All wrinkly with glistening eyes. I love that twinkle by the way. Just thought I'd mention that now before Alzheimer's sets in and I forget...

Fact of the Day: What is an apiarist? And what is a glossa?

A beekeeper and another name for an insect's tongue.

Run Like the Dickens Miss Montana!

2009-02-09T00:23:00.007-06:00

Our hearts are sharing the grief today with my Dad and his wife, GrannyM.

They showed the ultimate act of love to their constant and most loving companion yesterday morning by allowing her to cross the Rainbow Bridge with the dignity and grace Miss Montana was so well known for.

Though there is nothing we can do.

Nothing we can say.

We want them to know, "We love you both. We understand. And we are so, so very sorry you had to let her go..."

When we had to endure the pain and grief after our most Precious Girl, Remington crossed The Bridge, I read this poem to myself often.

MY FOREVER PET

There's something missing in my home,

I feel it day and night,

I know it will take time and strength

before things feel quite right.

But just for now, I need to mourn,

My heart -- it needs to mend.

Though some may say, "It's just a pet,

"I know I've lost a friend.

You've brought such laughter to my home,

and richness to my days.

A constant friend through joy or loss

with gentle, loving ways.

Companion, friend, and confidante,

A friend I won't forget.

You'll live forever in my heart,

My sweet, forever pet.

-- Susanne Taylor

I hope it helps in the very smallest of ways.

If not, then gaze at the picture below and imagine what she is doing right now...

You know she is!

She's loving life. Chasing everything that moves and smiling that big, happy grin.

We love you.

I lost my fair and balanced card.

2009-02-06T07:30:00.003-06:00

I, shockingly, get accused of being far, faaaar right. A brain-less, evangelical follower. My most fave assumption/opinion, and of course completely unbiased, accusation is being a most fair and balanced...um, indoctrinated citizen?
I would totally agree with all those educated, unbiased and completely open minded opinions except for one thing ~ apparently my Fair and Balanced card expired.
I haven't turned on the fair and balanced in months.
I didn't ever notice before, during my crazy indoctrination days, how much make-up these people wear.
I didn't recognize any young, roving reporters.
But what did it for me is, "Where the heck is Allen?????"
Seriously.
Someone fill me in.
Please.
Is he gone? Is it really just the Sean Show w/out any checks and balances?
Did he defect to a less fair and balanced show?
Does anyone miss him besides me?
These are the questions that kept me up last night.

Y'all I'm worn out from my 3 minutes of Pleather Time...

2009-02-05T00:03:00.001-06:00

I'll post tomorrow.
(wink. wink.)

Happy Birthday S.S

2009-02-04T00:03:00.000-06:00

To the light of my life on her 40th birthday,

Welcome to the club, sucks to be here but at least we have each other to grow old with. I like to think of it like this. You're not forty; you're eighteen with twenty two years of experience.

We have been together longer in life than we have been apart. And for that I apologize. You probably need a vacation. but I would not trade one day with you. Even when you get mad enough to walk out, I know you will come back for the toothbrush, because good oral hygiene trumps divorce any day.

I love you with all my heart, and my last good kidney. Happy birthday lover.

P.S. Get a babysitter, ITS PLEATHER TIME!!! Best 3 minutes of the year baby!!!!

Yep. I was born 40 years ago today.

2009-02-04T00:00:00.000-06:00

I hadn't really thought it through. The whole turning 40 thing. So when Girl Child asked me what my birthday post was going to be about for the 40th ever-lovin' time, I figured maybe I should put a little thought into it.

It didnt' work.

I came up with nada.

And then in swooped The Good Flea to save the day!

She awarded me this little do hickey:

She says I have to tell you ten "juicy honest things" about myself. So I figure let's name 40, one for each year and then call it a day.
I have a feeling it may get ugly by the end... Just know I loved you all. This will be the last time some of you visit.

If I don't tweeze my chin daily (okay twice, daily) I can grow a perfect foo man chu beard.
Feet gross. me. out. Don't touch me with your toes if you want to keep them. I am serious.
I locked myself in my aunt's bathroom and smoked a pack of my uncle's cigs when I was like 11 or 12. Never had the desire to smoke again.
Although, I LOVE the smell of clove cigarettes.
I am the World's Worst House Keeper. I abhor cleaning. I only do it out of necessity. Bare necessity at that.
I wish I could re-do my wedding day. I would beg Big Shooter to elope.
I lost two babies before Boy Child. My heart still yearns for them over a decade later.
I don't like men. Big Shooter is one of very few I care to be around longer than say 60 seconds. The other two are my dad and Big Shooter's dad. I mean c'mon! Who wouldn't love someone who takes advantage of anyone and everyone who is gullible enough to believe all he says...like how to gut a deer for example.
I am utterly and helplessly frightened of the dark. If I was in a pitch dark room I believe I would keel over from fright. Seriously.
Yet, I loved haunted houses and hay rides growing up. Go figure.
I've been so angry at Big Shooter I have walked out.
Only to return for my toothbrush "that I forgot".
Sometimes I can't live with him!
But I could never live without him more!
Speaking of Big Shooter, sometimes I wonder if he's truly okay with having dated one girl, proposing to one girl, marrying her, and staying with just her. (It's suppose to be honest and juicy here people. I'm being real.)
97% of the time I am thrilled to be Boy & Girl's momma. It's that other 3% that worries me. Shames me. Makes me wonder what the heckfire I was thinking?!
I don't get the whole wanting to have a natural birth thing. When it was discovered I couldn't give birth naturally and ended up having c-sections, I was thrilled. THRILLED people.
Here's where I ran into the lack of memory problem and had to send out an all points emergency bulletin to friends and family both far and near to ask for their help in telling me, reminding me or brushing away a few cobwebs in my memory in order to help me think of things to share in order to get to the magic 4-0. My Granny Grunt reminded me I believed Hook, Line and Sinker the way to tell a newborn animal's sex was by the color of it's eyes. I and my dear cousin would stand at the fence for hours trying to get the new baby calves to look at us in just the right sunlight so we could tell...
When my beloved Gramps died, the same uncle I stole and smoked his cigs came and picked me up from a country saloon at closing time. He never said a word other than, "You're gonna be okay honey," each time he had to pull over to let me hurl. He helped me up the steps of my mother's house. He hugged me each time I burst into tears. I was 37.
When I was with Sashi at a MOPS meeting giving a JBF talk, I fell off the stage. I was carrying a card table in front of me and just stepped off into nothingness. When I came to a stop, it was deathly quiet and Sashi was staring down at me with eyes the size of saucers while the 40+ women in the room didn't move. They were speechless and frozen. She helped me up, grabbed her supplies and ran out the door. I thought she was just in a hurry. Nope. When I got to the van, she had her head stuck as far into the van as she could reach and was SNORTING with laughter. I can't drive by or near that church to this day without her spitting pop out her nose with the memory.
I volunteered to greet and pass out name badges at our Crumbs special presentation day at school their first year. (before homeschooling) It was a muckety muck event with muckety mucks present all morning. Just before curtain time I snuck in to sit with Big Shooter and enjoy our wee ones song and dance. He'd chose to sit in the front row, center. Of course. I had to bend over and do the hunch back walk over to him in full view of everyone. When I got to him I realized I'd have to step over a bench saved for the teachers. I am 5 feet and 1 inch tall and I was wearing a long skirt. I had two choices. Walk back in front of everyone or hike my skirt up a bit. I should have walked back in front of everyone. Then they couldn't have all heard the seam of my skirt rip as I fell over the bench into my loving husband's arms. It did not end there however. I had to help clean up the welcoming area when it was finished. As another new mom and I sat down on a bench outside to wait for our husbands to drive around and pick us up she looked over and said, "Mrs. Shooter, I don't think I've laughed that hard in a while...and your day just keeps getting better by the minute. It looks like you have two different shoes on." I looked down. Sure enough. In my haste to get out of the house I slid on one brown and one black shoe. She said, "If you're always this much entertainment, I think we'll be great friends." We still are after all these years.
The 6 months preceding our wedding I was in Idaho doing wedding things and working while Big Shooter was living in Okie-homa. Once a week I would practice my almost nil culinary skills on my soon to be FIL. His most memorable meal was suppose to be called Chicken Enchiladas. He lovingly refers to it as Pile of Garlic with a dash of Chicken. There are no longer any vampires in the state of Idaho.
The first few months of marriage Big Shooter did not fare any better. One night I cooked Teriyaki Chicken Wings for him. I'd made it many times. He loved them. I grew arrogant in my newly found skills and neglected to follow the basic cooking rule of Don't Drink and Cook. I vaguely remember Big Shooter waking me and asking me what was supposed to be in the oven. We had pungent aroma of Burnt Teriyaki seared into every fabric, upholstery and even the paint for months.
I had brain surgery a few years back...I needed that like I needed a hole in my head.
While looking at my scans my neurologist with that most fabulous bedside manner reported I had an unremarkable brain.
I can't seem to cook bacon without my built-in timer. a.k.a. A smoke alarm
I cannot tolerate any kind of skin trauma. Doesn't seem to matter if it is a paper cut or a ten inch gash. I'll see you again when I wake up.
I worked the steering wheel and gear shift while my younger cousin worked the pedals whenever we stole my gramps old international pickup and tore down the lane. Problem was, he'd have to come rescue us b/c I could never quite conquer reverse on my own. We were 9 and 6.
Did you know you can rip the back bumper off a caddy if you back in to a parking space too far over the cement barrier? Well you can.
Have sadly passed on my irrational bawling, squawling, hissy-fit throwing when I get hurt gene to my very unassuming and innocent Girl Child.
i thoughtfully christened Big Shooter's new truck for him after he'd had it for two weeks. It was in the repair shop for almost two months.
Got my second speeding ticket going to the bank to withdraw $ to pay my first speeding ticket.
Regularly gave swirlies to my Jr. High neighbor Shirley. (Now before you get all righteous on me, she did it willingly. I don't know why? I don't like to dwell on it. She just did.)
Went to minor emergency for a pregnancy test the first time we suspected we might be expecting.
Belly laugh at least once a day. Every day.
Spent my entire honeymoon in a hospital.
Ran hurdles. Did I mention I'm 5'1?
Love, love, love to watch boxing. Share a birthday with Oscar De LaHoya. Mmm. Mmm!
Married the love of my life and had his spawn.
Love my life.

That wasn't so bad. Congrats if you got this far!

I realized as I was typing, some of these would be great posts. If you have any in particular you'd like me or Big Shooter to elaborate on, please let us know in the comments. Who knew this would lead to that most precious commodity to bloggers...blog fodder. Cool.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for taking yet another trip down Memory Lane with me. I always get a renewed appreciation for you when I have to face what you do every day being my soul mate! (Heh. As if I haven't earned my crown and all the jewels in Heaven being your cell, oops soul mate as well!)

Big Shooter sheds Some Light

2009-02-03T00:01:00.002-06:00

...on himself.

Note from Straight Shooter: Y'all, I was very leery of this post. I watched out of the corner of my eye while he answered. There was lots of smilin' goin' on. Lots of chuckles (the diabolical kind) and his fingers tapped tapped at the keyboard so fast I was amazed. In the end, he was true to his personality and cracked at least himself up!

Flea asked: How did BS propose? Did he?

Technically i did propose...but it was a fight to do it on my terms. S.S. is a romantic, i am not. S.S. is aggressive and take charge, me - not so much. But I have my ornery side so I made her wait. She thought it would happen at Christmas, it did not. She thought it would happen on valentines day, again you guessed it bloggy freaks, it did not. I took my own sweet time, and did it only after I knew I had waited as long as I possibly could. Ya see if I had waited any longer she would have moved to Australia. (not joking on that point) But when it did happen, it was totally stupendous. The only thing that detracted from the romance was I forgot to take the toothpick out of my mouth. Ohhh and BTW she said yes. But she had to because unbeknownst to me she already had the date, church, flowers, preacher, and cake arranged. I told you she is a tad aggressive. Now more interesting than the proposal was the honeymoon. But that is a totally different story.

Dawn asked: What is your idea of the perfect date?

Ya'all do know that I am a man right? In spite of popular belief, men do not have perfect anything. I am a fly by the seat of my pants, whatever S.S. thinks is fun I will endure type guy. And I keep my mouth shut when I am not having fun. You see S.S. reads serial killer novels and could dispose of my body in about 1000 ways. So my perfect date consists of waking up the next morning. And beer.

FIL: Would love "Big Shooter to tell us how do you gut a deer?"
I need to take this opportunity to inform all the bloggy freaks that I was severely abused growing up. I have never dealt with this subject openly, but it is about time that the truth comes out. I was the only male child growing up with a mom and two sisters. Alone in the world so to speak. Then God saw fit to give me a father figure. Unfortunately I got a sadistic, evil, maniacal, individual whose sole purpose in life was to wreak havoc with my poor tortured soul. Ya see I was not raised as a hunter, so I looked to my elders to educate me properly in the art of killing innocent animals. FIL took it upon himself to perpetuate the abuse, by publicly asking this question. As a right of passage, young men who kill must also clean the trophy. I have no problem with that. It is only fair, it is the way our ancestors did it. BUT.... our ancestors were never told to clean the kill in the fashion that my sick and twisted father instructed me too. He is so evil!!!! You see I was told that the last step in guttin the poor dead animal that I just blew away in a very heinous way and to keep the meat from getting contaminated by deer dung was to stick my finger up its anus and to cut around my finger. I learned this when I was 14, I did not learn that this was total BS until I was 24.
So FIL I have a finger held up in the air for you, I bet you know which one.

Dear F.ather I.n L.aw also wants to know: "Have you ever shot your sister with a B.B. gun?"

Yeah but she totally deserved it, and I would do it again if I had the chance. It is the only way in which I could deal with knowledge that I had my finger in a deer's anus.

FarOutMom asked just a few questions:

I want to know where he buys his right sexy glasses?

At Studs R Us. I get a discount.

Does he still do that hissing noise when he speaks of one pair of his glasses?

COBRA....pssss pssss.

Where is the wig that he wore in the above picture?

Sitting by my bed ready to be worn during emergency stripper incidents. You never know when a bachelorette party is in need. Now I just need one of those Bat Caves with the cool poles you slide down. You know the kind when you get to the bottom you miraculously are transformed into your super-alter ego. Just call me ROCK-MAN!!!!!

Does he wear it to work? Or anywhere? And try to pass it off as his own?

No need to pass it off as my own. No one recognizes me when I wear it. I will say that most people that see it are afraid - very afraid.

Does he wear the pleather pants on any occasion? Say, Friday nights? wink-wink
Only when S.S. coughs up the cash. I may be easy, but I am not cheap. Or is it I am cheap but not easy.... I forget. Besides pleather is not good for the wink-wink, do you know how hard it is to get out of those things?? If you are not careful you can seriously hurt yourself. And baby I am not a starfish, those things don't grow back.

BS, can your wife come to KC for a weekend since I can't make it there for her birthday this year?
Of course, but she has to bring the kids with her. I have a wig and tattoos....I got places to be that are not appropriate for the crumbs.

Can I have some Arby's coupons?
You sure are demanding, how about I just send you cash, or maybe you would prefer a new car.

Will you write a post about some of the antics that S.S. doesn't tell us about?
S.S. scares me. I love her dearly and would never tell her secrets. And she scares me.

Are you still in the screen printing business?
Nope, but I did sleep at a Holiday Inn Express last night.

Are these questions to boring?

Sorry what did you say? I fell asleep for a bit.

Have you ever split your pants in public?
Did you say split or Sh**? Yes to both. But I have had cancer so shame on you for asking.

Have you ever stolen a road sign?
I prefer to say I borrowed it indefinitely. Along with cash and cars. Obama calls it redistribution of wealth....who am I to disagree.

Have you ever egged or tp'd a house?

I would never waste TP like that. It is a gift from the Gods. Eggs on the other hand are just hard, white chicken poop. So i am cool with it.

Christine asked: Was your Halloween costume actually the one time last year you got to be yourself? C'mon, you can tell me!

If you only knew how close that costume is to the real me you would never allow me around Pete again. If I could, I would wear it every day!!!!! Except the pleather, it tends to chaff a bit. But such is the price for being a ROCK GOD!!!!!!

Love Note to my Big Shooter: This was fun. This was a great break in the same ole, same ole. Thank you for doin' it. heh, heh. I said, "doin' it". I guess all that pleather talk got me thinkin'. I'll meetcha in the Bat Cave...near the pole you mentioned...

The Ask Big Shooter Post

2009-02-02T00:01:00.000-06:00

Every coupla weeks I get an email asking questions about Big Shooter. Last week, I had one asking about his blog name compared to his real name. Many times they ask how we met or what our marriage is really like. Did he really write the love letter to me? Once someone asked if he likes fried chicken...

So I figured I'd see if there's anything you'd like to ask him? Or me...about him? He's agreed to answer any questions you might throw his way. Which, honestly, scares me.

Bad.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I just have two words to say/remind you of ~ Family Blog.

Fact of the Day: When it comes to tornadoes, the U.S. rules the world. Literally. We average 700 a year. There are only two states who do not have them on a regular basis: Alaska and Rhode Island. I thought that was pretty interesting. I knew Okie-homa would be high on the list. We were. 56 is our average. But, the great state of Texas whoops us each year. Their average? 124. Holy.Cow.

Kids in the 'hood are Brilliant

2009-01-30T00:04:00.004-06:00

We all know there is no fun quite like Snow Fun...
Well here in the 'hood, we do it up right.
First, the conditions have to be perfect.
They were.
Thick layer of ice.
Followed by a nice cushy layer of damp snow.
Perfect slicker'n snot conditions for slidin' and sleddin'.

First, you outfit 'em up with high tech Slippin'-n-Slidin' gear.

The kind found at Target and Wal*Mart.

Then turn 'em loose in the streets.

Yes, that is his shoe pokin' through.

It was a fabulous idea...in my head.

You encourage them to be creative in their work.

If that isn't a Hood Snowgirl, then I need to close shop.

She's got her colors.

Her spiked bling.

Her flinty gaze,

a big caboose,

...and huge ta-tas.

Now with my Girl unknowingly enhancing them for me.

Thank you for that Sugar.

Your father is gonna be so proud of this post.

Gratuitous picture of my Baby.

He does not know he isn't a husky.

He thinks God created the white fluffy stuff just for him.

I was hoping to show you how absolutely gorgeous the ice was sparkling and shimmering in the sunlight. But alas, this picture does not give you the oooo ~ ahhhh feeling I was searching for.
Sorry.

No doubt this one of my baby, Olliver will though.

Okay, I'll stop! I can tell by his look and yours...

I snapped this right before we headed to The Hill.

Now, the saddest part of this post is I did not have my camera with me at The Hill. For if I did, you'd have to agree the kids in the 'hood, when left to their own devices, are brilliant and creative thinkers. Real problem solvers.

Not all the kiddos out sleddin' today had the great joy and privilege of owning a real sled, toboggan, disk or other snow vehicle.

So they got creative, solved the dilemma and provided for themselves.

Here's a short list of what I saw in action or deserted on The Hill today:

The typical garbage can lids.
Giant plastic sheeting.
Standard Okie blue tarp. (Their Daddy'll miss that coverin' one of his cars in the yard...)
Skateboards with no wheels.
Ice chest lid.
An ice chest.
Laundry baskets galore.
A gi-normous wok.
Cardboard. (if you're moving, The Hill is your box source.)
A cookie sheet.
A plastic flexible cutting board.
Metal flashing.
A realtor sign. (I should have taken old JBF signs and hocked 'em for a buck a pop. Coulda made Sashi and I a coupla bucks!)
A full size trash can.

And my two favorites...

A full size pickup truck bed liner. (It carried a whole block's worth of kiddos.)
And a Kiddie Pool. (It carried the whole fam damily. Including the dog.)

All in all it was a fabulous day.

We saw some spectacular crashes on the homemade jobbies.

The kids realized the whiny-hiney episode of owning only one serviceable sled at the moment was small and petty when they looked around and realized at least they had one. I was very proud of the way they eagerly shared theirs and experimented with the offered alternatives.

Oh, and their vocabulary was expanded today. Not in a good kinda expansion either. But hey! At least the poor neglected homeschoolers were socializing with their peers.

They came home sopping wet, freezing cold, red-faced and smiling from ear to ear.

I sure hope that wasn't our last Snow Day of the winter cause I'm hoping Taco Bandito (Sashi's lover) can hook the Shooter fam up with a truck bed liner for the next big snow.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You missed it today Bubba! I know you wanted me to put their go-cart helmets on 'em...but Love, I already scar them by educating them at home. I just couldn't add Over Protective to the mix today...

Fact of the Day: Why is it significant that the first Roosevelt dime was issued on this day in 1946? Because in 1937 the then POTUS, who himself was afflicted with polio, asked his fellow Americans to each send him a dime for polio research, they did. He received 150,000 letters a day for months. He called the event The March of Dimes. On April 15, 1955, exactly ten years after Roosevelt's death, Dr. Jonas Salk announced his discovery of the first polio vaccine. Hence, when it came time to honor the late President, Congress chose the dime.

Crumb Snatcher Speak & upcoming interview

2009-01-29T00:01:00.003-06:00

Boy Child, very matter of fact: "You know I'm only 10 and I've already dumped one girlfriend..."

Me, thinking: Oh maaaaan! And this from he who last week didn't think it was okay for any other male to touch his new wife's garter!

Me, asking: "Wwwow. Really? And who was that...?"

Boy Child, again very matter of fact: "I don't really know. I can't ever remember her name...it was so long ago. Like a lifetime."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Oh Crud! I think we're (okay, I) am going to be in for big trouble with this one..."I've already dumped a girlfriend..."
Oh, and one more little thing. Would you be up for an interview? Like if people left questions in the comments or emailed them to me and I asked you and then posted the answers in a post kind of interview? You'd be cool with that? Fabulous! Okay, y'all - ask away!

One Fact a Day: Today is Oprah's 55th birthday! Yes. Five-five.

"Hello Principal Shooter? Yeah (fake cough), I need a sub today..."

2009-01-28T00:24:00.000-06:00

I figure that's what I may need to do after Big Shooter's misplaced words of yesterday's post.

Silly man. He has no idea what is about to be set before him!

(This would be BS after, oh say 10 minutes, of teaching the Crumbs...)

My mom does.

And she won't do it again.

Be my substitute.

When Big Shooter came home from the little surgery in which they cut him in half and removed a cancer ridden organ and I was still fulfilling his fantasy of servant, I mean nurse, my very brave momma agreed to teach the Crumbs for me a couple days so they wouldn't get too far behind.

Picture of Brave Momma teaching the Crumbs

How'd that turn out?

Wellll, let me ask you what you were like when you walked into class and saw an easy target - a.k.a. a substitute teacher?

It went about this good:

I'm just pulling your leg. Well, about the easy target substitute part....

And now speaking of school, I have decided since a majority of my days are taken up with school I would like to share a little fact each day. Starting with today.

Where were you when...?

...this happened 23 years ago today?

I was a junior in Chemistry class. And I can hear President Reagan's words in my head to this day, "...when they slipped the surly bonds of this Earth and touched the face of God."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Sorry to dampen your mood in the end Big Guy. I have another fact you might find enjoyable. Cause I think it's a guy thing? Yesterday (when I wanted to start a Fact a Day), Thomas Crapper, the guy who invented...well, you know, would have been 99 years old.

Errector muscles, goose bumps & public school...

2009-01-27T00:04:00.003-06:00

When Big Shooter asked the kids what they'd learned in school the other day...
We, all three, enthusiastically explained we learned what causes goose bumps!
(Do you already know?)
There's a little, teeny-weeny, microscopic muscle at the base of each and every hair on your body. When a stimulus is applied (like temperature or fear) it contracts and pulls the hair erect into an upright position!
The muscle is called arrector pili.
Now at this point I could go down the road you think I am dying to go down...and the truth of it is, I am dying to bring up the fact that there are millions of teeny-weeny, microscopic muscles that sole job, when stimulated of course, is to cause millions of teeny-weeny erections...

But, I'm not. I am going to share the rest of the conversation with Big Shooter instead.

When we were all done enthusiastically explaining the reason for goose bumps, he looked at me questioningly and asked with amusement, "Are you serious? You didn't know that?"

"Uhhh, no. I didn't." (Did y'all? Am I alone in my ignorance?)

He looked at me and very seriously said, "I'm a little concerned...maybe they should go to public school."

So I am dying to know if you all knew about this most humorously named muscle that only needs a little stimulation to cause an erection?? Cause if you all do, he's right, they need to go elsewhere besides the kitchen table to be educated.

If you didn't know about the erector muscles (I love saying it), aren't you just the littlest bit curious to know how Big Shooter knows all about them?

Yeah, me too.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I don't know what to say here Big Guy. I don't want the words teen-weeny or microscopic or erector muscle in your love note...so I am just going to be moseyin' on now...

It's THAT time again...

2009-01-26T00:02:00.002-06:00

JBF - Just Between Friends.

Our sale is 9 weeks away.

So Saucy Sashi and I are meeting to get things done...often.

We had a breakfast meeting a little while back.

After about an hour or so, Girl and Boy Child had pretty much had enough.

Since I have no clue how to work the scanner and the pix are blurry, I'll translate below.

Girl Child leans around and slips a note on our table: "are you omost done?"

Sashi: "Yes! In a JBF kinda way! Love, Sashi"

Girl Child: "Hello Girl Child speaking. I'm glad I'm realy glad. I'm realy realy glad Love Girl Child"

But, apparently she didn't believe us, because When Boy Child asked what we'd said, she wrote this to him: "no, In a copl hours."

When the ticket came it was Boy Child's turn. He slipped me this note: "Do I have to pay?"

Me: "Yes! Use your good looks and charm."

Girl Child interrupted: "He berly has any. love Girl Child"

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I can berly believe it's omost time for another sale???

Mission Accomplished

2009-01-23T00:19:00.003-06:00

We all remember former President Bush standing on the flight deck with the ginormous banner behind him - MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. He faced years of ridicule for that. My question to you is this: Did he accomplish his personal mission to protect us on his watch? Did we not enjoy safety in our own country on his watch?

I am with the half of the U.S. who believes we must make the unpleasant choice, apply force when needed, sacrifice one to save all, if you will. I am mortified to find out the first change President Obama has signed into effect is the closing of Gitmo (with no clear and solid plan as to where the detainees are going. Some are going to be sent back to their countries, some to other countries, some into the U.S. Of course this is all tentative to a 30 day committee investigation???) That decision joined with these idealistic notions : "We intend to win this fight. We're going to win it on our terms, in a manner that is consistent with our values and our ideals," Obama declared, turning U.S. policy abruptly on just his second full day in office.

??? Our terms? Is he joking? When was the last time you heard an extremist say, "Before I blow myself up to kill as many of you infidels as I can so I can go visit my 70 virgins, I'd really be interested in your terms of this fight." Riiiight. And with "our values and ideals"???? There are so many grown men cleaning their britches out tonight...I am with them.

Call it what you want. It is bleeding heart, idealistic, naivety b.s.

Be prepared people, we are going to be attacked again.

No wonder he received the high praise and high campaign donations from the Arab nations. They must be licking their chops today. Salivating at their luck.

I may be in the minority, but I am thankful for Bush's resolve, his steadfast commitment to keeping my children safe, not matter the risk, ridicule, or crucifixion he faced. I knew he was willing to do whatever it took. And, I for one, appreciated that.

A friend of mine sent this link to me yesterday. It is a place to thank President Bush for his actions and protection of us right after and around 9/11. Here's the letter I left him:

To My Steadfast Commander In Chief,

I offer my sincerest gratitude for becoming a nation's unyielding shield. For enduring the enemy's painful arrows and at times the world's wrath. You were an exemplary shepard to your flock. You offered shelter in stormy weather. Water to our souls when they were withered with sorrow and worry. Sustenance when there seemed to be no more available. You never shied from the wolves. Always sought out the one missing and in need of protection. Ever mindful of us. Of our vulnerabilities.The price you paid for my continued freedom is immeasurable. And I am eternally grateful.

Your fellow American,

Straight Shooter

President George W. Bush walks the South Lawn Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009, prior to departing the White House for the final time.

Former President George W. Bush glances out over the U.S. Capitol as he helicopters a final time to Andrews Air Force Base Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009, following the Inauguration of President Barack Obama.

A folder addressed to "44," left by Former President George W. Bush for President Barack Obama, sits on the Resolute desk in the Oval Office Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love the new House Rule: Cuddling on the sofa for 15 minutes...NO MATTER WHAT is on the have to get done list. Cause you are correct, (yeees. I said correct and you in the same breath) nothin' is more important than gettin' us done. Thank you for reminding me. (I would go gag about this time in a normal Love Note, but I am actually very touched by Big Shooter's new insight.) Love you Big Guy.

"Uh...No officer, I don't know how fast I was going."

2009-01-22T00:37:00.009-06:00

I am not exactly sure why he is smiling...

Those little slips of paper he is holding?

Why they'd be OHP Warnings.

2 of 'em.

2 days apart.

Yep.

One on the 16th

And...

One on the 18th.

Did I mention he got an actual speeding ticket a month before?

Oh, I didn't?

Well, he did.

And obviously, he didn't learn a thing from that experience.

I consider this a most embarrassing moment for him.

I don't think he does so much.

Maybe that's the whole problem.

Maybe a little razing or public ridicule will help drive the point home...?

Most likely that won't either. He'll just drive my daily visitor counter up while he obsessively checks the comments to see what you have to say about him.

So what say you to Lead Foot?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Girl Child was right. At least the flashing lights were pretty at night...

Inauguration Day 2009

2009-01-21T00:03:00.004-06:00

I was going to post about the Big Day, Shooter Style. But several things are keeping me from it.
First being that Girl Child begged me not to. She has "had all I can take of change today Mommy. Please, not another word about why I should be happy and proud... please. I just... am not." Second, I have too many angles to hit so I can't settle on just one. In fact, I could not stop thinking of titles all day to cover all the points I wanted to talk (make fun of, smile at, point out, moan over, basically gnash my teeth) about. Here are a few I could remember:

19 minutes of "Stormy weather and icy conditions ahead..." (seriously. I thought it would be fantastic. Out of the park. It's a main reason the Crumbs had to stop lessons and watch. But, nothing jumped out. No "Ask not what your country...", "...nothing to fear, but fear itself", or "I have a dream.")

The Dream became a Reality

Moving Day

Fumbled Oath

44th

The Fruit of Lincoln's Labor

New Residents at 1600

Obmania

2 Million Man March

We've Come a Long Way

Poor Ted

Here today, Gone this morning

Good-Bye Laura

New First Family

Engaged in two wars & financial dire straits and $160,000,000.00 of the taxpayers' $$ was spent on A Party for One... Nice change Dems.

Already Hoping for a Change

I Feel Sick

Frigid Stroll into History

On the serious side, I want what my wise FIL wants in this new POTUS, "Sweetie, I hope in 4 years I'll want to vote for him..."

Well said FIL. Me too.

I wish him well.

I hope he is successful in all he dreams and promises for this the Greatest Country in the World.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I didn't tell you the rest of the story about your boy when it came to the "privates, goodies, garter mix-up". After Boy Child was reminded what a garter was he thought for a little bit and then asked, "Is that the little thing I'll sling-shot and other guys will catch it?" I responded affirmative. With a concerned expression he observed, "But...if it touched my wife...I really don't want other guys to touch it Mommy..."

Be still my heart. You're doing a great job with him Love. Thank you from his mother, sister, and his future wife and daughters.