Once Upon a Time

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

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...

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.

Or

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...

OR

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...

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...

WE LOVE YOU!

Crumb Snatchers have threatened to Revolt

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.

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!