Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Breakfast
This is what I woke up to this morning. They were just staring at me, waiting on their breakfast.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Friday, June 26, 2015
Summer
It's officially summer here. The kids are out of school and it's hot. I've been perusing many a-blog from people I don't know who are touting the awesomeness of summer. Swimming! Camping! DISNEYLAND!!!!! I really don't want to be a Debbie Downer, but I hate summer. I hate everything about it.
I hate being hot. The sun is not my friend. Everyone stinks. Everyone is cranky. Kids are bored so they throw rocks through windows and generally act like little shits. My car has leather seats and I swear they sear my butt skin every time I get in. My butt and lower back are about a medium rare by the time I get to work. It is so humid in my neck of the woods that the windows of my house fog up and I can't see outside.
I only look decent for about a minute and a half before my makeup melts off and I get sweaty and red faced. People run around half naked and, 90% of the time, they're people you don't want to see half naked. The only good thing about summer is air conditioning.
Bring on fall, and please hurry. "Sweater weather is better weather." That's my motto. Fall clothes are cuter and the weather is awesome. Sunny, with a nip in the air. The trees are beautiful, all orangey and purpley. I love love love decorating my yard with pumpkins and mums. I'll get a little chilly outside so I'll have to go in and have a nice cup of hot chocolate and curl up with blankie and my boys. It's the best.
Summer can go go hell.
I hate being hot. The sun is not my friend. Everyone stinks. Everyone is cranky. Kids are bored so they throw rocks through windows and generally act like little shits. My car has leather seats and I swear they sear my butt skin every time I get in. My butt and lower back are about a medium rare by the time I get to work. It is so humid in my neck of the woods that the windows of my house fog up and I can't see outside.
I only look decent for about a minute and a half before my makeup melts off and I get sweaty and red faced. People run around half naked and, 90% of the time, they're people you don't want to see half naked. The only good thing about summer is air conditioning.
Bring on fall, and please hurry. "Sweater weather is better weather." That's my motto. Fall clothes are cuter and the weather is awesome. Sunny, with a nip in the air. The trees are beautiful, all orangey and purpley. I love love love decorating my yard with pumpkins and mums. I'll get a little chilly outside so I'll have to go in and have a nice cup of hot chocolate and curl up with blankie and my boys. It's the best.
Summer can go go hell.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Hotels
I love travel shows. Rick Steves is my all time favorite, but I'll watch any of them. I like Rick Steves because he speaks my language. He's just a regular guy who does regular guy stuff. His shows and travel guides focus on European travel on a budget. My buddy Rick knows that very few people have limitless resources. Most people, present company included, are flat ass broke and have to travel on a budget. Rickie gets that.
I was watching Rudy Maxa the other day. I don't particularly care for him, what with his arrogance and stupid little sweater knotted about his neck. I watch it for the scenery, which sounds an awful lot like "I only look at Playboy for the articles." Well, this episode he was in Italy, around Milan and Lake Como. (I HAVE to go there some day) Whilst in Lake Como, he stayed at the Villa d'Este. It comes highly recommended by Rudy who just couldn't say enough about it. No kidding. It's a huge castle-fortress-estate right on the shores of Lake Como. Topiaries, water fountains, mountain views, shiny marble everywhere. Yeah, it's awesome. I went on their website to "book a room." It took me about six or seven tries to even find a room that was available, but I finally found one. Their crappiest room, which is probably next to the elevator and across from the ice machine, starts at $800 a night. It goes up to about $3000. Kiss my ass, $800 a night.
I know of no one that can afford that. It's almost insulting, in a way. I watched that whole program, staring slacked jawed and starry eyed at things that I will never see in person. Apparently there is Rudy Maxa's Italy and then there is my Italy and they are not the same.
To be fair, he was in Milan and I assume there are not a lot of budget accommodation options. Everyone who is in Milan can afford to be there, which is why I've never been. And will probably never be.
Villa d'Este--Highly recommended
I was watching Rudy Maxa the other day. I don't particularly care for him, what with his arrogance and stupid little sweater knotted about his neck. I watch it for the scenery, which sounds an awful lot like "I only look at Playboy for the articles." Well, this episode he was in Italy, around Milan and Lake Como. (I HAVE to go there some day) Whilst in Lake Como, he stayed at the Villa d'Este. It comes highly recommended by Rudy who just couldn't say enough about it. No kidding. It's a huge castle-fortress-estate right on the shores of Lake Como. Topiaries, water fountains, mountain views, shiny marble everywhere. Yeah, it's awesome. I went on their website to "book a room." It took me about six or seven tries to even find a room that was available, but I finally found one. Their crappiest room, which is probably next to the elevator and across from the ice machine, starts at $800 a night. It goes up to about $3000. Kiss my ass, $800 a night.
I know of no one that can afford that. It's almost insulting, in a way. I watched that whole program, staring slacked jawed and starry eyed at things that I will never see in person. Apparently there is Rudy Maxa's Italy and then there is my Italy and they are not the same.
To be fair, he was in Milan and I assume there are not a lot of budget accommodation options. Everyone who is in Milan can afford to be there, which is why I've never been. And will probably never be.
Villa d'Este--Highly recommended
My usual accomodations
Friday, June 19, 2015
Things
I've been a little under the weather lately, but I'm sure I'll be back in the pink in no time. Or dead. I really don't care which. The critters have been taking good care of me, though.
I helped the little neighbor dog yesterday. He's some sort of little yappy Chihuahua something or other. He was staked out in the front yard and started chasing some birds that he found in a bush. Naturally, he got his cable all tangled up in the branches. I went over and freed him and got a handful of dog crap for my troubles.
Check out my artsy fartsy picture. Mom and I went to Effingham shoe shopping ($150 for Asics--ON SALE!!) and there was a torrential downpour. Some of the hardest rain I've ever been in. It cleared just as we crossed the county line. There were big fluffy clouds and a bright blue sky ahead of us and dark gray maybe-we're-going-to-die clouds behind us.
About a week ago I went to my parents for lunch and saw a little bitty baby birdie under a tree. Poor feller didn't even have feathers yet, just pink and fuzzy. Ugly as sin. So we found the nest and got a step stool and put him back in. I felt bad. He'd been in the sun for some time and he was hot. I put him back in the nest almost right on top of his sibling, but I could barely reach and that was as good as I could do. I honestly didn't think he'd make it. Well, the next day we checked on Birdie and there were FOUR babies in the nest. A couple of days later all the babies had flown the coop. They still couldn't fly well, but they at least looked like birds. I hope Birdie makes it.
I helped the little neighbor dog yesterday. He's some sort of little yappy Chihuahua something or other. He was staked out in the front yard and started chasing some birds that he found in a bush. Naturally, he got his cable all tangled up in the branches. I went over and freed him and got a handful of dog crap for my troubles.
Check out my artsy fartsy picture. Mom and I went to Effingham shoe shopping ($150 for Asics--ON SALE!!) and there was a torrential downpour. Some of the hardest rain I've ever been in. It cleared just as we crossed the county line. There were big fluffy clouds and a bright blue sky ahead of us and dark gray maybe-we're-going-to-die clouds behind us.
About a week ago I went to my parents for lunch and saw a little bitty baby birdie under a tree. Poor feller didn't even have feathers yet, just pink and fuzzy. Ugly as sin. So we found the nest and got a step stool and put him back in. I felt bad. He'd been in the sun for some time and he was hot. I put him back in the nest almost right on top of his sibling, but I could barely reach and that was as good as I could do. I honestly didn't think he'd make it. Well, the next day we checked on Birdie and there were FOUR babies in the nest. A couple of days later all the babies had flown the coop. They still couldn't fly well, but they at least looked like birds. I hope Birdie makes it.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Competing
I'm not a competitive person. I don't care if I come in first or last or somewhere in between. I have no intentions of climbing the corporate ladder or social ladder. Or a regular ladder, for that matter. I drive like an old woman. "I'll get there when I get there" is my motto. It just seems to me that people waste a LOT of energy trying to be the best at something that usually doesn't even matter. It only matters to them. I'm not knocking it, it's just not me.
My family, on the other hand, is very competitive. My Grandma once cheated at Scattergories. She was playing with my brother and I and we rolled and "F". The category was "Games you played as a child". Her answer--Flippin'. Like hell. She cheated while playing a game with her grandchildren.
My mom and I were in Washington a few years ago, at Hurricane Ridge. It's a beautiful mountain range on the Olympic Peninsula. There is a hiking trail that leads to the summit with a view all the way into British Columbia. LOVED it. Mom and I are hiking to the top, which is not a steep climb, but I'm not a tiny person and definitely not in the greatest shape. We get halfway up and I realized I hadn't heard Mom for a few seconds. I turned around to find her completely doubled over at the waist, sucking air like she was dying. As soon as she realized I'd seen her, she starts digging through the rocks as if that was what she was doing all along. Like hell. I was kicking her butt and she couldn't stand it. Mom is super competitive, to where she couldn't even let me have my tiny victory. No. She tried to lie her way out of it by pretending to look at the pretty gravel. Like hell.
Once, my brother was making fun of me and Mom, because we walked every evening. He thought that was ridiculous. We should be running, for crying out loud. We walked a solid five miles every night, but he made fun of us because we walked like big, stupid girls. So we told him to put up or shut up. The next night he goes with us. The whole walk he spends nagging us to go faster, faster, faster. A few times he jogs ahead and then makes a show of waiting for us to catch up. Once he runs backwards because he is just that awesome. Look at you go, little buddy! The next morning, I woke up and came down stairs. As soon as I hit the landing I smelled it. The stench of A&D ointment was cloying. I could hardly breathe. Here comes my brother around the corner, walking so bowlegged he couldn't move his legs. He just kept turning sideways. He maneuvered over to the couch and just lay there spread eagle, letting his danglies air out. So, yes, he could walk five miles faster than me, however, his crotch was on fire for a week and a half so I'd say that one was a draw.
My family, on the other hand, is very competitive. My Grandma once cheated at Scattergories. She was playing with my brother and I and we rolled and "F". The category was "Games you played as a child". Her answer--Flippin'. Like hell. She cheated while playing a game with her grandchildren.
My mom and I were in Washington a few years ago, at Hurricane Ridge. It's a beautiful mountain range on the Olympic Peninsula. There is a hiking trail that leads to the summit with a view all the way into British Columbia. LOVED it. Mom and I are hiking to the top, which is not a steep climb, but I'm not a tiny person and definitely not in the greatest shape. We get halfway up and I realized I hadn't heard Mom for a few seconds. I turned around to find her completely doubled over at the waist, sucking air like she was dying. As soon as she realized I'd seen her, she starts digging through the rocks as if that was what she was doing all along. Like hell. I was kicking her butt and she couldn't stand it. Mom is super competitive, to where she couldn't even let me have my tiny victory. No. She tried to lie her way out of it by pretending to look at the pretty gravel. Like hell.
Once, my brother was making fun of me and Mom, because we walked every evening. He thought that was ridiculous. We should be running, for crying out loud. We walked a solid five miles every night, but he made fun of us because we walked like big, stupid girls. So we told him to put up or shut up. The next night he goes with us. The whole walk he spends nagging us to go faster, faster, faster. A few times he jogs ahead and then makes a show of waiting for us to catch up. Once he runs backwards because he is just that awesome. Look at you go, little buddy! The next morning, I woke up and came down stairs. As soon as I hit the landing I smelled it. The stench of A&D ointment was cloying. I could hardly breathe. Here comes my brother around the corner, walking so bowlegged he couldn't move his legs. He just kept turning sideways. He maneuvered over to the couch and just lay there spread eagle, letting his danglies air out. So, yes, he could walk five miles faster than me, however, his crotch was on fire for a week and a half so I'd say that one was a draw.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Tired
I am so tired. We're down one dispatcher so the rest of us have had to make up second shift since the end of April. I'm working six day weeks and have a couple of two week stretches with no time off. I'm getting so worn down, but the new dispatcher starts on the 17th so there is an end in sight. She's scheduled for a six week training period but I'm hoping she's a fast learner.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Misc
I hate exercise. It's hard. It's hot out. I stink. But I do it anyway. The other day mom and I went for a walk, in town, and I happened to look down at the sidewalk where someone had dropped at least a half dozen Hershey's Kisses. I'll be honest. For a split second I actually thought about eating dirty candy of unknown origins. The next block there was a pizza wrapper. Next block--candy bar wrappers. Someone was mocking me. Teasing me with all the things I can't have and desperately want. It's not cool. It's also not cool to be a litterbug.
There is a house near where we hike with a bunch of sheep. The last time we drove by they had a bunch of little bitty baby lambs. They're adorable, tiny little things. I used to try to shove kittens up my shirt and sneak them home. I'm tempted to do the same with the little lambs.
We got lucky, in planning our trip to South Dakota. Our dates coincide with their annual Buffalo Roundup. They have bunch of cowboys round up all the buffalo in Custer State Park. Then the wildlife people check the herd, weigh them, give them their shots and whatnot. That's something I've never seen. It's the fiftieth anniversary of the round up this year, so there is a big festival with chili cook-offs and everything. It promises to be a good time.
When we go to Great Britain next year, we're planning on riding some horses. Riding horses through the idyllic English countryside. Can you imagine??? Well, we've chosen Cumbrian Heavy Horses, based out of the Lake District. They ride Clydesdales and Shires. I LOVE Clydesdales. I'm already about to have a self induced stroke because I'm not the tiniest person. There are weight limits on horses, even Clydesdales. The other night I had a dream that my mom and brother and I were all going to ride horses. It was so hot that day but I had to stay in the car because I was way too fat to ride a horse. It was thoroughly unpleasant. I wonder where that one came from?
There is a house near where we hike with a bunch of sheep. The last time we drove by they had a bunch of little bitty baby lambs. They're adorable, tiny little things. I used to try to shove kittens up my shirt and sneak them home. I'm tempted to do the same with the little lambs.
We got lucky, in planning our trip to South Dakota. Our dates coincide with their annual Buffalo Roundup. They have bunch of cowboys round up all the buffalo in Custer State Park. Then the wildlife people check the herd, weigh them, give them their shots and whatnot. That's something I've never seen. It's the fiftieth anniversary of the round up this year, so there is a big festival with chili cook-offs and everything. It promises to be a good time.
When we go to Great Britain next year, we're planning on riding some horses. Riding horses through the idyllic English countryside. Can you imagine??? Well, we've chosen Cumbrian Heavy Horses, based out of the Lake District. They ride Clydesdales and Shires. I LOVE Clydesdales. I'm already about to have a self induced stroke because I'm not the tiniest person. There are weight limits on horses, even Clydesdales. The other night I had a dream that my mom and brother and I were all going to ride horses. It was so hot that day but I had to stay in the car because I was way too fat to ride a horse. It was thoroughly unpleasant. I wonder where that one came from?
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