Drivin with the windows down...

The wind rushed in, bringing crisp, wet smells of asphalt, dirt, and grass.
My hair went Yahoo Serious,
and I grinned wickedly at the decadence of it all.

Happiness Is...

A trip to the home improvement store.

I had to pop into Lowes tonight to try to get a replacement garage door opener, since I so carelessly smashed to pieces my previous one (not really--it fell out of my pocket on a bike ride a couple days ago and the diode broke is all...but it sounds much better, and feels psychologically better, to imply that I willfully smashed it). I didn't get a replacement yet, on account of being completely clueless about whether we had an Intellicode system or not. Who knew you can't just take in the old one and say "Here, make it better!"? I'll go back tomorrow, now that I've done my homework, and pick up a nifty new remote that I will take much better care of now that I know how expensive they are.

Anyway. That second trip back will just allow me to bask once again in the glow of home improvement. I don't know if it's a "memories-of-the-house-in-OK"C thing, or just some wierd genetic "get things done around the house thing" from my parents, but I LOVE...LOVE...going into these types of stores. It's better than a candy shop. Better than a shoe store. Better, even, than an arts/crafts supply store. I love the smell of cut wood and paint and industrial strength cleaning products. I love to browse the powertools and make mental lists of stuff I want. I love to think about having our own house again and all the "customizations" we can do.

Tomorrow I may have to spend some quality time browsing. Although, I'll probably be too excited about coming straight home and programming my new Garage Door Remote. Good times. Good times.

...huh?

Creepy!

hrm. well. the page I initially linked to didn't require any memberships or secret handshakes. Basically, a genetically engineered to be less likely to cause allergies cat is just wierd. wrong. unnatural. google search it. you'll see.

Thanks Shannon!

Find your own pose!

She always has the crazy quiz links, but I gotta say....It's true! It's true! We snuggle and chit chat, but when it's time to sleep--to the sides we go! Wacky stuff, this.

I'm back!

From a jaunt to KCMO. That's my excuse for not writing, you see. Getting prepared for the trip, making sure the hounds were ready for the kennel, making sure all the loose ends were tightly bound. You know how it goes. But I'm back now, and I took notes (YES!) on Things I never Realised I Miss:

1) Giant fuzzy caterpillars crossing the highway. Giant. As in, "easily viewable from an oncoming car at 65mph", really really big, fuzzy, caterpillars. I think they're poisonous too, but that's a different list.

2) Barns. Real barns. Old barns. Barns with lots of hay in them. Or lots of rotting wood. I love and miss old barns

3) Redtailed Hawks. One on every highway sign, it seems. They are just a nice reminder of what is wild and just out of reach.

4) Not just green. Olive green, lime green, pea green, teal green...every colour of green you can imagine (and some I never would). And oranges, reds, and yellows. Fall had just started to happen in Missouri, and it is a lovely sight.

5) Everywhere ponds! Water water everywhere. Little ponds, big lakes, creeks, streams, you name it. It's pretty. It's wet, and it means FISHIN!

6) Wierd livestock. I'm sure there is some around here, but in Missouri you can't throw a rock without hitting an Emu or an Ostrich or some other form of exotic livestock. It's both completely disconcerting and totally natural at this point.

7) Roadside produce/nut stands. All along the highway--yes Interstate 71, even-- there are tiny little "stands" that farmers set up to sell their tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, pecans and whatever else they happen to grow. Often the "stand" consists of little more than the tailgate of the pickup and a patio umbrella. I've never stopped at one, but man I miss seeing them.

Things I Don't Miss:
1) Billboards. I never really realised it, but there are no billboards in Scottsdale/N. Phoenix. At least not on the main highway. North Kansas City has digital billboards now--aren't they swanky? I was pondering the fact that we don't have any digital billboards here when Russell pointed out that we don't have any billboards period. And there was much rejoycing.

2) A church every 100 yards. There are a LOT of churches in Missouri. You really can't get out of sight of one before you see another looming up. I'm all for people being able to worship as they please, but when there come to be that many churches you start feeling, well, put upon, you know? One house actually had the 10 Commandments attached to its mailbox. Another town was advertising "GIG Fest". Dad and I were thinking they were going to go down to the creek and gig some frogs, but no...it's "God Is Good Fest". That is something I don't miss--having religion shoved down my throat at every turn.


It was a great great trip and I wish I was back there now. It's a glorious sunny day here, and I've been for a bike ride and trimmed the bushes in the front yard already, but I'd sure not mind sitting on the deck at my folks' house, mosquitos or no. Or hanging out at Casa Leatherbury with my best friend and her crazy baby that I love so much.

11:11am. Time to make the day happen.

Shannon!

You must make some of THESE!

Oh. my. gosh.

Channel surfing on the net will get you anywhere.

Commute

This is what filled my field of vision on my drive home tonight.

What, exactly, is The Pillsbury Doughboy doing moonlighting as a chef teddy bear with loose morals? I'm intrigued.

Try this:

The Scribbler

Ze strikes again. Amazing.

Ha ha ha

So in last week's kickball game, I went up to the plate and made a crappy kick. The ref called it a bunt and, although I would have made it to first base on that crappy kick, I had to go back and take a re-kick because we'd called no bunts at the outset of the game. Thing is, tho, I just got a really really crappy foot on the ball. It was never intended to be a bunt, it just didn't go very far. Apparently, though, it made a little history:

Ignominy!

nothing new under the sun

Or in my brain, for that matter. Just figured I'd post a few words so my oh-so-few readers wouldn't have to resort to the normal indignant emails of "Why haven't you posted?"

I'm off for the next two days, and I'm feeling joyful about that. I always enter my "weekend" with big plans for all the stuff I want to get done: Clean the house, work in the yard, take long liesurely walks with the hounds, work on my bike, clean the car, sort through the junk on my desk, etc ad infinitum... And what I ususally do is start strong and take what I intend to be a short break. Then the short break turns into 3 hours surfing the net and/or playing WoW, or watching episode after episode of makeover shows on TLC and Discovery.

So far today that's exactly what has happened. I got up and did a load of laundry *and* a load of dishes and then thought to myself "I should go email our itinerary to my folks and Kimbra". So far I've done everything online *but* that, but I'm getting to it!

It doesn't really matter what I spend my time doing, I suppose. The important thing is that I have two days off...IN A ROW. I can relax. Right after I get that itinerary sent... :P

bahahahahaha

My Kickball Team is Number One!

We just won our big game against the only other undefeated team in the league, putting us in first place. Yes, I play for Off Constantly. And our win tonight just goes to prove that you can't beat.... well you get it, right?

Terms Of Endearment

Maybe it's because I spent a lot of my "formative years" in the south or near south, but I enjoy it when someone calls me "hon" or "dear" or "darlin". I stopped off at Starbucks (it's less than a stone's throw from my PT's office--and hey, I deserve every sip of that Mocha Light Frappacino goodness!) and the girl at the window handed me my drink with a "Here ya go, dear." I know a lot of places poo poo that kind of familiarity, but it made me feel instantly warm and welcome.

Your thoughts?

Be Afraid, be Very Afraid....and as an aside...You're Kidding, right?

So today my boss goes on vacation for a week. Our AGM is in Tennessee for a new store set. So about an hour before he leaves he pulls me aside and says "By the way, you're in charge for the week." He claimed it to be a combination of "most reliable and capable" and seniority, but I think mostly it was an opportunity for him to watch me in mini-meltdown mode. Me. In charge. Of a $100,000 a week store. During the transition from our biggest clearance event to the receipt of the bulk of our holiday gourmet selection. Oh, and we just did inventory with more than a few discrepancies, no thanks to the morons employed by the contractors we brought in to do the job. Lots of spreadsheets and notes floating around about all the stuff that needs to be fixed. Gads. I'm more than a little nervous about the entire thing.

And more good (!?) news...the service company actually found a replacement ice maker for our 30+ year old fridge. I'm not kidding, although I wish I were. They are coming out tomorrow to fix it. Maybe the transplant will be rejected and we'll still get a new fridge. I'm not holding my breath.

Shot Through the Heart

and you're to blame ...see Question #24: Thr33

Hi-Larious!

Unusual Suspects

I mentioned in Friday's post that I was awaiting the arrival of the refrigerator service man. To my delight, he showed up just before 11am--a full hour before I expected him. Perhaps he's new to the industry.

At any rate, after a lot of poking around and much scraping of unintentional ice, he determined that our Ice Maker was the cause of the problem. Apparently in the mid to late 70s, when our fridge was made (I wish I was kidding), the ice maker was an integral part of the Big Picture. When it goes out, the rest of the machinery becomes confused and forlorn and just sort of stops working the way it should. Our ice maker hasn't worked since long before *we* rented this house, which would explain the three days it previously took to defrost the thing. Or maybe it doesn't. The ice maker doesn't work, and yet there are several inches of ice forming in the back and sides of the box, according to Bob the repairman. At any rate. The call has been put out for a replacement ice maker for a late 1970s Kenmore refrigerator. Pardon my coughing fit. In lieu of finding that replacement, discussions will then start with the warranty company for a replacement fridge. Obviously we are hoping for the latter--not the discussions, which could take months, but the actual new fridge. It will be nice to keep perishables in the house again.

Hooray For Boobies!

So Thursday and Friday were my days off, and I went shopping...for clothes. I rarely go clothes shopping--with intent. Sometimes when I'm out and about I'll pick up a spare shirt or pair of shorts, but this time I was out for real loot.

I didn't come home with much. The rarity of my shopping--with intent--excursions is a direct result of my continuing frustrations at finding stuff that fits appropriately and yet doesn't fall into the stand by category of middle-age-casual. I did find a fabulous wrap-ish shirt, and a number of great camisol/tank top shirts that will ultimately find their way into my pajama drawer.

The big expeditures came in the bra department. I tried on eleventy billion bras, and actually--over the course of two days--came home with probably 5 or 6 of 'em. This will seem unexciting to most people (women) and just plain weird to others (men), but I LOVE my new bras. It's like getting a boob lift and a new wardrobe all at the same time. I'm sure I've made this vow before, but I'll make it again and hopefully hold to it, I will never to wait so long between re-bra'ing again! Shirts that I thought looked sloppy on me, or just didn't fit right are now cute again! The girls are up where they belong, with nary an adjustment all day long. Oh happy day! And this is just bra #1! I have a week's worth of new bras to try out.

So I'll take the little victories. Yay boobs!

Still Standing

okay, okay..the emails and queries have started up again. time to post!

I went to my first Kickball game last night--a double header in which I was "at bat"(?) three times and on the field maybe four. Some folks from Russell's work were building the team, and needed a few more female players, so he brought the news home to me, knowing a) how competitive I am and b) how much I want to get out of the house and meet more people.

I signed up a few weeks ago, wondering how my wonky back and knees would tolerate it, but I needn't have worried; seems the primary objective during these games is to stand around, tolerate the heat as well as you can, and drink a lot of beer.

Everyone on the team was a stranger to me, but most of the women introduced themselves at least. The boys were being boys, and young ones at that, so they were preoccupied with the brilliance of the team name, which is Off Constantly. I'll give you a few moments to think about the connotations of that, and then present my theory that there were no females present when the name was chosen.

Instead of following the herd to a sanctioned drinking establishment (I've never before played on an athletic team where players took their beers out on the field), I came home for a long hot soak in the tub, followed by a massive dose of ibuprofen and some stretching. My social life surely suffered for it, but my body feels a whole lot better than it should.

And now...sitting around waiting for the service dude to show up and have a look at our--again--frozen over fridge. Between 10 and 12, they say. My money's on 11:53. :P

Something to chew on

While I don't necessarily agree with the way the information is presented or the conclusions that the narrator comes to, there is some *really* interesting stuff here. Check it Out

I promise...

1. To never EVER buy these shoes for any child of mine, my friends, or even my enemies.

2. To not obsess about the germs on a high chair/table in a restaurant to the point where I pull a handi-wipe out of my bag and SCRUB down aforementioned surfaces, completely ignoring the fact that my child is running amok in the restaurant, putting her grubby little hands on every item that is not tied down.

Yes, the "amok" child in the above not-made-up story was indeed wearing those damnable shoes. So much for a peaceful lunch out of the store.

*sigh*

Another yummy link...

Wierd Al comes through again!