Lost and Found: Blankets and Goats
RC and I just spent a frantic ten minutes looking for the little man's favorite thing ever, his blanket. I finally yelled at RC to leave to go get dinner (since the car was sitting in the driveway running with the little lady inside) and I would figure out where the cursed object was. It took me (partially) folding a pile of clean laundry that I hadn't done yet, and much looking through cabinets and other things that have closable orifices, such as refrigerators and ovens and dish washers, before I finally realized that when RC checked the front porch he just walked around to the front of the house. So I decided to look at it again, just in case. It had been closed inbetween the front door and it's outer storm door. This was completely my fault. {For all of you men out there who have wives just like me that are for the most part right all of the time, I will repeat my self so that you can savor the moment, but only this one time.} This was completely my fault. And oh, so, preventable. You see, our front dooris directly across from our stairs. In fact, when the front door is opened to a ninety degree angle, it hits the stairs and completely blocks the view into the living room from the dining room. So when the little man awoke from his nap, we went out to pick up the sprinkler from the front yard through the front door. We then took it directly around the side of the house to the place in the back where all things hose related are kept and thus skipped the front door completely. When we re-entered the house and got ready to go clean up, I came around through the dining room to close the front door. I had no idea that he had unwittingly left the so coveted item there in the space between.
Now on to the goats...
While the kids were napping today, I recieved a phone call from my sister. I almost always go outside to talk on the phone if the kids are napping because I don't want to risk waking them and thus lose my holy and pure alone time. So, I went outside. While wandering around the back yard dead heading flowers and moving the sprinkler around, I talked to my sister. I happened to look up the way (that is to say that I looked north across the one yard next to us that hasn't got a fence). What did I see? Why five little billy goats, of course (well, actually I think only four of them were billy goats). What else would be there in the middle of a neighborhood that has no farms nearby? They were standing behind a house that was just sold, eating a cardboard box. What else would a ruralised billy goat herd eat? So after I finished on the phone I noticed that there were odd twigs sticking out from the trunk of a mimosa out back (they were caused by a pseudo-recent freeze), so I got out the pruning shears and went to work. These odd looking twigs go all the way up the trunk and out onto all of the limbs. So to reach up as high as I could, I kicked my shoes off and started climbing up the tree, trimming as I went. A nicely dressed gentleman then approached me, when I couldn't have possibly looked any more redneck (unless I had been eight months pregnant smoking a cigarette with a Lynard Skynard shirt on), okay, so I could have looked alot more redneck, and actually, ok, so maybe I really do appear to be rather redneck sometimes. So anyway, this nicely dressed gentleman approaches while I am barefoot ten feet off of the ground trimming twigs off of a tree while standing in said tree. Herd of goats in tow. "Do you have any idea whose goats these are?" Of course, I have never even seen goats around here before. We had friendly banter for a moment or two until Buddy noticed that there were these odd horned creatures coming toward his territory. I guess it is just an instinct that all dogs have, since he was never trained, he began herding. It is amazing that an untrained dog with only three legs can herd as well as he did. The house that the goats were originally demolishing the cardboard box at has a fence around all of the back yard except the driveway. The garage is on the back of the house, so the driveway goes up the side and has a parking lot large enough for three dualies to park side by side. The fence cuts around the edge of this parking lot, creating a sort of corral. Buddy, being the amazing non-trained herding dog that he is, with only three legs (did I mention?) herded them straight back over to this area, after chasing them all over the yard that is between ours and the one with the "corral". This all the while I was speaking with the new next to the next door neighbor. He and his wife are approximately the same age as my parents if not a tad older. So, once the goats are re-corraled, we have finished talking and he goes back over there to chase them out of the driveway-corral. So, within moments they spot me and start toward me. They nibble briefly on the mimosa twigs that are still laying on the ground, then they start in of the buffet table lining the edge of the property, also know as the hedge comprised of mock orange and rose of sharon (which had a very brief blooming period this year due to the freeze that caused the odd twigs on the trees). They started toward the clematis, cleome and jasmine next but Buddy noticed they were back and started chasing themm again. They went to the currently un-lived in house next door which no longer has a for sale sign in the yard which leads me to believe it is no longer on the market. Back to the story. They munched along the little row of shrubs in the front of the un-lived in house. A very unappitizing option apparently because they were back in the front yard in no time at all. The primrose, poppies and rhododendron bush got most of their attention. Unfortunately for mom and me. The damage isn't really all that noticeable though, if you have never seen that particular garden before. I finally got hold of animal control, and since I said that they kept going across the road they said they would get an officer out there right away. I keep trying to chase them off, running at them waving my arms in the air yelling "getgetgetgetgetgetgetget". It didn't particularly work other than to put their attention back on the shrubs that I wasn't yelling at them for eating, those being the ones next door. Te new next to the next door neighbor came back and parked in the currently un-lived in house's driveway, to try to block the goats view of my yard I suppose. While they were sitting there I decided to pull out the hose to water all of the plants in the front yard. Another man, actually two men, pulled up in a pick up truck and asked all three (the new next to the next door neighbors) of us if we wanted to purchase some goats. Small chuckles. It was at that point that I told them my dad had told me to "rope 'em so's we cun hev a goat roast ev'ry day next week". More small chuckles, with added wierd looks. Turns out theses men know the man that owns the goats simply because they escaped into their yard once. They happened to be driving by and noticed them and figured they would herd them back to their owner's residence, oh yes, it is just right back here in this neighbor hood behind my home. Huh, who would've thought? Goats, in my neighborhood? So they chase them back that way, I call animal control again and tell them they don't have to send someone out after all and that was that. What a very exciting day I had. And to put the cherry on top of this exciting sundae of a day, the goats caused me to have to protect the flowers and so I didn't get the kids up in time to have them ready so I could get to Zumba at seven. Rotters.
A riddle
Yesterday I was thinking of the seat that I sit on and realized that doing what I am doing won't do anything for me. You see?
Croc Hunter lives on...
I am such a silly girl. I don't mean funny with the occasional tendency to giggle. I mean ridiculously sappy with the tendency to cry like an idiot over the smallest thing. Today the "non-working" portion of the family went to the library. The little man loves dinosaurs, so unthinkingly, I grabbed a Croc Hunter video to occupy him for a little while. Bad. Idea. Throughout the forty or so minutes that I spent watching it, I bawled my eyes out. I loved watching Steve Irwin on TV (before we no longer had cable), and when I saw the news bulletin about him dying, I cried. Don't you think that would give me some inkling as to how I would react if I saw him again? It isn't because I was in love with Steve Irwin, I was in love with the close-knit family values that were so prevalent in the public eye. He had adventures. He shared them with his wife. He romanced her. I felt it like a physical pain when I tried to see how she must feel, assuming that they had as much love between them as RC and I have, and suddenly losing that would probably have killed me. I loved the new ideas that he brought to light of how to treat animals and creating an institution (Australia Zoo) in which that knowledge can be shared with all and sundry. I loved the fact that there was someone in the public eye who could be so real and passionate about all that he did. Hmm... Reminds me of somebody else.
Disclaimer: I am in no way insinuating that Steve Irwin and Jesus are the same. Simply stating that they both lived in a very real way. I am under no assumptions that Steve Irwin was perfect or sin-less, because come on, none of us are.(for steve {not irwin}: because we're all guilty of the same things. he he)
Which hero are you?
Your Score: Audrey Hanson
You scored 45 Idealism, 29 Nonconformity, 83 Nerdiness
Well, statistically speaking, law enforcement attracts a certain kind of male personality.Congratulaions, you're Audrey! You're a practical hard-worker with a sassy sense of humor. You have a good amount of vunerability behind your tough exterior, but you're still FBI material.
Your best quality: Attitude
Your worst quality: Attitude
Gross
So, both of the kiddos have pretty nasty colds right now. Being the amazing mother that I am, I drugged them both and flung their drippy, germ-infested bodies into bed. They are both still hacking away at what is left of their lungs. Which reminds me, I have completely forgotten what I was logging on to post. Oh well.
I am feeling very lonely right now. I feel like the events of my life are trying to exclude any fun and enjoyment from my life. I am just feeling very excluded from everything.
The latest truck issue
I never said anything about exactly what happened to the truck, so here it is. We got an oil change about two and a half weeks ago, just after that it started dripping (profusely) and smoking (simply from all of the dripping). So, I took it back to the place that did the oil one week ago on Monday. They showed me where the dripping was coming from and told me it was just coincidence that it happened
immediately after they changed my oil. So, since it was the transmission that was doing the leaking, the following day I took it to the shop that rebuilt our transmission in October of '05. They said that they would take a look at it and give me a call as to what was causing the dripping. So, we (mom and I) dropped the truck off at about nine thirty-ish, and I waited and waited and waited for the phone call. Finally, around three thirty I get a phone call.
"Your truck is ready now."
"Ummm... Ok. So what was wrong with it? You were supposed to give me a call to let me know."
"Oh. Um... I didn't realise that. I wasn't the one who talked to you earlier. It was your blah blah blah something that sounds like car blah blah blah."
"Oh, ok, thanks for fixing it."
"So, you can comepick it up anytime. It'll be $$holy$freakin'$moly$$."
"Thanks {muttering under breath}, bye."
So we had to wait until at earliest Friday to pick it up because we had no money. So, mom took me down to pick it up because she was feeling crummy so she didn't go to work. We piddled around in Murfreesboro for a while and then headed home. I needed to get some cat litter but decided at the last minute to just head home instead to put the kids to bed for nap time and then I would go get kitty litter kid-free. So, we are about two and a half to three miles before our exit on the interstate when the truck sort of does a little shimey under me and smoke starts pouring out the back like the floodgates of hell have been opened. I am gradually able to get over to the shoulder and pull of of the road. I get out and the entire passenger side of the truck is covered in some sort of fluid. I look under the truck, it's red. Transmission fluid. What in the world has happened here, I just picked it up from the transmission shop? Praise the heavens, my mom was following me. She also got a generous spattering of transmission fluid on her windshield. She pulled over too, and she has got a cell phone, unlike me, the cell-less. So, we call my sister to get the next door neighbor's phone number, we call our next door neighbor, we call RC. Then I get the bright idea to call the transmission place, since I happen to have a reciept with their phone number on it on my passenger seat. They say they will send a wrecker right out. We wait around, move everything from the truck to my mom's car, the little man christens the side of the road. And then the wrecker gets there. He said that a tube is completely off of it's fittings. It is a transmission fluid tube, and they probably just wiggled it around too much when they were fixing the truck and my driving the truck just made it pop right off. So, the truck went back to the transmission shop, and I go home again truck-less. All in all we were only on the side of the road for about thirty minutes. I got a call not four hours later saying I could pick it up anytime. There was no charge for the tow (good thing, I sure wasn't planning on paying for it). So, Saturday morning, RC and I went out there bright and early at nine o'clock and got our sweet little Green Lantern and brought her back to where she belongs. I fear now that we are going to have to start saving up to get a new car though because guess what, yes, of all things, the transmission is slipping. Again. Go figure. We have put more money into the truck having it fixed than we payed for it.
It is a weekend of milestones.
On Saturday she sat up on her own for the first time. Yesterday her second tooth broke through the gums.
On Being a Loser
Why is it whenever I get into situations like this I feel so sorry for myself? Like there aren't any other people out there in the world who have financial problems. I become such a black hole of pity that I don't want to be around people, I don't want to leave the house, I wear old clothes, because by doing these things obviously I am saving money. When there isn't anything coming in to save, all of my actions just sort become, well, stupid. But when you add ontop of that the fact that I haven't got a car to go out and be a person in, I feel even more sorry for myself. And then that yawning chasm of black hole pity goes supernova. An icy blast of pyroclastic anger at my pitiful state ends up errupting out onto anyone I come into contact with because other people have stuff and can do things and I am just stuck in the house with the kids and I am sick of being stuck in the house with the kids and I am angry at them because they find ways to do stuff and I am such a loser that I can't do that because I don't want to ask for help because that means I will owe someone something. I have only just begun to taste a psuedo life, and now the truck again. I am such a loser.
