Life in my Cave

People Peeve

2008-04-20T07:36:00.000-07:00

I work in retail, which means that I deal with people all day. I happen to work in a children's store, so I get to deal with small people and their parents all day. My pet peeve for the day is parents who ignore their children while they shop.

Some parents seem totally oblivious to the fact that their child is wreaking havoc in the store. We have kids pulling clothing off the tables, playing tag (really) in the store, chasing each other around the rounders and the all time favorite, hiding between the clothes. Are they blind and deaf or just incredibly stupid?? Listen up people: a store is not a playground, nor are we your personal babysitters. Watch your own kids and if they are acting up, discipline them. If they start screaming, leave. Nobody wants to listen to your child raise holy hell. Which brings me to my next point.

DO NOT SHOP WHEN YOUR CHILDREN ARE TIRED. Sorry for shouting but I wanted to make sure you heard me. Soooo many people seem to miss this point. They head off for a day of shopping with Junior shoved into a stroller and they expect him to stay put and happy for hours on end. It doesn't work that way. Small people get bored easily. They get tired quickly. Respect that and plan your shopping day accordingly. You can't shop all day with little ones. Accept it and know that one day they will be teenagers who wouldn't be caught dead shopping with you unless you are paying. When your child starts crying in that distinctive whiny "I'm tired" tone, go home. Get something to eat. Let them play. Something! Just get out of my store. Thank you.

windswept

2008-02-11T15:03:00.000-08:00

We had some fierce winds here lately and three trees in our yard fell victim to the gales. One tree uprooted and fell on the other two, taking them out with it. There's one more tree that is leaning dangerously that needs to be taken out. Now, this is something my husband could do if he feels like taking a few days off work to sweat and wear himself out with the chainsaw, but he doesn't feel much like doing that. That leaves us with the professional tree removal services. Do you know how much it is to remove three trees??? $1,000, that's how much. Can you believe that?? $1,000 to remove some dead wood. But there you go. We don't want to do it, so we are going to have to pay for it. The price of convenience.

Superbowl antics

2008-02-03T17:20:00.000-08:00

So, I'm watching the superbowl because you have to watch the superbowl even if you don't watch football. Or actually, I'm sitting on the couch, with my laptop, computing while the TV is playing in the background. I'm watching the commercials mostly. Some of them are completely lame too. There was one gross one where a woman's heart jumped out of her chest like something from a horror movie. Anyway, the second half is about to start. And I'm not going to get to see the rest of the game, or the commercials, because I have to go pick someone up at 9. Oh yes, and go get toilet paper because we have exactly 1/2 a roll left in the whole house. Dangerous times.

My husband just asked me if I was going to put anything about football butts in here. So I probably should. Football players have *nice* butts. Not that I'm looking or anything. Really. The camera just zoomed in and I happened to be looking. I thought maybe they had pads in their pants or something because they are just so nice and round, but I was told no, they are just nice and round on their own.

The dogs and a few cats are watching the game with us, but I don't think they're getting much out of it. One cat is on my husband's lap, one dog is licking my feet, and another dog is trying to put his head on my computer. About right for our house.

So, the game is back on and I'll go back to watching the commercials. Hope you all had a great game day.

dancing with the dogs

2008-01-13T08:51:00.000-08:00

I don't dance with the stars - I dance with the dogs. Big difference. My latest dance was the other day when I decided to take all three doxies for a walk. Now taking three dogs for a walk at the same time is something that should be attempted only by a professional, but I figured, what the heck. For the first 10 feet or so all was well, and then they started running. And dancing. I tried to keep up, really I did. I untwisted the leashes a hundred times, I twirled to get the leash on the right side of me, I hopped over the leashes, I did everything but a flying splits. It didn't matter. Three dogs versus one person was an unfair fight to begin with. I lost. The dogs won. I stopped trying to keep the leashes straight, I stopped leaping, my shoulders sagged with humiliation and defeat. The only upside to this competition is the dogs don't know they won. I gave them a treat for winning but they thought it was because they are so cute. I won't be dancing with the dogs again anytime soon. My ego just can't take it.

back to the grind

2007-09-02T16:32:00.000-07:00

So I started back to school two weeks ago. I'm enrolled in the veterinary technician program at a local college. It's a two year program and I just started. I am starting to wonder what I was thinking. Me, at 40, going back to school! Fortunately I am not the oldest person in the program or else I would feel really rotten. I don't know how the other woman feels. Hopefully she has thick skin. Anyway, I am trying to study around doing housework and visiting periodically with my kids to make sure they aren't smoking crack or something like that. So far I'm keeping up, but I start back to work on Wednesday, just part time, and I don't feel like I have any time right now, so when I'm going to study while working I just don't know. It's a good thing I like coffee.

I really love animals, (as you can tell if you have read prior posts) and I am looking forward to being able to work with them. I think it will be fun and rewarding. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is dealing with the clients. I mean, most people are nice and easy to deal with, but then you get the Clients From Hell every once in a while. The ones who don't want to put any money into their animals and think the vet should work for free. The ones who don't want to put any time into their animals and think the vet should do everything. And then the ones who are just all around jerks and nothing you do is right or good. I'm really afraid that I'll just haul off and punch one of them. Be afraid pet owning public: you never know where I'll end up.

Empty House

2007-07-01T18:02:00.000-07:00

Our house is empty...of kids anyway. Our oldest of course is away in the Navy, our daughter is in Michigan, and our youngest left yesterday for Oregon. We'll probably still see our neighbor as she is feeding our daughter's rats, (I wasn't to be trusted apparently.), but for all intents and purposes we are kidless. It's kind of weird. I am anticipating food staying in the pantry longer than a day, quiet suppers, and complete control of the remote control.

Making sure we don't get lonely are the five dogs and six cats. I am thinking that they are not used to the quiet either because they have been barking their fool heads off all day. Not the cats of course. The cats have been caught sleeping peacefully on my daughter's bed. But the dogs have been barking at absolutely nothing. I guess they got so used to barking at all the comings and goings around here they have to bark periodically out of sheer habit.

Another thing I am looking forward to is not functioning as an amateur taxi service. I spend a good part of my time shuffling my son hither and yon. More yon than hither.

"Mom, can you take me to Andrew's house?"

"Mom, can you take us to the pool?"

"Mom, can you take us to the movies? And can I have money for the movies?"

And I don't even get tips.

Laid to Rest

2007-06-18T20:22:00.000-07:00

We had to put our golden retriever, Casey, to sleep. It was an emotional time as we had had him for eleven years. My youngest grew up with Casey. I remember when we first got him and he used to knock Joel over in play. Poor kid would lie on the ground like a slug with this huge slobbering dog over him. Casey always protected the kids when they went on walks too. He would bound along by their side, warning them of snakes and badgers, as well as the occasional vicious bunny. He kept our livestock safe, keeping coyotes away with his deep "woof".

Casey developed kidney failure. We opted not to have the vet perform heroic measures on him, but kept him comfortable at home until he could no longer stand on his own. At that point it was time to say good bye.

Kyra went with me to the vet. We put Casey in the back of the car and the vet came out to the car so we didn't have to carry him. We took some last pictures and gave last hugs. The vet gave him a shot in the vein. Casey barely reacted. We pet his soft body until he was no longer breathing. With tears running down our faces we drove home and buried Casey between two rose bushes.

Our other dog, Penny, had died in her sleep some months earlier. I am sure that she was waiting for him to get to doggy heaven so they could run in the grass and frolic like they used to. I'm crying now, just writing about this, so I will end the post and wish all of you pet lovers a good night. Give your doggies an extra hug for me.

Saying Goodbye

2007-05-16T21:12:00.000-07:00

We had to say goodbye to Casey this week. Casey was our golden retriever, whom we have had for eleven years. We adopted him when he was one from the animal shelter, and he was a loved part of our family ever since.

When we first got him, he went running out of the shelter and went straight to our car. I don't know if he recognized the smell of us or what it was, but we saw it as confirmation that he was *our* dog. He came with the name of Chuck, which we thought undignified for such a regal dog, so we changed his name to Casey.

When we first got him, our youngest was barely four years old. Casey used to jump on him and knock him down to the ground. Casey also always went on walks with us. He'd find a puddle and lay down in it, getting all covered in muddy water, then shake and spray us with the gunk. He loved car rides, sticking his head out the window, ears and tongue flapping in the breeze, he'd happily ride for as long as you would let him. The only time I saw him resist the car was when we moved and he spent two days in the back of our SUV with the suitcases. He was not a happy camper then.

Casey has been a part of my kids childhoods, and my life for a long time. I'm glad we adopted him and gave him a chance at a happy life. He spent the latter part of his life lounging around the house and occasionally chasing a squirrel or rabbit. He' s now buried between two rosebushes in our back yard. I couldn't cremate him. I don't know why.

Thank you for letting me share my memories of Casey. He was loved and will be missed.

The Duet

2007-05-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

I try to get my eight hours of sleep a night. I really do. It's just a little hard to do what with my own personal duet going on and all. Sadly, this isn't a duet of soothing music, designed to lull one to sleep. No, this is instead a duet of snores, designed to wake the comatose.

On the one side of me is my husband, with his repertoire of sounds from gentle snores all the way to blasting snorts. He also does this weird thing with his mouth. He "puhs". Breathe in, then a "puh" out. Try it and you'll see how it could be annoying to someone trying to get their z's in.

On my other side is our aging dog Willy. Willy is a wire haired doxie. He snorts and bleeps with the best of them, although our beagle is really the champion snorer. Clara doesn't sleep in our room though so I don't have to contend with her. Just Willy, who likes to sleep under my bedside table right next to me. So anyway, Willy really gets going when he's sleeping.

So there I am, penned in by two snoring creatures, man and beast. I tried putting my pillow over my head but I'm claustrophobic and I found it hard to breathe that way. I can't get under the covers because it is too hot. I gently nudge my husband, which stops the snoring for about 47 seconds. Nothing works, which explains why I am writing this blog at 3am, now doesn't it?

Loser

2007-03-12T18:27:00.000-07:00

I was watching Wife Swap with my daughter tonight and it occured to me that if our family went on that show we would be the losers. You know what I mean. There's one "perfect" family and one "loser" family. We would be the loser family. Maybe not as bad as some of them, I mean my daughter doesn't have nude pictures of herself on the internet and I do some cleaning, but we definitely wouldn't qualify as the perfect family.

I don't volunteer my time at some homeless shelter or teaching indigent children how to read. There is currently an assortment of dishes and food wrappers in my living room, and dust settles regularly on the furniture. I also don't sort socks until my husband is wearing mis-matched ones. I hate sorting socks. Dishes pile up in our sink before anyone washes them, and I don't vacuum every day.

Looking at this it amazes me how far I have fallen. You see, we used to qualify for the perfect family, but I just don't have the time any more. And the time I do have I seem to waste at the tanning bed or on the computer. I used to have a schedule for cleaning. Really. I cleaned certain things each day so the house was always neat and tidy. I picked up every day. I don't know what happened. The kids got bigger and messier, not neater, and I went back to work. That must be it. At this point though I have a horrible feeling that even if I didn't work full time I still wouldn't pick up the house because it is boring. I'd rather be surfing the internet.

I don't think you will see our family on Wife Swap any time soon. It would just be too humiliating to have some perfect wife and mother come into my home and exclaim over how messy it is. At least I can be thankful we don't need Supernanny in our home. Anymore.

medical musings

2007-02-26T18:35:00.000-08:00

My youngest son was diagnosed with ADD today. There's really not a family history of it, but I can't say I'm surprised by the diagnosis. We homeschooled when he was younger, so his fidgity nature was not a problem. He could roll on the floor as we did math facts and color on a paper or build with legos as I read aloud. While I'm glad we were able to do all that and avoid medication, I wish I had thought more about it before putting him in public school for high school. His whole first semester is a washout because the kid just couldn't cope with the distractions.

One thing I am concerned about is that many kids who are diagnosed ADD/ADHD are in fact bi polar and there is a family history of that. I don't really see that in him though, but maybe I'm fooling myself. It is so hard when it is your kids you are talking about. We want everything to be easy for them, and so often things aren't.

So, we are starting on medications for the ADD and hopefully we will see an improvement. The doctor started him on a low dose and warned that it may not be enough to make a difference. I'd rather start low though and work our way up if needed than just start off whith a whopping dose he may not need.

After the long testing session I felt Joel needed some reward so I let him get a piercing he has been wanting for a while. It looks awful but he likes it. The things we do for our kids!

Love is in the Air

2007-02-25T14:46:00.000-08:00

We're planning a wedding here at my house. My oldest son has announced his intention to make his girlfriend his wife come fall. I'm of two minds about this. One is that I am far too young to be a mother-in-law, which means he is far too young to get married. He'll just have to wait 10 or 20 years until I feel ready. The other is joy that he is moving on with his life and taking the next big step. He's already self-supporting, which means we can no longer deduct him on our income taxes. He's a mature young man and hopefully will make a good husband. Husband, that sounds so old! Sob! He's too young!

Okay, get a grip on yourself. I can deal with this. After all, people get married every day, so parents deal with losing their baby boys and girls every day. I'm no different. I think.

Anayway, I won't have much to do with the planning since I am the mother of the groom but hopefully they will let me help since I have a feeling next year I will be the mother of the bride. Sigh.

things that bug me

2007-02-22T07:09:00.000-08:00

Everyone has things that bug them, and most of the time they are minor things. I am no exception.

People who ask me what color something is. Unless you are color blind you should be able to figure this out for yourself.

People who ask me what I think of something and then argue with my answer. If you ask for my opinion, you are going to get it. Take it or leave it but don't try to change my mind.

People leaving the toilet seat up. Fortunately I have trained my family well and they don't do this.

People who cut me off. This is just plain rude, not to mention dangerous. Chances are you are not in a huge hurry to get where you are going and can wait a millisecond anyway.

People getting in the express lane with too many items. Can't you people count???

People who wait until the cashier has finished ringing up all their purchases to get out their form of payment. Is it a big surprise that you have to pay? Have you never been to a store before?

This one doesn't bug me so much as make me mad: People who are cruel to children and animals. How you treat the defenseless says a lot about you. And what it says to me is: you are a jerk.

Speaking of animals, people who don't get their pets spayed or neutered really bugs me too. Animals don't have to procreate to live a fulfilled life. Really.

So there is the short list of things that bug me. I hope it sparked some irritation on your part. ;-)

inked

2006-10-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

I decided to get a tatoo for my recent "milestone" birthday. I'd actually been thinking about a tattoo for some time, so it wasn't a totally spontaneous decision. A friend was supposed to be drawing the tattoo for me, but he moved and I never got it, so I just described it to the tattoo artist and he drew one up for me. It wasn't what I had pictured but I really liked it, kind of Celtic looking. Anyway, so I got inked. And it hurt! I mean, I knew it was going to hurt, but it hurt. Not the filling in so much, but the outline hurt like the dickens. I did my deep breathing from Lamaze classes and that helped. I never knew all those years ago the breathing would come in handy for a tatoo I would one day be getting. :-) Actually I used to say I would never get a tattoo because I don't like needles. I still don't like needles a whole lot, but I can deal with them now. And I really wanted a tattoo. So, that is my big news for the week. Or month.

Happy Birthday!

2006-06-16T17:03:00.000-07:00

Today is my husband's birthday. I won't tell you which one, just to say that he is well over 30. Actually, he is over 40, but we won't talk about that. Anyway, we don't celebrate big here, but we do celebrate well.

I picked up some steaks, steak fries, a cake, chips, corn on the cob, salad fixings, and the makings for some killer banana splits. We fired up the grill and cooked away. When we had all eaten our fill we cut the cake and poured down banana splits. Actually, I just had the ice cream and toppings because I don't like banana splits, but my husband does, which is why we had them.

Another thing we had that I don't like is sauteed mushrooms. I consider mushrooms to be fungus, which they are, and I don't eat fungus. I also don't eat mold, which is closely related to fungus. Most people would consider not eating mold to be normal, but they act like I'm demented for not eating fungus. Go figure. But, we had sauteed fungus for my husband since on one's birthday one should eat what one likes. At least I think so.

We had a couple of extra kids hanging around, not an unusual occurence, so I was concerned about the corn on the cob. I didn't buy enough for everyone, which was stupid of me because I should have known that neighbor kids have radar for good dinner nights. I skipped the corn and asked my husband if he minded skipping the corn too so there would be enough. Silly me. They didn't want corn. They wanted steak and french fries. The end result was that my husband got corn, so he was extra happy. Thankfully I bought enough steaks, thinking we could use the leftovers for another meal like steak fried rice or something. Leftovers? Did I say leftovers? I fed seven people tonight. What leftovers??

Oh Crap!

2006-06-08T10:27:00.001-07:00

I can't believe I am going to write about this, but I am looking at it as a public service message. Perhaps someone else has gone through the same thing and will feel better knowing they have a comrade in arms, or in pants. Whatever. So here's the story.

The other night my husband and I went out to eat with some friends because we had just seen our oldest off to boot camp and I was depressed. My stomach had been in knots all day, due to the stress of losing my baby. Okay, so he's 18! He's still a baby to me. Anyway, after the meal we had to stop off at the grocery store to get some of the staples of life, (bread, milk, coffee).

While we were in the store I felt the unmistakable signs of impending diarrhea. I clamped my cheeks together to buy me enough time to get to the potty and feigned interest in the ice cream. As soon as I felt it was safe I shoved the items in my husband's arm's and raced off for the bathroom. Sadly, I didn't race fast enough. Yes, I crapped my pants.

I got to the bathroom and assessed the damage. It was bad. I was wearing brown pants, which was good, but there was a large wet spot all up the back. I tried to focus on the postive and was grateful I hadn't changed into a skirt. Then it would have splashed on the floor, which would have been really gross.

I cleaned up as best I could and looked in the mirror. It looked like I had peed my pants. Very obvious. What I needed to do was get the whole thing wet so you couldn't see the bad spot, but how? I couldn't very well stand at the sink in my crappy underwear rinsing out my pants, so I did the next best thing. I went into a stall and shoved my pants into the toilet, twisting them to get most of the water out. Gross, I know. Thankfully they were a thin polyester so they didn't really look wet, just darker.

I went back to my husband who shouted half way across the store, "What took you so long??" I couldn't very well tell him the truth so I just said quietly, "I had diarrhea." Ah, the murmurings of love! We paid and went out to the car, me sitting as close to the door as I could get. Thankfully it was a nice night so we drove with the windows down, otherwise the slight odor clinging to me would have given me away.

As soon as we got home I beelined to the bathroom, locking the door and lunging into the shower where I rinsed my clothes out and washed myself off twice. So there is my embarrassing story. I sincerely hope I am not the only person that has ever happened to.

Oh Crap!

2006-06-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

In a Funk

2006-06-01T11:00:00.001-07:00

I'm feeling a little blue lately because my baby is leaving me. Of course, he is an 18 year old baby, but he's still my baby. He has chosen to go into the Navy and he leaves on the 5th of this month. So now I have to imagine big, bad people being mean to my sweet, innocent darling. Sob! I don't know how I am going to handle two months of boot camp. I may have to storm the gates if they are too mean.

I have two other "babies" at home with me, but one is entering college and the other is entering high school. I guess in a way they are all leaving me. I know this is what I have worked towards all these years, launching my child into adulthood and responsibility, but it all seemed much easier when it was all theoretical. The reality sucks.

So, if you are the praying kind you can pray for me and my baby, that we will both survive being apart. Somehow I think he is going to handle it a lot better than I am though.

In a Funk

2006-06-01T11:00:00.000-07:00

For the Love of Cats

2006-05-24T11:27:00.000-07:00

I realized I have neglected my kitties in this blog, so I am setting out to rectify that situation. I know everyone is dying to read about my cats, so here goes.

Tommy is our oldest cat. He's a tabby that we acquired from the vet's office. He had been caught up in the engine of a car and badly injured, and his owners didn't want to go through all the problems of nursing him back to health, so the vet took him. Then we managed to wind up with him, probably because we are suckers for any hurt animal. Anyway, he is a very cute and sweet. Not much of a snuggler though.

Juliet is my daughter's cat. She is a fluffy white thing with a serious attitude. We got her from the animal shelter. She bites you when you pet her, scratches you when you try to pick her up, and generally acts in a non social manner. My daughter can scratch and pet her with impunity however.

Asia is my baby. She's a Siamese and I fell in love with her at an animal swap meet. She doesn't have the usual Siamese attitude. Asia is sweet, loving and generally perfect in every way. A little bit spoiled too since she's the only cuddler we have. She likes to curl up on me and purr, endearing herself to me even more.

We had two other cats before we moved, but felt that five indoor cats were too many. This was before we knew we were one day going to have six dogs. Tigger and Marmalade went to live with a friend on their farm and are very happy there. Marmalade is rarely seen, spending her nights mousing and her days sleeping. Tigger follows everyone around making a nusiance of himself. He's very loving though, and enjoys the scratchings and pettings of the kids.

So that is our cat family. Hope you enjoyed it as much as we do. :-)

Puppy Love

2006-05-22T15:53:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned this before, but we have six dogs. I know that puts us firmly in the "white trash" category, especially coupled with my love of the show Cops, but I can live with that. Having six dogs is not something one usually hopes to achieve. Rather, it is something that sneaks up on you, like the flu or excess weight.

When I tell people how many dogs we have I am usually met with a shocked, open mouthed stare. It's almost as if they are trying to figure out what they really heard, because surely they didn't hear the word "six". I then try to downplay my new position as a weirdo with the news that most of them are small. Which they are, kind of.

Three of them are doxies, two are beagles, and the odd man out is a golden retriever. It's the retriever most people focus on. They are such large, exuberant dogs that most people find one all they can handle. To add five more dogs on top of the retriever situation is too much. In my defence though I have to say that I never planned on this. Of course that is what mothers of twelve usually say too, but oh well.

Casey, the retriever, is full of life and energy. Thankfully we have a large lot he can run on because otherwise I'd have to walk him every day. We adopted him from the animal shelter when he was one. He's eleven years old and still loves to go on walks with us.

Bub is a beagle, and I believe he is fourteen. Maybe 15. His owner died and the widow didn't want him, so he came to live with us. Bub is going deaf and blind, but still gets around very well. I know he can still see because he has no trouble locating his food bowl. Every morning he goes out to go potty and comes back in very excited. I'm not sure why.

Clara is the other beagle and is the same age as Bub. Her owner moved to China and couldn't take her, so she came to live with us. She is the only girl dog we have so she holds a special place in my heart. Clara sleeps a lot, but generally has one play session a day. She really enjoys being brushed.

Hans, at twelve, is the eldest of the three doxies. He is also the most energetic of the three. He can outwalk me and goads the others to play with him. Hans plays like he is a puppy, and if it weren't for the grey around his face you might mistake him for a much younger dog. He was bought deliberately, believe it or not.

Willy looks like Benji. He has the most mournful look on his face all the time. He is a wire haired, so he stands out. Willy is the result of a visit to a breeder with a friend. The friend was looking for a dog. Guess who ended up with one? Willy is ten and still not going grey. I don't understand it.

Last, we come to Taz. Or Spaz. He's not the brightest bulb in the package, if you know what I mean. He is eight, and therefore the baby of the bunch. He is also the most rotund. We have tried diet food, limiting his food and exercise. Nothing helps. He's just fat. Nevertheless, he is very loving and friendly. He loves to be rubbed on the tummy and will sleep right up against me if I let him.

Despite all the canine companionship around here I have been smitten with puppy love. I have developed a strong desire for a pomeranian puppy. I've never been a puppy person, preferring to get my dogs after the house breaking is done, but for some reason I want a puppy. Call it senility. Sadly, my love will go unrequited for a while. My husband has declared a moratorium on dogs until some of the current ones die off. And given their robust health, that won't be happening any time soon.

The Joys of Shopping

2006-05-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

No, not fun shopping, grocery shopping. Oh joy! I usually grocery shop at the Wal Mart Supercenter because it is convenient and cheap and so am I. Cheap that is, not convenient.

Anyway, no matter what time I go I can never find a parking spot up close so I wind up parking out in Timbuktoo in the vast parking lot. I don't think the spots up close ever open up. They just have cars permanently parked there. So, I park and venture inside the discount giant for my weekly trade of food for money.

Once inside I try to remember what I am there for. Lately I've been good about bringing a list, but mostly I wing it. Even with my list I forget stuff and have to stop at the grocery store on the way home to pick up the forgotten items. I need a brain transplant I think. So I start piling up my cart with toothpaste and toilet paper, carrots and crackers. I'm really a boring shopper. I do buy ice cream, but that is about the only fun item I buy. Mostly I buy ingredients, not ready to eat stuff. Like I said, I'm cheap.

Once I have my cart piled high and overflowing it is time to check out. I go down the row of checkouts, (never the self check, never never never), and try to determine which line is the shortest. It doesn't really matter because whatever line I choose they will run out of tape, or need to replace an item for the person in front of me, or something will happen making my line the slowest moving of all of them. Once I finally make it to the front I start to unload my cart. The problem is that the little bag carousel fills up before my cart empties out. This means that the checker has to put my bags on the floor and I tend to forget them.

Yesterday when I went shopping it was pouring down rain when I went out to unload my groceries, which is typical. So, I unload in the rain, putting dripping bags in my clean car and getting my shoes all wet. I drive home with wet shoes, and then try to get the kids to help unload the groceries. They relunctantly unload and then disappear as only teenagers can when there is work around, leaving me to put the groceries away. Amazingly I didn't leave any bags behind as tips for the checker! I warn the kids away from the stuff I bought for our party on Saturday and put away the food. Then I warn my husband away from the stuff I bought for our party on Saturday because he is nosing around it looking interested.

Finally, the joy of shopping is over for another week and I can sit down in front of the tv to watch some good old fashioned trash. Hope your day was as uneventful as mine. :-)

diet woes

2006-05-18T07:10:00.000-07:00

I'm trying tolose weight for my borther's wedding. I actually started trying a couple of months ago and so far I have lost a grand total of five pounds. Not very good. That is because I cheat. I'm doing an online diet thing now and am not having very good luck there either. The food is great, too great. Unfortunately it doesn't contain things like chocolate chip cookie dough and Skittles, to which I am addicted. So, I cheat. I think, "Just this once won't hurt!", and it probably wouldn't if I didn't do it every day. Sigh. At least the diet part is keeping me from gaining weight.

I also lie on the online weigh in. I have my weight listed as ten pounds lighter than my actual weight. I don't know why. Nobody else sees it. I don't think there is someone on the other end keeping track. It's all electronic. Apparently the encouraging message they give you isn't coordinated with any weight loss amount either because I only lost 1/2 pound last week and it still gave me the "way to go" message. Stupid program. You'd think they would at least have a "you're cheating" message. Maybe you get that if you gain weight. I'll never find out because I would never admit that even if I did.

retail vent

2005-11-26T12:29:00.000-08:00

I work in retail, which is a story in itself, but we won't go there. Right now I am just venting about one particular day in retail history: my first Black Friday. Retail veterans will laugh at me, but it was a helluva day.

First off, if you are in retail, you will work Black Friday. Period. You don't ask for it off, and if you call in sick you had better have lost a limb. The flu is no excuse. As a matter of fact, the flu may be a benefit working this day because you can feel good about infecting all those rude people you encounter.

The biggest thing I want to vent about is the unbelievable sloppiness people demonstrate on this day. I mean REALLY people! Do you just throw your clothes arond? Don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. But okay, even if you do throw your clothes around, does that mean it is right to throw around clothes that don't even belong to you??

I spent most of the day folding sweaters. The same sweaters. Over and over. People come by and just slob up the whole stack and then walk off without buying anything. One of my other major occupations was putting stuff away in the right place. Here's a clue for you shoppers. If you decide you don't want something, give it to a salesperson. Don't just put it on any random rack for the salesperson to (hopefully) discover. That's just plain lazy. Better yet, put it away yourself if you change your mind.

The other gripe I have is the rudeness people exhibit when in large crowds of people. Now, I work in a somewhat genteel store. We cater to adult women, not teeny-boppers, so one expects a certain level of maturity from the customers. Wrong. Age does not guarantee politeness I am finding. One woman argued with me about the price of her pants, insisting that the largish sign that read "Sweaters 50% off" was confusing because it was placed on a shelf above the pants, and therefore should apply to the pants also. Apparently the word "sweaters" was not clear enough for this brain surgeon. The real kicker is that the pants were 40% off anyway, so we are talking about a 10% difference. Not a big deal, but one would think we were talking about life and death the way this woman argued with me.

Which brings me to stupidity. I don't know if we have a large number of idiots where I live, or if our area is truly representative of the general population. I hope it is just the former. Anyway, I had the mother of all stupid comments the other day from a very non-rude person. She very sweetly came up to me and asked, "Um, that sign that says sweaters 50% off? Does that mean that the sweaters are 50% off?" I was sincerely tempted to smile back and say, "No." Since I value my job, meaningless as it is, I just smiled back and said, "Yes". Sometimes I hate my job.

Grammar Gripes

2005-07-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

Okay. I have to get this stuff off my chest. I am so tired of seeing poor grammar on signs!! One would think that in all the steps it takes to get a professionally made sign, someone would notice that the sign makes no sense. Ditto for poor spelling. A few examples:

"Keep doing what your doing keep getting what you've got"

"Helping reduce America's dependence on foriegn oil"

"He defines you and I."

Let's go over these. The first one not only lacks a comma, but also an apostrophe. Apparently they know what an apostrophe is, and what it does, because they have one of them. Why the first one is omitted is a mystery.

The second one is just horrid. I'm guessing that those mean old "foriegners" can at least spell.

The last is an ad on the radio. Every time it comes on I am reduced to screaming, "You and me! It's you and me, you idiot!" So far they haven't heard me. Odd.

So, now I have exposed my grammar police status, and perhaps a bit of my OCD tendencies too. Hope you still come back. ;-)

The Economics of Nails

2005-07-15T13:47:00.000-07:00

This is not about nails used for building things, so if that's what you were after, you can stop reading right now. This is about fingernails. Acrylic ones to be exact. Exciting stuff, eh?

I was finally able to get my nails done today, and I have spent only $41 to do it. To give you some perspective, it should have cost $25, but I seem to like to do things the hard way, so I was able to spend much more for the same thing. How, you may ask? An excellent question my friend.

A few days ago I broke off a nail, and I also needed a fill, so I left for work early in order to have enough time to hit the nail place near my work. When I arrived I asked how long of a wait and was told "15 minutes". Okay, sounds good. I sat down to read a magazine from February while I waited. (Fortunately I don't keep up on celebrity gossip so it was all new to me.)

I waited, and waited, and waited. Then I was moved to a chair where I waited some more. By the time someone was ready to work on my I was hopelessly short on time, so I had him just replace the missing nail.

Yesterday I got up early (yuck) to go into town with my son and try again to get my nails done. I bought a few things at Wal Mart and had exactly enough for a fill and a modest tip. The woman started removing the polish and we found fungus under one of the nails. This was not good. It had to be replaced. Problem here, as I didn't have enough cash for a fill, replacement nail and a tip of any sort. I told her just to treat the fungus and replace the one nail and I went home again with unfilled nails.

Today, another nail popped off while I was making the bed. Upon examing the remaining nails I decided that I should just go ahead and have the rest of them replaced as they were looking kind of scroungy. Chanting "Third time's the charm" I trotted off to try again. I hit the bank for cash AND made sure my checkbook was with me, so I was prepared.

I explained my problem, showed off my two stunning new nails and requested that the rest of them be ripped off and replaced. After a lovely chat and more quality time than I have spent with my kids lately, I walked out wth ten gleaming new nails, complete with a brand new polish color. (Rosy Sands, in case you are interested) Of course, making three trips meant three tips, and I ended up needing more work today because I had waited so long and walked around with bare nails, but hey, I like to live dangerously.

Here's to nails and supporting the immigrant population!

The Secret Life of Teenagers

2005-07-09T17:38:00.000-07:00

As a mother of three teenagers, I have the opportunity to observe these fascinating creatures up close on a regular basis. They truly are amazing. Of course, everyone has heard of the incredible eating ability of the male of the species, and the messy environment most seem to prefer, but there is more, much more, to teenagers. Let us take a look.

The female teenager enjoys a game called "Driving Mother Crazy". It can be played many ways, but one of my daughter's favorite ways is with clothes. She will announce that she has no clothes and therefore needs to go shopping. Usually I will do a search of her overstuffed closet and bring into question the need for shopping, but of course the answer is always, "None of those fit."

Despite the fact that I don't remember any dramatic growth spurts lately, I decide to go with it on the premise that we can have some quality time together. I am so stupid.

Off we go to the mall, where we encounter "hormone blobs", or groups of teenagers doing nothing. Sometimes several of them will be walking together, all talking to other people on their cell phones. I don't understand this. Anyway, we go to the mall and begin shopping. Notice I say "shopping" and not "buying". It usually takes a full day of shopping to come home with even one item that passes muster. This is because my daughter is not shopping because she needs clothes, but because she has fun driving me crazy.

Another celebrated teen activity is talking on the phone. I'll let you in on a secret here. They aren't saying anything. Nothing. I have stood outside my daughter's door and heard nothing for five minutes. Maybe the occasional giggle, but that's it. They stay on the phone because it is expected of them, and it drives their parents nuts. That's it.

Work is another interesting aspect of teenagers. When it is work at home that they are not being paid for, they must be encouraged gently with a cattle prod. When it is work for which they are being paid, they are out the door like a shot. It doesn't matter if the work is degrading and boring; it is the money that makes the difference. I have found though, that they still don't like it. They will find something to complain about because they don't have real problems yet.

It is that thought alone that allows me to go on. Someday they will have real problems, and then I'll be the smart one. hehehe

Brains: Do Men Have Them?

2005-07-04T20:04:00.000-07:00

Now I know that all men are born brain damaged due to that testosterone wash, so I try to cut them a little slack, but I am still sometimes amazed at what they can come up with. Or rather, not come up with, as the case may be. I grew up with a brother and a father, I've been married for over 20 years, and have two sons, so I have had plenty of experience watching males at work and play. You would think that nothing could surprise me anymore. Wrong.

Take today for example. This morning I asked the kids if they want to go watch the fireworks at the plaza. They all think that would be fine. My husband was going to be at work.

I fixed an early supper so we will have plenty of time. When it is done, I announce supper to the kids. Twenty minutes later they still have not eaten. My oldest son's reason? "I didn't know it was ready." Of course. I was only standing a few feet from him when I announced supper. I can certainly understand how he could not know.

After that I told them all that we would need to leave about 9 to give us time to park and find a place to sit. At about 8:30 I gave them a 30 minute warning so they could get ready. At five minutes until 9 my youngest son wandered into the living room wearing shorts and nothing else. When I asked him why he wasn't ready yet he answered,"Oh, are we leaving soon?" Aaarrgghhh!

During this time my husband came home from work early and asked if we were going to watch fireworks somewhere. I told him we were leaving for the plaza at 9 to see the fireworks that started at 10. I tried to be very clear on this. Several minutes later he asked me what time we were leaving. I am not making this up, as Dave Barry would say. Then he asked me where we were going.

As I was gathering up children, my oldest asked me what time the fireworks started. After gritting my teeth and telling him again that they started at 10 he said, "Oh. I don't think I can go then since I have a class in the morning." Telling myself to be calm, be calm, I went out to the car.

The trip was uneventful until we neared the location and I saw that my husband had (once again) failed to put gas in the car and we were on empty. He was quite unconcerned about this, believing that he was going to just pull up somewhere close and find any number of parking spaces. This, of course, proved to be false. After driving around and around and around, he finally drove us quite a ways away and pulled into an almost empty parking lot right next to the transit center. We were, fortunately, able to see most of the fireworks from here, and we also had the added benefit of being close to the cream of the weirdo crop. Needless to say we hightailed it out of there as soon as the show was over.

So what I am wondering is: what do men use as brains? In just one day the males in my life had to be told multiple times the location and starting time of an event they wanted to attend. They had to be told several times what time we were leaving for said event. One showed a remarkable lack of planning, and rather poor judgement . I don't even want to know about other things that may have gone on that I don't know about. And keep in mind, this is one day. We've had worse days here.

If anyone can fill me in what what men keep in their heads I will be quite grateful to you for satisfying my curiosity.

Redneck Excercise

2005-07-03T17:07:00.000-07:00

I don't belong to any health clubs or gyms, so I have to find my excercise some other way. I suppose I could join a gym if I wanted to shell out the money and drive a goodly distance just to work out, but I am cheap and lazy. Instead, I engage in redneck excercise.

This can take many forms, but mine generally involves animals. No, not that kind of excercise! Sheesh! Get your mind out of the gutter. No, my excercise is of the more family-friendly variety. In fact, sometimes in even involves the whole family. Let me share with you a few redneck excercises.

The Toenail Clip: Grab a recalcitrant animal, cat, dog, whatever, and a pair of toenail clippers. Now, try to see how many toenails you can clip before your thirst for a tall, frosty iced tea becomes overwhelming. If the dog is largish you may recruit a family member to help you, thus turning your excercise time into quality family time together. This works the cardiovascular system, as well as testing your clotting abilities.

The Sheep Shearing: This is a fun family event. You need at least one child to provide continual refills on the iced tea, and two strong teenagers or adults. More can be accomodated. The goal is to see how quickly you can get a sheep sheared. Points are deducted for cuts. For an added challenge, do a show shearing, which must be smooth and include the legs. Try to choose a hot, sticky day to do this for maximum benefits. This excercise helps you practice your deep breathing and works the upper arms.

The Cow Trimming: Trimming a dairy cow is the best because it tests your reflexes as you trim every last stinking hair from the teats. Again, hot days are best because the little hairs will stick to your sweaty arms, thus giving you an opportunity to practice patience as well as the upper body and aforementioned reflexes. The legs are also worked some as you do squats trying to shave the belly.

The Car Repair: This one doesn't involve animals, but is a perennial favorite amongst rednecks. Gather the family around your nearly dead but paid for car and make suggestions as to what might be wrong this time. Then, a couple of the family members make a run to the auto parts store while another makes iced tea. If there are any other family members, they can start the BBQ going. When the car parts are home, someone is elected to start removing the offending part. When they can't get it out, the next person in line can start. Eventually someone will be able to remove it. Or not. Either way, the upper body has had a great workout and you can all enjoy the iced tea and BBQ. Be sure to use plenty of sauce.

Gone to the Dogs

2005-07-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

We never really planned on having six dogs; it just kind of happened. I was always of the mindset that two, or at the most three, dogs was sufficient unless one bred them professionally. And yet, here we are, with six dogs.

I currently have three of them in the room with me, which I think is some kind of record low. One is sleeping, and two are tearing around the room like maniacs. The two maniacs are doxies, the sleeper is an elderly beagle. Sleeping is what he does best. The other dogs include another doxie, another elderly beagle, and a larger than average golden retriever.

I know this is too many, and probably puts us in the category of "trailer trash", but there is nothing to be done. We are stuck with six dogs, three cats, two birds, and a hedgehog.

Of course, this is a major downsizing from what we used to have, but most of the animals were outside where we used to live, and for some reason they all think they live inside here. In fact, they think they live in my bed and under my feet, which makes sleeping and walking somewhat difficult at times. (Not the hedghog of course. He sleeps in his own cage and is rarely underfoot.)

So that being said, can someone explain to me why I still insist on looking longingly at ferrets, fish, hamsters, and basically any kind of creature I could bring home??

2005-06-30T16:26:00.000-07:00

The phone rang again this morning. If you read yesterday's post you will see how I feel about morning phone calls. At least this time it wasn't a wrong number; it was just for my son who wasn't at home.

My daughter staggered upstairs later on and said she felt like she had been eating knives, which didn't sound good to me. I took the trusty old flashlight and looked down her throat, seeing exactly what I expected to see: white spots. Strep throat. Oh joy!

This was especially enjoyable since I hadn't gotten around to finding a doctor, which meant that I had to do a search and find someone near here who took our insurance. Then I got to fill out all the paperwork at the office since we were new. I swear there was a packet of papers this thick. (I'm holding my fingers about 1/2 inch apart.)

When we got home, after scoring some samples, I decided to do some laundry. I know, I know. I lead a really exciting life, but please, don't be jealous. Upon entering the laundry room I was hit with the unmistakeable realization that water was coming from somewhere. I moved the rattan basket and found a really grody roll of toilet paper, and also found a spectacular mold growth going on on the underside of the basket.

At that point I decided it was no longer my problem and called my husband. Let him deal with it.

I went up to fix supper and feed the dogs. I'm not sure if he managed to find out what was wrong yet, but I sure hope so. I can't live without my washer. I'll keep you posted on this exciting episode in my life.

It's Always the Little Things

2005-06-29T14:04:00.000-07:00

The phone rang at 8 a.m. , which did not make me a happy camper. I am not a morning person, and this morning was especially bad since I had not gone to sleep until around 5 a.m. , which is not normal, even for me. Anyway, the phone rang and a woman asked for someone who did not live here. I told her she had the wrong number, at which point she began to question me, like maybe I didn't actually know who lived in my house. I finally convinced her that she really did have the wrong number and she hung up. I tried to go back to sleep, but it wasn't working very well. Pretty soon the phone rings again. Same woman. Same answer. No, we haven't added another family member in the 30 or so minutes since your last call. So she starts questioning me again!

"Is this 555-5555?"

"No"

"Well, that's the number I'm dialing. I can see it right on my screen."

"I'm sorry, but that is the wrong number. Perhaps there is a problem with the phone company."

(In an awed voice) "That's just really weird!"

"Yes, well, perhaps there is a problem with the phone company."

"I really need to get hold of this girl, but I keep getting you. (giggle) I hope I don't keep getting you all day!"

I just knew she looked perky. She sounded perky. I don't do perky, especially in the mornings.

I finally get Perky Girl off the phone and manage to doze off again when the stupid phone rings. I'd like to slam it against the wall, but there is always the off chance that my dad is calling, despite the fact that I know he limits his calls to after midnight but before 7 in the morning.

So, I answer it and a voice that sounds familiar says, "Hey, whatcha doing?"

"Lying here", I answer.

Then I hear a startled, "Jenny?"

Since my name is not Jenny this threw me for a loop.

"No," I sigh, "You have the wrong number."

She reads off my phone number to me, and yep, that's the right one, but there is no Jenny here.

"Where are you?" she asks.

Feeling a bit sensitive from my earlier encounters I just reply that there is no Jenny and hasn't been for quite some time.

Pause. Then suddenly she blurts out my name. Turns out it was the person I thought it was originally, but she thought I was someone else. Had her names and phone numbers mixed up. We had a nice chat, caught up on things, and by the time we hung up I was wide awake.

So, my day began far too early for my tastes and just screwed up my whole plan. I seriously hope nobody calls tomorrow morning or else I will have to blow a foghorn in their ear.

Shallow Gal

2005-06-28T19:43:00.000-07:00

Remember the movie Shallow Hal? Well, I realized tonight that I am a shallow gal. I settled down for an evening of mindless TV ,(Trading Spouses), only to find that there was a Presidential Speech on instead. I was really, really ticked. That's when it hit me: I would honestly and truly rather watch a rerun of Trading Spouses than the leader of our country give a speech on Iraq.

What makes this truly pathetic is that my family has a long history of military service, my son is enlisted in the military, and I have always considered myself to be a rather patriotic American. The only way to explain this dichotomy is: I am shallow.

I think what bothers me the most is the fact that I am not bothered by the fact that I aught to be bothered. I'm not sure that sentence makes any sense, but hey, I'm shallow so I don't care.