aMusing Mondays: SO SHOOT ME

Today I was reminded again of a story I mentioned in a previous post. This took place in Memphis last year and another adventure was on the horizon with the GK’s, things 1 and 2.

There were a couple of reasons I was in Memphis one was to take care of my mom. This morning was one of those great-memaw days for my grand kids. The boy’s and I were going over to visit and bring her some lunch. Thing 1 was stung by two or three devilish wasp on her front porch two days prior. I thought I had killed them all, after they got me, but apparently not. He was scared to death to go back over there. The GK’s wanted me to buy them both a Gameboy game to play while there, “to make them braver”. Now, just picture two little boys 6 and 7, big brown eyes, bottom lips just a quivering and a little cracking in their voice pleading for bravery. I said NO. I told them to just take two out of the hundreds they already have.

Well, one Game Stop store and two new Gameboy games later we were having a good visit with mom. Mom gave them 5 dollars each. I told them to give their G-Memaw a big old kiss, a warm hug and to say thank you. They froze in their tracks and gave me a look to end all looks. It just so happened mom did not have her teeth in that day. In fact, we had woken her up and she was still in the bed with bed head and less than favorable breath. They gave me that look that said you owe us MoMo. But like good little babies they did as told. As soon as we got back into the car, they informed me we were going back to Game Stop. NO, I tell them, it is hot and we needed to eat.

Well, another visit to Game Stop and two more used game later, we were heading to KFC. (shhh now, don’t say it. I mean I did owe them) On our way we passed a park. There were loud oooooo’s and aaaahhh’s from the back seat. They began chanting ” We want to play. We want to play.” I told them I did not want to stop because it is just TOO HOT. I told them their MoMo was not used to all this sun, high temps and sticky humidity. It was almost more than an old women could take.

Well, forty-five minutes later we are heading home after eating our KFC picnic and play time in the park. This time I was determined to not give in to any other demands. I told them we were playing the quite game all the way home and who ever wins gets a dollar. “A DOLLLLLARRRRR??” questioned thing 2. “How ’bout 5.00 and we got a deal.” he negotiated . (a kid after my own heart)

Well, 10.00 later (it was a tie, and YES, I know I am whooped) I realized somewhere between the 2nd trip to the Game Stop place and the park that I was fighting a losing battle with them and to cut my losses with any sum money they demanded. I did enjoyed silence all the way home.

Big brown eyes, pleading little voices, hugs and many many kisses are just too hard for to a MoMo to resist. –so shoot me

Until next time

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Fundamental Fridays: Show Me Your Pearly Whites

Alrighty now!  Did you notice it?  Did ya?   A new little face adorns my header.  This little face comes with a name “Q-ball”.  She is now an official member of the pack.  A litter mate of great magnitude.  She is all of 4.5 inches high and should weight between 2 and 4 pounds BUT she is topping the scales at a whopping 8.6 pounds.  She is a bruiser with an attitude that is surly going to lead her into trouble.  Age unknown…somewhere between 6 and 8 years old.

As many of you know, my dad passed away mid October.  I am so grateful I was there for the last few weeks of his life.  My dad had been worrying a lot about his health a few years prior to his death.  More than once, he expressed a need for me to take his dogs if anything happened to him.  I said I would but for him not to worry.  I just knew he could out live them on pure determination only. He asked me to take both of his dogs but I only have Q-Ball.  The other one is in the caring hands of dad’s friend.  The other one, Gomer Pile, had issues at birth which left him with brain damage.  He requires around the clock supervision and that was something that would be hard for me to do since I work.  I know she will care for him as hard as I would have.  My dad told the nurses and me that his chihuahuas understood English completely but he could not understand them cause he did not understand Spanish.  He kept his since of humor until the hour before he died.

So far this is what I know about Q-Ball:

She Snores Loudly. NO REALLY LOUDLY.

She grunts, wait, she snorts with every paw that hits the floor.  This is a good thing at least we know where she is.

She thinks she is the boss OF EVERYTHING and EVERYONE!

She loves the ice cold weather.  I had to drive home with the air-conditioner on and the temp was only 48 degrees outside.

She is so round.  I would be willing to bet she is as big around and she is tall.   I am so very afraid to pick her up most of the time cause I am worried I will pop her like a pimple.  Yes, she is that tight.

This picture makes her look like a mid size dog but in reality she is a tea cup Chihuahua!  Doc says she should be between 2 and 4 pounds ONLY.  Oh my gosh what in the world did my dad feed her?  I know she loves the smell of coffee.

She has a wonkie eye and a little neuro damage in the back legs.  (I hope it is the weight that is causing problems.)

This dog is really strange looking and just a hair on the ugly side (appearance only)

She also comes with her own set of rules, which goes as follows:

1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my mouth, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I rip it to pieces and stuffing is everywhere, all the pieces AND the stuffing are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it is mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
11. If it’s broken, but you are having fun playing with the pieces, it’s mine again.
12. If there is ANY doubt, it’s mine.

And the one thing that really cements her place in our hearts and home is, if you say, “Show me your pearly whites.” she will lift her top lip and bare her little tiny teeth with a smile.  I think she is fundamentally  AWESOME

aMusing Mondays: Waterfall?

Last summer the weathercaster promised a meteor shower. A meteor shower in itself is not uncommon to see up here in the mountains. What made this time different was my daughter’s cousin was visiting for the summer. Living in a big city he had never seen anything other than the moon and a hand full of stars in the sky. I was hoping this could be an experience that he would carry with him long into his adulthood.

We waited until late in the evening then went to the backyard to watch the show.  Living in the Lincoln National Forest has a way of limiting your view of the sky, as in way too many trees.  So, we took a couple of throw blankets, jumped in the car and headed toward the highway to find a better spot. We found that space at the end of our lot. We parked and rolled down the windows. Out the windows the kids plopped landing on the roof and hood. Apparently, it was a new moon because there was NO moon light anywhere. I held my hand up in front of my face and I could not see it.  To say it was dark, would be an understatement. On occasion a car would come by and we could get our bearings as to where we were and what was around us.

As we settled down, it got quiet, eerily quiet. A car passed and we noticed a few flying creatures. After a brief discussion we determined they had to be bats. “That’s cool, bat’s are awesome.  They fly so funny.  I like those vampire bats the best.  Yeah they suck blood!”, were just a few of the comments the kids made.  Then silence as we sat waiting on the show…in the dark.  Somewhere in the distance we heard a coyote howling.  Minutes later another one answers then the stillness filled in the moment.  In the quiet darkness, my mind started thinking about those bats with their big fangs and bloody mouths.   Apparently, I was not the only one thinking about them because all three of us found different reasons to sit in the car until we could see the meteors. Sp Sp Spooky.

Shortly there after, the show began and we jumped out to watch. It was not the best shower I had ever seen but it was awesome for the kids. I would hear lots of ooohhs and aaaahhs as they shot across the sky. In between the showers, it would become quiet again and the thought of the bats would return. In the dark you could hear the rearranging of bodies. Our finale viewing spot was the car door windows half in half out…you know, just in case.

We were sitting there waiting on the next shooting star and I was thinking what a great night it was turning out to be. Soon I heard cousin say he heard a waterfall. I think WHAT? We have very little  water up here on the mountain much less a waterfall anywhere around us.  Daughter and I are racking our brains to remember where there might be water in our neighborhood. There is no mistaking the sound of running water and we all heard falling water. We listened for a bit then it hits me. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!. I could not stop laughing long enough to tell them what it was. Finally, a car comes by and I show them what was making the noise. That waterfall…. was the horse across the highway with bladder issues which went on and on and on. We all started laughing uncontrollably. Then cousin said lets go home I got to make a waterfall too.

Oh and that memory I was hoping to make was not exactly the one that I was wishing for, but it has been forever etched in our minds. Tee Hee. It did turn out to be one of the best nights ever.

aMusing Mondays: Mrytle May (Homely and White)

I detailed my car for Hub’s birthday today. Technically, his bday is in three days.  I also bought myself two bright, hot pink shag seat covers with a matching steering wheel wrap- hubba, hubba.   I guess it’s been ….well, never since I’ve washed down the inside.  I have vacuumed the inside and washed the outside, but I’ve never bathed the interior..  And technically… I didn’t do the washing – the carwash did.  My SUV is a hard working, hard hauling 2004 vehicle that gets its oil changed about every 3000 miles and not a ding or scratch on her .  But for some reason I have never washed it down, until today.

On the surface it was bad, underneath it was so much more gosh awful worse.   Besides the regular car stuff- shoes (forgot they were there), socks (I always keep some in the car for cold feet), a lost military ID (big deal! That photo looked like a mug shot. All I needed were numbers under my chin to complete the look), scissors (to cut the seatbelt off in case of an accident; listen, everybody should keep scissors in their car. You never know when a deer will come flying through the windshield!), tape measure (to make sure whatever I find while junking will fit in the back), first aid kit (I haul kids, need I say more?), paper bags for puke (like I said, I haul kids and dogs on winding mountain roads)  hiking backpack (cause you just never know when that next cache is going to pop up),  canned goods and a can opener…(What? Don’t you keep food in your car in case you get stuck in the snow? I know it’s not winter yet, I just like to be prepared) and under tons of dog hair, wrappers of all kinds, and various papers was ucky gunk.  Yep, there it was. Ugh!  I remember why I don’t do this kinda’ stuff. Gross? Nope, nope I need stronger word!  Something like disgusting, offensive, awful, beastly, dirty, disagreeable, fierce, filthy, foul, grubby, hellish, icky, yea something like that. 

I grabbed the Simply Green to try and make a dent in all the dirt and gunk.  To my surprise it worked, and worked well! Gobs of sticky little balls were attached to the paper towels, gag! Even typing about it now, makes me want to grab one of those barf bags, I so lovingly carry for my passengers.  I thought for sure I was going to have to drive it into a lake for a good soakin’ before any of this stuff would turn loose.  The cleaner didn’t even leave a residue.   Everything was shining and my seats were now glowing in hot pink!  She was looking awesome.  Heck, I bought a Christmas chandelier ornament for our tree this year and hung it on the rear view mirror; but that was a little gaudy. What am I saying?  It was way to gaudy even for me.  It now hangs off the pull knob of my kitchen cabinet.  What? I like looking at shiny and blingy stuff.  And it is only going to hang there for… the next month and 10 days give or take a day or two. That is when my Christmas tree goes up.  Another month on the tree then into the box it goes until next year. Hmmmm or will it?  What a minute, I am off topic back to Myrtle Mae. 

 Myrtle Mae, as I have so lovingly called my homely white car for years, now looks like a big fat, girlie pink and white rocket flying down the road.   See shines so beautifully in the month of October.  It is a fitting tribute to cancer awareness month. I believe Myrtle Mae is in need of a new name, to reflect her shocking pink personality.   It’s like, she knows something is different.  She drives smoother, she has more pep, and she even dodges and weaves with the steering precision of a Fiat, around all the highway obstacles (dead critters, deer and elk).  I need new name ideas people, PLEASE.

Hub says he’s never riding anywhere else with me again (because of the pink seats- not because of the wonderful work I did for me on his almost birthday).  Daughter said she will ride in the back, hidden behind the anonymity of darkly tinted windows from now on.   I love my brightly colored, clean as a whistle, pink cotton candy SUV.

…OKAY, the guilt is getting to me.  I will detail Hub’s work truck tomorrow.  And knowing how much he absolutely loves my pink seats, I may leave him a little birthday present that he will absolutely fall into pink love with.  I will tell him it’s green. And unless someone tells him it is pink he’ll never know what the true color is… He’s colorblind!

Until next time,

Save the tata’s, yaw.  October is breast cancer awareness month  be a friend reach out and touch someone.






Fundamental Fridays: Love you through it <3

Although my dad passed from stomach cancer the true meaning of this song applies.  He was scared but I think we loved him through it.  Open the following site  if you would like to listen while you read I’m going to love you through it.

As I sit across from my dad’s hospital bed, I think back over the years of how strong and bigger than life he has always been to me.  I think of the times he would drop me off at school because I could not wake up on time.  How the one time in my life I reached out for my mom he stepped in and held my hand.  He gave me the courage to accept the reality of it all.  I think how I could not remember one single day in my dad’s life he was sick in bed.  He did have a heart attack very early in life but came out of the hospital fit as a fiddle after surgery. He changed his life style.   He was not even fazed.  He and I were never close when I was growing up.  I was a bit of a handful, more than he or mom could handle; and apparently, that started at age two when I ran away and the police found me about a mile away. I do not remember this, but no one ever let me forget it.

A few years ago my dad found himself helping to take care of Susan, a young woman and a victim of MS.  Her death had a profound affective on my dad.  So much so, it changed his life and a new relationship between us was born.  For eight years we called each other daily.  I felt he was projecting his feelings for Susan but I did not care.  I had my dad in my life.  What I thought was a fad, turned out to be a true and unending love.  Everyday for eight years we talked emailed or face booked.  He wrote a piece on FB that explained why the economy was tanking.  Then called to tell me that politicians were reading his post because he just heard a presidential candidate speech that repeated his post word for word.

My dad was wise, but yet, a bit naive, strong but gentle,  a wise cracker but kind, a man among men, a man with humor, an entertainer, a breakfast cooking fool. A man that raised and loved a son that turned out to be a most wonderful father and husband. He was a loving grandfather that would love so hard he inspired his oldest grandson to greatness as well.  He loved and prayed for a grandson that finally found his way, a granddaughter he thought the world of and praised her artistic talents.  He found hope and happiness in his other grandsons too. He took such pride in their athletic abilities, their intelligence as well as their creativity.   He was a great-grandfather to 4 awesome kids.  But most of all, my dad was a compass, a beacon of light for a little girl lost, that would be me.

In the end, my daddy put forth such an effort to live.  One that would rival any championship boxer, any basketball team even U of M, any sports team on earth.  My dad was one of two known people to survive an acute yeast infection in the blood according to the team of doctors he had. He made his doctors and surgeons cry.   He made his nurses hold on to one another. He made his family cling to one another. He had the love of his life and in the end she let him know how much she loved him.   He wanted to live more than any person I have ever known.  He did not want to leave my brother,  his daughter in law who stayed with him and cared for him just as hard as his own children, his grandsons, his granddaughter, his great grandkids,  his two precious doggies that got him through the day Susan and Gizmo and  his daughter (me).

My daddy, I love you and I thank you for giving me life, for loving me for who I turned out to be warts and all.  I pray we brought you comfort and enough courage to pass on to your next adventure.  We wanted to be with you every minute so you would not die alone.  I pray we loved you through it.

 

Wait at the gate for me daddy for it is you I want to see when I get there.

My daddy started the fundamental me.  My Daddy, my life,  November 16, 1932 to October 13, 2011  Passed from  Colon/Stomach Cancer. .

aMusing Mondays: Touch IT!!!

Update:  The other night, as I was changing shifts with my brother at the hospital, I thought I may never again hear my daddy say, “Happy Birthday, little girl.”, as he has for the past 50 plus, plus years.  But he surprised me yesterday.  He somehow managed to have enough strength to write.  Hap y B   gil.  It made me feel complete and broken hearted as the same time.  He is not able to open his eyes but he is still with us.  He can hear, understand and move his eyebrows.  The doctors say there is very little hope he will leave ICU.

On to the post: We had no rain for around 9 months which lead to the forest closure.  This story took place the first weekend that our forest reopened.

I had been waiting all summer to go hiking and do a little Geo Caching.  Hubs, daughter and I set out on a cache I had been eying for months.   As we rolled up, the GPS said the cache, “Rotten to the Core”, was to the left and straight up. Literally, like at a 110 degree angle. “No Way!” says Hubs. He points out the description said a gentle incline.  He insisted we turn around and go to a forest trail  entrance about a quarter of a mile back.  I thought, ‘This was going to take forever if we do it his way!’ And with that thought, I started complaining.

“This is not right.” I mumbled.

No one heard my skepticism, so… I said it LOUDER! Hubs kept on walking. Daughter had a slight look of doubt on her face but kept on walking too. We walked down a valley with the sound of thunder rolling on the mountain. We had great cloud coverage and a light sprinkle. The only good thing so far was the awesome day we picked for a treasure hunt.    We had walked about a quarter of the way in when it got a little eerie. The further we walked the darker and quieter it became. Bear poop was everywhere and the carcass of a half eaten elk was under a tree. EEEKKK.   Soon the only sound I heard was the sound of our own shoes on the forest floor, oh, and me still whining.


It felt like we walked for miles, until hub says, “I think this is it”. Sure enough, the clue for the cache was “next to a ghostly moss covered tree” and there it was.   Well I’ll be dang!  He was getting pretty good at this game and of course,  he loves it when he is right.   


We all head over to the discovery. Then I hear daughter start to complain of something biting her or maybe a plant poked her.

“Mom!” she says in a panic. ” Touch this plant and see if it pokes you.”

“NO! Are you crazy?” I asked her.

“NO MOM, TOUCH IT, TOUCH IT NOW . I HAVE TO KNOW! JUST TOUCH IT”  So…..I touched it.  

“D@m~ IT, Daughter!” I yelled. She started laughing uncontrollably. I think from relief that a snake had not bitten her or maybe it was the little OMG it hurts dance I was doing.  My hand started swelling up like a puffer fish. It was stinging so bad that I instinctively put it to my mouth to try to cool it down. Within seconds my tongue was on fire! I was scrambling for the first aid kit. Daughter and I had blisters all over our hands and they were getting bigger by the second. We were lost somewhere between sarcastic laughter and the reality of our pain, when I heard husband at the top of the hill asking what the hold up was.  I could not believe he asked that question.  I mean, he was watching the whole thing from above.  I felt a wave of furious envelope me and I preceded to yelled at him that we were stung.  But the words I heard coming out of my face were more like.

“Lee R tung!” My tongue was SWOLLEN! “Whaaa?” 

“Wha ist this tuff???” I beg in a panic to my husband.

“Stinging Nettles.” he says laughing from the top of the hill.

Upon hearing this, I lost all interest in yelling at Hubs, however, I did feel like reaching over and strangling the teen that stood before me, especially after she says, “Good, at least I was not bitten.” in the way that only a teen, who did not want to be there in the first place, could say it .  (again with the strangling)  I could not find anything in a First Aid kit for stings.   I did find a sterile wipe and Neosporin.  Daughter wiped off her hands and applied the medicine. It only helped enough to knock off the intense pain. I, on the other hand, had to wait until it wore off because neosporin is for topical use only. (I could have killed that kid) Before we knew what was happening, I start screaming “EEEEES, EEEES” and swatting like mad. BEES were every where. Not a swarm but enough to make me scream like a little girl. When I opened my eyes they were gone.

“Pobabe goin ta det the hibe!” I tell daughter.  

In my current state of pandemonium, I looked at my daughter and say as cool and as calm as I could, “Zets doe det da tedgger.”  I start up the hill with my hub’s and my backpack pulling a whining teenager by her shirt.  That was an extra 70 lb on a steep incline. Hub notices my discomfort but does nothing other than to tell me to drop the packs.  “NO!” I screeched with all the furiousness returning.  I reminded him the gun was in the pack and if that bear came back for his dinner we could be his dessert. I could just read it  now…”Geo Cachers killed by bear.  Their only protection in a pack AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL”  Here’s yer sign!


We finally made it up to the little treasure and put some bubbles and Neosporin back in for the next  victim player. As we start to leave, hubs says take a left. I head left.  Suddenly I was feeling all alone.   I looked up and found myself standing in the clearing all discombobulated, surrounded by bear poop and bones.  I then look behind me.  That is when I find Hubs and Daughter heading in the opposite direction.  With every step, they were laughing their heads off.  I gave one last look at my surroundings and for a brief moment imagined the  ‘EEES gone mad.”  returning.  I ran like crazy all the way back to the car.  EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!

 


I loved every MINUTE of it!!!  What a ‘tan tatic day’ Nettles and all.



Until next time, happy gaming everyone,

aMusing Mondays: UCC

Thank you all, for the well wishes concerning my dad.  A better community of people I could not have ask for.  My father has good and bad days but I don’t see him getting to go home.  He has terminal cancer and has been told he could possible live as long as a year if he gets Chemo.  He has started treatment.  This treatment causes days upon days of time loss for him, considerable pain and hallucinations.  This is causing unbelievable stress on him.  But each and every time he opens his eyes he is so grateful to still be alive.

Now on to aMusing Mondays: UCC

Back around the beginning of winter 2010, I discovered I had a mystery on my hands. It seemed every time I would put out the bird feeders they would be completely emptied by morning. The suet container would also be completely empty. This being my first year to feed the birds, I was at a loss to what was going on. At first, I thought it was a bear. Then I decided it had to be  something much smaller. My feeders were in disarray not destroyed.  Plus the suet feeder looked as if it were gently opened and emptied. A bear would have broken the whole thing, (dainty, bears are not). I would have to keep an eye opened for this UCC (unidentified crawling critter).

The next night I had a fire going.  After a couple of hours, the house was so hot I had to cracked the window.  My dogs started smelling the crisp air through the window.  Within seconds, they were raising cane. I got up, turned on the light and looked on the porch. At first, I did not see anything but scattered seed all across the porch. I kept my seed in a huge 5 gallon bucket with a tricky child proof lid. I thought it has to be a bear! It takes all I have to get that top open and I have thumbs!. Then out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something about the size of a small dog disappear around the corner of the house.

A trap was set up the next night with suet as the bait. I still did not know for sure what it was but the trap I had would surely do the job. The next morning the bait was gone but no critter. The same thing would happen night after night. WHY? WHY? This has never failed before. A few nights later my dogs are going at it again. You would have thought big foot himself was on the porch. I quickly flipped on the light. I was totally taken back by the scene that was unfolding right in front of me.

RACCOONS all over the place! Over on the wicker couch was the big Kahuna laid back and relaxed belly full and poking out. I swear, I could have easily seen a cigar in his mouth and giving directions in his best godfather voice… that’s if I had had a few glasses of wine. Over on the coffee table was another one watching with anticipation rubbing his little hands together fast at first then slow. He looked as if he were from the movie Frankenstein. He would have been Igor the doctor’s assistant. Add another glass of wine and I could have easily seen him mouthing “Yes master.” And on the rail was the largest of them all, the bruiser the blockhead the lookout. His head was darting back and forth so fast you would have thought he was watching a tennis match. Apparently, he took his job seriously. On top of the cage was a rather hefty raccoon holding up the switch plate which held the bait in place so not to trip the trap. Inside was a little toot grabbing the goods. He was not at all above taste testing the fruits of his labor. His face and hands were covered in suet. His hands were so greasy that he couldn’t hold the package long enough to get it out. It was one of the strangest sights I have ever seen.

At first, the light caught them so off guard that they did not even think to skedaddle. Soon my dogs caught wind of the raccoons and tried to fly through the windows at them. The coons quickly decided to abandon their mission. Blockhead was scrambling on the rail as if to shout ABORT! ABORT! run you fools. Igor…GONE without a trace. Godfather Kahuna, turned to the window and with a grunt got up and walked away with nary a look back. The two at the trap were the funniest of all. Toot’s hands were so greasy that he could not easily turn himself around in the cage to run. Hefty was still holding the plate. He could have let go but his buddy Toot would have been trapped.  After what seemed like 5 minutes, Hefty looked at us with what appeared to be smile on his face. It was a little apologetic, a little scared, and a lot of please don’t kill me. Moments later, Toot was  out.  They ran off the porch and around the corner.  Then without looking back Blockhead jumped off the rail back feet first. It reminded me of a paratrooper jumping out of a plane and then he was gone.

Since that time we have had several sightings of raccoon’s sitting on the porch all stretched out and enjoying their evening.  I guess it all comes with living in the forest.