Holy Toledo Don’t Move

If you follow me, you know that I have a few dogs.  Mutt is the biggest of all three and the biggest chicken of them all.  This scaredy cat syndrome she has leads to a lot of uncontrolled barking.  My neighbors hate it and so do we.  My husband had threatened for years to buy one of those shocking dog collars for barking, but I forbade it.  All I could imagine was the ‘youtube’ video where the dude had the collar on and he barked.  Each time he barked louder and each time he was shocked with more intensity.   The poor guy was crying uncontrollable by the time he got it off.  NO WAY WAS THAT HAPPENING TO MY BABY GIRL. PERIOD.

Mutt is totally afraid of everything and everyone.  If she sees white on the ground, she refuses to go out.  It does not help that she was clobbered by a 2 foot avalanche of snow off the roof one year.  When she sees anything out in the yard that has not been there all her life, she spazzes out especially if it is black.  In out, in out, barking for one of us to come see what is in her space.  Fall is the worst.  Leaves…do I need to say more?  She has a dog door but you can forget about her using it after sun down.  In the rare cases she has tried to brave the night, she has high tailed it right back in with eyes as wide as apples, hair ruffled on her back, and barking to beat the band.  Heck, half the time she is running so fast and out of control to get back inside she misses the dog door completely and smacks her head into the door facing.  She is definitely my 80 pound chicken little.

One day I came home from work.  Hub was avoiding eye contact.  I knew something was up right then.  He only does this when he has done something he knows I would not approve of.  I looked all over for evidence to support my suspicion.  I found nothing.  As I was fixing dinner, I noticed Hub was becoming more fidgety and shifty eyed.  Hmmmmm.  I served dinner and all were in attendance except Mutt.

MUTT.  I look at Hub. Not a word escaped his lips.   He had that deer in the head light look.   I got up and looked out the back door.  There was Mutt in the corner of the yard pressed against the fence.  She was just sitting there not doing anything.  I opened the door and called her in.  She came walking on her tip toes.  What the heck was going on?  I asked Hub if he had beaten my dog.  He looked at me as if I had asked him if he’d killed one of my kids.  “Of course not!” he said with disgust.  Mutt comes in with a mixture of calm and defeat.  I thought maybe she was sick.  I resumed eating.

It was not until later that night I realized she had not uttered a sound all evening.  She went out and came back in without incident.  What in the world was going on?  I called her over to the couch.  She jumped up and laid her head in my lap. And that is when I saw IT.  Hubs had gone and bought that shock collar!  I throw my evil eye upon him and he immediately started with his defense.

He pointed out the fact that we had not heard a peep out of her all night.  (evil eye).  He pointed out that she has calmed down to a normal dog’s energy. (slight evil eye).  And the most important thing was the collar seemed to have a calming affect on her that made her a bit braver and more confident.  (Are you kidding me?  Huge Evil Eye!).  He gave me a little cockeyed smile.  I went to take it off but he forbade me.  Oh boy, but I went along with it.  I was going to trash it as soon as he went to sleep.  However, something happened that night.  She did seem a bit more confident.  She went in and out the door with ease.  No barking and no frightened looks.  It was as if this collar was protecting her at all times.  I’m sure in her mind everything around her was getting shocked too and therefore nothing would dare move or grab her.  I did not throw it away.

Next morning, I asked him about her reaction to the collar.  He said she was barking her fool head off at something, probably a falling leaf.  He put the collar on and walked back inside.  She started to bark again and got a surprise!  It shocked her and he said she yelped.  She tried it one more time, yelped, then never barked again.  It broke my heart to hear this but she was being quiet and acting very content.

Over the years she has become friends with it.  She knows the collar gives her more freedom and willingly comes to you to put it on.  (we can let her out without fear of the neighbors complaining)   You can even ask her where it is and she will look around the room as if she is really looking for it.  She has figured out she can bark but only intermittently.  The collar gives her a couple of times before it shocks. Please don’t think of this as cruel the why I did at first.  We give her the bark time she need to be queen of the back yard and, at least for my dog, it has helped her and us so much.  Now to the reason I started this story.

Jeff, our Pomeranian, has a vocabulary of about a billion barks. He loves to continually show off his aptitude.  Today was an extremely vocal day for Jeff and Hub had reached his limit.  He snatched the collar off Mutt.  She gave him a surprised look.  He then proceeded to adjust the size to fit Jeff.  No! No! I yelled. Mutt started walking in circles.  I kept telling Hub he was too little.  It would hurt him.  But Hub continued with his mission.  Before you knew it, Jeff was sporting a new shocking device around his tiny little neck.

I was freaking out.  Hub started laughing and I looked at him with contempt only to see him pointing at Mutt.  Mutt was sitting on the couch reared back with the whites of her eyes showing.   She and Jeff had locked gazes.   Her ears were lying down and she was so still she was not even breathing.  It looked as if she were telepathically warning Jeff not to make a sound or make a move.  And Jeff obeyed her every telepathic thought.  He stood there frozen stiff.  It was as if she had told him all about that collar.  He never made a peep.  And she never took her googly eyes off of him.  After a few minutes of laughter, from both of us, Hub felt sorry for him because he told me to take it off.  I did and off he went out the dog door to educate the backyard critters with his verbal skills. All I can say is I sure am glad the boy knows how to keep his mouth shut when it counts.

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Until next time remember this: When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person, err, dog who can live in peace with others.

The Power or My funny “friend” part 2

Last Monday was a part one and here, as promised, is the rest of the story.

It is a little past 12:00 p.m and around two weeks later. All the electricity it OUT, my husband would prefer that I not write about him again so I will tell you what happened when “my friend” came home.

I greeted my bestie at the garage door, which I had to manually open. He calls out, with the enthusiasm of a 9 year old. “What is wrong?” “The electricity out?” “Yes”, I said.

Here we go…..

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He walks into the garage as quick as knee high snow will let him. He immediately goes to the back porch. For a little while, I hear nothing, nothing at all. The door swings open… There he stands and in his hand is a key and the answers to all our problems, he proudly announced. I swear there were beams of light projecting from somewhere in the background. He looked bigger than life right then. Maybe it was the way he was holding himself

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chest out, head up, and chin straight or it could have been the sun setting behind him. In his hand, a little orange box attached to this long cord, which had been pulled in through the doggie door. (Dogs were looking a little suspicious at him) He sits it up on the kitchen island and with great satisfaction… he turns that key he was holding. This thing has a key to start it remotely!! I might need to get my friend to teach me how to use it. It starts up pretty as you please. He, my friend, smiles. Scurry, scurry all over the place pulling extension cord from everywhere. He starts plugging in the electronics. (notice his level of priority) TV – check, internet, router, and computers – check, refrigerator – check, by the way, he listens this time to make sure it is really off then turns and looks at me. I am standing there, apparently and without my knowledge, with a huge sheepish grin on my face. I’m taking it all in. I don’t want to miss a thing. In my mind, I’m writing this story as we go. He gets this serious look on his face and tells me I can not write about any of this. People in town are waving at him that he doesn’t even know and he attributes the friendly nature of folks to my FaceBook notes. Boy, he sure does give me a lot of credit. 😉

I open the refrigerator door and NOTHING! It was not working.

“It’s NOT WORKING” he says with disbelief and a slight panic in his voice. “I told you we should have tested this damn thing out before we really needed it”, my friend says. Unbelievably, he is directing that shout out at me. It could be because I told him I did not want to fool with all the cords and the hassle of moving things here and there when he first got it. It could be because I told him just to leave it until we really needed it, but who really knows why he would take such a tone. -grins-

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TV – does not work, internet and router not working. What the……? With a bewildered look on his face, heels dug in and tongue stuck out his mouth, for concentration, he sets to work on the problem. In and out, in and out of the house then a few minutes later, da, da, dah, everything is working. He calls me into the kitchen to receive a general lesson. “You have to make sure all the plugs are in tight”, he tell me. “And see this one, this one you have to turn it a half a turn to the right.” (Big Grin) He is really trying very hard to not show how exhilarated he is. He’s convinced I am going to write about this anyway. He’d be right.

Now we are sitting in the living room. My best friend is feeling quite pleased with himself. Then he looks at me, I could see the excitement building. He asked, “Do you think I should go plow the drive now?” All the while, the snow is being poured out of the sky by the bucket loads.
Thus, is a day in the life of my snow happy husband “friend” deep in the Sacramento Mountains.

All kidding aside, I love it when he is happy. He is my hero, my “friend”.

aMusing Mondays: This Ain’t Yo Mama’s Dance

I write for the webcam in our little village.  This story was one I wrote back in the peak of our dry season and posted for the webcam blog.  Originally, it was called The Dance but I thought I would shake it up a bit with a different title.

I can not tell you how long it has been since we have had rain. Days would be an understatement it is more like nine months. I remember a few years ago, back around 2006, we had a pretty good dry spell too. A handful of us gals decided to try a rain dance. We had a designated time, we decided to do it in our own back yards and…. we were  to do it naked!.

WHY???

I don’t know but that was the deal. You had to follow these decisions to the T or, as I was told, “To the T or don’t do the dance at all.”  We were convinced it would only work if we all did it and followed the criteria to the letter. The dance was not choreographed nor rehearsed. You might say we decided  to do an interpretative dance. I remember thinking, “What the heck am I DOING?”, while I was stomping my feet and throwing my hands in the air.  My normally covered places were now exposed and wiggling in the wind.  My arms were waving and I was chanting, “Come on, come on and make it rain!”, over and over and over again. I felt so foolish.   My dogs thought I had lost my mind but they liked it. They were running in circles chasing each other in the dark of night and barking up a storm. Thank goodness my neighbors were gone. The whole time I was wondering if everybody else was doing it or if any moment they were going to jump out and punk me. The one thing we did not decide was how long we were to do this naked rain dance. After what felt like LONG ENOUGH, I grabbed my robe and ran inside, dogs in tow. A few days later the rain came. It rained and rained. It rained so much that parts of the mountain flooded. In fact, I had a rather large river running through my front yard even parts of the highway had to be closed because of the run off. It was strange to say the least. That following winter was a good snowy winter as well. I would have to say that the nude rain danced worked.

Now here we are again. No rain in sight and nothing on the radar. One of the original organizers called the other night and stated we need another rain dance. Same rules as last time…and to be followed to the T or it just won’t work. Last night at 9:00 p.m. I tipped toed out the back door. My dogs were not invited this year because my neighbors were here most of the week and I was not sure if they had left yet. I preferred no one witness this crazy woman trying to do her part for all her forest neighbors. Nine o’clock struck and I began to dance as before. Right as I started, I heard an eerie  noise creep up behind me. I could not see a thing because my eyes had not had a chance to adjust to the moonless night.  All I could think of was a coyote or bear or some other kind of wild animal breathing on my bare legs! That crazy thought soon became a reality.  Not only could I feel it, I could hear its steady breathe…in out…in out.   I stood there frozen, naked and night blinded.  I gave myself a minute to adjust to the darkness then slowly turned around.

MY DOGS!

My dogs had slipped out through the dog door and were waiting for their dance invitation, which I was happy to give after I made sure my neighbors were gone. Those little happy brown eyes and wagging tails were just so cute I just could not refuse them. We started slowly then worked our way up to a full-fledged rain dance! The dogs were in heaven running in circles and barking. We were having a pretty good time. It felt oddly freeing and if it paid off like last time very rewarding. I felt no embarrassment in the cloak of darkness and no one else was around… until look up to see Hubs shadow moving toward the window. Oh no, he is going to think I have lost my mind, again. He knew that us girls were going to do a rain dance but he had no idea that we were doing it naked. In all our dancing fun, the dogs and I had worked our way up the hill and out further in the field than I had planned. I had not noticed that until I had to race for my robe by the door. I had to get to it before he turned ON the Porch Light! I believe my dogs thought this was a race to end all races. Mutt must have felt I was winning because she moved her body right in front of mine and over I went like a slinky down the stairs, or in my case down the hill.  Ouch! I had to have rolled and bounced because I was on my feet in a split second and in full stride.  Thank God for padded cabooses.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?

Finally I get to my robe, compose myself, pulled the sticks out of my hair and walked in as if nothing happened. When I walked in, Hubs asked, “Did you do your dance at 9:00?” “Yes”, I said then went to wash my wounds. While tending to my skint knees, I ‘decided’ if called upon next year I will  pass on the dance. I think I better leave that to the younger braver ones.  I just hope that this year’s effort will bring the rain again.

Until next time

update: 1 week after our dance it RAINED.

aMusing Mondays: A Wicked Sense of Humor

 

When we moved here years ago I was totally shocked at the size of these birds up here. I thought they were giant crows that were involved in some type of nuclear fall out. I can only guess their weight but I would guesstimate an average of 20 lbs…some larger some smaller but all huge! I was told later on they were Common Ravens. Shoot, there is NOTHING common about those birds as far as I am concerned. In the last few years I have come to believe the Common Raven must have a sense of humor. Last winter, one Raven that hangs out at the top of my backyard Pines got a big chuckle when he witnessed my dogs’ surprise of the first snow of 2010.

Every morning my dogs have a ritual, which consists of, CAN’T WAIT TO GET OUT THE DOOR AND BARK MY BRAINS OUT! Pacing, pacing can’t wait. They run as FAST as they can, down a 45ft porch and jump off the end with an attitude that should scare even the meanest of squirrels! Then turn with a puffed out chest to look at the door to see if anyone was watching. They are proud beasts, my Mutt and Jeff.

This morning was a tad bit different. Can’t wait, Can’t wait! (the same) Ready set GO (the same)….run, run, run (the same)… the little one (7 lbs Jeff) gets to the end of the porch first but things are DIFFERENT! White stuff.  EVERYWHERE! He puts on the brakes right as he gets to the end of the porch…..PLONK! He flew off alright but not in the manner he was accustomed to. Pride was…………GONE.

The BIG one (70+ lb, Mutt) was hot on his trail. There was no way that little one was going to beat her. Her mind quickly changed as she watched him fly then land hard in the snow. She tried with everything she had to stop. Too late, the snow and ice started about 15 ft from the end and she was already in it. BRAKE, BRAKE, BRAKE, you could just see her mind yelling it and her eyes pleading it. She did manage to slow down a little bit before the big finish, which lead to an agonizing slow motion crash. She felt ever step she hit as she was going down. The little one watched at first with horror and moved out of the way before she squished him. Then he appeared to be basking in pure joy of  seeing the big dog epically fail. Both of them got up. No barking, no looking back with pride……..they did their business and came back to their nice warm beds to lick their proverbial wounds.

After witnessing this comic relief, I walked back to the den.  It is then I noticed there was not only the one Raven at the top of the tree, there were now about five or six Ravens clucking and chuckling like little hens. I guess the one at the top called for the others to watch the morning entertainment. Yep, I think the Common Ravens have a wicked sense of humor.

Note: To all concerned, it is 8:10 on Sunday night.  I have this scheduled for publish on Monday .  So far so good. My tummy ache went away, no headache and everyone in the house is doing well.  I think I am in the clear….we are in the clear.    On a serious note,  I really was scared and I do appreciate any prays that were prayed for us.  That was some pretty heavy guilt.  Thank you my friends

aMusing Mondays: Taste Like Chicken

In 2005 Hubs, The Daughter, Son2 and three dogs moved into our family built home. At first, we had construction ground. Ya know, dirt, grass, dirt, grass, bump, tree, dirt, grass, etc. My father in law did all the excavating and to his credit he left more grass than dirt. This lead to a full grass lawn within a year. And that is when it all began.

One afternoon Hubs and I were cutting the grass. Every time I got off the mower, I would fall into a hole. These holes would always have an underground tunnel attached to them which was evident from the turned up dirt on top of the ground. Some of the holes were small and some, like the ones I kept falling in, were huge. I could not figure out what type of animal would make both large and small holes. Finally, I decided it had to be moles. Being from the south, that was a critter I was familiar with. However, these trails were so much longer and wider than what I had been accustomed to. I hike a lot around my neighborhood and I would spot thousands of tiny holes with underground trails attached to them. DANG! We were infested. When I hike I almost always take my dogs, Mutt, Jeff and Lucy. They love to go any place outside and I like their awareness, it keeps me on my toes.

This particular day I was trying to get home before the rain started. I was hootin’ and hollerin’ for the dogs to keep up. As I got to our driveway, I looked around for the them. They were no where to be found. Lucy was my oldest, at 17 pounds she was one of the smallest, and the love of my life. We were perfectly in sync with each other so for her to not be at my side was unusual. There had been some sightings of mountain lions close to our neighborhood and I was not about to lose one or both of my dogs like that. I had to back track. They were not on the road so that meant getting back in to the woods. I followed my footsteps back until I spotted them, well one of them. As I turned the bend, I noticed Lucy jumping up and down into the air then she would dart back and forth like an out of control wind up toy. I could see her stop and run back over to the other dog, Mutt, and soon after it would start all over again. I had never seen either of my dogs act like this before so to say I approached cautiously would be an accurate statement. As I got closer, I saw my Lucy covered in dirt. I’m not talking ’bout a little dirt; I’m talking dirt stuck to her wet nose, in her runny allergy eyes, in her ears and all over her body. It was stuck to and in every cavity she had. Then I saw why she was in such a state. My big dog, 70 pound Mutt, was digging in the dirt like a high speed auger. Dirt was flying as far as four feet back and at least 2 feet high. I watched them for a while to try to figure out what they were after. I would notice that every time Mutt would tire the little one, Lucy, would run to the big hole and start sniffing. It was not one of those dainty sniff, sniff, kind of sniffs. It was the kind that you would see on the cartoons. Ya’ know, the animal would sniff the hole so hard it would suck up everything under the ground into its nose. Hence, all the dirt on her nose, which was now caked so thick that she’d lost her nostrils. As soon as they saw me, they went into a frenzy. Mutt jumped up and started digging like the wind with an occasional pause to see if I were watching her. Lucy was running after the dirt trying to catch it in mid-air. Then all of a sudden I saw some kind of critter fly by as if it had been shot out of a cannon. Lucy was all ready in flight when she caught it. Then she ran like the devil under a bush. Big dog, Mutt, had no idea that Lucy had claimed the prize and was off enjoying the fruits of Mutt’s labor. Mutt was still digging, digging and Lucy was munching, munching. It was not long before Mutt stopped to smell the hole. Immediately her head pops UP and she looks around for Lucy. She knew she had been duped. She starts running in circles trying to find her. Soon they were both in the bushes. Out they came, Lucy was caring what looked like a big ole’ fat tailless rat with Mutt hot on her paws. I made her stop and drop. UGH! A half eaten something. It looked like a grayish, stubby tailed ratlike-thingy. I gave Lucy the go ahead and by the time we got home she had eaten it all. Poor Mutt couldn’t do a thing but watch all of her hard work go down Lucy’s throat. Lucy was looking at Mutt, with those cute twinkly eyes, as if to say, “Tastes like chicken.”

After I got home, I asked Hubs what the heck it was. He called it a Vole. It turns out these critters eat tree roots. They leave hundreds, if not thousands, of holes and trails all through your yard. It is suggested that a trap be used to catch them. Or you can use poison….UGH! Or you can do like me and turn your dogs on them. No yucky traps to empty, no killing of innocent critters with the poison, just good old fun for your dogs. You may even experience a decrease in your pet food budget. Of course, there is that little “large holes to fall into” problem. But hey, the dogs are happy.

A sad note: Kazooie, aka Lucy, died November 20, 2010. It is a hard thing to lose one’s shadow. I still love, remember, and miss her antics. The best dog I ever had. I love you sweet baby girl.

Fundamental Fridays: Everybody Dies Famous In A Small Town

 

I know I am late Sorry. 😉

 

I love living in a small town but sometimes I just want to escape.  Like when the cattle trucks come through our little village and stop at the gas station across the street from me.  It does not take long for the cows to start mooing.  They are calling out to me.  They know I’m here and they can feel my pity for them.  They are mooing my name Ruuuuuuth, Ruuuuuuuth over and over again.  They sound so scared, pitiful  and helpless. Don’t get me wrong I am a steak eater but I am an animal lover more, especially to the ones that know my name.  On more than one occasion I have thought about sneaking over there and unlatching the door.  I would shout be free, run free, get the heck out of that truck don’t you know what is coming?  I have gone as far as to walk outside to get a better look see and strategize my plans.

Some ideas are….

1.  Wait until the driver goes inside to get his cup of coffee then creep over to the truck and open the door. Then run like heck back to the store where I work.  I could fake it when the local PoPo ask me if I saw anything.  I could tell them  a band of very tiny forest people  stood on one another shoulders to release the bovine.  Then I would have my friends claim I was insane and I don’t know what I was talking about much less where I am at.

2.  Wait until the driver goes to get his coffee and a burrito then race over like The Flash and blow the lock with c4.  Okay you got me I have no idea what c4 is other than it is an explosive they have used on NCIS.  More than likely I would blow up the cows and that would defeat my purpose.  But what a heck of a steak and shake party that would be. What am I saying?

3.  Wait until the driver goes in to get his cup of coffee, burrito and uses the bathroom.  Run over pick the lock then one at a time guide each cow into one of my storage units that are right next door to the gas station.  Of the ones that can’t fit, I could tie them up in peoples yards.  I can put straw hats and spots on them to make them look like yard art.

4.  Wait until the driver goes into get his cup of coffee, burrito, uses the bathroom and flirt with the little ladies that work there.  Unhitch the trailer and hook it to my truck.  Haul them off to a undisclosed field where they can be happy and roam the country side  never more to worry.

The only thing that stops me is the thought of having to face Hubs.  Oh and I guess my friends might have a few words to say like :”ARE YOU CRAZY?” and “I just don’t know who you are anymore!”  The Daughter would hang her head in shame. I would get a reputation of being a cow hugger (that I would not mind).  Do they still hang people for cattle rustling?

I think I will just invest in a great pair of ear plugs.  I can pop them in as soon as I hear/smell the truck coming.  All I know is that I have to do something or one day you all will be seeing a headline about a crazed woman that reads, “Who let the cows out? WHO WHO WHO WHO?”

 

Now this story may or may not have been amusing but if truth be known…I REALLY DO WANT TO LET THE COWS OUT.

aMusing Monday: WOW, It Is True!

I love those scented softsoap shower gels. Not only does it make your skin feel great, they can make bubbles for miles in a jetted tub; and they have an aromatherapy effect that can rival any spa. Really, I can’t say enough about them. Tonight I needed a memory to kick in so I could stop fretting about what to write for the blog.  It seems there are two sure fire ways to get my mind in gear and that is a snow storm or a warm bubble bath……..

The bathroom had a heavenly aroma of cucumber with melon and pomegranate oil. The bubbles were at least 18 inches high.  The dogs opted out of the bath time show tonight so there were no worrisome whines to get in the tub with me. Nothing at all to cloud the mind.

(insert cricket sounds here…no really you need to make the sound) 

I could not get my head in the game. My mind was blank.  It was not long before my eyes came to a rest on the faucet to the tub. I got to thinking about those old television shows and movies.  You know, the ones with the hot chickie in the tub and she has her toe stuck in the faucet. How in the world does a real person get their toe stuck in such a large opening? And so starts the stupidity of it all.

I tried it. I stuck my toe in and out it fell.

Hummm.

It entered my mind that if this were Myth Busters (a TV show about science), they would keep trying until they proved it to be plausible or busted.  At that moment, I decided to really give this as much effort as Jamie or Adam would have given it on their show. I schooched down a little bit to get a better angle and poked it back in.

Nothing, it fell right back out.

I wiggled down more and crammed my toe way in there and left it. It started to feel like it was going to work. I left it for a few minutes longer, then it hit me. If my toe really does get stuck, my husband is going to have to help me get out of it. The first 10 years we were married he thought I was one of the smartest women alive. ( I…am was a fantastic actress ) In the last ten years he has changed his mind. It appears he might be right because the next thing I do is pull my toe and it’s stuck.

WOW it’s true!

No problem, I will just relax and it will fall out. NOT. I laid there thinking about this situation I got myself into. I think, maybe it is like Chinese handcuffs. So I push it in further! Yeah, not like Chinese handcuffs. It now hits me I am really STUCK. I can’t call my husband I just can’t! I decide to stand up. That in itself was a little bizarre. Arms and legs flailing in the air trying to stand with one foot stuck and soap bubbles everywhere.  Finally, I found myself standing but I was at a loss as to what to do. I thought maybe if I can twist the faucet upward, then I could pour some of that Pomegranate oil in the space between my toe and the metal. To get it facing upward, I had to turn toward the back wall.  This was both good and bad.  I could now reach the oil at the back of the tub but I found myself in an awkward position when I tried to apply it to the hole.  I finally figured it out, poured it in and waited.  About that time, the dogs started frantically scratching the door trying to get in.  I guess all the splashing to stand up gave them some cause for alarm.  I had to calm them down but I couldn’t get to the door to let them in.  What to do?  Someone was going to hear them and come to find out what all the panic was about.  Two minutes into their frenzy, I hear tippy tappy, tippy tappy, footsteps are coming my way.

A feeling of dredge over came me with every approaching foot step.  I start pulling with all my might to get my toe out.  The sound was getting louder and heavier.  It went from tippy tappy, tippy tappy, to thump tap, thump tap of dead weight. It was a walk of purpose.  A forceful walk on a mission.    OMGosh, it was my husband!   NO, NO, NO.  Terror starts to over take me.  It was all I could do not to pee myself and then… time slowed ddd ooo www nnn.   I started seeing things in slow-mo and could barely hear the approaching doom.  In true Macgruber style, I grabbed the belt to my robe slid it under my ankle and gave it a yank  to end all yanks.  Power that I have not felt since I was a young adult overcame me. And just as the door knob starts to turn, out it pops and down I go.

The dogs rush in frantic and panting.  My mind regains its focus and I  scrambled to grab my robe when all of a sudden the door closes. I never saw a face.  Who ever it was did not even bother to poke their head in.   I put my robe on and poked my head out just in time to see my daughter turning the corner and hear her  mumble that she was tired of hearing the dogs beg for me day in and day out.  “Why do I have to DO everything?” she said as she turned out of sight.

Such relief!  Not only is my toe free, free, free at last, but my husband will  never be the wiser.

I have to say this experiment proved VERY pausible!  I will never try that again! 

Now, after telling you all this, I feel I need to get in there and do something smart in front of my husband!

Bye yaw

aMusing Monday: WOW, It Is True!

I love those scented softsoap shower gels. Not only does it make your skin feel great, they can make bubbles for miles in a jetted tub; and they have an aromatherapy effect that can rival any spa. Really, I can’t say enough about them. Tonight I needed a memory to kick in so I could stop fretting about what to write for the blog. It seems there are two sure fire ways to get my mind in gear and that is a snow storm or a warm bubble bath……..

The bathroom had a heavenly aroma of cucumber with melon and pomegranate oil. The bubbles were at least 18 inches high. The dogs opted out of the bath time show tonight so there were no worrisome whines to get in the tub with me. Nothing at all to cloud the mind.

(insert cricket sounds here…no really you need to make the sound)

I could not get my head in the game. My mind was blank. It was not long before my eyes came to a rest on the faucet to the tub. I got to thinking about those old television shows and movies. You know, the ones with the hot chickie in the tub and she has her toe stuck in the faucet. How in the world does a real person get their toe stuck in such a large opening? And so starts the stupidity of it all.

I tried it. I stuck my toe in and out it fell.

Hummm.

It entered my mind that if this were Myth Busters (a TV show about science), they would keep trying until they proved it to be plausible or busted. At that moment, I decided to really give this as much effort as Jamie or Adam would have given it on their show. I schooched down a little bit to get a better angle and poked it back in.

Nothing, it fell right back out.

I wiggled down more and crammed my toe way in there and left it. It started to feel like it was going to work. I left it for a few minutes longer, then it hit me. If my toe really does get stuck, my husband is going to have to help me get out of it. The first 10 years we were married he thought I was one of the smartest women alive. ( I…am was a fantastic actress ) In the last ten years he has changed his mind. It appears he might be right because the next thing I do is pull my toe and it’s stuck.

WOW it’s true!

No problem, I will just relax and it will fall out. NOT. I laid there thinking about this situation I got myself into. I think, maybe it is like Chinese handcuffs. So I push it in further! Yeah, not like Chinese handcuffs. It now hits me I am really STUCK. I can’t call my husband I just can’t! I decide to stand up. That in itself was a little bizarre. Arms and legs flailing in the air trying to stand with one foot stuck and soap bubbles everywhere. Finally, I found myself standing but I was at a loss as to what to do. I thought maybe if I can twist the faucet upward, then I could pour some of that Pomegranate oil in the space between my toe and the metal. To get it facing upward, I had to turn toward the back wall. This was both good and bad. I could now reach the oil at the back of the tub but I found myself in an awkward position when I tried to apply it to the hole. I finally figured it out, poured it in and waited. About that time, the dogs started frantically scratching the door trying to get in. I guess all the splashing to stand up gave them some cause for alarm. I had to calm them down but I couldn’t get to the door to let them in. What to do? Someone was going to hear them and come to find out what all the panic was about. Two minutes into their frenzy, I hear tippy tappy, tippy tappy, footsteps are coming my way.

A feeling of dredge over came me with every approaching foot step. I start pulling with all my might to get my toe out. The sound was getting louder and heavier. It went from tippy tappy, tippy tappy, to thump tap, thump tap of dead weight. It was a walk of purpose. A forceful walk on a mission. OMGosh, it was my husband! NO, NO, NO. Terror starts to over take me. It was all I could do not to pee myself and then… time slowed ddd ooo www nnn. I started seeing things in slow-mo and could barely hear the approaching doom. In true Macgruber style, I grabbed the belt to my robe slid it under my ankle and gave it a yank to end all yanks. Power that I have not felt since I was a young adult overcame me. And just as the door knob starts to turn, out it pops and down I go.

The dogs rush in frantic and panting. My mind regains its focus and I scrambled to grab my robe when all of a sudden the door closes. I never saw a face. Who ever it was did not even bother to poke their head in. I put my robe on and poked my head out just in time to see my daughter turning the corner and hear her mumble that she was tired of hearing the dogs beg for me day in and day out. “Why do I have to DO everything?” she said as she turned out of sight.

Such relief! Not only is my toe free, free, free at last, but my husband will never be the wiser.

I have to say this experiment proved VERY pausible! I will never try that again!

Now, after telling you all this, I feel I need to get in there and do something smart in front of my husband!

Bye yaw

Fundamental Fridays – Elementary My Dear Idiom

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Have you ever wondered where idioms come from? Not idiots, they are born.  I am talking about idioms.

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id·i·om Noun/ˈidēəm/

1. A group of words established by usage as having a meaning not deducible from those of the individual words (e.g., raining cats and dogs).

2. A form of expression natural to a language, person, or group of people: “he had a feeling for phrase and idiom”.

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Okay, the word idiom has been defined but how in the world were they coined?  My daughter hates it when I use idioms.  She complains that she has no idea what I am talking about.  Recently, I  found a few south western idioms that I am not familiar with and I too have no idea what they are talking about.

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For example: 

Slicker than two snails porking in a bucket of snot.  (There was another word used instead of porking but I chose to change it.  Where did this saying come from? )

Or how about this one –   “If ya don’t know awhere’s you’re a goin’, it’d be a good idea not to use your spurs.”   (What does that mean anyway?  I would like to think it means be kind to all, but, who really knows?)

Or  –  “sucking the hind tit”, (What the heck?  Is there an order when it comes to tits?  Is the hind tit the good one or the bad one?  And is this referring to a cows tits? I am so seriously confused)

A few of these western idioms I have never heard before, but I can understand them. 

Don’t squat with your spurs on.  (yep, that one I get)

If all his brains were dynamite, there wouldn’t be enough to blow his nose.  (Yep, I have met folks like that)

If you ain’t making dust, you’re eating it. ( I got this one)

How about, Don’t be a woman that needs a man, be the woman a man needs.  (well I got news for the idiot that coined that phrase.  If we women knew how to deal with the crap a ma….    aahh, never mind )

Now, southern idioms make perfect sense to me.

I’m going to knock you into next week.  (this, to me, does not need explanation.  Is this even an idiom?  It does not even feel like an idiom)

Even a spotted dog looks black at night.  (this means things will look better in the morning)

  That dog won’t hunt.  (meaning it just ain’t going to happen)

The southern language is laced with  hidden meanings.

Ima gunna see a man about a dog.  (that means you don’t want anyone to know where you are going and you don’t want them to follow you)

She is such a lady. (the old saying is, you should never call a lady a b!*ch but you can always call a b!*ch a lady)

And my favorite and probably the most used –   Well, bless your heart.  ( most of the time that means you are stupid or something else that I absolutely will not write.) 

In the south, a minute – is more like a few hours ( that is not too far off from  mountain time)

Around the bend – is about 10 miles from the turn in the road ( 40 miles in the  mountains)

Directly – is when ever I get around to it (they don’t say directly here in the mountains)

Feelin’ poorly – that is southern code for I am hung over. (folks here on the mountain just tell it like it is.. I got a hang over)

And, down yonder –  can be as close as a few feet to as far as the next state. (they don’t say that here either but I sure do get a lot of flack when I use it).

If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch.

If I were any better, I would not know what to do with myself.

If I were any better, I would still be in the bed.

OMGosh, I can’t stop.  How did I get off on this tangent???

I gota stop.

Until next time, practice your idioms not your idiot-ism.

Whacked out Wednesday – A Sunflower Seed By Any Other Name

I may not have mentioned that I throw  deliver mail with my husband but I do, on the two days a week I am not at my other job.  Yes, we are glorified USPS rural postal carriers.   On a good morning we manage to work well together, but on other days we just work.  This was one of those days….

I was running late.  My hair was just not making nice.  My clothes were left in the dryer over night and wrinkles were set in hard.  I couldn’t find my shoes and my makeup was half on.   “WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!” encourages my husband.  Of course, “encourages” that is my sarcasm shining through.   I throw everything down, walk out with one shoe in hand and an attitude that would make a bad dog run.

“Large letters to the back,” he croaks.  “Get busy,” he says, while doing nothing!  Or at least nothing I can see.  Okay, now I’m about to go postal on him…

Humph! I yelled…in my head. You see, I am a firm believer in picking your battles. I looked at him and contemplated going for the big one…instead I decide to walk away, cool off and get some sunflower seeds from the local corner store. I really like sunflower seeds.    They are nature at its finest and when humans add the salt it sets my soul at ease.  I try not to eat them often, but when mad they do the trick to occupy my thoughts and keep me from ringing my other half’s neck!

Our drive started pretty good.  Things had calmed down and I was getting into the music while sucking on a handful of seeds.  Before I knew it, my toes are tapping out the beat of the current song. Things were looking up until the man I married, the man that saw me getting ready this morning in frustration, the man I just gave a stern look to only minutes ago, looks at me with a look that said…THAT SAID…well I don’t know what it said, but I didn’t like the look!

Again, to battle or not to battle…decisions decisions.   I came to the conclusion that I would wait to fight the good fight another day.  It was already a hot, hot day and tempers flying would just make it all worse.  As I was pondering the question of whether to talk it out or not, I realized I had a hand full of empty sunflower seed shells in my hand and nowhere to put them.  So I rolled down the window and took all that rage I was feeling at the moment, wadded it up into those sunflower shells then I let ‘er rip with the biggest throw I could muster.

OMGOSH!  It landed on the car next to us!    The poor man’s window was down!  If any thing flew inside, he didn’t notice.  I think he was more concerned with the connect the dot puzzle of seeds on his windshield and car door.  He sort of gave me the same look I just saw on my hubby’s face.  I gave him the most apologetic look I could.  I stuck out my bottom lip and shrugged my shoulders.  I think I may have even batted my eyes a time or two in hopes that he would forgive my stupidity..   I then give a panicked look over to my husband.  I realize he saw nothing, notta, no clue as to what I just did.  He turned on his blinker and drove off.  I turned to look back at the poor man as we drove away.  I could not see his face because of his wipers racing at 90 miles an hour.  I keep watching in the rear view mirror.  All I could imagine was the sight of him pulling up beside us and cussing my poor, poor husband out.  I was beginning to think that all of this crumby day was all my doings.  Our next units of boxes were just ahead, and still no sight of the victim…. I mean gentleman.   I go about putting packages in their respective boxes, all the while, looking over my shoulder.  Ten minutes later, my heart is finally starting to settle down.  I grab the last of the out going mail and look up to find that polka dotted seed car driving S-L-O-W-L-Y by.  I pray he just keeps on driving.  I mouth, “I’m so sorry.”  He gives me a look, slightly waves and drives on.  My husband is a witness to this exchange and I can see he wants to ask what it was all about.  I have no idea what kind of look was on my face but it must have been good because he went about his business and never said a word.

I still look for that gentleman from time to time.  I have yet to see him and if I ever do see him again I will apologize profusely, beg for forgiveness and divert my husband away from the whole conversation.