Punch it Margret

snow_day_10

The picture was a couple of winters ago.  That year we had around 154 inches of snow, or so we’ve been told.  I hate snow but I have to admit it was an awesome year.  At the time, I was not working for the Bird House.  I was helping Mr. M deliver mail.  Unfortunately, no amount of snow can stop the mail so we bundled up and left for work.  It was not long before we pulled up to a set of mailbox units.  I jumped out and put the mail into the respective boxes,  jumped back in the warm truck and make the comment of  how pretty this area was.  This is when I made a fatal error.  I asked, “What is up there?”  He says, “Let me show you.”  Mr. M is always excited to show me where he grew up.  So with a kooky smile, we were off.

We have a 4×4 so trudging around in the snow is not that big of a deal unless it is 4 feet high….which is was.  The area of interest was up a very steep hill and back in the forest.  Little did we know that the 4 feet of snow would soon turn into 6 feet. He kept fighting with the snow trying to get further back in the forest until we ran up a snowbank and that was that.  M gets out of the truck to assess the situation. We are stuck on a narrow road with a steep drop off on the passenger side…that would be my side.  Before we got stuck he was attempting to turn a corner so the truck was heading away from the cliff.   He tries pushing the rear of our 2 ton 4 wheel drive truck in a circle so we could drive out.  And as logic would dictate, it did not work.    He then tells me to get behind the wheel.  He says to put it in reverse and give it gas when he says go.  He then walks to the front of the truck and puts his shoulder into the grill and yells go.  I yelled back, “Are you crazy?  I will run over you for sure!”  All I could see was me backing over the edge and taking Mr. M over with me.   He practically screams at me, “JUST Punch it!”  I was instantly upset.  I slammed it into gear and I punched it!  Thank the lord above it did not work because I put it into gear alright, but I put it in DRIVE and he was in front of the truck pushing!  As soon as I realized what I did I felt like I was going to pee my pants.  I could have killed him and I was not going to let that information slip my lips.  I quickly put it in reverse and tried it again.  By now he is looking at me with disgust and wondering how in the world we are going to get out of this situation to finish our mail route.  The rest of the story is a little fuzzy but in the end we did indeed get out of the snowbank and turned around with Mr. M in one piece.

Contrary to what you may be thinking,  I did not do it on purpose just to prove how right I was.  Truly, I was in a daze and not thinking.  Between him pushing with all he had and the icy snow, my inability to run him over , did not cost him his life… this time.

Ruthie

Fundamental Fridays: How Long

How long?

How long does it take to vent?

At this very moment I can’t remember what in the heck I was venting about but I DO KNOW how long it took because Hubs pointed it out.  3. 7 minutes.  Yep that is right it only took 3.7 minuets to get my point across…..or to run out of gripe.  Dang it.  What was I venting about?  I can’t remember but at the time it was pertinent…I think.

You may ask how I know for certain that is was exactly 3.7 minutes.  Because after several heated discussions of how Hubs never listens to me anymore, he has started pausing the TV to listen to me.

TO HECK I SAY!  Pausing a TV.  A MAN PAUSING A TV?

Yes a husband that is trying and trying hard.

Okay, I had an entire post on this but I hooked up my Bose and plugged in my Playlist then everything became a blur.  The white wine with fish tonight did not help (bottle) to keep my train of thought in line.

Where are the blogging Police when you need them?

Sorry, this is all I got for a Fundamental Friday.

I guess fundamental I need a freedom to vent  that only Fish Almondine and White wine can bring .

Happy Friday all.

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,

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.