We Got Cows

Not our cows, mind you, but my neighbors’ cows.  About a month ago 2 of his heifers (a heifer is a cow that’s not had a calf yet – I’m so farm-y now) got into our property, and had fun playing in the pond and grazing on our forage oats until he called them back home and he fixed the break in the fence.

Well, yesterday one of his gigantic bulls simply walked right into and over the electric fence in the back corner of our property.  He ambled about, looking lost and scared, until he found two of my grandkids and thought they might be just the humans to help him find his way back home.

They weren’t.  In fact, they were terrified and ran to the house excitedly pointing and yelling about the cow in the yard.

My daughter-in-law decided to take the kids back to the woods and see if she could locate the cow.

She found him.  And he found them…..delightful to chase.  When I heard them running and screaming I went outside to find no sign of the bull, but the grandkids had made it to safety and daughter-in-law was bent over double gasping for breath.

“One thing..” she huffed, “I’ve learned..(pant, pant)…is that I cannot ‘run for my life’ anymore. I’m so out of shape,  I just kept thinking I’m going to die by cow.”  Hubby, the ever-helpful, turned to the grandkids and said, “See, kids, you don’t have to run faster than the cow, you just have to run faster than your mother.”

I thought it was funny.  Actually, everyone thought it was funny.

Our neighbor came and got his bull.  Apparently, this one is very friendly and was likely chasing everyone as a form of play.

I don’t know about you, but my idea of ‘play’ does not include attempting to NOT get trampled by a playful bull.

Safety tip – you know for the next time you encounter a cow that isn’t yours – do NOT RUN from him/her.  Stand your ground, and if he’s charging at you, sidestep at the last possible second and get something solid between you and the animal.

Or, I could just send my daughter-in-law to your house – provided you’re in better shape than she is – and you know, you could just let nature take its course.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!

So, had 2 of the granddaughters last week for a few days on the farm.

One of them caught a cold, and when she sneezed all over me all I could think of was this……

I feel so funky…

This..THIS Is Why…

…why I love my husband. so. very. much.

Picture a blender, filled to the brim with:

1. Milk
2. Greek yogurt
3. apple
4. banana
5. raspberry
6. strawberry
7. blueberry
8. honey
9. protein powder

And by “filled” I mean 8 cups full.  The above is what goes into my blender every morning to make the smoothies we drink/eat for breakfast every day.

This morning was no different, at least not until the moment when I pushed the button and the bottom of the glass jar separated from the plastic fluglebinder what screws onto the bottom and fits over the pin that makes the whirly-whoosh go ’round.

It’s very technical, so try to keep up.

Suddenly it looked like some unfortunate soul had blown chunks all over my stove, the counter, the tiny space between the two, the blender and me.

“Feckity, feckity, feckity, FUCK!” I screamed.

Hubby, from the bedroom said, “What happened?”

To which I replied, “The blender came apart and there’s blender-puke everywhere!”

He came out of the room, obviously not able to grasp the concept of “blender-puke” and upon surveying the carnage said, “But, what happened? I mean how?”

“I don’t know,” I said, grabbing paper towels to try and stem the river before it hit the floor. “but, it looks like it separated.”

“How?” He asked, his voice registering agitation.

“Look,” I began, getting pissed, “I don’t have time to argue with you about how it happened right now.”

“What? You can’t multi-task?” He said, his face a deadpan.

I started to giggle, and then he started to giggle, and then we cleaned up the barf.

And that is why I love him. He makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to.

And you thought I was going to relay some sappy story about hearts and flowers and shit like that, didn’t you?  It’s like you don’t even know me.

 

Texts With a 4-yr. Old

One of my granddaughters is 4, and this is what happens when she gets a hold of her Daddy’s cell phone.

First, she figures out how to get to the text message screen, then she figures out how to find me in the Contact list, and then she starts sending me texts.   This kid is brilliant, I tell you, just brilliant.

But, I may be prejudiced.  Below is a screenshot of the actual conversation.

You be the judge.

I don’t know, I think it’s rather poetic.  Don’t you?  Look at how she cleverly inserted an actual word – derided – into the message, and then left me wondering…am I being derided? Did I do something that deserved such an outburst? Or is she simply pondering the condition of man, and his inhumanity to his fellows?  Or is it just ‘Ed’? And who is this Ed person anyway?

The kid is a genius.

 

I DID It!!

I made it through a nearly 2-hr shopping trip, at my favorite grocery store without:

1. Singing very loudly, and off key, in the produce section – or any other section for that matter.
2. Responding to a phone call/text with a blue streak of profanity that looked like I was berating myself

I did dance a little jig when I realized my accomplishments, though. And, no I didn’t do that in the store.  I did that in the parking lot to some wide-berth stares.

But, that doesn’t count, right? Right?

And Uh-One, And Uh-Two…

I love music.

No, I mean I really, really love music.

I have two genres that are tops on my list.

#1 – Blues and Swing; from Billie Holiday to Voodoo Daddy

#2 – Celtic; from the Celtic Women to..well, everyone else, it’s not a large pool here in the States

Numbers three through elebenty-hunnert include gospel, classic rock, Rat Pack, and country.

The other day, as I was shopping, I was listening to Pandora radio on my headset.  I have one station called “Thumbprint”.  It’s fairly new (to me), but I’m sure you kids have seen it.  It takes music you’ve “thumbed up” and lumps it all together in one station.

(An aside, you young’uns don’t remember but back in the day radio stations were mostly AM and most of them played a wide variety of music.  It wasn’t until electricity came along, and FM was born, that specific stations with specific music were created.)

I was getting my groceries to the crooning voices of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, and tapping my feet to the huge sounds of Voodoo Daddy and Brian Setzer.

I was in the produce aisle when a beautiful hymn called “Down To The River to Pray”, sung by the incomparable Alison Krauss, came on and I stopped and closed my eyes for a second.

Then I started to sing.

You know how when you have headphones on you think you’re being really quiet when, in fact, you’re being exceedingly loud and everyone around you notices only you don’t because you’re so caught up in the moment and sure at any second someone from a major label is going to spring up from the fruit display and offer you a million dollar contract on the spot because you’re the most amazing singer since singing was invented and angels weep every time you use those pipes?

Well, let me tell you, it’s every bit as interesting as finding out you left the house without pants again.  Except with fewer recording contracts.

Totally busted while belting out a song in the middle of the produce aisle?  Can check that one off my bucket list.

 

Then, This Happened….

I’m working on a long, whiny, right-now-incomprehensible, post on my stepfather’s recent illness and death, and my mother’s insanity.

But, while I’m doing that I just wanted to take a moment and mention something awesome that happened at Pensacola Beach last week.

I was standing in barely-ankle deep water when one of these came swimming up to me…

………only it was much smaller..I’d say 2-3 ft..a juvenile lemon shark.

Swimming in front of the shark, at a much faster and more frantic pace, was a smaller fish so I knew right away that the shark wasn’t interested in my toes.

At least I hoped he wasn’t.

I watched him swim right towards me, then move off to my left at the last second, missing his target as my wiggling toes distracted him.

Hubby came over by me and Bruce (that’s his name, now and really I think it’s fitting we’re on a first-name basis as he and I are practically BFFs even if I did interrupt his lunch) again swam towards me, this time he wasn’t chasing anything and as he broke off at the last moment we made eye contact.

It was weird, scary, fascinating, and I loved it.  Later, I realized that if he’d bitten me not only would Bruce be off the Christmas card list forever, but it would’ve hurt.  A. Lot.

But, he didn’t and we shared a moment and now I’m pretty much an expert on juvenile lemon sharks so ask me anything.

Just don’t ask me to go swimming at night off Pensacola Beach.  I think Bruce may hold a grudge.

These Didn’t Happen in The Same Day, But Definitely In Close Proximity To Each Other and My Life is Weird

So I went to the doctor for a bizarre rash-thingy (that’s as much detail as you get) and she walks into the room hunched over like she’s 900 yrs. old.

Me: “What the…???”

Dr. Derby: “I joined Roller Derby, and somehow tweaked my back and the last patient I saw…I don’t know, suddenly I can’t stand up and it hurts.”

Me: “Does it hurt all the time? Or just when you move? Any numbness or tingling in your legs or feet?”

*doc and I exchange weird looks*

Me: “Well that was odd.”

Dr. Derby: *laughing* “Nah..you’re the back expert here”

She sat down in a chair, only she didn’t sit, she kind of rolled backwards still bent nearly in half.

I couldn’t stifle the giggles any longer.

Dr. Derby: *giggling* “Shut the f*ck up. I’m f*cking fine over here”

Me: “On the list of things you are, doc, ‘f*cking fine’ doesn’t even make the top 100”

(…and yes, she’s that cool..she drops the “F” bomb on me and is a roller derby jammer – and that’s why I have been going to her for 15 yrs and will till one of us dies..no offense, but I’m kind of hoping that ‘someone’ isn’t me)

Later that week……..

The frat boys across the street thought it’d be cool to start a ginormous out-of-control bonfire in their front yard.

The police and fire marshall disagreed on the ‘cool’ factor.

The fire marshall had his boys put the fire out with one of the high-pressure hoses.

The frat boys are still cleaning mud off the front of their house.

Idiots.

What the Hell?

Has it really been over three weeks since I posted?

And now I don’t have time.

*draws deep breath*

Between now and February I have

12 holiday gifts to make

11 parties to duck attend

10 bottles of wine to (ahem) sample

9 birthdays

8 anniversaries

7 swansongs

6 geese to stuff

5 golden opportunities to place foot in mouth

4 calls to make

3 french pastries to eat

2 dove bars to inhale when no one’s looking

And a car trip to the country!

I wish I was kidding, but I’m not.

See you sometime in 2015…or sooner if something besides this happens.

I’ll leave you with this from the out-of-context theater of Thanksgiving at my house…

Hubby to 5-yr. old grandson:  Do NOT hit people with the gun.

5-yr. old grandson (after a moment’s contemplation): But, I can shoot them, right?

Hubby: Of course. Just don’t hit them.

……….aaaaaaaaaaaaaand scene…………….

Merry Chrishanukwanzaabox to all and to all a good night!!

In Which I Am Not Part of Her World

Last week I had to go give ALL THE BLOOD…that may be an exaggeration, but as the phlebotomist filled vial after vial it didn’t feel like an exaggeration.

I digress.

Let’s start in the waiting room of the lab where the BIG SIGN said that appointments took precedence over walk-ins, something the online module had told me when I made my appointment.

There was only one other person in the room at the time, so I figured I would only be there a few minutes, since you know I made an appointment and all.

Why do I always think the world is orderly and things will go according to The Plan?  Because, it almost never does and you know by now I should have figured that out.

Some people never learn, and by ‘some people’ I mean me.

The door to The Back opened, and out came two guys dressed in a uniform just like the one guy still waiting.

“Did it take long?” Guy waiting asked.

“Nah, not too long.” One of guys leaving said.

A few minutes later, another two guys from the same place came out.

This is where I began to catch on.  Some company sent over ALL THE EMPLOYEES for some kind of testing that day.

So much for having an appointment.

And then, this happened…

A pixie-ish elderly lady, with a bright smile and twinkling eyes, came in on the arm of a man about her age whom I assumed was her husband.  They signed in and sat down to wait.

“Why are we here?” asked Pixie

“You’re having blood tests.” Husband answered.

A few minutes went by, in which time every person coming and going from the lab got a cheerful “Good Morning” from Pixie, followed by an equally-cheerful, “How are you?” to anyone who hesitated in front of her.

“Whose house is this?” asked Pixie after a while

“No one’s house, you’re giving some blood.” sighed Husband.

Pixie looked at the television for a few minutes.

“Why are we here?”

“Because. You. Are. Having. Blood. Tests.” Husband said through gritted teeth.

Pixie went back to greeting people as they came in the door.

By this time, I was trying hard not to giggle at Husband’s plight.  I have been there, and done that, and I know it was not so funny when I was living it.  But damned if it wasn’t funny from the outside in.

About then the door to The Back opened, and two more guys came out along with a tech who called Pixie’s name.

Pixie bounced up, and said…”Oh I’m Pixie, but I think there’s been a mistake.” and pointing to her Husband she continued, “He’s the one giving blood today.”