Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
IS IT 2008 YET?
Well Christmas is over, and I am always glad. Not because of what Christmas stands for, don't get me wrong. But for what it has become to stand for. All the commercialism and guilt heaped on us. About the 15th of every Dec. I start to feel a little panic feeling in me. Not sure just what it means, but I always dread Christmas. I guess it holds too many memories of what was ,and should have been, and never will be. As families shift and change over time things get complicated.
I end up most of the time, letting it sneak up on me and then its like, Oh, my! Christmas is tomorrow and I haven't sent cards or bought any gifts! Darn. Well maybe next year!! Well I am not really quite that bad, but almost. I do manage to get gift cards out to the grand kids before Christmas. BUT, never get to spend Christmas with them, and rarely get a thank you.
Well this is a really Ba Humbug post isn't it. I just know that Christmas is like this for lots of people and we are afraid to talk about it because it makes you feel like a bad person for not having all this warm fuzzy feeling. Instead you feel guilty, feel little or no family connection. In my "previous" life, it was about cooking lots of goodies and indulging in the fudge, divinity, and cookies. Putting up a tree and decorating it. Family around and the excitement of buying presents and watching them be opened and the mess and clutter and laying around playing with the "toys". Now that was warm and fuzzy. Now its like, "Oh, lets eat out, so you won't have to cook or do dishes" Right! no mess or clutter in my life. Come home to a clean house, no gift paper on the floor because there were no gifts, no left overs to snack on, because nothing was cooked. Well it sort of chokes me up, really.
This year I did cook most of the dinner for Sunday and had siblings over and it was fun. We did a traditional turkey dinner and it was nice to have everyone around the table together.
Well I have wallowed in my self pity long enough. The new year is coming, along with another birthday soon after. Maybe I can post a grumpy post about that later!!
I end up most of the time, letting it sneak up on me and then its like, Oh, my! Christmas is tomorrow and I haven't sent cards or bought any gifts! Darn. Well maybe next year!! Well I am not really quite that bad, but almost. I do manage to get gift cards out to the grand kids before Christmas. BUT, never get to spend Christmas with them, and rarely get a thank you.
Well this is a really Ba Humbug post isn't it. I just know that Christmas is like this for lots of people and we are afraid to talk about it because it makes you feel like a bad person for not having all this warm fuzzy feeling. Instead you feel guilty, feel little or no family connection. In my "previous" life, it was about cooking lots of goodies and indulging in the fudge, divinity, and cookies. Putting up a tree and decorating it. Family around and the excitement of buying presents and watching them be opened and the mess and clutter and laying around playing with the "toys". Now that was warm and fuzzy. Now its like, "Oh, lets eat out, so you won't have to cook or do dishes" Right! no mess or clutter in my life. Come home to a clean house, no gift paper on the floor because there were no gifts, no left overs to snack on, because nothing was cooked. Well it sort of chokes me up, really.
This year I did cook most of the dinner for Sunday and had siblings over and it was fun. We did a traditional turkey dinner and it was nice to have everyone around the table together.
Well I have wallowed in my self pity long enough. The new year is coming, along with another birthday soon after. Maybe I can post a grumpy post about that later!!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
A naughty joke from by big sister!
OK, I promised to post this since my sister doesn't have access to her blog anymore.
Do you know what Viagra is made of??
Well here is the breakdown.
You may not want to use it anymore after this!
3% Vit E
2% Asprin
2% Ibuprofen
1% Vit. C
5% Spray Starch
87% Fix-a-Flat
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I can't believe I put this info out there!
Not much time to write any blogs, Been busy yet with moving into new house. Really dragging it out aren't we? We finally listed the farm with an agent. We did show it 5 times ourselves with just our sign on the corner. And folks wanted it but most had property to sell first. So now I am ready for that out of state person who has already sold their property and have cash in hand! I just posted a picture here of my little dinette area in the kitchen. You can see the new hardwood floor that took so long to get done. But I really like it. The rug I found to put under the little antique table has a rooster in the center. But mostly I just liked the colors.
Had a scare of a repeat of last winter's ice storm but it went mostly north of us, we got just a little damage from it. Some folks are still waiting for power to get hooked up after a week later.
Book store business has been a little slow but I think it was this time last year. Everyone is out shopping at Walmart for all that stuff made in China. My E-Bay store has been pretty consistant with daily sales so I am pleased with that. I try to list a few books every day to keep the inventory up. Anyone interested, the site is:
http://stores.ebay.com/read-again-books53 So everyone go there and order some cool books!!!
And in case I don't get back this week, Merry Christmas to all.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Are we Crabby??
I DON'T USUALLY ADD THESE DITTY'S TO MY BLOG BUT THIS ONE WAS TO GOOD TO PASS BY:
This is a question that is on very MAN'S mind and some women but here's your answer to why women are so craby.
We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John . Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee'd our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while theOB ? says, 'Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar . Calm down and push. 'Just one more good push' (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
%$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their 'Teen Years.' Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned 'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...
So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the 'weaker sex?' Yeah right. Bite me.
This is a question that is on very MAN'S mind and some women but here's your answer to why women are so craby.
We started to 'bud' in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find that anything that came in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage was having sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.
Then it was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John . Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a whole watermelon and we pee'd our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while theOB ? says, 'Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hearmeroar . Calm down and push. 'Just one more good push' (more like 10), warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
%$#*@*#!* hubby and doctor square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10 pound bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that when all that 'cute' wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their 'Teen Years.' Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
So we progress into the grand finale: 'The Menopause,' the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned 'buds' or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...
So, while I love being a woman, 'Womanhood' would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby. You think women are the 'weaker sex?' Yeah right. Bite me.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Never ask a man the size of his spread!
Now that I have your attention, this is the title of a cute little book that I found. It is "A cowgirl's guide to life" it is full of cute quotes.
Whenever you go away, always come back before they learn to get on without you.
Alot of what a man knows, a woman knows better. (I love that one)
Horses always start, they never run out of gas, and they will not get you greasy.
Men, you can't live with 'em, and you can't shoot 'em.
Ok enough for now. Still real busy, will it ever slow up? Guess not till we get all moved and the 20 acres sold. Going to finally list with an agent. We have showned it several times, just from our sign on the corner. Still have alot to put away and still moving stuff from the farm. It helps to take a load at a time and find a place for it before he take more. Will take some pictures of the kitchen now that it is back together again. Hope everyone is having a great weekend even if the weather is icky.
Whenever you go away, always come back before they learn to get on without you.
Alot of what a man knows, a woman knows better. (I love that one)
Horses always start, they never run out of gas, and they will not get you greasy.
Men, you can't live with 'em, and you can't shoot 'em.
Ok enough for now. Still real busy, will it ever slow up? Guess not till we get all moved and the 20 acres sold. Going to finally list with an agent. We have showned it several times, just from our sign on the corner. Still have alot to put away and still moving stuff from the farm. It helps to take a load at a time and find a place for it before he take more. Will take some pictures of the kitchen now that it is back together again. Hope everyone is having a great weekend even if the weather is icky.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)