Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Second, time for Tell Me Thursday.
Here is my Wordless Wednesday picture of Dylan:
Thankfully before the end of the series, he had it all figure out. (We were beginning to wonder.)
Dylan was seriously calling the glove a "HAAAT" and trying his best to figure out how to make it fit his head. We told ourselves he was just trying to be like the catcher, not just totally
stupid ignorant where baseball is concerned. I mean, the kiddo isn't even two yet. (This was taken during the week of the World Series.)
He even learned how to take it off. (We were so proud.)
Happy Turkey Day and come back later for Thank You Very Much!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Welcome to Wordless Wednesday! Check it out!
Come back tomorrow for Tell Me Thursday for the details behind this picture, also for Thank You Very Much brought to us by Kmama, and probably some other Thanksgiving details throughout the week in general as Aunt Willie & Tonette will be joining in on all the fun this weekend!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
It's Tuesday, so you know what that means! True Story Tuesday brought to you by Mr. Daddy & Rachel at Once Upon A Miracle. Check it out.
"Do You Smell That?"
This past weekend, I was able to get away and do a little shopping at a Wally World that I usually don't get to go to that is like the MEGA Wally World in our area. I was so rockin' the place. Looking at this. Looking at that. You know, just cruisin' the aisles.
Then I smelled it.
It smelled like someone had peed on the floor, or was in desperate need of a bath, or a change or clothes, or like a cat just sprayed somewhere. Just TERRIBLE.
Then it disappeared. Maybe it was all in my
Nope. Smelled it again. Only this time MUCH MUCH stronger.
I am thinking, "Some poor person has had an accident," or something at this point. (And "I am gonna puke cause I need fresh air" cause it was REALLY strong.
Then, I realize what department I am next to in the store, so my brain started churning and my curiosity got the best of me. (Yeah, I am smart like that.) Sure enough, about 3 aisles down, I see them.
About 8 hunters running in for some last minute (or rather mid-hunting) items in the sports/hunting/whatever it is called area.
All huddled around some prized possession, oohing and awwing over it like girls over a baby.. They are SO excited that whoever has found this whatchamajig and that this will surely do the trick, blah blah blah.
The smell? Why, none other than deer pee to lure the male out of the woods, of course. I mean, they probably had deer running into Wally World after them due to the fact that the
smell horrendous odor was so strong. That is all well and good for THE WOODS, but just because Wally World carries EVERYTHING and is open 24/7, that doesn't mean you should come in at any ole time you please. Like when you are covered in animal pee, for example. Time and place for ALL things, fellas.
And I couldn't help but think of Mr. Daddy and just laughed plain out loud because I could SO see him doing exactly the same thing. Of course he would be the ring leader and proud new owner of the whatchamajig. Of course in Mossy Oak design. I hear they even make jock straps. (tee hee, couldn't resist. Thank you SO much He & Me + 3 for mentioning that in the comments in Rachel's Letter of Intent on Friday..)
Head on over to Once Upon A Miracle for more True Story Tuesdays!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Time for Favorite Foto Friday! Now brought to us by Hannah!
This week's theme is "Oh Give Thanks" and I guess this post kind of fits. It is not a Turkey day reference, but a chance for me (us) to look back on Dylan's last year and be so thankful for all the joy he has brought to us in his life and for all we hope to bring to his.
Look how much our Little Boy Boy has grown in just over a year! Can you believe it? Neither can we!
Happy Friday Everyone!
It's Friday, and time for "Letters of Intent" from Julie at The Foursons. Check them out.
Okay, Julie, your letter was the final straw that lead me to write this letter. Rock on! I am not usually so bold, but I have felt led to this particular letter, and when I read her letter, I knew it was time someone awful be addressed. So here goes.
Can't wait til you ROT IN HELL.
You have caused so many people so many problems with your little "wandering the Earth, seeking whom you may devour." I AM SICK OF YOU! SICK of you devouring weakness in people.
I personally cannot wait (and I am SURE I am in a long line of people) to see you thrown into to Lake of Fire FOREVER.
Julie's friend had an aneurysm. She is 35 with 4 kids. (Although I do not think Satan can CAUSE things like this necessarily, he can milk it for all it's worth to him and for his sick, twisted reasons.)
But you know what Satan, (and I happen to know you DO know this) God can and does use things like this for HIS glory, also. He can turn a destroyed Red Car Car into a $250 problem. He can turn an aneurysm into a healing miracle. (Witnessed one myself in a little old lady that lived down the road.)
So while you may be getting your kicks off of every one's misery and pain now, KNOW THIS: YOUR DAY IS COMING AND YOU KNOW IT.
That is worse than the unknown. KNOWING you are going to sit in HELL FOREVER. I would be out causing misery too if I knew that were to be my destiny.
But, alas, IT ISN'T my destiny. Nor is it any one else's who chooses God over you and WE GET THE LAST LAUGH. Only I think by that point, we WON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT YOU. You, Mean old Satan, will not enter our little minds with all the trouble you caused on this Earth, for you will be nothing but a blip in our heads, if that.
So, in closing, Satan, PRAISE THE LORD! You CANNOT defeat me, thanks to Jesus Christ. Thank you isn't even a tip of the ice burg of the words due to Jesus.
Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.
Just wanted to say it again because I KNOW His name makes you and your demons tremble in fear.
A Christian gal who is truly blessed but sick and tired of you hanging around seemingly way too much.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Join in with Kmama in "Thank You Very Much." A chance to whine, cut a shine, complain about whatever you want and just get it all off your chest. Check it out.
To my sister for hitting me in the head with one of Dylan's toys the other day, thank you very much.
To Dylan for BITING MY TOE out of pure old meanness, thank you very much. (And, yes, I know that is BEYOND nasty.)
To Gracie, our
Princess Demon Possessed cat, thank you very much for biting me during a phone conversation with my THERAPIST causing me to scream mid sentence, then explain my scream, only to feel even MORE stupid/crazy.
To Aunt Susie, thank you very much (FOR REAL) for helping out with the photo shoot the other day. Couldn't have done it with out Dylan's "Doo Doo" there to entertain him that long.
To Dylan for calling said Aunt Susie "Doo Doo" at the TOP OF HIS LUNGS at KFC the other day while she went for a refill during dinner, thank you very much. Everyone LOVES it at restaurants when children scream and yell about what they assume is a poop and/or bowel movement related conversation, not knowing this is your loving out at "Susie."
To People Magazine, Johnny Depp is NOT the hottest man of the year. So thank you very much for wasting that spot (and #2) on a so-so man. (Don't get me wrong, I don't Johnny-hate. I think he is alright, but he just doesn't rank #1 for me. Sorry.)
Guess that is all I have to "thank you very much" about for now.
"Dear family and freinds...Well...here I am doing something I said I wouldn't do...emailing photos of myself with no make up on(can't wear it during Taxol due to the first place that a reaction occurs is the face)...I just had to send it because I'm so happy that it's OVER!!! YAY!!! I also would like to report that even thought I've got numbness in my hands and feet that I did a HAPPY DANCE all the way through the chemo dept and straight out the door...they were all laughin at me as I left...I just cant thank the Lord enough for answering all of our prayers and for getting me through this time...Keep those prayers up because I start radiation soon and will still need them...take care everybody...I love you all...Robyn"
We are SO THANKFUL for all the blessings Cuzzin Robyn has had through this treatment and we are sure that they will continue right on through radiation. We love you, Cuzzin Robyn!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Welcome to True Story Tuesday brought to you by Rachel & Mr. Daddy at Once Upon A Miracle. A chance to tell your (mostly) true crazy stories that almost seem to out there to be true. Almost.
First off, let me start off by saying that I have been a bad blogger lately, and hopefully plan to REALLY get back to my normal bloggy schedule soon. Just saying. On to TST.
"Never Thought I'd
Make it Out of Leave Butcher Holler."
Back in the day when I attended Mayo Tech College, my friends and I had class 5 days a week, but 2 of the days had a 3-4 hour gap between classes. We had to be creative to fill that time void. You know, like
studying, catching up on class work, getting ahead roaming all over Johnson and Floyd county. This particular Tuesday or Thursday (don't remember now which it was) we ended up at none other than Butcher Holler.
Doesn't ring a bell? Loretta Lynn. Coal Miners Daughter. Yeah, Butcher Holler is REAL and you can drive ALL the way up to the old place where she drew water. So that we did. It actually is very near the college, except the old roads took a little slow driving.
There is a "town" (aka half a mile stretch) called Van Lear in which Butcher Holler's "exit" lays. It is an old mining town that your car can kiss it's hind end on the curves. Creepy dogs, mining "row" houses, old courthouse and company store, the works. We took off up the infamous holler and decided all gals from our area should see where the good girl got her roots at.
We followed all the turns. We followed all the "Butcher Holler" wooden signs, etc. Finally, after what seemed like hours in teen age time (probably 20 minutes in real life time) we found THE last holler we were supposed to turn up. So here we go, in Renee's little Toyota Celica that we were always getting into trouble in, up Butcher Holler.
It had NO gravels. At ALL. It had rained like a week ago, and the road was STILL nothing but PURE mud. So what do 3 silly teenagers do even though we quickly realize the little Celica isn't handling the mud slide so well? We trod on. We
There were chickens in the road, goats chained up at driveways. Rottweilers in lots 10 feet from mysterious tin buildings, men in coveralls and women in robes on their porches looking at us. The whole nine yards. Even pigs wandering aimlessly. Yes, pigs.
Then, we get there.
Only to be greeted by this lovely hand made sign:
"Don't forget to stop at the first house at the holler to get the keys for the tour."
Don'tcha think they should put that sign, oh, I don't know where, AT THE FIRST HOUSE ON THE HOLLER?
So we park in the "driveway" and get out and look around anyway. (Hey, we didn't pass pigs and goats for nothing.) The actual house is locked (not that we tried to break and enter or anything) but we look in, and just trod around the place a little bit.
Even see the well. (You know, the one where she drew water.)
Can't really see a thing, except that it looks like every other super old house up a holler we have ever saw before. After about 10 minutes, fears of the dueling banjos sent us back to the little Celica and we began our slip and slide out of Butcher Holler.
Let's just say, Loretta wasn't lying when she wrote:
"Well alot of things have changed since way back then and its so good to be back home again not much left but the floor nothing lives here anymore except the memories of a coal miner's daughter."
Except there was more than the floor. Just saying.
And, upon exiting dear old Butcher Holler, sure enough, a sign about the size of an 6X6 picture said "Stop here for tours." Somehow we missed that.
Guess they save this sign for tourist season:
So that is my other coal miner's daughter experience. You know, except for being one.
Head over to Once Upon A Miracle for more fun.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Dear New York Yankees,
I (all but) HATE YOU! You took the BACK TO BACK championship World Series Title away from my Precious
Chase Utley Phillies. Arod, I laughed each time you were hit with a baseball. Seriously. I am mean like that.
Chase Utley's fantasy gal pal.
MOVING ON. SWITCHING GEARS.
Dear Red Car Car,
WHY did you torture my dear Aunt Willie so? She was only trying to help little ole me (which she did) but you died a slow, painful, expensive death that tried (but hopefully didn't) to destroy the blessing she was giving our family at the time. You (or shall I say ANOTHER red person) tried VERY HARD to steal her joy and blessing, but I guarantee that she got blessed anyway. God works like that. ;)
I mean, you carried my tushie all up and down Jenny's Creek, and various other parts of WV and KY with no problems what so ever. No axle problems. No horn problems. No steering problems. Nada.
Aunt Willie decides to
help us make you hers, and you all but literally fall apart in her sweet little arms. Over the course of these last 2-3 years, you have misbehaved BADLY. BAD RED CAR CAR. BAD BAD BAD.
So you BETTER give her a good trade in when she goes for a new vehicle, or me and you will have some SERIOUS talking to do, okay? Okay.
Former Red Car Car Driver with Huge Road Rage Problems
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I know I am barely getting it in here, but welcome to
Thank You Very Much!
Brought to you by Kmama. Go check it out!
To my dearest nephew for picking my wedgie today totally unexpected and scaring me half to death, thank you very much.
To the old lady who made me feel terrible for having to wait FOREVER for her to check out in line only to find out she has cancer and made me feel like a dog for having NO PATIENCE, thank you very much. For real. We all need wake up calls occasionally.
To the 20 year old who made me feel young, then suddenly VERY old with one wink of his purty blue eyes, thank you very much. I really needed a reminder of just how old I actually am. NOT.
To Chris O'donnel for joining the television genre of acting, thank you very much. I am sure we are meant to be, but we just haven't met yet. YET. lol
To Snoop Dogg for coming up with such lovely songs as "Drop It Like It's Hot" that get stuck in my head ALL DAY LONG for no reason at all, thank you very much.
To the many, many unsupervised children in Wally World that were running rampant today, one of which I nearly ran over with my cart, thank you very much.
To the many, many parents of said unsupervised children in Wally World that were running rampant today, one of which I nearly ran over with my cart, thank you very much.
And, finally, to God for this glorious weather we are having in the end of November, thank you very much! I thought we were surely headed for dreary winter a month ago when it turned cold in early October. I was wrong.
To Kmama, Thank You Very Much!
"Ohhhh! What is this?"
"Help me out, here, Mom!"
"You say my Poppy fixed this up for me? It was all rusty but he sanded it and painted just for little ole me? Awwww!"
"Look, Momma! Both hands!"
Not a problem!
Okay, maybe needs a little help here!
After a change of clothes (due to sweating!) Dylan and Poppy adjusted the seat a little bit.
"Let me help you, Poppy!"
"See my plumbers crack, Rachel?"
"I can do it!"
He reached down and hugged it all on his own! He LOVES his new bike-bike!
"That's all, folks!"
For more Tell Me Thursdays, go to www.TellMeThursday.com! (Can't get my linky thing to work!)
Happy (Late) Thursday!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Hey, everyone! It is time for True Story Tuesday! I am just running a little late day wise. No real surprise. I am too old to disappear for the weekend. LOL But I want to get back on track this week. Check out Mr. Daddy & Rachel's adventures HERE and join along.
"This Is Snot Happening"
P.S. Yes, I have decided to start officially naming each of my stories. You're welcome. :)'
Many moons ago (I get tired of saying 7 or 8 years ago) I worked at good ole D0llar General for about 5 years. It looked just like this. No fancy brick for us like some of them have. Our parking lot didn't even have that lovely strip of cement (blacktop?) down the middle. Real fancy smancy here.
See? Wasn't my name tag LOVELY? I particularly am drawn to my crooked "S" and it makes me think of how to learn how to spell Mississippi. (crook-a letter, crook-a letter , I, etc.)
We had a great work family and environment. Either that or we hated each other. Pick a day. We were like these people.
Except we never had an actual MAN work for us, just boys. And all us ladies didn't have the same hair color, style and cut. And our store was probably never that organized. Okay, so we WEREN'T like those people. But WE DID have one of those black bubble things in the ceiling. (They are fake. They slip in the ceiling and have a flashing red light pretending to be a security camera. Until the battery dies. Then the company is too cheap to send you another one. Just so you know. I do hear some places have REAL video cameras now, but I doubt it! LOL)
Moving along with my story. (You thought I had forgot, didn't you?) This is what our register looked like. With two lanes to open and check customers out. Junk in between the two registers (once again, NOT that organized) and our counters weren't quite so shiny. And our SAFE sure wasn't in the middle of the floor for everyone to see as soon as they walked through the door like this one is. Duh. (Guess that cuts out time during a robbery? "Give me all your money!" "Okay, it's ALL right here!")
ANYWAY, I was working with my bestie Tiffany on the cash registers this particular day, and all was going well. It was the first of the month, truck day, and December, so that meant people were running around like crazy, dodging our unloaded junk in the floor, and buying toilet paper and bread and milk in case we got those 4" of snow we were supposed to get, etc, etc, etc. (And, yes, I sigh a sigh of relief EVERY time I go by there and thank God I NO LONGER work there.)
Well, Tiff and I were checking our little hearts out and it was busy, busy, busy. Suddenly Tiff turned around and yelled, "TISSUE! NOW!"
Well, normally amongst our
junk well organized items on the counter between us would be a box of tissues. (You wouldn't believe how many people ask for tissues. Anyway.)
Well, OF COURSE this time there were NO TISSUES to be found. So Tiff did the good deed of curling up in a ball in the floor and letting her sneeze rip. (We were nice like that. Always looking out for the customer.)
"I think some snot came out, but I can't find it," Tiff giggled as she stood up. "Let me help you," I readily volunteered. (We always had each others backs like that, ya know.) No snot could be found.
After a 'nose check' we moved on and continued our work since it was busy as could be. We forgot all about the snot after a couple of hours. Then HE came in. Mr. Construction Dude, this guy that was working in town with some contractors and had been coming in every evening for a while to hang out before heading to the hotel for the night. (We were not completely stupid, so he always went back ALONE! lol) But he was a work of art living and breathing right here on Earth. He looked like this:
He would alternate lines when he checked out. Sometimes me. Sometimes Tiff. Whichever one of us was on the register, whatever. We always squealed like little school girls when he left, but this particular day, we would squeal* for different reasons.
It was oh-so busy, so we didn't get much of a chance to talk to Mr. Construction Dude that day, but we did some banter across the lanes and Tiff had an actual brief conversation with him. One that has went down in our history.
Mr. Construction Dude: "Blah, blah, blah," then, to Tiff, "I think you have some White Out on your shoulder here." And he reached for it. (Why on Earth I will never know. What was it going to do, kill her?)Tiff (turning as red as her strawberry blond hair): "I don't think that is White Out."
Mr. Construction Dude: "Yes, I think it is. See? It's sticky and white-ish, kinda." He demonstrates by pulling his fingers apart.
Now here's the part where I COMPLETELY LOSE IT. Why Tiff just didn't let the persistent idiot think he had found a spot of white out on her shoulder (where short little me couldn't see in our great search for the SNOT) is forever beyond me. Then she made the most wonderful confession ever.
Tiff: "It's my snot. I sneezed and we couldn't find it."
Mr. Construction Dude: "-----------------------------" Dead silence. Then finally, "Oh."
He left like he was on fire, and Tiff and I just ERUPTED with fits of giggles and laughter, while she was also melting with embarrassment. I just literally collapsed on the stuff I was checking out (thank God it was a lady I had known forever, and she was dying laughing too) and just snorted and hacked and coughed and laughed for I don't know how long.
Me: "WHY DID YOU TELL HIM THAT, YOU IDIOT?" I squealed* in a fit of giggles.
Tiff: "I DON'T KNOW! I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE!" she squealed* back.
More giggles and snorts.
We finally get our current customers checked out and had the stock boys trade us out for a 15 minute break because we were so not even able to stand up let alone check people out. We laughed till we could no longer breathe, composed ourselves, and went about our day like respectable young women. (Yeah right. We took the break, but still laughed the rest of the day.)
I also went and got a box of tissues off the shelf IMMEDIATELY. (A day late and a "dollar" short, huh? tee hee)
Can you believe we never saw Mr. Construction Dude again? I cannot imagine why not. Can you? And this, my friends, is just the beginning of my many, many tales from the good ole DG. Some I am not at liberty to tell, but I am going to pull some old ones out in the future.
Tuesday Wednesday and come back later for Wordless Wednesday.