Reflections and Introspections

I will be 36 in February. For some reason a few weeks ago it really hit me that I will be 36 soon. But it didn't hit in a bad way. It just...occurred to me.

I guess that I've metioned different things to my husband because he told me today that I'm really embracing this. Yes, yes I am.

As young girls we all look forward to our first bra. We're proud at each new cup size. As a few years pass, we realize that we're unable to jump and run without one. The novelty begins to wear off. Then we look forward to nursing babies, finding that bras are once again a godsend...for a while. We get weary of the constant feedings. Our babes wean and we look in the mirror and see our once beautiful breasts a bit lower than they once were. We turn to underwire for help. Some women are so dismayed that they feel the need to go under the knife to "fix" their breasts. We compare our selves to younger girls and find ourselves short.

As young girls we anxiously await our passage into womanhood with our first cycle. It's exciting, for a day and a half, until we realize that we're going to do this every month for the next 25, 35, 40 YEARS. Then we begin to resent it each month: the cravings, the bloat, the hormones. We spend an entire week complaining that it's coming. But we miss that it's that exact cycle which enables us to create life! It's a wonderful glorious thing and we bemoan it each month.

As adolecense we see our hips begin to develop and we're captivated by the mirror looking at our new curves. We use them to attract the boys and we're proud to have them. Then we age a bit and they get bigger than we might like. We begin to become uphappy with them and complain about the very things we were so enamored with as teenage girls. We grow older, have children, and somehow expect to look seventeen again.

We go through all of these changes failing to realize that there are many rights of passage in life and how we handle them will either make us or break us.

Ladies, there is nothing wrong with your breasts or mine! Mine sustained life for five precious children and if they hang a little low and swing too and fro, they're BEAUTIFUL and they're mine and they're perfect the way they are.

And there is nothing wrong with your hips or mine! As long as you're HEALTHY they're perfect the way they are, they've changed, that's all and they are a part of you. So gravity got ahold of them. So what!

We grow older and we pass from child to young lady to young woman. Now I'm turning 36, I have night sweats and my cycles are getting a bit odd and I have saddle bags forming in my thighs that I can't get rid of and I have wrinkles forming around my mouth (hopefully from all that smiling I like to do). My metabolism is slowing down so I have to be more careful about what I eat and I have to make sure that I exercise. And I need to get a base line mammogram.

And why? Because I'm passing into another phase of my life, another beautiful phase that will once again change my body and my appearance. And it's okay. I looked into the mirror this afternoon after fully coming to appreciate what is going on with my body and I really like my non-perky boobs and my less than "Hollywood perfect" hips and thighs and the lines around my mouth and I realize that these are just the marks of a happy life with a wonderful husband and five amazing children and I LIKE the way I look, every bit of it.

And as I spend the next decade passing from young woman to mature woman, I will not be anxious for it to end. I will not judge my body against the bodies of girls two phases behind me. I will embrace this change and I will embrace me and I will do my best to enjoy every little bit of it instead of trying to rush it on or longing for life which has already passed.

Because I am a woman.

And this is my body.

And it's functions and looks are perfect and running along just the way nature intended it to be.

I am a woman. I am beautiful. I will be 36 soon.

And in about ten years, we won't need to purchase condoms anymore.

Second Degree Burn

That's what you get when you overflow a jar of apples with hot bubbling syrup that is over 225 degrees. But if you keep it on ice off and on for 3 1/2 hours, amazingly enough, you get no blisters and by the next day, it no longer hurts to touch it. I'd take a picture of my hand, but my new camera hasn't arrived yet...

WHICH brings me to the next subject...

Nekkid picture coming soon

Bear has purchased me a new digital and it should be here next week. We've already discussed the shot, and it has his approval.

House Flood and Lassie's Replacement: My Dog Kaitlyn AKA Dumb Ass (See Previous Post)

Okay, before I tell you about my day yesterday, I will explain to you why I am up at 4:20 in the morning blogging.

You see, I went to bed nice and all around 9:30, but at 2:00 this morning I start to hear the pitter patter of little feet upstairs in the boys' room. Their floor is my ceiling. I figure one of them is going to the bathroom. And one of them did come downstairs to use the facilities (why they have to use the downstairs bathroom will come next). Now begins the potty parade as one by one the three younger boys all come down to use the bathroom. Then they take one of the dogs and the cat into their room. The dog and the cat start chasing each other back and forth in the room which is over my bed (except I didn't know the cause of the hoopla until a bit later). Finally at 3:11 I got my ass out of bed and went up to tell them to shut. the. hell. up. I kicked the animals out of the room.

All is well, I can now attempt to go back to sleep. My mind and body had a difficult time settling back down. I had JUST dozed off when I hear Kaitlyn start up with her Lassie immitation outside. WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! BARK! BARK! BARK! Being as we live next to a wildlife refuge, I grab my flashlight and head out to see what was going on. "What's wrong, Girl? What? You say that little Timmy is stuck in a well?!?!?! OH NO!" She had the scent of something. I did the obligatory scanning of the woods with my flashlight, but I never saw an animal out there. Although with the dense woods it's not like the flashlight is going to make it visible anyhow. I simply call the dogs up to the porch, assure them that they're great and wonderful blah, blah, blah... Can I go back to bed now? Except I can't sleep.

So here I sit blogging.

Okay, the House Flood

I'm up at my friend's (the only other house on this road) when I receive a phone call from my son. He tells me that the toilet upstairs overflode and is still running. Yeah, yeah, yeah, toilet's back up and there some water on the floor, I'm on my way. Except when I get upstairs, instead of the little overflow I was expecting, there's an inch and a half, maybe two inches of water on the floor. The toilet backed up and the flapper got stuck in the up position and the toilet ran full flow...for about 30-40 minutes.

Of course I immediately turned off the water valve behind the toilet. Not in time, however, to prevent the water from the UPSTAIRS bathroom to seap through the floor and come out of the ceiling and pour in a steady stream into the DOWNSTAIRS bathroom, which now had a good inch of water in.

And of COURSE this water went through the floor and had a steady stream flowing into, you got it, Baby! the basement!!! WEEEEEEEEE!!!

So I got out my handy dandy carpet cleaner and sucked up the water from upstairs. Then I sucked out the water from downstairs and will have to try sucking more water from the basement. You see, while the bathrooms have linoleum in them, the basement has this stuff on the floor called...CARPET...which is now damp with...toilet water...

We did end up using just about all of my ten of our our extra large size fluffy white towles to clean up the meass as well. So they were washed in hot water and bleach last night. I guess there will be no shower for me this morning when...ever...I might have showered when I got up.

If I were actually still asleep.

Six Bushels of Apples

A friend gave me six bushels of apples yesterday afternoon. To give you an idea of how much that is (I wish I had my camera), it's four large rectangle laundry baskets, a large box and two paper bags from the grocery store. I will be busy making apple butter, apple rings, spiced apple ring, applesauce, etc, for the next three days.

'Nough said. I guess I should go ahead and start making the kids' lunches now. Makes no sense to try to sleep now when I'll just have to get up in another hour anyway to get the kids to the bus by 7:00.

Alrighty, I'm over 6,000...and my digital camera is broken. I am true to my promise, so as soon as my Bear gets me my camera, the new picture will be up. Sorry for the delay, but the circumstances *ARE* out of my control.

Thought y'all might get a kick out of this. I know I did...

You Belong in 1962

If you scored... 1950 - 1959: You're fun loving, romantic, and more than a little innocent. See you at the drive in! 1960 - 1969: You are a free spirit with a huge heart. Love, peace, and happiness rule - oh, and drugs too. 1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all! 1980 - 1989: Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day. 1990 - 1999: With you anything goes! You're grunge one day, ghetto fabulous the next. It's all good!

What Year Do You Belong In?

I just finished reading an article about the girl that was killed in the high school hostage situation in Bailey, CO (full article here). Now that my children are in school, after reading that article, I feel sick. I truly want to vomit. These things upset me before, but now that sudden rush of fear for my own children's safety just made me sick.

See that counter???

When it reaches 6,000 I'm going to post a nudie shot...of SOMETHING...I don't know what...

Once again, it's a blame-everyone-else society...

McDonald's and other fast food places have been receiving a lot of flack for serving fatty unhealthy food. Okay, it's fast food alright? Anyway, McDonald's has now donated $2 million dollars to fund research on childhood obesity. Terrif. You may read the full article here.

While you may find the entire article of interest, I zeroed in on one particular quote, "It's good that they are funding useful medical research, but that doesn't absolve them of their responsibility to serve nutritious food to children," said Daniel Borochoff, president of the American Institute of Philanthropy, a Chicago-based charity watchdog group.

Personally, I've always believed that it was the PARENT'S responsibility to serve nutritious food to THEIR children. After all, no one is FORCING them to drive through any fast food chain and purchase greasy burgers, deep fried chicken or potatoes to their children. And of course, no one is twisting their arms to purchase soda or milk shakes for their children to wash that greasy, fattening, calorie ridden food down either. These places do offer salads with low-fat dressing, fruit cups, yogurt, milk, juice, grilled chicken and bottle water as well. It isn't the fault of the chains that too many parent's out there are too wishy washy to say "NO" to their child or just plain don't give a rat's ass about their child's health.

I'm not going to throw stones at anyone for taking their kids out for an occassional jaunt for a burger...stress on the word OCCASSIONAL. But it isn't McDonald's fault that there are kids out there being raised on grease and fat. That responsibility falls square on the parents who continually purchase this food for consumption by their children and call it dinner. NO ONE ELSE IS TO BLAME. That is just called poor parenting.

Of course, I'd like to know when these people are going to start going after the breakfast and lunch programs in our public schools. With such offereings as children Pop Tarts, sugar coated cereals, greasy sausage pizza, chocolate and strawberry milk for breakfast and corn dogs, fries, cookie, chocolate and strawberry milk for lunch, is it really wonder our children are obese???!!! These kids get this same type of food FIVE DAYS A WEEK at school. How often do they really get McDonald's? It seems to me that if people want to start casting blame they should start at the public school food programs because they are absolutely greasy, fattening, calorie ridden and UNHEALTHY! Even salads are made with iceburg lettuce, which has NO NUTRITIONAL VALUE at all, cheese made from grease (because it's cheap) and salad dressing that is loaded with saturated fat. All heaven forbid serving these kids fat free low calorie dressing, right?

In the end is still comes down to the parents though. Until the PARENTS take responsibility and start demanding truly healthy food for breakfast and lunch at school (or take the time to pack healthy nutritious food for their children like I do) and stop driving through McDonald's, all of the research isn't going to do a damned thing.

But that's just my opinion.

So many things to tell you...

Let's see, we had our first EGG!!! Fresh from our hen's backside! Isn't it PUR-DY?!
Yesterday I actually watched an egg fall out of Gordy's butt. For some reason, this excites me.

After the egg laying decided to lay out in the sun for a while. It was in the high 70's, but with the sun right on me it felt warmer. I laid out totally nekkid because WHO'S GONNA SEE ME???? Yeah, I walked around nekkid as a jay-bird for a while too because WHO'S GONNA SEE ME???? I love my country life.

I've been up since 4:00 a.m. You see, last night Bear said he was thinking about me and then he thought about tornados. Being the superstitious person I am, when it began storming terribly outside at 4:00 this morning (I swear we had lightning that shook the house), I just KNEW that we were going to have a tornado. So I didn't sleep.

That's why it makes sense that I ate chili at 8:00 this morning because I'd already been up for four hours.

I like chili.

Second post of the day...

You go, WILLIE!!!

Willie Nelson Cited for Drug Possession

LAFAYETTE, La. (Sept. 18) - Willie Nelson and four others were issued misdemeanor citations for possession of narcotic mushrooms and marijuana after a traffic stop Monday morning on a Louisiana highway, state police said.

The citations were issued after a commercial vehicle inspection of the country music star's tour bus, state police said in a news release.

"When the door was opened and the trooper began to speak to the driver, he smelled the strong odor of marijuana," the news release said. A search of the bus produced 1 1/2 pounds of marijuana and 0.2 pounds of narcotic mushrooms, according to state police.

Nelson's publicist, Elaine Shock, declined immediate comment.

Also cited were Tony Sizemore, 59, of St. Cloud, Fla.; Bobbie Nelson, 75, of Briarcliff, Texas; Gates Moore, 54, of Austin, Texas; and David Anderson, 50, of Dallas.

Each was released after being issued a citation.

Nelson, 73, has recorded songs including "On the Road Again" and "City of New Orleans."

Fuck.
Fuck, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Yup, still shitty...

I had a shitty first half of the day. Anyone else?

My Father's Last Dance

It was November '03. My in-laws and my parents were at our house in Florida. My father-in-law was playing the piano and my parents were singing. My Dad's voice grew tired and he just listened to my Mom and father-in-law. I asked him to dance. I helped him out of his wheelchair and supported him while we danced. I don't remember the song. I remember him getting tears in his eyes because he hadn't danced since his stroke December 2000. He never thought he would dance again.

Dance With my Father Again

Back when I was a child
Before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high
And dance with my mother and me and then
Spend me around till I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved

If I could get another chance
Another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never ever end
How I'd love love love to dance with my father again

When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me(yeah, yeah)
Then finally make me do just what my momma said
Later that night, when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me

If I could steal
One final glance
One final step
One final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never ever end
Cause I'd love love love to dance with my father again

Please Vote for my New Icon

Choice 1

Choice 2

I took the kids to the drive-in to see Barnyard. The movie disturbed me. Let me tell you why...

All the cows were heifers.

ALL of them. Ben and Otis (father/son), the MALES who did the protection of the barnyard, had huge, engorged udders where their bullness should have been and no horns. Now, I'm not sayin' that Ben and Otis should have had huge bull dicks or anything. I'm just sayin' that the farmer didn't have huge breasts and the male dog didn't have teats. So WHY did Ben and Otis have udders?

It bothered me the entire movie. SERIOUSLY.

And I wasn't the only one. Everyone at that drive-in now think that those people out in California are stupid.

Beyond any comprehension.

They're stupid.

Look, my 13-year-old didn't grow up on a farm. He's never seen a bull up close. But he noticed. He knows that male cows don't have udders. So what the f*ck is WRONG with those people???

Look...

This is a heifer. See the lovely udders???

This is a bull. No udders, just a dick and horns.

This isn't rocket science. I need to send these images to someone in charge. Maybe I'll send them so someone at Paramount and Nickelodeon. Hmmmm...

Suddenly, I like Britney...

I've often wondered what the draw was to Lindsay Lohan. So when there was a set of photos of her in various bathing suits I decided to see for myself.

The girl has no hips. No shape. No figure real figure of any kind. Her legs are skinny and scrawny. She looks like a boy with boobs. Seriously, I don't get it. She looks undernourished.

And she's an airhead.

Every quote I've read of hers makes her sounds stupid. STUPID.

And Hillary Duff? Eat a damn Big Mac or three. Your head is way too big for your body. That goes for Nicole Ritchie as well.

Ritchie use to have this cute little figure until she went on a hunger strike.

Now she's a walking stick (that's an insect that looks like a stick...saw one the other day...the country is cool like that).

The only thing I can conclude is that these girls aren't as well off as we all think. They must not be able to afford food. I'm thinking about starting a fund to feed undernourished starlets...because DAMN! they look like they could pose as starving children for one of those feed the world organizations.

Seriously.

Breast Implants Save Israeli from Rocket

Rueters
Updated: 6:11 p.m. CT Aug 15, 2006

JERUSALEM - An Israeli woman's breast implants saved her life when she was wounded in a Hezbollah rocket attack during Israel's war with the Lebanese group, a hospital spokesman said Tuesday.

Doctors found shrapnel embedded in the silicone implants, just inches from the 24-year-old’s heart.

"She was saved from death," said a spokesman for Nahariya Hospital in northern Israel. The woman has been released from hospital.

I saw the Chippendales last night.

I. Touched. This. Man.

Unfortunately I left my camera at home so I downloaded this one from the Chippendales website. The city ordinance for where they were performing prohibits them from removing their pants. So they dropped them to their ankles and bent over for us instead. OMGoddess!

Anyway, his name is Michael Riece and he's from Down Under and has THE sexiest voice. I wrapped my arms around him and OMGoddess!

Well, that's all I have to say. Remember, Ladies, save a horse, ride a cowboy!

YEEEEE-HAAAAAAWWW!

This post is for Batman and Sonia specifically, as they are into politics. I most sincerely hope that you'll all go check it out though. It is a movie which PROVES that many of the photos coming out of Lebanon showing all sorts of death and destruction are FALSE. There are even pictures of people pretending to be dead just for the photo shoot.

This is important, no matter what side of the controversy you're on.

Proof of false pictures coming out of Lebanon

Meet my new babies, George and Gracie. We hope that they'll have babies. They're fainting goats, so if you scare them, they pass out.

George is the boy. He has huge nuts (picture to be posted in the future).

Gracie is the girl. She likes to meet you when you go to see her. She loves to be petted, loved and held.

This is our other new family member. Her name is Princess Matty. Katelynn the dog likes to paly with her.

Guard dog destroys Elvis' $75K teddy bear & others

LONDON - A guard dog has ripped apart a collection of rare teddy bears, including one once owned by Elvis Presley, during a rampage at a children’s museum.

“He just went berserk,” said Daniel Medley, general manager of the Wookey Hole Caves near Wells, England, where hundreds of bears were chewed up Tuesday night by the 6-year-old Doberman pinscher named Barney.

Barney ripped the head off a brown stuffed bear once owned by the young Presley during the attack, leaving fluffy stuffing and bits of bears’ limbs and heads on the museum floor. The bear, named Mabel, was made in 1909 by the German manufacturer Steiff.

The collection, valued at more than $900,000, included a red bear made by Farnell in 1910 and a Bobby Bruin made by Merrythought in 1936.

The bear with Elvis connections was owned by English aristocrat Benjamin Slade, who bought it at an Elvis memorabilia auction in Memphis, Tenn., and had loaned it to the museum.
“I’ve spoken to the bear’s owner and he is not very pleased at all,” Medley said.
A security guard at the museum, Greg West, said he spent several minutes chasing Barney before wrestling the dog to the ground.

Oh wow. Where oh where do I start? Let's see: The man who owned the $75,000 Elvis teddy bear isn't happy. REALLY?!?! Please tell me you weren't surprised by that one. But who the hell pays $75,000 for a teddy bear anyway? and if you do, wouldn't you have it preserved in casing to prevent air (and evidently dogs...) from getting it? All fabric deteriorates over time when left vulnerable to air and bugs.

I'd also like to know why a collection worth nearly a million dollars wasn't behind glass? If you go to the link you see all of these teddy bears just sitting out. Okay, so teddy bears are cute and cuddly, but we're talking nearly a million damn dollars. It doesn't take much of a brainiac to figure out that they shouldn't be sitting out in the open.

As for the dog, HE'S A DOG! You leave out stuffed fuzzy things and he's gonna go "berzerk"! He was like a kid in a candy store, except he was a dog in a toy store. Have any of you ever known a dog that DIDN'T like to chew something that was stuffed? I'm sure he was just looking for the one that squeaked. Why should it surprise anyone that the dog did what dogs do?

Sounds like a bunch of imbeciles were in charge. But hey, that's just me.

I'm going to have a political moment.

Anyone who thinks that Israel should just accepted having Hezbollah cross the border, kidnap Israeli citizens and shell Israel (July 12, 2006) and NOT retaliate is a dumb-ass. Not to be redundant, with the term dumb-ass, but you are a world class DUMB-ASS. Or as my daughter would say, you're a dumb-o. Or in Sonia's words, you're an Ass Clown.

I am truly truly sorry for the loss of innocent life in Lebanon, but THEIR OWN GOVERNMENT is to blame. They willingly CHOSE Hezbollah over helping to retrieve INNOCENT people. They willingly CHOSE Hezbollah's shelling and attacking of Israel. Israel has no choice. They have to take out Hezbollah where they are. Unfortunately, they are hiding behind civilians...because terrorists are cowards! Either Israel goes after where missiles are being fired from, or they sit back and watched their own INNOCENT civilians die. Why isn't the world crying over the Israeli women and children that have been killed as a result of Hezbollah's numerous attack on them FROM LEBANON?

Wait, I know, because the killing of Jews in this world is perfectly acceptable. That's right. You see, Hitler should have exterminated them a long time ago, now we're just suppose to sit back and not only let it happen, but feel sorry for those who are killed when the Jews try to defend themselves.

Forgive me for being so obviously obtuse.

War sucks, I know this. Innocent people die, I know this too. Just don't forget who started this conflict though...and it WAS. NOT. Israel.

Let's see...

At 9:05 AM local time (04:05 UTC), on 12 July 2006, Hezbollah initiated a rocket and mortar attack on Israeli military positions and on the towns of Even Menahem and Mattat, injuring 11 soldiers and civilians. Afterwards, a ground contingent of Hezbollah militants attacked two Israeli armored Humvees on a routine patrol along the Israel-Lebanon border near the Israeli village of ZarÂ’it with anti-tank rockets, capturing two Israeli soldiers, and killing three, with a further five killed when a Tank hit a mine 6 km inside Lebanese territory.[1]

And why did this happen? Because Hezbollah wants the release of some Arab prisoners being held in Israel, specifically, the "Lebanese militant Samir Kuntar, jailed in Israel since a 1979 attack in the northern town of Nahariyah, in which he entered an apartment and murdered three family members and an Israeli police officer."

Lovely.

And those are the people you support when you say that Israel should back off.

Too many people are dumb-asses...Seriously

Alrighty then, let's go through this AGAIN for the terminally brain dead. Not every email you receive in you box is true or accurate. Just because there is a name and phone number at the bottom does not mean it is true. ANYONE could look up a name and number and add it to make it look official. You should check the shit out before you forward a bunch of lies to people.

Listen, if you do not know by now that gang members are NOT driving around without headlights on Friday and Saturday nights waiting to be flashed so they can hunt you down to kill you as an initiation YOU ARE AN IDIOT! Not only that, but if you actually used your head and thought for just one FRIGGING second you would say, "Hey, if that were true, it would be all over the news." Hmmmmmm, people, stop sitting on your brains and try using them.

As for Martin Luther King, yeah, some of that stuff is true, but just enough to make it look credible. The rest is a pack of lies. The place is called SNOPES. Try checking on the veracity of the shit you send out before you flood my email. Mkay?

And yes, McDonald's imports some of their meat. WHY? Because their demand cannot be filled by the American ranchers. They HAVE to buy from outside of the U.S. or else you won't be able you purchase heart attacks on a bun. And don't worry, you aren't eating WORM meat either!

You people who not only believe this crap, but send it out, need to be slapped.

You piss me off.

You're stupid.

Fuck off.

Several large trash bags.

That's what I will be taking to the dump and to donation. WHY? Excellent question! I asked my sons to clean their room. Without going into too much detail, that request was followed by 45 minutes of whining and complaining and arguing and fighting becasue no one wanted to clean the mess. When I was finally told to go inspect, stuff had been shoved into the corners, under chairs and in the closet. I think the topper though was when...

Bear, please sit down...

I walked to the other closet and found this brown stuff on the floor. What was it? Shit! It was dried shit! You see #4 has gotten into the habit of waiting until the very last minute to go to the bathroom and his shit fell out his pants all over the floor. In an attempt to clean it up without mom finding out, he rubbed it into the carpet.

No.
One.
Told.
Me.

And now it is dried and crusted in the carpet. I will do my best to get it out, Bear.

So, amid tears, they have to take EVERYTHING that is not in its place and throw it away. And there will be no more. They are now on lawn bag #4...

I. Am. Tired.

I am tired of being tired.

That said, I've not been in much of a mood to blog. I'm not much in the mood to read other people's blogs either. Truth is, I spend most of my day just trying to keep my eyes open.

I.
Need.
Someone.
To.
Buy.
My.
Other.
House.

Blah...blah...blah...

HEY! Did I tell y'all that I rode in and then drove a tractor?! Didn't think so. Here's a handy dandy picture.


We were pulling a brush hog (giant grass cutter for really tall weeds and hay...if you fall in, you're dead). Isn't it a nice purty red??? Real tractors are red. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But no matter what color they are, I get tickled every time I see one driving down the road.

I need a goat. This is a Nubian goat. Isn't it cute??? Goats eat brush for you so you don't have to clear it out yourself. They eat thistles and thorny brush without hestitation. Cool. I've had several people tell me to get one goat with a long chain and then move the stake every few days to clean out all around my house and some of the brush under the trees in the fields that we couldn't bushhog. I think goats are cute. I wouldn't mind haven't one. I have a barn it could stay in when it got real cold. I could just stake her right in the middle and feed her during the winter. Yahhhhhh...I want a goat.

Alrighty, I'm gonna go make dinner before I fall asleep.

My altar...

A Day in the Life of Krystal in the Kountry

Children of the Corn

We have a corn field next to us. I was walking past it a few nights ago at late dusk when I thought to myself, "Hey, that corn is so high that someone could hide in it." Then I remembered that Stephen King story "Children of the Corn". It creeped me out. I had to force myself to keep my normal walking pace and convince myself that no one was going to jump out of the corn and chase me down with a scythe or sickle.

THE corn field of THE children

When I was safely past the corn field, I looked around at the dense trees and brush that now engulfed me. While walking between them in the now total darkness, I heard the night creatures rustling the grasses and leaves. A new thought came to me: Someone could have tracked me through the corn, ducked behind the barn and then darted into the woods right beside me!

Where the critters hide. At night it's creepy alone.

I start telling myself, "Stop being such a woman! Get it together!" Just then, as though on cue, a bat dive bombed my head! I kid you not! I covered myself with my arms, ducked and screamed.

I ran up the rest of that hill to my house and locked the door behind me.

The End

Who else does NOT know what the heck "prada" is???

What I do while IM-ing with a friend...

Things you should know:

1. When you're boiling eggs, if you forget they are there and let all of the water boil away, the eggs will explode with a loud pop. This makes a mess. But it was so funny that the kids and I watched another explode.

2. If you feed a dog watermelon, they get diarrhea. This makes a mess. It is not fun to clean up. That's why I made the kids do it (HEY! They're the ones who fed the dog mellon in the first place.)

3. And this is what it looks like to drive behind a covered wagon:

So it's 5:30 in the morning and I'm at the computer. Why oh why would Miss Krystal be on the computer at this way too early time of day? Because of the new bed we bought.

It feels EXACTLY like a Tempur Pedic, but is better made and costs a lot less. AND IS JUST AS FIRM, which the lady assured me up one side and down the other that it is not. She said it felt NOTHING like a Tempur Pedic and that it was super ultra soft. NO WAY could this mattress be considered firm. Lying bitch! Anyway, there was this awesome review online and I checked up on the award they'd been given by the orthopedic association. Sounded like a good idea, and if I liked Tempur Pedics it would have been awesome because you save a nice chunk of money buying it directly from the manufacturer.

I. Will. Never. Do. That. Again.

They ask to give them 48 hours before deciding on whether or not you like the mattress. I've given them a full week. My back hurts like it always does on too firm of a mattress (BTW, three of the children described it as firm and my daughter described is as "hard"). I don't know how on this planet people sleep on firm mattresses! I went to bed a little after midnight last night. Between then and about 5:15 this morning I woke up NINE TIMES with an appendage "asleep" and tingling or a severe aching shoulder (all caused from pressure points from a firm bed). The last two times I had buzzing in my head to go with the asleep arm, leg, aching shoulder, whatever. That's an average of once every 38 minutes. And of course I have to find another position and wait for my limb to stop tingling or the ache to subside before falling back to sleep, so it isn't like I actually slept for 38 minutes inbetween. This can only happen with pressure points, which aren't suppose to exist on memory foam types of beds.

Anyway, it's been a week and it is getting worse instead of better as time goes by.

Today I will have to go out and find a twin sized mattress to fit into our bedroom next to the king sized bed that I'd like to douse with lighter fluid and throw a match on (after hauling it outside of course so the entire house didn't go up in flames). I swear to you, I slept better on the blow up Aero mattress than I do on this super firm POS.

Soft my ass! As compared to what? CONCRETE?!?!

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

I sure miss you,

And it doesn't hurt any less

the longer you're gone.

My heart still aches

and I still cry,

for you.

I would like to know G-d's purpose for chiggers. Anyone? I have them...on the sides of my breasts and under my breasts. I suppose that's better than my crotch.

OH! Like the sunburn? Ain't it purdy??? Just another reason for me to play with my own tits...I mean scratch my breasts uncontrollably. I'm just really grateful that I chose to go to the lake to sunbath instead of laying out topless in my backyard like I had considered.

For those who are cocking your head sideways in confused, that is my cleavage. I know that many of you are use to the purky breasts of women who have not had children or the purky breasts of women who have been sucked, tucked and stuffed. I do not fall into either of those categories. My once "bodacious ta-ta's" (as they were called in high school) have sustained five little lives for a combined six years of breast feeding. That makes them bodacious in a different kind a way...a way that says purky breasts are NOT the end all.

And of course I don't have to worry about a stray needle popping one of them either.

Anyone remember those old Idaho Potato commercials? Well, for some reason, "Heigh-ho, I'm from Idaho!" popped into my head a few minutes ago. Then I happened to think how poorly the same one-liner would go over today: "Hey, Ho! I'm from Idaho!" First, calling people a "Ho" these days isn't too bright. Second, who gives a rat's ass where you're from? Just a random thought from a chigger ridden, sun baked brain.

My dog has gas. I. Think. I. Might. Get. Sick.

Bear's been here... Krystal did a very good thing for him last night...well a few good things for him last night...

My work here is finished.

Squirrel goes berserk at church

A Day in the Life of Krystal in the KountryThis is a woodchuck, AKA a groundhog.

So why am I posting a picture of one? Because I had one of these suckers run out in front of my van yesterday afternoon. I screamed and slammed my breaks! The cute little guy ran under the van between the front and back axles (while it was still moving) and made it through to the other side UNSCATHED. He was a quick li'l critter!

Of course, I wasn't sure if he was alright or not immediately. I didn't see a smooshed corpse in the road, but for all I knew the cuddly little thing made it across the road and then dropped dead of a heart attack upon reaching his destination. Or maybe I just hit part of him and he was able to make it across the country road through shear momentum. I had to make sure, for peace of mind you know. I didn't want the guilt of taking this brown fuzz ball's life for no reason. I don't mind killing an animal for food. That's okay. However, killing an animal and leaving it is not okay. I really REALLY wanted this animal to not be hurt. I wasn't in the mood to scoop up roadkill, I don't know how to skin a woodchuck, and I have no recipes for Road Kill Stew. So I made a five-point-turn (that's what it takes in a gas-guzzling vehicle like mine on a back country road) so I could check. I didn't see him anywhere. So now I'm driving a ways in the opposite direction I need to go in so I could find an area of road that's straight and not curving and isn't between hills so I could turn around again without fear of being rammed by a speeding pick up truck, of which there are plenty.

And most of them are red.

Eventually I found a place to turn my vehicle around. I was totally THRILLED upon my return to find the sweet thing eating on the side of the road. The groundhog was fine. WHEW! I really needed to know that or else I would have worried all night about the poor thing. He was so adorable! He did take off once he recognized my huge mammoth mode of transportation coming back at him. I guess he figured that The Thing almost got him once and he wasn't taking another chance at "Crossing the Road Russian Roulette". THE THING is a formidable opponent (or so the tale goes with the lovable fury woodland creatures). I was happy to watch him run off into the woods nearby knowing he was going to be okay.

I truly hope that your day is a little brighter now that I've shared a wee bit of joy from A Day in the Life of Krystal in the Kountry.

What's wrong with Mr. & Mrs. Smith???

Why am I bringing this up? For two reasons: First, I almost died a couple weeks ago when my son called our minister by his first name. Second, people wonder why today's youth has a respect issue when it comes to adults. Well hell! Maybe it's because they call us by our first names! That puts us on the same level. DUUUUUUHHHH! It's not frigging rocket science here.

Growing up I called adults by their last name. It showed respect. My best friend's parents were Mr. and Mrs. "Smith" until I was THIRTY. I want to know what is wrong with that? Why am I "Miss Krystal" instead of "Mrs. Kelly" to a five-year-old? I even had a neighbor once tell my children to call her by her first name ONLY. Uh, NO! My children were instructed that at no time were they ever to call an adult by their first name alone...EVER. People say, "Oh, they need to feel comfortable with you." No, they need to remember that they are FIVE and I am NOT their little friend. I'm an adult and they are NOT on my level.

Children do not need to call adults by their first names to have some sort of "feeling" for adults anyway. I never did, and I had several adults that I felt really comfortable with. Now, we had a few friends who were like family to us. They were "Aunt" and "Uncle" So-n-So. But I NEVER called any of my parent's friends of my friend's parents by their first names. Besides that, I don't think that it's smart to let a my son's teenage friends feel "comfortable" with me as an adult anyway. I want them to have a certain fear and respect for me. AND I want them to know that if there is a problem, I'm not their little buddy, I'm an adult and I can handle the situation.

I don't particularily like being "Miss Krystal". I should be "MRS. KELLY". And I want to know what the problem is with that. Because I don't see one.

Because the Diva requested it...

Your Stripper Song Is

Closer by Nine Inch Nails "You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I?ve got no Soul to tell" When you dance, it's a little scary - and a lot sexy.

What Song Should You Strip To?

Because Sonia requested it...

Ten of life's simple pleasures.

1. Being held in my Bear's arms.

2. Making love to my Bear.

3. Dancing for my Bear.

4. Holding my babies.

5. Feeling my babies kick when they were still inside me.

6. Breastfeeding.

7. Being nekid.

8. Holding a pet.

9. Walking in untouched nature.

10. Eating in food someone else cooked knowing that someone else will clean it up.

I need help...

I need suggestions of amazingly seductive and sexy music to strip to. I'm looking for songs along the lines of Those Shoes (The Eagles), Reefer Head Woman (Aerosmith) and Dazed and Confused (Led Zeppelin). If you have any suggestions, please let me know. If you aren't familiar with these, you can find them at Barnes and Noble.

Thank-you!

Your Deadly Sins

Lust: 60%

Gluttony: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Envy: 0%

Greed: 0%

Pride: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You'll die of a yet to be discovered STD.

How Sinful Are You?

That was fun.

Alrighty then...someone explain how I can live in a place where people own horses like most of the country owns dogs, and yet there is NOT a country-western wear store within a two hour radius? Someone explain that irritating fact to me. Even more absurd is that in Ft. Lauderdale, I could have found a dozen within an hour's drive.

I was hit on while Bear was visiting. This is riveting...

He Says: Nice hat.

I Say: Thank-you.

He Says: Do you like country music?

I Think: Let's see, blue jeans, cowboy hat, cowboy boots, you're a fucking brain.

I Say: Yes, I do.

He Says (with a nod of the head, a semi-wink and half smile): Ever hear of the song, "Save a horse. Ride a coooow-booooy"?

I Say: Yes.

He Says: Where you from?

I Say: The Mall. With my husband and five children.

***Now let me tell you, the husband part doesn't always work, but the five children part can cool even Clinton's jets.***

He Says: Well that's nice. Real nice. You have a good evening then.

I Say: Thank-you.

A startling discovery!

I was up late Saturday with insomnia so I watched Talk Sex with Dr. Drew. Cuz hell, the bed is empty, why go? Anyway, they had this woman on who had plastic surgery on her vajayjay. Who knew this was done? I must admit, my interest was peaked. It's true. Women all over the country are having plastic surgery on their cooters. Here you can see the before and after pictures of vaginoplasty. Here you can see before and after shots of labiaplasty.

Of course, having had five children, I began to wonder. Is my cooter shot, too? Surely my kitty doesn't look like THOSE...things!

I am pleased as punch to report, that with the help of my handy-dandy hand held mirror, I can confirm that MY kitty doesn't look ANYTHING like those before shots. I have a pretty kitty that looks amazingly like the after shots. That's because I live for keigels. Lucky Bear!

I'm going to bed now. Kisses to you all!

Some friends of Bear's and mine, that we knew in Florida, invited us to a cookout last night. Her parents have a lakehouse just fifteen minutes away. We had fun, ate hot dogs, roasted marshmallows in a bon fire next to the Lake. It was nice to see them again.

I had a dream last night about my Daddy. He's never in my dreams. I wish he were. I dream about him and his things. Last night he had died. There was an office with his things in it were I could go there to see them. I just wanted to see his handwriting. I go in and they were cleaning it out. They had his filing cabinet with his handwritten tags in the slots and the drawers were falling open for me. I reached forward and pressed the lock button to keep the drawers and everything all inside. Then I suddenly realize that I don't have a key to open Daddy's precious filing cabinet. I woke up crying.

Now I have a serious headache.

The observants ones would have already noticed that I've changed my picture. Yes, I have a bit of exhibitionist in me. I'd probably post the really awesome nude shot of me, but Fred might go blind and Bear would be...well...a lot less than happy.

***But I have this most AMAZING shot by the fire place.***

Over 4,000 visits ...

I *AM* loved!!!

Krystal got laid last night!!!

It is indeed time for celebration. We went on last night for two entire uninterrupted hours. See, Bear snuck in and I already had the kids tucked up in bed and they didn't know Daddy was coming. He snuck up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and yessssssss, Daddy was home. And Mommy's REEEEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLL happy!

Make up sex is great, but this we've-been-apart-too-fucking-long sex is just in a class by itself. We're talking multiples here, people. Amazing, wonderful, huge, repetitive multiples.

Yeah, my Bear is home until Wednesday and we have lost time to make up for. Lots and lots of lost time...

Donations of new unused condoms still in their wrappers may be sent to:

Bear and Krystal
#69 Bend Over Drive
Do Me Now, Kentucky 69069

This post is dedicated to The Blog Whore, who appears to have the same mother I do. I say we sends these lyrics on over to our mothers, babe! The name of the song is "Get Over It" and it's by my favorite band, the ~E~A~G~L~E~S...


I turn on the tube and what do I see
A whole lotta people cryin' 'Don't blame me'
They point their crooked little fingers ar everybody else
Spend all their time feelin' sorry for themselves
Victim of this, victim of that
Your momma's too thin; your daddy's too fat

Get over it
Get over it
All this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

You say you haven't been the same since you had your little crash
But you might feel better if I gave you some cash
The more I think about it, Old Billy was right
Let's kill all the lawyers, kill 'em tonight
You don't want to work, you want to live like a king
But the big, bad world doesn't owe you a thing

Get over it
Get over it
If you don't want to play, then you might as well split
Get over it, Get over it

It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You're makin' the most of your losin' streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weak

You drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little ass

Get over it
Get over it
All this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fit
Get over it, get over it

Get over it
Get over it
It's gotta stop sometime, so why don't you quit
Get over it, get over it

My Morning Wal-Mart Adventure

I had to hit Wal-Mart this morning because I have a couple children with colds and I needed to get some vitamin C and a few other suppliments as well. Things were great. I went through check out, no waiting (way cool). Then I head over to customer service to return a package of card stock (customer service opens at 7:00 so I did my shopping first).

I get in line behind this man who has about twenty various small hardware items to return...from four different receipts. Of course he hasn't sorted which items go with which receipt so the girl behind the counter has to find each and every one. Yeah. Then he wants to purchase two other little things. Then he wants a gift card.

I'm standing behind him these TEN MINUTES with more people gathering and he has a conversation with the girl that goes like this:

Guy: Money transfers from Wal-Mart? How does that work?

Girl: You can have us transfer money from this Wal-Mart to any other Wal-Mart for another person to pick up.

Guy: How convenient. Everyone waits around for a Western Union and not everyone has one.

Girl: Yep.

Guy: So I can come here to shop and send money anywhere then?

Girl: Yes you can.

Guy: And someone else can pick it up?

Girl: Yes

I'm Thinking: No, you have to fly there and pick it up yourself, dumb-ass.

Guy: So, if I wanted to send money to someone in say, Florida, I could do that?

Girl: Yes, you could.

I'm Thinking: Yes, dumb-ass, she said ANY freaking Wal-Mart. That would include such incredibly remote places like Florida as well. Now why don't you ask about other distant places like California, Hawaii and Alaska while the rest of us STAND BEHIND YOU AND WAIT, dumb-ass. We have nothing better to do with our day.

Guy: That's pretty convenient. Thanks!

And he leaves all excited because he can wire money from Wal-Mart. It totally made his day.
I'm so freaking thrilled I can hardly stand it. Now please, just do my one return from my one receipt with three items on it so I CAN GO HOME. Thank-you. Now have an average day.

Well, this Bitch has had enough!

You see, I've asked my children repeatedly not to stomp around upstairs. They were told that the next time they did it they would walk the length of their room 100 times quietly so I don't hear them below. They didn't believe me. This morning they were thudding on the floor so hard that the candle sticks in my bedroom were vibrating. The two younger boys are walking it now. If I hear them and they are on number 99, they have to start over at one.

My second son pissed his pants again last night. Now if I promise a present in the morning or give him a gold dollar, he'll wake up dry 95% of the time. If he goings to get something, he'll wake up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom. But if he isn't getting something, he just pisses and has me do his laundry.

This is unacceptable. He's nearly eleven.

He is now writing five pages front and back, "I will not pee my pants at night." Think it's mean? You come do his frigging laundry and replace the damned carpet. Yes, he has ruined carpet. After he pissed his sheets, he simply moves to the floor. Then he pisses there as well. All because he doesn't want to get his lazy ass out bed at night.

But we are not finished for my morning! ONCE AGAIN, there are clothes and shoes and toys, belonging to the three younger boys, all over their room and bathroom. They also get to write for that. And we have a rule in this house, "if you don't work, you don't eat." Well, they didn't have their work done before breakfast, so the kitchen is now closed. They have to complete their punishments and catch up with school before snack, or they miss that as well. Same goes for lunch, afternoon snack, dinner...

Not that any of this is a surprise to them. I've been telling them this would happen. They've missed dinner before because of their bedroom being a mess. I'm not going to yell any more. I'm tired of asking politely. I'm all out of nice from asking for the same thing over and over again. I sound like a broken record. **I wonder if today's youth know what that phrase means....** Anyway,

This. Is. The. End. Of. It.

My Bear is coming!!!

Which is good because I need someone to take sexy pictures of me for my new icon. I have a few awesome nekid pictures BUT I think that Bear would be pissed and Fred would go blind. Soooo we'll just have to see what we come up with while he's here.

I'm so happy I could pee my pants!

I've been turded.

Yes, Gordy the chicken dropped shit on my light blue sweater while relaxing on my shoulder. 'Nough said.

You Are a Coy Flirt

You may not seem like you're flirting, but you know exactly what you're doing. You draw people in, very calculatingly, without them even knowing. Subtle and understated, you know how to best leverage your sex appeal. A sexy enigma, you easily become an object of obsession.

What Kind of Flirt Are You?

I need a new picture... I'll think about that...

Hey! The Eagles. Hands. Freaking. Down. It always comes down to them. You know, I like Zepplin and Aerosmith (close second man...tough choice), Lynard Skynard and George Thorogood, but I always come back to the Eagles, man. I really like these guys. They're the Eagles! Yeah!

They're truly vercital. They have drinking music, smoking music, sexy stripping music, dirty stripping music, grinder stripper music, music for making love, playful sex or just flat out screwing. You can use it to chill out or to pump yourself up when the juices aren't flowing. When I listen to the Eagles I can feel the music. It's freaking great...

Hey, I know the Eagle's weren't there, but I think I would have enjoyed Woodstock. Hey, Bear! tell me, you think I would have enjoyed it? Wait...Maybe I was there. Maybe I did run around naked in the rain for three days. Maybe I'm having pastlife memory, Babe. That's why I like Yoga and meditation. Could've done free love. I'm damn good at that. All these great memories...and none of them are mine. Oh, hey.

But back to the Eagle's. Awesome. That's why I'm need to order Selected Works: 1972-1999, with the extended LIVE version of "Those Shoes" (you won't be disappointed...I promise), because I can't find those copies of mine and all I have is a little collections CD. Need. More.

And of course with the very close runner up Aerosmith, I must be getting Aerosmith: Greatest Hits for the song "Come Together" because, bear, I have the most amazing dance in mind for this one as well for your arrival in June.

And that's the music I'm dancing to. Let your mind wander away.

I need a microwave.

Actually, the kids have been asking for one. They miss microwave popcorn. I admit, I miss my microwave popcorn, too.

On another note...
I'd like to point out the handy, dandy little blue handicap icon conveniently located next to the letters you're suppose to type in to post a comment. If you click on it the letters will be read to you. It's so blind people can leave comments too...after reading your blog.

Good thinking.

Okay, I'm going to bed. Night.

Hey! I like this guy:

Immigrants Hope to Show Strength With Boycott

"You should send all of the 13 million aliens home, then you take all of the welfare recipients who are taking a free check and make them do those jobs," said Jack Culberson, a retired Army colonel who attended the Pensacola rally. "It's as simple as that."

Why Blonde Caucasion Females Should NEVER Wear an Afro: a Photo Essay

A new version of The Star Spangled Banner has been written in Spanish. There is a remix also coming out about the "mean laws" in our country that would send ILLEGAL immigrants back to their country.

You know what, if they keep this shit up there will be some MAJOR problems. You know what, allowing ILLEGAL immigrants to stay is an INSULT to all of the LEGAL immigrants who did the paperwork, waited in the lines, LEARNED THE DAMNED LANGUAGE, so they could be here.

I have no problem with people coming to this country BUT we NEED laws that control who comes in and who doesn't. We can't just pick and choose what laws we are going to enforce. Hey, if they're going to just let all of the illegals stay in this country because they have family here now, then we also need to say, "Hey, all of you people who committed other crimes before your children were born, we'll just pretend it didn't happen so you don't go to jail. Don't wanna hurt your kids." You know, you should have thought about the effects of your illegal behavior on your children BEFORE you had them.

I'm not a cold hearted person. Anyone who wants to come here through the proper channels, and are willing to speak ENGLISH, I welcome with open arms. I don't expect you to loose your heritage. Celebrate it. But don't come here and change OUR country to fit the one you left. Obviously the way things were done in your country did not work for you. So why the hell come here and try to turn this country into the one you left? You came here because it's better, you wanted a new life remember? New life means you must...
~C~H~A~N~G~E~.

And don't ask me to feel sorry for people who BROKE THE LAW and then are upset because they may have to pay the price. There are military personel who have married over seas who spend YEARS getting their spouses here. These are people are AMERICANS who not only PAY TAXES but PUT THEIR LIVES ON THE LINE to serve this county. If these most deserving persons have to wait to get their families here, why should non-American smoos get to stay because they snuck over the border or refused to leave when their visa expired?

Those. People. Broke. The. Law.

End of story.

And now The Star Spangled Banner is being butchered and used as a protest for this criminal act. I'm pissed.

Hand me a frigging gun.

And I know how this is going to sound, but uh, FACTS are that the higher the number of certain people, the higher the crime rate. Hmmmmm...let's figure that out. And don't give me some whiney bullshit response like, "They're poor, they have no choice." Listen, I live in a state and in a county with a large number of people living under the poverty level, yet, amazingly enough, very low crime rates. Hmmmm...most people don't even have to lock their doors, even those that live right across the street from the trailer park full of people living below the poverty level.

'Nough said.

Chernobyl's Legacy: a Photo Essay
I will warn you, it will make you cry. And it will make you very grateful for your life. Sometimes we all need a little reminder of just how well we have it.

I have cramps. Someone please pass me the Midol. Pass me the Midol and a baseball bat. And someone stupid to hit. Because I have cramps. And they suck.

HEY! Remember when this guy was considered sexy...and talented?

Yeah, me too. That would make us OLD. Yes that's it, we're getting old. That means that the clothes we use to wear in high school that went out of date, will soon become "retro."

On another old note...I went to the health food store today. It's 25 minutes away. It's run by Mennonites (they're like Amish people, but they drive cars and use electricity, and the women can wear dresses with some designs on them instead of sticking to blank, brown, and navy). I went there because I needed supplements. I needed supplements because I'm in the beginning stages of menopause and it sucks donkey yack.

So $77 later I have a bag of mint morsels, a bag of yogurt covered raisins, raw local honey, loose tea leaves (maybe I'll try reading them...HA! anyone know how to read tea leaves?), lavender flowers (I don't know why really...it seemed like a good idea at the time) and supplements that will hopefully prevent the night sweats that plague me every 30 or so days which force me to change my PJ's three times in one night and soak my bed sheets so I end up sleeping in the overstuffed arm chair in my room. Huh.

The creator is a man. I know this because the Goddess wouldn't do this to us.

I'd just like to make it known to all of my readers that MISS KENTUCKY won Miss USA. yes, Miss li'l ol' Kentucky (who was in our Tater Day Parade BTW) is now Miss USA. I feel so proud!

YEEEEEEEEEEE! HAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWW!

It's 3:45 in the morning and here I sit. Why? I'm so glad you asked. This is how my day has been thus far:

11:30 - Got to bed...finally

12:00 - Woke up to crying daughter who ate too much junk food today and puked all over herself while she slept. Bathed her, blew her hair dry, got her tucked up in a sleeping bag on my bedroom floor.

12:40 - Get back to bed.

1:30 - The alarm goes off on my special little radio that sends out obnoxious and loud beeping sounds whenever the National Weather Service puts out an advisory for our county. It's a tornado watch. wooo hooo. We get those all the time. Back to bed.

3:00 - A different type of obnoxious and loud beeping sound goes off. The red light starts to flash. I go running up the stairs, "Get to the basement! Get to the basement NOW!" The kids are champs and go heading downstairs to safety. I grab a few blankets on my way down.

Then I grab the alarm to take to the basement.

Silly me...It never occurred to me to check WHAT kind of warning it was. It's 3:00 in the morning and we were already under a tornado watch. See, the county next to us was being put under a severe THUNDERSTORM warning (hey...golf ball sized hail...). Of course, I couldn't tell the kiddos this because next time it really COULD be a tornado warning, then they wouldn't believe me.

So we sat in the basement for half an hour just to keep it real. Then I commended them on a job well done.

It was a good dry run. I was worried about how quickly they would react in the middle of the night. Now I know. Got all those sleepy heads of mine into the basement in under thirty seconds. I'm happy. I was planning on doing a middle-of-the-night tornado drill in the near future anyway. This worked out well.

Now they are in bed. And now, here I sit, because, hey! I'm not getting any sleep tonight because the storms are heading our way and I'm pretty darned sure that there will be a legit tornado warning for my area by 4:30 this morning. Why tease myself by lieing down in bed at all?

MY BEAR IS HERE!!!

MY BEAR IS HERE!!!

I only have him until Tuesday, so you won't be seeing me until Wednesday more than likely. Have a great weekend! Happy Easter!

My dryer blew up.

You see, first the belt broke. When I called about the belt I also informed them that my clothes were taking two hours to dry. Then the dumb ass repairman shows up with the wrong belt (he didn't think about checking the model number to see which one it needed, just hoped it would be a standard size...duh...). He tells me he'll order a belt to the house. It would arrive in 3-7 days. Then I could call him to come out and put it on. Seeing how I've repaired a washer motor before I asked him if I could just put the belt on myself. You see, five children no dryer is a pain. I'd already waited ten days for him to show up. Now I had another 3-7 for the belt to show, then another week for him to get out to put it on? Uh...no. Twenty dollars at the laundry mat each week wasn't sounding too good either. He quickly agrees saying that it would "save" him from having to come out here again. I put the belt on just like he said. It's not rocket science.

I press start.

Spin, spin, BOOM! POP! sparks, smoke out the back of the machine.

I quickly unplugged it from the wall. Then I called the warranty company back to call the people at Sears "incompetent dickheads."

So how was y'all's day?

Tator Day weekend was the first weekend of April. Here are some highlights. I have over 100 pictures.

See, it's a big holiday around here.

Yes, that's my six-year-old shooting a gun. If he practices enough, maybe he'll be able to start shootin' possums an' rabbits an' deer for dinner. Yeeeeeee-Haw!

Lookie! It's our town's new fire truck!

Ooooooo! Aaaaaah! Ain't it purty an' shiny?

Here comes the high school marching band. Don't laugh, folks, they're one of the best in the country and have performed for the President of the United States and have performed in college bowl games across the country.

Here's the end of the parade. At least 300 people on horseback. Next year I'll be in there with 'em.

Hey, did I mention the hand dipped corn dogs and the carnival? Fun was had by all. We can't wait for next year!

I'm sick. Send me your love.
I'm going back to bed.

"And thou shalt call her name Dumb Ass, for she shall be an idiot amoung dogs."

I know, she looks adorable, and she is. But truly, she's stupid. Last night we were hiding out in the basement waiting for the tornadoes to go away. Dumb Ass got up on one of the shelves in the laundry room. She got into my soap making supplies. She pulled out a bottle of castor oil. She chewed off the lid. She drank half a bottle.

Now some of you are already going, "Oh! My! NOOOOOO!" For those unaware of the effects of ingesting castor oil: it's a super laxative. I couldn't leave her outside. We were finally out of the tornado warning (tornados in the area) but were still under a watch for several hours (conditions are ripe). Plus, she sleeps in a crate so I was just hoping to get her outside as soon as she whined to go.

No such luck.

Whatever you can imagine, multiply it by 10...100...1000! Her cage was full of brown, slimy waterish...stuff. It was on her. It was on the floor. She shot it out her ass onto the brick wall.

Do you know how to get that stuff off of real bricks and mortar? You scrub it with a tooth brush and hot soapy bleach water. You open all the windows and bring in a small oscillating fan to blow the fumes away from you (super fumes because you clean the the stuff off the floor with straight bleach first so you can get to the wall). You have to do this so you don't gag to death and pass out. Then you scrub...for 45 minutes.

Yes, her name shall henceforth be known as Dumb Ass.

Aren't they adorable???!!!

These are baby Barred Rocks. They're good winter layers. This means that we won't need to set up artificial light during the short days of winter to make them lay eggs (sunlight is needed to stimulte a hormone in the hens' ovaries to make them lay). Later this week we might be heading out to Murray for a couple Aracona's as well. They lay colored eggs. Their nickname is the Easter Egg Chicken.

Bear said that he will clear the land for the chicken coop while he's here. Hopefully we'll get the concrete foundation poured as well.

Right now they're in a brooder, which is simply a cardboard box with a heat lamp over head. In about four months they'll start laying eggs, about three each a week.

You know I live in rural country America because after purchasing these two babies I had to run a few errands. The chicks went with me. We were in two grocery stores, a dollar, and a hardware store. No one could care less. In fact, everyone wanted to see them. See, people around here know that it's chick time. Most people around here have farm animals. It's a way of life. And it's the life we want.

On a different note...

I try to keep my blog non-political, but I'm pissed. I'm pissed because it is behavior like this that creates disharmony in our country. It also creates resentment and hostility between the races. Here are the undisputed facts:

* A member of Congress entered a building guarded by the Capital Police.
* Said person is NOT WEARING their required Congress member ID.
* Said person had just changed their looks.
* An officer asks said person THREE TIMES to stop.
* They ignore the officer's request.
* The officer touches this person to get them to stop.
* Congress member then hits the officer.

If this were say Mitch McConnell, Bill Nelson, or Mark Pryor, white males, there is no doubt they would be named as the cause of the problem (like when that white Congress member was stopped by airport security). There would be an apology made. If it were Shelley Berkley, JoAnn Davis, or Jean Schmidt, white females, more than likely, same thing.

But is wasn't any of the afore mentioned, it was Cynthia McKinney, a black female out of Georgia.

And she is playing the race card. Her official statement:

"Let me be clear. This whole incident was instigated by the inappropriate touching and stopping of me, a female black congresswoman," McKinney said. "I deeply regret that this incident occurred."

***I must note that her use of FEMALE congressWOMAN made me laugh. I thought the two were synonymous. Could there be a MALE congressWOMAN?***

Back on subject, I'm sure that this incident had nothing to do with:

Members of Congress wear identifying lapel pins and routinely are waved into buildings without undergoing security checks. McKinney was not wearing her pin at the time, and the officer apparently did not recognize her, she has said.

You did see that SHE ADMITTED not wearing her proper ID.

There are witnesses:

Several Capitol Police officials have said the officer involved asked McKinney three times to stop. When she did not, he placed a hand on her and she hit him, they said.

Well, I have an official statement of my own, "Let *ME* be clear. This whole incident was instigated by YOUR error and YOUR inappropriate lack of respect for the authority of the officer, a person who is there to protect you. I deeply regret that your head is up your ass."