Friday, October 9, 2009


I'm listening to music tonight. 1980's music. Voices of singers/bands/artists who used to sing about things that made sense to me. Or maybe it didn't make sense to me. But they could put voice to my questions... Some of those same singers/bands/artists are still out there performing, but their voices can't reach me like they used to. Our paths diverged somehow. It is hard now to find a voice that speaks about my questions. I still am not good at doing it myself, so I always liked having some help. That help is harder to find now. I miss that.

Monday, April 13, 2009


Trees... nice, green trees... such a wonderful thought... I used to climb trees - my first boyfriend would sometimes find me waiting for him in the tree out front... I wrote poems about trees in Senior English... Mrs. Apple (really her name, not a tree) liked those poems... Trees provide shade and beauty...

But trees can get complicated... take buying a house, for instance:

You want trees strategically planted for privacy in your backyard. However, you don't want trees that get near your roof and tear up your shingles. And if you plant a tree to close to the fence that grows out instead of up, your neighbors might not be happy. You might have a favorite type of tree, but if it prefers acidic soil and your yard has alkaline soil, that won't work. And then someone in the family says, "we need a tree that stays green all year". What tree is that? What if you don't like that tree? And it is possible that you can't plant any more trees anyway because you might mess up the sprinkler system, but who has the diagram for where the lines are? And if the tree that you like has a pollen that someone in the family is really allergic to? What then?

Trees can get really complicated.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Heck Week 2009

This is officially Heck Week. If you follow Dilbert, you know that Heck can be worse than Hell. From my sister having dangerous allergic reactions (we don't what the allergy is) to my chihuahua throwing up on my favorite quilt - it is just Heck Week.

And yet in the midst of all the chaos, I have received some of the nicest, most sincere compliments. I won't share them because it seems like it would be bragging, but still... getting warm fuzzies in the middle of Heck Week is just a surprising blessing.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Very random thoughts after a long day...

Did I ever mention that my husband wants us to live in a bunker? That is his dream house. Underground. Cement walls at least 2 feet thick. Hidden entrance. I asked him how I was supposed to decorate that. He asked why we would even need to decorate - cots, folding chairs, card tables, tin plates and cups... what more do we need?

Now I should also mention that he is not involved in any conspiracy theories about people coming to get us or the end of the world. After 21 years in the Army, he is just most comfortable with very basic surroundings and sparse amounts of "stuff". I don't think he knows what to do with all the furniture, decorations, and collectibles we have in the house. At least he wipes his feet before he comes in the door...

I guess if he really wants to live in a bunker, I should consider that. I don't know exactly where we would find one around here. I don't think the Homeowners Association would be really happy with that. Unless we just found a neighborhood full of bunkers.


I'm beginning to wonder if I will ever achieve my dream of moving to London to become a Garden Gnome Polisher. That is what I really want to do. I bet there is minimal paperwork involved. And all of the different types of gnomes... just imagine!!! I bet I wouldn't get bored.

London and gnomes have not come up in our recent search for a house to buy. I'm much more likely to find cement armadillos and longhorns where we live, but keeping them clean is just a piss-poor substitution for polishing gnomes. I'm very partial to fat, jolly gnomes. The skinny ones sometimes look evil. I don't want to be involved with evil gnomes.

Now of course, I liked the Underpants Gnomes from South Park. Granted, they were stealing underpants and I don't approve of theft, but they were still pretty funny.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

I forgot all about you, Little Blog...

Wow. That first post was so long ago. Things hit the fan so badly after that. I'm not sure if I even remembered that I had a blog. Not that I am very familiar with the workings of cars, but all of the sudden I remember a friend telling me about a car engine blowing up on a speedway, and he shouted, "and there were rods flying everywhere". For anyone who knows engines, you know that was a mess. That is what the days, weeks, and even months after my first post were like. Damage and destruction.

I don't know how - Divine Intervention most likely - but I reached out for help. And I ended up in a really safe place with a really safe boss and really safe co-workers. I still see the old boss and co-workers almost every day, and it is a reminder of what insanity I was in the middle of. (You know I could really use some in-depth study on how not to end a sentence in a preposition. But the "correct" way always sounds so formal.) I like some types of insanity - like the kind I have with my INXS-fan buddies. But the destructive insanity is just too much drama and a waste of time.

So now I am in a safe place that is not really all that challenging. Which leaves time for thinking about other things, such as:

*house buying (Hubby and Realtor nixed my idea of a designer refrigerator box)

*my friend who is seeing a fertility specialist wanting me to find out if I can get pregnant by me trying to get pregnant (wanting to know if it is possible and making it so ARE two different things, aren't they?)

*finding my old recipe for edible play-dough

*finding a job that encourages me to have pink hair

*if the rain in Spain really does stay mainly on the plain or if it was just a silly song

Yes, I am consumed with thoughts of weighty matters. I thought critiquing the writing style of the Constitution might be a bit dry, but it is still on my to-do list.

And even though I have just found you again, Little Blog, I must say goodnight. There are rumblings of mutiny from the Hubby and the puppy if I don't come to bed.

Hopefully, I will see you again soon.