Honk 12 Times in the 'Sac If You Hate Me!

Yep. You read that right. After writing my last post, literally as I folded up my notebook, set it on the table, and sighed with contentment...

the Shockeys re-invaded the 'sac.

*Sigh*

What I don't understand is that they have four cars. FOUR! Now, granted, one is a two-seater pickup-truck. So, THREE!!! Three cars in which all four of them will fit. And yet, they rented a small SUV (Not even anything big - I mean, if I'm going to rent an SUV for a road trip, I'm gonna be a damned baller and get me an Escalade. Just call me Kobe Dobson.) with Chuck and Janice up front and the twins in the back. WTF?!? Chuck honked that damned horn 10 times in the span of an hour that evening. And then the twins double-honked the Jeep yesterday.

I swear to Iron Man that I'm going to go over there one night and disconnect ALL their car horns. Somehow. Someway. It will require wire cutters and the perfect black outfit, but it will happen.

So, it rained. Barely. And, I mean, the clouds were all ominous and threatening and Mother Nature was all, "Meh. Here's your two ounce sprinkle." Bitch. In the meantime, my pretty pink and yellow succulent that's nearest to your house was chewed on by something last night. Half the pretty stalks have been torn off. It went from being this beautiful plant to something that is cock-eyed and just pitiful. I'll have to bring it in each night, I suppose.

Tyler stayed home from work yesterday and helped me take the kids to the pool. (FYI, the apocalypse is probably upon us and you may want to kiss your butt good-bye.) It was nice having him here and I'm trying to think up ways to get him to do it for the rest of the Mondays this summer.

Andy is back to being the neighborhood watch cat. After a several-month hiatus during which time he took up residence on the back of the family room couch, he's now back to spying on the neighbors. And by "spying on the neighbors" I mean "staring at the insides of his eyelids." Absolutely worthless.

The best news, though? It seems I've attracted more than squirrels and chipmunks with my peanut/corn offerings. Crows, baby. I've got crows coming to feast! There was a murder in the front yard this morning (I LOVE saying that) and three of them were cawing. Tyler bitched. I giggled. SOON, THE CROWS WILL SEE ME AS THEIR MASTER AND DO MY BIDDING!!! IT'S LIKE I'M ALFRED HITCHCOCK OR SOME SHIT!!! MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

And, that's it from the 'sac. Da Bears, Ya'll!

Kids are Home...

... and my short four-day summer vacay is over.

*Sigh*

Yesterday, we traveled to Suches to see the kids' play. They did a mini, 45-minute version of Lion King, Jr. As I think I said in a previous post, Heath was Banzai (the hyena voiced by Cheech Marin in the movie), Jarrod was Ed (the cross-eyed hyena that just laughed), and Amelia was a zebra. And they all did so great! Here's their picture:

That makeup was a BITCH to get off! They all still look like they have grey eyeshadow on. It will probably be another week before it completely comes off. I should probably take them to the pool and let them scrub it off there. YOUR HOA DOLLARS AT WORK, PEOPLE!

The saga with Lindsay finally ended on a good note. After a couple more email exchanges (I won't bore you here - you can read them when you get home) I finally got her to admit that it was creepy to have complete strangers come over to pray for us, with no warning. And I'm pretty sure she got the message to not do it again.

So far, so good, your plants are all alive. I'm sure Rachel told you that her marigold is on my porch with my marigolds. I figured they could hang and do marigold things together. No buds or blossoms as of yet, but I'm keeping my eyes peeled for any!

Currently, the weather in Woodstock has been:

Yeah. Who needs an oven when you've got OUTSIDE?!? I'm REALLY hoping that 50% chance of rain for Monday comes through. It's utterly miserable and I would like one day off from watering my plants.

Current cul-de-sac news:

• The Shockeys are still AWOL. I think the Weltz (is that right?) son is looking after their house. I've seen him go over a few times and I saw him walk Peaches yesterday. So, the dog is here. He finally put the garbage can back by the house today. Other than that, no change.
• Mark watered his grass.
• The Champs (aka Parbhoo house infiltrators) have finished whatever it is they were doing to their back yard. I went running on Wednesday and the wife smiled at me as a I went past. So, I got that going for me.
• The Mixers have not sold their house. The inevitable cry-fest is being delayed until the sale and for that, I'm grateful.
• Your house is still standing. Precariously.
• Josephine got her ears pierced.
• As I'm typing this, a large man in plaid flannel PJ bottoms, t-shirt, and flip-flops is running a black standard poodle down the street toward the 'sac. I'm kind of frightened. Now he's running back up the street. His wife is trailing after him. Is this some sort of weird fitness thing that's trending? If so, I want no part of it.
• Amelia wants a pig.

And that's about it.

COME HOME! IT'S FECKING BORING!!!!

Da Bears, Ya'll!

PS This is my favorite news story of the week. (https://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/i-am-learning-so-much-cool-slang?utm_term=.jsaOlaxVv#.dj5QW6k1w) Bask in the glory! MANGLED APRICOT HELLBEAST!!!

A Shitty Run

OK. Are you ready? Hopefully, this story will make you laugh and cry and not run away, screaming, to vomit in the trash can.

I woke up this morning and did my usual routine. I went downstairs, cuddled with Andy, checked my social media accounts, and slowly woke up. I also move around because I need to make sure ALL parts of me have woken up. Thirty minutes later, everything was okey-dokey and I set off. It was my usual three miles up through The Arbors, out onto Towne Lake, through the Publix parking lot, and down Rose Creek. As I got to the 2.5 mile mark, right back at the entrance of The Arbors, the bottom fell out.

Literally.

Like, my colon staged an absolute mutiny. My intestines started to do back flips and front flips and handstands and all of that. I immediately stopped running and walked briskly to that wooded path just off The Arbors entrance and started doing the poopy-dance out of the view of everyone walking and driving by, blissfully unaware of my quandary. I squeezed my butt cheeks and adopted that stiff-walk posture of, "HEY! WHAT'S UP! HOW ARE YOU? NO, I DON'T HAVE TO POOP, I ALWAYS WALK THIS WAY!" Goosebumps popped up all over my body and I was about to just lay down in a full-blown Elvis-couldn't-poop seizure.

I continued along Rose Creek, concentrating really hard not do the poopy-dance in front of the passing cars, just clenching EVERYTHING and muttering, "Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it."

As I maneuvered to walk up the Wellesley Crest hill from Hell, I felt OK. I felt like I could make it. That I was going to be fine.

Then? I got half way up the hill. And my concentration faltered. And I unclenched just slightly.

And a little poop came out.

And I wanted to cry.

I made it home without soiling myself profusely. The worst part? The replacement windows guy was here in my driveway and had to introduce himself and talk to me. After I ditched him, I hurried inside and went straight to the 1/2 bath. I didn't see Tyler, so I did my business and stripped down the lower half. It wasn't bad, but there was enough that it needed to go straight into the wash. I didn't see Tyler on the couch, and the windows guy was headed to the front door with his ladder. So, I uttered a loud, "FUCK!" and booked it, half-naked through the kitchen and up the back stairs, where I bolted into the laundry room and put on a spare pair of undies and shorts. As I came back downstairs, trying to be cool, I see Tyler sitting in the family room in the purple chair. And he saw me running up the stairs, butt-ass naked.

I swear to all that is holy, I would like to have ONE boring day this week. Can that happen? Please?

Da Bears, Ya'll!

PS I emailed Lindsay. The copy of the email is below.

Dear Lindsay,

Tuesday morning, two strangers came to my door.

Allow me to preface this. I spend most of my time home alone. Tyler is at work. Kids are at school. It's just me, the dog, and the cat. When my doorbell rings, I don't answer it because unless I know the person, then I don't need to know what it is that stranger wants. My father was a policeman and very paranoid. I have inherited that paranoia and when I'm alone, safety is paramount.

On Tuesday morning, my garage door was wide open, my mother was here, and I was watering my neighbor's lawn. I was in and out of the house, moving hoses and sprinklers, and in between, trying to shower and do laundry so that Mom and I could run errands. The kids are in Suches and I have a full list of things to do. As I crossed my upstairs and looked out our front window, I saw a man and woman, getting out of a car, parked in front of my house, and walking to my driveway. Clearly, I was home. Clearly, I couldn't ignore the doorbell.

Imagine my surprise when they asked, "You're Heather? Our friends are friends with your cousin Lindsay." As soon as they said that, I knew exactly what was going on.

I have never felt more uncomfortable, more betrayed, and more disrespected than I did in that moment. I have made myself very clear, I thought, but I guess I haven't. So, let me state again, in unequivocal terms, my state of being:

• I am an atheist. That will never change. I will die an atheist.
• I know that God doesn't exist. God is a human construct. I refuse to waste my time on a human construct designed to make me feel guilty for being human being.
• This decision was one that took me decades to reach.
• I've been an atheist for a long time, but didn’t want to admit it because of ingrained Christian teachings. I went through many years of saying, "Oh, I'm a Deist." and then, "Oh, I'm an agnostic." and all of that was a cop-out. I'm an atheist. Period.
• I have read the Bible. I have read many Christian apologetics. I have read atheist books. I have listened to both sides. For decades. I'm not an atheist because I'm lazy and want to sin, sin, sin, and sleep in on Sundays. I'm an atheist because I know, fervently, without a doubt, that God. Does. Not. Exist.
• When I finally admitted to myself that I'm an atheist, I felt free and happy for the first time in my life. I had no more guilt, no more shackles, and no more sadness. I didn't feel guilty for having "sinful" human emotions, urges, or thoughts.
• I. Am. Happy. I need you to understand that. I'm happy. I'm not worried about my soul. I'm not worried about your soul. I only worry about my children and making sure they grow up happy and knowing they are good people.
• Tyler fully supports me and my atheism.
• I don't push my atheism on Tyler or the kids. The kids have asked me about it, I've been honest, and I've told them that their spirituality is personal and they should believe whatever makes them happy/content. The kids go to Betty's and Charley's VBS every summer. Amelia has gone to church with her friends. And we've had lengthy discussions, all neutral, about Christianity and religion.
• We do not go to church. We never have. Not in our 21 years of marriage. We go to Betty's and Charley's church, when we visit them, out of respect for them. And that's it.
• I don't go around the neighborhood flaunting my atheism and angrily decrying the faith of others. I live my life. Atheism isn't a calling, it's a state of being. I'm not angry at God. Why would I be angry at something that doesn't exist? I'm angry with people like you who continually show no respect or courtesy for me and my life.
• I am done being your pet project.

I get that you're worried for my soul and that, per your faith, you need to bring me back into the fold. But, that's your problem. Not mine. I'm telling you now, not so nicely, because I've tried nice, that I'm done. From where I stand, this is it. This life is absolutely it. When I die, there's nothing. No heaven, no hell, no nirvana, no nothing. So, for me, this life is important. It's important for me to nurture friendships and have quality time with family because when I die, that's it. And as far as I'm concerned, you're ruining our relationship. So, since we're coming from two completely different backgrounds, and you don't seem to comprehend where I'm coming from, let me put it this way.

If you continue to try to preach to me, convert me, minister to me, then I will cut off all contact, even knowing that I will never see you, and that will be the end.

That's how upset I am. And I only speak for myself in this. Tyler talks with you, visits you, etc.? Then that's fine. You see the kids at a family gathering? Great. But any more and I will be done. Having those people come to my door crossed a line. It was very disrespectful. I would never do something like that to you or Derek or your children. Never.

The couple's names are Jean and Stephen H*****g. They never gave me their last names. I had to dig around on the Internet to find that out for myself. Jean's email address is jean.h*******@fbcw.net. I suggest you contact her and let her know that further visits will not be welcome.

I love you guys. A bunch. I want us to grow old together as friends. But, I'm very disappointed in your actions.

Love, Heather

The State of the Cul-de-Sac

OR

I'M PRETENDING THAT THIS IS LIKE A STATE OF THE UNION ADDRESS AND THAT I'M IMPORTANT, LIKE THE PRESIDENT, WHEN REALLY I'M ONLY IN CHARGE OF A FEW SQUARE FEET OF BLACKTOP AND I'M NOT EVEN REALLY IN CHARGE OF THAT I'M JUST PRETENDING THAT I AM

Whew! Is that a stupid-long title, or what?

So. What's been happening. What's been happening. Buckle up, Buttercup, because this post is going to be a long one.

The weekend/Father's Day was good. We did the usual "eat all the things" and "take all the naps" and "open all the Father's Day gifts." We all went to The Holly Theater on Sunday to see "Lion King Jr." which is the performance that the older/teen kids put on after their two-week camp. It? Was AWESOME!!! As you can see by the included pictures, the kids were able to meet a couple of the cast members afterwards. They had their first day of theater camp on Monday and Jarrod will be "Ed" (the hyena with the crossed eyes who doesn't say anything - only laughs - perfect), Heath will be another major hyena character "Banzai" (voiced by Cheech Marin in the movie - yes, my son will be a stoner hyena), and Amelia will be part of the singing/dancing ensemble. She was not happy (she wanted to be Rafiiki), but she's warming up to the idea.

Scar

Mufasa

While we were gone on Monday, our shared lawn guy came buy and fertilized our grass. So, I decided today to water our lawns. Our front and side yards are good and I'll water our back yards tomorrow. I used our rotating sprinkler head, turned it on for 30 minutes, move it, do another section for 30 minutes, etc. So, no worries! OUR GRASSES WILL BE TEH MOST BEAUTIFUL!!! (P.S. I'm not telling you this for a cookie or something. I'm telling you so that when you get your water bill, you're not all "WTF CHEROKEE COUNTY?!? WE WERE OUT OF TOWN!!!! TAKE THIS BILL AND SHOVE IT!!!")

Looking dead sexy, amiright?

Toni and I had a blast at the Unclaimed Baggage Center and it was totally worth the 2 1/2 hour drive. The only disappointment? I couldn't buy these FABULOUS shoes because an ankle strap was missing. I did, however, pick up an Oregon State University Beavers shirt because nothing is more funny than a woman wearing a shirt with the word "BEAVERS" emblazoned across the front. I also found a Vince Camuto purse, retails for $300, got it for $75. WIN!!!

I am truly in charge of the cul-de-sac this week. I'm pretty sure the Shockeys are gone, too. Evidence? Check out this picture. Their cars haven't moved from these positions, the trash can hasn't budged since the garbage guys did their thing, and there are no lights on in the evening. I just can't figure out, though, how they left. I mean, all four of their cars are there. Do you think, maybe, they're dead and in the house? And the perpetrator just lined up the cars and nicely put out their garbage? Now, I'm kind of skeeved out. And worried. I should probably leave town.

This is either a good thing or a bad thing.

The craziest thing to happen thus far in the 'sac? Tyler's cousin, Lindsay, has struck again. She asked a friend, who has friends here in Woodstock, to have the Woodstock friends "check in with us" (translation - Make sure the godless heathen hasn't spontaneously combusted and taken the neighborhood with her.) Yeah. Nice people, but they came unannounced, this morning, I still had wet hair from my shower, they didn't give me their last names, were vague about why they were here, made small talk ("You have a beautiful front yard! How old is your subdivision? Did you go to Oregon State, too?"), and then asked to pray for me, with me, and then said they'd be back after their vacation. Fuck. Me. I did a Facebook search (searched for "Jean Woodstock" because her first name is Jean and they live here) and found them. The wife works for the First Baptist Church of Woodstock. OF COURSE SHE DOES! Even Tyler said that that was taking things a step too far. So, now, I have to formulate ANOTHER letter to send to her. I feel like sending a $200 check to the Church of Satan to become a registered member, send her my membership card, and tell her to bugger off. *Sigh* I guess I won't do that. I'll probably just tell her to stop or we're completely done. I may, still, go to the main Mormon web site and enter Lindsay's name as "Interested in having missionaries visit."

Yes, I am pure evil.

I think maybe just to seal the deal, I'll have a Black Mass performed in the front yard after you get home. Randy can serve as the "naked alter" right? I'll buy the black robes and candle, you buy the chicken to sacrifice.

I think I'm going to raid your schnapps supply.

Da Bears, ya'll!

Cats and Dogs

That's pretty much what's been happening outside for the last hour. Raining cats and dogs. It's ridiculously wet and we're going to Suches tomorrow for the Indian Summer festival. According to the National Weather Service, Suches is under a flash flood warning for Saturday and Sunday. Who here thinks the Indian Summer festival ISN'T going to happen?

Yeah. Pretty much.

Tyler and I managed to not kill each other. Yet. I've just discovered that I CANNOT talk about politics with him. I should have learned that earlier this summer when we nearly got into a different argument. About politics. *Sigh* That's really frustrating.

Chuck Sr is home. How do I know this? He beeped the car alarm TEN times. Ten. Ten times.

(I know. I know. He says "years" but same difference. I pretty much said this, word for word, when he did it.)

Then? He came out and beeped it three more times 45 minutes later.

I really, REALLY, want to shove that key fob down his throat.

Hope all is well in Chicago. Here is wet. And... yeah. Pretty much a sogging mess.

Da bears, ya'll!

Irritable Vowels

The t-shirt I wore today pretty much sums up my mood...

After getting into a near-shouting match with Tyler over Planned Parenthood, having four vials of blood drawn, and then having this happen on Facebook...

(This is what I posted about the podcast...)

(And that middle comment riiiiiight there from Christina just about made me want to throw my new iPhone into the creek behind our house.)

I hope your Wednesday in Chicago is going more swimmingly than my Wednesday in Woodstock. 

Da bears, ya'll!

The Terrible Tuesdays

Tuesdays just got really bad.

Wait, allow me to preface this.

When the twins came home from school on Monday, I saw that they had ExP letters in their binders. It seems that they'll both be participating in extra math tutoring every Tuesday at 2:30PM for an hour. Until the end of March. The math nerd in me is all That's great! The mother in me is all HOLY CRAP WE'RE A FAILURE!!!

This morning dawned with a ridiculous schedule. 2:30PM? Pick up Jarrod. 3:20PM? Load Jarrod into the car to pick up Heath at 3:30. 4:20PM? Leave Heath and Jarrod (ssssshhhhhh.... don't tell DFACS!) to pick up Amelia from her art workshop at 4:30. Then? Spend the next hour listening to Amelia sob and cry that she can't play with her friends, fix dinner, make them eat dinner, and then Jarrod goes off to taekwondo.

This whole motherhood thing is great? But I think I need to go to Fiji. For 20 years.

Hope Chicago is drier than it is here. (Wait... hang on. I'll check the weather... yep dry with wind.) As I'm typing this, it's thundering and raining quite hard and Macy is downstairs trying to convince Tyler that there's an apocalypse afoot.

The kids and I called Randy yesterday and sang Happy Birthday to him. I couldn't tell if he was chuffed or confused. Your husband is a hard nut to crack.

At any rate, I went over to Jeremy's apartment last night to record a podcast during which we geeked out over the whole "ZOMG!! FLOWING WATER ON MARS!" news for a solid 40 minutes. Said podcast will be up tomorrow (just go here) and feel free to listen if you are so inclined. Jeremy lamented that his Instagram account wasn't being used very much so I obliged him with a selfie:

Clearly, the Zoloft is working too well.

Da bears, ya'll!

Hungover Hogwarts

Woman, I was COMPLETELY hungover this morning! Yeah. Headache, nausea, the whole works. I barely got the kids' their breakfast, made myself coffee, drank half of it, and gulped down some Advil before I collapsed back onto the couch for 90 minutes in a stupor. I got up at 10:30 just in time to rush around and do the last-minute party preparations.

I don't think I ever want to touch another bottle of moscato/schnapps ever again.

OK. Fine. Maybe sometime in November.

Anyway, the party went off without a hitch! As you can see, it was quite the success.

Even little Josephine came down! She sat through the ENTIRE movie. Which is more than I can say for Jarrod and Chase...

Amelia was a little sad because her two friends from school didn't come. They never replied to the invitation, so I'm going to have to investigate that a little further. I'm glad Paige and Bella were there, though.

Heath and his new buddy Connor (green shirt, far right) are nerds in a pod. Over pizza, I heard them talking about the Air and Space Museum and NASA. My nerd heart quivered. Finally, my little man has a best friend!

The best part of the day, though, was when I passed out the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Jarrod walks up to Mom and asks, "Is this one banana?" It was yellow with white flecks which is CLEARLY rotten egg. Mom said, "Yeah, that's banana." He pops it in his mouth and she looks at me and winks. Two chews later, he was gagging, spitting it out in the trash, and trying to wipe off his tongue. Mom looks at me and says, "Little shit. Serves him right. He shouldn't have kept getting up and distracting everyone during the movie!"

Don't cross my mother, yo.

Thirty minutes after the last kid left, I headed to Perimeter for dinner with Teri and another old ExecuTrain friend, Reed, who was in town for his Emory University 25th reunion. And now? This hungover, middle-aged nerd is going to bed. Hope your flight to Chicago was OK!

Da bears, ya'll!

And We're Outta Here!!

So, you're going to leave Ireland day after tomorrow. Therefore, this will be my last post before you come home. I know you're out sightseeing tomorrow so HAVE A TON OF FUN!!!!!

I took the kids to the Tellus museum today and we had a really great time!

So sad to say that the 4,400 pound amethyst geode would NOT fit in the car. Disappointed that the kids didn't even try to help me get it out of the museum in the first place. Lazy, ungrateful bums. It would have made the perfect centerpiece to an otherwise ho-hum suburban front yard. But, next time we go back, I'll try for it. You in?

Jarrod's main MO was to run around and FIND ALL THE GOLD, MAMA! I LOVE GOLD! IT'S MY FAVORITE! I think I'm going to start calling him Scrooge. Or get him a job advertising gold coins on TV.  Speaking of Jarrod, he managed to choke on part of his PB&J sandwich at the cafe. I hadn't even sat down when he sputtered and then looked at me panicked. Just as I got in position to do the Heimlich, he swallowed it. He cried and I stopped shaking halfway through my tuna salad sandwich. Kids.

We whizzed through dinosaur bones and old cars (snooze-fest) and immediately went panning for gemstones.

Of course, the gemstones are small. Miniscule. Barely visible to the 40-something naked eye. I thought about telling them to collect enough to pay off the house for a month (emeralds, amethysts, and tiger eyes, OH MY!) but, yeah. Not so much. What we DID get was tee-tiny little Ziploc baggies of chips of semi-semi-semi-precious polished rocks (agate - BAH!) and wet shirts and shorts. And I ended up with a handful of purple quartz. Each time they found a piece, "HERE MAMA! HERE! THIS IS FOR YOU!!!" Yep, right up there with dandelions and gravel gifts. *Sniff!*

The best part of this 40-minute-long adventure, though, came from the random 4-year-old who got a kick out of the automatic hand dryers and decided to stand under one and loudly giggle. For 10 minutes. True story.

And then? The kids discovered the fossil room...

That wasn't actually dirt. And it wasn't sand. All I can figure is that it's tiny little bits of tan-colored recycled rubber. It had a really weird texture that I did not like. And the kids were supposed to brush it away to reveal the fossils underneath. The boys? Brushed. Amelia? Dug with two hands like a danged rat terrier after a rodent. Little bits of rubber were EVERYWHERE. Yeah. I pretended not to know them and acted like I was horrified at the feral kids in the fossil pit.

WHAT?!? It was the only way I could check on my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram feeds!

At any rate, we survived and it's time for me to hit the sack. See you on Sunday! Slán, ya'll!

Blarney This

You're going to kiss the Blarney Stone?!?!

Honey, sounds like you're having an adventure. YOU should be telling ME about your days, not the other way around. My crap is BORING!!!!

So, Amelia broke out into a secondary rash on her chest and I went into full-on mystery illness panic mode and yanked her back to the pediatrician. It was then that we discovered that, huh, that mystery butt rash is better. And the chest rash? Kind of lacy. Lacy rash = fifths disease. But... but... but... we dealt with that crap three years ago! I DON'T WANT FIFTHS DISEASE AGAIN!!! IT HURT!! AND MY NEIGHBOR HAD TO BABYSIT MY PANIC ATTACKS!! She asked me what symptoms Amelia had when she had fifths and we determined that she must have had a mild case and now, another mild case. And that the boys and I should be fine.

If I'm huddled in a corner, in the fetal position, at the CDC, when you return, you'll know why.

So, Mystery Rash 2015 is clearing up and will go in the history books alongside Pneumonia 2015 as TOTALLY SUCKING!

Nothing else to report. It's 10AM here. Kids are doing chores/reading/workbooks/piano and when they're done, I'm taking them to the Tellus Museum. Send me good juju. I'm going to need it!

Slán, ya'll!

Hammer Time!

I leave this here, without comment. It's me. Playing my dulcimer. And it's meh. But, hey! It's better than me prattling on for five pages, right?

Slán, ya'll!

PS Heard you're going to French kiss the Blarney Stone! All I have to say is you better wipe that face off with Clorox before you step off the plane. Nasty, germy Jodi!

Breaking Up With Pluto Is Hard To Do

Astronomers in 2005: PLUTO IS NOW A DWARF PLANET! THERE ARE ONLY EIGHT PLANETS IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM!

Everybody else: Srsly? That's cold, bro.

Pluto in 2015: That picture to the left.

As you can see, I've been glued to the Twitter all day, watching any and all updates from @NASA, and squeeing with glee at the comeuppance Pluto is giving to all those hack astronomers ten years ago. Ah, yes, revenge is a dish best served cold. -387 degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact.

Anyway, things have been the usual ho-hum here. Amelia went to the pediatrician yesterday who said, "Huh. Dunno. Let's test her for rectal strep!" Which... apparently... is a thing. And I had no idea. We'll, hopefully, get the results tomorrow. And I'm REALLY hoping that's what she has because I don't need another mysterious kid illness on my hands. Pneumonia 2015 'bout did me in.

Yesterday, at Kroger (aka The Ninth Circle of Hell), the boys saw "Birthday Cake Quaker Granola Bars" and this random sighting of absolutely nothing interesting led to them weaving down the cereal aisle (in addition to several others), loudly singing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" The neighborhood now probably thinks I'm giving them 'ludes. And, as usual, my reputation as a stellar mother precedes me.

Speaking of which AT WHAT POINT DID IT BECOME CHEAPER TO SEND MY KIDS OUT OF STATE TO COLLEGE THAN IT IS TO SHOP WEEKLY AT KROGER?!? I mean, seriously? That shit is stupid-expensive. Like, here, take my kidney and I'll use that money to buy bread and milk. And by the way, where's the nearest dumpster so that I can collect our dinner?

Dude.

One of my azalea bushes has two blossoms on it.

All I can say is... GO HOME AZALEA BUSH! YOU'RE DRUNK! IT'S NOT SPRING! IT'S HOT-AS-FUCK*-MIDDLE-OF-THE-SUMMER! CHRISTMAS IN JULY SALES ARE GOING ON! THERE ARE NO EASTER EGGS! NO APRIL SHOWERS! ONLY BRUTAL, NEVER-ENDING HEAT AND MOSQUITOES! SAVE THAT SHIT FOR NEXT YEAR!

They don't bloom when I want them to and bloom when they damned well feel like it. It's bad enough my kids do that, but now my shrubbery has to do it, too?

#plantpuberty

My squirrel has returned every single day to gorge himself on my sunflower seeds/peanuts/corn yummies. And today? He brought a friend. That's two. By the weekend, I expect that to double to four. By the end of summer, I should have an army of squirrels to do my bidding AND I WILL RULE TOWNE LAKE!!!!

CREMATORIES ON EVERY CORNER!!!

PEANUT OFFERINGS ON EVERY FRONT PORCH!!!

COUCHES ON ALL THE LAWNS!!!

RUSTED HARLEY DAVIDSONS IN EVERY DRIVEWAY!!!

SQUIRREL MINION DOMINATION WILL BE MINE!!!

I should probably lay off the coffee.

I leave you with this final picture:

That's the view outside my window as I type this. It's about to storm buckets (severe thunderstorm watch and warning for another 15 minutes). The lightning is fierce and I should put this to bed. Hope all is well across The Big Pond!

Slán, ya'll!

*Last time I checked, this is NOT a family show. Ahem.

ZOMG!!!!!

I TOTALLY FORGOT TO WRITE A POST LAST NIGHT! AND NOW IT'S TUESDAY MORNING! AND I'M THE WORST FRIEND EVAR!!!!

In lieu of a decent post, we instead give you this video clip of David Letterman and Jack Hanna. Because, really, the only reason we ever watched David Letterman was to see and hear him verbally spar with this midwestern zoo director.

Bless their hearts.

PS I've decided now to refer to myself in the third-person plural. Like I'm friggin' royalty. Queen Heather, bitchez!!!

Snapped

Bet you thought I wasn't going to blog about anything, did ya? You're sitting over there in Ireland, with all those gorgeous, sexy, Irishmen, drinking all that sexy, dark beer, stewing because I told you I was going to blog, but I clearly haven't.

OH YEAH?!? WELL, I'M HERE TO TELL YOU, MISSY, THAT I WAS BUSY GETTING MY CLOROX ON, THANKYOUVERYMUCH!

So, anyway. On with the show!

The Shinto salt must've worked because it's status quo as usual with no angst or stress from next door. I mean, it's been pretty quiet since The Great Tree Felling of 'ween '14 but, hey, you can never be too careful. At some point, her bitchy conscience is going to override her guilty conscience and BAM! All HOA Hell will break loose again. So, I feel that the salt is just extra insurance. Granted, I probably just sprinkled some Morton's that some little Japanese guy poured into a bag, labeled $3, as he giggled about gullible haole tourists.

Worth. Every. Penny.

Anyway. Saturday started off with us taking the kids to see a movie at the Movie Tavern... for breakfast. The movie (Inside Out) was very cute (I cried, dang it. ALL THE PARENTAL EMOTIONS!!!!). The breakfast? Meh. I didn't know you could screw up eggs benedict that badly. But, hey. Time with the kids was worth it. Plus? We took this picture of Jarrod in the lobby:

Bless his dorky heart.

Last night, we headed over to a birthday party while Mom watched the kids. Our friend Brett (ghost hunting friend) turned 32 and had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles party. And we all geeked out talking about Star Wars/Star Trek/Firefly/Dune/Disney/video games. Basically, just mention ANY nerdy subject and we ranted and raved about it for four hours. Good times!

(Birthday boy is not, I repeat, NOT in this picture. Because he was off talking to other people. Sucka.)

Today has been a day full of me whining. See, Amelia has this strange, awful, red, itchy rash on her bottom. It's not diaper rash or anything like that. I can't tell what it is. And, of course, it flares up over the weekend. (Sigh.) So, first course of business Monday morning is a trip to the pediatrician. Which meant doing Monday's housework today. Which meant, no Sunday for Mama. Anyway, I cleaned bathrooms, stripped beds, and folded mounds of laundry, all while watching a "Snapped" marathon on the Oxygen channel. You see where this is going, right? Women murdering their men. Me doing housework on a Sunday.

Yep, really bad combo.

On a lighter note, since getting rid of the bird feeder (ALL THE CARDINALS CAN SUCK IT!!), I felt like I needed to feed SOMETHING. Squirrels!!!!

Me and St. Francis are doing a bang-up job! Now, if I could just train him to crap on Janice's front stoop... (the squirrel, not St. Francis, although watching a Catholic saint take a dump on her stoop would be hi-larious)

Slán, ya'll!

Coming Home

I have no clue if you're asleep, on your way to the airport, at the airport, hanging out at the pub, buying up every sweater in town, or where you are. Right now, it's 8:46PM and I'm in my office. I reek of tuna (thanks, Andy) and just finished an episode of "Deadliest Catch" (and now I want crab with melted butter). It's going to be 54-degrees tonight (screw Celsius - I'm old and set in my ways) and today was utterly glorious.

I actually managed to get all three kids on the front stoop, reading, for 30 solid minutes. They're gung-ho to get a free Barnes & Noble book. I'm re-reading a book from a favorite series (The Land of the Painted Caves from Jean Auel's "Earth's Children" series) and it was so amazingly peaceful to have my three munchkins reading with me. Summer? Is going to be AWESOME!!! I just need to keep the iPads hidden.

Speaking of awesome, you have to watch this video. Remember the song "The Final Countdown?" It was a song from the band Europe. Big in the 1980s. Well, picture it being played on banjos. Absolutely glorious. Here it is.

Be safe coming home and I'll see you soon!

Slán, ya'll!

Ankles, Egypt, and Books, OH MY!

So, I had an across-the-lawn conference with Randall and he told me about Rachel's ankle.

Dude.

I told him to let me know if I need to let the dogs out on Friday, if I need to pick you up on Friday, if I need to hold anybody's hand on Friday, just let me know! So, just let me know, OK? Regardless, I'll be delivering some chocolate cupcakes on Friday because those help bones to knit, tendons and ligaments to heal, and cures jet lag. I know this because I'm science-y and I said so.

I went to the school this morning and gave my annual presentation to Mrs. Denney's class about Egypt. I just love her. She's one of those teachers I just want to fold up and keep in my pocket because she's so sweet and joyful and happy about most everything. And then, when I left the school, this blonde woman in the parking lot said, "Hi, Heather!" Honestly, I didn't recognize her and I said hello back and then she said, "What are you doing here?" And I just looked at her for a moment, trying to figure out who this was. Then, it dawned on me. My trainer! From LA Fitness! And then she said, "I'm just surprised to see you here!"

Really?

Really.

Because, girlfriend, this is the first time I've EVER seen YOU here and I'm here every. damned. week. Sometimes twice a week. Sometimes, like this week, four times a week.

Ahem.

I came home and had a damned Diet Pepsi after that just to calm down.

After school, I carted the kids off to Barnes & Noble (because I'm a selfish bitch and instead of checking out books, we just buy them and read them and keep them like the First World assholes we are) for summer reading stock. B&N has a kids' summer reading program; read eight books and we give you one for free! I asked if they had something similar for adults. I may have been ushered out of the store a bit hastily after that. Anyway, the kids are all fired up about reading now, which should last about five days. By the second week of June, they will be over it. I may ship them over to your house.

Make sure you keep me posted about Friday. I'm here if you need me!

Slán, ya'll!

Tuesday. Meh.

Everyone always freaks out about Monday. OHMYGODIT'SMONDAYSOMEBODYKILLME!!!!!! It's this ridiculous run-on sentence of lamenting and woe and I'm just frakking sick and tired of it. Maybe, if alla youse jackasses hadn't been up late on Sunday, acting like it was Friday or Saturday, you wouldn't be so tired and out of it, amiright?

Which is why I'm convinced that the worst day of the week isn't Monday, but rather Tuesday. See, it's still the beginning of the week, you now have TWO days of not-much-sleep under your belt, and there's still a lot of homework/housework/workwork to be done. The only good Tuesday is an eating-out Tuesday, and even then, it's marginally better. But only marginally.

Yet again, I helped out Mrs. V this morning and I ended up sobbing, alone, in her classroom as I put together the kids' art books. The final project is a self-portrait done by each child and then notes from the other children about said child. So, of course, I read what the other kids had to say about Heath and Amelia. Then?!? I went and looked at what Heath and Amelia had to say about the other kids. Bawling, I tell you. I was already snotted up from this cold, but I just let the tears flow. Why can't they be this sweet and wonderful always? *Sigh* I think third grade has been my favorite. They're grown up enough that I can reason with them but they're still young and so very awesome.

I'm going to be on another paranormal podcast next Tuesday. Yeah, this is getting out of hand. Me, nattering on for an hour while all of three people listen and tune in. We'll see.

Jarrod has been obsessed with the song "Eye of the Tiger" (don't know HOW he found it) and has watched videos on YouTube of "Rocky" clips set to the song. Now? He wants to watch "Rocky." I told him fine, but absolutely NO boxing. EVER! He acted disappointed. I swear, if that child ends up in a fight ring, I quit.

So, to end our ritual blog connection, I give you today's picture of Andy. All roar and no bite.

Slán, ya'll!

Of Lost Teeth, Gardenias, and Baklava

I went to the Greek festival and ate so much that my sides hurt. Keftedes, dolmades, tyropita, spanikopita, loukoumades, and on and on and on.

Holy. Crap.

I didn't take a picture of the food because I was too busy stuffing it in my pie hole. Or, in this case, my baklava hole. Now, at home, I have a bag of koulourakia and I swear by all that is holy that if anyone touches that bag besides me, there will be blood.

Yep. I loves me some Greek food.

After the Greek festival, Mom and I sat on my front porch for two hours and had a good visit. It was just.. nice. And weird. I can't figure her out. Hell, I can't figure me out. But it was extremely nice and it even stormed at one point which totally made my day. Oh, and? Best part of that afternoon talk? As it started to rain, I heard a cat yowling somewhere from your house. So, I yowled back. Twice. Then, noticed Randy standing out on the stoop looking at me like I was nuts. Which is how he always looks at me. I think he may officially be in the "Heather is a damned lunatic and she needs to stay off our damned lawn" camp.

I woke up this morning (Monday morning - it's now Monday night) with an even worse cough than when I had pneumonia. So, I'm going back to the doctor just so I can get a cough suppressant because this is batshit crazy, yo. Even with that cough, the day started off pretty great because my new gardenia bushes are blooming like CRAZY and I could smell them as I sat on the front stoop and drank my coffee. You really need to come over one morning and hang out and snort some gardenia essence. It's totally trippindicular.

And, I'll leave you with this picture of Jarrod. Another tooth is gone. Between that one and Amelia, there have been five tooth fairy payouts in as many weeks. We're going to need those payouts to pay for dentures.

Slán, ya'll!

Greek Food and Rain... Perfect Day!

Saturday started off with a frenzy of making beds, laundry folding, blah, blah, the usual. I've discovered that Saturdays are no different from Mondays and Wednesdays and other days. Finally, at 11, Tyler took the kids to swim lessons while I headed to Kroger for cookie cake and balloons. It was party time at the bowling alley!

In years past, I've emailed everyone in the kids' classes for the party, sweated over the parents who would never respond, called the venue to tell them, "Ten people will be there," only to have three or so mothers call at the last minute to say they would be there. After ten years, I'm finally done with that nonsense. I only invited Paige, Bella, Chase, and Jarrod's class friend TJ. We had two lanes, seven kids, and it was awesome. I'm on the "smaller is better" bandwagon from now on!

We came home and chilled out until 7PM, which is when we walked over to Kim's and Mark's house (aka Paige's and Bella's house) and had an evening of drinks/appetizers with Kim and Mark, Sheryl and Dharmesh, and Melissa and David. And HOLY CRAP! David can talk! Like, whole conversations and stuff! The kids all played outside with flashlights, Will sneaked through the woods and scared the pants off them (the screaming was hilarious) and McKenna drove them around in David's and Melissa's new golf cart. Finally, we realized it was 11 and all the kids needed to go to bed (read: Amelia was in hysterics over the most ridiculous infraction and everyone was bickering except Heath who was drunk on fatigue and smiling like a loon.) The evening was just about perfect. Would have been better with you there. *Sigh*

Now, it's Sunday morning. The Logo channel is having a "Facts of Life" marathon. BLAIR! NATALIE! JO! TOOTIE!!!!! LIFE LESSONS GALORE! and I've been out on the front porch, enjoying my flowers. My gardenias are blooming and when the breeze hits them just right, the whole front of the house smells amazeballs. You'll need to come over when you get back and shove your nose in those puppies because it's too awesome for words! Mom is coming over and then we're off to the Marietta Greek Festival where we will stuff our faces and eat and gorge and then rub our bellies and groan in pain. The pain will be completely worth it.

Can you believe it? Andy received fan mail this week. One of my West Virginia friends who ordered a book sent him a bag of cat treats. His head is now bigger than Montana and he's become difficult to live with. You may have to come over and have a talk with him because he's just unbearable.

Well, I've got to go. It's the "Facts of Life" episode when Blair's sister (being played by Marsha Brady) decides to become a nun. EXCITEMENT!!!!

Slán, ya'll!

Sick. And Tired.

Yep. Amelia is still sick. Took her to the doctor today and the pediatrician said, "Lungs are clear. Bring her back on Wednesday if she still has a fever." Meanwhile, I'm screaming in my head...

I KNOW SHE'S GOING TO HAVE A FEVER ALL THE WAY THROUGH WEDNESDAY! SO MY DAUGHTER IS GOING TO MISS FOUR DAYS OF SCHOOL BECAUSE WE NEED TO WAIT AND SEE! IMMA WAIT AND SEE ALL UP IN HUR IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME SOME 'CILLIN!

Sweet Brown is my spirit animal, y'hear?

I suppose Chicago is cold. I found out that DirecTV has BBC World News 24/7 on channel 346. So, Fox News has been unceremoniously dumped (SUCK ON THAT, ELISABETH HASSELBECK!). As part of the BBC World News broadcast, they give world-wide weather reports. In Celsius. Except for us poor, backwater Yanks, and they give us Celsius and then Fahrenheit. Because we're pitiful. And Jimmy Carter sucks. But that's another story for another day.

I've decided that I need to make the Celsius transition therefore, I'm here to inform you that it's 9-degrees C in Chicago tonight.

This transition is gonna suck. (PS Woodstock is 16-degrees C right now.)

We haven't gone to see the great-niece, yet. Have no idea when we'll be able to go. Have I mentioned that having three kids who regularly catch whatever bubonic plague is going around is a real style-cramper?

Anyway, it's a little after 9PM. Enjoy being on God's Time (as my western-Kentucky friend Claire used to call Central Time) and talk at you tomorrow!

DA BEARS, YA'LL!!!!

Side note: I'm pretty sure the kid in this video is still a virgin.