Sunday, February 23, 2014

Nightmare Shitstormpocolypse

A few days ago MPR News posted this as a status update on Facebook:

They weren't kidding.  The next morning I woke up to this...

after our 6 billionth snowstorm of this winter.  Actually, I exaggerate.  There have not been 6 billion snowstorms because snowstorms can only happen if the weather is above absolute zero, and the weather has not been above absolute zero very much since November, but when it IS above absolute zero, we have a snowstorm.

I wouldn't say that I am a winter person, by any means, but I can usually roll with it.  Not this time though.  After the latest shitstorm I felt like I was going to have a panic attack and I just had to GET OUT!  Mitch and the kids and I went and shoveled.  It was really hard, not because the snow is very heavy or anything, but because the banks are so high, it's hard to throw the snow over the top of them.  They are over my head.

This is the path going to the driveway.  When I am standing on the deck, looking to the left, I can't see the cars in the driveway because the snowbanks are so high.  The next picture is the house to driveway view.

The snow is up to the branches on that tree that I have been trying desperately to keep alive for the last several years.  I hope this isn't what finally kills it.  I love that tree.  Can you see the cars?  Me neither.

This is the deck outside the sliding glass door.  The snow is above the railings, as you can see.  The top of those railings are about 5 feet off the ground.

Yesterday Mitch had to go on the roof to shovel the snow off because the chimney was buried and the furnace stopped working because of it.  Awesome!!!  He said it was hard to do because the snow didn't avalanche off like you'd expect.  It was stiff and frozen and every last granule had to be lifted and thrown.   Now the chimney is free but the furnace still isn't working.

I feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder, but I don't think she drank quite as much.  She should have.  The Little House on the Prairie would have been easier to cope with if she had.  

Friday, February 14, 2014

Happy VD everyone!

Happy Valentine's Day!  In honor of this special occasion, I am reposting the story of my worst date ever.  And no, it was not with Mitch.  Mitch is downright debonair compared to this guy.


One time just after high school a boy I liked asked me out and I said yes.  He thought it would be fun to go "bird" hunting.  Okay, whatever.  I wasn't picky.  As long as they bought me food I was game for anything.

I wouldn't exactly call myself an "outdoorsy" person.  I like to go outside when it's between 70 and 85 degrees, with little or no wind, and lots of sun.  That is, of course, unless I'm sunburned from the last time it was 70 to 85, not windy and sunny.  Then I'd rather just sit in the shade and read a book.  I knew this was going to be an outdoor date and in my mind I pictured us walking hand in hand lazily along a nice path in a sun-dappled forest.  I really really hoped no birds would actually get hunted because I like birds and I hate the smell of gun powder.

There was no sun-dappled forest, and no lazy hand-holding walk.  He picked me up in a filthy SUV and he had a gigantic golden retriever with him.  I was a little disappointed to also see a gun.  I was kind of hoping "bird-hunting" was date-code for "going in the woods and making out," but apparently, he really did want to take me to kill animals.  Fun.

I guess I never knew what bird hunting involved.  I always thought it was just walking through the woods looking for partridge and then shooting them.  I never gave much thought to what happens after that.  As far as I knew, they just magically appeared on a platter, cooked to a perfect golden brown, and tasted delicious.  Oh, how wrong I was.

First of all, there was no walking in the woods.  We drove along a rutted dirt road going about 25 miles an hour, and if I knew I was going to have to withstand so much jostling, I would have worn a sports bra, but my date spent all his time with his head out the window and his eyes peeled for birds, oblivious to any jostling-of-boobs or discomfort for his date.  He couldn't hear anything I said with his head out the window either and whenever he saw me talking he would interrupt and say, "Are you looking for birds?!"  No, no I wasn't.   I was mostly holding my boobs and fighting with his dog who was a little put out that I was sitting in his regular spot.  Neither one of us wanted to sit on the garbage on the floor, or on the garbage in the back seat.

Suddenly Mr. Wonderful slammed on the brakes and he and the dog jumped out of the truck and I heard a shot.  I got out to see the dog jump into a ditch flooded with pondy, scummy water, swim across and then race into the woods, coming back with a partridge.  I was proudly shown the dead bird (ew) and then to my horror, my date bent over, stepped on the little birdy's feet, pulled on his wings, and the feet and guts all came out at once.  Oh my god, that was about the most horrifying thing I've ever seen. Five minutes before that little bird was just minding his own business, sitting in a tree, probably thinking about how cool it is to lay eggs, and then boom:  he was shot.  Then a dog got him.  Then his little feet were stepped on and he no longer had guts.  I must have looked as horrified as I felt because Mr. W. said, "Are you okay?  That's how it's done.  I thought everyone knew that."  (I did NOT know that...Did you know that?)  Then he asked me if I wanted to try to shoot one and handed me the stinky gun.  Um... No thanks.

We got back in the truck, and the dog, who was now dripping wet with ditch water sat in my seat before I could get there.  The seat was soaked.  Mr. W. shooed him out of the seat and offered it to me (ah chivalry), and I sat in it for about five seconds and then my pants were soaked, so I kneeled on the garbage with my arms up on the dash instead.  The dog saw that I was not going to be using my seat, so he jumped up from the back seat to reclaim his spot.  Like all dogs, he had to turn around a few times before he could sit, and on one of the passes he stopped with his wet ass by my face and let out a total wind fart.  It just went "hooooooooooooooooooo" with no resistance at all, right on my cheek.  I could actually feel the wind of it.  Mr. W. saw this and laughed so hard I thought he would crash the garbage-mobile.  I told him I wanted to go home, and to his credit, he turned right around and headed home, still laughing.

But wait, we still haven't come to the worst part of the date yet.

He kept his head out the window on the way back, still hunting for birds.  I was watching him and I saw him not-so-secretly pick a huge booger out of his nose and then leave it on his finger in the wind.  He happened to glance at me and saw what I'm sure was a look of absolute disgust and said, "What? I'm letting it dry."

I'm not even kidding.

What was your worst date?

Sunday, February 9, 2014

I love ice dancing so much...

I forgot how much I love it. It's so pretty just watching people skate together so well without having to worry about the girl getting thrown thirty feet across the ice and landing on her face. When I was looking for pictures of ice dancing I saw that it sometimes tends to be a little risque. I realized that this may be the only sport that a person could legitimately say that they accidentally had sex with their partner during their routine.

When I downloaded this picture the caption for it was "icedancingfilth.jpg"

"Did you fart?"
This one is just weird. How do you end up in that position from a dance? Or get into a dance from this position. I hope this pair is in the Olympics so I can see it for myself.

This picture is from a new event called "Ice Dancing Gynecological Exams."

Friday, February 7, 2014


I've contracted ADHD.

I don't know where I got it.  Probably the gym.  Maybe from school.

Other than the fact that I can hardly think, can't read a whole book, and can't think of a third thing to finish this sentence, I feel fabulous!  ADHD isn't so bad.  I just hope my bookclub ladies don't kick me out of bookclub for never reading the books.

One of the bad things about this bout of ADHD is that I forgot I have a blog.  So what have I been up to lately?  Teaching and going to the gym.  That's what I spend most of my time doing.  The teaching is going wonderfully, and so is the gym.

In fact, the gym is absolutely addicting. I know I'm addicted because I do things there that make me get scabs and bruises:

like this

but I keep going anyway.  That's the definition of addiction, isn't it?

Monday, February 3, 2014

Happy Birthday to my Pocket-Loving Dad!

It's my dad's birthday today!  In honor of Dad's special day I am re-running an old post I wrote about him and his love of clothing with lots of pockets.


I got an email from my dad this morning.  As you know, he likes a shirt with a lot of pockets.  I knew that, but I didn't know how much. Here's his email to me...
I just read an ad in my latest Guns and Ammo magazine by Scottevest.  They have the "Revolution Jacket" 26 pockets... 

 and the Explorer shirt, 19 pockets!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Can you imagine how much stuff I could travel with if I wore this jacket and shirt with my new Blackhawk pants (8 pockets)? I could go on a two week vacation and not have to carry any luggage! Could life GET and better?

Wow, my dad really likes pockets.  And he's not the only one.  I looked at the Scottevest blog and there is a post that asks the readers "What do you carry?"  and then people commented with mile long lists of things they like to carry with them.  Seriously, to read just one of the lists I had to scroll and scroll and scroll.  Not only do they carry a lot around with them every day in their millions of pockets, but they are actually pocket aficionados who seem to be carrying things for the sake of carrying things and sharing it on the internet.  This is one guy's list:

In Fleece:
Shure e2c headset
HP hx4700 iPaq
Sony Walkman 850i mobile phone
32Gb iPod Touch
6 pack credit card holder
SureFire G2 LED flashlight
2 spare lithium batteries for G2
LeatherMan mini toolkit
SureFire Sonic Defender ear plugs
Pack of 6 cleansing wipes
Pack of 2 Self heating hand warmers
Pack of 2 travel sickness wrist straps
1 disposable sick bag
Pack 6 plasters
Nokia 6120 mobile phone
Driving Licence
Nokia N810 Internet Tablet
Serengetti Drivers Glasses
Car Keys with £20 and headache tablets on ring
Pack 3 tooth picks
6 sticks of instant coffee
Laser pointer
£20 in canister
headache tablets in canister
Gloob-Toob waterproof LED light

In Jacket
RoyalTec BlueTooth GPS Receiver Logger
Office ID Badge
Olympus mju725SW Camera
USB Cable
Invisio BlueTooth Headset
BlackHawk Gloves
Sealskin inner gloves
WaterProof Notepaper Pad
Notepad holder
Fisher Q4 Space Pen
BlackHawk Fleece Cap
Garmin Colorado 300 GPS receiver with topo and street maps
2 AA Lithium batteries
Oatmeal bar
O'Reilly computer book
40gb usb harddrive

In Cap
Oyster Transport Card

In T-Shirt
Shure e4c headset

When traveling I also carry an eee PC with power supply

That guy is ready for anything.  If he went out in the morning and found himself:

1. in pitch darkness (flashlight and extra batteries), 
2. underwater and needing to take notes (waterproof notepaper and sealskin gloves AND waterproof LED light),
3. nauseous (travel sickness wrist straps and sick bag for when the wrist straps don't work, which they won't), 
4. with a headache (headache pills in TWO different pockets), 
5. eating corn on the cob (three toothpicks), 
6. needing to point at a person's crotch across a room (laser pointer),  
7. in space (space pen), 
8. bleeding profusely and/or refreshing a wall (6 pack of plasters), 
9. craving a stick of coffee (6 coffee sticks), 
10. coaching a sporting event and/or deterring a rapist (whistle), 
11. at his own office (office ID badge), 
12. taking some selfies (camera), 
13. wanting to play Angry Birds while listening to Ballroom Blitz (iPod), 
14. driving across the Serengeti (Serengeti driving glasses),
15. needing to repair an O'Reilly computer (O'Reilly computer book),
16. dropping a cell phone in the toilet and needing to call someone to them them he dropped his phone in the toilet (2 cell phones), 
17. and transporting oysters (Oyster Transport Card)... 


Dad, what do you carry in your outfit with 53 pockets?


Happy Birthday, Dad!  I love you!

Sunday, February 2, 2014

My Baby is 14!

Kira turned 14 the other day.  It is a tradition to take a nice birthday picture of the kids with their birthday cake.  Kira is difficult.  And maddening.  And hilarious.  I could not get a nice picture of Kira on her 14th birthday because she would not allow it.

I told her to stop it and let me get once nice picture.  She would agree, but a fraction of a second before the picture snapped, she made a face.

The girl can cross her eyes astonishingly fast.

After a while I gave up on a picture with the cake and just wanted a nice picture of my beautiful girl.

She would not have any part of it.

At this point, Kira said, "Mom, enough.  I'm starting to get a headache from crossing my eyes."  So we cut the cake and went downstairs to celebrate.

I thought I could pretend that I was reading something on my phone and get a clandestine picture of her eating her cake and looking like her adorable self.

No luck.