I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday

People ask me all the time "Doesn't he run away?".  Nope, he doesn't.  Hobbes has full access to the kitty door if we are home, but otherwise he is safely indoors.  And we keep tabs on him when he's outside--although every so often I catch him halfway down the block and then we have to corral him home.

It's a tough call on letting your kitty go outside. While each owner has to decide for themselves whether or not to allow the kitty out, we just found it too hard to keep them in--especially with kids who have the door open and closed about a cabillion times a day.  Keeping them in would just be harder for us.

We've only had one problem with them getting hurt--when we had a stray who was attacking our kitties a few summers ago.  But other than that, the kitties come inside way before dark and they are watched pretty closely. So, while they think they are all "born free" and such--they have a good combination of going inside and out.

And Hobbes prefers out--if you haven't figured that out yet.  Given the opportunity to do whatever he pleases, his favorite thing to do in the yard is to find a comfy spot in the garden.........and take a nap.

It's good to be Hobbes.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

There are just certain things about summer.....

like drinking from the hose, sparklers, going out to play after dinner, and

catnip...........

that makes summer .......

so special.

And Grace isn't alone in her love for the stuff--Midnight has his own stash too.

So did Hobbes--that is until he squished it by rolling in the stuff until it died.

"Adopt A Plant"

Each summer, I plant a few pots of annuals to put on the windowsills and the patio and such--and each summer, I gripe about being the only person who waters the darn things.  Oh, Joe or the kids will throw me a bone periodically and water, but it doesn't happen without a lot of drama on my part--including threatening to never plant a flower again and filling in the pond and.....well.....you get the idea.

So, after 20 years of home ownership and 19 years of parenthood, I think I have finally mastered a way to get someone, anyone, to water the plants besides me.  The new program is lovingly referred to as "Adopt A Plant", and the plan goes like this:

You may choose a plant to adopt in the yard--it only needs to be potted.  If at the end of summer your plant looks like the day it started (or better), I give you $20.  If you kill your plant or it looks like crud, you have to pay me the $20. 

See? That's simple enough, eh?  And I was all proud of myself for making up that program, thinking that those darn kids will be digging $20, right?  Yeah/no.

Colin didn't blink an eye.  He just laughed and walked inside.  $20 is nothing to him, Mr. I've-got-a-job-on-campus-who-needs-to-help-out-at-home.  Apparently watering is not cool or something. Whatever.

But Emma--she was all over that plan.  Girlfriend has not only adopted her plant, but all the other potted plants as well.  But I have to keep reminding her that I'm only paying $20 MAX.  There is no nickel-and-diming me on 40 potted plants around the yard.  And still she waters. And waters. And waters. And the flowers look incredible.  I may just have to throw in a bonus $5 or something if this continues.

And it's the darnedest thing--she is really proud of her plants this summer. It's like she has taken ownership of their blooms and how lovely they are, while I'm thinking I'm an idiot for not thinking of this 10 years ago. 

The List

Okay, who decided that weekends should fly by super-fast while the work week drags on forever? Sheesh. Seems like it was just Friday and whammo--it's over. The weekend is gone. Sigh.

I am progressing nicely on my list of Fun Things I Wanna Do This Summer.  Accomplished this past week was:

• Have an electrician install lights down our hallway. I dunno, 20+ years of not being able to see into my closets finally got to me.  Joe and I stand there in total awe of the new lights--we are very easy entertained. And yes, we turn them on and off just to appreciate the difference.
• Spend 8 hours at John and Betty's house. Criminy, if Betty didn't have to go to work early the next day, I swear we'd still be sitting on their patio enjoying John's mosquito netting and those darn vodka gimlets.
• I actually sat out in the sun with Emma for a bit. Okay, I know all about melanoma, but it just felt so good to have it warm and sunny for a change

Things I just didn't seem to get around to:

• ironing (rats)
• work I brought home to finish (well, I did some.....)
• weed and deadhead the garden

And while I didn't get those things done, you can see I certainly my priorities in order and accomplished only the really fun stuff. I'm good like that.


We've been trying to knock out the have-tos like laundry and house cleaning on Fridays so that the weekends last a wee bit longer and that helps, but sheesh doesn't Monday come up to quickly?  AND it's the Fourth of July next week!! EEK!

Is it me or is this summer flying? Aarrggggh!

Rushing to Relax

I made up my mind at the beginning of summer that I was going to do everything I wanted to do at the beginning of summer. You know how you say "I wanna (fill in the blank) this summer"? Well, I wrote those thoughts down and I purposefully set out to accomplish that list.  It's kinda like a bucket list--without the bucket.

We've hung out with the band friends, made plans for Taylor Terry and his family to come over for dinner, signed Emma up for colorguard camp, gotten together with our friends Pete and Judy, and are renting a cabin for a week.  I think the only thing missing is getting out to Will Oaks campground with my tent for a few days of communing with Mother Nature.

It's a shame that our lives lead to these harried summers where we scramble to relax a bit. We quick grab our calendars when we have that brief meeting of dear friends, planning a date so that the summer doesn't get away from us without seeing them. We plan and plan....to sit, enjoy and laugh.

Hope this weekend finds you chilling a bit. Breathe deep, pallies, and enjoy.

Dusting off the Brain

Oh, you know I'm fried when my post doesn't go up until 9:00 a.m.- ugh.

There are some challenges are on the horizon as a co-worker leaves to have a baby next week.  And while that is sweet and all, I've been put up to the challenge to help with her job duties while she is gone.  Me--rusty 'ol me.  Me, who was a mom for all those years. Me, who is lucky she knows how to run the fancy new copier-fax-scanner thingamajig in the corner of the office. Me, who is struggling with getting it all done at home and at work while I work just part-time.

Sheesh, I'm giving the 'ol brain a workout. 

It's so weird how benefits and employment has changed in those 20 plus years that I stayed home.  Who knew all of this stuff was going on?  Not me--but I knew what time Little Bear and Kipper was on the tube.  And I knew not to go to the pool on Wednesdays when the pre-school came with all of their kids. And I knew how to do some mean Barbie hair. 

Sigh. Life is certainly very different.

So, while I'm doing big important things like 401(k) disbursements and rollovers, know that that burning smell that you've noticed is my wee brain.......struggling to keep up.  And some days I may just be really slow in posting.  Or I may  just post about 401(k) disbursements to kill 2 birds with one stone. Wouldn't that be fun?

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday: The feet of Ducks

For years, every morning, I drank

from the Blackwater Pond.

It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,

the feet of ducks.     

--Mary Oliver's "Mornings at Blackwater Creek"

It's my favorite poem and my favorite orange stripey. Thursday doesn't get much better than that.

I have like a cabillion shots of Hobbes drinking out of the pond that day.  He was just so funny approaching the water, sneaking up on the frogs, hoping to hear a plop and a splash.  He stood there for a bit, watching the fish, I think, and then he finally drank--stopping only when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

Everything in life is an adventure for Hobbes--from drinking out of the pond, to chasing butterflies. It's no wonder he enjoys life--he appreciates the little details.  It's amazing how he doesn't tune out a thing--only me calling him inside.

 

And after all I did for him.......

What is that whole "Love is like a butterfly" saying or poem or whatever the heck it is?  You know, the one where they say you have to let it go and if it was meant to be.....blah, blah, blah.  Yeah, that one--I've always hated that sappy saying/poem/whatever-the-heck-it-is because I'm not big on letting go and all that stuff.  But now, here I am referring to that silly thing....

The night before last, I'm dozing off to sleep when I hear it.  I swore I heard it the other night too, but Joe makes some weird sounds in his sleep and I just wrote it off as him snorting again.  It was the frog.  My male bullfrog was out there.....calling.  I grabbed Joe's arm and whispered "Do you hear it??!" I think he did, but he wasn't nearly as excited about it as I was for some reason. I think he likes sleeping.

For those of you who missed it last week, homeboy bullfrog hopped away after a big storm and a lot of rain hit Weirdville.  Apparently, somebody thought that life here wasn't all that grand and headed for parts unknown--or he was just all giddy with the wet grass and kept hoppin', all stupid-like. Either way, he was gone. Missing. MIA.

Well, I thought he was dead--eaten up by the opossum or the raccoon or pterodactyl or something else.  I mean, you don't have many places to go around here and survive if you are a bullfrog. A big, fat, juicy bullfrog that is all dotty with big green eyes and such.  And I was sure he was a Flat Stanley or lunch or something--and I felt really, really sad.

That is....until I heard him.  And I heard him coming from next door........at my neighbor's pond.

Now, if you know me, you know I do not like my weirdo neighbors.  We don't talk, we don't visit, we don't wave across the fence or anything like that........because they are nuts. And the idea that my frog went there to escape here.........well...........it peeves me. To no end.

So, yesterday, I get all Gladys Kravitz-like and I act like I'm just walking around my yard. (Okay, so I'm Gladys Kravitz with a camera, so what?) And I pretend that I'm just taking photos of my garden, but secretly, I'm spying on their pond .  And what do I spy between the fence posts???? This:

Go ahead. Zoom in.  And while it may be hard to see, there is my damn frog sitting there and smiling at me from the neighbor's pond.  The nerve!  And after all that I did for that tadpole!  Sheesh.

So, yeah--love and letting go, being free and coming back (or not), meant to be, and all that stuff.  Blah, blah, blah. It's a bunch of phahooey when YOUR frog has left your pond for a lame-O one next door.  And they don't even have a waterfall!! It is just a silly "bubbler". Whatever.

And while I want to be all mature and say "Oh, I'm just glad he is alive after all"--deep inside I want to murder that stupid frog.

I'm trying to be crabby....

really, I am.

I mean, I have this stupid ugly boot/shoe thing that I have to wear everywhere. And then I have to wear on the other foot a shoe that is the same height so I don't wobble. Ugh. So, after trying all my cute sandally summer shoes, I only have one icky old sandal that will work. Sigh.  I'm doomed to be butt ugly from the knee down this summer.

I can't walk or ride my bike because of .....well....said hurty foot.  And with all these parties I'm going to, my body is craving some exercise to work off the calories consumed. Oh, it would be nice to have my shorts not be so snug.

There is also a new guy at work that is a total tool. With a capital "T". Hate him.  I don't like going in to work anymore--not even with Irene there to try to make it better.  This makes me crabby....a lot. And it gives me a stomachache to pull into the lot at work.

But then, I see Hobbes drinking from the pond and I'm not so crabby anymore.  I wonder if the water tastes like frogs. Or fish. And why, with all the water bowls and electronic bubblers in the house, does the water taste so much better out in the yard, where he is free to roam.

And then my pally, Chuck, sends me this to make me laugh....

not knowing that I'm trying to be crabby.

And then, I'm not.  I'm not crabby.   It's not even worth the effort trying to be.  And the stupid ugly boot/shoe thing is actually making my foot feel better.

Sigh. 

Hello? Is this on?

I was reading a blog yesterday and the author was stating his stance on interactions with his readers. And while this guy is an honest-to-goodness author and his following is much greater than mine will ever be, it made me think a bit.

His view was that his blog is a monologue.  And while he enjoys exchanges with some readers, for the most part he doesn't care what you think about the current post or what he is doing in his personal life.  He doesn't ask for an exchange and you are more than welcome to move along at any time if you don't like what you see on his blog.  I guess he's a big fancy author guy and he can spare the readers. 

Hmmmmm.  I don't know about that. While I think that most of write for ourselves for whatever reasons, I do believe it is the exchange that we look for and want.  I mean, what fun is a blog if you don't have readers....or comments? 

I for one, love the comments I receive because the pallies are pretty smart/hilarious/witty/creative/and just plain fun.  When I put up a post, I  come back and respond to the comments that have been left for me because I feel that the Duck and Wheel is all about the exchange.  I mean, isn't it more fun to laugh with a friend than to laugh all by yourself?  I think so.

So, I started thinking more about comments and I realized how much I enjoy them.  And I like responding to them. But does anybody come back to read them?  I think they do.  I know for a fact that a few blog pallies come back to comment again.  And when I comment on blogs that I know the blogger comments back, I go back and check to see what they wrote to me.  Do you do that?

Am I wasting my time in responding?  Why do some folks respond to comments and some don't?  What do you do on your blog?  Do you view it as a monologue or a conversation? 

I wanna be the dad next time

I always get miffed with Mother's Day cards versus Father's Day cards.

Mother's Day cards always feature cartoons or drawings of an apron-clad mom, family gathered around her as she presents them dinner. She is all smiley as she's setting some giant turkey down on the table or baking cookies for the kids. And there are those darn ever-present kids.  Ugh.

Then there are the Father's Day cards--you know, where the dad is laying on a hammock in the yard....alone, or hitting the links with his friends.  There is no family around on his card and he certainly isn't wearing an apron or making dinner for 30 of his closest family members.

What gives card-makers? I want the family to leave me the heck alone too. Give me the hammock. Get me on the links or wherever the kids are not.  I want the Father's Day card!

I'm starting a rebellion.

And this is where you'll find me....

Unless the weather is against us, Grace and I can be found out on the chairs each night.  There we sit, me on one chair, Grace on the one directly across from me.  Hobbes.....well.....he's usually sitting on the fence or in the mulch, pretending that we aren't there ruining his fun.

Grace isn't much for cuddling and she certainly wouldn't be caught dead on my lap, but she does like to be with me.  She follows me around the yard and settles in when I do.  We're buddies, she and I.

And see my piggies there in the lower part of the photo? One of those bad boys is now stuck in a very non-attractive "shoe" from the orthopedic doctor.  Yep--the foot ended up having a stress fracture. How it happened I do not know, but after hobbling around for 4 weeks, I finally broke down and went to have it checked out. 

Sigh. So now I have this beastly shoe that does not go with anything I wear AND it is not very cute.  (frowny face)  But that said, I really do want to want to be able to go for walks this summer and do things like wear my snappy new sandals and walk without pain.  I'm thinking that might be a good thing.

Happy weekend, pallies!  Go give your dad a hug this weekend and if you are a dad, I hope you have a great Father's Day!  I also want to give a shout out to Anita's Mom, who is celebrating a birthday today!! Happy Birthday, pally!

Oh, if you are looking for me, I'll be in the back.

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday - Wishful Thinking

I noticed the bird feeder was suspiciously empty the other evening. 

(Don't look at my neighbor's icky bushes, okay?)

Hmmmmm.....

Yeah. Just what I thought.

Apparently the birds are onto a certain orange stripey who thinks 

he is invisible--when in actuality,

he is ottoman-sized.

Phantom Driller

The other night, I swear I heard someone ring our doorbell around 1:30 a.m. I got up to check it out and found a car idling in front of our house. It drove off and I went back to sleep, but naturally, now I've got the creeps.

Of course, Joe doesn't get up because when he sleeps, it's like he's in a coma and he claims he didn't hear the doorbell. And neither did Em. But Col did--and now we both have the creeps.

Anywho, fast forward to a few days later after the Creepy Idler incident. Joe and I are outside watering the garden. As we are dragging the hose to the far side of the house, Joe spies some sawdust on the sidewalk next to the house.

"Hmmmm. What's with the sawdust?" he asks and keeps moving. (That's what Joe does--he points it out so that I take care of it. He's nice like that.) And so I start freaking out because I thought it was termites or something.

But then I look up and see this:

It's my snappy "Wipe Your Paws" sign with a hole drilled through the bottom of it.  Eek!

So while I figured out where the sawdust came from, I REALLY started freaking because apparently that mysterious doorbell-ringin'-car-idler creep was drilling holes into my sign by the side door!  Sheesh. The nerve. 

But then I started thinking that didn't really make sense. I mean, why would he bother to ring the bell if he was just gonna trash my sign.  So I took it down to investigate and I saw that the little hole didn't really go through the sign--it just kinda went on an angle upwards into the wood.  Hmmmm.....

And after I stuck a stick in there about 7 inches, Joe decided that this was something he needed to get involved in.

"Look's like a bug hole..." he says.  Yeah,  no kidding Sherlock. (But I said some other stuff that wasn't so nice because this was my cute sign, you know?)

And then he proceeded to blast water from the hose into the hole to see if something would come out.  Yeah, while I was holding it.  Great idea, Joe.  Now some evil spawn was gonna crawl out and kill ME!

But I wised up and put it on the lawn so I didn't get killed or anything.  And the entire family gathered 'round while the evil spawn clawed it way out of the hole sputterin':

Bee!

I had no idea that bees drilled holes in wood like this. Sheesh. It scared the crud out of all of us!  And boy, did he look MAD! Well, and a bit drowned too. 

I'm still trying to figure out how he rang the bell and drove off in that car...

Wee Brains and Big Legs

Part of having the pond is the ups and downs of the life within it.  As hard as it is, I have to fight the urge to connect emotionally with the pond friends and not get too attached because it is nature, and nature is not always good and kind and full of happy endings.

This week brought us torrential rains and local flooding.  And while we were fortunate not to experience any damage to the homefront, the pond did flood a bit and so did the yard.  When that happens, the frogs start to travel--not knowing that their world didn't just suddenly turn into a giant pond, but in fact, it is a temporary water world, which quickly disappears.  It is then that I usually lose frogs--and I did--my big beautiful male bullfrog. Homeboy hopped away.

So, now I lay in bed at night, trying not to be sad over the fact that I no longer have a frog to sing to me anymore--I only hear Joe snoring and a wee bit of the waterfall splashing in between snorts.  It breaks my heart to see the pond empty of that big guy--his dotty chest and smiley face greeting me each day.  I even miss the giant plop and splash when I went out to get a closer look.  And try as I might to get over it, it just makes me sad.

The reptile store guy once told me "They have wee brains and big legs--not a good combination"--and how right he was.  While I provide a great little pad (literally) for the frogs, they don't realize that life elsewhere isn't as good.  There is lots of hot, dry concrete here and some fast-moving cars in which to get squished by.  Add in the hungry raccoons, opossum, and a giant pterodactyl and there isn't much hope for survival for a little frog in this big city. 

Sure there is a creek 2 blocks in either direction and a backyard pond or two on the way there, but the odds of getting there is sort of the odds of beating "Frogger" on your PlayStation.  And there are no extra lives to win in the interim.  So, while I can be optimistic about his destination, reality dictates that he's more than likely a Flat Stanley somewhere. Which just makes me even more sad.

Sigh.  Life goes on, I'm sure of it. Currently, there are 2 tadpoles working on some legs and one little frog who is totally enjoying being King of the Pond for now.  The snails are munching away on algae and Mr. Cuddles and his gang of minnows are having a field day darting about chasing each other.  Life continues and it certainly moves on with no regard to former friends.

It's supposed to rain again this week and Joe thinks there's a chance he's coming home--but I know better.  I'm gonna wait on those tadpoles to make me smile again.

Emergency Vodka???

Wow. That was some weekend. I'm going to work to rest...... and well.....dry out a bit.  I think I ate and drank wayyyy too much. Three parties in a weekend will do that to ya, I guess.


While we celebrated the end of the school year, the beginning of summer, graduation and a retirement, we celebrated friendship as well.  You know you are in for a good time when the wacky band parents are invited--and they didn't disappoint. Highlights include:

• While there is rumor of Betty and I talking to the tree in Wendy's backyard, I'm officially setting the record straight in telling you that we were admiring the carving that was done on it last year. There was no "talking to the tree", people. 
• "Adults Only" in the jumpy thing.  Yes, they booted the kids out so some adults (Joe included) could enjoy acting like goofs.
• Steve and I singing karaoke "You're the one that I want" from Grease.  I didn't think it was that bad, but others disagree.
• John went home for a jacket and came back with vodka and lime juice for vodka gimlets.  It sorta went south from there.
• Running out of said vodka and sending someone, anyone to find more.  We actually thought of doing a faux "scavenger hunt" at the neighbor's house to ask for more vodka, but we didn't think they would find us very funny. 
• Jonathan digs up a 30 year old bottle of Skol vodka for us to use. The price tag read $6.99--that tells you a) how old the thing was and b) how bad it tasted. John now refers to this as "Emergency vodka"--it was like drinking turpentine. 
• Laughing 'til it hurt until the kids got bored and drove us home.  Kids can be such buzzkills sometimes.

We sat at yet another party on Sunday, recapped the night before, and laughed ourselves silly again.  These are the band parents--those we laugh with and enjoy to no end. 

And while we had a blast this weekend, I'm gonna need a few days to rest and recover. 

Memories.....like the army in my mind...

Joe keeps insisting that I clear my computer of my photos to save on hard-drive space. And while that is a great idea from a techno standpoint, it doesn't work well for blogging. You see, I love to peruse the photo collection to spark a thought or a story.  And if they are sent to photo Siberia, whatever will I do? 

And there are all those great frog photos in my cache....I mean, how do I ditch those to permanent storage? Criminy. What is he thinking? 

Look at today's photo--this was from year's back, when we had some ridiculous amount of frogs all happy and hanging out pondside.  That was the only time I had an army (an army is a group of frogs) like that.  Now I just have weirdo control-freak frogs who chase all the other frogs away. And after all the rain we've had lately, I may just have one wee frog left. Sigh.

I love having the photos available to me all the time with a few clicks of the mouse.  I think about all of those videos that we took of the kids, on VHS, sitting alone and unused in the cabinet.  It drives me crazy that technology keeps changing and rendering all of these memories inaccessible and not enjoyed. 

So, no, Joe. You cannot improve my computer speed or hard-drive space.  I want my frogs close at hand, thank you very much. 



On another note, stop by our pally Helene's blog today and wish her well--she is graduating with her Master's Degree today!! Hooray for Helene!!!  I'm really proud of her for accomplishing such an incredible task in spite of caring for her family and working a really icky job.  She should be very proud of herself today!!

Congratulation's Helene!!  And Happy Weekend to you, pallies!

Everything and Nuthin'

Just some thoughts for these days:

• Uh, is anyone else not wanting to be on the computer like me? I'm finding all sorts of things I'd rather be doing like sitting out in the grass with the kitties or reading.
• Here's the weather forecast here lately:  98 degrees, tornadoes, 68 degrees. Repeat. It's just weird. 
• With all the power outages and flooding here yesterday, driving anywhere felt like a bad dream where I was running and going nowhere. Of course, that was my day to run errands. Ugh.
• With Jim being gone now, work isn't half as much fun. There are some new hires that are just plain weird. Good stuff rarely lasts.
• I have 3 parties to go to this weekend. Could we not spread them out over those dry spells when we have nothing to do?
• I am obsessed with the soapwort and campanula that are in my garden--the color combination is SWEET. (see photo)
• Why does it take so little to make me happy?  I spied a baby snail in the pond the other night--gees, you'd think I found a gold bar in there.
• Got our cell phone bill the other day. Texting totals on our phones for the month were as follows: 201, 222, 401, and 12,910.  Guess who has the most texts?  (Hint: if you guess Joe, you are wrong)
• I would like to be on vacation right now.

What's going on with you?

Hey, Happy Weekend, pallies!!  I wish for you some time to chill, take some time off the computer, and to go commune with Mother Nature a bit.  She is finally here in full-bloom, wearing lovely skirts of pale pinks, lavender and yellow.  Dang, it is good to see her again, even if she is a tad volatile and bit temperamental  as of late.

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday

For some odd reason, we never get birds to nest in this birdhouse. Hmmmmm...... I wonder why?

Thanks for treating me like a customer

I love this.

After being ousted by the theater for texting during a movie, homegirl leaves a message for Alamo Theater management voicing her outrage. They in turn, take the opportunity to use her rant as their PSA to future texters in their theaters.



I for one, will be frequently Alamo Theaters from now on. Well, I would if I lived in Texas. You know, Texas--as in the Magnited States of America.

Oh--Em doesn't find this funny for some reason. 

Optimism

I don't know why, but this sight made me laugh the other day.  I guess I love the optimism I saw in that scene.

Do  you remember having a toy mower when you were a kid?  Remember your dad cutting the lawn and walking behind him with your mower, acting like you were actually cutting it too?  Remember thinking that was fun?

Sigh. Yeah, me too.

Party at the EconoLodge!

Before I start with the adventures, I want to apologize to a pally.

I oftentimes say stupid stuff (about once an hour) and sometimes those unfiltered thoughts come out on the blog. In the throes of telling a tale, I may not realize I'm being offensive, but I am. I sincerely don't mean to offend and so I apologize. The offending thought was removed from the story and an email has been sent.

Sometimes I am an idiot. Well, actually a lot of times I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, dear pally.


And now, on with our latest adventure:

We were in Vanilla's neck of the woods on Saturday for a graduation party. He's been writing about the weather there and the volatility of the storms lately. And while the weather was all hot and humid for the party, the weather for the ride home decided to change it up a bit--like 30 degrees.

And if you know the midwest, you know that a sudden temperature drop of 30 degrees brings along some wind, and rain, and hail, and some more wind--some really, really strong wind.Which is not really cool if you are in your car....on the highway...in a town you aren't familiar with.

Fortunately, just as the winds were whipping the trees sideways, we were approaching an exit and Joe decided to get off the road.  Which led us to an EconoLodge for safe haven. And so, this was us for the next hour--hanging in the lovely lobby of the EconoLodge:

With Joe watching all of the weather reports on local stations and The Weather Channel for updates.

My hero.

While the four of us sat there waiting patiently for the storms to pass. 

Two older women joined us soon enough and we were all trying to figure out how we were all gonna fit into the little bathroom should the tornado sirens go off.  Since there was no basement in this hotel, we were left with one tiny interior room (the restroom) should the weather turn really dangerous.  I'm glad that didn't happen because that would have been really interesting with 3 teens.

We played "Alphabet I Spy" and texted each other until that wasn't funny anymore.  We joked with the ladies and consoled one when she found out a tree had just fallen on her house. (I'm still worried about that) We dreaded the prospect of having to stay there much longer and hoped they had enough Fruit Loops in the cereal dispenser on the counter to feed us all. It was funny for about 3 minutes, then it got really old, really fast.

We finally ditched the EconoLodge after about an hour, but we were thankful that we had stopped.  The storms were extremely dangerous and there were trees down everywhere.  We were lucky to have that exit and the motel so darn close.

It's never dull with us.

It's like we are a shelter for homeless fish or something

I called my friend, Wendy, the other day.  The only person that is busier than I in these parts is Wendy. She has a daughter who just graduated and is heading off to college in a few months. I haven't talked to her in a week of so--we had to catch up.

Anywho, I'm recapping a graduation party of last weekend that Wen had to miss out on.  I tell her all the fun parts and how much we missed her and Steve, when, I casually mention a certain Mr. Cuddles.

"Oh, isn't that Adam's fish?" she asks.

"It was. Now it is our fish." I tell her solemnly, and somewhat grumpily.

"Oh." she stops, "Weren't you 'done' with fish?" she steps lightly into touchy territory.

Yeah. I was.


Mr. Cuddles?  Oh, he's having one heck of a good time hanging with the minnows.  Ugh.

The Tropical 'Burbs of Chicago

You know it is going to be a wild summer when parrots show up in your backyard and you are on your second patio umbrella--and it is only June 4. Sigh.

Since when does non-tropical Chicago get wild parrots??  Apparently a lot. G'ma Phyl has them, but we have never seen them here--until this week.  And homeboy isn't small by any means--they are bigger and louder than the biggest blackbird.  Criminy. I thought I was seeing things when these two showed up.

On another note, I was standing in Target with Em when Col calls on the cell--"Uh, mom, can you pick up a new umbrella while you are out?" he says calmly.

"Yeah. Sure." I was thinking hand-held umbrella. Colin was apparently thinking big 9 foot patio umbrella. Ours snapped in half today for no good reason.  Great. And I just bought this one 2 months ago. Swell.

So, it's either a good sign or a bad one that this is gonna be a wild summer. I mean, if tropical birds show up and you live where snow and cold dominates 6 months out of the year......  

I think it all started to go downhill with the acquisition of Mr. Cuddles.  Sigh.  Buckle up and hold on, pallies, I think it's gonna be a good one.  Or at the very least a very interesting one.

DMV Fun

A photo for your eyeballs enjoyment...

There are times when I wish I was ballsy and I could snap photos of the people and things that I see that are wacky.   But that takes guts--guts that I don't have.

I took Em to the DMV the other day to get her driver's license. Okay, so it probably wasn't the best idea to go the day after a holiday weekend, the place was loaded with interesting characters--not including us.  And as the guy waved us over to the waiting area packed with folks, I knew we were going to have plenty of fun people watching.

Oh, there was the woman with a skirt and top too large for her frame, topped off by a long brown wig akin to the one that E.T. the Extraterrestrial wore playing dress-up in that movie. Another dame had tight pants on, sides all slit up the side so that it looked like she had just wiped out on the motorcycle she drove in on. They left very little to the imagination.


And I'm still wondering about the amount of people there who had difficulty walking. I have never seen so many walkers, canes, limps, and hobbles as I did in that room. I was hoping they were all there for state I.D.'s because it would have been really scary if they were all gonna drive somewhere with those bum limbs.

My personal favorite was the old couple sitting next to us as we waited for the driving test.  The employee called the woman up and told her to pull her car around for the test--but she just stood there next to him.  When he called the name of the old guy with her, she was waving her arm to him, motioning that it was his turn to drive as well.

The employee turned to her and asked what she was doing, she replied that the man could not hear him, so she was telling him that his name was being called. Yeah, strike one.  If you can't hear the man call your name, maybe you shouldn't be driving--you know, in case there is a horn honking or perhaps a siren coming.....

So, the old dude walks all wobbly-like with his cane over to the employee and asks what he is supposed to do.  Strike two.  The dude can barely walk AND he can't hear up close either.  I'd be flunking the geezer at this point--and I think I said "FLUNK!" a little too loudly because the girl next to me started cracking up.

Aw, gees this was one very scary place.  I watched as people hobbled in and out, leaned up against one grease-stained backdrop for their driver's license photos, and grimaced their best gangster grin for the camera.  I actually told Em not to lean back when she got her photo taken, for that grease stain was a wee bit disconcerting.

After a few hours of waiting, Em got her license, the motorcycle dame with the holes in her pants sped off, fabric flapping in the breeze, and ET passed her eye exam.

The old guy?  He took his driving test and returned with the examiner to the desk.  Apparently he must have run over some people or something because they flunked him---thank god.

I-Love-Hobbes-Thursday - You don't mess around with Slim

After our vet visit earlier this year, Hobbes has sort of been on a diet--although we aren't really calling it that. It's more of a let's-just-put-out-a-little-less-food-and-hope-he-doesn't-notice-it kinda thing.  But in actuality, spring hit and now he's outside and walking off the calories. Plus he has a lot less food in his dish.

So, Hobbes has lost a few pounds and looking good.  His ottoman-shaped bod is a little more stream-lined and his sitting on me in the mornings doesn't make me gasp anymore.  He's downright slim--hence the new name, Slim Orangey.

It hasn't been easy though, I'll have to admit.  I have one kitty (Grace) that needs to up the calories and the wet food because she is aging, and another kitty that can't eat wet food each day.  Sneaking treats and canned food to Grace has been....well....interesting.  There is an awful lot of code-talking and giving the "high sign" to Grace--which thankfully she gets.


Nothing is ever simple here. Ever.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday - Frog Friends

See? They smile, they really do.

(The frog count is currently at three--if you were wondering.)