Hell…it’s Friday. Friday night to be exact. Time flies when you are havin’ fun.
The day started with me opening the door to the garage and almost stepping on an inert body. Not human…animal. Pickles the Queen cat rushed in past my legs yowling with pleasure. She’d left another “present” for us. I looked a bit and then quickly made my escape. I couldn’t face it. Not today. I later chickened out and called home leaving messages on the boys phones. “Please pick up the dead animal and give it a proper burial…aka throw the fuckin’ thing OUT AND HURRY!!!” Mark later told me the animal was a baby possum.
GREAT
You all KNOW how I like possums.
I did get my “new boy in town haircut and dye job” today. THANK YOU CINDY! I also drank Bacardi Silver Mojito which I pronounce MOGEETO… like a hick. who cares AND we drank a Bacardi Silver Raz. I prefer MOFOGEETO myself. Cindy did my hair and then we swam in my Aunt’s pool. Well, we held our drinks and floated after I skimmed off the June bugs.
bliss
people…drinks, hair dye and water…joyyyy.
Later that same day…like an hour later when I got home. The guy came over to work on our sprinklers and waaa laaaaa he says, “Hey, go check out that brown bag in my pickup and bring it here!” So, of course I did and it was Clamato Beer. Ice Cold. HELL YAH! My day baybe. We guzzled on our deck and discussed life, death, church, raising kids, sex and food. It was good. It was very good.
This is an amazing man. 101 years old and in his first marathon. Did he train? Why yes of course and I think I LIKES the way he trains…he drinks beer (no water) and smokes 14 cigarettes(blegh) per day.
Tonight, after ‘WINE CLUB” meeting numero 1 of which I will visit about soon. I turned the tv on and was astonished to see a show called CRAZY SEXY CANCER. The girl who was the “star” met up with someone whose blog I read almost every day when my dad was sick. Erin, who works for glamour magazine and deals with her own cancer very publicly, was on this show. I felt so weird, like I knew her personally. Seemed strange. Started me thinking.
Sometimes, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I get cancer. I think, well, when I get enough sleep, when I lose enough weight, when my relationship is totally good with my kids, my husband, when my business life is balanced with my home life, when all is in place…that’s when it will happen. So…maybe I’m pessimistic, maybe I’m realistic, maybe I’m going to be happy with being a tired, fat, bitch who owns a disorganized coffee shop for that reason. I don’t know.
So, like the other night we had a hoe down, for my Moms birthday and it totally rocked this town. Mark was like Justin Timberlake mixed with Johnny Cash and a little bit of Helen Keller thrown in on the side. The rest of the band? They were there too. Slat Ass Suz made fresh as a daisy salsa and it was GOOD and we had pulled pork samwhiches and chips and yes the prerequisite bologna sandwiches already made up on a bun with mayo and a lettuce leaf which are even better in the wee hours after a bit of the hooch, sayyyyy around 1am ish or so. In fact, they are the food of GODS I am so sure. I myself, had a HORRIFIC and I mean HORRIFIC PINOT GRIGIO…I know, I know, it’s hard to believe. But there is a lesson in this. Whenever you are in TARGET and are swayed by the charming cuteness of a sweet little cutsy pie BOX OF WINE…don’t buy it. If and when you do, because I know you WILL be swayed by the site of a perfect square of lovely labeled wine, be prepared for that sumbitch to hurt you in the morning. The kind of hurt that is a sharp stabbing piercing ice pick to the top of your skull and into your small shivering pea of a brain so severe it could make you puke out your eyeball sockets kind of pain. Even if you drink only ONE FREAKING GLASS OF IT. (although, truthfully, I had several glasses(I held my nose and forced myself) and one beer and one margarita made with REAL from the border Takillya)
Anyway, the vino was made from fake plastic grapes I’m totally sure so, consider yourself warned.
I am making pizza dough at this very moment…in my handy dandy bread machine. I’m going to try sticking it in the fridge when it’s done and making calzones or something tomorrow. Mark’s mom and sister and nephew are coming for a stay. They will be here tomorrow and leave Tuesday. My house is a sty, the M.I.L. houserental is fairly clean but kind of smells like ass anyway (don’t know why but I think it has something to do with a sewer pipe gagg) Speaking of which…we were having major issues with our terlet at the shop this last week. Mark talked to the plumbers, I talked to the plumbers, we talked to the plumbers and then…wah lah…when they came over with a tube to shove whatever it is that was plugging our shitter we visited again. I was much surprised when one of them came over to my desk and plopped a bright neon pink “callous file” (still in the package I might add) and said “That’s it” and left. I was slightly dumbfounded. HOW THE HELL DOES MY BRAND NEW BRIGHT PINK CALLOUS FILER GET FLUSHED DOWN THE TERLET?? Not well flushed I might add. Anyway…we can now utilze the facilities. Just what you wanted to hear…right?? I can’t, however…FILE MY FREAKING CALLOUS OFF!!
…and it doesn’t involve coffee either!! hahahahaha!!
yawwwwnnnnnnn…it’s a sad state affairs when a glass of wine makes you wanna crawl into bed and SLEEP…I mean what’s the whole point of inebriation if not to…break down barriers…juice one up…make one horny…well…DON’T ASK ME..hic!! I’m tired dammit pass the chips!
I am having a glass of wine. I may have two…bottles that is. Don’t try and stop me. I feel the urge, the call, the need. I don’t know what time it is really because I have no furniture ie clock on my wall. In fact I have only 1/2 a ceiling and that is purely temporary. The leakage continued today until an axe wielding carpenter and his buds managed to chop through and discard the massive blocks of ice that make up my rooftop. The insurance adjuster was here…shortly after he left…the ceiling began to leak in other areas. shocker Anyways…when I got home from work…which was QUITE BUSY BABY I found: That dripping mess The wallpaper that Mark helped hang last night (corner by the woodstove) was hanging helter skelter A massive pile of PISSIN’ PETIE SHIT!!!! ground into the “woodstove room” carpet (luckily enough…brown) by a shrieking man child (Alec) who was screaming, OH MY Oh SICK AGHHH! My lightswitch in the kitchen shoved into the wall far enough that is would not allow me to turn on the light And…strangely a certain peace to the uncluttered, bare, back to nature living room I now own.
I felt the posting of these old poems would be appropriate for Thanksgiving. The first one reminds me of one of our family’s “Ho Downs” and no I don’t mean HO as in HO…geeze you people.
I noticed the date of this first poem was 1 day before the dreaded 9/11. Weird to think of it now. I guess weird isn’t the right word. Here I was writing of a garden party and within 24 hours I would be hard put to think of anything but anguish over that horrific day.
On that note…hope you have a joyful day. One filled with family, friends and good food…also…wine and plenty of it….and naps! Oh yah…and sweat pants with elastic waist bands.
FESTIVAL OF JOY
Ivy clings to the gazebo
Curling green intermingled with tiny white lights
Blinking
Stars for tonight
A cool tang seasons the air
A taste of woodsmoke and the brightness
A cleaning frost may bring
The last of the mums bob their golden heads
Looking like grannies bent over their knitting
Guitars and voices together
Brush the night with a party hue
Baskets of bread, and bowls of fruit are scattered about
Soup spoons clatter into emptiness as each drop is savored
Laughter and smiles and sleeping children are plentiful
Hands that clasp one another are rough with the work of harvest
But a callous is worn with pride and love here
As we celebrate our life
9/10/01…Sheryl McCurdy
Just There
The chrysanthemums have yet to reach the age
Where they coat the sidewalks with their petal dust
But autumn has made her presence known
In many other ways to us
Our cheeks are scolded by the morning breeze
Then warmly stroked in the afternoon sun
Stems of sharply pointed grasses crunch beneath our feet
Broken to jagged edges by the nip of last nights frost
A hunger for the sound of leaves strolling down the street
Rumbles deep within our aching soul
Fuzzy caterpillars deplete a milk pod plant
Feeding on leaf after leaf after leaf
Fall has tweaked our senses
With her basket full of browns and reds and gold’s
Step outside to see and feel and smell and hear
And watch this glorious day unfold
Our volleyball girls were a tish away from being in the finals of the State Tourney. We won our first game agaisnt a team that had beaten us twice. To say we were ecstatic would be putting it mildly. Our next game was scheduled for 6 pm. In between games the mamas went to the Olive Garden and prodeeded to enjoy. The Bruschetta was divine the Shiraz was flowing freely the Italian Margaritas were extroidinaire! We ate bowls of salad and we munched pizza and appetizers and enjoyed our friendship.
Occupation: Running with scissors and drinking espresso ie…I own a coffee shop now and once worked as a registered nurse in many different areas such as…home health, surgery, med surg, hospice to name a few.
