Weight, what?

While AD and a few others make lifestyle changes and lose weight, (you go guys!) I've made a few lifestyle changes as well.

For starters, I got a boyfriend that likes to feed me. So does his family.

He'll get a snack and feed me bites, (if I don't kype them first) and say, jokingly, "I'm gonna feed you up eventually, honey."

I never thought it would happen. I don't know how it happened, aside from the fact that I've been sitting on my duff a lot more lately, and, well, feeding the children when I have them reminds me to eat, too.

I don't know how much I've gained, since I don't own a scale and neither does Cowboy Mechanic. The Farmparents have one, so I'll check while I'm there this weekend, although I'll have to remember what the off-set is on that scale. It's a digital scale, but it's always been a few pounds off.

I know what I weighed two months ago, because I had a check-up. I know I've gained some, but at my size, every little bit seems to make a big difference. So, I'll check.

Gaining weight... never thought it would happen. I'll be overjoyed as soon as it stops going to places that get sore when they get bigger....

Hey... you think maybe that whole "hey, I'll give you some of mine" joke that people keep making finally worked?

Random Things

1. It's more difficult than you think to accomplish any writing with three kids in the room. Even if they're engrossed with the television. Commercials are the enemy.

2. I don't care who you are, you are not going to please all three children no matter what you put on. I vote with Eldest Child, though... If I have to watch Dora one more time this week I'm going to shoot the TV.

3. I really, really don't want to spend any more time critiquing Traci's chapters. I love the woman to death, and I normally wouldn't mind helping her out... the stuff she shared with the class was actually pretty good. But this stuff is... well, its rougher than a row boat in a hurricane. On the one hand I'm cringing and pulling my hair out because she's making silly slip-ups, and on the other, I'm trying to balance my critique to be constructive. I think I'm doing pretty well, in spite of putting off the last chapter. I haven't said "You know better than this!!" I have, however, been putting comments in wherever thoughts occur that bring me out of the story.

4. Moving cows this weekend, so I'll be at the Old Homestead Friday, and riding, if not Friday, then Saturday. Must remind Monkey of how things work under saddle for Farmmom, and try out Etta and Legs. Whichever behaves better will be my mount for cattle pushing. Farmmom is taking bets on whether or not I'll get tossed.

5. I'm seriously considering bribing my doctor to write me a note saying that I need my dog with me for my mental health. I miss my puppy.

6. Now I understand all those times when I was growing up when I ran through the kitchen just in time to hear Farmmom mutter "God, I can't wait until school starts again!"

Edit: 7. I'm the third search result on Google for estrogen poisoning.

Oops...

I finally got my procrastinating butt around to getting registered for classes today. Called Del, told him "I need classes!" and we started whipping out my schedule.

Riding class, 10:00 am Monday through Friday, check.

Equine Management 1:00 pm Monday and Wednesday, check.

Computer class, evening (blech) 5:30 pm Monday and Wednesday, but check.

Elective, Computerized Farm Records, 2:30 pm Monday and Wednesday, check.

Math, che.... er... wait.

"Do you want algebra or Ag math?"

"Ag math. Algebra hurts me."

"Ok, so that one will be from 11:00 to 12:15 Tuesday and.... um. Hold on."

"Wha? Just one day a week? That's odd..."

"Well no, it's supposed to be Tuesdays and Thursdays... but your riding class runs from 10:00 to 11:30 Monday through Friday, so we have a scheduling conflict."

"Well crap, is there another time?"

"No. Who was your dumbass adviser last year?"

"Um. You."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, maybe we can work something out with Marilyn on the time conflict, maybe ride early, or something."

"Marilyn is good about things like that, so it shouldn't be a problem. If nothing else I can ride with another class on those days, maybe."

"Well, we won't be able to register you for the math class until she signs the time conflict slip, so don't let me forget to do that. My memory is about as long as my hair these days."

So, I have to talk to Marilyn and figure something out for the conflicted days... I'm sure it won't be too big a problem, if nothing else I'll ride with the freshmen those days and be her demonstrator. I don't have anything at all in the afternoons on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.

Meanwhile, my official schedule doesn't show the math class. But I do have an official schedule, at least.

Gentle (and not so gentle) Friends....

Let me tell you a story.

Once Upon A Time, there was a young woman. This Lady was intelligent enough to count to ten without using her fingers, literate enough to read the newspaper without resorting to a dictionary, and not ugly enough to cause small children to start crying when they saw her.

All in all, she was ok.

Well, one day, the Lady met a Gentleman, whom she came to hold in the highest esteem. For some reason, quite a mystery to the Lady in question, the Gentleman returned her regard.

They were happy.

Now, this Gentleman was not a young toff, fresh cut from his mother's apron-strings. No, he had been out in the world, and had some experience with life, including a failed marriage, and children.

Three children.

The Lady, while she was fond of young people, and enjoyed them immensely, had very little experience with this many children, and being their primary guardian, for any appreciable length of time.

Circumstances conspired, as circumstances tend to do, to throw her into that position with the Gentleman's children, for a period of three days.

The first day, they had fun. Although the Lady wasn't feeling entirely well, she had enough activities to keep them entertained, and they had a good day.

The second day, they had great fun, visiting the park, and taking a long walk on the hiking trail. The Lady pointed out various natural wonders, and small creatures, for the children to gaze upon.

The third day, well. The Lady was never certain precisely what started it all off, but the third day was Hell On Earth, with the middle child.

Keeping in mind that the middle child has a minor developmental disadvantage, effecting his emotions far more than his intelligence, the Lady attempted to be firm, but compassionate.

As the day wore on, her compassion, however, faded. If the Lady had been faced only with this child, she would have been fine. Alas, there were two other children to care for, and all were running our fair Lady ragged.

At the end of the third day, when the Gentleman returned from his labors, the Lady beseeched him, "Darling Gentleman, is there any possible way that another could care for your delightful offspring, soon? For truly, though I care a great deal about them, I have not had the experience nor the training to be prepared for such circumstances as have recently been common. I do not wish to say that I refuse to care for your precocious young ones, please do not mistake me! I simply mean that, as a full time care-giver, I am not, yet, fully developed. Some period of adjustment and mutual learning is necessary, for the children's well being, and for my own."



To which the Gentleman replied: "I'm surprised you lasted three days!"





Ya'll, I am not cut out to be a house-mother.



Yet.

Hello NASA!

Was just checking out my sitemeter and when I hit "who's on?" it popped up with... that's right... a NASA computer!

I'm flattered to be getting attention from someone at NASA, although I'm not really sure why. It wasn't a search so perhaps one of my readers works there?

Regardless, it's yet another of those nifty things that sitemeter allows me to know, and another demonstration of why I'm addicted to it, even when I'm not posting much.

A Great Man....

Is gone.

I didn't get a chance to surf the news as I usually do yesterday, so I was shocked, literally to tears, to discover this morning that George Carlin died yesterday.

I'm dripping as I write this.

Just Friday I was listening to a special interview on XM Radio, in which Carlin detailed his rise to iconic status, starting out as a disc jockey.

I've been a fan of the man since I first heard his comedy many, many years before most would have considered it appropriate for my age. The amazing thing is, as many times as I listened to, watched, or read his routines, they never ceased to make me giggle, and they grew with me.

Once I was old enough to think, they always made me do so. I've long maintained that Carlin is... was... not only a fabulous comedian, but a modern-day philosopher, who happened to make you laugh till you wet your pants, while forcing you to consider things in new lights, or bringing concepts to your attention.

A great loss to the entertainment industry, comedy, and mankind as a whole, as well as to his multitude of fans individually.

George, I hope that wherever you are now, theres a stage, and more importantly, an audience.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go blow my nose and hit Youtube, to honor the man in the only proper way... with laughter.

My Boyfriend Is The Abominable Snowman

Time to pull out all the fuzzy warm pajamas, and my big soft fuzzy robe, and my nice warm slippers that I'd put away for the summer, and take them over to CM's apartment, so that I don't freeze off what little ass I have.

Every time I sleep over there I wake up, all nice and toasty in bed, comfy and well-cuddled... and then I get up and start shivering. He likes it cold.

This morning he laughed his ass off at me standing in the kitchen trying to wrap my whole body around my coffee cup, muttering about breaking out the long underwear.

But then, he wakes up and puts on jeans, a t-shirt, a long sleeved shirt, and socks, right off the bat, so of course he's not cold. Meanwhile I'm in a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top, with roughly three miles of exposed, goosepimpled skin.

I also need to figure up a schedule so that I'm actually spending enough time in my own apartment to justify the rent. Four hundred bucks a month is a bit much to pay for a storage unit....