Well. Paper has been shredded, tossed, carefully searched for dropped small gifts, and stuffed into trash bags. Boxes have been opened, broken down, and bagged.
For a while there, with everyone opening presents in Mamaw's living room, it looked like Santa crapped everywhere.
I'm pretty proud of my gift choices this year, I didn't get a single "oh, gee... thanks."
As a matter of fact I got several "wow, I love it" and "ooohhh"s along with one actual squeal. Which was pretty damn impressive considering Farmmom has a cold and can't hardly talk, let alone squeal.
Mamaw loved her bronze statue of a rearing filly, and Step-Grandpa was very pleased with his super fuzzy warm blanket.
Brother got what he asked for, and sister in law went "ooo pretty" over the necklace that Farmmom and I went together on.
I won the bet on who's gift Eldest Nephew would play with first (I cheated, I got him the Hulk Hands that make noises when you hit something with them.)
Youngest Nephew enjoyed opening packages so much he was trying to steal everyone else's.
Farmmom squealed over the Ostrich Attack shirt I got her from AD's Zazzle store... Farmdad said "Yes!" when he opened his.
Brother and Sis in Law made out like bandits with a Wii system and a bunch of games and controllers.
Me? Well, the best gift was watching everyone open their stuff, but frankly, I made out like a bandit too.
Since I was playing "santa" and delivering everyone their gifts, I was the last to finish opening mine. I was in a bit of a hurry, so I didn't take as much note of the tags as I probably should have.
I got those shoes I mentioned before (which SB promptly called Hooker Heels... so I hit him with one.... his fam was putting off all the holiday celebrating until this weekend, so I invited him to ours. A person ought to have a real Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve or day, and I'm just nice like that.)
I got a new pair of Eeyore PJ's.... fuzzy ones. What can I say, I'm addicted to PJ's and Eeyore is just too cute.
I got a wall to car plug converter... which is auspicious since I left my wall charger for my phone at my house, and had to borrow Mamaw's converter Monday night.
Bro and Sis in Law got me a smore's kit in the cutest little paint can, and the traditional bag of good coffee, although this time it was Dunkin Doughnuts, rather than Starbucks.
Between Mamaw and the Farmparents I got pretty much every kitchen accessory I've asked for in the last two years. A Kitchen Aid mixer (oh how I love thee, let me count the ways...) and a fancy Magic Bullet blender... the one with the juicer and all that.... and I won't have any place to put them for a couple of months yet!
And, a gorgeous dreamcatcher, standing instead of the traditional hanging, with a wolf motif on the base.
Mamaw also gave me the spiffy new laptop that I'm now in the process of configuring, and am posting on. My old one, the hinge for the screen is broken. I never know if this time closing it or opening it will be the time the whole danged screen just falls off. With the new laptop I can set it up so that the old one is a stationary unit, and just leave it open.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go pet my presents some more.... hehehe.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
'Tis The Night Before Christmas... Eve....
And all through the house,
Not a dog is stirring,
Though the cat stares at a mouse.
Thermal socks are slung over the radiator with care,
In hopes that come morning toasty toes will be there.
Farmmom and Pop are all snug in their bed,
While visions of Hawaii surely dance in their heads.
And I in my sweater, and Noel wide awake,
Are waiting so patiently for the pumpkin custard to bake.
Tomorrow we'll feast, and open our gifts,
For tonight I have pups, and my hefty cat Ziff.
All in all it was good, a real family tradition,
Farmmom and I, at the table a-dishin.
Recalling years past and the way things have changed,
Telling tales on each other, and friends... best not named.
No hot mulled wine, no hard apple cider,
We're crazy enough, we couldn't be tighter.
Tomorrow is time for the Fam and those things,
Tonight was for us, and the joy that that brings.
The nephews will reach for their gifts full of glee,
Seeing their faces is the best part for me.
We'll eat and we'll laugh, and all will be well,
What will come in the new year, only time will tell.
I fear I must leave you, for I'm out of rhymes,
But I'll wish you much joy, and the best of times.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Not a dog is stirring,
Though the cat stares at a mouse.
Thermal socks are slung over the radiator with care,
In hopes that come morning toasty toes will be there.
Farmmom and Pop are all snug in their bed,
While visions of Hawaii surely dance in their heads.
And I in my sweater, and Noel wide awake,
Are waiting so patiently for the pumpkin custard to bake.
Tomorrow we'll feast, and open our gifts,
For tonight I have pups, and my hefty cat Ziff.
All in all it was good, a real family tradition,
Farmmom and I, at the table a-dishin.
Recalling years past and the way things have changed,
Telling tales on each other, and friends... best not named.
No hot mulled wine, no hard apple cider,
We're crazy enough, we couldn't be tighter.
Tomorrow is time for the Fam and those things,
Tonight was for us, and the joy that that brings.
The nephews will reach for their gifts full of glee,
Seeing their faces is the best part for me.
We'll eat and we'll laugh, and all will be well,
What will come in the new year, only time will tell.
I fear I must leave you, for I'm out of rhymes,
But I'll wish you much joy, and the best of times.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Wow. I'm a Weirdo... TV Edition
We all know that I'm a bit... odd. Especially those folks that have known me in an "online" sense for years (Yes, I'm talking about you, Josh) and those who know me on the other side of the computer screen.
(A while back I was actually approached in the real world by someone who reads my blog and knows who I am. She's an acquaintance of Mamaw's, but she complimented me on my scribblings and made a point to tell me that she read. I'd like to thank her, cause that just blew my mind at a time when my mind needed blowing.... or something along those lines that doesn't sound quite so dirty...)
My lust for all things electronic and nifty, paired with my at times overwhelming urges to be, literally, in the middle of nowhere.
My lack of interest, and frankly skill, at the girly arts of hair and makeup, paired with an unfortunate yen for snazzy shoes that then stare forlornly at me from the bottom of my closet as I yet again pull on a pair of work or "cowboy" type boots.
Odd. That's me.
But, some of the greatest examples of my weirdness come blaring out of the TV screen... Here's some examples:
1. I love Bones, House, ER, CSI: Miami (it's all about waiting for that moment when Horatio gives his dramatic pause, usually paired with either putting on or taking off his sunglasses.)
2. Farmmom and I were entirely addicted to Gilmore Girls. Like, every Tuesday night, and later Wednesday night, without fail, no matter where we were, whether we were together or not, we would sit down and watch. If we were apart, we could sometimes refrain from calling until after the show to go "Oh. My. God... can you believe what Jess did??"
Farmdad learned quickly to pretend to be invisible for an hour. We would discuss the show when it wasn't on, and speculate about what would happen next. Obscure references were made. Quotes are still thrown around. We have the first four seasons on DVD.
We threw a farewell party the night of the series finale. We cried.
3. I'm often caught by odd "informational" shows. I've seen how they make sink drains, pencils, M&M's and Airplanes. I've watched as the most boring people in the world, assisted by people with a little more skill in presentation, show me tombs of rulers long gone, theorize about who was banging who four thousand years ago, and somehow... wow... find entire countries that are only obliquely mentioned in any known recorded history.
4. I've banned myself from watching Animal Planet. I don't always succeed in my determination not to tune to that channel, but I try. Animal Cops invariably pisses me off and makes me cry, no matter what city they're in. And it's always on.
5. HBO is the debil when it comes to wasting time when I really should be doing something constructive. Taxicab Confessions... just... wow. Cathouse... again wow. Seriously, I don't think I could manage being a prostitute myself, but that show always makes a little part of me want to try it. Real Sex... just flat out fucking fascinates me. Forget Skinemax for late night naughtyvision, HBO takes it to a whole new level. Sometimes, a very creepy level....
6. True Blood gets a whole number to itself. I started watching because I love the Sookie Stackhouse books. I kept watching, in spite of being able to sit in my recliner and tell myself what was going to happen next, because it just rawks.
7. Deadwood. 'Nuff Said.
8. I can sing the entire theme song for the Wonderpets. In fact, it's an earworm that never quite goes away.
9. Infomercials. I never buy anything, but I can't resist seeing what crap they're trying to sell now.
10. Food Network. In spite of the fact that I can't find half of the ingredients of the things that I really want to try, and at least half of the things I see on there make me go "waitaminute... what?" I can't resist. Alton Brown can give me tunnel vision in ten seconds flat.
I think that's enough for now. Add in the fact that I bounce between all of these things, and more, with no coherent pattern (Real Sex to Gilmore Girls reruns to Bones to Wonderpets to Food Network to.... you get the picture) and it's just another layer to my sometimes borderline crazyness.
(A while back I was actually approached in the real world by someone who reads my blog and knows who I am. She's an acquaintance of Mamaw's, but she complimented me on my scribblings and made a point to tell me that she read. I'd like to thank her, cause that just blew my mind at a time when my mind needed blowing.... or something along those lines that doesn't sound quite so dirty...)
My lust for all things electronic and nifty, paired with my at times overwhelming urges to be, literally, in the middle of nowhere.
My lack of interest, and frankly skill, at the girly arts of hair and makeup, paired with an unfortunate yen for snazzy shoes that then stare forlornly at me from the bottom of my closet as I yet again pull on a pair of work or "cowboy" type boots.
Odd. That's me.
But, some of the greatest examples of my weirdness come blaring out of the TV screen... Here's some examples:
1. I love Bones, House, ER, CSI: Miami (it's all about waiting for that moment when Horatio gives his dramatic pause, usually paired with either putting on or taking off his sunglasses.)
2. Farmmom and I were entirely addicted to Gilmore Girls. Like, every Tuesday night, and later Wednesday night, without fail, no matter where we were, whether we were together or not, we would sit down and watch. If we were apart, we could sometimes refrain from calling until after the show to go "Oh. My. God... can you believe what Jess did??"
Farmdad learned quickly to pretend to be invisible for an hour. We would discuss the show when it wasn't on, and speculate about what would happen next. Obscure references were made. Quotes are still thrown around. We have the first four seasons on DVD.
We threw a farewell party the night of the series finale. We cried.
3. I'm often caught by odd "informational" shows. I've seen how they make sink drains, pencils, M&M's and Airplanes. I've watched as the most boring people in the world, assisted by people with a little more skill in presentation, show me tombs of rulers long gone, theorize about who was banging who four thousand years ago, and somehow... wow... find entire countries that are only obliquely mentioned in any known recorded history.
4. I've banned myself from watching Animal Planet. I don't always succeed in my determination not to tune to that channel, but I try. Animal Cops invariably pisses me off and makes me cry, no matter what city they're in. And it's always on.
5. HBO is the debil when it comes to wasting time when I really should be doing something constructive. Taxicab Confessions... just... wow. Cathouse... again wow. Seriously, I don't think I could manage being a prostitute myself, but that show always makes a little part of me want to try it. Real Sex... just flat out fucking fascinates me. Forget Skinemax for late night naughtyvision, HBO takes it to a whole new level. Sometimes, a very creepy level....
6. True Blood gets a whole number to itself. I started watching because I love the Sookie Stackhouse books. I kept watching, in spite of being able to sit in my recliner and tell myself what was going to happen next, because it just rawks.
7. Deadwood. 'Nuff Said.
8. I can sing the entire theme song for the Wonderpets. In fact, it's an earworm that never quite goes away.
9. Infomercials. I never buy anything, but I can't resist seeing what crap they're trying to sell now.
10. Food Network. In spite of the fact that I can't find half of the ingredients of the things that I really want to try, and at least half of the things I see on there make me go "waitaminute... what?" I can't resist. Alton Brown can give me tunnel vision in ten seconds flat.
I think that's enough for now. Add in the fact that I bounce between all of these things, and more, with no coherent pattern (Real Sex to Gilmore Girls reruns to Bones to Wonderpets to Food Network to.... you get the picture) and it's just another layer to my sometimes borderline crazyness.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Ahhh, Holidays
It's that time of year again, when people put up trees, trim them with care, adorn their houses with greenery and lights....
A miserable time of year.
Don't get me wrong, I love the holidays. Time with the family, finding the perfect gifts, the anticipation, waiting to find out what is in the pretty packages.... (shut up, Farm Family. I'll tell that story when I'm damn good and ready.)
Not to mention the beautiful decorations and scent of evergreen everywhere....
There's just one teensy little problem.
I'm violently allergic to "real" evergreen plants, when they start to dry out.
I don't mean stuffed up nose, sneezing, sinus headache kind of allergic. I mean, the last time we had a real tree, Farmmom darn near hauled me to the ER, cause I was one sick little kid.
Every year since then, I've been a little sad when we put up the tree. I love the smell of a real tree, to the point that when Farmmom and I were in Yellowstone, I literally rolled down the window and hung my head out as we entered the forest lanes.
No joke.
Unfortunately, I'm allergic enough that it's a situation where I'm absolutely miserable. Like, so much snot running down the back of my throat that I puke, eyes swollen nearly shut, sneezing hard enough I'm pretty sure my brain is getting bruised from the whiplash, coughing wheezing wanna die now kind of miserable.
Of course, 90% of the world has real trees, and real wreaths on the door, and in extreme cases, real garlands along the eves of their homes.
Including my high school.
For some reason, no matter how many phone calls Farmmom made, doctors notes I took in, or days I spent skipping classes to sit in the principal's office hacking up a lung, they never got the picture.
Every year they would have a real tree in the foyer/lobby area, which I had to walk through to get to classes, and which is where we were required to go during our "brunch."
The first week or so would be ok. They'd keep the tree well watered, take real good care of it, and I'd only get mildly stuffed up. As time went on, though, the caretakers of the tree would start to slack, and it would start to dry out. And I would get progressively sicker.
On the bright side, I usually got to start my Christmas Break a few days early.
Anyway, when we were shopping last week, Sam's Club had a display of wreaths, and I just had to smell them. I told you, I love the smell. I think it's genetic, this unhealthy draw towards things that you're horribly allergic to. Farmmom can lick her fingers after touching a slice of cantaloupe and break out in hives all over, but she loves cantaloupe. Every summer Farmdad gets stuffed with it, because she'll buy it and cut it up just so she can smell it.
So, Tuesday I got a little stuffed up. Apparently the wreaths weren't quite as fresh as the sign claimed... I can live with that, though.
Unfortunately, I think my neighbors have a real tree. Today, I've been sneezing, and had a bit of a headache, with itchy eyes and the various little signs that I recall from my highschool days.
Luckily, I'm going back to the Old Homestead tomorrow, so it should clear up ok.
I've been trying for the last few years to convince the Farm Family to buy one of those potted trees, and try it. I figure, it's a live tree, it's not going to dry out, which is the stage where I have real problems, it should be ok, right? They keep telling me no... I don't see why not, though. If I'm wrong, I'm the one who will be miserable.
'Course, if they're right, they'll have to put up with my whiny ass, so I guess they have a say in it.....
A miserable time of year.
Don't get me wrong, I love the holidays. Time with the family, finding the perfect gifts, the anticipation, waiting to find out what is in the pretty packages.... (shut up, Farm Family. I'll tell that story when I'm damn good and ready.)
Not to mention the beautiful decorations and scent of evergreen everywhere....
There's just one teensy little problem.
I'm violently allergic to "real" evergreen plants, when they start to dry out.
I don't mean stuffed up nose, sneezing, sinus headache kind of allergic. I mean, the last time we had a real tree, Farmmom darn near hauled me to the ER, cause I was one sick little kid.
Every year since then, I've been a little sad when we put up the tree. I love the smell of a real tree, to the point that when Farmmom and I were in Yellowstone, I literally rolled down the window and hung my head out as we entered the forest lanes.
No joke.
Unfortunately, I'm allergic enough that it's a situation where I'm absolutely miserable. Like, so much snot running down the back of my throat that I puke, eyes swollen nearly shut, sneezing hard enough I'm pretty sure my brain is getting bruised from the whiplash, coughing wheezing wanna die now kind of miserable.
Of course, 90% of the world has real trees, and real wreaths on the door, and in extreme cases, real garlands along the eves of their homes.
Including my high school.
For some reason, no matter how many phone calls Farmmom made, doctors notes I took in, or days I spent skipping classes to sit in the principal's office hacking up a lung, they never got the picture.
Every year they would have a real tree in the foyer/lobby area, which I had to walk through to get to classes, and which is where we were required to go during our "brunch."
The first week or so would be ok. They'd keep the tree well watered, take real good care of it, and I'd only get mildly stuffed up. As time went on, though, the caretakers of the tree would start to slack, and it would start to dry out. And I would get progressively sicker.
On the bright side, I usually got to start my Christmas Break a few days early.
Anyway, when we were shopping last week, Sam's Club had a display of wreaths, and I just had to smell them. I told you, I love the smell. I think it's genetic, this unhealthy draw towards things that you're horribly allergic to. Farmmom can lick her fingers after touching a slice of cantaloupe and break out in hives all over, but she loves cantaloupe. Every summer Farmdad gets stuffed with it, because she'll buy it and cut it up just so she can smell it.
So, Tuesday I got a little stuffed up. Apparently the wreaths weren't quite as fresh as the sign claimed... I can live with that, though.
Unfortunately, I think my neighbors have a real tree. Today, I've been sneezing, and had a bit of a headache, with itchy eyes and the various little signs that I recall from my highschool days.
Luckily, I'm going back to the Old Homestead tomorrow, so it should clear up ok.
I've been trying for the last few years to convince the Farm Family to buy one of those potted trees, and try it. I figure, it's a live tree, it's not going to dry out, which is the stage where I have real problems, it should be ok, right? They keep telling me no... I don't see why not, though. If I'm wrong, I'm the one who will be miserable.
'Course, if they're right, they'll have to put up with my whiny ass, so I guess they have a say in it.....
Thursday, December 18, 2008
What's Been Happening?
So, I've gotten a couple of emails since the last post (and by the way, thank you to everyone for your kind words and support... I feel amazingly blessed that people out there on the intarwebz not only give a hoot about my little blog but come out in droves just to give me a figurative hug when I'm down) wondering what's up.
So, lets take this week... Friday, I took my last final, found out what I'd gotten on my other final (passed the class, with a B, this makes me happy) picked up a suitcase, the Dawgs (oh, yeah, I got a new pup... a six month old male miniature schnauser... he's thick as a post but cute as a button) and hit Safeway because they had Pepsi products buy two get three free. Picked up ten twelve-packs of Mountain Dew for Mamaw, stuffed them in the trunk, and headed for the Old Homestead.
Got here in time to watch round nine of the NFR on the big screen, with Mamaw, Bill, and SB (who wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to watch bull riding on a fifty inch hi def) with much hooting and hollering by myself and SB.
Saturday I replaced/repaired the plastic on Mamaw's windows, which turned into an all day ordeal, since nothing wanted to go right. Saturday night we watched round ten of the NFR, which SB missed because his ex gf showed up begging him to take her back and he couldn't get loose.
Sunday, it was cold and nasty out so I decided to stay over one more day and go back to my house Monday. So, I puttered around the house for Mamaw and got some stuff done here. Monday, I puttered some more, and we decided to go Christmas Shopping Tuesday, so I figured there was no point in hauling the dogs home just to leave them shut up in the house all day, when I could stay one more night and they could play in a big yard all day instead. That night, SB and I went out to drive around and look at the Christmas Lights and talk.
(I swear, I need to carry a 2X4 around with "I'm not ugly" on one side and "I'm a good person who deserves to be happy" on the other. That boy has no self esteem, and maybe if I beat him over the head with it enough he'd get the picture.)
Tuesday. Yikes. We got all the shopping done (I swear every year that I'm going to start my shopping in June, and I never do....) but it was still a long day. I can't even brag about the perfect gifts I got people, cause they all read my blog!
So, Wednesday. I was going to go home Wednesday, but about twenty minutes before I was going to get my stuff together and get on the road, I got a phone call from one of the neighbors out in the country... the cows were out. So were the horses.
I spent all afternoon yesterday pushing cows around and making my horse, and SB's horse, mad. Farmmom got there to check the cows in good time to push some that I'd cut off on my way in... they were headed for Kansas, so I got them pushed onto the neighbor's wheat, figured they'd stay for a while, and went to get the horses since I didn't know where they were. I was planning on calling Mamaw and having her bring my tack out so I could get them with a horse rather than driving over the wheat.
Farmmom saw em on her way by so she started easing them towards our place as I was getting the ponies in the corrall... I'd discovered that the entire south side of the fence was down, so at least I had somewhere to take them in. Luckily, our ponies like people and figure that they usually get treats when they follow the pickup, so I just had to drive into the corrall and shut the gate.
Of course, when Monkey and Sis (SB's mare) saw that we were pushing calves around without them, they got cranky. That's their job... The other horses were milling around, wanting the out gate cause they like their pasture... Monkey and Sis were cutting a calf off together and taking it hither and yon in the big pen. They work well together...
So we got the calves all in, got the fence fixed, water re-arranged so that we could leave the cattle in the big pen and water the horses in one of the smaller ones, the tank heater replaced and the float cleaned on the tank in the big pen, and the other cows checked.
By then, it was dark.
To top the whole day off, on the way back into town, a german sheperd ran out about five feet in front of the pickup, stopped and looked at me. On the highway. No more doggie. No more right turn signal on Mamaw's pickup. Lovely recurring flash of the thump doggie made when the pickup hit him.
When I went to the house he belonged to, they basically said "It's ok, he's dumb, he's from Texas."
Ate dinner, and got a txt from SB so I went over to his house to lend an ear for a few hours. Came back to Mamaw's and went to bed.
And that's just since Friday!
Still have present wrapping to do, and packing. I'm moving back to the Old Homestead, since I'm planning on doing my internship down here, and there's no point in driving that much, or paying rent when I'm not there. So, much to do yet, including planning New Years, cause old friends will hopefully be in town.
I do know that I got a kickass pair of shoes for Christmas (since I picked them out) so I'll have great attitude shoes to wear for New Years. Yes, I do wear something other than boots, it just doesn't happen very often....
So, lets take this week... Friday, I took my last final, found out what I'd gotten on my other final (passed the class, with a B, this makes me happy) picked up a suitcase, the Dawgs (oh, yeah, I got a new pup... a six month old male miniature schnauser... he's thick as a post but cute as a button) and hit Safeway because they had Pepsi products buy two get three free. Picked up ten twelve-packs of Mountain Dew for Mamaw, stuffed them in the trunk, and headed for the Old Homestead.
Got here in time to watch round nine of the NFR on the big screen, with Mamaw, Bill, and SB (who wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to watch bull riding on a fifty inch hi def) with much hooting and hollering by myself and SB.
Saturday I replaced/repaired the plastic on Mamaw's windows, which turned into an all day ordeal, since nothing wanted to go right. Saturday night we watched round ten of the NFR, which SB missed because his ex gf showed up begging him to take her back and he couldn't get loose.
Sunday, it was cold and nasty out so I decided to stay over one more day and go back to my house Monday. So, I puttered around the house for Mamaw and got some stuff done here. Monday, I puttered some more, and we decided to go Christmas Shopping Tuesday, so I figured there was no point in hauling the dogs home just to leave them shut up in the house all day, when I could stay one more night and they could play in a big yard all day instead. That night, SB and I went out to drive around and look at the Christmas Lights and talk.
(I swear, I need to carry a 2X4 around with "I'm not ugly" on one side and "I'm a good person who deserves to be happy" on the other. That boy has no self esteem, and maybe if I beat him over the head with it enough he'd get the picture.)
Tuesday. Yikes. We got all the shopping done (I swear every year that I'm going to start my shopping in June, and I never do....) but it was still a long day. I can't even brag about the perfect gifts I got people, cause they all read my blog!
So, Wednesday. I was going to go home Wednesday, but about twenty minutes before I was going to get my stuff together and get on the road, I got a phone call from one of the neighbors out in the country... the cows were out. So were the horses.
I spent all afternoon yesterday pushing cows around and making my horse, and SB's horse, mad. Farmmom got there to check the cows in good time to push some that I'd cut off on my way in... they were headed for Kansas, so I got them pushed onto the neighbor's wheat, figured they'd stay for a while, and went to get the horses since I didn't know where they were. I was planning on calling Mamaw and having her bring my tack out so I could get them with a horse rather than driving over the wheat.
Farmmom saw em on her way by so she started easing them towards our place as I was getting the ponies in the corrall... I'd discovered that the entire south side of the fence was down, so at least I had somewhere to take them in. Luckily, our ponies like people and figure that they usually get treats when they follow the pickup, so I just had to drive into the corrall and shut the gate.
Of course, when Monkey and Sis (SB's mare) saw that we were pushing calves around without them, they got cranky. That's their job... The other horses were milling around, wanting the out gate cause they like their pasture... Monkey and Sis were cutting a calf off together and taking it hither and yon in the big pen. They work well together...
So we got the calves all in, got the fence fixed, water re-arranged so that we could leave the cattle in the big pen and water the horses in one of the smaller ones, the tank heater replaced and the float cleaned on the tank in the big pen, and the other cows checked.
By then, it was dark.
To top the whole day off, on the way back into town, a german sheperd ran out about five feet in front of the pickup, stopped and looked at me. On the highway. No more doggie. No more right turn signal on Mamaw's pickup. Lovely recurring flash of the thump doggie made when the pickup hit him.
When I went to the house he belonged to, they basically said "It's ok, he's dumb, he's from Texas."
Ate dinner, and got a txt from SB so I went over to his house to lend an ear for a few hours. Came back to Mamaw's and went to bed.
And that's just since Friday!
Still have present wrapping to do, and packing. I'm moving back to the Old Homestead, since I'm planning on doing my internship down here, and there's no point in driving that much, or paying rent when I'm not there. So, much to do yet, including planning New Years, cause old friends will hopefully be in town.
I do know that I got a kickass pair of shoes for Christmas (since I picked them out) so I'll have great attitude shoes to wear for New Years. Yes, I do wear something other than boots, it just doesn't happen very often....
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Well, Then.
I know I haven't been posting a lot, and that most of my posts haven't been up to my usual (admittedly meager) standards. I sincerely apologize to everyone who reads this blog regularly. I know ya'll understand that things have been happening on the other side of the computer screen, and I appreciate your support and patience, believe me.
You know the bare bones of what's been happening, but that doesn't really explain why things have been so... blah... around here. It wasn't until I realized that I was embarrassed about parts of it, when I have no reason to be, that I decided to go ahead and flesh the story out a bit. Not only to explain the flat writing, but perhaps to help myself move past certain aspects, as well.
See, my boyfriend, the man I loved, dumped me. Broke up. Left me. Tossed my happy ass to the curb.
Believe me, I've had plenty of time to think of all of the euphemisms.
Bottom line, I was crushed. Still am pretty crumpled. And, of course, this happened right in the middle of the whole "Surprise! Grandpa's Dying!" adjustment period.
Oh, didn't I mention that? Yeah, he came over to my house the night that we brought Grandpa home (his home) to hospice care, after listening to me fret, worry, stress, and generally lose my damn mind over the whole thing for a week, and dumped me.
If I could hate him for anything, it would be that.
But, that's one of the worst parts about this break up. Not only is it the first time I've been dumped (really, am I that fabulous that I'm always the one to call it off? Nah, I think I just get annoyed/bored easily...) but it came out of the blue, as far as I was concerned.
I thought things were ok. I knew there was a bit of strain on the relationship... neither one of us had a lot of free time, and I'd spent a week hitting what classes I felt I couldn't miss and skipping out on the rest to drive an hour to the hospital to be with Grandpa, handle family members, and generally provide the small amount of comic relief I could manage. But, he hadn't said anything. He hadn't complained, hadn't said I was spending too much time away (which probably would have started a fight at that point).... nothing.
Until that night. I'd just left Grandpa's, seeing him safely settled back in his home, and texted him, asking if he had plans or if I could come over. I missed him, I said.
It had really hit me that night, seeing Grandpa laying in a hospital bed in his own home. He was leaving us, and the only thing I could do for him was be there, help out what I could, and most importantly, not mourn him yet. At least not in front of him. I really needed a little emotional support. A little time with the good things in my life, to remind me that it wasn't all death.
So, when he said he'd come over to my house, I snuggled deeper into his coat (which I'd been wearing all week, yes I'm one of those weirdos) and felt better immediately.
That is, until he walked in. He was serious, too grim. I went to the door and wrapped my arms around him and he hugged me, and I felt a little better. Until he told me I needed to sit down.
(Do you see the rollercoaster here? Cause it was one hell of a ride, at the time.)
He started talking. He said the kids felt like they weren't getting enough time with him, that we had a lot in common, but there was a lot we didn't. He said other things, but I didn't hear them. I was hearing the one thing in the world that he wasn't saying, the one thing in the world that could break me right then.
I stopped him, and asked a question. I asked him, flat out, if he was breaking up with me. He at least had the integrity and the balls to finally flat out say yes.
I think it took a moment for it to hit me. When it did, all I could think to say was "I'm not going to beg." I don't know why I said it, other than the fact that I really, really wanted to. I wanted to cry, scream, crawl on my knees and beg him to take it back.
Instead, I got up, walked outside to my car, grabbed his coat, and turned around. I hadn't heard him follow me, so when I realized he was there I nearly punched him in the face with his own jacket trying to give it to him.
"Just so you know, this is the only thing that has gotten me through this last week. This and knowing I had you."
He left, after that. I went inside, shut the door, and collapsed. I literally fell to the floor. Once my knees broke, so did my control. I cried, screamed, sobbed, and generally scared the shit out of my dog for a good forty five minutes before I was coherent enough to call Farmmom. And that, folks, considering the kind of relationship Farmmom and I have, wasn't that coherent. I remember having to repeat myself at least three times, because she couldn't understand me.
And, I don't know if it's a character flaw, or a virtue, but the instant the phone started ringing I regretted calling. Not because I didn't want to talk to her, but because she was staying with Grandpa. I didn't want to add to her stress. But, I knew that once the phone started ringing, if I hung up, she'd call back.
Practicality kicked in when I realized that I couldn't make myself sound calm enough between hanging up the phone and her calling back to play it off as meaning to call someone else. Otherwise, I would have.
She was shocked, concerned, and finally pissed. She wanted to kill him, on my behalf. I just wanted him to come back and say it was all a bad joke.
That night, all of the stress, all of the anticipated pain from Grandpa's situation, all of the emotions of the break up... I couldn't control any of it. I couldn't get ahold of myself. I don't cry like that. Ten minutes of vigorous sobbing, sure. I think every woman, and some men, know the value of a good cry. I'm just more "male" than most girls, in that I never, ever cry in front of people.
That night, I couldn't stop. I vascilated between sobbing, and sitting there staring at the walls, not even realizing I was still crying until I tasted the tears. I lost time. One moment I'd be sitting in my recliner, and the next I'd be on the floor in a little ball, with no idea how I got there. I cried until I was sick.
That Friday, I texted him that I had the things he'd left at my house together, and I'd like to do the dreaded shit-swap as soon as possible. I was hoping to do it Saturday, since Sunday was my day to sit with Grandpa.
Of course, that couldn't happen. It had to happen Sunday morning. And, it had to happen at his house. I dreaded it even more.
See, he hadn't just taken himself away from me. He took the kids, too.
When I knocked on his door I could hear them playing. When he opened it, Youngest Child came running to give me a hug, yelling my name, and then towed me by the hand to his bedroom to show me his new toys.
The hardest thing I have ever done in my life was telling that beautiful child that I had to leave.
The ex's only comment inside the house was "I thought you'd call, I've got your stuff in my car."
He followed me outside, I got my stuff, and started to get in my car. I couldn't look at him, I was afraid I'd break if I did, so when I realized he was still standing there, I stopped, stared hard at a spot on the pavement, and asked, "Was there something else you wanted to say?"
"No..." he said, and I managed to look at him long enough to realize that he was staring at the trunk of the car next to mine, just standing there. "No."
So I got in my car, and I left. I made it to the corner before I started crying. I'm not sure how I made it home without getting into an accident. When I got there, I walked into the house, flopped down on the couch, and stayed there until my wonderful dog came to check on me.
See, Noel knows my moods, just like any dog. She is, however, the most responsive dog I've ever met. When she came to check on me, I wasn't even crying, I was just laying there. She jumped up and curled up against the back of my legs, trying to comfort me. The next thing I knew, she was laying on top of me, shaking. That broke me out of it enough to get a handle on myself before I had to be at Grandpa's to relieve The Aunt.
I didn't tell Grandpa. I didn't know how, for one thing. He was so happy for me when he saw how happy I was just talking about CM, and he'd met Eldest Daughter and fallen instantly in love with her, just like everyone else.
I couldn't bear to have him worrying about me at that point. He was dying, fast. If he didn't need to see me sad over that, he really didn't need to worry that the man who had made me so happy had broken my heart.
I felt guilty about it at the time, and I feel guilty about it now. But I wouldn't change my decision. The last time I talked to Grandpa I left him with a smile, in spite of having to feed him pill after pill, just to keep him comfortable, in spite of everything that was going on. The last time he saw me, I made him laugh.
I'll keep the guilt.
When Grandpa died, the seat beside me at the funeral wasn't filled by the man who had said he loved me. It was filled with my best friend and confidant since second grade, who stepped up during that horrible time and kept me from going completely ballistic. Literally. She actually held me down in the pew at the funeral, to keep me from climbing two rows up and beating the hell out of relatives.
Thanksgiving sucked. I managed to keep it at bay until we sat down to eat, but it was the wrong table. We were going to have Thanksgiving dinner at Grandpa's this year, and CM was going to come to finally meet Grandpa.
This whole thing would be a lot easier if I could bring myself to hate the ex. Or, if I knew what actually went wrong. All the stuff he said that night still adds up to "I just don't love you anymore" inside my head.
Thanks to some good friends who are, amazingly, endlessly willing to listen to me whine, and great friends who not only listen to me whine, but are determined not to let me wallow too much, I'm still kicking. It still sucker punches me, don't get me wrong. I still tense every time I see a red car, and if I'm sleeping and my cell phone beeps with a text message, my heart beats faster.
But, I'm getting better every day. I miss Grandpa. I miss the ex. I miss the good mood I used to have, just from thinking about him, and the dumbass grin that crossed my face every time I saw him.
But I know, in my own mind, and in my heart, that the only male I need in my life has four legs and wears a saddle.
Everything else is just details.
You know the bare bones of what's been happening, but that doesn't really explain why things have been so... blah... around here. It wasn't until I realized that I was embarrassed about parts of it, when I have no reason to be, that I decided to go ahead and flesh the story out a bit. Not only to explain the flat writing, but perhaps to help myself move past certain aspects, as well.
See, my boyfriend, the man I loved, dumped me. Broke up. Left me. Tossed my happy ass to the curb.
Believe me, I've had plenty of time to think of all of the euphemisms.
Bottom line, I was crushed. Still am pretty crumpled. And, of course, this happened right in the middle of the whole "Surprise! Grandpa's Dying!" adjustment period.
Oh, didn't I mention that? Yeah, he came over to my house the night that we brought Grandpa home (his home) to hospice care, after listening to me fret, worry, stress, and generally lose my damn mind over the whole thing for a week, and dumped me.
If I could hate him for anything, it would be that.
But, that's one of the worst parts about this break up. Not only is it the first time I've been dumped (really, am I that fabulous that I'm always the one to call it off? Nah, I think I just get annoyed/bored easily...) but it came out of the blue, as far as I was concerned.
I thought things were ok. I knew there was a bit of strain on the relationship... neither one of us had a lot of free time, and I'd spent a week hitting what classes I felt I couldn't miss and skipping out on the rest to drive an hour to the hospital to be with Grandpa, handle family members, and generally provide the small amount of comic relief I could manage. But, he hadn't said anything. He hadn't complained, hadn't said I was spending too much time away (which probably would have started a fight at that point).... nothing.
Until that night. I'd just left Grandpa's, seeing him safely settled back in his home, and texted him, asking if he had plans or if I could come over. I missed him, I said.
It had really hit me that night, seeing Grandpa laying in a hospital bed in his own home. He was leaving us, and the only thing I could do for him was be there, help out what I could, and most importantly, not mourn him yet. At least not in front of him. I really needed a little emotional support. A little time with the good things in my life, to remind me that it wasn't all death.
So, when he said he'd come over to my house, I snuggled deeper into his coat (which I'd been wearing all week, yes I'm one of those weirdos) and felt better immediately.
That is, until he walked in. He was serious, too grim. I went to the door and wrapped my arms around him and he hugged me, and I felt a little better. Until he told me I needed to sit down.
(Do you see the rollercoaster here? Cause it was one hell of a ride, at the time.)
He started talking. He said the kids felt like they weren't getting enough time with him, that we had a lot in common, but there was a lot we didn't. He said other things, but I didn't hear them. I was hearing the one thing in the world that he wasn't saying, the one thing in the world that could break me right then.
I stopped him, and asked a question. I asked him, flat out, if he was breaking up with me. He at least had the integrity and the balls to finally flat out say yes.
I think it took a moment for it to hit me. When it did, all I could think to say was "I'm not going to beg." I don't know why I said it, other than the fact that I really, really wanted to. I wanted to cry, scream, crawl on my knees and beg him to take it back.
Instead, I got up, walked outside to my car, grabbed his coat, and turned around. I hadn't heard him follow me, so when I realized he was there I nearly punched him in the face with his own jacket trying to give it to him.
"Just so you know, this is the only thing that has gotten me through this last week. This and knowing I had you."
He left, after that. I went inside, shut the door, and collapsed. I literally fell to the floor. Once my knees broke, so did my control. I cried, screamed, sobbed, and generally scared the shit out of my dog for a good forty five minutes before I was coherent enough to call Farmmom. And that, folks, considering the kind of relationship Farmmom and I have, wasn't that coherent. I remember having to repeat myself at least three times, because she couldn't understand me.
And, I don't know if it's a character flaw, or a virtue, but the instant the phone started ringing I regretted calling. Not because I didn't want to talk to her, but because she was staying with Grandpa. I didn't want to add to her stress. But, I knew that once the phone started ringing, if I hung up, she'd call back.
Practicality kicked in when I realized that I couldn't make myself sound calm enough between hanging up the phone and her calling back to play it off as meaning to call someone else. Otherwise, I would have.
She was shocked, concerned, and finally pissed. She wanted to kill him, on my behalf. I just wanted him to come back and say it was all a bad joke.
That night, all of the stress, all of the anticipated pain from Grandpa's situation, all of the emotions of the break up... I couldn't control any of it. I couldn't get ahold of myself. I don't cry like that. Ten minutes of vigorous sobbing, sure. I think every woman, and some men, know the value of a good cry. I'm just more "male" than most girls, in that I never, ever cry in front of people.
That night, I couldn't stop. I vascilated between sobbing, and sitting there staring at the walls, not even realizing I was still crying until I tasted the tears. I lost time. One moment I'd be sitting in my recliner, and the next I'd be on the floor in a little ball, with no idea how I got there. I cried until I was sick.
That Friday, I texted him that I had the things he'd left at my house together, and I'd like to do the dreaded shit-swap as soon as possible. I was hoping to do it Saturday, since Sunday was my day to sit with Grandpa.
Of course, that couldn't happen. It had to happen Sunday morning. And, it had to happen at his house. I dreaded it even more.
See, he hadn't just taken himself away from me. He took the kids, too.
When I knocked on his door I could hear them playing. When he opened it, Youngest Child came running to give me a hug, yelling my name, and then towed me by the hand to his bedroom to show me his new toys.
The hardest thing I have ever done in my life was telling that beautiful child that I had to leave.
The ex's only comment inside the house was "I thought you'd call, I've got your stuff in my car."
He followed me outside, I got my stuff, and started to get in my car. I couldn't look at him, I was afraid I'd break if I did, so when I realized he was still standing there, I stopped, stared hard at a spot on the pavement, and asked, "Was there something else you wanted to say?"
"No..." he said, and I managed to look at him long enough to realize that he was staring at the trunk of the car next to mine, just standing there. "No."
So I got in my car, and I left. I made it to the corner before I started crying. I'm not sure how I made it home without getting into an accident. When I got there, I walked into the house, flopped down on the couch, and stayed there until my wonderful dog came to check on me.
See, Noel knows my moods, just like any dog. She is, however, the most responsive dog I've ever met. When she came to check on me, I wasn't even crying, I was just laying there. She jumped up and curled up against the back of my legs, trying to comfort me. The next thing I knew, she was laying on top of me, shaking. That broke me out of it enough to get a handle on myself before I had to be at Grandpa's to relieve The Aunt.
I didn't tell Grandpa. I didn't know how, for one thing. He was so happy for me when he saw how happy I was just talking about CM, and he'd met Eldest Daughter and fallen instantly in love with her, just like everyone else.
I couldn't bear to have him worrying about me at that point. He was dying, fast. If he didn't need to see me sad over that, he really didn't need to worry that the man who had made me so happy had broken my heart.
I felt guilty about it at the time, and I feel guilty about it now. But I wouldn't change my decision. The last time I talked to Grandpa I left him with a smile, in spite of having to feed him pill after pill, just to keep him comfortable, in spite of everything that was going on. The last time he saw me, I made him laugh.
I'll keep the guilt.
When Grandpa died, the seat beside me at the funeral wasn't filled by the man who had said he loved me. It was filled with my best friend and confidant since second grade, who stepped up during that horrible time and kept me from going completely ballistic. Literally. She actually held me down in the pew at the funeral, to keep me from climbing two rows up and beating the hell out of relatives.
Thanksgiving sucked. I managed to keep it at bay until we sat down to eat, but it was the wrong table. We were going to have Thanksgiving dinner at Grandpa's this year, and CM was going to come to finally meet Grandpa.
This whole thing would be a lot easier if I could bring myself to hate the ex. Or, if I knew what actually went wrong. All the stuff he said that night still adds up to "I just don't love you anymore" inside my head.
Thanks to some good friends who are, amazingly, endlessly willing to listen to me whine, and great friends who not only listen to me whine, but are determined not to let me wallow too much, I'm still kicking. It still sucker punches me, don't get me wrong. I still tense every time I see a red car, and if I'm sleeping and my cell phone beeps with a text message, my heart beats faster.
But, I'm getting better every day. I miss Grandpa. I miss the ex. I miss the good mood I used to have, just from thinking about him, and the dumbass grin that crossed my face every time I saw him.
But I know, in my own mind, and in my heart, that the only male I need in my life has four legs and wears a saddle.
Everything else is just details.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Stolen Memery
I stole this from Holly, because it looked like fun. Ya'll enjoy finding out a little more about me.
1. Started your own blog.
2. Slept under the stars.
3. Played in a band. (Does jamming with them when you're 12 count?)
4. Visited Hawaii.
5. Watched a meteor shower.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity.
7. Been to Disneyland.
8. Climbed a mountain.
9. Held a praying mantis.
10. Sang a solo.
11. Bungee jumped.
12. Visited Paris.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. (Writing? I'm not counting this one...)
15. Adopted a child.
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
18. Grown your own vegetables.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France.
20. Slept on an overnight train.
21. Had a pillow fight. (And an ice fight, and popcorn fights, and and and...)
22. Hitch hiked.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.
24. Built a snow fort.
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon.
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice. (Does the Venetian in Vegas Count?)
29. Seen a total eclipse.
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors. (Locally, yes. Globally, No.)
35. Seen an Amish community.
36. Taught yourself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo's David. (Not in person, but in lots and lots of pictures)
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.
46. Been transported in an ambulance.
47. Had your portrait painted (drawn.)
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling.
52. Kissed in the rain.
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theater.
55. Been in a movie. (Hi-Lo Country. I was roped by Billy Crudup on set.. I tell ya'll that one later)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class.
59. Visited Russia.
60. Served at a soup kitchen.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies.
62. Gone whale watching.
63. Got flowers for no reason.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma. (They won't let me, I too skinny.)
65. Gone sky diving.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp.
67. Bounced a check.
68. Flown in a helicopter.
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.
71. Eaten Caviar. (The only eggs I want come from a chicken butt, as my brother put it when he discovered that fact. He was quite disturbed... course, he was two, so yeah...)
72. Pieced a quilt.
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglades.
75. Been fired from a job.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London.
77. Broken a bone.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person.
80. Published a book. (I'm workin on it, I'm workin on it!)
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem.
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.(A few times, actually.)
85. Read the entire Bible.
86. Visited the White House.
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury. (They keep sending me jury duty, and then canceling the trial.)
91. Met someone famous. (Sam Elliot, Billy Crudup, Patricia Arquette, and Woody Harrelson were all on that set I mentioned earlier.)
92. Joined a book club.
93. Lost a loved one.
94. Had a baby. (Not yet, thank god.)
95. Seen the Alamo in person.
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake.
97. Been involved in a law suit.
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee.
100. Read an entire book in one day. (Many, many books have been read in one day at my house....)
1. Started your own blog.
2. Slept under the stars.
3. Played in a band. (Does jamming with them when you're 12 count?)
4. Visited Hawaii.
5. Watched a meteor shower.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity.
7. Been to Disneyland.
8. Climbed a mountain.
9. Held a praying mantis.
10. Sang a solo.
11. Bungee jumped.
12. Visited Paris.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. (Writing? I'm not counting this one...)
15. Adopted a child.
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
18. Grown your own vegetables.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France.
20. Slept on an overnight train.
21. Had a pillow fight. (And an ice fight, and popcorn fights, and and and...)
22. Hitch hiked.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.
24. Built a snow fort.
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon.
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice. (Does the Venetian in Vegas Count?)
29. Seen a total eclipse.
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors. (Locally, yes. Globally, No.)
35. Seen an Amish community.
36. Taught yourself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo's David. (Not in person, but in lots and lots of pictures)
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.
46. Been transported in an ambulance.
47. Had your portrait painted (drawn.)
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling.
52. Kissed in the rain.
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theater.
55. Been in a movie. (Hi-Lo Country. I was roped by Billy Crudup on set.. I tell ya'll that one later)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class.
59. Visited Russia.
60. Served at a soup kitchen.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies.
62. Gone whale watching.
63. Got flowers for no reason.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma. (They won't let me, I too skinny.)
65. Gone sky diving.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp.
67. Bounced a check.
68. Flown in a helicopter.
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.
71. Eaten Caviar. (The only eggs I want come from a chicken butt, as my brother put it when he discovered that fact. He was quite disturbed... course, he was two, so yeah...)
72. Pieced a quilt.
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglades.
75. Been fired from a job.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London.
77. Broken a bone.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person.
80. Published a book. (I'm workin on it, I'm workin on it!)
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem.
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.(A few times, actually.)
85. Read the entire Bible.
86. Visited the White House.
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury. (They keep sending me jury duty, and then canceling the trial.)
91. Met someone famous. (Sam Elliot, Billy Crudup, Patricia Arquette, and Woody Harrelson were all on that set I mentioned earlier.)
92. Joined a book club.
93. Lost a loved one.
94. Had a baby. (Not yet, thank god.)
95. Seen the Alamo in person.
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake.
97. Been involved in a law suit.
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee.
100. Read an entire book in one day. (Many, many books have been read in one day at my house....)
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