THE POLLS ARE CLOSED, let the waiting begin.

The voting is over, the polls are closed and now the waiting begins.  To all those who voted for the Dust Bunny Club as the Best Family Journal, thanks a million... (but you may want to seek family counseling as soon as possible!).  For those who didn't... may a million dust bunnies visit your house during breeding season! 

Its been an honor to be on the ballot with so many other wonderful and talented journalers.  Thank you all for this unique opportunity.

Watch here for the results: VIVI Awards

And thanks Brandy0509 for the neat-o-wow 'I Voted' blinkie!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I masqueraded as the Great Pumpkin all weekend.  If I never see blaze orange again I will be soooo happy!  I'm getting too old for this.  I'm a 45 year old, short, fat, two-legged woman.  What the heck am I doing chasing young, strong, four-legged creatures around on the mountains?  I've been stuck by so many cacti that I'm amazed I don't leak.  And for what, for a healthier alternative to hotdogs?  I'm telling you folks, with each passing year Oscar Meyer tastes a little better to me.

Today is my first day back to work.  This should be fun!  My body feels like it fell down a mountain.  Thats probably because it did!  And I still have to eat hotdogs for dinner tonight!  But tonight is Halloween!  I've got my apple cider all ready.  I'm so excited.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

WHERE IS DICKIDOO GOING?

When ever I take the kids out, even now when they are older, I always make sure they use the bathroom before we leave the house.  I guess I need to start reminding my husband as well, because it never fails, and I kid you not... each and every time we go out to the wood, the first thing he does is duck into the bushes with his Charmin.  Personally I have never needed to go so bad that I couldn't pinch it back and hold it in til we get back home because there's no way I'm baring my bottom out there like that with bears and snakes running around!

JOHN HACK A LOOGY, and other nick names.

Can you imagine going through your life with the nickname of 'John Hack A Loogy'?  The kids were talking this morning about bullies and Rocky brought up one incident involving a boy named 'John' who had been bullied by another bigger student who had spit on his face.  When Becca couldn't recall the boy, Rocky added 'You remember John Hack A Loogy!', and yes, Becca did!  That poor child will probably always be haunted by the memory of the day some bully spit on him, and the nickname that will now follow him the rest of his life.

I had several nick names.  My baban (grandmother) called me 'Number One Fat Girl'.  I was okay with it because she was the only one who called me that.  My dad called me 'Patricia Pachyderm' which I loved until I discovered that a pachyderm was an elephant.  (ha ha, funny funny dad!)  He later dubbed me 'Buttinski', which was probably totally warranted.  But I was just as bad giving nicknames.  I gave my cousin the name 'Kukae', which sounds beautiful but in Hawaiian it means 'poop'.  It took her a year to figure that one out.  That was about 25 years ago.  I still call her Kukae to this day.

My own kids have cute names like 'Sugar Booger' and 'Binkie Boo'.  Endearing names for a child... but I still use them now that they're all grown up.  My all time favorite is, of course and by far, without a doubt, the nickname I use for my beloved husband.  That one started right here in this journal but it got loose in the real world.  Theres nothing funnier than to see a big bad hunter walk into a room full of other big bad hunters, and then for someone in the crowd to yell out 'Hey Dickidoo!'  Hahahaha!  Gotta love it!

WHEN I WORE A YOUNGER GIRL'S CLOTHES

       

I flipped through a diary I had kept when I was 21 years old and felt like I was reading about a stranger.  This woman-child saw the world through the innocent naivity of youth.  Her goals were simple, her dreams far fetched, her problems shallow.  It was interesting though to note the comparisons... the differences, the obvious growth, similarities, and sometimes even the regression.

At 21 I didn't want to ever get married. Committing myself to someone else for a lifetime seemed scary and totally unnecessary.  Children were out of the question.  IF I were to have children, they would be adopted.  Newborn babies were ugly.

At 45 I have now been married for almost 22 years.  I am the mother of 5 children, all my own.  Just as well because truth be known, I doubt the State would trust me to raise someone else's child.  Newborn babies are still ugly... until they get all that goo wiped off of them.  Then they become the most beautiful and precious things I have ever seen.

When I was 21, I protested against any kind of animal cruelty.  My uncles hunted.  I hated that.  They convinced me to try some deer meat.  I hated it.  That made hunting even more of a crime... to kill for meat that in my opinion wasn't even edible.

At 45 I am an active hunter.  I still hate certain aspects of hunting, like the taking of a life and field dressing (all that icky guts and stuff), but it puts food on the table for my children and that makes it worth it.  I love deer and elk meat.  My uncles would have been proud of me.  I wish I could have cooked up some elk for them, they would have loved it.  (RIP Uncles Take, Hiro, Jun and Kiyo.)

At 21 I considered it embarassing to discharge gas in public.  My mother was very discret, I believe I really thought she couldn't fart.  I myself would run to the bathroom to avoid public humiliation.  Burps were always hidden behind a palm.

At 45 I let them all rip!  My kids blame each other for my indiscressions because everyone knows that Mommies don't fart!  Burps are measured by how far one gets in the alphabet. 'L' is the farthest I've ever gotten.  That won me the high praise of 'Good one Mom!'.

If I could go back in time and speak to the Me of Yesterday, what would I tell her?  Probably nothing.  I would probably just smile and let her be.  The journey to becoming the person I am today has been rich with experiences, good and bad, that have strengthened me and eventually led me to where I am now.  I would not alter one step for fear of changing the course.

And that innocently naive girl I saw in the pages of my old diary?  She's still there within the depths of me.  She peeks out once in a while, like when I held my child for the first time,  when I saw a bald eagle circling above me, when my son called me his best friend, when my husband took a dream of mine and gave it physical form, when I hear the mystical bugle of the elk at twilight.  She watches the shooting stars with me and welcomes the moon each night.  She marvels at the sunrise each morning, even when the 45 year old me is still asleep.  She urges me to drive through puddles,  kick up leaves and to walk barefoot in the snow.  She gives me patience when the 45 year old mother becomes harsh too with the children.  "Remember, you were young once too," she whispers.  The children, obviously, love her, this Me of Yesterday.

So to the one I once was, I thank you for all you were, for helping me to reach where I am now, and for keeping me on the path of discovery.  Its been fun, lets do it again!  But maybe next time... how about eatting a little less because that old saying, 'you are what you eat' holds true and dang girl, what the heck were you thinking!  Cut back on the fried cholesteral sister!  Could you do that for me, huh?  Maybe just a little?  If you don't, I'll warn you right now, you'll be packing 35 more pounds by the time you're my age and believe me, it ain't gonna be pretty!

STUBBORN LIKE THAT

Dickidoo was mad at me last night.  Of course I was too dense to realize it.  When he called me to have me call the barbershop to find out what time they closed, I thought my 'I'm pretty sure it closes at 9' was good enough.  Besides, he had to go right by it to get the freezer tape I needed so why waste the energy making an unnecessary call, right?

Well, I called anyway, and then called him back to assure him that I had been correct.  I should have detected the heavy sarcasm in his voice then, but at that point I still didn't see what the big deal was, so it just sailed on right over my head.

This morning he stood by the table and asked me if my ears had been burning last night.  Naturally I denied it.  You pretty much have to be screaming in my face with spit flying and your veins near to bursting in your temple for me to get a clue that there might be a slight problem.  And then I remembered the phonecall.  About that?  I asked him and he nodded, adding that he had been very angry at my reluctance to make the phone call for him.  Angry?  Why?  He knew the number to my old work place, he used to call me there all the time.  I've only been gone 6 months.   I said it was 9, and it WAS!

Besides, I told him, if I had felt my ears burning, I never would have made the phone call.  I'm stubborn like that.

Hmmmmm.... that may have been the wrong answer considering the circumstances.

Why get mad over the simple things in life, like money and trust.  Save it for the big important things, like phone calls to the barber shop.

Well, Rocky is mad at me too.  She's mad because I made her do her homework before going to her friend's house to play.  Unfortunately by the time she finished her homework, her friend could no longer play.  My failure to coordinate our family homework time to coincide with her friend's gymnastics schedule was the root of this issue.  Tonight, in order to avoid another upsetting and unfortunate episode experienced yesterday I shall be calling all of the parents in the neighborhood to coordinate all of our schedules so that the children will be able to play together at the same time and there will be peace and harmony in the cul de sac.

NOT!

I'm stubborn like that! 

A PHONE CALL, AN EMAIL AND AN IM (edited)

A 'WOO HOO' KIND OF DAY!

I finally got my call-back for the job.  I was beginning to worry that I had flunked the pee test, due to unusually and unnaturally high levels of 87 ethyl octane.  So anyhow, tomorrow I go in and.... sit at a computer all day!  Hahahaha!

I'm just glad I didn't burn my bridges when I quit there.  I honestly had no intention of ever going back to work there again, but the reality is... I cannot survive on bad beer, generic coffee and last year's toe socks!  Dickidoo can't afford to keep me, so I must keep myself.

Management accepted my schedule.  I wasn't sure they would.  9-6 Monday thru Friday is asking a lot, but I've given them my entire weekend so they took me back.  Thats good, but man, its going to suck having to work every single weekend!  And I will probably have to work on Super Bowl Sunday.... Nooooo!

edit: Just to clarify, no, I'm not working 7 days a week.  However, as a retail employee I have to be available to work any day of the week.  Normally the store I work at requires all new hires to have a completely open availability.  I negotiated.  I gave them my weekends, pretty much any time... with the stipulation that on any week day that I am scheduled to work, I will not work any later than 6pm.  Chances are I will be scheduled to work every single weekend, probably in the evening, and then 3 weekdays, with two back-to-back days off.  It sucks royal but hey, I gotta have my toe socks and Budweiser really sucks!

I got an email from Gabe this morning, and then later he came online so I was able to talk to him via IM.  That was really nice.  I'd been worrying because it has been a few days since I last heard from him. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NativeHopi [10:04 AM]:  hey mom
Dornbrau [10:04 AM]:  Hey Gabe!
Dornbrau [10:04 AM]:  I got your email.  It was great hearing fromyou.
Dornbrau [10:04 AM]:  I was afraid you had already moved out.
NativeHopi [10:04 AM]:  yeah we were out getting our truck
NativeHopi [10:05 AM]:  s
Dornbrau [10:05 AM]:  Must be nice to have your baby back huh?
NativeHopi [10:05 AM]:  oh yeah
NativeHopi [10:06 AM]:  and my brad
Dornbrau [10:06 AM]: I'vedecided I want you in a bradley, more metal under your butt.
NativeHopi [10:07 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [10:07 AM]:  and thier fun to drive to
Dornbrau [10:07 AM]:  Safe and fun, sounds like a good combination.
NativeHopi [10:08 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [10:08 AM]:  yeah it does
Dornbrau [10:08 AM]:  I might take my flintlock out this afternoon... MIGHT!  Its fricken cold, my snot is starting to freeze again.  You know me, I only like cold when I'm inside looking OUT at it.
NativeHopi [10:09 AM]:  yeah its getting cold fast out here
NativeHopi [10:09 AM]:  its nice
Dornbrau [10:10 AM]:  Rocky read your email this morning.  You made her day.  She was so happy when she left for school.  First chance she gets I guarantee she will be running around the neighborhood with that poster to get autographs.
Dornbrau [10:10 AM]:  Well I hope it doesn't get too cold.  Extreme hot and cold all within the same day isn't good for the body.
NativeHopi [10:12 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [10:12 AM]:  well you know me
Dornbrau [10:12 AM]:  Dude, you're still coughing from that bug you got when you went to Boot Camp a year ago!
NativeHopi [10:13 AM]:  lol
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

ELECTION 2005

   

Okay folks, the voting has begun.  Click here to get to the ViVi Journal Awards Ballot.  Now I don't want to sway or influence your vote in any way , but if you are undecided about which journal to vote for the Best Family Journal, you may want to consider Dust Bunny Club.  And I just happen to know of a pretty cool blog called Through the Eyes of the Beholder that just happens to be running for Best Photography Journal.

Oh, and when you get there, don't forget to fill in your name and screen name cos if you don't (like some doofus that I know who collects dust bunnies but shall remain nameless) your ballot will be null and void, and you will have to do it all over again!

So.... get on over there and vote, and may the best Dust Bunny.... oops, I mean, may the best Blog win!

STUDYING FOR THE PEE TEST

URINALYSIS 101

With 5 kids, and several job interviews under my belt, I've had lots of experience with urinalysis tests.  You have to submit a certain level.  Not too little, not too much.  Too pale, they frown.  Too dark, they glare!  There is an art to it.  Drink lots of fluids.  There's nothing worse than not being able to 'void' once you get there, and if you don't reach the minimum fill line, guess what, you'll have to do it again.  And I don't mean to just keep going until you do reach the level.  I mean starting all over with an empty cup!  Dude, if I didn't have enough before, it ain't happening later.  Trust me, I ain't hoarding the stuff.  Just take the darn sample and be happy!

Okay, coffee is an easy prep but I personally don't recommend it for a couple of reasons.  First of all, chances are when you get there, you will have to wait (unless of course your bladder is empty, at which time they will almost always call you right away!).  After waiting for a while with two cups of coffee in your stomach, sitting becomes torture as the coffee makes its way through your system.  So you sit there, squirming in your seat, with your eyes watering and your ears ringing until you feel like you are going to burst so you jump up and run to the restroom just in the nick of time.  I can almost guarantee that as soon as you return to your seat, feeling all relieved, they will call your name.  Secondly, if you do manage to hold it, there's the little issue of what to do when you not only reach the minimum fill line but the maximum line as well, and its still coming!  Its not like you can turn the faucet off.

So... drink lots of fluids, but no coffee!  And what ever you do, don't attempt to fill up your gas tank before going to the clinic! 

THE DRUG TEST and getting high with Juah Valdez!

I took my drug  test on Friday for the job.  If 87 midgrade unleaded shows up on the pee test I may be a SAHM a little longer than planned.  Rocky forgot to disengage the handle lock when she removed the gas nozzle from the truck and I got doused with gasoline.  50 cents worth.  That may not seem like much, especially with today's prices, but it was enough to soak my jeans and shirt.   I had an hour before my final interview and I smelled like a molotav cocktail. 

I cleaned up, but the gas from my jeans (not THAT gas!) soaked through the seat in the truck so I was breathing the fumes all the way to the clinic.  I don't know if my face was hot from embarrassment or from being buzzed off of ethyl octane but I was red.  Each time they asked to see my ID card, which had been in my front jeans pocket at the time of the accident, I had to first make sure they weren't near any open flame.   I worried when it was placed on the copy machine.  They haven't called me back yet.  I'm afraid the first call may have gone to the DEA.

I went elk hunting all weekend.  To be more specific, I went hiking all weekend.  One must shoot and kill their prey to hunt.  One must actually see something to shoot in order to hunt.  The only shooting I did was with my camera.  You can't fill the freezer with pictures of trees and cactus.  Each night when we drove up, the kids would meet us on the porch, peering eagerly at the truck bed for signs of a successful hunt.  Each time their looks of anticipation were replaced with frowns of disappointment.  Last night at supper time there was a minute sence of satisfaction in knowing that I had provided for my children, even if it was just grease marinated KFC.

I have coffee grounds, finally, but now the coffee scoop is missing.  The substitute in this creative family of mine... an ice cream scoop!  I don't know how accurate it is, but the buzz from the caffeine these past three days is better than any mid-grade ethyl in the country!

WOO HOO! Vote for the Dust Bunnies!

You're not going to believe this, heck I can hardly believe it myself, but Dust Bunnies got nominated for the ViVi Awards Best Family Journal!  I'm still walking on air (or maybe its just dust bunnies, but I'm up there!).  I started this journal about a year and a half ago mostly to defy all of those housekeeping and home decorating divas, but the more I wrote, the more I realized that I'm not the only domestically challenged person out there to the point where we are actually the norm and those organizationally endowed people are actually the minority.  Over the months I have had as much fun reading the comments as I have in sharing my experiences.

Of course mine is not the only journal nominated for Best Family Journal.  There are 5 other wonderful ones well worth the clicking if you haven't already visited them.  Hmmmmm, they're probably all better role models then me, but remember, this is a contest for the BEST FAMILY JOURNAL, not the best family role model, so read the other journals, and then vote for the Dust Bunny Club!

BEST FAMILY JOURNAL:
ChaseNKids - chasenkids
LorisLaurels - my78novata
My Big Fat Greek Life - derasta
Sara's Days - sarajanesmiles
Where life takes you... - ryanagi

To all of you who made this all possible, thank you so much for this honor.  Even just being nominated is more than I ever dreamed possible... but thats not to say that I wouldn't like to actually WIN.   Judging by the other nominees, I'm a bit outclassed, but oh so happy to even be in the race!  Thank you all very VERY much.

p.s.  My photo journal, Through the Eyes of the Beholder, also got a nomination. 

FOR ZACK'S FRIENDS

One day last week my son Zack mentioned to me that his friends were complaining that I don't post enough pictures of him.  Apparently they are lurkers to my various journals, but in their lurking they seemed to have overlooked the graduation picture, the birthday picture, the hunting pictures, etc.  I pointed this out to Zack, and yet each day he pulls up my journals and then turns to me in disappointment and asks when I'm going to post another picture of him.  So Zack, this one's for you and all of your little lurking friends....  It really highlights your finer features, don't you think?  Hope you enjoy it!

Love ya!  Mom

ps:  if any of you friends of Zack's are hoping to meet him, just remember:  he doesn't like bright light (which is why he is online late at night), don't get him wet, and never feed him after midnight.

TRAGEDY STRIKES THE DUST BUNNY PALACE.

The only bad thing about someone else making the coffee in the morning is that you don't know when the coffee grounds run out until its too late.  6:00 am is too late.  It doesn't help when the empty coffee ground can gets put back on the cart, giving the false impression that there is something in it.  Imagine my surpise when I peeled back the cover with anticipation only to discover that the can was empty.  The disappointment, the utter dispair... the horror!

I know it sounds pathetic, but I have the can beside me, and every now and then I'll crack the lid and take a big, deep, cleansing breath, filling my lungs up the with lingering aroma of ground coffee.  I'm hoping the fragrant scent will hold me over until I can get out and buy some more coffee.  I don't say this often, but today, right here, right now, at this very moment... it sucks to be me!

Last night Dickidoo brought home some beer from the liquor store.  Its funny, I never realized just how bad off we were financially until my husband brought home a brown bag with two 40 oz. bottles of... (gasp!) Budweiser beer!   

No real beer, and now no coffee.  Its definitely time to get my butt back to work.

THE BOND BOYS

These are my favorite Bond Boys.  Cord is my neighbor and son by default, kind of like a common-law son if you will.  Its been fun watching him and Art grow up together over the past 6 years.  This year they are in Choir together.  As you can see they are the class clowns.  After a concert last night the boys made me stop at 7-11 because as Art explained 'While girls have mood swings, boys have food swings.'

THE LAST DAYS OF A SAHM, and more pics from Iraq

Okay, I tried but I couldn't do it.  I can't handle being a Stay At Home Mom.  Well, thats not entirely true, I loved the staying at home part, having control of the TV remote, being able to work on the computer undisturbed.  I just hated the expectations that came with the acronym.  Expectations like having a clean house, and a hot 4 course meal.  And to be honest, the pay sucks!  So I am hanging up my unused apron for my 'How May I Help You' smock once again.  I shall miss my Court TV and Home Makeover shows, but now I can replenish my dwindling supply of Licensed Character Toe Socks.  Yipee!

Its just a part-time job, 9-6 on weekdays, and my weekends are shot, but not until AFTER elk season!

I've got more Pictures From Iraq Part 3, and a story about Christmas in October in my Letters to Gabe.

HADGI COLA

I got two new pictures from Gabe of him and his buddies.  I still can't get over how young they are.  I'm glad Gabe waited to join until he was 20, so he had time to enjoy being a teenager the way teenagers should be.  But man, doesn't he make a handsome soldier?  I still can't believe that less than 2 years ago he had hair down to his waist.

Pictures from Iraq, Part 2

BODY MASS INDEX

"Does this body make me look fat?"

I've been living in a dreamstate called 'Denial' for many years now.  Oh, I've always acknowleged that I have a weight issue, but I never researched it to see just how bad off I was until recently.  According to one researcher, I was .03 over the line that separated the over-weight from the obese.  I was legally obese!  How could I be obese?  Obese is someone who is really overweight.  Well duh!  According to just about every medical report, I am really overweight for my age and height .

But... I knew if I looked hard enough I would find a way to get me out of the category of obesity.  No, it wasn't some new fad diet or miracle pill.  It was another report! 

According to this calculator from Halls MD I am not obese, just merely 'overweight'.  If you have been avoiding BMI (body mass index) calculators like the plague, check this one out.  I don't know how accurate it is but it sure makes me feel like I'm wearing 4 sizes smaller!

Body Mass Index calculator you'll like

MY WEEKEND, MY WEEK

Its big game season in Colorado.  I spent the weekend in the hills of Fort Carson.  Each morning for the past 3 weekends we would wake up at O'dark hundred (thats military speak for 'up before the sun and any sane person'), climb into the truck and drive off into the badlands.  I call them the badlands because no matter which way you walk its all uphill and thats BAD!

We were in search of the elusive mule deer.    My son Zack was the one hunting.  I was just along for the photo opportunity.  I was huffing and puffing as usual and  Zack just laughs and tells me that I'm out of shape.  Duh!  I'm 45, I weigh 20x my birth weight.  I'm not supposed to be trampsing around the mountains like a fricken mountain goat, thank you very much Mr. 'Eats like a pig but never puts on an ounce!'

Zack shot his deer yesterday morning.  He's happy because now he gets to sleep in.  I'm happy because I finally get to shower and use shampoo that smells like... shampoo... not soap that smells like dirt!  This week will be spent processing the deer.  By processing I mean trimming the meat off the bones, grinding up some for burger, and packaging them up in neat white packages like Sam the Butcher.  Sound like fun?  Its not.  But its good meat in the freezer for the winter, so its well worth it.

Come Saturday morning I will once again be up at O'dark hundred as elk season gets underway.  I probably won't get my elk.  I don't think they exist.  Their tracks are everywhere, but no animals.  I think they can smell us coming.  And its not me, because I will smell like dirt again... no, its the license we have to carry.  Somehow they can detect the scent of a person who is licensed to kill and they hightail it out of the country until the season is over.  They're no dummies thats for sure.  No, I'm the dummy, getting up before I can even see the ground in front of me and running up and down the mountains while the elk watch from the next mountain over, laughing at the little pumpkin shaped figure going around in circles.  Agh, I'm getting too old for this, why am I doing it again?  Oh, I remember ... good meat.

Yeah, well, the older and fatter I get, the more and more hotdogs are rising to the top of the 'good meat' list.

For a picture of Zack's buck, click here:
Treestand ramlin' (and other tall tales) 

WORD OF THE DAY:

hiccup-otamus

I learned a new word today from Rocky.  The word is 'hiccupotamus', which is what you get if you have the hiccups for longer than a week.  I also learned a new way of measuring a week.  No longer is it 7 days.  Now, or at least in the case of the rare 'hiccupotamus' malady, a week is 24 hours, which is exactly how long Rocky's week long affliction of hiccups has lasted.  The poor kid can't even complete a sentence without hiccuping at least once.  (Don't you just hate when that happens?)

'BORD' IS A 4-LETTER WORD

Today sucked.  I was bored all day.  Its not that I didn't have anything to do.  Goodness, there were piles of laundry that were second only to the piles of dirty dishes.  No, there was plenty to do, but nothing I wanted to do.

As a kid growing up, I was not allowed to use that word in the house.  'Bored' was a forbidden word.  My mom would hit the roof any time she heard it.  After a while we learned never to use it if she was within earshot, because once the ranting was over she would always find us something to do to keep our minds off of our boredom.   They were never good things, or fun things.  They were things like matching dozens of mis-matched socks, pulling weeds or washing windows.

But today I was bored.  I was good ole fashioned, nothing to do bored!  I looked at the dishes on the counter... and thats about as far as that went.  I tossed a teeshirt on the ever-growing laundry pile, I checked the computer a gazillion times to see if Gabe was on, and nothing... NOTHING tickled my 'gotta do-it' bone.

So what does one do on a day like today?  Abso-fricken-lutely nothing!  But my son Art has saved me.  He borrowed Monty Python's Holy Grail from a friend so now I am off to visit the Knights of Ni.

I'VE GOT PICTURES!

NativeHopi [9:19 AM]:  mommy!!!!
Dornbrau [9:20 AM]:  .08
Dornbrau [9:20 AM]:  2.3
Dornbrau [9:20 AM]:  Oops...
Dornbrau [9:20 AM]:  Hi Gabe!  Sorry, I was so excited I knocked something on my keyboard
NativeHopi [9:20 AM]:  what are those numbers
NativeHopi [9:20 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [9:20 AM]:  ohhhhhhhh
Dornbrau [9:21 AM]:  Thats the caffeine content in my coffee... need decaf! 
Dornbrau [9:21 AM]:  NOT!
NativeHopi [9:21 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [9:21 AM]:  cofee.lol
Dornbrau [9:21 AM]:  Oh Gabe, you should see the mountains right now, they are gorgeous!
NativeHopi [9:21 AM]:  i could use some of that
Dornbrau [9:22 AM]:  I'll send some through the d-drive, get your cup ready.
NativeHopi [9:22 AM]:  i was watching the weather channel and it says it snowed alot
Dornbrau [9:22 AM]:  Widefield only got a little, not enough to stick.  The got quite a bit up north, and to the west in the mountains.
Dornbrau [9:23 AM]:  I think its warmer outside than it is in the house.  The sun is shining out there.  I have nothing here... my toes are froze!
Dornbrau [9:23 AM]:  I'm not complaining though, its nice.
NativeHopi [9:25 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [9:26 AM]:  trying to send you some pictures
Dornbrau [9:26 AM]:  Cool, I wanna see!
NativeHopi [9:27 AM]:  im workin on it. trying to figure this shit out
Dornbrau [9:28 AM]:  Is that a thumbdrive?  
NativeHopi [9:33 AM]:  ya there
Dornbrau [9:34 AM]:  Yep.
Dornbrau [9:34 AM]:  Not as easy as writing with crayons is it?
NativeHopi [9:35 AM]:  lol
NativeHopi [9:35 AM]:  sooooooo
Dornbrau [9:36 AM]:  Woo hoo!  I got them!

PICTURES FROM IRAQ

JUMPING JEHOSEPHAT!

I woke up this morning to the smell of fresh brewed coffee.  That NEVER happens here.  I rub my eyes because I think I may still be asleep, maybe even in the wrong house.  I must be in Heaven.  I scuffle to the bathroom and sit down.  I reach for the toiletpaper.  The roll is empty.   

Okay, this is the right house.

But I have fresh coffee waiting for me when I'm done drip-drying.  Ahhhh, life's simple pleasures!

ORGANIZED SAHM? ME? HAHAHA!

This one cracked me up, thanks Gem!

hi there!
you know I've typed "organized home, sahm" on the AOL search box and your page came up?

(http://aolsearch.aol.com/aol/search?invocationType=topsearchbox.webhome&query=organized+home+sahm)

I thought I'd let you know. When I saw your link (took me to an entry you wrote back in march 2005..about spring cleaning?) I said "hey..I've read this journal before.." :-)

"If I'm going to have a messy house, I may as well have a job as an excuse for it, and get paid to boot!..."

um..thanks for the idea! LOL!
I enjoyed this entry.
Take care,
Gem :-)

http://journals.aol.com/libragem007/JournallyYours
Comment from libragem007 - 10/9/05 9:27 PM

BREAD AND JAM FOR JODY

When I was a little girl one of my favorite books was Bread and Jam for Frances.  I remember reading it, laying on the floor on my tummy while nibbling on my own jelly smeared slice of bread.  There was a virtual, stereo-like quality when sharing the same meal as the character in the book.  Blackberry jam was always my favorite.  I read that book all through grade school, from Virginia to Connecticut, to Scotland and then Hawaii.  I believe somewhere along the way myparents bought me a copy of the book... or maybe it was purchased for my baby sister.  At any rate, after a while it was always at hand when ever the urge hit me.

So naturally it was one of the first books I bought for my own children.  Over the years I have read the story, in various prints and publications more than any other book I know of.  The story was almost always accompanied by bread covered with some sticky, sweet variety of jam or jelly.  It was almost a requirement.

This morning I dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and went to the refrigerator in search of some jelly to spread on my 'breakfast'.  There, in the very front of the shelf, was a sticky jar of blackberry jam, the childrens' favorite.  Gleefully I pulled it out and when the toast was ready, I spread the jam on generously.  One bite and I was instantly transported to a time when cares were few and where life included one very tenacious and precocious little badger named Frances, who's favorite snack of jam and bread taught me, and my own children, the pleasures of reading.  And I can't help but wonder... is there such a thing as the bread and jam diet  because that is something I think I could do.

A NEW JOURNAL WORTH THE READING

I received a link for a journal in an email the other day from someone I had never heard of.  I love to read new journals.  I clicked on the link, not knowing what I would find, but eager none the less.  The journal was titled Francesco's Life.  It is written by a very loving and devoted daughter and takes the reader along with her on her visits to her father at the nursing home he resides in.  After just a few entries one begins to understand why she loves her sometimes crotchity father.  You begin to love him as well.  You meet the other residents.  You wish you were there with her, to help her as she tries to offer them a little comfort as she passes by.

I find myself clicking on the link each day, eager to check in on Francesco.  I highly recommend this journal, which is so eloquently written.  But don't take my word for it, check it out for yourself.  You may, however, want to start here, at the Beginning.

NOW ITS ON!

Dickidoo was on the couch last night, mumbling something about forgetting to look something up online.  Thinking that he had said 'bows', I demanded to know why, being as he already had 2 which he hasn't used in a couple of years.

"Duh!  I said Lowes!  I think you need a hearing aid in your old age."  he said.

Well, now isn't that just special, coming from someone who looked at the picture in my previous entry and asked:  "Hey Jo, did you do something to that picture?  It looks kind of funny."  Duh!

That does, of course, make him fair game for more of my warping experimentations, especially when he can't even tell the difference!  And let me just add that I started writing this entry last night but wasn't going to go through with posting it... until this morning when Dickidoo decided that it would be fun to turn the bedroom light on at 4:30am.  That was just plain spiteful I say!  He was soooooo jealous because I could sleep in this morning and he couldn't.  And then... the clincher was when I got up and stumbled to the bathroom in a caffeine-deprived haze... and fell into the toilet!  Another deliberate act of spite on his part.  

So yeah, Dickidoo... thanks!  And have a nice day!  Whats that you say dear?  Did I do something to your picture?  No, of course not!  It looks funny you say?  Looks about right to me.

Hey Rudolph!  Did you know it's deer season in Colorado?

OOMPAS, a reader's suggestion

"Employ the Oompas to their best ability. AND make them sing fun songs!"

Comment from cdittric77 - 10/7/05 8:33 AM

* Note:  No Oompas were harmed in the making of this entry, however I may suffer serious consequences once they see this picture.  If that is the case, its been nice knowing you all, see you on the flip side!  Dorn 

FAVORITE PHOTOS, and other journals.

It has come to my attention that some of you folks may not be aware that I have a few other journals here in the great halls of AOL.  I have them all listed (at least the ones I'll admit to) there in my [Other Journals] column but let me just mention them again here. 

There's my photo journal Through The Eyes of the Beholder (where I post my more serious pictures so as not to oversaturate you all here), my Bloggers Anonymous (sort of a support group for other journal-addicts like myself), my hunting journal... Treestand Ramblin' and Other Tall Tales (this one is more about Dickidoo than anything else) and finally my Letters to Gabe, which was started when my oldest son left for Basic training last fall.  Now with him in Iraq I continue to post letters from myself, family, and friends and he reads them when ever he can get to a computer, which is getting harder now that he's in the hot-zone.

I want you all to know that I take my blogging very seriously.  I have sacrificed precious time that could have (and perhaps even should have) been spent cleaning the house or on employment of some sort, however, I chose instead to spend my time hitting the keyboard to provide this invaluable community service for you.  Sit back, relax, enjoy, and really, no thanks are necessary.  As always, it is my pleasure.  (Besides, I can always get the Oompas to do my housework before Dickidoo comes home.)

DREAM MACHINE, dirt poor and no IM today.

As a kid I always wanted to have my very own gumball machine. Well, I finally got my bubblegum machine but I've found something better to put in it than bubble gum!  Yep, now I've got my very own Corona machine!  It doesn't get much better than this! 

I put in an application at my old store.  I have decided that Dickidoo cannot afford me.  We can no longer maintain the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed to... you know, the lifestyle of the poor and nameless.  Now we're even poorer and all of our creditors know our names!  Agh!  Okay, its not that bad, but it could be real quick if I don't do something soon.  Besides, I need some more toe socks and Dickidoo has me on a very strict anti-toe-sock budget.

I don't mind having to go back to work.  This stay-at-home-mom deal really isn't for me.  Oh, I don't deny the benefits to the kids as far as their schooling goes and I love all of the free 'me' time, but all those plans for getting the house in order... well, its been 6 months and I still have a huge pile in the laundry room.  The nasty old carpet still covers my beautiful hardwood floors, and the house is still a mess.  If I'm going to have a messy house, I may as well have a job as an excuse for it, and get paid to boot!

Gabe hasn't been online in over 36 hours.  I knew the time would come, but dang... I was hoping it wouldn't.    I left AOL on all day, and my buddy list is open to accept only his IM's.  I've watched the screen from across the room, and I have the volume on the speakers cranked up loud so I can hear him log on even if I'm not in the room, but its been quiet.  Only 11½ more months to go.   If he can do it, so can I, right?

BABY, ITS COLD INSIDE!

 

Its 61ºf in my house.  I had to step into my refrigerator to warm up a little bit.  Brrrrr!  My goosebumps are in direct competition with my perkiness which are so frozen I'm afraid they might break off!  Time to get the fireplace going.   I love this time of year!

FLOWERS, and Rocky comes home.

Check it out, flowers!  Real live flowers... in my yard!  And they aren't even dandilions... they're marigolds... in MY yard!

Yeah, I know, they probably came to me via bird turds, but so what!  I've got real live flowers in my yard!  Yipee!

Rocky came home today.  There hasn't been a moment of silence since she walked in the door... except maybe for the moment following my tale of woe from the whole shower-head-gone-wild fiasco in which I closed with the revelation that the towel she had used the other morning had previously fallen into the toilet.  Her wicked little giggles ceased immediately.  The look on her face definitely made it all worth it.

I'M JUST A LITTLE BIT WARPED!

The picture in the About Me column was taken before I drank that Corona.  This is me after my 3rd bottle!  Yeah, its not a pretty sight.  Even Dickidoo trys to be a little imblibed before he lets me pop open a beer.  My kids friends think I'm cool because they really believe that I am one of the original Oompa Loompas.
(Yeah, I just discovered the warp tool on my PaintshopPro, I love this thing!  My kids are going to kill me when they see what I've done to their pictures!  Especially those rock-n-roll haters!  Geriatric indeed!)

3 POINTS FOR ROCKY, and the Geriatric Rockers.

I wanted to take a shower before the concert, so I went into my bathroom, started to undress and stuck my arm in to turn on the shower.  Something was wrong though.  I heard the water, but I didn't see it.  At least not before I felt it.  I looked down to see the loose shower head twisting on its hose, shooting water everywhere.  I tried to shut the shower door to contain the spray but there was a grinding sound of metal against metal.  The shower doors were off their tracks.  I dropped my shirt and grabbed the shower head, twisting it and replacing it on its holder at the top of the shower wall.  I was soaked.  Singing my praises (not really) for Rocky, who had showered last, I struggled with the doors until they were back on their tracks.  Finally, success.  That was when I saw my teeshirt, in the toilet.  Singing even higher praise, I scooped the shirt out of the pot, wrang it out and tossed it into the sink.  Just wonderful!

My shirt was still in the sink when Dickidoo came home.  Naturally he inquired as to why it was in the sink.  'Long story' I said, but told him anyway, being as I was in need of a little sympathy.  Of course he thought it was funny, he always does.

"Hahaha," he cackled.  "The same thing happened with the blue towel."

"What?  What blue towel?"  Yep, you guessed it, I had used a blue towel.

"I didn't hang it up, I left it on the floor" he insisted through his laughter.  But there was no towel on the floor, and the only towel hanging up was the blue one I had just dried off with.

"Well, it was hanging up!" I accused, unable to see what he found so amusing about me drying off with a towel that had fallen into the toilet.  "Was it that Winnie the Pooh towel?" I asked, pointing to the towel I had hung back up on the rail to dry.

"Nope, just a plain blue one" he said.  Immediately I felt better because I had used the blue Winnie the Pooh towel.

Rocky probably grabbed the other blue towel.  Good!  Serves her right, that precious little sweetheart.

The concert was a disaster.  REO, who is an awesome band, didn't play very well last night.  The instuments were way too loud and drowned out the vocals, which was actually a good thing because the vocals were way off!  Needless to say, Becca wasn't very impressed.  I tried to get her to stay for Styx, who is always an awesome live band, but she was miserable, and since it was her birthday I sacrificed my night (sniff... ) for her.  Of course she felt guilty and cried.  First she cries because she hated the music, then she cried because we left.  Yep, she's turning into a fine young woman! 

I was eventually able to talk her back into a good mood and we feasted on a kiwi, strawberry and mandarine orange birthday cake.  (Yes, that is another one of them hill-billy birthday tealight candles). Ya know, REO was bad, but they weren't that bad and I don't think they've ever made anyone cry before.  Maybe tears of joy, but tears of total dispair?  That has got to be a first.  Well, we made the kids go.  We didn't give them a choice.  They had to listen to the band.  Fair is fair and we had to listen to the kids cut up on our band.

"I thought they would have those walker things." Art says.  "Are they Geriatric Rockers?"

"They're Old Wrinkled Rockers." Becca pouts.  "They have to be at least in their 40's!"

Gee kids, thanks!  Sorry REO, I didn't want to walk out on you.  And Styx.... STYX!  NOOOOO!

But I shall have my revenge!  I shall play my REO Speedwagon dvd and Styx cd's for the rest of the week! Those kids will be seeing Geriatric Rockers in their dreams, with rhinestone walkers and old, wrinkly 40-something Polident smiles!  And I'll be in the front row flicking my Bic, swaying with my love handles hanging out of my cropped top and tight leggings... in a sea of other geriatric groupies!  And my kids won't be able to wake up!  I will MAKE them sleep in!  Hahahahaha!

Kids!  They just don't know real music when they hear it!

CHANGES IN LATITUDE

Dickidoo tried to cop a feel yesterday.  He sat there beside me with a smug smirk as he felt me up with his elbow.  I had to tell him that he was jabbing my love handle, not my boob!  I didn't know whether to be offended that he thought it was that low and couldn't tell the difference, or just plain happy that it was actually higher than he thought it was!  I might have to dwell on that one.

Okay, I'm done dwelling.  And I'm happy!  Woo hoo!  I've regained positive latitude!  My perkiness is pointing up!  I have beaten the grip of gravity.  I am.... boobilicious again! (thanks schnozbeary for that adjective... I love it!)  Gotta love them pick'em up bras!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECCA

Goodness, has it really been 14 years?  Where has the time gone?  I still remember when I first found out about you, how I cried because I didn't know what the future would hold for you.  Your father was in Kuwait.  I was barely holding together with 3 children, how would I handle a fourth?  But the flutter of movement, the whisper of a heartbeat and it didn't matter.  My fears were dissolved. 

A daughter, a beautiful dainty daughter.  You were my butterfly of hope in a crazy time.  One could not help but smile when they laid eyes on you.  Later, when doctors scratched their heads as they tried to explain to me why I was losing my daughter, I saw your determination and you proved them wrong.  To this day they cannot say what went wrong and then what went right.  Once again, it didn't matter.  You are here.

And you are 14, a beautiful young woman.  With determination in your eyes.  I know you will achieve anything you set your heart to.  It is all you know how to do.

Happy birthday Rebecca.

Loving you always,

Mom

ROCKY GOES TO CAMP, and an IM from Gabe

 Rocky left for camp this morning.  She will be gone for 3 days.    She insisted on using her daddy's Army rucksack.  That thing was taller than her and after she packed it, it probably weighed more than she did as well.  We had to put it on a luggage cart just so she could move it.  But she's a big girl now because she's going to camp without mom and dad!  I will miss her, naturally, but boy is it going to be quiet.  I don't think that child has stopped talking since she said her first word 11 years ago!

I was online earlier and I got an IM from nativehopi.  That would be Gabe!  Woo hoo! He mentioned that his previous camp had been mortared, but nobody had been hurt.  That was a relief.  And it was the wake-up call they all needed.  Too often new troops ride into battle in a blaze of glory and have no idea of what they are getting themselves into until its too late.  These guys got their eyes opened real quick and will be more alert and cautious.  It was like a firedrill.  Now they know.  Fortunately his unit is no longer at that location.  That is a big relief to me.

I went out with the guys Saturday and yesterday morning.  Zachary is hunting for a buck.  We've seen all sorts of does wandering around, but the bucks, they have smelt the buck license and they are all in hiding.  Smart animals!  Each time I go out I find I am more and more fit.  Okay, I'm still out of shape, but I don't pant and wheeze as bad anymore.  I still wander and find myself having to catch up with Dickidoo.  Yesterday he had to back track twice, and the look on his face each time was not one of concern or relief.   What a grump!  (ah, but he DID turn back, so I know he really does care! hehehehe!)

It was funny waiting for the sun to rise because our stomachs were growling and making all kinds of noise.  It sounded like a chorus of coyotes, ducks, frogs ... (and the occasional skunk!)  I'm sure the deer heard it as well, which is probably why we didn't see any of them.

Tonight we go to the Styx and Reo concert.  I can't wait to see the kids reaction.  Will they still think of them as 'old people music', or will they enjoy it like they did when they saw the Austrailian Pink Floyd.  I suspect the latter.