Monday, July 31, 2006

More Adventures in Food Preservation

I have a word to the wise should you ever decide to freeze jalapeno peppers for future use.


Okay, I know peppers will leave residue on your hands and that you need to wash thoroughly before doing anything else. What I found out after handling 2 gallons of cut, seeded and washed peppers is that no amount of hand washing is going to help. Even having your hands close to your face but not touching (if you're a smoker) will make your skin burn. Your hands will burn and tingle for HOURS! And if you are an unfortunate soul like my dear husband, DO NOT, whatever you do, pee for several hours after cleaning peppers.

But I do have 2 great recipes for jalapeno poppers.

Cheese mixture:
cream cheese
monterey jack
minced garlic
sun dried tomatoes

Sorry for no quantities, I mix stuff until it looks/tastes good.

Jalapenos #1

Slit whole peppers on one side only and clean out seeds. Fill with cheese mixture, and wrap with bacon, using a toothpick to secure it. Grill until bacon is crisp or the grill catches on fire from all the bacon grease.

Jalapenos #2

Half peppers and clean out seeds. Or not, if you seek revenge on someone. Spread cheese mix on jalapeno halves, then drag through flour, then egg, and finally seasoned bread crumbs. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Serve with lots of beer.

Leaving the seeds in will definitely make the peppers hotter, and just in case you ever needed to know, they, uh, float. Afterwards. Entertainment value only.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Tick Tick Tick

It's getting close to decision time on whether Chica stays or goes.I've spent the past few days carefully weighing what is done well, and what is constantly messed up. And I have to tell you, the biggest thing that is messed about Chica?

She dresses her Yorkie up in clothes. Says she spends more on her dog's clothes than she does her own. That, to me, is so fundamentally wrong I can't even get my brain around it.

Take computer backgrounds, for example. My screen background is that picture I took at Montezuma's Castle in Arizona. Very unique limestone formation, perfect for work.
Hers? Her friggin' dog is dressed up like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

Maybe I should call PETA. Because if it's wrong for humans to wear animal hide, it sure as HELL must be wrong to have little yappy dogs in blue gingham.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The Secret's Out!

Dear Tammi ,

Birthdays can bring out a lot of different emotions, and being the friend I am (snort!) I have provided you with gifts for several!


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Happy Birthday!!!!

h/t to AWTM for letting the cat out of the bag.

The Beloved


Know what today is??

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Still don’t know?

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Aw, c’mon! It’s the first day of Bear Training Camp !

I do love my beloved Bears!

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

My meeting yesterday afternoon was NOT about my absence Monday.
See, about once a year someone notices that I am overworked, no, make that overtasked, and that alot of the things I do could be done by a minion. (Sorry, Contagion that is too good of a word not to use!)
I am on my fourth in two years. Not a one of them has lasted more than four months. And this newest one doesn't have the slightest clue about what goes on in a mine. She does not have good phone skills, knows nothing of construction, geology or trucking. She does, however, speak Spanish. I should be thrilled, but she doesn't know what she's talking about when she speaks to the non-English customers, and except for a word or two, I don't know what she's telling them! Mistakes are being made that are costly. I am tired of hearing how it was daylight when she got in on any particular night. (This job is not condusive to drinking on a "school night"; I'm usually in bed by 7 p.m.)

So Chica is not working out, and it is up to me to decide ff she is at all salvageable or if she needs to go. I have until Friday to make my decision.

Now, if I could only have as much input in the hiring process as I do the firing!!


Ahhh! It’s Wednesday and I just now notice that
Bill Whittle had a new chapter up on Monday??!!

While Bill holds court on the subject of Civilization, there is one paragraph I must share:

Now “progress” and “civilization” are ironic terms, in sneer quotes, muttered with that pathetic, bored tone of cynical nihilism started by the narcissistic brats that I have been ten years behind for my entire life. Today, I try to exercise and watch my weight only so that I may live long enough to see the last of these radical hippies die in their sleep.

Damn! The man has given me reason to live!

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Oh Nice

I have to have a meeting after work tonight with upper management. I'm fairly sure it's because I took most of yesterday off for the funeral.

After I was told there was no one to cover for me and I couldn't go.

This ought to be good.

Farewell, Comrade

One of the downsides, if you can call it that, of having friends that are mostly veterans is that they are older than Old Sarge and me. I have racked my brain trying to think of any true close friends that we have outside the VF*n*W, and I come up blank. So we socialize with folks that are in their late 50’s to early 80’s. At 50, Old Sarge is one of the youngest veterans. WWII and Korean War veterans are leaving us by the thousands, so consequently, we are losing our friends.

We lost a dear one last Thursday.

Old Sarge and I had known Al and Betty all our lives, me because they lived a few blocks away and their kids were my age, and OS because he took the daughter to Homecoming. (another story!) When we resettled back home, Al and Betty went from being the parents of our friends to OUR friends. Betty was an only child; her parents were quite prominent and well off, but Betty was a tomboy and didn’t care much for being a belle of society. Allen’s family didn’t have a lot, and I gather the general perception was that Betty had married beneath herself. I don’t think she minded much. She never worked outside the home, loved the Cubs almost more than her children, drank Old Milwaukee because she liked it and died way too soon three years ago. At her funeral, she was wearing her favorite Cubs shirt, and the last song of the service was “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”.

Al….I don’t know where to start. Gruff, blunt, profane, loud. Heart of gold. I never knew until yesterday that he received a Bronze Star in Korea. He used to make the Marine veterans nuts by saluting backwards and left handed. If he got really feeling ornery, he would leave his teeth on top of your beer can. There are stories I could tell by the hour, and I don’t think I could properly convey what a special old coot he was. I remember stopping by the house when Betty was so ill, and Al wouldn’t let me in. I was pretty hurt, but he said, “Child, she’s miserable and can’t really talk. I don’t want you to see her or remember her like this.” I understand it now, and I’m glad he knew better than I did. Al had a saying for just about everything; when it was time to leave, he would “pull the pin and head for the shed”, or “Betty…the CAR!” My favorite was “Tally Ho the Fox!” I have no idea what that meant, but the delivery was priceless.

Al hadn’t been sick long, it wasn’t something that should have killed him, but stuff just started shutting down and he refused dialysis. I’m kind of mad about that, because I’m sure there were trips and auctions and chores at the farm left for him to do- he had PLANS, you know- but again, maybe Al knew something I don’t.

They played “Sentimental Journey” at the end of Al’s funeral yesterday. I think sometime soon, the cemetery being a nice walk from my house, I will take a sentimental journey and visit Al and Betty. May be have the huge cry that I have been needing but not allowed. Not yet. Until then, well, it just hurts.

Friday, July 21, 2006

And the Beat(ing) Goes On!

So...what are YOU doing this weekend?

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My internet connection (satellite) has been fried beyond belief, so I don’t know when I’ll get to post this. But I was cleaning my desk this morning, and found an editorial I had saved from January 19, 2001, the day before George W. Bush was inaugurated as President. Georgie Anne Geyer in the Chicago Tribune:

WASHINGTON- It was April of 1973, and I was in Baghdad for the first time, as a foreign correspondent for the Chicago Daily News. Without warning, I received some news from the Ministry of Information: I would have an interview with Iraq’s secretive leader, Saddam Hussein.
I found myself sitting in an elegant room in the palace of the Iraqi kings along the Tigris River, contemplating the figure of dread who sat next to me in the formal salon chair of a French monarch.
Saddam was tall and classically handsome, in his mid-30s then and dressed elegantly in a silk suit. But he seemed cold as a corpse as we sat there for four hours, accompanied only by his translator. There was no light behind his eyes and he remained totally without expression the entire time.
Once I asked him why it was said that he killed all of his enemies, most often with his own hands? And he answered without hesitation or emotion:”Sometimes when you are in an underground movement, you have to do things for your party that you would not do for yourself.”
I was the first foreign journalist ever to lay eyes on Saddam. In the previous weeks, Iraq had finally finished nationalizing the British-owned oil fields, at Kirkuk and elsewhere, and he wanted to sell oil to the world. I just happened to be the correspondent there at one of those historic moments.
And now today, there he is still. Of course, it is merely an “accident” that, as George W. Bush becomes president, we are this very week commemorating the 10th anniversary of the first days of the Gulf War. It is only a curious overlay of history that is was his father who waged the successful, but unfinished, war against Saddam. It is just one of those coincidences of history that Saddam Hussein is barely biding his time, planning to finish his job against the Bushes, as well as America and the West.
Yet it is also clear that George W. Bush has been bequeathed the single most dangerous foreign policy question he will face. The last eight years, with virtually no policy at all towards Iraq, have left us gravely open to many perils.
• With no weapons inspections for nearly two years now, Saddam is readying himself for another strike outward. He has rebuilt his supply of nerve gas and renewed his stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction. At his military parade in Baghdad on Dec. 31, he sent a message that he is resurgent, with more than 1,000 tanks on display (he had about 660 in 1996), and chemical weapons units armed with missiles and new surface-to-air systems.
• As with special “oil-for-food” arrangements with the UN Security Council, he is again exporting oil all over the world. Baghdad has said it can more than double oil-production capacity- up to 6 million barrels a day in three to four years- and it is clear that Saddam aims at supplanting the Saudis as the dominant force in OPEC, the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries. (There are also rumors, odd but potentially believable, of the formation of an implicit or explicit axis between Iraq, Russia and Venezuela’s left-leaning government.)
• Saddam aims to become the leader of a regional war, which he is stoking between the Palestinians and other Arabs and Israel. He has reportedly already given upward to the equivalent of $980 million to the Palestinians, in arms, in food and in family payments. His picture is everywhere in Palestine. Reportedly he is pushing the Iranian-supported Hezbollah movement in Lebanon to take part in a bigger war. Indeed, beleaguered Prime Minister Ehud Barak has predicted the possibility of such a regional war.
• President-elect Bush understands that the threat awaiting him is largely due to the Clinton administration’s wanton disregard for policy. He noted with concern in a recent New York Times article that the UN sanctions against Iraq had collapsed so much that “they resemble Swiss cheese.” Other top advisors, such as defense secretary nominee Donald Rumsfeld, favor aiding the Iraq resistance to overthrow Saddam, but Washington has not excelled at such imprecise and risky business. The administration should analyze how we won the Gulf War in 1991, and how we may lose it in 2001.
1) Never do half a job, particularly when dealing with a ruthless and persistent tyrant like Saddam Hussein. This does mean we should have marched to Baghdad, but it does mean that we should not have stood in the way of his own people overthrowing him.
2) If one depends upon something as imprecise as sanctions against a tyrannical government, enforce them strongly at all times. This means keeping Saddam in his “box” in Baghdad and not letting him (as President Clinton did) march north and destroy the “free-fly zone” of the Kurds. This means, too, keeping close contacts with the rest of the Arab coalition, which was not done.
3) Finally, plan a strategy and devise tactics accordingly. The major reason President Bush the Elder did not finish the job was that so many in the Pentagon and elsewhere got the bizarre idea that to defeat Saddam would be to “break up Iraq.” And we didn’t want that to happen.
What did we want to happen? Heaven knows. Maybe President Bush the Younger will know.

This raises some very interesting questions, most importantly why do I save shit like this and why haven’t I cleaned in over 5 years?
Seriously, though, this editorial reinforces the mindset that we had as a nation at that time, especially regarding WMDs. We “knew” Saddam had them, and this is before GW was even in office. We “knew” that a world without Saddam would be a better place. Georgie Anne Geyer is no friend of the Bush administration, but she definitely had the situation in Iraq down pat. Why in the name of all thing holy do we doubt ourselves now?

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Boiling Blood and Daily News

If there is anyone I hate as much as Cindy Sheehan, it’s got to be those batshit crazy fuckers that protest military funerals. Despicable. I found
little gem over at Ace of Spades and while I’ve never heard of Julie Banderas before, I hope Fox News keeps her. She delivered an ass whoppin'.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Much Ado About Nothing

As promised, I have pictures from the protest. Honestly, they are not very good. To get close enough to really see or hear anything, you had to go through a checkpoint, show ID and submit to a search. Sorry kids, but I didn’t want the picture that bad.

This is the Aryan Anarchist Skins- all four of them.
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This image below is from the Rockford Register Star.
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Just so you know, these are ALL WOMEN!!!

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The counter protesters were mostly local kids, yelling for the Nazis to go home.

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There were over 100 police there. In their tactical gear. 96 degrees. Spending their Saturday with this Comedy of the Absurd.

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In case you can’t read the back of this guy’s shirt, it says “One good fist is worth a thousand words”

So, that was the Big Deal. Four demonstrators, maybe 40 counter protesters, 140 police officers working security, probably 200 people standing outside the perimeter to see what the fuss was all about, and an estimated $60,000 to the taxpayers.

One of the radio stations interviewed Old Sarge. He told them that he spent most of his adult life protecting the right to have demonstrations like this, but it pissed him off to have to pay for it.


Thursday, July 13, 2006

Small Town Veteran goes bigtime

I just added Old War Dogs, Bill Faith's new group blog, over on my sidebar. Bill is a great American, and he has Russ Vaughn with him too.

I shouldn't, but...

Jake: Hey, what's going on?
Officer: Ah, those bums won their courtcase so they're marching today.
Jake: What bums?
Officer: The fucking nazi party.
Elwood: Illinois nazis...
Jake: I hate Illinois nazis.

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What In The HELL Update II

Just dying for details, aren’t you?

According to the paper and local gossip at the gas station this morning, a group called Aryan Anarchist Skins is going to be holding this “rally” at the courthouse on Saturday afternoon, with a barbeque to be held later at Lowden State Park. Also in attendance to counter protest will be the Black Panthers, and members of the Westboro Baptist Church from Kansas- Fred Phelps’ whack jobs- although no one is quite sure why they are coming. ALSO in attendance is the State Police SWAT team, FBI and God knows who else in law enforcement, including snipers on the roofs. Apparently someone posted on one of the websites advertising this…event…to come early and kill a cop.

Who says nothing ever happens in a small town?

From my comments “I guess it's not so surprising given the small white rural community.” Well, yes, it IS pretty surprising, actually. This area has always attracted migrant workers due to having canneries here. It’s not huge, and it’s not really a problem. Heck, we even have a Spanish Mass now. But in most respects, this is about as close to Mayberry as you can get.

All this HAS made me think a little more about illegal immigration, since this is allegedly what this whole fuss is about.

I don’t give a rat’s ass.

Now before anyone starts aiming both barrels in my direction, I want to make it clear that I make a big differentiation between illegal immigration and border security. I think people should be in this country legally. I know millions are not. Maybe that guest worker program wouldn’t be a bad deal. I don’t’ know, but I just can’t get my knickers in a twist wondering if the guy pouring my coffee at the restaurant is here legally or not. Breaking our laws- bad thing. Trying to survive- I understand that.
Border security, on the other hand, Can’t get enough of that. Because as easy as it is for somebody to get in that just wants to work, it’s just as easy for someone with bad intentions. I guess that’s my solution in a nutshell- let the workers in and get them legal, and make it hell to pay getting in any other way.

Damn, that’s just genius, isn’t it?

OH, and yes, Old Sarge and I will be downtown on Saturday. It isn’t every day the circus comes to town.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

What In The HELL update

HOLY SHIT! There IS going to be demonstration! Of the fucking anti-immigration and white pride variety!

I have a link to the website, ( I checked it out so you don’t have to ) so this is for real. I won't link it, but it can be found at stormfront dot org under forum.

I am befuddled at the moment….

Antithesis Revisited

I don’t know if anyone remembers my post back in March about CPL Jostes, but his brother Ben recently posted in the comments there. Just for the record, Ben, never forgotten. Ever.

You Say It's Your Birthday?

Tomorrow is AWTM’s birthday. Normally it takes me at least being three days late to get a birthday present out, but I am really trying to change my ways! SO…

Some chocolate, because that cures almost anything
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A bubble bath
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A bottle of my favorite wine from my favorite winemaker
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And some light reading while you’re munching, soaking and sipping!
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Happy Birthday!

What in the Hell?

I am hoping this post is much ado about nothing- a premature ejaculation if you will- but Old Sarge and I were talking last night about our weekend plans, and he said he heard there was going to be a big protest at the courthouse Saturday. Now, you have to understand two things here. One, our little town is the county seat and we have a whopping population of 4000 people. Not exactly where I would think to stage a protest. Two, getting information out of OS is a torturish affair, because he either can't remember what was said to him or it's so garbled you can't make sense of it. But the gist of what he told me was:
It's an immigration protest
Skinheads are supposed to be here
Black Panthers are supposed to be there
And Fred Phelps' group

This really doesn't make any sense at all, but...the fire department had a special meeting Monday night in preparation, and the state and county are beefing up their manpower for the weekend.

These three groups? Together? For an immigration protest in BFE? I sense the Apocalypse.

Monday, July 10, 2006

The Nautical Chronicles Part III

Just in case anyone is wondering why we haven't had guests on the boat, there is a reason. A very good reason.

We have yet to make an...uneventful...launch. This weekend was no exception.

Old Sarge got a six gallon gas can, just so we wouldn't run out again. So, we get ready to hook the trailer up, and for shits and giggles, OS tries to start the boat.


Fortunately, my dad has one of these nifty portable chargers, so I grabbed that out of his garage and viola! Battery is good to go.

Off we go, beautiful day, the river isn't very crowded and everything is fine. Until the motor starts sputtering. Okay, no worries, we have extra gas. Fill the fuel cell and...the motor dies. Will not start again. Dead battery again. Hook up the portable charger again and nothing.

To make matters worse, Illinois only requires that you have one paddle in the boat. What the hell kind of stupidity is that?? And who could be STUPID enough just to buy one paddle?

Um....we were. So we are dead in the water, so to speak, just upstream from the pumping station for the nuke plant. Directly under the high voltage lines that come from the nuke plant. My hair is standing on end, and I'm pretty sure Son #2 is now sterile. We're baking.

Fortunately, after about a half hour, the portable gave the battery enough of a boost to get us almost to the boat ramp, close enough for Old Sarge to swim us in. And I have discovered something unusual in my genetic makeup that I wouldn't have thought possible. All my Cherokee DNA is contained from my knees down! Seriously, I am fried except for my shins snd feet.

On a lighter note, my sister, brother-in-law, Old Sarge and I are doing to be repairing one of the old docks so we can leave our boats in. (My other sisters won't share their dock, bitches) I've noticed alot of folks have signs at their docks areas like Fishers Landing and what not. I think we need something a little more special.

Cantina Marina, anyone? Home of the first Rock River float-up margarita bar?

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Happy Birthday Drunken Wisdom!!

Everybody knows what today is, right? T1G’s 39th birthday!!

Happy Birthday buddy!

In honor of such an august occasion, I would like to give him such sage advice as my advanced years have afforded me.

Real estate. This coming year, I think you need to start securing your future by investing in real estate. That is one sure way to build wealth, so that you can afford your slacker lifestyle.

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Er, well, maybe not THAT particular piece of property!!

Have a wonderful birthday, friend, and I hope you’ll forgive me for going back on the promise I made NEVER to post pictures of you.

Oh! Presents! I almost forgot presents!

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The whole semi- because big engines take a lot of fuel

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My special gift **wink*wink**

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And just because…your own serving wench!

Friday, July 07, 2006

You're KIDDING me!

My husband called to ask if I minded if he went out with my brother and a friend tonight. I'm sure he expected me to say, No, I don't mind.


What he probably DIDN'T expect was for me to say, HELL NO, I don't mind, and take the Toxic Twins with you!! Stay for the weekend while you're at it!! This house needs a good scrubbing and I can't get it done with the three of you underfoot! Go! Scoot! Hasta manana!!

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Gardeners Gone Wild

It's that time of summer when all the nurturing and care and weeding of the vegetable garden is starting to pay off.

Holy shit, is it ever!!

I came home from work last night with new Mason jars, ready to start canning my beets. Old Sarge is already out in the garden building Tomato Condos. All you can see of him are his shoulders and his little bald head- the rest looks like the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Damn things have pulled their cages right out of the ground! So OS is framing in new homes for the tomatoes to rest their heavy branches on.

It's a sickness, I tell you. Think ya used enough fertilizer there, Butch? And now the green beans are ready for the first picking too. And they are loaded. I think I will be sporting scalded hands and forearms for a few weeks by the looks of things.
For anyone who is interested in canning, and I'm sure that's EXACTLY why anyone stops by here, I pressure canned half my beets and heat packed the other half. Only one jar out of each batch did not seal, but the color in the jars that were heat packed was much darker. Pressure cooking seemed to leech the rich redness out of the beets for some reason and they don't look as tasty.

One question for all those who live in my neck of the woods: have you seen any roadside stands for sweet corn? Here it is past the 4th of July, and where there usually would be at least four places on the way home to stop for corn, there are none. Maybe I've just got my time messed up, but it seems odd. Tammi? T1G? Contagion?

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Shout Out...

to Shayna :

On the way!

A Twisted Tale

It looks like T1G has made it home safe and sound. His latest post credits me as his muse- let me tell you, people, we may have met in a graveyard, but not even I knew his dark side went so deep!

The Nautical Chronicles Part II

Success at last! The Raging Boat, No Regrets, was finally launched Monday afternoon. Old Sarge, Son #2 and I went out for our maiden voyage.

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See? There’s water in the background!

We cruised down as far as Stronghold Castle, then turned around to head back upriver. I had made the comment that even though our boat was older and kind of small, it really made you feel like you’d stepped up a notch in the world to be out on the river.

The boat promptly quit.

Me: What’s wrong!!?? ( I am a very poor swimmer)
Old Sarge: I don’t know, it doesn’t want to seem to keep running.
Son #2: Uh, Dad?
Son #2: We’re out of gas.
OS: But it was full the time before last that we tried to go.

Let me point out it’s been in the shop since then. Six gallon tank. 70 hp motor.

Soooo….I Nexteled my sister and brother-in-law who fortunately were out on their pontoon, and they towed us to the marina. How embarrassing! Who doesn’t check the gas tank, for crying out loud?

All went well after that, except for taking on a little water, and we had a blast. When we went to take the boat out though, there were four young gentlemen at the adjacent ramp that apparently had been having a REALLY good time, i.e. drunk as skunks. One of these body-illustrated, nipple-pierced emaciated pixies decided to pee off the end of the dock in front of God and everyone. (Which was a lot of people- public dock) At that very moment, Old Sarge was giving me a hand out of the boat, and when I started to stand up…I farted. Not very loud, but pretty squeaky, and Old Sarge and I start laughing. Me hysterically so, because face it, nothing will make you scrunch your face up into an impossible rictus of hilarity and guffaw until the tears flow like your own windage. So OS is belly laughing, I’m doubled over shrieking laughing and Tattoo Boy thinks we’re laughing at his winkie. His buddies notice us, and they start laughing too, Tattoo Boy is now pissing all over himself and the dock, so they threw him off the end.

I suppose I should feel bad about that.

Anyway. We had fireworks out at the farm later that night. Our family get togethers being what they are, it wasn’t TOO much of a surprise to hear sirens pulling up, but it wasn’t the local authorities- my brother-in-law got a new toy for Father’s Day:

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Yes indeed, an M151 Jeep and trailer, 100% authentic. I lust.

For the 4th, we had a parade in Rochelle, and Son #2 marched with us. Apparently the Heiress is very taken with men in uniform, because she was all over Uncle.

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All in All, a great holiday.

Oh and for the locals- we’re going out on the boat again this weekend. There will be grandstand seating along River Road for those in need of comic relief.

Monday, July 03, 2006

The Nautical Chronicles

I mentioned a few weeks ago that we were buying a boat. My sister and her husband were upgrading, and this was something we could afford, plus hey! It’s our anniversary today!

Now to preface this story, my dad had a nice pontoon a few years ago, and he offered to let Old Sarge and I take it out one afternoon. Always grateful for a chance to get on the river, we took him up on it. We lug our coolers down to the dock and make ready to set sail. Except the damn thing will not start. No way, no how.

Flash Forward to the day we come up to Sissy’s to check out the boat. My brother-in-law has just had it out two days ago, and tries to start it for us. It doesn’t start. Nothing anyone does is doing any bit of good. They take it up to a boat repair place.

Then they invite us to go out on another sister’s pontoon, and again we pack coolers, fix snackies, etc. We get everything loaded on the pontoon and, you guessed it, it won’t start. We said fuck it, and sat on the pontoon for a few hours anyway. (and just so you KNOW what’s coming, when my other sister took the pontoon out next it started right up)

So my sister gets “our” boat back last week, and all I can think about is getting out on the river. We pack up the Exploder and haul the boat down to the ramp. Son #2 is backing the car down the ramp, the boat trailer getting deeper in the water, when I asked Old Sarge:

“Hey, isn’t the motor supposed to up?”
OS: “Shit! Son #2, pull the car up!”

So they pull the car up so that the motor won’t bottom out, and then back up again.

Me: “ I hate to sound like a worry wart, but is the plug in?”
OS: “Shit! Son#2, pull the car up!

Old Sarge gets the plug in, and they back up again. Old Sarge unhooks the boat from the trailer, set the motor down and….nothing. It won’t start. He tried for 10 minutes, and it just cranked.

So, since there were others waiting to use the ramp, we packed up and dropped the boat off my sister’s.

An hour later, my dad went over to my sister’s and tried to start the boat. The fucker fired right up.

Does anyone think we’re being sent a message loud and clear???

Saturday, July 01, 2006

In Passing

Lat night in the living room as the Heiress walks by:

Me: Hi baby!

Her: Hi baby!


She struts off with a big grin on her face while I sit there with my jaw on the floor.

But do you think I can get her to say Gramma?

Sour Grapes

Top of the mornin', everyone!

And as you might be thinking, hmmmm, Raging Mom is certainly up early for a Saturday, let me tell, I've been at work for an hour and a half already.

Yes, yes, here at Bedrock we apparently are neither patriotic or religious, because if there is one thin dime we can squeeze out of these rocks, we're going to be here.

And since Deathknyte has pointed out to me that my sarcasm meter is broke, THAT WAS SARCASM!! (sorry, dude!)

Ah well. What a terrible thing to be whining about, that you are making more money than you need to get by. It's just, DAMN, the boat is sitting at home, hooked up and ready to go, and I can't go outside and play!

So, the plan is to get out of here as soon as possible, gather up Old Sarge, the Toxic Twins and the Heiress and hit the river before it storms. Shish kabobs for supper, and free on Sunday. Yea!!

Have a great weekend, everyone, and Tammi if it gets TOO hot in the Belfrey, you got my number. I can tell you which dock to meet us on!