Tuesdays with Mom

Our day out to do our "ginnin'" use to be on Mondays..then it switched to Wednesdays and has lately morphed into  Tuesdays. (Well, it was Tuesday this week because mom had an appointment with her Lupus doctor and I must attend because I despise that place.)
The young man that she sees is wonderful..it is the absurdly rude signs that are hanging in the waiting area that infuriate me. One sign in particular informs the patients in the waiting room that they "are not to complain to each other about the wait time..if they have a problem then bring it to the office manager!!"  Exclamation points are thrown around with abandon on these signs. Let me just say this, and I will leave the medical office scene, No one can tell me what I can and cannot talk about because...this is America.
After dreaded appointment we head back down Rt.23 to Hobby Lobby...where we will grab a squeaky wheeled cart and buy nothing. Oh, we can "window shop" like nobody's business, we make future plans to save our money and buy things, yet we never do. I think we are always drawn there because of the amount of vehicles in the parking lot. We are just driving along, look up and see a multitude of colored metal and think "We must join this gathering! There are still parking spaces left; better grab one while we can!" 20 minutes later we leave empty handed and are faced with the never changing reality that pulling out of the parking lot is a 50/50 chance of survival. Especially if turning left to back track to Walmart. To the left is a dangerous little curve that makes my heart react the same way that it does during one of those movies where you don't know when the killer is going to jump out and scare the bejeebers out of you. You can't really blame the drivers coming around that curve, they have just gotten through one of the shortest turning lane lights that Kentucky has. I'm sure their adrenaline is still surging from having made it through the first time...as their maniacal smiling faces can atest.
We finally make it back to 23 and are headed up the hill to Walmart. Mom squints through the windsheild and says, "Is that Diane?!" For some reason, about 1/3 of the time we are in Greenup/Boyd Counties mom thinks that her sister Diane is directly in front of us at some point on the road.
I say "I don't know."
Mom.."I think it is."
Me.."I don't know"
Mom.."I think it's her."
Me.."Hmm..I don't know"
(We have now pulled into Walmart parking lot)
Woman in the car ahead turns so we get a profile view..
Mom.."That's not Diane! That woman has blonde hair...haha"
Me.."Is that the kind of car she drives? I don't even know what she drives."
Mom..."Oh, I don't know either, I just thought that looked like the back of Diane's head."
Yes, that is what she said.
Which is why I started laughing when I was walking through Walmart's parking lot later, I was reminded of another day that Mom and I saw Diane in front of us.

That morning we had twice been pushed off the road on Rt.2 by state truck workers, of course, we discussed this all the long way up Rt. 2, getting more and more put out about it.
We are heading up 23 right where the Industrial Parkway exit is, when we see police lights...as we get closer we realise that a state truck has had a minor accident...HA! That is what they get, driving like maniacs! Hahahaha we are laughing at someone's misfortune (which is wrong, very wrong) but once we started laughing it became even funnier.
I think this time it was me that looked up and said , "Is that Diane in front of us?" (At that time she drove a red car and we new what it looked like)
Mom agrees that is is Diane and suggests that she call her cell phone and tell her the funny story about our encounters with state trucks. Since apparently Diane has just witnessed the same accident ,she too ,will find the humor in our story.
So, mom calls her.
She tells Diane the whole story while I am laughing hysterically in the background. Mom is laughing so hard that she can barely get out the punch line about the fender bender. Oh we are funny! We are so clever and witty.
I hear mom start saying, "You know, the wreck you just passed back there, we are right behind you!'
...."On 23 we are right behind you!"..."How could you miss that wreck back there at the light??"
Then mom pauses....and finally says, "Diane?" Is this Diane?
Apparently it isn't because not only did the woman not witness the accident on 23, she doesn't even have a sister named Quack.
Hmmm....this is a tad embarrassing and a little more than funny.
Mom is apologizing and explaining that she meant to call her sister, and assured the woman that she sounds amazingly like her sister Diane.
I almost had to pull over from laughing after she finally hung up.
Walmart is always an adventure. One particular reason is because of mom's eyesight.
We will be trotting down the aisle and mom will suddenly sideswipe some poor shopper.
She always apologizes profusely and explains that she has lost most of her peripheral vision.
Then she turns to me and  says (everytime) "You have to watch me Shelley! I'm telling you that I can't see much in my peripheral vision, it's like I have those horse blinders on, I'll run in to people if you don't watch me."
It makes me want to come up from behind her when she is sitting and slowly move my head around from the back of her head, to see when she can see that I'm there. Actually, that would be enjoyable for the whole family to witness, I may try this next month when our family gets together:)) I will try to get a picture of me doing that and post it to this blog!

Going to Rajahs for Italian....*sigh*

We just wanted to meet Leigh Anna for lunch....for Sammi's 19th birthday...it should have been simple. 

Except I decided to take a shortcut. One that I have driven many times before...with ne'er a problem.  We were on Rt.23 and needed to get to the old Rajah's restaurant on Rt.60, where apparently a new Italian place had opened. No problem. 

Mom started the whole thing by confusing me. As we were coming out of Flatwoods, mom says "You know how to take that shortcut right?"

 I say, "I have no clue what you're talking about..it must have been dad."

Mom--"No it was you...I'm sure it was you..."

Me--"Mom, I would never try to take a shortcut out of Flatwoods, I would be wandering around here for days...Flat-Woods is the perfect name for it" (I know that doesn't make sense, but it is what I said)

Mom---"NOT in Flatwoods! You know, the shortcut you take behind the mall!"

Me---"Oh, yeah, of course I'm going that way..I'll cut over the hill here and past the Wal-mart, I wondered why you thought I could get out of Flatwoods and end up on 60"

......This little exchange should have been a clue to us that we should stay on the well known road....

 As I cut behind the Walmart on the hill (you all know which one I'm talking about) I confidently make a right...towards...you know...Rt. 60 is down that way somewhere.  As we near the apartments where Charles Manson once resided (it's true) I explain to mom that this is one of those short cuts that I can't think too much about as I'm driving it...or I will get confused...so, please don't talk about where I'm turning and stuff, ok? Seriously, mom, I will get confused. Mom interrupts me here to scream that she isn't the one bringing it up, I am.

Point taken. 

I shut up about it.

20 seconds later this is what mom says.

"Well foot. I caught a glimpse of my glasses and now all I'll see for the next hour is my glasses...I hate that! It's worse when you catch a glimpse of your nose..I hate seeing my nose for an hour...I better shut up or I'll start seeing my nose and my glasses..everybody hush about it!"

Sammi and I had not said a word during her spiel, we were too busy laughing.

I'm feeling pretty comfortable with my shortcut at this point because I see the railroad tracks where I must make the dangerous left hand turn....this is when Sammi see's the OCD Housecleaning sign which she and mom thinks is hilarious and clever.

I am coming upon Rose Hill School and feel a surge of panic. Do I turn left here or go straight?! Oh, crap. I'm thinking too much. There is a car behind me so I go straight. I don't say anything out loud..no sense in giving the passengers unnecessary worry...I keep going and realize the houses do not look familiar. I start getting that dizzy/twilight zone feeling that one gets when they are in unfamiliar territory. I just keep surging forward, filled with hope that some landmark will pop up.

The only thing that popped up was another set of railroad tracks. Hmmm... definitely not familiar. Now is the time to say something....

Me---"I think I may be turned around a little."

Sammi---"Arrghh"

Mom---"Turn into the BP Station and we will ask them which way to Rt. 60."

 I jerk the car into the station and mom says, "You go ask, you look younger."

What in the world does that have to do with anything??

I say that I don't want to go in and that we will just keep going straight...it has to take us to 60.

Mom and Sammi mumble something, but I ignore them...I am a woman on a mission.

I say, "I think maybe I should have turned left back there at Rose Hill."

By this point we have come upon a 4 way.

There is nothing more daunting than a 4 way when one is misplaced. 

We stay straight. Seems to have worked for us so far...hahahahaha

Now I'm starting to get that panic sweat...the kind that gets in that dip in your neck...I am burning slap up and am starting to be taunted by the passengers.

Mom and Sammi start putting their 2 cents worth in about the way they take the shortcut...(we found out later that we were discussing 3 different shortcuts but thought we were talking about the same one)

I am furiously looking at every business phone numbers posted on buildings...none of the 3 beginning digits look familiar...and they keep changing!

At one point mom thinks she may know where we are...then she see's a sign about Rt. 5. OH NO! I have heard of this "Rt. 5" if one finds themselves on Rt. 5 without proper directions one may as well be lost in Flatwoods..same scenario.

Mom has now taken to slapping her hands on the dashboard like a Jamaican drummer...and yelling turn around here! TURN HERE!! 

I start screaming that I can't turn in narrow driveways because it is against the law to back out onto a road. (Not sure if this is true, but...)

Sammi starts regretting her decision to accompany us and chimes in with mom about turning around. 

I instruct Sam to call Leigh Anna to tell her that we may be a tad late and find a place to turn around. 

Now, if one is lost, turning around and trying to make your way back to the place where you made your wrong turn is more confusing than getting lost in the first place.

We just need to find the BP station...if I can make it back to Rose Hill, then I can find my way to blessed blessed Rt.60.

We find the BP station...I'm a little unclear on what actually happened here...apparently I made the wrong turn AGAIN at this point.

BUT, it was a good wrong turn...we start seeing signs that say Summitt. Good. Summitt is right on 60! Oh my gosh, look! There is the prison! Crap, we have come to another 3 way. Do we go straight? Turn right toward the prison? Or left? A woman is staring at me so I go left. (I am often driven off course by other drivers either having the gall to drive behind me or to look at me)

Mom immediately bemoans the fact that I went left. Until she sees what she thinks is a school. She really does need new glasses, because I know times are bad but I don't know of any school that has rolled barb wire atop the fence around it. It is another portion of the prison. 

As we are making fun of mom about this, we see a stop light sign...joy of joys! 

A stop light means we are coming upon Rt. 60!

We came out right beside Crisps Ice Cream, to which Sammi says, "Oh, I've always wanted to eat here!"

 "NO!" we are going the Rajahs for Italian!!

We come to the stop light...mom ONCE AGAIN confuses me by saying ,"Shouldn't we turn left?" 

Well, now I have no confidence, so I think maybe she is right.

But, I'm not in the left lane, AND there is a truck behind me wanting to turn right...so I turn right, make a circle in the gas station parking lot (Sammi screams here, "LOOK, it's the Hulk Car!" ) Which is one of the stupidest things I have heard all day.

I get back to the light, directly behind the truck that was behind me before and make my left. As soon as I do mom realizes that she had in her head that we were going to JJ's to eat. Rajahs is indeed the other way. 

Arrggghh!!!

As I find a place to turn around Leigh Anna returns our call. We assure her that we are almost there, we got a mite lost, but give her our drink orders over the speaker phone. To which she became extremely confused but somehow got them right.

2 minutes later we pull in to Rajahs/Italian exactly one minute late. Sammi is now sick at her stomach and really doesn't feel like eating.

*sigh*

I'm telling you that I have driven that short cut many times...many times...I just don't understand what happened....
I have just been informed by mom that she appears to have been blamed for our getting off course today....I take full blame for missing my left hand turn by Rose Hill School...she did confuse me in Flatwoods ,but she states that I should have known that she meant the short cut behind the Mall. Well, I knew that by the end of the conversation...she is threatening to write a rebuttal.

Call the Fire Department!!!!!!!

We almost died. Yes We Did!.....I don't care what Casey says, I know we almost died. Which oddly enough makes for an awesome blog post. 
A few mornings ago I was washing laundry/dishes and such...as I walked into the kitchen, I smelled smoke..electrical smoke. I rush into the pantry area to turn off the washer and dryer (I immediately assumed that the dryer vent had become so clogged that the dryer finally retaliated.) Nope. Didn't appear to be the culprit. 
The smell is getting stronger so I do what is normal for me. I push canned goods out of the way with a sweep of my arm and start banging on the pantry wall (which is connected to our bedroom wall) and scream at Casey to come to the kitchen. 
By the time he has shuffled into the kitchen I have opened the basement door...to find that it is filled with smoke! So, I scream at him "The basement is on fire!" (He is 2 feet in front of me) To which Casey turns around and starts shuffling in the other direction...apparently one needs shoes to go into the basement area. As he is rummaging through his closet in the hallway, he is asking stupid questions like "Is there water in the basement?" What the crap?!  I answer sarcastically (to which he ignores, because he knows how I am when I'm scared) Then I start getting mad at him for taking so long...he has shoes on and appears to be selecting the perfect "our house is on fire t-shirt".  I yell something which makes him decide to go shirtless...but inquires about a flashlight.
I am now looking at him in disbelief....we are known for having a plethora of flashlights...none of which have working batteries. He knows this. Yet, it never stops him asking for one. 
Let the great flashlight hunt begin! I run to the living room, because in the recess of my mind, I remember seeing a little gray one sitting beside my baby picture. Aha! It is there! Oho...It is dead. I keep clicking to make sure...yep..still dead. Miracle of miracles, Casey hollers that he has found one that works...(I'm still holding the little gray one, and I'm pretty sure I put it right back where I found it...where it will sit until I need flashlight, to which I will grab it and click furiously...it's a vicious cycle)
Casey heads bravely down the basement stairs....I randomly shriek "Call the fire department!" 
He ignores me.
I decide it is time to evacuate. CJ isn't home, so I run to the girls' bedrooms...I bust through Sammi's door and tell her to get her stuff together because the basement is on fire. 
Sammi's immediate reaction?? She turns to me and screams, "Why?!!" 
I scream, "I don't know why Sam, it's just on fire!"
She screams,"What am I suppose to do with my cat?!"
I scream, "Take her with you!!" (I want to scream, Idiot, at the end of that sentence, but realized she was talking out of panic)
In the midst of this screaming match, Maggie slings her door open, turns pasty white and yells, "I'm scared!"
I instantly get angry. Yes, I know being scared is a normal reaction to a house fire...but Maggie yells this at least once a week. Every week. It's kind of losing it's flavor.  I tell her it's fine and just grab some stuff...
Now in the midst of all this I am occasionally sprinting to the kitchen to yell "Call 911" or "Call the Fire Department" into the smoke filled basement.
Casey never once responds.
He did take enough time to let me know that the water heater busted and the cords are melted together...he is going to turn the breaker off..
I'm still thinking that there are flames climbing the walls...and instruct him once again to call the fire department.
The electric goes off and the house goes deadly quiet.
Casey comes clomping up the steps and informs us that all is well. He has killed the water heater and must begin the search for a new one.
Sammi, Maggie and I all plop on the couch. We are exhausted. The past 10 minutes have been harrowing...we must start immediate therapy, which means we tell each other what we did during those scary moments.
Apparently, Sammi spent a good deal of the 10 minutes trying to shove her cat Amil into a blue duffel bag. Amil was not appreciative of this attempt to save her life. It is a lot harder to get a cat into a duffel bag than one would assume. I'm not sure what else she tried to save because we were hysterically laughing at this point.
Maggie had ran into the pantry and retrieved her teddy from the dryer, which she was still clutching tightly to her chest. She had also shoved a great many things into her purse...it was bulging. She confessed that she had thoughts about going back for her make-up bag. 
I had nothing. I had donned the first available jacket that I came across, but other than that, I was  empty handed. I realized that I hadn't even thought about grabbing pictures, or the hat box under my bed (filled with memories) I had just ran through the house screaming at people and clicking a dead flashlight. I was embarrassed to admit that one of the first things I thought was "NO, we just got  Dish TV working in everyone's rooms!" 
We may need to go over our "fire plan" again.  Somehow I always pictured  a fire happening in the middle of the night, which means we all climb out of our windows and meet at mom and dad's.
We never discussed what to do if we were wide awake...which apparently for this family is more dangerous than being dead asleep.

As we go our separate ways (into a now cold and quiet house) Sammi enters her bedroom and yells in frustration. I ask her what's wrong and she tells me that Amil is now sitting quite content inside the blue duffel bag that she fought so valiantly to avoid only moments before....*sigh* 


***I drew a horrible picture of Sammi trying to stuff Amil into the duffel bag...surprisingly, none of us took time to take an actual picture during the emergency.****

Mornin' Arlo!

Anyone that knows me, has heard stories about our dog Bana and our cats, Nikki, Stinky Butt Alex and Amil. Those are the indoor cats (well, not so much Stinky Butt anymore...He and Nikki are indoor/outdoor cats but Stinky Butt Alex has experienced some urination problems lately..sooooooo..)
My day typically begins by being awaken by Bana. Usually about 30 minutes before my alarm is set to go off. Once Bana sees that she has lured me out of my dream, by alternately barking then licking my eyebrow, the stop watch begins. I only have so much time  to stumble out of the bed, turn the existing alarm off, shuffle into the living room , get and attach her leash, slide my feet into whatever shoes happen to be beside the front door and if I'm lucky find a random jacket to don. If I don't get this done in a timely manner, Bana will squat and pee on the first available spot. In her defense, she does look apologetic...but doesn't take all the blame. It's like she is saying "We need to work on our routine".
 Most days we make it outside. As we exit through the front door, all urgency that Bana had to pee is instantly gone. Every morning the first thing she does is to run over to Max's doghouse on the porch. She pokes her nose inside and (from now on I will be making the animals talk, because it is what I hear in my head anyway) SO she pokes her head inside the doghouse, sniffs, wakes Max up then looks back at me and says, "He's here. Talking Yellow Cat is in there with him. Everything is fine, they should be out in a minute." I am then pulled off of the porch so Bana can find the perfect spot to pee and poo. Two different spots. It would be considered uncouth to use the same spot for both! Max has now stretched his 10 year old legs and joined us...he spends a few moments ruining every spot that Bana wants to pee on by moving directly to the spot that she is sniffing and hiking his leg. They do this EVERY morning. I encourage Bana to go pee pee; go poo poo...nicely at first...then with more urgency...eventually I have to holler at Max to stop following Bana around...pet Max, encourage Bana; ignore Talking Yellow Cat who is on the porch yelling "Food?! You'll be feeding me soon, right? I'm gonna go on around back...I'll meet you there...be on the back porch ledge as usual...Did you hear me?"  (Insert my first sigh of the day here)
Bana finally does her business so we head back to the house. Talking Yellow Cat has ran to the back porch  to inform the stray cats that breakfast will be served soon. Nikki has appeared and is waiting by the front door to be let in for the day. He is no nonsense and barely tolerates Bana. This doesn't stop Bana from bouncing around Nikki as I open the storm door barking "Mornin'! Can you believe it's dawn already? Whadja do last night?" (Usually at this point Nikki raises his paw in warning) Bana backs off with nonchalance..
As I open the front door, both Nikki and Bana push and shove to be the first through the door. Sometimes it gets more confusing because Alex is trying to make his way out of the door. Which always confuses me because he isn't allowed to spend the night inside of the house.We (everyone in the house) cannot figure out how he is getting in. No one admits to letting him in. We check windows to make sure he isn't slinking in through a 3 inch gap. He is just like Houdini. It's a little unsettling if I think about it too much...
So, Alex is slinking out whispering, "Don't look at me guys, no eye contact..stop sniffing me Bana! Great,now she see's me, thanks a lot loser." Alex out, Bana and Nikki in.
They both run straight into the kitchen, where Amil is waiting. She has heard the morning chaos and knows it's time for breakfast. Bana has her food bowl in the floor by the french door. I put the cat's food bowl on top of this desk-like piece of furniture in the kitchen so they can eat without Bana wolfing it down first.
I scoop a cup full of food and pour it into Bana's bowl...Nikki saunters over and starts eating delicate little feline bites. This pushes Bana over the edge. She stands beside Nikki and starts a barking frenzie, "Oh my gosh Nikki! You KNOW that is mine! It's mine! Mom...MOM! You're such a jerk Nikki...none of us like you...Arrrghhhh!!!"
By this time I have filled the cat bowl and Amil has jumped up to partake and enjoy the show below her. Now it is time for me to distract Bana...I do this by feeding the stray cats that are lined up outside the french door. This causes Bana to start her dance of delight. She LOVES to watch the stray cats eat.
I open the french door and the Tower of Babble begins. All of the stray cats start talking and running. Talking Yellow Cat is perched on the ledge beside the door. As I put my arm out to pour the food, he reaches out with his big fat paw and swipes at me...talking the whole time..."Took your sweet time gettin' back here didn't you tootse?" (I have never actually heard him say "tootse" but it sounds like something he would say)  Meanwhile Bana is screaming excitedly "Hey guys! Hey!! I would soooo come out and play with you all, but mom won't let me.."
Lately, something new has been happening during this ritual. Talking Yellow Cat's son, who my oldest named Arlo, has taken advantage of the chaos to slip inside while the other cat's are running around the porch. This is something new for Bana. She hops backwards and looks at me in disbelief. Her dreams have come true! She has an orphan to play with...
Nikki is ignoring Arlo, as he is just grateful that Bana has stopped screaming at him.
Amil is done nibbling and is sitting on the shelf above the cat food bowl.
I pick Arlo up and put him beside the food to which he attacks like he has never eaten (he does every morning, he just isn't use to having a bowl to himself)
Being Talking Yellow Cat's son, Arlo is very adept at talking and eating at the same time. Bana has jumped up onto the recliner behind Arlo and Amil is above him. Arlo takes a mouthful of food then starts regaling them with the life of a stray cat. They are enthralled. Amil has become hypnotized by Arlo's tail. She really really wants to touch that tail. Bana keeps jumping up and doing a quick sniff while Arlo's back is turned. Arlo takes a bite, says a word or two, then rubs his nose on Amil, then Bana. By this time Nikki has finished eating and is ignoring them all while bathing.

I was watching them this morning and decided to take a couple of shots with my phone camera for everyone to enjoy (and to prove that I wasn't making it up) By the time I put Arlo back out, my coffee has perked and Bana has perched on the back of the couch for a nap. Nikki is asleep on the living room recliner and Amil is running away from the fireplace (the fire kicked on as she was sitting on the hearth and scared the bejeebers out of her Bwahahahaha) Thus my day has begun....  ****The last pic is one of Nikki...this is his normal look of disdain***

Miniature Giraffes

Have you seen the commercial about the rich guy that owns a miniature giraffe? I loved this commercial; not for the product (of which I had no clue as to  what they were selling) but for the miniature giraffe that was briefly shown. I even dreamed one night that I owned one of these magnificent animals. My obsession is my defense for my gullibility.

I stumbled across a Russian website...the website was all about the breeding of these "petite lap" giraffes. The giraffe that had a cameo appearance  in the before mentioned commercial came from this farm! Her name is Ivanka. Oh the joy; the excitement! I, (if I had enough money) could own one of these awesome lap pets. Yes, one could sit with me on the couch, ON my lap, hence the name petite LAP giraffes. 

On the website, a live camera was set up so one could watch the petite giraffes in their environment,this proved that it was real! I saw one. Walking around and everything..( not much more than walking, but again, I was very excited.)

I hollered for Sammi to come join me in reading about these delightful animals. 

She immediately said..."Mom, that's not real"

To which I replied..."Yes it is! There is a camera, you can see them walking around!"

(insert snicker from snotty daughter)

She replied..."Your generation just doesn't understand how our generation can do things with computers" 

Me..."It gives the background on this Sammi...they have been bred in Russia for decades, apparently the great grandpa of the family actually performed with a circus, he stole one of the giraffes and ran away...the rest is history"

Sam..."Really mom?" (insert eye roll)
Me..."No listen! The males are called bulls and the females are cows."
Sam..."And that proves what?"
Me..."You just never want me to be happy."
Sam.."You will believe anything"
Me.."It says that they love taking bubble baths and listening to some kind of Russian opera"
Sam.."Oh my gosh, mom"
Me.."Well, I believe it...look how professional the website is!"
Sam..(silence, she has had enough of me)
Me.."OOh, look there's a button to inquire about buying them!"
Sam.."Ok, lets push it"...*she pushes the button*
A screen comes up that says something to the effect of "Congratulations you are the (insert randomly high number here) person to want a petite lap giraffe!"
Sam looks happily satisfied and I look crestfallen.
Stupid fake website. I was more upset that they weren't real than I was that I looked like a moron.

So, kudos to you Sokoblovsky Farm of Petite Lap Giraffes...you got me:)

If you can't take the heat....

We have 2 indoor cats and 1 indoor dog...My daughter, Sammi, has a female cat named Amil (shortened from the original name because too much time was spent saying "what is your cat's name again?")  The other indoor cat is male, so he has no part in this story..sorry Nikki:(  My dog, Bana, is also female.
A few months ago Bana went into heat for the first time. It was hard on all of us...namely me. I quickly discovered that I was going to have to put diapers on Bana if she continued to live inside with us...She was very confused and embarrassed by this, but as I explained to Bana, we women bear the weight of the world on our very narrow and sexy shoulders. She is no exception. She sniffed my breath when I finished my spiel, so I think she understood. So, on the diapers went. It was time consuming but we got through it.
Well...a few nights ago, out of the blue, Amil (the cat) started yowling. It sounded just like a baby screaming. It took us quite unaware and needless to say we were very concerned. What could be wrong with Amil? Is she angry at Sammi for being at work all day? Maybe she is being a rebellious teenage feline and wants to wander around outside? (Out of the question...she would either die of exposure or run straight to the AA Highway..she is not a "hardy" cat if you know what I mean)
This went on all night...I mean ALL night. Concern turned to annoyance...Sammi woke me up at 11:30pm yelling at Amil to hush. How did we finally figure out that Amil was in heat? When she started scooting on her front paws while sticking her rear end up in the air. She did this in addition to the yowling. Oh. My. Gosh.  This is more disturbing than having to put a diaper on Bana. Sammi was, rightly so, mortified. She would randomly yell, "Amil! Stop it. I did not raise you to be like that!"
Bana, meanwhile, became Amil's best friend..odd, because they normally despise each other. It seemed like Bana was trying to tell Amil that it was ok, that she, herself, had been through this and it would end soon. For some odd reason Bana was the only one in the house immune to Amil's yowls.
Night after night..4 or 5 nights (I lost count) we lost precious sleep. I felt bad for my kids as they left for school/work after a restless night probably filled with demon cat nightmares.
Daytime was also exhausting because we had to make sure Nikki didn't come running inside to sexually assault Amil. In short, our lives had been turned upside down for almost a week because a cat was in heat.

Last night, as I was lying in bed, I realized it was quiet...oh my, I think Amil is over her little spell. Relief washed over me...maybe we can all catch up on our sleep!
"Rustle, rustle, rustle...*sigh*" These sounds were made by Bana, who was on the bed with me...she had went into heat yesterday morning and was once again wearing a diaper. She looks pitiful and sighs a lot. **SIGH**  I shall be having all of the animals fixed before the next round of "heat" comes through....

Oohh Ooo oooh, Brown Eyed Girl...

I have 3 children...2 girls and a boy. CJ (my son) is the only one of the three to resemble me in any way. I can't really see it, but readily agree with anyone who states it. So, yesterday at the Chicken Coop, a lady (who apparently knew me when I was three) commented on how much my son looked like me. Her exact words were "He has your big brown eyes"....
Oh, those words...they bring back a very embarrassing memory from my childhood. And, what profit is an embarrassing memory if you can't share it with strangers? None. Thus, I shall share.
I am guessing I was about 10 or so...old enough to have lost my baby teeth, but young enough to not have  had  braces to fix my buck teeth. Now, I don't know if any of you are familiar with the Little House on the Prairie series (books or show) but I had labeled myself as Laura after reading the books. My sister was Mary. Her hair was thick and held any style; her teeth were straight....my hair was thin, stringy and had cowlicks all over (still is) and I had buck teeth. Needless to say, I did not have much self confidence at that point in my life....which would lead to my downfall.
Zoom back almost 30 years; I was getting ready to sit down after Sunday School class, a couple from church said hello to me and I replied. As I sat down on the red cloth covered pew directly in front of said couple, I heard the wife say to the husband , "Have you ever seen such big brown eyes?".
 Well,  I cannot explain the swelling of pride that arose in my 10 year old chest.  Suddenly I had something to be vain about! I had never heard anyone tell my older sister that SHE had big brown eyes..Ha! ( Now, maybe if someone had spent their whole life knowing that they were beautiful, they wouldn't have reacted the way that I did, but, alas, I turned into a creepy little girl with big eyes)
After that day, every time I sat in front of this particular couple and they would say "Hi Shelley", I would turn my cowlicked head around slowly, dramatically, and tilt it up toward them....as I did this, I would open my eyes as wide as I could (the better for them to see my "beautiful brown eyes) and reply "Hello" with a big buck toothed smile. I would even try to keep from blinking, as not to block my beautiful brown eyes for even a second. 
I can only imagine what I looked like. I keep seeing Gene Wilder as a ten year old girl. I never did this to anyone else...just this poor unfortunate couple...for YEARS.  I really should applaud their kindness, for the fact that my contorted facial expression didn't deter them from speaking to me at all. I remember doing this every Sunday that they spoke, then turning around in my pew waiting for them to comment on my beautiful big brown eyes...luckily for them and me, they never said it again. I can't imagine what I would have resorted to if I had been encouraged.  

Every time I think about "big eyeing" them for the first time I laugh and cringe simultaneously. What did they say to each other? They had to have discussed it on their way home from church..."What in the world is wrong with that kid?" or "Do you think it's something medical?"....I still go to the same church, and this couple is still there. Most of the time I sit in front of them with my family...not to long ago I decided to turn around and ask them if they remember me "big eyeing" them for years. The laughed and said no. I think they are lying. Either way, it gave me the first real confidence of my pre-teen life and another blog post:)))

Self Hypnosis...Hmmm...

Thanks to Pixel of Ink, I found a free book for my Kindle yesterday. The subject? Self Hypnosis. Who in their right mind could pass up that offer?!  The first few chapters introduce me to the truths and myths of hypnosis...it's all about getting to the subconscious level of your mind, to change certain behaviors. No crazy hocus pocus and such, which made me trust this author....so after being assured that you can get yourself into an "awake hypnotized" state by reading the passage aloud; then jumping to the section of what you want changed about yourself, then waking yourself up, I decided to try it...if nothing else it would make an awesome blog.
I am suppose to be in a comfortable chair, with low lights and relaxing music playing in the background. I plop myself down into the recliner in the kitchen corner and turn the TV in the living room to 40's music. Of course my dog, Bana follows me. Fine. I let her jump onto the chair with me rather than risk her interrupting my meditative state. We are both settled in, so I turn to the section that I am suppose to read aloud to gain access to my subconscious.  Here is how it goes: (Regular type is what I was reading aloud, italics  are what I was thinking)
 "Feeling a sense of privacy and comfort, I allow the sound of my own voice to soothe..."
(my voice sounds like a man...it's isn't soothing at all...I wish I had a more feminine voice)
..."My mind is becoming clear like a mountain lake"
(why do they always think that mountain lakes are calming? I hate mosquitoes.)
...."I imagine that I'm sitting on a comfortable chair on a beautiful beach"
(i've always had to sit on a towel at the beach...ok, pretend that I'm sitting in this recliner on the beach...that's good..)
..."I hear the waves crashing on the shore"
(that's what's on my sound machine at night when I go to sleep! Maybe I should be doing this in the bedroom where I can listen to the waves...but I don't have a chair back there...I'll stay in here..)
.."The golden rays of the sun is warming my scalp.."
(the last time I was at the beach, I got horribly sunburned....like I am right now...I only stayed 15 minutes, why the crap did I burn? Maybe I have Lupus like mom...I mean seriously, it's been almost a week and I'm peeling! It's disgusting...I wonder if Casey felt the skin coming off of my back when we went to sleep last  night...the girl that runs the tanning bed is so sweet though...I even bought a t-shirt from her place...hey! I'm wearing it right now...odd...)
...."The healing light softens my throat so the words flow out easily, effortlessly.."
(I cannot say the word effortlessly...he shouldn't put hard to say words in this part of the book if we have to read it out loud..)
..."A golden radiance floods my solar plexus"
(solar plexus....that's my stomach area I think...)
..."I mentally scan my pelvis and buttocks"
(*snort* I had to say buttocks out loud...how does he do this to an audience...I bet he says it really fast like "buttucks" instead of "but-tocks"...hmmm..I am feeling more relaxed...maybe I'm just sleepy)
..."Even my feet and toes feel warm..."
(Amil is scratching the leather couch again...arrgghh...we can't afford to repair a couch..Casey is not going to be happy when he sees that..")
..."inward toward the center of my mind..."
(I wish I could close my eyes and read at the same time...stinky butt Alex is getting ready to jump up on the table...I can't yell at him because I'm relaxing...he will wake up Bana and I'll have to listen to her toenails clatter on the floor...stupid animals..)
.."I'm walking toward a tall modern building and go through the revolving doors..."
(I hate revolving doors...you have to time it just right to get in AND to get out..there is always people staring at me when I go through those things...that one in Louisville was terrifying...)
..."Inside the building stands a strong, armed security guard..."
(well that's no good, all I can see is Casey now...did I tell him I was going to try this today?..can't remember...I wonder if I embarrass him sometimes?...)
..."I see myself in the reflection of the elevators.."
(good lord that's not relaxing..I look like a man right now...stupid haircut...with my hair and my voice I'm the alpha male...I wonder if I can hypnotize my body into growing my hair back quicker..and curly!...curls would help hid the cowlicks..get in the elevator shelley..)
..."I push floor 10 and the elevator starts to go down  starting with floor 1..."
(that's a little confusing...you would think if the elevator were going down, it would start at 10 and go down...)
..."When I get to floor ten I will be hypnotized..."
(oh, I get it now...so I'm almost done? Hmm....meh..stray cats are using my french door for a scratching post..what am I going to do with them? dog pound won't come get them...i can't afford to have them all fixed...there are too many of them...ellen degeneres loves animals..she can't judge me, she has money to take care of strays, I don't..I wonder if she would take them? no...she would film it and I would have to try to clean up the back porch.....i really don't know what to do with them...why is it always up to me?...)
..."Ten, I enter a room with a fireplace..."
(what? I thought I  was done at ten...i do like this room though..this is relaxing...)
..."You are now hypnotized with your eyes open..."
(well, that's a let down...)


So anyway, I then turn to the section about being stress free..read the whole thing, count to five and am Awake, Awake, Awake! Hmmmm....ok. I come in here to blog about it..the muscle in my neck draws up on me...I clinch my fist and count to 3 slowly while releasing...just like the stress free section told me to do...it's scary to say, but it worked. The muscle relaxed. I don't know what to say about this...maybe this book did do something? I'm not sure, but I got another blog post done:))

U-Haul, I Haul, We all Love to U-Haul!

It's 6am on a cold and icy morning...I stumble through the yard sans moonlight and become entangled in the dead tree branches (that have been lying there for months). All I can think is if I would fall and be impaled by one of those stupid branches and die; I will kill Casey. Finally make it to the truck, slip on the icy running board and turn the ignition so it will be nicely heated when we swing down to mom and dad's to pick them up. Where are we going so early WITH a U-Haul attached to the hitch you ask? Onward to Columbus, town of the craft shows...where spring crafts await us. Luckily, this was just yesterday, so I can remember enough details to make a blog post out of the trip:)

We pulled into mom and dad's driveway, where I promptly jump out to warn them of the icy conditions. (Casey sits in the truck and wolfes down a PB & J sandwich) I carefully trot up to the porch, yelling to "stand still, there is ice!" Dad relays this to mom (who is standing right beside of him) and she in turn relays it to me just in case I wasn't aware of the danger. Mom and dad both have armloads of blankets, pillows and a travel mug of coffee. We spend the next 2 minutes passing off the items to each other in an attempt to have one person with open arms to catch the other two when they inevitably fall. Somehow we end up with mom and me (yes, it is suppose to be "me" and not "I" in this case) holding the blankets and such while dad has his coffee. We make our way to the truck, still reminding each other of the dangers of the frozen water. Casey is chewing his sandwich and watching from the truck interior. Now it is time for me to start hollering about the frozen running boards, which causes mom to start hollering this to dad, who gives us a look like "I'm not stupid" and we all gather into the truck. (Which thanks to me is toasty warm) And we're off!!  

Thank goodness for the digital temperature read out on the dash of the truck. This keeps us entertained for the entire trip...it is 35degrees as we pull onto the AA...no wait! Now it is 34degrees, we discuss how the idling truck may affect the temp., etc. etc...Mom and I spout out helpful tips to Casey about bridges freezing before roadways and if he watches the cars in front of him he may be informed of ice before HE gets to it. I'm certain he was very appreciative of these warnings as it is always helpful for the passengers to play an active role in the driving.
We make our way down Rt.23 and stop at our usual McDonalds...I'm not going to say why this particular McDonald's is memorable...but it is because of Mom's past actions...in the bathroom...involving her interest in whether or not a particular stall was empty. It wasn't. We grab our breakfast which entails 2 hashbrowns for me, cinammon bites for mom (plus an orange juice that she admits she will regret later) and Dad's usual hot chocolate... (Casey ate something but for the life of me I can't remember) we're back on the road. Drinks are offered and shared...namely by mom and dad. Casey and I don't usually share much food and/or drink. My parents eat like birds and are always thrilled with Casey's ability to eat so much. Mom thoughtfully leaves a couple of bites of her cinnamom bites to offer to Casey. He says at that moment he doesn't want them, so they are put away for later. I decline the offer of hot chocolate and decide that I am now exhausted and must sleep. I keep mom busy with my Kindle (hahahaa just kidding mom) and went to sleep. I was half awaken at some point later to hear Casey ask, "Is Shelley asleep?" and Mom answering "Yes" eveyone laughing and Casey saying "Good"...wasn't sure what was going on at the time but I went back to sleep. I found out later that they had come upon a particular part of the road that was completely covered in ice, and decided that it would be better if they left me to sleep. I'm a little put out by this because I am pretty darn good in a crisis. Yes I am. Shut up.  ANYWAY, when I woke up, I was (as usual after a nap) Starving. And wanting something sweet. I enquire about the cinnamon bites. A short silence, then Casey admits that he had eaten them. Great. I ask hopefully about the hot chocolate...another spot of silence, then mom mumbles that she drank it. Then they all start laughing. Apparently no one can take a nap around these people without being put in dangerous situations while they eat all edible objects, leaving one hungry and irritable  when one awakens. Something to remember.
We have made it to Columbus. After a short lived, one sided argument with the guy working in the parking lot (we decided later that he was right and were glad that we didn't actually say anything to him) we made our way through the dirty, slushy parking lot into the building. Now we have to be scanned with these little cards we have around our necks. Mom has spent the last 10 minutes telling us all over and over to make sure we have the card turned to the correct side....she knows the security lady at this show takes her job very seriously. We walk thorugh the front doors, the security nazi (oh I mean lady) meets us with her little scanner...(I think she likes to pretend that it is a stun gun) she goes to scan mom's card but stops and tells mom that it is turned to the wrong card. hahHAHAHAHA!!! Mom was the only one with her card on backwards...makes me so very happy which is why I included it in this story. (Drink the last of the hot chocolate, will you?)
Well, we spend the nextd 5 1/2 hours in and out of this building...Casey more so than us because he is doing most of the carrying out to the U-Haul. He had another unpleasant experience with Security Lady and was not a happy camper by the time the day was over. My last trip to the U-Haul I decided to let Casey help mom with the last load while I sit in the truck with dad. This is always enjoyable because we can make up a story to go with each and every person that walks or drives past us. We spend a little while doing this, I feel some shaking going on behind me near the U-Haul area...I assume that Case and mom are back....after a few more minutes they never come to the truck. I ask dad if he had felt the truck moving, he doesn't recall, but agrees that maybe I should check that no one was cleaning out the things we just bought while he and I were sitting right in the truck. That would have been embarrassing. Dad said that our excuse could have been that it was too cold to get out and check. Everything was fine, not sure why the U-Haul had been shaking around, but we hadn't been robbed.
So we leave to come home. Everyone is exhausted and hungry. Mom starts hinting around about stopping somewhere to eat, some place that she could get some good iced tea. (She means Ponderosa in Circleville) Instead it is decided that we will get something through a drive thru so we can get home quicker. Which brings us to the story that is told on every trip to Columbus. The story of mom getting a hamburger at a Dairy Queen on Rt.23 and how the pickle was STEAMING on the hamburger. She was so hungry. She was so looking forward to this hamburger. It was a terrible snowstorm so they went through the drivethru. She didn't discover the steaming pickle until they had pulled back onto the road, or she would have made dad turn around and take it back. She is still mind-boggled and angry that they re-heated the whole hamburger in the microwave! She still tells the story with the same vehemence that she did the day it actually happened...about 4 or 5 years ago. Dad and Casey always take turns on the trips to Columbus to ask mom if she wants to stop at Dairy Queen, then we get to hear the story in full while Dad and Casey laugh hysterically. This subject is brought up at least 5 different times on every trip. I'm not joking.
Anyway, we decide to stop at Wendy's. Because of the U-Haul Casey drives through to the back parking lot....then decides it will be funny to make the truck and trailer spin on the ice. It's not funny. (Every since Leigh Anna and I tried to do doughnuts on the snow in Farmer's parking lot in highschool AND almost hit a light pole, I do not enjoy sliding on ice) Casey does this just to hear me scream and because he and Dad laugh like they are 17. Idiots. I don't just scream nonsense, I like to scream out the obvious. Or what I think is the obvious thing to happen in this situation,which is to scream that the U-Haul is going to tip over. To which Dad and Casey start laughing loudly and Dad says something like "I can't believe you just said that" even mom chimes in on how silly it was of me to think that a U-Haul could tip over by sliding on ice. I'm still sticking with the probability being high. We finally park, really far away from the door. As we go to get out, we hear a huge bang, we whipped our heads around to see Casey falling (for the second time) onto the ground. Apparently the whole parking lot was an ice rink. Dad almost fell. We ask Case if he is ok, then I start begging that we go to McDonalds across the road, because I assume that their parking lot will be cleared off. As I am making my plea, I look up and Dad is gone. Dear Lord (I think) he has fallen! I start hollering "Where's Dad?!" Then I look and he is shuffling across the icy parking lot (Looking just like Tim Conway on The Carol Burnett Show when he played the old guy) Well great. I guess he has decided that we aren't going to McDonalds. The rest of us get out and start shuffling our way across the lot, the whole time I am saying "I'm scared" over and over. Everyone seems put out with me. Somehow I shuffle past mom and make it to the side walk. Casey is beside me, Dad ahead. Mom gripes that everyone is leaving her behind and I inform her that I cannot come back and help her, as I don't do that. I am almost to safety and I'm very scared, sooo.....(I leave that word hanging)  Meanwhile Casey has went back to help her so he gets the good citizenship award....but I don't care because I have made it safely inside and am starving. We get our food, get back on the road, mom  saves part of her sandwich for Casey ; who then feels obligated to eat it even though he is full. Finally make it home, empty the U-Haul , realize that I forgot to have Casey pack some things that we bought, which means we left about $300 worth of merchandise in Columbus. (I'm mortified about this one) I go to  house and make stewed potatoes and chocolate chip cookies (doesn't make sense to me either) and praise God that we made it home in one piece. Another trip to Columbus is over!

Two Madams in Maine

Well, we did it. Two Kentucky girls  who have only flown once in their lives (Beck's about 10 yrs. ago and mine  23 yrs.) flew to Boston Logan International Airport alone! Then drove on to Maine!

    Following the unfortunate death of my Betta fish Gabriel (R.I.P.) I rallied forth and got up at 4:30am on the 27th of October. Got the kids distributed and took off for Columbus Airport with Casey and Becky. (Before the rumor gets started, NO he did not drive the cruiser and use County gas) We had our trusty Tom-Tom, who had been switched to an English Accent  for optimum pleasure of passengers. *side note, the gentleman with the English accent tends to not sigh and get testy like the woman with the American accent does,  if one gets off course**   

     Flash forward...we are in the lobby of Delta at Columbus Airport,  Casey must not go beyond this point. He turns to kiss me, I give a quick kiss and hug and never look back...times like this, if one of us is leaving, I pretend that he doesn't exist. Not sure why I do this, but it gets me through goodbyes without tears...almost 17 years and he still looks a little confused by it, even though he knows that it's going to happen..

     Becky and I have made it through security with minimal loss of clothing or dignity. Only shoes and jackets were removed and I was informed that although the Gallon size bag of hair products was only filled 1/4 of the way, that the next time I flew, make sure to put it in a Quart size bag. Duly noted. And we shuffle on...until....hark! What do we see, but an old man in shining plastic!! He is driving one of the carts, and asks us if we need a ride to our gate. Yes! We do! I'm on the back, Beck right in front of me. The man takes off, and, I kid you not, he starts driving so fast through the airport that our hair is flying back like a shampoo commercial. I'm trying so hard not to laugh hysterically because this man doesn't seem happy with his job...he pulls up to our gate. Only 5 or 6 people are sitting in the area, and all eyes turn to us as we thank him and struggle to gather our bags/purses. It was almost like we came screaming up the hallway

"WE'RE HERE!!!".

     Flash forward to boarding. This is the point that we realize that no-one on this trip is going to like Becky. No one. Until the very end. Everyone smiles at me...no one will smile at Becky. The stupid woman at the gate tells us that we have to check our bags because the overhead compartments are very small. That's fine, everyone else is having to also. She starts saying what cannot be in your bag that goes underneath one of the planes. Lithium batteris is one of them...Beck has one of these batteries in her luggage. She repeats these instructions to the lady to make sure that she means to not put it underneath the plane instead of in the cabn of the plane. The lady repeats what she said rather slowly...like Becky was stupid...then she turns and looks at me (not knowing that Beck and I were together) and starts to give me an eye roll...Oh no. No ma'am. I give her a good ole' mom Kentucky stare and she stops mid eye roll. I will take her down. I'm hopped up on a Peppermint Mocha from McDonalds *highly recommended* and have enough energy to do a flying drop kick. So you, woman who worked the gate desk for  Delta flight from Columbus to Boston at 10:43am on October 27th...Get a grip, you are NOT the Dame of Delta; Princess of Planes; or Aristocrat of the Airline...you are a boarding pass taker. Yep. 

     The last time I see Beck for a while was when we entered the plane itself. (It's a commuter plane and very teeny tiny. Only 18 rows...of course Becky is in the 18th row and the put me up front in row 4...arrgghh) We part ways and I sit down next to my "seat buddy". His name is Bob. Bob is from New Hampshire. Bob grew up in Boston. Bob is flying on business and makes this trip all the time. Bob is trying to get back home in time to take his girlfriend's little girl to dance class. Bob finds out I'm from Kentucky. Bob thinks I don't know what Bath and Body Works is. I show Bob that I do by telling him about the awesome plug in scents that I bought just last week. Bob is impressed. Bob gives me his business card so that I can call hiim if Becky and I get lost in New England. Bob will come find us. Bob looks a lot like John Candy. Bob is very sweet, but very tiring. 

     The Steward (who looks like he is an extra in a movie about an airplane steward) comes by and offers Bob and me some refreshment. I'm a little hesitant, until Bob asks for a Coke and some cookies. I order some coffee and some cookies. He hands me the coffee and I suddenly feel safer. I rationalize that the airline would not serve me some coffee if the plane was going to go down because that would make a mess. Hot coffee everywhere and what-not. So, I relax and enjoy my graham cookie and my coffee. Listening to Bob all the while. I pick up one wafer and snap it in half...and watch in horror as a large crumb chunk flies across the aisle and lands in the guy's Bloody Mary. He doesn't see it. Bob does. I cut my eyes over to Bob and he laughs. Bob's kinda growing on me:)

     As soon as Bob and I finish our refreshment, he asks the Steward if he can move into the empty seat in front of us (seat belt sign is off) so that I can go fetch Becky to come sit with me. (I'm worried about her, not sure how she did with the take off) So Bob moves up and I start trotting down the aisle. After a few pardon me's and ducking into empty seat so the Steward can get around me, I make it to the back of the plane. Becky is looking at her phone and her seat partner who is wearing a very stuffy looking tweed sports coat (we dubbed him "Mr. Tweed) are not speaking. Apparently, Mr. Tweed has not said one word to Becky. No one likes Beck:(   I get to her seat, Becky looks up at me and gets this really weird look on her face. I say,"Get your stuff and come on" she looks panicked and says "Why?"  (Mr. Tweed looks irritated that someone is speaking in his vicinity) I say, "You can come and sit with me now"...Becky smiles and vacates her awesome seat beside Mr. Tweed....I find out later why Becky had that really weird look on her face when I first got back there. She told me that she had been sitting there waiting for a terriost to stand up and stare at her, she said when she looked up and I was there, that her first thought was "Shelley is the Terriost???" Really. She was being serious. I think she was a little more nervous than I realized...So anyway, she moves up front with me...Bob turns around in his seat, rests his chubby little chin on his hands and proceeds to tell Becky everything that he has told me...which is fine, because now my ears are completely clogged and I cannot hear anything. 

     We land. We are in Boston!!! We get our bags, find the phone to have Hertz come get us to pick up our car, run into Bob in the lobby who proceeds to scream "My friends from Kentucky!", leave the lobby, discuss how Bob is a little scary now and how I shouldn't have told him where we were staying, get on the Hertz bus and find our car.

     Our car. Oh, how I miss her.  She was very tiny. She was an odd color, "the better to find her!", I declared. At some point we name her Miss Cinnamon Chip. Cinnamon Chip seemed to have a mild case of asthma. *I didn't say this to Becky, but I think it is her fault that poor Cinnamon's asthma flared up, what with the Toll Booth incident and all, within 5 minutes of driving her* Oh the toll booth. Going into the tunnel to start on our way to Maine. Becky was driving. At first Beck pulled up into the lane for "all cars", but being adled from the flight she got confused when she saw the car beside us go into the Easy Pass Lane. Becky promptly turned into that lane instead. Then she said "Oh, snap" I kept quiet because I was still in my "Zen"state from the flight. Becky tries to put it in reverse, but alas, the woman behind us cannot back up, because there is someone behind her. Becky then gives Cinnamon an asthma attack by cutting the wheel really sharp thereby cutting off a black car, a van and last but not least, a taxi, as she slides into the correct Toll Lane. The guy in the booth is staring at us in awe (I like to think because we succesfully cut off a taxi, I don't think anyone else has done that). Becky rolls down the window, hands him a dollar and says "I don't know what I'm doing" with a big Becky smile. All the guy says is "Where you all from?" I holler Kentucky and say "Is this the right way to Maine?" He assures us it is and looks a little too relieved that we are leaving Massachusetts in my opinion.

     WE are on the road people! Cinnamon is over her scare, although the asthma flares up if you hit the gas too hard, but that's ok, we love her! We drive until we get to Portsmouth New Hampshire. We find an Applebee's (I know, I know, we can eat there at home, BUT we were hungry and like Leigh Anna said "It's good to go to a familiar place at first until you get settled") We took our leftovers with us and proceeded on to Portland Maine and our nice little hotel on Sable Drive.  We get in the room about 4 or so and never leave the rest of the night. Re-heated our food later that evening and did nothing else but watch food network and plan our day in North Portland, which was centered around where to eat. That's all we talked about was food. We have both gained a few pounds...we drove around and ate. We watched food network at night and ate. It was very nice:))

     I actually drove. Those of you who know me well, know that I don't like to drive if there is someone else willing. Becky made me drive. Becky made me do illegal U-Turns. *Pic of a No U-Turn sign will be posted* Becky made me drive into a dead end street where the fishermen loaded up trucks. Becky would not turn us around like I asked, but made me do it. We drove all over downtown Portland. It was beautiful! We did take turns driving and by the time we were driving back to Boston I was flying down I-95 singing Jack and Diane at the top of my lungs! We were awesome. We were finally adults. Proud, that's what we were.

    We eat at Gilbert's Chowder House, I order a bread bowl of chowder and it was delicious!!! After lunch we take off to find a beach. Finally find route 1 and follow this beautiful little road to a state park....where Becky's proceeds to steal rocks off of the beach, which I'm sure was strictly prohibited. I had no idea that she was doing it, she said she didn't want to tell me because she knew that I would totally cave and throw her under the bus if we were asked about it. Really Beck? You and Amy know that I do not throw my friends under the bus! Never. Unless it requires that I lie. Then I may. Anyway, we have rocks. Ok, and we totally hid 2 of the magazines that the plane had because there were things that we wanted to order, maybe, at some point, THEN found that the outside of the magazine said "Go ahead and take it, we will replace it!" So that one doesn't really count.

     I forgot where I was. Oh, on the way back from the beach we stopped at an amazing old church with a stone wall and an old cemetary. Beck pulled over next to the stone wall and took some very funny pictures of me throwing leaves into the air like a Maine Advertisement. (They too will be posted, in succesion like a flip book because she held the button down and shows each move, it's hysterical)

   We pretty much did everything we wanted to do in Maine by 3pm. No kidding. At this point we find out that an early Nor'ester is headed towards us. Becky immediately starts blaming me because I made an innocent comment about hoping to see some snowflakes mixed in with the fall leaves. I can't get her calmed down because everyone keeps posting about it on Facebook! People! I was half afraid to sleep that night because of what Beck might do to me! I did call Delta to see about flying out Saturday morning instead of Sunday, but it was going to cost us $150/piece PLUS we would have to buy a new ticket, because ours wasn't exchangeable. Oh Snap as Beck would say.

    I forgot about Ron! Becky LOVED Ron! Ron was kind of afraid of Becky. (I wonder if Ron overheard Becky say that she wanted to take him home on the plane and that he would probably fit in the overhead compartment. Ron was a very tiny Japanese man) Ron was our waiter at "Something" Lobster House (Pic to follow)  Ron suggested what Becky should eat, it was amazing, and he was the first person to be nice to Becky, so she gets too attached/nice to Ron and scared him away. But, not before I asked Ron to pose for a picture with Becky!! *This is actually what pushed Ron over the edge. He seemed EXTREMELY hesitant to have his picture taken with Becky, but like a good waiter, did so in the end. He was so hesitant about it, that Becky and I discussed it and decided not to post the picture of Ron. We ran through many scenerios of why Ron would be afraid of the camera. Maybe the resturant didn't allow it? Maybe his religion didn't allow it? Maybe he was married? (Beck checked later, no ring) OR maybe Ron was not a legal citizen? Standing away from the situation now, I think Ron was just terrified of us. Namely Becky. 

    So, we can't get an early flight out. We are both getting homesick. We check out the next morning, head back to North Portland to stop at Becky's Diner to get t-shirts and coffee cups ,then start driving back to Boston. I must say, I was driving until New Hampshire and went through 2 toll booths, both people were very congenial to me. When Becky took over driving, the last 2 people were very grouchy. Just an observation not a judgement:))  

   We make it safely through to the airport (Got turned around a couple of times, I was forced to do another illegal U-turn, gassed up the car, went to the Hilton to rent a room, Becky FINALLY met someone that liked her (the porter) and drove back to Hertz to drop Miss Cinnamon Chip off. Fare thee well Miss Chip. I hope whomever rents you next, loves you as much as Becky and I do. 

   The hotel comes and picks us up, we get in our room, the TV doesn't work, they send a guy to fix it, we are so very homesick that we can't hardly talk. We are watching and waiting for the dreaded snow to start. We are told by many locals that it would take a foot of snow to shut the airport down. We are not comforted. BUT after the longest night of our life (AND the worst pizza in the world!!) We leave the hotel at 7am and take a shuttle to the airport! 

    I did leave out the woman from Switzerland who borrowed by phone outside the hotel, in the rain, while we were smoking. Her flight to Newark, NJ had been cancelled, her family was still in NJ and her husband was presumably still at the airport waiting for her. Her phone was dead because 'our country's" outlet didnt' match her cord. I felt so bad for her:( I made her use my cell to call her daughter and proceeded to hear her say almost every cuss word I have ever heard. It was very awkward.

    Back to departure. Scanned our boarding pass, got our tickets, was told our bags had to be checked, even though they weren't on the flight over. Tried to pay with credit card, machine wouldn't work. Hollered at Becky who was in line to check our bags. She takes her shoe off and gets enough cash to cover the $50.00, realize I have to be in line with Becky ( I am told later that when she stopped to get the money out of her shoe that some smart alec man hollered at her from the back of the line, would have given me pleasure at that point to have heard him so I could have given some awesome smart retort back at him) ANYWAY, we give the lady our ID"s and the 3/$20's to pay for the baggage and she tells us that she has no change. REALLY? But, she can take the credit card. So she does, and she is actually nice to Becky so I like her. We go get in line for security. Take our shoes off, coats, empty pockets (as the man hollers several time,"check your pockets and check them again!") , go through the body scan (I resist the urge to jiggle my boobies) and make it to our gate. We finally get on the plane. We are sitting together, our plane waiting in line on the runway. I have Becky's camera and the man in front of us is trying to sleep. But I desperately want to take pics of the ocean right next to us. So, I click real quick like and put the camera down , we move a little up and I see something else to capture...so I pick it up and click real quick like again and put the camera down. I do this a lot and am pleased to say that the man doesn't say a word to me about the clicking in this ear when he is trying to sleep:))

    So, we take off, yada yada yada, are served our snack, I share my theory with Becky about the safety of a plane once snack is served, she thinks I'm stupid, take a few more pics in the man's ear and land safely in Columbus where our knights in a white car are waiting for us.  

   It was the end of a perfect trip. We had a blast and a lifetime of memories..

The Mouse

(As adapted from my journal on 1.12.2012 Location: work)

I am currently being held hostage by a 2" mouse. Needless to say, I am very embarrassed by this, but there it is. No one is here to help me. I cannot prop my feet up on the shelf provided  because, alas, this is where my enemy is camped.  I now have to sit sideways with my feet braced upon the filing cabinet.
  A few minutes ago, a customer asked me for assistance.As I helped her and was walking away, I inquired if she was afraid of mice. She immediately responded with a firm No. Well, this was wonderful! I explained to her that I was a mite timid of rodents and since she wasn't, would she be willing to help me capture my little tormentor? She did a full body shudder and told me to hit it over the head with something. I hope she was properly ashamed of being caught in such a blatant lie. I really wanted to smack her over the head with something, but seeing how she was the customer and all....I resisted.
Plan B. I let Nikki inside. He is an indoor/outdoor cat and likes to follow me to work, where he becomes the annoying door greeter. He welcomes the customers, then slips in behind them. I am constantly putting him back outside. Not today my friend! Today is his chance to be something more than a fur ball hacker! Think of the glory, the envy of the stray cats...all he has to do is catch the mouse! With my heart racing, I push Nikki under the counter within 4 inches of the mouse (who is STILL sitting on top of the power bar) I step back, eyes big, breathing shallow but fast...I don't want to see the carnage, yet, I cannot look away....the mouse is unaware of danger because he is sitting with his back to us.( Oh, I know it's unsportsman like, but any mouse worth his salt would KNOW there is a cat right behind! )  Little background on Nikki. He is a very athletic feline. I have seen him rush across the yard, leap into the air and capture a bird. Yes, out of mid-flight. He has brought many a headless ground mole to my front steps. He is the alpha hunter. I have no doubts that he will end this dilemma quickly, almost painlessly. I watch in horror as he....turns his back to the mouse and sits down. They are sitting back to back. Mere inches between them. Both appear to be asleep. Okay. Obviously he didn't see the mouse. I lean forward, pick him up and face him towards the mouse. I try to sit him back down on the shelf with encouraging words of triumph, which apparently weren't appreciated as he turned around and bit me before running off. Disgusted with his lack of enthusiasm for his first job; I put him back outside.
Well, there is no choice. I must sit here until mom returns. Dad would be no help. He saw the brother/sister mouse in the trash can yesterday and swore it had fangs. Extraordinarily long fangs. So I spend the next 2 hours with tingling legs and a numb butt. Mom finally appears and gets right down to business. She puts her hand inside one of our "thank you" bags and reaches down to pick up the mouse. (He hasn't moved) Problem is, he is so tiny that he slips right out of her plastic coated hand. NOW he moves. I make some primal noises while running backwards...mom is telling me how silly I'm being while sticking her head into the darkness under the counter to find the mouse. She has lost him! Nooooo!!! I can't sit here without knowing where he will pop up! She starts pulling boxes and boxes of papers out to see where he went...all I have to do is hold a black trash bag open while she throws old papers away. Which I do, until I look down and see the stupid thing in one of the boxes that she has already gone through. I start hyper-ventilating and screeching while pointing towards the box. Mom calmly takes her BARE hand and picks the mouse up by his tail. The mouse is squealing, I am squealing, and mom is rolling her eyes while she carries it outside.

I'm feeling pretty stupid now. The threat is over and I start to wonder why I was so scared of something so small....they aren't even scary looking per se...I just don't care for the way they can scurry around so quickly...they are very good hiders too...I'm not real big on anything that can hide out under a scrap piece of paper. Anyway, all's well that ends well...so I was thinking. Until, 4:40pm, 20 minutes before closing, when out of the corner of my left eye, what do I see? I big fat gray MOM mouse scurrying out from under the counter, looking for her son!