Hey there.
Yeah, it has been awhile, hasn't it?
I've been kinda busy hunkering down for the winter so I've been neglecting my blogging duties.
Well...that's part of it.
The other part is...ugh, so many other parts.
Here's a haiku!
Going back to school
Buying more goats, and winter
Keep me from my blog
There. I couldn't find any other way to express it. I find the haiku to be remarkably versatile in daily application of expressing one's thoughts. For instance:
You waste all my time
You will never buy a house
You are an asshole
See, that would apply to my real estate job.
Anyway, back to the first haiku.
So, I am now in the throes of taking classes for my broker and appraiser licenses. That takes up a lot of my time and brain cells. So much so that after class I can barely remember my name sometimes. It's not that the material is especially difficult, it's more that we cover SO MUCH in a day.
The buying goats part. Well, yes, we bought two more goats. So now we have four. The other two are Boer goats which are meat goats. They are both girls and about 6 months old. They look like little tanks. The people we bought them from are into the goat thing big-time and registered our girls with the names Red Hot Oh and Fun With Iron. Yes, I know...it should be Fun With Stainless. Be that as it may, we have decided we would just nickname them with more...girly...names. So now they are Opal and Iris. I think the original names have something to do with keeping part of the dad's name in the name of all his progeny.
I don't have any pictures to upload yet and, since it's dark, you'll just have to wait for another post. Because if I don't finish this post tonight, who knows when I'll write another one.
On to winter.
Oh, winter.
Winter, winter, winter.
It will be here before you know it.
I have been slowly making my way around the house, closing storm windows, making note of which windows need storm windows, cleaning leaves from gutters, etc. It never ever ends.
Take, for instance, the windows. I decided the other day to address the storm window issue for our living room. The living room has three window configured kind of like this \_/. Each window had it's own storm window however the one like this \ had a wooden one that completely rotted away. And the ones like this _ and this / had aluminum ones that were so racked from that part of the house settling that they had big gaping areas.
I went into the basement to see if there were any more of the wood storm windows and I managed to find two that fit. This is remarkable when you stop to consider that almost no two windows in our house are the same size and who knows which of the 80 - yes, that's an 8 in the tens column and a 0 in the ones column and I crap you not when I tell you that is the actual window count for our house - windows in our house any given storm window is going to fit.
So, of course these windows are all covered with dirt and spiders so they have to be cleaned before I put them on. The other thing about these windows are that they are something like 7 feet tall so, you know, they weigh a ton. And a half. A ton and a half.
I had to hoist these bad boys up a set of stairs and around to the back side of the house where the hose is. Since they are at least ten kinds of huge and cumbersome, they would throw me off balance and I had to do the "drunk man walk". You know, bobbing and weaving, with a huge GLASS window.
It was very dangerous and exciting.
So two of the three living room windows are done. I think I am just going to put one of the aluminum storms on the remaining window. We'll see.
I was pretty excited about winter this year which, if you know the house I live in, you know is odd because who would get excited about spending winter in a house with next to no heat? Right?
Well, that was all going to change this year.
For the past, oh I don't know, 8 or so years my darling hubby has been researching outdoor woodburners. When I say research You have no idea. It's not just a matter of picking up the pamphlet from the dealer, ask a few questions and then order the model of your chioce. No, no. This involves YEARS of tedious study on things like carbon vs. stainless steel (stainless, by the way, always wins), burning vs. gassification, water jacket vs. storage tank and my personal favorite, ability to burn biodiesel or waste oil as a backup.
People, you have no idea what it is like to live with this man.
(But I LOVE you hon!)
Anyway, when we finally were almost settled on a particular model, when we were so close I could almost feel my toes again, my hubby has decided We Can Build A Better Burner.
Sigh.
And, you know, I'm sure he can. But, be that as it may, it's starting to get COLD again.
Sigh.
This is what happens when you marry into an engineering family.
So now that we have located the necessary 2 or 3 or whatever thousand gallon stainless steel tank to start the project, things are starting to get underway. But this is such a HUGE project that I don't anticipate being able to scoot around my house in a t-shirt and shorts until sometime next July.
And here would be a good spot to stop and remind everyone that Christmas is only 51 days away and long underwear make a very good gift. hint, hint
And to top all of this off, our battening of the hatches has been further derailed by yet another side project. It's...
...nah, I'm not going to tell yet.
Some of you already know so don't spoil the surprise. But, for those of you who don't...
STAY TUNED TO ALMOST QUINTESSENCE FOR SOMETHING VERY EXCITING!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Yet Another Sad Post
It seems as though the news is nothing but bad these days - particularly in PA. Today, while noodling around the internet news sites, I had my Windows Media Player set to cruise through the music in my "library". I wasn't really paying attention to the music until I suddenly realized what was playing in the background while reading one particular story. The following is an excerpt from that article along with the lyrics of the song.
Two Sago Mine Workers Commit Suicide
Flyin' Shoes - Townes Van Zandt
(AP) Two miners whose jobs included watching for safety hazards inside the Sago Mine before the deadly explosion last January committed suicide in the past month.
Neither man had been blamed for the disaster that killed 12 of their comrades, and neither one's family has definitively linked the suicides to the accident. But those who knew the men say there is little doubt the tragedy haunted them.
Days full of rain
skys comin' down again
I get so tired
of these same old blues
same old song
Baby, it won't be long
'fore I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
"I'm not sure anybody ever gets over it," said Vickie Boni, the ex-wife of one of them. "You live with it every day."
Both men were working at the Sago Mine on the day of the blast and had been questioned by investigators along with dozens of other witnesses. One former co-worker said at least one of the men felt investigators were treating him as if he had done something wrong.
John Nelson Boni, whose job that day was to maintain water pumps, shot himself Saturday at his home in Volga, State Police said.
Spring only sighed
summer had to be satisfied
fall is a feelin' that I just can't lose.
I'd like to stay
maybe watch a winter day
turn the green water
to white and blue
flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
William Lee “Flea” Chisolm, the 47-year-old dispatcher responsible for monitoring carbon monoxide alarms and communicating with crews underground that morning, shot himself at his Belington home Aug. 29, authorities said Tuesday.
The mountain moon
forever sets too soon
bein' alone is all the hills can do
alone and then
her silver sails again
and they will follow
in their flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
they will follow in their
flyin' shoes
Boni's ex-wife said he had never discussed the accident with her, but “I'm sure it had weighed on his mind.” Vickie Boni, who divorced Boni 15 years ago but saw him when he picked up their daughter for visits, said her own father died in a coal mine accident when she was a teenager. “It's something you never get over,” she said.
Chisolm's brother had visited just before the suicide. As he prepared to leave, Chisolm called out “and more or less said, ‘I'll be seeing you,’” the sheriff said.
Days full of rain
skys comin' down again
I get so tired
of the same old blues
same old song
Baby, it won't be long
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
Two Sago Mine Workers Commit Suicide
Flyin' Shoes - Townes Van Zandt
(AP) Two miners whose jobs included watching for safety hazards inside the Sago Mine before the deadly explosion last January committed suicide in the past month.
Neither man had been blamed for the disaster that killed 12 of their comrades, and neither one's family has definitively linked the suicides to the accident. But those who knew the men say there is little doubt the tragedy haunted them.
Days full of rain
skys comin' down again
I get so tired
of these same old blues
same old song
Baby, it won't be long
'fore I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
"I'm not sure anybody ever gets over it," said Vickie Boni, the ex-wife of one of them. "You live with it every day."
Both men were working at the Sago Mine on the day of the blast and had been questioned by investigators along with dozens of other witnesses. One former co-worker said at least one of the men felt investigators were treating him as if he had done something wrong.
John Nelson Boni, whose job that day was to maintain water pumps, shot himself Saturday at his home in Volga, State Police said.
Spring only sighed
summer had to be satisfied
fall is a feelin' that I just can't lose.
I'd like to stay
maybe watch a winter day
turn the green water
to white and blue
flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
William Lee “Flea” Chisolm, the 47-year-old dispatcher responsible for monitoring carbon monoxide alarms and communicating with crews underground that morning, shot himself at his Belington home Aug. 29, authorities said Tuesday.
The mountain moon
forever sets too soon
bein' alone is all the hills can do
alone and then
her silver sails again
and they will follow
in their flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
they will follow in their
flyin' shoes
Boni's ex-wife said he had never discussed the accident with her, but “I'm sure it had weighed on his mind.” Vickie Boni, who divorced Boni 15 years ago but saw him when he picked up their daughter for visits, said her own father died in a coal mine accident when she was a teenager. “It's something you never get over,” she said.
Chisolm's brother had visited just before the suicide. As he prepared to leave, Chisolm called out “and more or less said, ‘I'll be seeing you,’” the sheriff said.
Days full of rain
skys comin' down again
I get so tired
of the same old blues
same old song
Baby, it won't be long
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
flyin' shoes
till I be tyin' on
my flyin' shoes
Thursday, September 21, 2006
This will very likely earn me a one way ticket to Hell...
...but I have to ask it.
What if?
Just what if there was a...
...mistake?
A mistake in the translation?
What if the crowd didn't say "Crucify him!" at all?
What if they said...
...crucifer?
I know, I know. I'm going to Hell.
What if?
Just what if there was a...
...mistake?
A mistake in the translation?
What if the crowd didn't say "Crucify him!" at all?
What if they said...
...crucifer?
I know, I know. I'm going to Hell.
Friday, September 15, 2006
There's More Than One Way to Skin A Cat
At least that's what they say.
Fourtunately for me, I have never had to test that theory as the method I use has always worked well for me.
Kidding. I'm kidding.
Not funny? Well, let's move on then.
Anyway, the reason I start off with that age old axiom is that I am guessing the saying has it's roots somewhere in reality - most likely Asian cuisine. (Ah, young Grasshoppah...you must first know the mind of the feline.)
Which gives me reason to hope. For if there is more than one way to skin a cat, it stands to reason that there must also be more than one way to shear a goat.
Because if the way I used is the only way...well...
...anyone want to buy an angora goat?
No?
Ok, fine.
So, you might ask, "What is the method you used?"
Well, I guess technically speaking, it's called the Figure 4 Leg Lock.
(I would be the one in yellow.)
So, on one of the past bright suuny days - you know, the one where you might have been having a picnic or enjoying a nice hike in the woods or something - I was splayed out on a tarp with a black kid goat and a pair of scissors.
Yes, I said scissors.
Why didn't I use electric shears? Oh, like the ones they use at the county fair during the sheep shearing demonstration?
That's easy. $300.
Any other smart-aleky questions?
Three hours, if you must know.
Yes, it was woman against goat, on the mat for three hours straight. On the bright side, there were only three pooping incidents. I will not divulge the score on that.
Ahem.
In the end, it all turned out fine. The goat - by the way, her name is Rhubarb - was happy to be rid of her dense coat. I was happy to have a nice, black kid mohair fleece which, I am told, is highly prized by handspinners. And my chiropractor is very happy as I will be putting her child through college this year.
See? Everyone is happy.
So then what?
Well, according to internet sources (translated: because I have no idea what I am doing ), the next thing is to try to rid the fleece of vegetation. You know, stick, leaves, trees... So I spent the next 6 years picking through the fleece.
Let me pause here for a bit of advice to prospective goat owners. Clearing brush = meat goats. Mowing lawn = fleece goats.
moving right along...
After the fleece has been cleaned of vegetative matter (fiber craft lingo), you can either wash it yourself or bring it to a mill where they will wash and then process it to whatever state you wish. Not state as in New Jersey or Schuylkill County. State as in roving, batts, or yarn - all lingo of the fiber craft which I am still kind of learning so I will not try to explain here.
I am still trying to find a mill in the general area (northeast US) that will take a small quantity. As it turns out, people actually do this for a living and tend to have many, many pounds of fiber to process. Who would have guessed? They must be the people who buy the electric shears. Or slaves. Or 4H kids.
Note to self: stop at the feedstore and ask where I can buy some 4H kids.
In the mean time, I decided I would try to wash a little bit myself and see what happened. The first thing you have to do is soak it in hot water for 30-60 minutes. Goats have a greasy coat and the first step is to release most of the grease.
Boy, did it ever. I had no idea how greasy it was.
Next, you start the soaking/washing process. You basically just let it sit in hot water with mild detergent for awhile, squeeze it out and then do it again. The internet sources all caution against agitating the fleece in the water OTHERWISE YOU WILL HAVE FELT!!!!!!!
Hello? What? Felt?
Like from grade school?
What?
I still have no idea. Fortunately, I don't think I felted my fleece.
For a felted fleece forbids fortune from finicky fabric fanciers.
hee, hee, hee
Then you have to move somewhere where there is sun for at least two days in a row, like Arizona. Or, if you can't move out of Pennsylvania, take a screen out of your window, spread the fleece on it and rig it up over a dehumidifier. For 6 more years.
When it is was all done, I had a pile of black mohair that - and I'm not bragging here or anything - is some of the silkiest stuff I've ever felt.
Didn't felt.
I didn't felt it!
I've ever touched.
Man, you really have to watch what you say when you are a fiber producer.
And that, folks, is what I am. I am now a fiber producer. Because we are now on our way on to becoming a legitimate farm. I know - one goat, big deal - but if I may end this with another tidbit of ancient wisdom...
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
--Confucius
Tru dat!
Fourtunately for me, I have never had to test that theory as the method I use has always worked well for me.
Kidding. I'm kidding.
Not funny? Well, let's move on then.
Anyway, the reason I start off with that age old axiom is that I am guessing the saying has it's roots somewhere in reality - most likely Asian cuisine. (Ah, young Grasshoppah...you must first know the mind of the feline.)
Which gives me reason to hope. For if there is more than one way to skin a cat, it stands to reason that there must also be more than one way to shear a goat.
Because if the way I used is the only way...well...
...anyone want to buy an angora goat?
No?
Ok, fine.
So, you might ask, "What is the method you used?"
Well, I guess technically speaking, it's called the Figure 4 Leg Lock.
(I would be the one in yellow.)
So, on one of the past bright suuny days - you know, the one where you might have been having a picnic or enjoying a nice hike in the woods or something - I was splayed out on a tarp with a black kid goat and a pair of scissors.
Yes, I said scissors.
Why didn't I use electric shears? Oh, like the ones they use at the county fair during the sheep shearing demonstration?
That's easy. $300.
Any other smart-aleky questions?
Three hours, if you must know.
Yes, it was woman against goat, on the mat for three hours straight. On the bright side, there were only three pooping incidents. I will not divulge the score on that.
Ahem.
In the end, it all turned out fine. The goat - by the way, her name is Rhubarb - was happy to be rid of her dense coat. I was happy to have a nice, black kid mohair fleece which, I am told, is highly prized by handspinners. And my chiropractor is very happy as I will be putting her child through college this year.
See? Everyone is happy.
So then what?
Well, according to internet sources (translated: because I have no idea what I am doing ), the next thing is to try to rid the fleece of vegetation. You know, stick, leaves, trees... So I spent the next 6 years picking through the fleece.
Let me pause here for a bit of advice to prospective goat owners. Clearing brush = meat goats. Mowing lawn = fleece goats.
moving right along...
After the fleece has been cleaned of vegetative matter (fiber craft lingo), you can either wash it yourself or bring it to a mill where they will wash and then process it to whatever state you wish. Not state as in New Jersey or Schuylkill County. State as in roving, batts, or yarn - all lingo of the fiber craft which I am still kind of learning so I will not try to explain here.
I am still trying to find a mill in the general area (northeast US) that will take a small quantity. As it turns out, people actually do this for a living and tend to have many, many pounds of fiber to process. Who would have guessed? They must be the people who buy the electric shears. Or slaves. Or 4H kids.
Note to self: stop at the feedstore and ask where I can buy some 4H kids.
In the mean time, I decided I would try to wash a little bit myself and see what happened. The first thing you have to do is soak it in hot water for 30-60 minutes. Goats have a greasy coat and the first step is to release most of the grease.
Boy, did it ever. I had no idea how greasy it was.
Next, you start the soaking/washing process. You basically just let it sit in hot water with mild detergent for awhile, squeeze it out and then do it again. The internet sources all caution against agitating the fleece in the water OTHERWISE YOU WILL HAVE FELT!!!!!!!
Hello? What? Felt?
Like from grade school?
What?
I still have no idea. Fortunately, I don't think I felted my fleece.
For a felted fleece forbids fortune from finicky fabric fanciers.
hee, hee, hee
Then you have to move somewhere where there is sun for at least two days in a row, like Arizona. Or, if you can't move out of Pennsylvania, take a screen out of your window, spread the fleece on it and rig it up over a dehumidifier. For 6 more years.
When it is was all done, I had a pile of black mohair that - and I'm not bragging here or anything - is some of the silkiest stuff I've ever felt.
Didn't felt.
I didn't felt it!
I've ever touched.
Man, you really have to watch what you say when you are a fiber producer.
And that, folks, is what I am. I am now a fiber producer. Because we are now on our way on to becoming a legitimate farm. I know - one goat, big deal - but if I may end this with another tidbit of ancient wisdom...
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
--Confucius
Tru dat!
Friday, August 25, 2006
My Sci-Fi Kind of Life
Hi there everyone. I figured it's about time for an update.
It was turning out to be a boring summer - I didn't think I would have anything exciting to post about. Well, at least not personally. There has been all kinds of excitement for my sister and my cousins. Lots of excitement there.
But, you know, you can only get so much enjoyment experiencing excitement vicariously. Not that I need to experience the joys of a newborn in a
first-hand-it's-all-mine-to-take-home-and-feed kind of way. That is a joy that I, at this point in my life, am willing to enjoy from afar.
But still...
Nothing was really happening. Oh, I know, we finished the chicken tractor and...well, I'll just save that for another post.
Other than that, nothing really.
Nothing until...that fateful day.
Now, I am only recounting this episode here for purposes of providing you with an interesting post to read. If you have already heard about it, on the news say, you can just go ahead and skip it. I know the coverage was pretty extensive, what with me being a hero, or heroine, and all.
It all started one morning at work when we were pondering that most perplexing of real estate dilemmas: What are we going to eat for lunch? As always, it was a tough decision considering the vast array of culinary delights available in our small coal region town. Why there's hoagies (subs or grinders for those of you who don't speak Coal), Burger King, pizza, Chinese food and...and...um... did I say pizza yet? Well, ok then, I guess I've covered it.
Then we remembered that there is a new restaurant in the train station that our local movers and shakers lovingly restored. Like a real restaurant. With sandwiches made of stuff other than lunch meat. Real swank like that.
So we called and had a menu faxed (We love technology!) and placed our orders. Usually we have someone drive and another person ride shotgun to do the actual getting of the food. Mainly because parking can often be an issue. However, as fate would have it this particular day, I was the only one able to go at the prescribed time. Also, the train station has its own parking lot so, no big deal.
Now, because of the odd layout of the streets in this particular little town, I had to go up one certain street, cut through the parking lot of a shopping area and then head back in the direction from which I came in order to get to the station lot.
Just about one block before I had to turn into the parking lot, I noticed some people running toward me. Well, not really toward me - more like away from something that was located in the direction that I was currently heading. Then there were more people - really frightened looking people - and some were screaming.
Spurred on by curiosity, bravery and the thought of a hot turkey sandwich with swiss cheese grilled on homemade Italian bread, I continued on into the parking lot. I passed by the Rite-Aid and the Family Dollar and then, out of the corner of my eye, my right eye to be exact, I saw it. On the roof of the liquor store. It was gigantic. People were franticly running away, tripping and falling over themselves, desperate to get out of the area.
"I have to do something!" I thought. So, I pulled the car over and took a picture. Be prepared, you have never seen anything like this.
Then I continued on to the restaurant. I parked my car and started to walk in thinking, "Boy, that was a really big bug and I can't wait to eat that sandwich!"
Then, all of a sudden, like a big surpise, the bug leaped from the Wine and Spirits store onto the roof of the station! I ran back to my car to grab my camera and get another picture because no one will ever believe this - that's a really far jump! Even for a big bug like that.
I mean that was across a parking lot, a road, another parking lot and a set of railroad tracks. It's far!
Then, the people in the restautrant started coming out to see what the big Bang! on the roof was all about. When they noticed the creature, they all started screaming and running away. That commotion made the restaurant workers come out to investigate and, they too, became afraid and started to run. It was then that I realized "If there is no one in the restaurant, I'm not going to be able to pick up lunch!"
I managed to catch the arm of a waiter running by.
"Hey, I have to pick up my lucnh order."
"What?!! Don't you see that..."
"Katydid"
"...that thing..."
"It's a katydid."
"Yeah, well, whatever. It's on the roof of the restaurant and you're outta your mind if you think I'm going back in there!"
"But what about my lunch order? We watied 20 minutes..."
"Forget it, lady!"
I knew I was going to have to do something. Something. But what?
I turned to the waiter and said "Wait here." And then I said "Heh, that's kind of funny, isn't it? You - a waiter - wait here. You know wait. Like on tables and stuff. But that's not what I mean."
The waiter said " ."
"Ok, just don't go anywhere."
With nothing but the thought of a grilled turkey sandwich driving me, I crossed the railroad tracks and climbed up on to the roof of the train station. I could hear people saying "Look! Look at that woman! She's a freaking nut!"
I got onto the roof and the giant katydid turned to me. I slowly approached and tried to make polite conversation.
"Click, click," I said.
The katydid said "Click."
I sat down next to the katydid. "Click. Click, click, click."
Tha katydid replied. "Click, click. Click."
We went on, clicking back and forth for a while, until I found out that the katydid was hoping to find it's way out of town and head south. After some more clicking, I explained that the katydid was in luck because the road right in front of the station was a major north/south corridor for the area. All it needed to do was catch a ride out of town. The katydid, understandably, was concerned that no one would want to give a giant katydid a ride. I offered to go back down to the roadway and see if I could negotiate safe passage out of town. The katydid was thrilled with this idea and graciously said "Click."
I climbed back down the building and headed back over to the road, passing the slack jawed waiter on the way. "Don't you go anywhere" I said. He replied "uuuuhhhhh..."
I stood along the road waiting for an appropriate sized vehicle to come along. Forutnately, it didn't take too long for the ideal ride. A large truck was heading toward the scene and I stepped out into the lane and flagged it down. After a brief explanation of the situation, the driver was more than happy to assist.
I walked back to the parking lot for the station and called up to the katydid, "Click! Click, click, click. Click, click!"
The katydid turned and gracefully hopped from the roof of the train station on to the top of the trailer. It waved its antennae and said "Click, click!"
I turned and headed back into the station, amidst cheers and applause, and picked up the lunch order.
Needless to say, I have received a key to the town and they named a holiday after me. I've had numerous requests for appearances on talk shows and I have already been approached by Spielberg to sell my story for a major Hollywood block buster.
However, I have decided to turn it all down. I'm no hero, or heroine. I just tried to arrange a ride out of town for a giant katydid.
Anyone would have done the same.
It was turning out to be a boring summer - I didn't think I would have anything exciting to post about. Well, at least not personally. There has been all kinds of excitement for my sister and my cousins. Lots of excitement there.
But, you know, you can only get so much enjoyment experiencing excitement vicariously. Not that I need to experience the joys of a newborn in a
first-hand-it's-all-mine-to-take-home-and-feed kind of way. That is a joy that I, at this point in my life, am willing to enjoy from afar.
But still...
Nothing was really happening. Oh, I know, we finished the chicken tractor and...well, I'll just save that for another post.
Other than that, nothing really.
Nothing until...that fateful day.
Now, I am only recounting this episode here for purposes of providing you with an interesting post to read. If you have already heard about it, on the news say, you can just go ahead and skip it. I know the coverage was pretty extensive, what with me being a hero, or heroine, and all.
It all started one morning at work when we were pondering that most perplexing of real estate dilemmas: What are we going to eat for lunch? As always, it was a tough decision considering the vast array of culinary delights available in our small coal region town. Why there's hoagies (subs or grinders for those of you who don't speak Coal), Burger King, pizza, Chinese food and...and...um... did I say pizza yet? Well, ok then, I guess I've covered it.
Then we remembered that there is a new restaurant in the train station that our local movers and shakers lovingly restored. Like a real restaurant. With sandwiches made of stuff other than lunch meat. Real swank like that.
So we called and had a menu faxed (We love technology!) and placed our orders. Usually we have someone drive and another person ride shotgun to do the actual getting of the food. Mainly because parking can often be an issue. However, as fate would have it this particular day, I was the only one able to go at the prescribed time. Also, the train station has its own parking lot so, no big deal.
Now, because of the odd layout of the streets in this particular little town, I had to go up one certain street, cut through the parking lot of a shopping area and then head back in the direction from which I came in order to get to the station lot.
Just about one block before I had to turn into the parking lot, I noticed some people running toward me. Well, not really toward me - more like away from something that was located in the direction that I was currently heading. Then there were more people - really frightened looking people - and some were screaming.
Spurred on by curiosity, bravery and the thought of a hot turkey sandwich with swiss cheese grilled on homemade Italian bread, I continued on into the parking lot. I passed by the Rite-Aid and the Family Dollar and then, out of the corner of my eye, my right eye to be exact, I saw it. On the roof of the liquor store. It was gigantic. People were franticly running away, tripping and falling over themselves, desperate to get out of the area.
"I have to do something!" I thought. So, I pulled the car over and took a picture. Be prepared, you have never seen anything like this.
Then I continued on to the restaurant. I parked my car and started to walk in thinking, "Boy, that was a really big bug and I can't wait to eat that sandwich!"
Then, all of a sudden, like a big surpise, the bug leaped from the Wine and Spirits store onto the roof of the station! I ran back to my car to grab my camera and get another picture because no one will ever believe this - that's a really far jump! Even for a big bug like that.
I mean that was across a parking lot, a road, another parking lot and a set of railroad tracks. It's far!
Then, the people in the restautrant started coming out to see what the big Bang! on the roof was all about. When they noticed the creature, they all started screaming and running away. That commotion made the restaurant workers come out to investigate and, they too, became afraid and started to run. It was then that I realized "If there is no one in the restaurant, I'm not going to be able to pick up lunch!"
I managed to catch the arm of a waiter running by.
"Hey, I have to pick up my lucnh order."
"What?!! Don't you see that..."
"Katydid"
"...that thing..."
"It's a katydid."
"Yeah, well, whatever. It's on the roof of the restaurant and you're outta your mind if you think I'm going back in there!"
"But what about my lunch order? We watied 20 minutes..."
"Forget it, lady!"
I knew I was going to have to do something. Something. But what?
I turned to the waiter and said "Wait here." And then I said "Heh, that's kind of funny, isn't it? You - a waiter - wait here. You know wait. Like on tables and stuff. But that's not what I mean."
The waiter said " ."
"Ok, just don't go anywhere."
With nothing but the thought of a grilled turkey sandwich driving me, I crossed the railroad tracks and climbed up on to the roof of the train station. I could hear people saying "Look! Look at that woman! She's a freaking nut!"
I got onto the roof and the giant katydid turned to me. I slowly approached and tried to make polite conversation.
"Click, click," I said.
The katydid said "Click."
I sat down next to the katydid. "Click. Click, click, click."
Tha katydid replied. "Click, click. Click."
We went on, clicking back and forth for a while, until I found out that the katydid was hoping to find it's way out of town and head south. After some more clicking, I explained that the katydid was in luck because the road right in front of the station was a major north/south corridor for the area. All it needed to do was catch a ride out of town. The katydid, understandably, was concerned that no one would want to give a giant katydid a ride. I offered to go back down to the roadway and see if I could negotiate safe passage out of town. The katydid was thrilled with this idea and graciously said "Click."
I climbed back down the building and headed back over to the road, passing the slack jawed waiter on the way. "Don't you go anywhere" I said. He replied "uuuuhhhhh..."
I stood along the road waiting for an appropriate sized vehicle to come along. Forutnately, it didn't take too long for the ideal ride. A large truck was heading toward the scene and I stepped out into the lane and flagged it down. After a brief explanation of the situation, the driver was more than happy to assist.
I walked back to the parking lot for the station and called up to the katydid, "Click! Click, click, click. Click, click!"
The katydid turned and gracefully hopped from the roof of the train station on to the top of the trailer. It waved its antennae and said "Click, click!"
I turned and headed back into the station, amidst cheers and applause, and picked up the lunch order.
Needless to say, I have received a key to the town and they named a holiday after me. I've had numerous requests for appearances on talk shows and I have already been approached by Spielberg to sell my story for a major Hollywood block buster.
However, I have decided to turn it all down. I'm no hero, or heroine. I just tried to arrange a ride out of town for a giant katydid.
Anyone would have done the same.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I'm An Aunt! Again!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
"Papers, please!"
Hi there.
I hope everyone is having a nice summer. You know, lots of nice trips and exciting things and such.
Things have settled down on the farm a bit since the wind turbine episode. For the most part, the summer has been pretty smooth sailing.
We did a short trip to New York. It was mainly for son to check out a college. Gah! College! Already!
We set up home base at my mom's cabin on Lake Ontario and did a day trip up to the college which is about 30 miles from the Canadian border. Waaaay up there. It seemed like a nice campus and a nice little town. We didn't get to tour buildings or anything - this was mainly a "Let's just check it out" kind of trip. We'll probably go back for one of the open house days in the fall.
And then since we were so close to the border, and since dear hubby has never been out of the country, he got it in that cute head of his to go to Canada. You know, just for kicks.
So off we go to Canada. At the border they stop you and ask to see your driver's license and please remove your sunglasses and do you have any alcohol or tobacco to declare. To which my hubby opened the glove compartment and took out a small bottle of Jameson and said "Just this. My wife keeps it in her purse." Which was true, it had been in my purse. First I was a bit mortified but then I turned to hubby and said "Just why, exactly, is it now not in my purse?" And it went like this...
Hubby: I took it out.
Me: What were you doing in my purse anyway?
Hubby: I had to get some money.
Me: So why is it in the glove compartment?
Hubby: Because I didn't think you really needed to carry it around with you...
Me: Well I do.
All the while this exchange was going on, the Canadian border patrol guy just kind of watched with an amuzed expression. I guess the cars may have startred to pile up behind us because he finally interrupted.
Me: And why wouldn't I need a bottle of Jameson in my purse?
Hubby: Well I just...
Canadian Border Guy: Ahem. Folks?
Us: Wha....?
Canadian Border Guy: So, uh, where are you headed in Canada?
Me: We don't know. My husband has never been out of the country so we decided to come to Canada.
Canadian Border Guy:...
Me: You know, just so he can finally say he's been out of the country and all.
Canadian Border Guy: Um...how long are you staying?
Hubby: Just a couple of minutes. We just want to drive across the bridge and then come back.
Me: No, we are not just driving across and coming back. We had to pay a darn toll! We're going to find something to do and then go back. (to Canadian Border Guy) What is there to do in Canada for an hour or so?
Canadian Border Guy (looking very amuzed by this point): Well, you can drive along Route 2. That's a nice drive. It will take you to the bridge where you can cross back over to Alexandria Bay.
Me: Oh that sounds nice. What is there to do along the way?
Finally he directed us to an information center where we got some maps and directions to some historic sites. Shortly after, hubby started drinking the Jameson.
While in Canada, we went to a big old mill-turned-lighthouse where there were some battles. From there, we went to Fort Wellington - another place where there were some battles. Then we got ice cream and slowly made our way to the next bridge back to the U.S. At the duty free shop, we stopped and got hubby a beaded hippie necklace as a souvenir.
The funny thing is that it's pretty easy to get into Canada when you don't really plan on going. The even funnier thing is that it's not too easy to get back into the U.S.
Scene: U.S. customs toll booth kind of thing. Ms. Quintessence in driver's seat looking at very stern U.S. Border Guy.
Me: Hi.
U.S. Border Guy: Citizenship?
Me: United States.
U.S. Border Guy: I need to see identification of all people in the car and take off your sunglasses.
Me: Oh, ok. (removes sunglasses and proceeds to dazzle U.S. Border Guy with baby blues...or not) Here, here are our licenses.
U.S.B.G.: Who is that in the back?
Me: That's our son.
U.S.B.G.: Proof of citizenship?
Me: What?
U.S.B.G.: Your proof of citizenship. I need to see passports, birth certificates or some other documentation.
Me: Uh oh...
U.S.B.G. (really not amuzed now): You don't have proof of citizenship?
Me: Um, no. We didn't know we needed that.
U.S.B.G.: It was passed into law. Everyone is required to have it.
Me: Is that something they mentioned on TV? Because we don't have TV. We didn't here anything about it.
U.S.B.G.: You are now required to provide proof of citizenship upon return to the United States.
Me: I see. We don't have any.
U.S.B.G.: You have nothing.
Me: No, no I don't think we do.
U.S.B.G.: How long were you in Canada?
Me: Oh...(looking at clock) about 4 hours.
U.S.B.G.: What?
Me: Well, maybe 4 and a half.
U.S.B.G.: 4 and half hours...
Me: Yes.
U.S.B.G.: What were you doing?
Me: Oh, we went to see a wind mill where they had a big battle and then Fort Wellington where they had other battles. My husband has never been out of the country so we decided to come to Canada.
U.S.B.G.(looking at driver's license): You drove all the way from Pennsylvania to come to Canada for 4 hours?
Me: Oh GOD no! We were visiting a college in New York with my son and we just decided to go to Canada too.
U.S.B.G.sighing, less stern, more defeated): Did you buy anything while you were there?
Me: Just that (pointing to my hubby as he leans forward to model his necklace) and some ice cream but we ate that already.
U.S.B.G.: Go on then. Just remember that you have to start carrying proof of citizenship if you are going to leave the country.
Me: Will do! Thanks!
And off we went. Laughing hysterically.
I hope everyone is having a nice summer. You know, lots of nice trips and exciting things and such.
Things have settled down on the farm a bit since the wind turbine episode. For the most part, the summer has been pretty smooth sailing.
We did a short trip to New York. It was mainly for son to check out a college. Gah! College! Already!
We set up home base at my mom's cabin on Lake Ontario and did a day trip up to the college which is about 30 miles from the Canadian border. Waaaay up there. It seemed like a nice campus and a nice little town. We didn't get to tour buildings or anything - this was mainly a "Let's just check it out" kind of trip. We'll probably go back for one of the open house days in the fall.
And then since we were so close to the border, and since dear hubby has never been out of the country, he got it in that cute head of his to go to Canada. You know, just for kicks.
So off we go to Canada. At the border they stop you and ask to see your driver's license and please remove your sunglasses and do you have any alcohol or tobacco to declare. To which my hubby opened the glove compartment and took out a small bottle of Jameson and said "Just this. My wife keeps it in her purse." Which was true, it had been in my purse. First I was a bit mortified but then I turned to hubby and said "Just why, exactly, is it now not in my purse?" And it went like this...
Hubby: I took it out.
Me: What were you doing in my purse anyway?
Hubby: I had to get some money.
Me: So why is it in the glove compartment?
Hubby: Because I didn't think you really needed to carry it around with you...
Me: Well I do.
All the while this exchange was going on, the Canadian border patrol guy just kind of watched with an amuzed expression. I guess the cars may have startred to pile up behind us because he finally interrupted.
Me: And why wouldn't I need a bottle of Jameson in my purse?
Hubby: Well I just...
Canadian Border Guy: Ahem. Folks?
Us: Wha....?
Canadian Border Guy: So, uh, where are you headed in Canada?
Me: We don't know. My husband has never been out of the country so we decided to come to Canada.
Canadian Border Guy:...
Me: You know, just so he can finally say he's been out of the country and all.
Canadian Border Guy: Um...how long are you staying?
Hubby: Just a couple of minutes. We just want to drive across the bridge and then come back.
Me: No, we are not just driving across and coming back. We had to pay a darn toll! We're going to find something to do and then go back. (to Canadian Border Guy) What is there to do in Canada for an hour or so?
Canadian Border Guy (looking very amuzed by this point): Well, you can drive along Route 2. That's a nice drive. It will take you to the bridge where you can cross back over to Alexandria Bay.
Me: Oh that sounds nice. What is there to do along the way?
Finally he directed us to an information center where we got some maps and directions to some historic sites. Shortly after, hubby started drinking the Jameson.
While in Canada, we went to a big old mill-turned-lighthouse where there were some battles. From there, we went to Fort Wellington - another place where there were some battles. Then we got ice cream and slowly made our way to the next bridge back to the U.S. At the duty free shop, we stopped and got hubby a beaded hippie necklace as a souvenir.
The funny thing is that it's pretty easy to get into Canada when you don't really plan on going. The even funnier thing is that it's not too easy to get back into the U.S.
Scene: U.S. customs toll booth kind of thing. Ms. Quintessence in driver's seat looking at very stern U.S. Border Guy.
Me: Hi.
U.S. Border Guy: Citizenship?
Me: United States.
U.S. Border Guy: I need to see identification of all people in the car and take off your sunglasses.
Me: Oh, ok. (removes sunglasses and proceeds to dazzle U.S. Border Guy with baby blues...or not) Here, here are our licenses.
U.S.B.G.: Who is that in the back?
Me: That's our son.
U.S.B.G.: Proof of citizenship?
Me: What?
U.S.B.G.: Your proof of citizenship. I need to see passports, birth certificates or some other documentation.
Me: Uh oh...
U.S.B.G. (really not amuzed now): You don't have proof of citizenship?
Me: Um, no. We didn't know we needed that.
U.S.B.G.: It was passed into law. Everyone is required to have it.
Me: Is that something they mentioned on TV? Because we don't have TV. We didn't here anything about it.
U.S.B.G.: You are now required to provide proof of citizenship upon return to the United States.
Me: I see. We don't have any.
U.S.B.G.: You have nothing.
Me: No, no I don't think we do.
U.S.B.G.: How long were you in Canada?
Me: Oh...(looking at clock) about 4 hours.
U.S.B.G.: What?
Me: Well, maybe 4 and a half.
U.S.B.G.: 4 and half hours...
Me: Yes.
U.S.B.G.: What were you doing?
Me: Oh, we went to see a wind mill where they had a big battle and then Fort Wellington where they had other battles. My husband has never been out of the country so we decided to come to Canada.
U.S.B.G.(looking at driver's license): You drove all the way from Pennsylvania to come to Canada for 4 hours?
Me: Oh GOD no! We were visiting a college in New York with my son and we just decided to go to Canada too.
U.S.B.G.sighing, less stern, more defeated): Did you buy anything while you were there?
Me: Just that (pointing to my hubby as he leans forward to model his necklace) and some ice cream but we ate that already.
U.S.B.G.: Go on then. Just remember that you have to start carrying proof of citizenship if you are going to leave the country.
Me: Will do! Thanks!
And off we went. Laughing hysterically.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Is That A Turbine In Your Yard Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?
A Tale Of Independence
Well, I promised I would post about the windmill ordeal. And, I must stop right and correct myself.
Wind turbine ordeal. Because, Lord knows, we're not going to grind wheat with this thing now, are we?
And, fortunately for all you readers, this will be a bit of a photo journal type post. Yay photos! We love photos! Then we don't have to write as much! Oops - was that last part out loud?
Anyway...
You would really not believe the logistics involved in bringing a wind turbine and 100' steel tower from Grayslake, IL to Schuylkill County, PA. I know, you think you might have an idea but, trust me, you don't. So I am going to walk you through this, step by step.
Step 1: Trying to Get Out of Doing the Actual Hauling Yourself
This is done by trying to locate a tractor trailer or something coming home from that area empty. Obviously, the first thing to try is the internet, right? No, wrong again. The internet was about as helpful as it would have been to climb to the bottom of my well and ask around down there. Oh, don't get me wrong - there are lots and lots and lots and lots and (lots) x 10 of sites out there. But none that give you any actual help with the problem. When we finally just broke down and called a trucking company to pose the hypothetical situation of "What if someone had a wind turbine and 100' tower in Il...", we were given a price of somewhere around $1,400. So, this brings us to the next step.
Step 2: Trying to Get a Towing Vehicle and Trailer to Just Get the Thing Ourselves Already Because, Cripes! $1400?!!!
First, try to get a flatbed or stake side truck. Because that is the best vehicle to do a job like this and also because we can all use a little exercise in wild goose chase. Then, start to casually drop hints everywhere - at work, at home, at the gynecologist's office - that you need to find a very large, flat trailer capable of carrying a heavy load. Eventually, someone will know someone who has one and you might want to try to call so and so. In this case, it was a guy that I work with. As it turns out, he had the perfect trailer and was all like "Just take it, I'm not using it..." So we jumped on it.
The next part is to find a vehicle capable of towing not only the trailer, but the trailer loaded down with many, many pounds of wind turbine and tower. So the thing to do is call ed's usa rentals and try to score a truck or SUV. Fortunately, they had a big ass Suburban that was available and had all the bells and whistles necessary for electric brakes and whatnot.
Just out of curiosity and a sense of impending doom I asked the gal at ed's "So, what is the mileage like on this thing?" She said she didn't really know but she thinks around 20 mpg or so. I thought she was being a bit on the optimistic side so I figured probably upper teens on the way out and then, once we loaded the trailer, about 2 or 3 mpg on the way back.
Step 3: Head West, Don Quixote!
(This is where the post will start to get interesting because I didn't take any photos of the "making phone calls" part of the process.)
Now, as in my last post, I am going to start letting the pictures tell the story here - mainly because I really need to get out and mow the grass today. So, here we go!
Here is a picture of the Suburban. I called it the Drug Lord Mobile.
It was very plush and roomy. Kind of like a suite at a nice hotel. Minus the shower.
Because of not wanting to use vacation time, we planned this trip for when hubby had a 4 day off period in his work schedule. The unfortuante part of this is that we were leaving on a morning when he had just finished working a 12 hour night shift. The very unfortunate part of this was that, at some point, he would be too tired to drive and I was going to have to take over the wheel.
People, I can't even drive the riding lawn mower with the yard cart attached let alone a Drug Lord Mobile towing an 18 foot trailer!
Be that as it may, here I am, taking the helm after a quick stop for a bite to eat.
Hubby had a few hours of peaceful slumber and eventually was ready to take the wheel again. Which was fine by me because we were coming into heavier traffic somewhere in Ohio. We were going to make a quick detour to Canfield but, as you can see...
...it was closed.
What is up with that? Closed.
Anyway...Ohio is very...flat. Well, at least it is after a short hilly section right after you leave PA. We stopped at a rest area in Ohio and I must say, Ohio has very nice rest areas. Since we were at least 10 kinds of long with our Drug Lord Mobile and 18 foot trailer, we parked with the big rigs.
She is small but mighty.
Indiana...well, that's flat too. But they have very personable toll collectors in Indiana.
This guy said "What you takin' my picture for?" To which I replied "Because we're frm Pennsylvania." It seemed logical at the time. But bear in mind, this was after many, many hours of flat driving.
We finally arrived in Illonois and it wasn't long before we were in the Chicago area. Here is a bit of advice for travelling in the Chicago area with a Drug Lord Mobile and 18 foot trailer: try to avoid it at all costs. Except when that cost is somewhere around $1400.
It seems there is no way around Chicago so you have to go through Chicago. As it turns out, the road we were on also happened to be under major construction so that the normal size lanes that are challenging enough when one is driving (or riding in, for that matter) a Drug Lord Mobile with 18 foot trailer, are now little, narrow construction zone lanes that make driving (or riding in) a Drug Lord Mobile with 18 foot trailer rather a bit frightening. I saw about as much of Chicago as I have seen of the Exorcist since what I did see of both was through the little slits between my fingers when my hands are over my eyes.
Ok...I exaggerate. A bit.
We got to our hotel just around 1am and crashed into bed. The next morning I woke up and took a looksie outside.
Wetness. Everywhere. Not good. We showered, ate our continental breakfast, and headed off on the last 5 miles of our journey.
Step 4: Load the Gosh Darn Thing
We met up with the fellow who sold the wind turbine and proceeded to slide sideways through the mud to the lower section of his yard. Again, not good. Especially considering we were going to have to try to get back out with a mere 4 more tons of weight.
The owner took the lower section of the tower apart so's it could fit on the trailer. As it turns out, the second lower section also had to be taken apart since it too was also too wide for the trailer. Here is another picture.
It took us all about 4 or 5 hours until we finally had everything on the trailer. In the mean time, the rain gave us a break. We were able to get the vehicle and trailer out of the lower section of the yard and aimed at the road and we felt all kinds of successful. After everything was loaded, the former owner guy took us to a spot down the road a bit to show us another wind turbine in action. It was about 120' as opposed to our 100'. We stared in wonder and envy.
Step 5: Get Thee Back To Pennsylvania
Soon we were back on the road and way too soon we were back in the Chicago area. Only this time, instead of racing through at midnight, we inched our way along with the rest of the mid afternoon traffic. Like this: stop, go, stop, go, stop, go, stop, go, etc. It took us close to three hours to make it around Chicago. And it was all very exciting for us what with 4 tons of cargo on our trailer.
Just as we were leaving Indiana, it started to rain again. Rain, and rain, and rain and rain. Like this: rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, etc.
Here's a picture to fill in the other 993 rains.
That's what it looked like out my window. This is what it looked like out the windshield.
We pulled over at the next rest area and ate something or other and waited for the rain to pass. Once the sun came out, we were ready to get back on the road. I took a moment to snap a picture of our Drug Lord Mobile with fully loaded 18 foot trailer on account of knowing you would all want to see. Here it is.
Is that a rainbow shining over our Drug Lord Mobile with fully loaded 18 foot trailer? No, it is not.
Now we were in for a whole lot more flat driving. The only difference was that this time we had to go quite a bit slower and every once in a while we would start going all sorts of side to side. Hubby said this was nothing to worry about but I didn't believe him in the least and I commenced to severe worrying for the remainder of the trip.
Here is a picture of us going all side to side.
Fortunately for you, it is not video. Just trust me that is was in mid fishtail. Scary.
Around dusk, we caught up to the rain storm again. Only this time, we didn't get into the rain. Instead we travelled in a huge circle of lightening. I'm talking MAJOR lightening. Like 6 or 7 bolts hitting the ground all at once plus another whole lot of bolts flying around in the sky. It was crazy. Like this: lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, etc. But all at once. Hubby and I were all "Man, this is some crazy lightening!" Then I started to think about the fact that I was attached to trailer with 4 tons of steel. Then I made myself stop thinking about that.
The lightening went on for - get this - 4 hours!!! During the first hour we were thinking "This is really cool!" During the second hour we were thinking "This is really cool and, my, isn't it going on for quite a while!" During the third hour we were thinking "How much longer can this go on?" And during the fouth hour we thought "Let's pull over and take a nap. Lightening schmitening." We planned on taking a small nap. Which, relatively speaking, it was I suppose. Like if you were comparing it to, say, a 12 hour nap. Eight hours later we were on the road again.
There were two truly priceless moments during the trip. The first was when we were in a merge situation due to an upcoming construction area. As we were approaching the single lane, a Prius came up along side of us with the driver acting like it might be a good idea to try to beat this Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer into the spot that was between us and the slowing vehilcle in front. Hubby looked at the car and said "Look at this guy in the Prius acting like it might be a good idea to try to beat this Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer. Well, look out buddy 'cause we've got a trailer full of independence!"
Maybe it was being on the flat boring road for umpteen hours but that just cracked me up. And speaking of being on the road for umpteen hours, the other priceless moment came when we were still about 70 miles from the Pennsylvania border. Poor hubby had been hauling ass with our Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer for hours on end because I refused to drive it once it was loaded. I was keeping a close eye on him, trying to make sure he got plenty of breakes and drinks and such. All of a sudden, he broke into "Jesus Take the Wheel". Which, I suppose should have really concerned my but it only served to crack me up all the more.
Finally we crossed the border back into Pennsylvania.
I can honestly say I have never loved the hills of my home state more than that moment.
Another 5 hours and we were home, daddy, home!
Well, I promised I would post about the windmill ordeal. And, I must stop right and correct myself.
Wind turbine ordeal. Because, Lord knows, we're not going to grind wheat with this thing now, are we?
And, fortunately for all you readers, this will be a bit of a photo journal type post. Yay photos! We love photos! Then we don't have to write as much! Oops - was that last part out loud?
Anyway...
You would really not believe the logistics involved in bringing a wind turbine and 100' steel tower from Grayslake, IL to Schuylkill County, PA. I know, you think you might have an idea but, trust me, you don't. So I am going to walk you through this, step by step.
Step 1: Trying to Get Out of Doing the Actual Hauling Yourself
This is done by trying to locate a tractor trailer or something coming home from that area empty. Obviously, the first thing to try is the internet, right? No, wrong again. The internet was about as helpful as it would have been to climb to the bottom of my well and ask around down there. Oh, don't get me wrong - there are lots and lots and lots and lots and (lots) x 10 of sites out there. But none that give you any actual help with the problem. When we finally just broke down and called a trucking company to pose the hypothetical situation of "What if someone had a wind turbine and 100' tower in Il...", we were given a price of somewhere around $1,400. So, this brings us to the next step.
Step 2: Trying to Get a Towing Vehicle and Trailer to Just Get the Thing Ourselves Already Because, Cripes! $1400?!!!
First, try to get a flatbed or stake side truck. Because that is the best vehicle to do a job like this and also because we can all use a little exercise in wild goose chase. Then, start to casually drop hints everywhere - at work, at home, at the gynecologist's office - that you need to find a very large, flat trailer capable of carrying a heavy load. Eventually, someone will know someone who has one and you might want to try to call so and so. In this case, it was a guy that I work with. As it turns out, he had the perfect trailer and was all like "Just take it, I'm not using it..." So we jumped on it.
The next part is to find a vehicle capable of towing not only the trailer, but the trailer loaded down with many, many pounds of wind turbine and tower. So the thing to do is call ed's usa rentals and try to score a truck or SUV. Fortunately, they had a big ass Suburban that was available and had all the bells and whistles necessary for electric brakes and whatnot.
Just out of curiosity and a sense of impending doom I asked the gal at ed's "So, what is the mileage like on this thing?" She said she didn't really know but she thinks around 20 mpg or so. I thought she was being a bit on the optimistic side so I figured probably upper teens on the way out and then, once we loaded the trailer, about 2 or 3 mpg on the way back.
Step 3: Head West, Don Quixote!
(This is where the post will start to get interesting because I didn't take any photos of the "making phone calls" part of the process.)
Now, as in my last post, I am going to start letting the pictures tell the story here - mainly because I really need to get out and mow the grass today. So, here we go!
Here is a picture of the Suburban. I called it the Drug Lord Mobile.
It was very plush and roomy. Kind of like a suite at a nice hotel. Minus the shower.
Because of not wanting to use vacation time, we planned this trip for when hubby had a 4 day off period in his work schedule. The unfortuante part of this is that we were leaving on a morning when he had just finished working a 12 hour night shift. The very unfortunate part of this was that, at some point, he would be too tired to drive and I was going to have to take over the wheel.
People, I can't even drive the riding lawn mower with the yard cart attached let alone a Drug Lord Mobile towing an 18 foot trailer!
Be that as it may, here I am, taking the helm after a quick stop for a bite to eat.
Hubby had a few hours of peaceful slumber and eventually was ready to take the wheel again. Which was fine by me because we were coming into heavier traffic somewhere in Ohio. We were going to make a quick detour to Canfield but, as you can see...
...it was closed.
What is up with that? Closed.
Anyway...Ohio is very...flat. Well, at least it is after a short hilly section right after you leave PA. We stopped at a rest area in Ohio and I must say, Ohio has very nice rest areas. Since we were at least 10 kinds of long with our Drug Lord Mobile and 18 foot trailer, we parked with the big rigs.
She is small but mighty.
Indiana...well, that's flat too. But they have very personable toll collectors in Indiana.
This guy said "What you takin' my picture for?" To which I replied "Because we're frm Pennsylvania." It seemed logical at the time. But bear in mind, this was after many, many hours of flat driving.
We finally arrived in Illonois and it wasn't long before we were in the Chicago area. Here is a bit of advice for travelling in the Chicago area with a Drug Lord Mobile and 18 foot trailer: try to avoid it at all costs. Except when that cost is somewhere around $1400.
It seems there is no way around Chicago so you have to go through Chicago. As it turns out, the road we were on also happened to be under major construction so that the normal size lanes that are challenging enough when one is driving (or riding in, for that matter) a Drug Lord Mobile with 18 foot trailer, are now little, narrow construction zone lanes that make driving (or riding in) a Drug Lord Mobile with 18 foot trailer rather a bit frightening. I saw about as much of Chicago as I have seen of the Exorcist since what I did see of both was through the little slits between my fingers when my hands are over my eyes.
Ok...I exaggerate. A bit.
We got to our hotel just around 1am and crashed into bed. The next morning I woke up and took a looksie outside.
Wetness. Everywhere. Not good. We showered, ate our continental breakfast, and headed off on the last 5 miles of our journey.
Step 4: Load the Gosh Darn Thing
We met up with the fellow who sold the wind turbine and proceeded to slide sideways through the mud to the lower section of his yard. Again, not good. Especially considering we were going to have to try to get back out with a mere 4 more tons of weight.
The owner took the lower section of the tower apart so's it could fit on the trailer. As it turns out, the second lower section also had to be taken apart since it too was also too wide for the trailer. Here is another picture.
It took us all about 4 or 5 hours until we finally had everything on the trailer. In the mean time, the rain gave us a break. We were able to get the vehicle and trailer out of the lower section of the yard and aimed at the road and we felt all kinds of successful. After everything was loaded, the former owner guy took us to a spot down the road a bit to show us another wind turbine in action. It was about 120' as opposed to our 100'. We stared in wonder and envy.
Step 5: Get Thee Back To Pennsylvania
Soon we were back on the road and way too soon we were back in the Chicago area. Only this time, instead of racing through at midnight, we inched our way along with the rest of the mid afternoon traffic. Like this: stop, go, stop, go, stop, go, stop, go, etc. It took us close to three hours to make it around Chicago. And it was all very exciting for us what with 4 tons of cargo on our trailer.
Just as we were leaving Indiana, it started to rain again. Rain, and rain, and rain and rain. Like this: rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, etc.
Here's a picture to fill in the other 993 rains.
That's what it looked like out my window. This is what it looked like out the windshield.
We pulled over at the next rest area and ate something or other and waited for the rain to pass. Once the sun came out, we were ready to get back on the road. I took a moment to snap a picture of our Drug Lord Mobile with fully loaded 18 foot trailer on account of knowing you would all want to see. Here it is.
Is that a rainbow shining over our Drug Lord Mobile with fully loaded 18 foot trailer? No, it is not.
Now we were in for a whole lot more flat driving. The only difference was that this time we had to go quite a bit slower and every once in a while we would start going all sorts of side to side. Hubby said this was nothing to worry about but I didn't believe him in the least and I commenced to severe worrying for the remainder of the trip.
Here is a picture of us going all side to side.
Fortunately for you, it is not video. Just trust me that is was in mid fishtail. Scary.
Around dusk, we caught up to the rain storm again. Only this time, we didn't get into the rain. Instead we travelled in a huge circle of lightening. I'm talking MAJOR lightening. Like 6 or 7 bolts hitting the ground all at once plus another whole lot of bolts flying around in the sky. It was crazy. Like this: lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, lightening, etc. But all at once. Hubby and I were all "Man, this is some crazy lightening!" Then I started to think about the fact that I was attached to trailer with 4 tons of steel. Then I made myself stop thinking about that.
The lightening went on for - get this - 4 hours!!! During the first hour we were thinking "This is really cool!" During the second hour we were thinking "This is really cool and, my, isn't it going on for quite a while!" During the third hour we were thinking "How much longer can this go on?" And during the fouth hour we thought "Let's pull over and take a nap. Lightening schmitening." We planned on taking a small nap. Which, relatively speaking, it was I suppose. Like if you were comparing it to, say, a 12 hour nap. Eight hours later we were on the road again.
There were two truly priceless moments during the trip. The first was when we were in a merge situation due to an upcoming construction area. As we were approaching the single lane, a Prius came up along side of us with the driver acting like it might be a good idea to try to beat this Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer into the spot that was between us and the slowing vehilcle in front. Hubby looked at the car and said "Look at this guy in the Prius acting like it might be a good idea to try to beat this Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer. Well, look out buddy 'cause we've got a trailer full of independence!"
Maybe it was being on the flat boring road for umpteen hours but that just cracked me up. And speaking of being on the road for umpteen hours, the other priceless moment came when we were still about 70 miles from the Pennsylvania border. Poor hubby had been hauling ass with our Drug Lord Mobile with 4 Tons of Steele on an 18 Foot Trailer for hours on end because I refused to drive it once it was loaded. I was keeping a close eye on him, trying to make sure he got plenty of breakes and drinks and such. All of a sudden, he broke into "Jesus Take the Wheel". Which, I suppose should have really concerned my but it only served to crack me up all the more.
Finally we crossed the border back into Pennsylvania.
I can honestly say I have never loved the hills of my home state more than that moment.
Another 5 hours and we were home, daddy, home!
Friday, June 16, 2006
The June Post...for lack of a better title
Hey there everybody.
Here I am again.
Woohoo.
Anyway, I thought I'd give an update as to how things are going down on the farm.
Hmm...so many updates, so little...desire. That's right. I am just not in the mood for the blog thing lately. I think, mainly, that it's because I spend a WHOLE LOT OF TIME on the computer at work and the last thing I want to do when I come home for the day is sit in front of the computer. There might also be the fact that my butt is starting to take on the shape of an office chair seat. Large. Flat. Tweedish pattern. And just plain unflattering. So there it is.
But, I know you are all wondering if I, along with my eccentric family, have fallen off the face of the earth so I will make the sacrifice to give you your fix.
Ahem.
Well, I think, the last project I had mentioned was the goat fence. That project - mercifully - is done. Not without minor glitches, mind you. Ok. Major glitches. See, here's the thing. We figured on fencing in this one particular patch on the property that ended up requiring a 400' perimeter fence. Easy enough. We went to Lowe's, bought the fence, carted it out into the parking lot where it promptly all rolled off the cart into the lane that the cars drive in, loaded the fence and, oh, about a bazillion fence stakes into the station wagon and drove it all home. The next day, hubby, daughter, daughter's friend and I all worked our various shaped butts off getting the fence installed. Finally the project was done and we were all so very proud of ourselves. We put the goat into her new environment and she propmtly squoze (word? not word? who knows?) her evil little head through one of the holes in the top part of the fence. And got it stuck there. Because she has theses blasted horns, she could squeeze her head through but could not pull it back out.
That sucked. Big time.
I might have even cried. If I didn't cry, I at least cried out. Bad words.
Anyway, back to Lowe's for fence with smaller holes which, coincidentally, is much stiffer and a big pain in one's odd shaped butt to put up. Carted that fence home. Took down the old fence and installed new.
Now the goat is secure. Secure in an Alcatraz kind of way. It's...it's...beautiful.
Next project. The Chicken Tractor.
What, exactly, is a chicken tractor? Well, it's a kind of mobile chicken coop and pen that runs on the distored ideas of misguided first time farmers. No, really, it is just a mobile chicken pen. My hubby came across this idea in Mother Earth News. It's cheap because you can just whip it together with all of the pipes and falling down buildings you already have on your property. And it's easy to make because it only takes about 89 days to figure out exactly how you are going to make this motly pile of building materials work together. I promise I will post pictures. As soon as we get it out of the garage.
As you can see, that project hasn't quite made it to the Thank God We're Done With That list.
Hmmm...what else.
Well, I accidentally poisoned myself.
No, really. I did.
And, as you might have guessed, there is an interesting story to go along with it.
I had to show a house in a certain town that shall remain nameless except when it crosses my lips in prayer that the entire area is swallowed into the fires of Hell. The house seemed nice enough. Until...
Until I got into my car and drove away. I made it about two blocks away and happened to look down. And can you imagine what I saw? Hmmm? Fleas. A whole lot of fleas leapfrogging in delight on my jeans.
Yes. EEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!
So I stopped at the nearest store and bought flea spray guaranteed to kill on contact. I didn't read the finer print because it's apparantly guaranteed to kill ALL LIVING THINGS on contact. I sparyed my legs, my car seats, the floor of my car, etc. And then I figured I better find a store where I could buy a flea bomb and bomb my car. It was on the way to store number 2 that I...began...to...not...feel...quite...right... A...bit...woozy...if...you...will...
But, in a day or so I was over it.
No visible harm done. It just takes me an extra 10 minutes to write my name and things like that.
Oh, what else...?
Oh.
Yes.
The...sigh...
Our eBay purchase.
Well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words so, consider this a good 4 or 5 lengthy and descriptive paragraphs.
um...
Yeah.
That would be a 5kW turbine on a 100' tower.
We're driving out to Illinois on Tuesday to pick it up.
I think that's all I want to discuss right now.
I think I need to go have a drink.
Here I am again.
Woohoo.
Anyway, I thought I'd give an update as to how things are going down on the farm.
Hmm...so many updates, so little...desire. That's right. I am just not in the mood for the blog thing lately. I think, mainly, that it's because I spend a WHOLE LOT OF TIME on the computer at work and the last thing I want to do when I come home for the day is sit in front of the computer. There might also be the fact that my butt is starting to take on the shape of an office chair seat. Large. Flat. Tweedish pattern. And just plain unflattering. So there it is.
But, I know you are all wondering if I, along with my eccentric family, have fallen off the face of the earth so I will make the sacrifice to give you your fix.
Ahem.
Well, I think, the last project I had mentioned was the goat fence. That project - mercifully - is done. Not without minor glitches, mind you. Ok. Major glitches. See, here's the thing. We figured on fencing in this one particular patch on the property that ended up requiring a 400' perimeter fence. Easy enough. We went to Lowe's, bought the fence, carted it out into the parking lot where it promptly all rolled off the cart into the lane that the cars drive in, loaded the fence and, oh, about a bazillion fence stakes into the station wagon and drove it all home. The next day, hubby, daughter, daughter's friend and I all worked our various shaped butts off getting the fence installed. Finally the project was done and we were all so very proud of ourselves. We put the goat into her new environment and she propmtly squoze (word? not word? who knows?) her evil little head through one of the holes in the top part of the fence. And got it stuck there. Because she has theses blasted horns, she could squeeze her head through but could not pull it back out.
That sucked. Big time.
I might have even cried. If I didn't cry, I at least cried out. Bad words.
Anyway, back to Lowe's for fence with smaller holes which, coincidentally, is much stiffer and a big pain in one's odd shaped butt to put up. Carted that fence home. Took down the old fence and installed new.
Now the goat is secure. Secure in an Alcatraz kind of way. It's...it's...beautiful.
Next project. The Chicken Tractor.
What, exactly, is a chicken tractor? Well, it's a kind of mobile chicken coop and pen that runs on the distored ideas of misguided first time farmers. No, really, it is just a mobile chicken pen. My hubby came across this idea in Mother Earth News. It's cheap because you can just whip it together with all of the pipes and falling down buildings you already have on your property. And it's easy to make because it only takes about 89 days to figure out exactly how you are going to make this motly pile of building materials work together. I promise I will post pictures. As soon as we get it out of the garage.
As you can see, that project hasn't quite made it to the Thank God We're Done With That list.
Hmmm...what else.
Well, I accidentally poisoned myself.
No, really. I did.
And, as you might have guessed, there is an interesting story to go along with it.
I had to show a house in a certain town that shall remain nameless except when it crosses my lips in prayer that the entire area is swallowed into the fires of Hell. The house seemed nice enough. Until...
Until I got into my car and drove away. I made it about two blocks away and happened to look down. And can you imagine what I saw? Hmmm? Fleas. A whole lot of fleas leapfrogging in delight on my jeans.
Yes. EEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!
So I stopped at the nearest store and bought flea spray guaranteed to kill on contact. I didn't read the finer print because it's apparantly guaranteed to kill ALL LIVING THINGS on contact. I sparyed my legs, my car seats, the floor of my car, etc. And then I figured I better find a store where I could buy a flea bomb and bomb my car. It was on the way to store number 2 that I...began...to...not...feel...quite...right... A...bit...woozy...if...you...will...
But, in a day or so I was over it.
No visible harm done. It just takes me an extra 10 minutes to write my name and things like that.
Oh, what else...?
Oh.
Yes.
The...sigh...
Our eBay purchase.
Well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words so, consider this a good 4 or 5 lengthy and descriptive paragraphs.
um...
Yeah.
That would be a 5kW turbine on a 100' tower.
We're driving out to Illinois on Tuesday to pick it up.
I think that's all I want to discuss right now.
I think I need to go have a drink.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
*puff, puff, puff...*
That would be me.
Breathing hard.
Why?
Is my hubby nibbling on my ear?
No.
Did I just jog five miles like I know I should?
Nope.
Am I making prank phone calls again?
Sorry, but no.
I am in the throes of SUPER HOUSE CLEANING>
Yesterday I finished cleaning the bathroom/laundry room. Because that's what I love to do when I have a day off and the sun is shining and it's a balmy 70 degrees. Yep.
And whilst cleaning the bathroom/laundry room, I began to ponder the situation of my home.
Let me first preface this pondering by letting you in on the plans for the weekend. My lovely daughter and her lovely friend have decided to have a co-birthday party. At our house. They invited about 20 or so kids to camp over.
At our house.
Our house.
The one I reference every once in a while in this blog.
The one that is pretty much falling down around us.
Sigh.
Part of cleaning the laundry room entailed vacuuming the cobwebs out of the part of the ceiling that had to come down due to the excessive water leaking through it. I had to vacuum all around the knob and tube wiring to get rid of those unsightly webs.
Then I had to vacuum the loose plaster falling off the wall in the bathroom.
Did I mention I have 20 kids staying here this weekend?
My house is like a lazy old harlot. It lies about, exposing its privates to no one and everyone in particular.
What's that hole in the ceiling? Oh...um...it's the...eh-hem...drainpipe.
It doesn't matter what is on the schedule, something SOMETHING will always break shortly before the affair relsulting in the pulling down of walls, ceilings or whatever.
Why is there plastic on the dining room ceiling? Oh, well, the um...wastepipe was leaking. Yes, right through the ceiling onto the floor. Yes, it is gross, isn't it?
...or, just as likely...
Oh, you'd like to get a shower in the morning? Um...you wouldn't, by chance, happen to be a member of the Polar Bear Swim Club, would you?
20 kids.
So anyway, the cleaning of the laundry room part of the job entailed the washing and drying of a down comfortor, several blankets and several winter coats along with the regular laundry. Do you know how long it takes to dry a down comforter? Hmm? Do you? A looooooong time. This task alone is what determines just how much laundry you will get washed and dried throughout the rest of the day. It kind of goes like this:
Wash comforter.
Put comforter in drier.
Wash many other blankets.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Take many blankets out of washer and put in basket. Put winter coats in washer.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Attend you great grandchild's wedding.
Put comforter in drier for another go round.
Etc.
Since it was a balmy day, I did get to put the other blankets on the line. But still...
Eventually the task was done along with some other minor items (removing and washing storm windows, going to the post office, painting a window, changing the litter box, folding other laundry, blah, blah, blah). BUT! It felt good to get that room to a state I like to call "Good Enough". No blankets/comforters/coats on the floor next to the washer waiting their turns, walls and floor washed, appliances wiped down, fresh litter box.
And while I'm on the subject of the litter box, can anyone tell me why, why in God's name, do the cats have to use it the very second it is cleaned? Hmm? I poured the remaining two cups of cat litter into the box and turned my back to get a new container of litter. By the time I got back to the box, one of the cats already peed in it. What bit of fresh litter in there was now a hard little clump sitting in the bottom of the box mocking me. Why do they have to do that? I mean, I like a clean toilet and everything but I'm not that fanatical about it.
Anyway...
I finished off the day with a nice long walk with hubby and collapsed into bed.
Until about...oh...4 o'clock this morning.
Hubby and I were snuggled under our comforter and afghan with visions of drywall dancing in our heads. The beagles were peacefully aslumber, curled up on the foot of the bed.And then...
Gurp.
Ohh...that bit of drywall didn't sound too good.
Gurp.
Maybe it's just the plumbing...
Gurp.
Could it be one of our contractors?
Gurp.
Is that Johnny Depp putting up my drywall? He doesn't sound so good...
Gurp, gurp...
As my foggy brain was coming to the disappointing realization that a slightly under the weather Johnny Depp was not, in fact, hanging nice, new drywall in my hallway, the horror of what the noise was started to sink in...
Gurp, gurp...
Come on all you animal lovers! You know this sound!
Gurp, gurp, gurp...
I began a frantic scramble from under the downy fluffieness of my comforter.
Gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp...
My toes got caught in the afghan. I flailed. I pulled. I tugged.
Gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp...
Finally I am free! My feet hit the floor and I ran to the end of the bed and...
Blaaap!
One of the bealges puked on the bed.
Let me just pause a moment in the story to impart some practical advice. If you are going to sleep with dogs...or cats, for that matter...an afghan is probably not the best thing to have as your first line of defense.
So as I sit here typing this, my laundry room floor now has on it: a mattress pad, a fitted sheet, a flat sheet, a blanket, a rather large afghan and, yes, another down comforter.
Breathing hard.
Why?
Is my hubby nibbling on my ear?
No.
Did I just jog five miles like I know I should?
Nope.
Am I making prank phone calls again?
Sorry, but no.
I am in the throes of SUPER HOUSE CLEANING>
Yesterday I finished cleaning the bathroom/laundry room. Because that's what I love to do when I have a day off and the sun is shining and it's a balmy 70 degrees. Yep.
And whilst cleaning the bathroom/laundry room, I began to ponder the situation of my home.
Let me first preface this pondering by letting you in on the plans for the weekend. My lovely daughter and her lovely friend have decided to have a co-birthday party. At our house. They invited about 20 or so kids to camp over.
At our house.
Our house.
The one I reference every once in a while in this blog.
The one that is pretty much falling down around us.
Sigh.
Part of cleaning the laundry room entailed vacuuming the cobwebs out of the part of the ceiling that had to come down due to the excessive water leaking through it. I had to vacuum all around the knob and tube wiring to get rid of those unsightly webs.
Then I had to vacuum the loose plaster falling off the wall in the bathroom.
Did I mention I have 20 kids staying here this weekend?
My house is like a lazy old harlot. It lies about, exposing its privates to no one and everyone in particular.
What's that hole in the ceiling? Oh...um...it's the...eh-hem...drainpipe.
It doesn't matter what is on the schedule, something SOMETHING will always break shortly before the affair relsulting in the pulling down of walls, ceilings or whatever.
Why is there plastic on the dining room ceiling? Oh, well, the um...wastepipe was leaking. Yes, right through the ceiling onto the floor. Yes, it is gross, isn't it?
...or, just as likely...
Oh, you'd like to get a shower in the morning? Um...you wouldn't, by chance, happen to be a member of the Polar Bear Swim Club, would you?
20 kids.
So anyway, the cleaning of the laundry room part of the job entailed the washing and drying of a down comfortor, several blankets and several winter coats along with the regular laundry. Do you know how long it takes to dry a down comforter? Hmm? Do you? A looooooong time. This task alone is what determines just how much laundry you will get washed and dried throughout the rest of the day. It kind of goes like this:
Wash comforter.
Put comforter in drier.
Wash many other blankets.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Take many blankets out of washer and put in basket. Put winter coats in washer.
Rearrange comforter in drier for another go round.
Attend you great grandchild's wedding.
Put comforter in drier for another go round.
Etc.
Since it was a balmy day, I did get to put the other blankets on the line. But still...
Eventually the task was done along with some other minor items (removing and washing storm windows, going to the post office, painting a window, changing the litter box, folding other laundry, blah, blah, blah). BUT! It felt good to get that room to a state I like to call "Good Enough". No blankets/comforters/coats on the floor next to the washer waiting their turns, walls and floor washed, appliances wiped down, fresh litter box.
And while I'm on the subject of the litter box, can anyone tell me why, why in God's name, do the cats have to use it the very second it is cleaned? Hmm? I poured the remaining two cups of cat litter into the box and turned my back to get a new container of litter. By the time I got back to the box, one of the cats already peed in it. What bit of fresh litter in there was now a hard little clump sitting in the bottom of the box mocking me. Why do they have to do that? I mean, I like a clean toilet and everything but I'm not that fanatical about it.
Anyway...
I finished off the day with a nice long walk with hubby and collapsed into bed.
Until about...oh...4 o'clock this morning.
Hubby and I were snuggled under our comforter and afghan with visions of drywall dancing in our heads. The beagles were peacefully aslumber, curled up on the foot of the bed.And then...
Gurp.
Ohh...that bit of drywall didn't sound too good.
Gurp.
Maybe it's just the plumbing...
Gurp.
Could it be one of our contractors?
Gurp.
Is that Johnny Depp putting up my drywall? He doesn't sound so good...
Gurp, gurp...
As my foggy brain was coming to the disappointing realization that a slightly under the weather Johnny Depp was not, in fact, hanging nice, new drywall in my hallway, the horror of what the noise was started to sink in...
Gurp, gurp...
Come on all you animal lovers! You know this sound!
Gurp, gurp, gurp...
I began a frantic scramble from under the downy fluffieness of my comforter.
Gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp...
My toes got caught in the afghan. I flailed. I pulled. I tugged.
Gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp, gurp...
Finally I am free! My feet hit the floor and I ran to the end of the bed and...
Blaaap!
One of the bealges puked on the bed.
Let me just pause a moment in the story to impart some practical advice. If you are going to sleep with dogs...or cats, for that matter...an afghan is probably not the best thing to have as your first line of defense.
So as I sit here typing this, my laundry room floor now has on it: a mattress pad, a fitted sheet, a flat sheet, a blanket, a rather large afghan and, yes, another down comforter.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Ummm...
These were the "Most Popular" news headlines on MSN today:
• Publisher cancels Harvard author’s book deal
• Amnesty: Torture ‘widespread’ in U.S. custody
• Armenian airliner plunges into Black Sea
• Splish splash! Dive in with these swimsuits
• Non-diet sodas to be pulled from public schools
Does anyone else find that kind of funny or is it just my warped sense of humor?
Anyway, I promise a real post soon.
• Publisher cancels Harvard author’s book deal
• Amnesty: Torture ‘widespread’ in U.S. custody
• Armenian airliner plunges into Black Sea
• Splish splash! Dive in with these swimsuits
• Non-diet sodas to be pulled from public schools
Does anyone else find that kind of funny or is it just my warped sense of humor?
Anyway, I promise a real post soon.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Quickie Post Here
Ok...
Here's my first quickie update.
I just went to Yahoo! and glanced at the news headlines and saw this
U.S. May Ask IAEA to Pressure Iran.
Which, in my haste, I read as this
U.S. May Ask IKEA to Pressure Iran.
And before I even thought about re-reading, my mind barrelled ahead with thoughts of furniture that needed to be assembled, incorrect instructions, not enough parts and confounded Iranians scratching their heads. And the whole time I'm thinking "What? Is this an attempt at sanctions or what?"
And then I went back and read it again.
Hee hee.
Here's my first quickie update.
I just went to Yahoo! and glanced at the news headlines and saw this
U.S. May Ask IAEA to Pressure Iran.
Which, in my haste, I read as this
U.S. May Ask IKEA to Pressure Iran.
And before I even thought about re-reading, my mind barrelled ahead with thoughts of furniture that needed to be assembled, incorrect instructions, not enough parts and confounded Iranians scratching their heads. And the whole time I'm thinking "What? Is this an attempt at sanctions or what?"
And then I went back and read it again.
Hee hee.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Alright, alright, alright. Boy, that didn't last long.
Due to the unforeseen threat by Tony C to come visiting, please disregard the previous post.
No, I'm kidding.
Actually it is due to my big sis calling...
The whole catalyst for the previouse post was the arrival of 660 feet of fence that hubby and I have to install in short order. And the impending gardening season. And the roof leaking during the last rain. And the toilet that won't stop running. And, and, and...
You get the idea.
I thought a sabbatical might be in order. Because I get it in my head that "Oh, I'll just pop on the computer and update the ol' blog..." and then suddenly, two hours later, where did the time ever go? You had no idea I spend that much time on my posts, did you?
Ok, I don't. I often fall victim to the NEXT BLOG button. Like gambling.
OR...the internet in general. "I wonder how much it would cost to ship that draft horse from Illinois?
And there the time goes.
So, in the interest of preserving my blog, my farm and my sanity, I'm going to try my big sis's (she's so smart) suggestion of just doing a quick weekly update thing. Except it may not exactly be weekly. I guess we'll just have to see how it goes. I'm thinking maybe a photo of the week.
Or a haiku.
Or...something else.
At any rate, gosh, thanks guys! I had no idea. So I will try no to dissapoint yous all and I'll keep at it.
And, Mr. Tony C, you don't scare me with phone calls or personal visits. In fact, we'd love to see you. Do you have a pair of wire cutters?
No, I'm kidding.
Actually it is due to my big sis calling...
The whole catalyst for the previouse post was the arrival of 660 feet of fence that hubby and I have to install in short order. And the impending gardening season. And the roof leaking during the last rain. And the toilet that won't stop running. And, and, and...
You get the idea.
I thought a sabbatical might be in order. Because I get it in my head that "Oh, I'll just pop on the computer and update the ol' blog..." and then suddenly, two hours later, where did the time ever go? You had no idea I spend that much time on my posts, did you?
Ok, I don't. I often fall victim to the NEXT BLOG button. Like gambling.
OR...the internet in general. "I wonder how much it would cost to ship that draft horse from Illinois?
And there the time goes.
So, in the interest of preserving my blog, my farm and my sanity, I'm going to try my big sis's (she's so smart) suggestion of just doing a quick weekly update thing. Except it may not exactly be weekly. I guess we'll just have to see how it goes. I'm thinking maybe a photo of the week.
Or a haiku.
Or...something else.
At any rate, gosh, thanks guys! I had no idea. So I will try no to dissapoint yous all and I'll keep at it.
And, Mr. Tony C, you don't scare me with phone calls or personal visits. In fact, we'd love to see you. Do you have a pair of wire cutters?
Monday, April 10, 2006
A Swan Song of Sorts
Dear Readers,
I just wanted to let you all know that I'm going to semi-retire the Almost Quintessence blog.
It is fun to chronicle the anecdotes of daily life and especially interesting to read the insightful comments that follow. So I'm not just going to outright delete it. I may be back from time to time.
As it is, though, it tends to become a bit of a distraction from...oh...things like fixing the leaky roof, insulating the cold house, tending to the garden, etc. In short, I am going to shift attention completely rather than trying to give a little bit to this and a little bit to that and never enough to anything.
It would seem that farmer/writers can only be prolific in one thing.
So, there it is.
Thank you for shopping at Almost Quintessence.
Sincerely,
The Distracted Management
I just wanted to let you all know that I'm going to semi-retire the Almost Quintessence blog.
It is fun to chronicle the anecdotes of daily life and especially interesting to read the insightful comments that follow. So I'm not just going to outright delete it. I may be back from time to time.
As it is, though, it tends to become a bit of a distraction from...oh...things like fixing the leaky roof, insulating the cold house, tending to the garden, etc. In short, I am going to shift attention completely rather than trying to give a little bit to this and a little bit to that and never enough to anything.
It would seem that farmer/writers can only be prolific in one thing.
So, there it is.
Thank you for shopping at Almost Quintessence.
Sincerely,
The Distracted Management
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Here Lies...Lays...Is Lying...Um...
Guess what today is folks?
That's right! Write Your Own Epitaph Day!
Why, we can have so much fun with death, especially when it's our own!
How about a 4 liner? Non-rhyming.
Poor young Ms. Quintessece
was laid to an early rest
when the bull she was riding
decided 8 seconds was much too long.
I think I like that one. Maybe I'll use it regardless of how I die.
I did a quick search of some epitaphs on...
Wait. I have to stop here a moment and comment on just how hard it is to type the word epitaph let alone say it. When I say epitaph, I feel like I have 3 cotton balls on the tip of my tounge. Epitaph. Epitaph. Epitaph.
Ok, now back to our scheduled post.
...the internet and I found some rather interesting ones. For example...
Here lies a poor unfortunate who was victim of his own imprudence. Drop a tear on his tomb and say, if you please, a psalm 'out of the depths I have cried unto Thee, O Lord,' for his soul. He was only 27 years. 1798.
...and...
Here lies a miser who lived for himself, who cared
for nothing but gathering wealth. Now where he is and how he fares;
nobody knows and nobody cares
Those were both annonymous. But my favorite annonymous epitaph by far is this...
I was somebody.
Who, is no business
of yours
You gotta love that.
And now for some others.
Here lies the body
Of Margaret Bent
She kicked up her heels
And away she went.
Here lies the body
of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas pedal
Instead of the brake
Truth and History.
21 Men.
The Boy Bandit King --
He Died As He Lived.
(Billy the Kid)
My Trip is Ended.
Send My Samples Home.
(Thomas Campbell)
She failed her breathalizer test
now she lays with the best
(jeanine Custis)
She always said her feet were killing her but nobody believed her.
(Margaret Daniels)
Here lies the body of Martha Dias,
Who was always uneasy, and not over pious;
She lived to the age of three score and ten,
And gave that to the worms she refused to the men.
Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake
Who died for peace and quietness sake;
His wife was constantly scolding and scoffin;
So he sought for repose in a twelve-dollar coffin.
On the 22nd of June
Jonathan Fiddle
Went out of tune
So you all get the idea. Here's another one for me.
Here lies the famed Ms. Quintessence,
She died from a case of senescence.
Though her heart was just young,
Her body was done
And her brain - just complete obsolescence.
Go forth and write my good people!
That's right! Write Your Own Epitaph Day!
Why, we can have so much fun with death, especially when it's our own!
How about a 4 liner? Non-rhyming.
Poor young Ms. Quintessece
was laid to an early rest
when the bull she was riding
decided 8 seconds was much too long.
I think I like that one. Maybe I'll use it regardless of how I die.
I did a quick search of some epitaphs on...
Wait. I have to stop here a moment and comment on just how hard it is to type the word epitaph let alone say it. When I say epitaph, I feel like I have 3 cotton balls on the tip of my tounge. Epitaph. Epitaph. Epitaph.
Ok, now back to our scheduled post.
...the internet and I found some rather interesting ones. For example...
Here lies a poor unfortunate who was victim of his own imprudence. Drop a tear on his tomb and say, if you please, a psalm 'out of the depths I have cried unto Thee, O Lord,' for his soul. He was only 27 years. 1798.
...and...
Here lies a miser who lived for himself, who cared
for nothing but gathering wealth. Now where he is and how he fares;
nobody knows and nobody cares
Those were both annonymous. But my favorite annonymous epitaph by far is this...
I was somebody.
Who, is no business
of yours
You gotta love that.
And now for some others.
Here lies the body
Of Margaret Bent
She kicked up her heels
And away she went.
Here lies the body
of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas pedal
Instead of the brake
Truth and History.
21 Men.
The Boy Bandit King --
He Died As He Lived.
(Billy the Kid)
My Trip is Ended.
Send My Samples Home.
(Thomas Campbell)
She failed her breathalizer test
now she lays with the best
(jeanine Custis)
She always said her feet were killing her but nobody believed her.
(Margaret Daniels)
Here lies the body of Martha Dias,
Who was always uneasy, and not over pious;
She lived to the age of three score and ten,
And gave that to the worms she refused to the men.
Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake
Who died for peace and quietness sake;
His wife was constantly scolding and scoffin;
So he sought for repose in a twelve-dollar coffin.
On the 22nd of June
Jonathan Fiddle
Went out of tune
So you all get the idea. Here's another one for me.
Here lies the famed Ms. Quintessence,
She died from a case of senescence.
Though her heart was just young,
Her body was done
And her brain - just complete obsolescence.
Go forth and write my good people!
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Yeah...that's it...
Good morning everyone! Happy April 4th!
April 4th also happens to be Tell A Lie Day. So, in the spirit of duplicity, I am going to play along.
Here's how it works: I am going to tell a series of things and you have to pick out the lie in each. Ok? Sounds like tremendous fun, doesn't it?
Part I - Right now
1. I had no milk this morning...and by milk, I mean whole-100%-all-the-fat-left-in-it-milk...so rather than putting the 1%-poor-excuse-for-milk in my coffee, I opened a can of sweetened condensed milk and used that.
2. I am currently wrapped in a pink and blue fleece bathrobe of Southwestern pattern.
3. My daughter wore a tie to school today.
Ok, now you pick out the fib. See how it goes? Ok, let's have more fun!
Part II - At some point previous
1. I stole a turkey from the grocery store.
2. I stole a horse.
3. I stole away in the middle of the night to swim in a neighbor's pool.
Oooo...which one could it be? And aren't we surprised at the other two? Oh, Ms. Quintessence, we never would have guessed!
Part III - About my home
1. I've lost a cat in my house, never to be seen again.
2. It has 80 windows.
3. I broke into it before I bought it.
Hmmm...which could it be?
Part IV - About the people with whom I live
1. One has been on television at least 3 times.
2. One knew how to weld before the end of grade school.
3. One is currently fabricating a lawn cart out of an oil tank.
Getting harder and harder, isn't it?
Part V - My extended family (Sis, you can't tell the secret on this one)
1. One visited with Roger Daltry and Pete Townshend
2. One kept a horse in the garage.
3. One worked - as in real job - at a garage.
Ho ho! Which is the doosey?
Part VI - About my in-laws
1. One smashed his face on a tunnel whilst hitching a ride on a train.
2. One holds a patten for the little plastic thingies in dress shirt collars.
3. One worked as a translator for the armed forces.
Oh! They are all so possible. Or are they?
And last but not least...
Part VII - My job
1. I once had to walk back from a showing because I locked my keys in my car.
2. I once had to get into a house through a window - head first in a skirt - because I locked the keys to the house inside the house.
3. I once showed up late for an appointment because I stopped to save a giant snapping turtle that was trying to cross a 4 lane highway.
Uh oh...which could it be?
Ok, I will post the answers in the comments section so as not to spoil it for anyone.
And when you're done, go out and spread some deceit - but just refer to it as terminological inexactitude and you'll have no trouble.
Happy Tell A Lie Day!
April 4th also happens to be Tell A Lie Day. So, in the spirit of duplicity, I am going to play along.
Here's how it works: I am going to tell a series of things and you have to pick out the lie in each. Ok? Sounds like tremendous fun, doesn't it?
Part I - Right now
1. I had no milk this morning...and by milk, I mean whole-100%-all-the-fat-left-in-it-milk...so rather than putting the 1%-poor-excuse-for-milk in my coffee, I opened a can of sweetened condensed milk and used that.
2. I am currently wrapped in a pink and blue fleece bathrobe of Southwestern pattern.
3. My daughter wore a tie to school today.
Ok, now you pick out the fib. See how it goes? Ok, let's have more fun!
Part II - At some point previous
1. I stole a turkey from the grocery store.
2. I stole a horse.
3. I stole away in the middle of the night to swim in a neighbor's pool.
Oooo...which one could it be? And aren't we surprised at the other two? Oh, Ms. Quintessence, we never would have guessed!
Part III - About my home
1. I've lost a cat in my house, never to be seen again.
2. It has 80 windows.
3. I broke into it before I bought it.
Hmmm...which could it be?
Part IV - About the people with whom I live
1. One has been on television at least 3 times.
2. One knew how to weld before the end of grade school.
3. One is currently fabricating a lawn cart out of an oil tank.
Getting harder and harder, isn't it?
Part V - My extended family (Sis, you can't tell the secret on this one)
1. One visited with Roger Daltry and Pete Townshend
2. One kept a horse in the garage.
3. One worked - as in real job - at a garage.
Ho ho! Which is the doosey?
Part VI - About my in-laws
1. One smashed his face on a tunnel whilst hitching a ride on a train.
2. One holds a patten for the little plastic thingies in dress shirt collars.
3. One worked as a translator for the armed forces.
Oh! They are all so possible. Or are they?
And last but not least...
Part VII - My job
1. I once had to walk back from a showing because I locked my keys in my car.
2. I once had to get into a house through a window - head first in a skirt - because I locked the keys to the house inside the house.
3. I once showed up late for an appointment because I stopped to save a giant snapping turtle that was trying to cross a 4 lane highway.
Uh oh...which could it be?
Ok, I will post the answers in the comments section so as not to spoil it for anyone.
And when you're done, go out and spread some deceit - but just refer to it as terminological inexactitude and you'll have no trouble.
Happy Tell A Lie Day!
Saturday, April 01, 2006
The Early Fool Catches the Wind
Hi everyone.
It's 5:02am on April Fools's Day. It would seem as though I am the April Fool.
Why, you may ask, am I awake at 5:02am on April Fool's Day? Could it be that I am one of the last to fall revellers of Bunsen Burner Day, taking festivities right into the dawn of April?
No. That wouldn't be the answer.
I'm waiting for my turn in the shower.
And then I'm going to drive two and a half hours to an alternative energy fair where I will walk around with a husband with windmills in his eyes. My hubby gets windmills in his eyes the way greedy people get dollar signs in theirs. He'll be all full of amps and wind speeds and net metering and such.
Do you happen to know that at this very moment I have several 12 foot long fan blades in my yard? Hmmm?
These would be the fan blades he brought home from his new job.
Hubby: Hey there, Supervisor Guy. I see there's some 12 foot long fan blades in the junk pile.
Supervisor Guy: Why, yes. Yes indeed.
Hubby: Can I have them?
Supervisor Guy: What? Oh...erm...I...um...suppose so. What...uh...what might you want them for?
Hubby: I'm building a windmill of course.
Supervisor Guy: Wha....?
At least that's how I guess it went.
AS it turns out, there was another batch of 12 foot fan blades in the junk pile again this week. I asked hubby if he's going to take them too. You know, to open up a windmill parts place or something. He said they already buried them with other junk to keep, he thinks, the freaks from taking them home.
So, Happy April Fool's Day everyone. May it be full of practical jokes and alternative energy.
It's 5:02am on April Fools's Day. It would seem as though I am the April Fool.
Why, you may ask, am I awake at 5:02am on April Fool's Day? Could it be that I am one of the last to fall revellers of Bunsen Burner Day, taking festivities right into the dawn of April?
No. That wouldn't be the answer.
I'm waiting for my turn in the shower.
And then I'm going to drive two and a half hours to an alternative energy fair where I will walk around with a husband with windmills in his eyes. My hubby gets windmills in his eyes the way greedy people get dollar signs in theirs. He'll be all full of amps and wind speeds and net metering and such.
Do you happen to know that at this very moment I have several 12 foot long fan blades in my yard? Hmmm?
These would be the fan blades he brought home from his new job.
Hubby: Hey there, Supervisor Guy. I see there's some 12 foot long fan blades in the junk pile.
Supervisor Guy: Why, yes. Yes indeed.
Hubby: Can I have them?
Supervisor Guy: What? Oh...erm...I...um...suppose so. What...uh...what might you want them for?
Hubby: I'm building a windmill of course.
Supervisor Guy: Wha....?
At least that's how I guess it went.
AS it turns out, there was another batch of 12 foot fan blades in the junk pile again this week. I asked hubby if he's going to take them too. You know, to open up a windmill parts place or something. He said they already buried them with other junk to keep, he thinks, the freaks from taking them home.
So, Happy April Fool's Day everyone. May it be full of practical jokes and alternative energy.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
I Am Beginning to Sense a Pattern
Wtih my son, that is.
And that pattern would be checks. Or checkerboard. Whatever.
I give you example Number 1: the truck
When my son received his driver's permit, one of his uncles gave him a smallish truck. It needed a some work to smooth out the mechanics but, over all, it is a sound little thing. It wasn't too long after he had it that he dicided he wanted to...personalize it, I guess, by painting it. I can't tell you how many times I got the phone call "Um...I need more black paint." Or, "Um... I need more red paint."
Or...masking tape.
Lots and lots of masking tape.
Crates of masking tape.
Now, those of you who might know this kid know he has never exactly been the type to go out of his way to attract attention. So what, then, is this all about?
When you look up the word "tenacity" in the dictionary...yep, there's his picture.
On the bright side, he'll never be able to covertly wreak havoc in this vehicle. I have already heard from numerous people that "You just can't miss that truck driving through town..."
Now, I have to pause here to let you in on a funny little story. It just so happens that one day he locked his keys in the truck. This was a day that he had an event with the ski club. He called to let me know of his predicament and I told him that I get his dad and we'd head down and try to open it up. A little later, I was checking the messages on my cell phone and found this...
"Ummm...when you go to open up the truck...it's parked in the elementary school lot, right in front of the doors. Well, not right exactly in front. It's actually down from the doors a little bit but it's in the front row. It's more toward the flag pole. Ok."
...
Uh huh.
It's a BLACK AND RED CHECKERED truck. How could I have any trouble finding it?
Anyway...
Now for example Number 2: the suit
The high school recently had a film festival where the students were invited to make films for a competition. The winner walked away with a $1,000 savings bond. They pulled out all the stops, having a Friday evening showing with lovely programs and everything. The students were told that they would not be charged an entrance fee if they dressed up.
I guess this was all my son needed to hear. I have to say, he is one of the most frugal people I know. So frugal that he was willing to go out in public like this...
That's just plain brave if you ask me.
I began to wonder about this whole checkerboard thing. I tried to scour the internet to search what a checkerboard pattern might reveal about one's personality but, alas, the only thing I could come across were some tips on decorating a kitchen. As it is, my son should use toile de juoy fabrics for the windows and perhaps a rustic hickory finish on his cabinets.
Who knew?
I can just see trying to impart this bit of wisdom to him.
Me: So, you're remodeling your kitchen.
Son:...
Me: Are you going to use toile de juoy for your curtains?
Son:...
Me: Well, are you?
Son: Toile what???
Me: You know, toile de juoy. And a rustic hickory finish on your cabinets.
Son: I'm painting the cabinets plaid.
Ah, yes, I can see it all now.
And while I'm chatting you all up on my boy, I may as well get in a little bragging. This week National Honor Society and 13 out of 24 in his first ever motorcycle race. Yay!
What a kid.
And fear not, dear daughter...your day is coming. Oh yes...your day is coming...
And that pattern would be checks. Or checkerboard. Whatever.
I give you example Number 1: the truck
When my son received his driver's permit, one of his uncles gave him a smallish truck. It needed a some work to smooth out the mechanics but, over all, it is a sound little thing. It wasn't too long after he had it that he dicided he wanted to...personalize it, I guess, by painting it. I can't tell you how many times I got the phone call "Um...I need more black paint." Or, "Um... I need more red paint."
Or...masking tape.
Lots and lots of masking tape.
Crates of masking tape.
Now, those of you who might know this kid know he has never exactly been the type to go out of his way to attract attention. So what, then, is this all about?
When you look up the word "tenacity" in the dictionary...yep, there's his picture.
On the bright side, he'll never be able to covertly wreak havoc in this vehicle. I have already heard from numerous people that "You just can't miss that truck driving through town..."
Now, I have to pause here to let you in on a funny little story. It just so happens that one day he locked his keys in the truck. This was a day that he had an event with the ski club. He called to let me know of his predicament and I told him that I get his dad and we'd head down and try to open it up. A little later, I was checking the messages on my cell phone and found this...
"Ummm...when you go to open up the truck...it's parked in the elementary school lot, right in front of the doors. Well, not right exactly in front. It's actually down from the doors a little bit but it's in the front row. It's more toward the flag pole. Ok."
...
Uh huh.
It's a BLACK AND RED CHECKERED truck. How could I have any trouble finding it?
Anyway...
Now for example Number 2: the suit
The high school recently had a film festival where the students were invited to make films for a competition. The winner walked away with a $1,000 savings bond. They pulled out all the stops, having a Friday evening showing with lovely programs and everything. The students were told that they would not be charged an entrance fee if they dressed up.
I guess this was all my son needed to hear. I have to say, he is one of the most frugal people I know. So frugal that he was willing to go out in public like this...
That's just plain brave if you ask me.
I began to wonder about this whole checkerboard thing. I tried to scour the internet to search what a checkerboard pattern might reveal about one's personality but, alas, the only thing I could come across were some tips on decorating a kitchen. As it is, my son should use toile de juoy fabrics for the windows and perhaps a rustic hickory finish on his cabinets.
Who knew?
I can just see trying to impart this bit of wisdom to him.
Me: So, you're remodeling your kitchen.
Son:...
Me: Are you going to use toile de juoy for your curtains?
Son:...
Me: Well, are you?
Son: Toile what???
Me: You know, toile de juoy. And a rustic hickory finish on your cabinets.
Son: I'm painting the cabinets plaid.
Ah, yes, I can see it all now.
And while I'm chatting you all up on my boy, I may as well get in a little bragging. This week National Honor Society and 13 out of 24 in his first ever motorcycle race. Yay!
What a kid.
And fear not, dear daughter...your day is coming. Oh yes...your day is coming...
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Oh! The Iron(y)!
Long time, no post. I know. I know. Don't even start.
So the other night, hubby, daughter and I were lying about the living room watching a movie - I don't know what, we've been donig the Harold Lloyd marathon lately - when son poked his head in the door. He just kind of stood there for a couple minutes and then, in his own unique way of talking without actually moving his jaw even a fraction of an inch, said "Where is the irony?"
Which stopped me dead in my tracks.
Where is the irony?
What?
Is this my son? Is this my very own boy waxing linguistic? I mean, some days the deepest question I might get from him is "Are you going to be done in there soon?" as he waits impatiently on the other side of the bathroom door.
Where is the irony?
My husband paused the movie and, kind of in a slow-motion manner - at least it seemed that way - we all swung our world weary heads to this new teenage philosopher. We looked at him for what seemed an eternity, waiting, waiting for the next bit of prophecy.
Actually, it was probably only seconds until hubby said "What?"
And then my son, this young intelligentsia, this, this, disciple of reasoning, said a little more clearly...
"The iron. Where is it?"
Which, given the source, is just as amazing a question.
So the other night, hubby, daughter and I were lying about the living room watching a movie - I don't know what, we've been donig the Harold Lloyd marathon lately - when son poked his head in the door. He just kind of stood there for a couple minutes and then, in his own unique way of talking without actually moving his jaw even a fraction of an inch, said "Where is the irony?"
Which stopped me dead in my tracks.
Where is the irony?
What?
Is this my son? Is this my very own boy waxing linguistic? I mean, some days the deepest question I might get from him is "Are you going to be done in there soon?" as he waits impatiently on the other side of the bathroom door.
Where is the irony?
My husband paused the movie and, kind of in a slow-motion manner - at least it seemed that way - we all swung our world weary heads to this new teenage philosopher. We looked at him for what seemed an eternity, waiting, waiting for the next bit of prophecy.
Actually, it was probably only seconds until hubby said "What?"
And then my son, this young intelligentsia, this, this, disciple of reasoning, said a little more clearly...
"The iron. Where is it?"
Which, given the source, is just as amazing a question.
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