04 May 2014

History Class Blues...

     It's difficult to enjoy a class that you hate for whatever reason. I've been aware that our daughter, Erin, despised her American History class, but didn't dislike her teacher.  She's been pretty vocal about her aversion to studying about the World Wars.  So it came as no surprise that the letter she's required to write in class to tell her parents/teacher how she feels about what and how she is doing, was along those lines. However, her dry sense of humor caught me by surprise. At least she's honest. (I wish all things could be fixed with afternoon tea)
...I think that WWII is depressing and that humans are horrible and people should just go eat ice cream, cookies, cake, candy and drink tea and coffee. Mostly tea though...
QOTD: "There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea." ~ Bernard-Paul Heroux , Philosopher

02 May 2014

The Quilting Zombies...

     Now I have been quilting alone for over 25 years and have never once looked for a quilting club to join.  For some reason I can't fathom, I have panic attacks just thinking about what lies behind those doors... why are there so many people and why are they congregating and what could they possibly be doing for so long? Are they just talking and sewing or sizing up the local supply of new zombie recruits?  I can't imagine anything more scary than and eighty year old woman with a sharp pair of scissors in one hand and a really sharp needle in the other that's been turned into the walking dead! 

     Maybe that's just me and I'm missing out on some scintillating conversation with wonderful, kind people who are not related to me in some way.  I wonder if they check your quilting and if you pass muster, they don't let the zombies touch you? Like getting a pass or a 'get out of jail free' card. (Sigh. making lemonade, making lemonade, making lemonade...)

     Seriously, I don't think I'd be a good candidate.  I've heard horror stories about the politics that reign in places like that and I've never been one to mince words or hold back caustic commentary for idiots with "click-itis".  (probably not a trait that zombies are looking for... hopefully)

     Sorry, I know I have zombies on my mind, but I can't seem to shake them.  Time to institute plan B... go bug my husband and kids.  They are always around to put something equally bizarre into my head without the possibility of becoming the undead...

...and then there is always safety in numbers... just sayin'...

30 April 2014

The Most Amazing Discovery...

12 Nov 2010
Email from Me to my Husband: Honey, I’ve made the most amazing discovery!  There are other homo sapiens like you (other than our kids) after all.  I am sure you are so relieved!  Just look!

From Laura of Fetch My Flying Monkeys
J is a freedom-hating-Michael Kors-loathing Nazi and here's proof.

J: "I want you to take my credit card on vacation with you. I want you to only use in it in case there's an emergency." Hands me a black card.

Me: "Sweeeeet."

J: "Umm Laura, an emergency only, okay?"

Me: "Okay." Fondles card. "My Preciousssss."

J: "Maybe we should go over what constitutes an emergency."

Me: "If I see a Michael Kors purse 50% or more off."

J: "No, Laura. I was thinking about if there's an emergency on the road traveling."

Me: "So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand and they're selling Michael Kors purses 50% or more off."

J: "No. Do not use it to buy a Michael Kors purse."

Me: "Okay. So we're driving down the road and there's a roadside stand selling otters, and for every otter you buy you get a free Michael Kors purse."

J: --

Me: "Two free Michael Kors purses per otter?"

J: "I'm not kidding, Laura. Use it for emergencies ONLY."

Me: "Like in case there's a zombie attack?"

J: Sighs. "Zombie attacks would constitute as an emergency, yes."

Me: "Like for buying weapons, right?"

J: "Yes, you can buy weapons on it in case of zombie attack."

Me: "And bullets? Lots of bullets?"

J: "Yes. In case of zombie attack you can use it for weapons and lots of bullets."

Me: "And a Michael Kors purse to keep the bullets in?"

J: "Give me my card back."

Me to Husband: Honey, I am also sending a copy of this post to our (five) daughters (who are convinced a zombie invasion is imminent) just to make sure they are prepared. Gotta tell them to make sure they get a Michael Kors purse to put the bullets in... then, it's not a purse, it's a supply chest... Right?

Husband: Who is Michael Kors, and will a purse made by him hold a chainsaw and/or M249 SAW magazine? How many nadgrenades can it hold? Are the seams double stitched so it won't spill my 12 gauge rounds while knocking down zombies with it? 

Me: What are nadgrenades?

Husband: Sorry typo on a small keyboard, insert hand grenades, either GP (general purpose) or white phosphorus...

Me: This one would be PERFECT!!!  MICHAEL KORS Darrington Shoulder Tote, Taupe  995.00

(That would be the amount of American dollars required to acquire said specimen. Zombies optional.) Since we have five daughters and myself... we'd need six of them... but wait!  It's taupe!  It would look fabulous with any of your fashionable desert camouflage wardrobe... In that case then, we would need 7 of these babies, please. Since you ARE currently stuck in Las Vegas, perhaps you could take advantage of the opportunity to earn a few extra dollars shakin' your bootie?

your wife and daughters...

Husband: Bootie? I think I broke it, however if you allow me to withdraw the mortgage money, I'm sure I can double it...

Me: Sigh.  Well, if your bootie is broken, perhaps you could rent yourself out as an executive level escort?  As for the mortgage money, no.  We really do need to buy these Michael Kor Handbags with money not already earmarked for current expenses.  This is strictly so that we can be ready for when the Zombies DO attack.  I do believe we will have a little time for you to work the magic of your sparkling personality.

Husband: I am too old for an "escort service".  I have thought about a side job as a thong model, perhaps some conservative right-wing loud mouth will pay me in a subtle reverse psychology attack on the male undergarment industry.

Me: A thong model? Hmmmm.  That sounds like it has potential... How soon do you think you could get started?  I, personally, would not pay for the thongs, but the pictures DO sound like they might have promise....

Husband: As soon as...

A. I can find one in green (of course).
B. Get limber enough to strut properly, probably not any time soon.
C. File the necessary environmental impact statement. It's Friday the day after a federal holiday, I'm sure the EPA is swamped.

Me: Why would you need an environmental impact statement?  Afraid to shock the squirrels?  Scare the bears?  Besides, I think you'll look much better in a thong than I will...

Husband: Not according to the maid…

Me: OK.  I guess I need to become resigned about our inability to fend off the zombies....

Husband: Just rethink the plan. We don't have children, we have 5 opportunities to distract them...

Me: Riiiiggght.  Unfortunately, "Don't worry... the zombies are looking for brains.  You're safe." only applies to our daughters and I really didn't want to have to sacrifice you like that... Sentimental reasons, you know.  Thirty years and you've kinda grown on me.  I have you trained almost to perfection.  Still... I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl’s gotta do...

28 April 2014

Who Knew That Starting A Business Meant You Still Have To Work?

My cat has commandeered my work table for the moment so I thought I'd let her stay there while I cogitate on my life at the moment.

I have been wondering lately where all my time has gone. I've decided that 'To-Do Lists' rock. I've decided that owning your own business means you have to work very long days. And if you have a cat, you'll never be alone, unless it's sustenance time. 

(has anyone ever pondered the word, 'business'/busy-ness', just a stray thought, carry on...) 

I've also learned that I lose track of time while I'm working because I absolutely love what I'm doing. So although the work week can sometimes be 60-70 hours... life is good.

Some other lessons learned:
If your business involves thread or yarn, devise other entertainment for your cat.
If you have a window, and your table is in front of it, be sure to have a cushion for your cat, or you will have a feline paper weight.
If your current project involves cutting, buy a pair of black scissors. Cats believe "attack shiney things first, ask questions later" is the only modis operandi to live by. (Actually, that pretty much covers all things concerning cats who have not been worn out by the mouse on a string/stick trick.)
Never put a drink anywhere near documents that are required to be sent yesterday. Especially if you forgot to back it up on your computer. (I believe this is Murphy's Law domain) 
Vacuuming a cat is not a good idea, and even if you manage it, cat hair will still somehow be on everything you are working on. (I wonder if cats have a 'shed on demand' ability so they can stand on whatever they want and shed only there.)
A basket of fabric becomes a cat bed every time if it does not have something on it to prevent this. Cat's do not care if you are working your way through it before it settles in for a nap. Actually, baskets, boxes, low shelving and drawers left open also seem to be fair game.
Well, that's just a drop in the bucket of lessons learned, but I really must fight my cat for my work table get to work now. 

QOTD: "The problem with the rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat." ~ Lilly Tomlin

18 April 2014

Ah, The Perils Of Being A Woman...

I had to go pick up Erin from school and although I truly empathized with her, I had to laugh at her text to me:

Erin: Mom?
Me: Yes?
Erin: Can you come get me? Cramps really bad. No Midol. Hurt. Pain.
A few seconds later.
Erin: Contemplating ripping out ovaries.
Had to stop laughing long enough to text without my hands shaking.

Me: On my way.
On the way home:
Erin: "I wish I were a guy. They don't have to deal with periods."
Me: "No, they just have to deal with the women who do.  Ask your father about it.  I can't tell you how often he's called before coming home just to find out whether he should wear the kevlar. (5 daughters will do that to you). At least he has a good sense of humor about it. 
Now that I think about it, guys also have the problem of needing to be able to know when not to cross the threshold without a chocolate sacrifice. I think I like being a woman more than I would a man. (I'd also hate to be wrong all the time).

QOTD: Why Periods? Why can't Mother Nature just text me and be like "Waddup girl, you ain't pregnant. Have a great week. Talk to you next month."? ~ unknown