Saturday, August 30, 2008
Hope your Labor Day holiday is everything you're hoping for, talk to you when I return.
Monday, August 25, 2008
of fried Twinkies, Snickers and new this year, Fried Pepsi. Don't even ask, I didn't try it and I didn't see any of it either, so I can't begin to describe what this concoction might be.
This little boy looks like he's never seen a cow before. Yes, even here among the corn fields and soybeans there are real people who've never experienced livestock. Which I find incredibly hard to believe.
This little girl, wearing her Indianapolis Colts Cheerleader outfit, upstaged the clown band and danced like nobody was watching.
But everybody was. The band had to start interacting with her to regain some of the spotlight.
Then there was this in the midway.....
Isn't that freakin' hilarious?! Nuns on the midway! Trying their hands at some games of chance to win giant bears and goldfish. I hope that Carnie treated them right, Lord help him if he didn't.
I tried to be discreet with my camera, but they must have known how out of place they looked.
I suppose the midway would probably be a good spot for some good olde fashioned ministry. Lot's of seedy business going on there. Maybe they were there to pray with people before they got on one of those death traps, uh, er, I mean carnival rides. Tilt-a-whirl anyone?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
My husband and I had been gone all day, Farley was confined to the kitchen, who knows how long the floor grate/register vent cover had been dangling around his neck. But he was cool. Just sitting there watching me stumble in the door, blood dripping down my leg, laughing at his predicament. I'm sure in his own doggy way, he was laughing at mine. However, because I have opposable thumbs, I had to take pictures of his situation before I even went to resolve my own. Now don't get all Peta on me, the floor grate is extremely light weight and he weighs 115lbs. So, he was fine, it was funny. What made it even funnier is how lackadaisical he was about it. He's all, you know, I wear these things all the time. The ladies call me Flavor Farley.He's a dood boooyeeee! Dood doge! Needless to say, I removed the offending vent cover. I eventually mopped up the carnage on my leg and I showed these pics to my huz when he got home. We called him Flavor Farley all night. Peace Out.
Monday, August 18, 2008
I was supposed to get a needle stuck in my neck this week to biopsy a couple of suspicious thyroid nodules. Just got a call from the doc saying they were nixing the biopsy because the radiologist who looked at my ultrasound photos thinks we should just re-ultrasound in 6 months to see if the nodules change size. There were no calcification's on the nodules, which means my nodules are leaning to the benign category. Hooray! I was not looking forward to being stabbed in the neck! Maybe some of you have had a thyroid issue? Any tips?
Also, I am so excited! I just signed up for a "Photoshop Basics" class! It's an eight week class for, get this, $139! 6:30-9pm every Tuesday. I went to Half-Price Books and bought all the Photoshop books/bibles I could get my hands on. It's going to be awesome!
My mare is having her final cisplatin injection this week and she gets to come home! Yay! My farrier graciously offered to haul her home on his way to a cutting show. It's really a big pain in the rear that we don't own a pick-up or horse trailer. It seems like she goes to Purdue for treatment once a year, at least. I hate wrangling rides and inconveniencing other people.
That's about it for today. Prepare yourselves for State Fair photos..next time.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
You have no idea what you're missing. Here's the link to a trailer....now, go to Encore and find the next showing. You don't have cable? Fine then. Go rent it. It's sooo worth it.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Remember the beer I mentioned? My little bro doesn't usually drink much but he has to get thru cornhole somehow.
My huz pondering a loss. It's serious competition.
Whew! The agony of defeat.
My brother does not care in the least.
We're getting together next weekend at the lake. The boys are tearing out the old dock. I'll be sure to capture the whole crazy fiasco, uh, er, I mean the whole manly display of ingenuity. Right. Stay tuned.
P.S. Mare Update: She's still at Purdue University. The results came back from histopathology, it was squamous cell again (I'm not surprised at all). They have administered one Cisplatin treatment, are also treating topically with Efudex. Another Cisplatin injection will happen next week. She's is healing up fine from the surgery. A little bit of banamine from time to time to keep her comfortable, think, horsey Vicodin. I'll keep you posted. Sounds like she'll be home in a week or so.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
This near the Superstition Mountains in Arizona.
Mya having a dreaded bath. She hates it.
Riding Dixie last fall. I love this photo.
And this one....
Since my mare is sequestered to the far reaches of Lafayette, Indiana, I miss her.
They called to tell me how much her hospital bill is so far...don't ask. She's worth it.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
She's gittin' my itchy spot! Oh yeah!
Checkin' out the scene of the crime.
Okay, seriously mom, enough with the camera.
Oh yeah, did you see the sexy, gigantic jumpsuit I had to wear into her stall? Mmmhhhhmm you know it. Right after I left her stall they handed me a helmet and I boarded Apollo 13.
Cross your fingers for us! And send money!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
So, I'm sitting on my couch. Right now. And this just happened about 15 minutes ago. My husbands 115 lb. yellow lab just horked his morning breakfast up all over my new wool rug. Yep.
Some questions immediately came to mind; Am I going to have to clean up this flood of digested dog food because my husband isn't home from work yet? Could I possibly leave it there until he gets home? Stop..it was just a thought, okay? I didn't really leave it there. So in the most exciting voice I could muster I urged him outside so he would think it was the best idea ever instead of hanging around and puking some more. Then I had to use my noodle and figure out the best way of extracting said dog vomit without mashing it down into the rug...hhmmmm. Why, I'll use a spatula, of course! Who wouldn't use a spatula? Geez Louise I am full of ingenuity!
Let me tell you, it worked like a charm. I picked the oldest, least often used spatula in my kitchen. And when I was done I put it in the dishwasher. What!? Why waste a perfectly good spatula?
Dog Hork Clean Up 101: Spatulate (see, ingenuity!) dog vomit, spray area with deodorizer and stain remover, blot dry. Voila!
Other Spatuletic activity: see photo
Remember back when I was campaigning to say the "F" word more frequently because I should unabashedly say whatever I wanted? Well, I think I'm over that. I kind of think I'd rather save it for special occasions or get rid of it altogether...well, maybe not altogether. Just much less usage. My previous work environment fostered such language, nurtured it even. Now that I'm away from that train wreck it seems a little inappropriate that's all.
My clock is ticking. You know, the biological one? Yeah, I've got all kinds of baby mama lust. Everywhere I look there are babies or pregnant bellies. There was a time when I wondered if I was the marriage/family type. Since I'm on my second marriage, I guess I like getting married. You know Boo and I are going to start "trying" this month. I hate to say we're "trying." It's more like "unbridled recklessness the likes of which we've never experienced." So, we'll see what happens. Stay tuned!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Maybe I 'd better clarify. Listening to this music takes me back to the root of who I am, how I was raised and where I come from. For the past few years I have become a slick, polished, smartypants career gal who buys too many clothes and shoes. Just the other day I was considering purchasing a pair of $200 jeans. I promise they didn't have platinum stitching or gold coins in the pockets. In fact, they looked pretty much like my GAP jeans...with a different tag sewn to the rear. But my rationale was, I deserve these jeans I've earned a treat, they'll look even better on my ass than Levi's. That's when (thank heavens) my alter ego showed up and smacked me upside the head. She told my slick self imagine what you could spend $200 on. It doesn't make any kind of good sense to blow it on a single pair of jeans, you tard. And amazingly my smartypants self listened to her. Walked out of the store.
Living in the city is sort of like constant peer pressure. Boo and I live on the northside of our major city. It's the more affluent side of town I guess. It wasn't my choice mind you..Boo already owned this house when we got hitched. And we aren't right in the thick of the yuppies, thank the angels. To illustrate my point; my sales territory is on the westside. All the little rural towns are over there. As I drove around today I noticed lots of pick-up trucks and hard working sweaty men. I like pickups and sweaty men. Then I started driving home and the closer I got to the northside, the pickups turned into SUV's (the fancy kinds) Mercedes, Lexus and Beemers mostly carrying men in white collared shirts with ties. There was more pavement, upscale shopping areas, and not so many trees. Now, I want to own up to the fact that my husband drives a Lexus, but he bought it pre-owned and plans to drive it into eternity. And we're going to pay it off this year.
But still. It's like a fancy car is a prerequisite to live on the northside. And fancy jeans, and shoes and Pottery Barn and Barnes and Noble...and I get sucked in because I forget that the real world lies beyond the city limits, down a winding road, over the hill and around the bend as you head into the trees. That's where I come from. That's where I am me. I catch glimpses of me sometimes and I want to grab that girls arm and say hey, take me with you.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Anyway, we had a screened in patio that I practically lived in while I was growing up. One side faced east and I could see cars coming down the road (which was kind of an event because I lived on a slow county road) and the other side faced the woods, where all the magic lived. I could sit there all day listening to the sounds of the woods. Birds singing, squirrels chattering, an occasional mysterious crashing through brush (maybe a deer passing thru? or raccoons? squirrels miscalculating a jump?). Nighttime was the best, after the heat of the day faded into comfortable night air, cool, but warm..does that make sense? The kind of summer night air that caresses your skin and makes you close your eyes and breathe it all in. I'd just sit out there on the sofa, in the dark, by myself and listen to the woods. Locust (cicadas?) were typically the first
to begin their chik chik buzzzz see-saw rhythm. Mom called them "back-to-school locust." After the sun dropped below the horizon the crickets would commence the chirping and the nightbirds would warble...and there are also some crazy little tree frogs that could screech like something you've never heard before. Teen weeny things, big noise. I loved sitting out there. It was my solace and retreat. As a teen I'd sleep out there on the sofa every chance I got. The nights it rained were heaven, ahhh. I loved that patio. I loved that woods. Kinda bittersweet thinking about it now. The house was sold when my parents divorced. I was 24 when that happened. They sold the house and had a big auction. While strangers were perusing our things, our memories in the yard, I snuck off into the woods. I walked down the trail to the ash tree by the creek where all of my childhood pets are buried and cried. Cried for my pets, cried for losing my childhood home, cried for the break-up of my dysfunctional family, cried for the unfairness of it all. Cried because the auctioneer just sold my big old dollhouse for five dollars by mistake. And I mostly blame my dad for all of it.
I drive past the old place every now and then, when I'm out that way, it looks different...sort of overgrown. All the trees we planted are full grown now, the woods looks unattended to. My dad always kept the trails mowed. One of these days I'll pull off to the side of the road and wander into the woods just to see if any magic still lives there.