Nov 202012
 

This was my christmas post 2 years ago.  Things haven't changed.  I'm serious!! Except the ages of the girls, (18 and 21 now) and I will admit that Bonnie is dressing a little nicer.  She actually looks like an adult, finally.  As for my SIL, we're going to her house for Christmas, thank God, so I'm not going to worry about getting her stuff in the mail although I'm not sure we even mailed the gifts from last year.  I could be wrong.  I need to go check.

Oh and you can buy Stolz by the box of 250 caps from Amazon.  I swear by it now and so does my family.  That and hormones.  But that's another subject.  Right now I have to wrap my head around the fact that Thanksgiving is on Thursday.  Someone did this on purpose.  I'm hated and despised. I've barely gotten through Halloween.  I can't handle the holidays at this moment.  I'm retiring..., to New Zealand I think.  They don't have Thanksgiving.

Yeah, I still hate snow in the south.

 

First, I'd like to give you a recipe of mine.  It's great, oh my is it great.  Take a glass, put ice in it, pour a little cap of Stolz (pure caffeine) and then fill it with Dr. Pepper.  You could now take on the Green Lantern (coming soon to a theater near you) or clean your whole house in a matter of hours.  And I bet you thought I'd never give you any helpful information.

So..., Today, I realized that I don't remember what I got my family for Christmas.  It's not that hard really, I have two daughters, a husband of 25 years, a sister-in-law/brother-in-law.  Really, that's it.  We've had three parents pass away in the last two and a half years and my mom died 10 years ago and D's mom died way, way, way back when he was seven.

Don't feel bad for us - we manage always to keep a sense of humor and life goes on just like it should, besides it's a Hemingway thing.  One day I'll tell you all the things that have happened to me and you'll be able to tell your friends, "Wow, I know someone that happened to."  I'm a great conversation starter.

When my daughters were little, it was easy.  I just bought them what I wanted.  I could even take them with me and just tell them that the gift was for Nana and they believed me. 

And they want to be teachers, HA!

See, I was a girlie girl and they were so not girlie girls.  I bought them a barbie cruise ship once and they figured out how to take it apart and then push each other down the stairs in it.  Breaks my heart.  So don't feel too bad for them. They hung the barbies from the windows pretending they were escaping from monsters.

I've given up at this point.  They just send me a list via email and I buy those things but for the life of me, today, I couldn't remember if I had bought everything or where I had hidden it (laughable huh since they sent the list) or if I had wrapped it.  I have SIL's stuff on the dining room table and I swear something is missing and it's all wrapped so the only way I'll be able to tell is if I unwrap everything which I most certainly do not want to do.

And let me tell you, the things they do want are just WEIRD.  What is it with Dr. Who?? do they not realize that show is like a gazillion years old.  No, they did not just discover it. In case you're wondering, clothes are out.  They  both dress like they're from Berkeley (no offense, all you Berkleyites, I almost went to school there, explains a lot)

No, they're not twins. You have no idea how many times we get asked that.
16
19
Note the glasses - her eyesight is 20/25

 

snow in Virginia - I'm cursed

 

So it seems, the hiding, wrapping in secret, putting out toys at midnight, eating cookies and carrots, ringing bells outside was easy compared to this.  At least I knew what I was doing and if you think I'm exaggerating wait until you have a 16 and 19 year old.

Susan, who was informed today that the dogs need booties and sweaters.  In the SOUTH for goodness sake. Oh, yeah and we had snow AGAIN.

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Aug 242012
 

Have I mentioned that Carol has now decided that I have become a curmudgeon.  She's actually right.  I've reached that age. I've changed from flexible to "No, No, No and F*** No!"  I now understand why my parents had white furniture.  Why, you ask? Simply, because they could.  Who cares if they actually liked the color white? After 22 years of children and animals, they could finally own furniture that showed every speck of dirt.  Having no one but themselves to deal with, there was no dirt.  This also explains why my children were never allowed to touch anything in their house.

 

 

I certainly hope that I don't become that kind of grandparent.  I really do love and enjoy my kids, my god-kids, Liz's kids but sometimes  I do want to say, "You are not allowed to sit on my furniture, touch my stuff or walk on my floors, let alone pee in my bathrooms".  When you've decided you're through parenting, you're through.  Beerhound and I are through.

Emma will be 18 next month and starts her freshman year at ODU next week.  Bonnie will be 21 in October, is working full-time and has returned to college for her junior year.  She and the boy are diligently saving money so that they can move out and in together.  Regardless of your moral values, mine don't count, she's my kid, you'd be happy to see her go if she was your child.  I love her.  I adore her.  She is one of my best friends.  But she needs to move Out Of My House as soon as possible.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to quietly rid myself of 4 guinea pigs, 5 cats, 3 dogs and one fish without being hunted down by PETA or called a cold blooded pet killer by my daughters.  I finally invested in scat mats, (electric shock mats that run on batteries) and placed them on every couch and chair I own.  They not only rid us of unwanted guests but they keep the animals off all my furniture.  I also purchased compressed, motion detector spray cans that spray a very fine mist of water and make a loud noise whenever anyone comes with in two feet of them.  I  placed them strategically throughout the house.  Beerhound, Bonnie and Emma aren't exactly thrilled with our newly booby trapped house and it freaks the boy out but why do I care?  I only brought one of these animals home and she is on her last legs, sweet darling.  She's never given us one moment of trouble.

 

 

And, of course, I do own a horse, actually two now since Emma is getting ready to buy her own.  But, the beauty of horses is that they live somewhere else, outside, in their own homes.  They poop and pee on the ground and they never scratch furniture.  They certainly never dig through the kitty litter, the trash, the bathroom trash cans (don't gag, every single woman has had the experience if she has owned a dog), eat the food off your plate when you are not looking, eat your homework (our cat Harper infamous for that particular evil, no really) or ruin your furniture.  You think horses are expensive?  Trust me, Makenna costs me less than replacing the thousand dollars worth of shoes, rugs, underwear, carpets, books and furniture (never forget the wall trim that Rue has chewed through)  that have been destroyed by our loving animal companions  - let's just list them for fun - Lexie, Beau, Rue, Beanie, Bear, Maya, Harper, Oliver and satan's child Duncan, who finally passed away two months ago.  Oh and the pigs, Yeshi, Amelia Pond, Rory and Lulu.  I don't know what the hell the fish is called and he hasn't really done anything destructive but I'm not holding my breath.

Beautiful and mows grass

 

Here is where I suddenly change direction in my discourse to allow for information that I originally wanted to pass along to you.  You knew it was coming didn't you?  If you didn't and I've confused you, don't worry.  I don't care.  I'm 50 now.  I don't really care what anyone thinks about my writing at this point.  Take it from me, a lesson from one woman to another.  You shouldn't care either.  You'd be surprised at how much more relaxing and enjoyable life is when you give up all pretense of trying to please others and gain admiration for your accomplishments.  I actually feel free to clean my house in the nude now.

Carol and I have decided to change the format of our blog.  We will now have only three pages to view, Who We Are, Advertising and Emma's Corner.  Everything else will be written as a normal blog.  We will still write about recipes, especially for diabetics.  Carol is borderline diabetic and I am a diabetic.  I will still write about my passions because I love it when someone else turns me onto something that enhances my life, my life at 50 not my life at 25.  I don't personally care about the newest baby products, child informative news or 25 things someone learned when they turned 25.  Really??? I don't mean to be dismissive but the first 10 years don't count because most people can't remember them.  The teenage years are just a waste of time and filled with angst and I guarantee there is nothing a 25 year old can teach me about life.  I"m past that point.  I do have plenty of advice to offer concerning teenagers, young adults, menopause and long-term marriage and Carol is in the tween/teen stage.  I will still post cocktail reviews and instructions.  I'm not driving a minivan anymore so drinking a good cocktail is a highlight for me.  Plus Emma is trying to practice bartending so at some point she will be able to support herself through graduate school.

 This of course, taking place, after she joins the Peace Corp, trying to drag her with me.  Bonnie is planning on joining the Peace Corp also.  I've already told them my limitations.  Europe sounds good to me but none of those "stan" places and don't even mention Russia.  They don't like p***y there or vaginas.  We have enough problems here in the U.S. trying to battle the brainless men of  Romney and Ryan land.  They don't seem to hold vaginas in high regard either.  In any case,  I don't think they have all the amenities I need.  I'm a curmudgeon, remember.

We will also be writing concerning issues that we believe should be out in the open for discussion.  We want your feedback.  But then again, I don't think either one of us will ever lose our sarcastic view of the world or even our families for that matter.  Humor is worth living for.

Hopefully, this will cut down our workload and make the blog easier for you to read and enjoy.  Ultimately, we're just busy and lazy but we love our blog and would never consider giving it up.

 

Susan - who know needs to go bag up dirty clothes for the laundromat because Beerhound insists on researching dryers before we actually purchase one. Which takes very careful attention and several weeks. Idiot boy.

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Jul 312012
 

It's been a while and I do vaguely remember saying that I would post some pictures after we came back from horse hunting.  Sounds funny doesn't it, "horse hunting".  My friend Stewart would get a kick out that because he's a big hunter while I, on the other hand, am a huge supporter of gun control.  Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against hunting, just not people hunting people.

I'm really off track here aren't I? and I have enough to say about gun control to fill this particular post but I'll let it slide for today.

We went horse hunting two weeks ago and it has taken me two weeks to recover.  Where do I start?  This is going to take a few posts to relate the road trip from hell and trust me I've been stuck in a truck with no air conditioning driving from Colorado to Las Vegas in August with Beerhound when I only weighed 128 pounds at 5'9".  I couldn't afford to lose one more pound.  I think I lost 10 pounds in sweat alone.  Wonderful trip and yet we still got married.  I'm not that much into signs, can you tell?

I'm going to bullet form here.  That way I can come back and really make you snort coffee and thank the sky above that you are not me.

* A Ford Excursion with a rented horse trailer attached, higgledy piggledy, because of the wonderful store we rented from.

* Liz, me, Emma and in the middle, three children 5, 4, and 1.  Who would alternately love you or stab you depending on their moods. Emma and I love them but seriously, think, children of the corn and they all have the biggest blue eyes you have ever seen.

*We were on the road for over 12 hours.

*Because Nuvi doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground.  I don't care how many stars she gets on Amazon.  We took back-roads I didn't even know existed and drove past homes that resembled my mom's family (think deliverance) in North Carolina.

*It thundered and rained, lightening flashing everywhere.

*The kids found a huge horse trough and all three got in while I wasn't watching so they got to ride naked in their car seats.  No, we forgot to bring extra clothes, so shoot us.

*Emma got car sick for the first time in her life.

*She could only get out of the car through the back window.

*She bought the kid's markers and coloring books.  They decided to draw on each other, themselves and the baby.

*I left my $1400.00 camera at one of the farms where we looked at a horse that was only a third of that price.  I'm still waiting for them to mail it to me. (They were really nice, so I'm not worried but still I could of kicked myself all the way home).

*I eventually was forced to pee in the horse trailer on the hay because Nuvi had taken us to the only area in the world uninhabited by humans.  Does that make me a true cow woman?? The bad news, I had to pee in a horse trailer, in a horse trailer, again, in a horse trailer.  The good news, I learned how to pee standing up in college (come on like none of you didn't, puleeeze).  I've still got it.  So I did do a fist pump when I came out of the trailer.  Bad knees and all, I've still got it.

*At one point, we stopped at an overlook to see the Shenandoah valley.  It was gorgeous.  We all looked like white trash and I'd prove it to you if I had taken pictures but that's when I realized I left my camera at the first barn, 9 hours later so there was no turning around.

*Did Emma find a horse?  Why yes she did, thank you.  The next day, at a friends barn, less than 15 minutes from Liz's barn.

*Her name is Maggie Mae.  Which, just for information sake, has forced me to change my Maggie to McKenna.  That is fine by me since I didn't really like the name Maggie and I love Gaelic names.

By the way, I would never knowingly throw two small children and a baby in a car for a 12 hour drive.  Neither would Liz.  Let's just say Nuvi fucked us over.  I can't be sure but I think she wants to marry Liz's husband, who is this super buff, cute, young diver.  She was trying to get us lost, kidnapped and thrown into some breeding program (again, think deliverance) that can only be found in the backwoods of Virginia.  Seriously.  One day I'll post pictures of my mom's family and let you decide for yourselves.

 

Maggie Mae

 

 

 

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