A Little Pressure

As I’ve mentioned before, I work with men. Usually, there are only three in my office, then there are four who spend most of their days either in fields, or in the shop. Right now we have extra men roaming the property because they’re adding onto one of our storage facilities. There are about six of these guys. The men who don’t work directly in the office building, still manage to come in frequently for breaks or whatnot (the bathroom is in here, as well as the vending machines).

One of my office co-workers has this.

Yesterday, he decided to be funny. The manager in charge of the new construction was in the office making some phone calls. I and my “roommate” (what I call the guy who shares my space) , and this jokester put the “noisy” part of this toy in our office. Then, he proceeded to remotely activate it while sitting across the building in his office. We have big glass windows between the three offices, so we can see each other. I can’t see the guy making the phone calls, but the others can… they say he keeps looking at our office with a puzzled look on his face. We’re biting our tongues trying not to bust out laughing. Then…the “roommate” leaves the building! Yeah, you know what’s coming next… ppppffffftttt….!

They figure when this guy got off the phone he probably went outside and said, “I don’t know HOW those guys can stand to be in the office with that woman! She was farting up a STORM!”

About 5 minutes ago the plant manager (the one with the toy) put it in his pocket and he and my “roommate”were going to go out and just walk through the construction… and he was going to bend over and let ‘er rip… maybe now they won’t think it’s ME anymore…! Then again…

I Missed It!

Oh. My. God. I can’t believe it. I missed it. Me. The Queen of the Calendars. The Appointment Diva. The “One Who Remembers Your Birthday When You Don’t“.

I missed my blog-versary! A year ago, August 26, I started this journey into cyberspace. A year. That’s longer than I’ve stuck by almost any diet thing in my life (excluding kids and Hubby, of course!) As with you, this space as evolved…most of you now intimately familiar with my family and extended family and ex-tended family. Some of you originally thought it seemed sappy and sentimental and have since learned although I am sappy and sentimental, I’m also bitter and bitchy and sarcastic and oh-so-wise-beyond-my-years. (Just checking to see if you were still here.)

We’ve gone back and forth with tales of critters and grandcritters and children and grandchild and gardens and weather and crisis and contentment. What a hodgepodge a year makes! I started this mostly for myself… a kind of on-line secret diary that I figured no one in my real life would ever find. Silly me. I forgot I have friends like bloodhounds and one daughter who is my clone. Still, I’ve prided myself on trying not to let that deter what I say or how I say it. I figure they know me well enough to let the fur fly where it may.

Ironically enough, I’m not a people-person in real life, but in this media I’ve found I enjoy hearing from others and reading about others’ lives. I enjoy the validation I get in comments and e-mails that my opinion does matter and gee…someone besides me “gets” my MIL. That we all have co-workers that are disgusting or we can commiserate when a mommy has to go back to work or cheer when someone has a beautiful friendship blossom into a relationship. Although we all walk on tip-toes when it comes to discussing co-workers, some of us have paid the ultimate price for this honesty. To share in another’s unbounded joy or someone’s heartbreak. A blessing in disguise? A warning? Or just a chance for us to send out virtual hugs…? I’ve found people I consider friends, although I’ve never met them. Some of them almost a spiritual twining. I’ve seen pictures of people young enough to be my kids, with kids of their own. I’ve had contact with people from coast to coast and listened to some of the bravest, most honest (and sometimes disturbing ) stories from some of the most talented writers I’ve ever had the privilege to read. Some people I’ve just found and I know as time goes on I’ll find more. I’m just having so much fun sharing your lives and your stories. I want to thank you.

Wow. A year. Those of you with kids or debilitating illness can understand how quickly that can go by. I can’t believe I’ve been sitting here spitting all this out into cyberspace like some three-day-old undercooked chicken. You’d think it would end sometime, huh? Lucky for you… I’ve still got words.

Cracking the Egg Pt.II

Once upon a time – about 26 years ago -I had a girlfriend who was dating my someday-to-be BIL. She was a gold-digger. A “me-me-me” woman. One thing on her mind. It wasn’t all her fault. Her father had raised her and her sister to look out for “Number One” first. That was her goal. Marry money, to heck with love.

BIL wasn’t rich, by any means, but he did have a good job and was still in his 20’s and living with his parents. He tried to give this girl anything she wanted. Remember, this was the late 70’s… she wanted a rabbit fur jacket. He got it for her. She gloated. She would go on and on about this dumb guy who would buy her anything… then she was planning on breaking up with him when she got what she wanted.

I’m no moral compass, believe me, but I don’t like to see people taken advantage of. That just is a pet peeve of mine. By this time, I’d met his brother – my someday-to-be Hubby. I fell fast and hard – and, according to him – he did too. I felt especially protective of BIL because I knew this girl and felt he was really being taken for a ride.

So, I spilled the beans. I got him aside one night when we were at the state fair and had spent a little too much time in the cattleman’s bar. I was feeling particularily protective, because I’d just gotten reamed out by one of Hubby’s friends about not taking advantage of him and BIL had actually come to my rescue! I confided in him that K was taking him for a big ride. He cried. I think he really had come to love her… but I thought at that moment we truly bonded.

Flash forward 20 years.

I’ve put up with BIL’s B.S. for years. Tolerated the fact that he doesn’t respect my husband one iota. Tolerated his brats boys. Tolerated his Barnum-and-Bailey in-laws and his witchy wife. But I won’t tolerate him telling Hubby that he “never really got over that stuff in ’95 and he’ll put up with me, and try to be nice to me when we’re together, but he really doesn’t like me anymore”.

Go Bite Yourself HARD. Like I need your approval, you pompous ass. You and your wife are the biggest hypocondriacs there are in this town, yet when someone has a real, live, debilitating illness, all you can do is go with the gossip-mongers and choose to believe your brother’s wife stepped out on him . You asshat.

Someday this is going to come out. We all try to ‘play nice’ because of MIL, but we avoid each other like the plague. I refuse to feel like a reject because part of my family can’t relate to real human pain. Guess what? I don’t care. I feel badly that I should be kinder to my husband’s family – I’m an only child and don’t have anyone except my parents that he has to put up with. It would bother me more, except I know he’s relating to what I’m feeling. He says his brother isn’t bad – by himself – but get him anywhere around his wife and/or kids and it’s a whole other story. Me, I can’t tolerate him any more by himself, either.

Sometimes I will have a Dr. Phil moment when I say to myself, “You can be bigger than this. You can go make up with BIL”… then about the time I have myself talked into it, he’ll do something so totally disrespectful of my husband that I’ll just say, “Piss on it”, and let the anger roll over me.

I’m sure this isn’t the last time I’ll be talking about this, as it’s a really sore subject. (Couldn’t tell, could ya?) I’ll try not to let it dominate the site, tho’. I’ve got better things to do. Gotta keep this ol’ egg glued together, you know…

Cracking the Egg Pt.I

Once upon a time there was this very nice lady who lost her mind. Lost her marbles. Cracked up. In polite language, had a nervous breakdown. It seems there were a lot of things this nice lady was keeping inside. For years… and years. Things that you’ll have to go to the other blog to read about.

At any rate, when this nice lady ‘lost it‘ there were some casualties. The first and foremost being her husband. This man has the patience of Job. You wouldn’t know it on a daily basis, because he has a tendency to get a little riled up about things, but in the big picture he is a marshmellow. He rants and raves, then goes back and apologizes to whoever he has just ranted and raved at. He feels badly for days if he doesn’ t get that opportunity. He’s very old fashioned and rather stoic when it comes to pain. He doesn’t like to see anyone in pain – physical or emotional. Especially emotional.

She came to the relationship damaged goods. Physically and mentally. Some of it he knew about, some of it she thought she had under control and would never have to let out of it’s special box. Like most of the rest of us know, monsters cannot be boxed forever. Eventually they have to come out.

When hers came out, it came out in a big way.

Several months went by full of pain and anger and severe depression. Suicide was contemplated and dismssed. Divorce was contemplated and dismissed. Leaving was contemplated and acted on. She drove across country to visit a relative she thought could help with part of her rage by answering some long-lost questions. So desperate was she to leave, she didn’t bother to make sure and contact this relative, so when she had been gone for a few days her husband called this relative and then found she hadn’t called, nor had she shown up yet. He’d spoken to her on the phone, but she wouldn’t say for sure where she was… some therapists brilliant idea to make her face independence. It almost killed him. He was desparate and scared and lost. He didn’t know which end was up.

She sat in motel rooms and drove through deserts and played music to drown out the echos of ghosts in her head. She missed her children more than she ever thought possible. When she left, she felt they’d be so much better off without her. She realized it didn’t matter. She needed them. She finally came to a peace of mind – a decision that would change her forever. She faced the fact that in the big picture the only thing that could change at this point was her. She talked to her husband. She admitted she needed him. She told him she’d changed. She told him where she was. He was terrified at what he was going to find when his plane landed….They spent time together getting to know each other again and trying to put the pieces back together. They went to the relatives’ house – together – and found the answers she’d been seeking. It didn’t seem so important anymore.

Home, they were more alive than ever before. They began making plans for a future – not just living from day to day. They decided they had a future… a solid future. They faced the people they’d left behind who, as people do, had come to their own conclusions of what had happened. She left him. They’d whisper behind their backs. Poor guy. We always knew she was trouble. Now she’s proved it.

They put it behind them and moved on. She’s much better now.

Okay, WHO Told?

Hubby comes home tonight and tells me he’s been talking to his brother. This in itself is not usually a good thing. Okay, I’m bad. I don’t care – he and I have history and it’s gonna come to a head one of these days. Another time, another story.

It seems MIL has been talking to BIL. MIL has been making pronouncements of how SHE is going camping this weekend to the races in the RV. WTF??? How did SHE find out? How did this happen? How can we stop it?

I have the sickening feeling we can’t.

Would anyone like to offer to take my MIL to some alternate location this weekend? I’m open to suggestions…

Storm Warning

Reading Brad’s blog this morning he was talking about hurricanes and our midwest version, tornados and it got me thinking about storms in general. When our four kids were young, we lived in an older farmhouse that had the master bedroom on the main floor, and two bedrooms up under the eves upstairs. The two girls slept in one room and for awhile, the two boys slept in another (ES got to the point he couldn’t stand his little brother so moved into the ‘dungeon’ – our unfinished, dank, damp, icky basement).

The stairs that went up to these rooms were very narrow and shallow (the steps themselves weren’t very deep). Hubby grew up in this house, and his room was upstairs, so even as a man with size 11 feet, he could go up and down those stairs like a man on fire. Me, I went slowly, putting each foot sideways on the steps, holding onto the railing for dear life, and STILL managed to fall down them a couple of times!

Because of the steps being so trecherous, I was always paranoid that if lightening would strike during a storm, or if we’d have a tornado warning (that usually gives you about a 10-15 minute warning, if that), it would be hard to get all the kids downstairs in a timely fashion. We started a routine, that if there were storm warnings out, we’d just have the kids sleep in the livingroom. That solved a lot of trouble. My kids are notoriously deep sleepers, too. Especially the oldest one. We’d go upstairs to wake them and make them move downstairs and I’d think she was awake – she’d be talking to me and walking toward the stairs – when I’d turn around and she’d be back in bed! She’d do that more than once! It was a comedy trying to get them all awake enough to get downstairs, as they were all too big to carry! Finally, we’d get them down there and settled, and at least I knew if I had to get them the rest of the way, it would be easier without having to deal with those stairs.

Now, when there are storm warnings, I just start worrying about the critters and how to get them all crated or shut in the “safe” room so they’ll be okay. Maybe Hubby IS right… all the kids are grown, so I’m having to have something to take care of. He must not think he’s enough.


My father is the king of innuendo. His favorite line when I was a kid was to say something risque’ to someone, then say, “It takes two – you must be thinking the same thing! I was talking totally innocently”. Uh huh. Right. When you’re a teenager, this becomes the point where you want the floor to open up and swallow you before the person he is talking to figures out he’s related to you.

When my Uncle (my mother’s brother) was in college, he came to see us for dinner and brought a girl. My dad took it upon himself to tease them about when they were getting married! As it turned out, they DID get married, but he couldn’t know that at the time. He was guessing, since it was the first girl my Uncle had brought to meet us.

Well, he’s older, but still just as bad. A couple of weeks ago when we had the family over for my son’s graduation, he brought his newly ‘formalized’ girlfriend. I say this, because my son has always had friends who were girls. Just friends. Pals. He’s had some girlfriends in the past, but even then he still had the pals. He’s just that kind of a guy. So, recently he and this girl decided they would become more than pals and would ‘officially’ start dating. Enter my father. Let’s put it this way, by the time I got out to the deck, my dad had grilled her to where her face was this red. He had the nerve to ask her how their sex life was, and how often…! Sheesh, Dad! He cleaned it up a bit when MIL walked out and said he’d asked girlfriend how often they….kissed. Right.

I’m glad ES warned her. I apologized to her, but sometimes that’s just not enough. Geez…

Racing Flashback I

Hubby: So, I’m standing on top of the car trailer getting ready for the race to start. They get out the green flag, YS’s coming around… they’re picking up speed…I’m totally focused…and…
Me: YES?!?!
Hubby: Mom (MIL) pokes me in the side until she gets my attention and whispers something at me. Now, you know I can’t hear worth a damn to start with, then she’s whispering and the cars are roaring, so I lean down to see what she wants…
Hubby: “Do I want a drink of water?”
Hubby: Her second favorite question – “Did you see the golf game this afternoon?”
Me: …sorry…

Camping Flashback I

YS: Did you notice P wasn’t hanging around much?
Hubby: Yeah… what was the deal? I thought he was going to be staying with us.
YS: Grandma was driving him crazy. You know how she stands on top of the car trailer with you and is always grabbing your belt?
Hubby: Yes…
YS: She did it to P.
Hubby: NO!
YS: Yes. That’s why he went to the bar both nights. To get away from Grandma.