Yeah. It’s Like That.

I was doing a little “housecleaning” around this site and I lost a bunch of my links. If you’re one of ’em, I’m sorry. Please get in touch and I’ll put you back – or I’ll put back ones as I figure it out. Boy, do I feel dumb. Just when I think I’m kinda getting the hang of this stuff… (rolling eyes)

Pack Your Bags!

Did I mention my parents are giving us their RV? I’m stunned. They bought this 35′ RV in 1987 for boatloads of money. It’s a nice RV and they’ve taken good care of it. When they were building their new house in Arkansas, they lived in it for six months. When their house burned down, it was the only thing besides the van that they were able to save. It’s been sitting down at a neighbors’ house since the fire last January.

On Sunday, Hubby and YS (youngest son) went to retrieve it. They took lots and lots of tools (they’re farmer/mechanics – by God they have tools!). My parents were pretty sure it was going to need some TLC before it would even be able to be driven home.

On the day before they left, Hubby called them to see about logistics (i.e. where’s the key, who are the neighbors, etc.). While talking to my parents he was speechless to hear them say they had talked about this and decided to give us the RV. Huh? It was only a few years ago that Hubby was reluctant to even ask them to borrow it to go to a race. We’ve never gotten the nerve to ask. Until a few months ago. We volunteered to go the 9-hour-drive-from-hell-without-stopping drive to get it. We also volunteered to store it on our farm, as we had the room…oh, and by-the-way could we borrow it to go to a three-day race in a couple of months?

Now they’ve switched direction 180 degrees. They’ve decided they aren’t going to camp anymore, but will probably just stay in motels if they go somewhere. They’re just going to give it to us.

Hubby is having a hard time getting his mind wrapped around this. He’s beginning to wonder if they really meant it, or if they’d been drinking at the time*. He’s afraid this was all some big elaborate joke and they aren’t really giving it to us so much as just letting us take over the insurance and the repair costs and the storage, then borrow it when they want to.

In the meantime, they are coming up on Friday to show us how to do some things with it – like filling/emptying the water tanks, learning about the generators, etc. Hubby’s been working on the mechanical stuff – alternator, belts, so forth. After that it gets turned over to me for ‘interior’ work and the job of ‘stocking’ for the trip. I’ve camped before, Hubby hasn’t for years and years since he was a kid. I’m not fooled. He’s thinking this is going to be fun. This is going to be work.

Cross your fingers!

*My parents are not ‘official’ alcoholics, however I’m convinced they are ‘non-official’ alcoholics. Anyone who starts drinking before 9 a.m. most days and can’t eat supper because they are too sloshed and just want to sleep many nights, in my mind have a problem. Weirdly, they have both been able to stop at various times in their lives. I think they make up for it in the other times of their lives. I don’t believe this is social drinking if you are doing it only with your spouse. My parents are not ‘nice’ drunks. I do not advocate not drinking as for most people this is a perfectly normal activity with no repercussions. I drink occasionally myself. This is the end of today’s lecture.

Kill Me Now

Just get it over with. I deserve it. I’m an idiot. Glutton for punishment. Dumb as a box of rocks. A french-fry short of a Happy Meal.

I’ve invited my parents, BIL and family for dinner Friday night along with the Queen (MIL – not to be confused with Queen Bee) and the Princess aka SIL. Kill me now.

If I’m lucky* the Princess will have reunion stuff to do and BIL’s family will be inconveniently homebound with watery diahrrea unable to come, but I’d probably better not count on it.

*I have Irish heritage, but don’t seem to have the ‘Luck o’ the Irish’ – someone in the famn damily musta forgot to kiss the Blarney Stone, or somethin’.

We’re Gonna Try This Again

I did haloscan once before and when I changed templates it went away. (Okay, you technical people – I LOST it – happy?) I’m gonna try it again. Unfortunately, I lose all the comments that all you lovely people left me from before. Bummer. I have them all in my memory, however. Yes, there have been that few of you.

I can only hope traffic will pick up. Tell your friends. Tell your family. DON’T tell MY family. There. Glad we’re clear on this.

The management reserves the right to track you down and stomp on your head if you tell any of my in-laws that this site exists. I mean it. Really. I have my ways. I have friends. I have lime. ‘nuf said.

Be Prepared to Bow

The Princess is coming. Tomorrow night. For a few days. For her high school reunion. Can you say, “bite me”? Sorry. For those of you who haven’t played our game “You Can’t Kill ‘Em”, this is my sister-in-law who lives in Virginia. Now, taken in small doses she’s fine. It’s just all the lies and b.s. that comes with her.

She’s the only girl. She’s two years younger than Hubby. She’s the one who got enough college degrees for her and both her brothers. She married a dairy farmer and has spent the next 20-something years complaining about how hard they work and how little they make and woe is me. One time she sent a letter with her usual whines, but one line stuck out “It’s so frustrating when you work so hard and things go bad”. We’re putting it on her tombstone. It’s her mantra. She lives far, far, away so it’s easy to write such gibberish to her parents and siblings. We’ll believe her (well, some of us will). When she talks to her mother on the phone, it’s how wonderful her family is ( better in all ways than our kids) but oh, how hard they work.

My MIL talked for a long time about how hard the Princess worked on the farm, getting up at 3 a.m. to do the morning milking. Then she got a job at a nearby college where she makes good money, good benefits. Now, I hear for years about how the Princess is at work at 5 a.m…. oh, how hard she works! After a few years of this, Hubby gets up the nerve to ask what time does she go home? (Both of us having been led to believe all these years that she’s sooooo overworked). She gets off at 2 p.m. Oh. Uh-huh. I see. What part of that overworked thing did we miss?

On top of that, she comes for visits and sleeps in. Think about it. I don’t know about you people, but when I’m used to getting up every morning at 4, 5, 6 o’clock, then I can’t sleep-in. I can go back to bed, but sleep-in? Forget it. Yet, this woman who supposedly gets up at 3 or 4 in the morning to be at work by 5 can sleep until 11? Forgive me for being a bit suspicious….

I’m also a bit jealous, I admit. According to MIL the Princess has a beautiful perennial flower bed and a lovely veggie garden. Excuse me? I’ve had perennial flower beds and veggie gardens since before Princess even knew there was dirt in her yard. Have I ever heard a word from MIL about my gardens? …how hard I work in them? Arrrrggghhh!

It just gets so old. I’ve mentioned before about how they whine about not having money, but yet they manage to rent a house at the beach for two weeks every summer. They’ve been to Australia, Ireland (more than once), several states, and various other trips – funded by…wait for it…MIL. Can’t prove it. Can’t dis-prove it. However, a few years ago the entired family (excluding ours) went to the beach for 10 days. This included the Princess, husband and two children, and BIL, wife and two brats boys. This was to celebrate one of the Princess’ kids graduation from college. They went in May, when we couldn’t go because of field work. They didn’t ask our kids to go (just because Hubby and I couldn’t go didn’t mean our kids couldn’t!). Hubby wasn’t happy.

He asked his mother if she was paying for this. She was evasive, then said ‘no’. Yeah…right.

After they got back, sharing the photos of their wonderful time with us peons that couldn’t go (thanks, people, rub it in) he happened one day to be talking to his brother – BIL.

Hubby: Sure was nice of Mom to pick up the tab for all this, wasn’t it?
BIL: Yeah! Man! We couldn’t have gone otherwise. It was great!

Guess MIL’s a liar, huh? Like I say, this is how it goes in this family. At least with our kids if I spoil one, I try to spoil the rest.

Gotta go practice my kissing ass bowing.