You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April 2009.
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Then enjoy these Swine Flu PSA’s from the late 70’s.
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*thanks to SMED for the image.
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It is a rainy, foggy day – my favorite kind of weather (really) and I am enjoying a good stare out into the pasture, cup of coffee in hand. We’ve had enough rain now that the pasture is bordering on lush – some wildflowers have even found the strength to bloom and while it’s not the riot of color it usually is at this time of year, there are some nice bright clumps of bluebonnets and paints and winecups out there.
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Something has expired under our house (killed, no doubt by the snake and his 500 friends who I have convinced myself are living under there). It is currently rotting somewhere under my office. We aren’t going to bother the landlord with it because to get under our house would involve de- and re-construction and as S. pointed out, give it another few days and the ants will have picked the carcass pretty much clean. Which is a lovely thought this early in the morning. You’re welcome.
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My funk continues, spurred on by various worries, real and imagined. One thing I am not worried about is the swine flu. Are you? It seems very hyped up but from what I just read in the NY Times, which I consider a voice of reason, there is really no need to panic. I probably wouldn’t travel to Mexico right now but other than that, not a real concern. Someone I know was saying yesterday that she doesn’t want to eat in any Mexican restaurants because their workers travel back and forth to the homeland. (A comment that struck me as wrong on a few levels.) I somewhat meanly pointed out to her that almost any fruit or vegetable she buys down here comes from or through Mexico and what is she going to do about that? Hmmm?
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That’s all you get today, internet. Tally to the motherf**cking ho.
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Due to excessive eating and drinking, I seem to have managed to gain three pounds over the weekend. Yay. I woke up with every intention of going for a long walk to counterbalance some of the bad behavior but alas, it is storming. So instead I’ll enjoy a day of beating myself up. Good, good times.
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A moving van lost its ramp as it went past our house Saturday. The ramp slid off and neatly chopped our mailbox down at the post. I heard the noise and went out to see what happened, only to see and hear one of our neighbors berating the poor moving crew at the top of her voice. (This is not the dog owner – it’s another neighbor who is actually very sweet but has a misplaced sense of ownership of our road…she has lived here for 23 years and can routinely be found in the road yelling at traffic to slow down, etc.) The moving crew supervisor yelled back at her to shut up and mind her own business (which I think he had every right to do), then came over to me, gave me their contact information and apologized. I managed to find a cinder block that the remaining post would fit into and for now, we have a temporary, if leaning, fix. The landlady will be out sometime today to survey the damage.
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It was a weekend of canceled plans and much navel gazing…navel gazing that has yielded no good answers, I might add. I am in quite a state of…something and am seeking answers. Anyone have any random answers to unasked questions? I’ll take whatever I can get.
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Disapproving Target Cashier: Oh, you have beer. Is it noon already?
Me: I’m not sure…
DTC: (curtly) Well, you can’t buy beer before noon. I guess the state figures most people are in church on Sundays.
Me: (suppressing the urge to tell her to fuck off) That’s fine – what time is it?.
DTC: (looks at her watch and then says in a disappointed tone) Oh. It’s 12:10.
Me:(exaggeratedly) GREAT!
The cashier finishes ringing up and bagging my order.
DTC: Do you want this (gestures at beer) in a sack?
Me: Oh, no thanks. I’m going to drink it while I drive home.
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Fact: Some people just ask for me to be mean to them.
The.End.
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I am not afraid of a lot of real-life things. My fears lie more in the realm of possibilities (plane crashes, diseases, another Bush administration, etc.) One real thing I am afraid of is snakes. I do not like them, Sam-I-am. Particularly when I find one in my backyard, as I did yesterday. Yesterday morning, I was going out to fill up the bird feeders and almost stepped on the sucker. It had raised its head up to strike but the gods of good reflexes were with me so I jumped out of the way – it headed rapidly under the house and that was that, save the stomach ache I had all day.
I went inside and consulted the internet in an attempt to identify the snake – because I didn’t take a lot of time looking at the thing before I jumped out of the way, identification was a little difficult. But I did see that the snake wasn’t banded and didn’t have a pitted or diamond-shaped head….so it probably was a harmless Texas brown snake. I did make myself go out there with S. yesterday evening and just got back from a gingerly trip to the birdfeeders with no snake sighting, so that’s good.
We live on a farm. I am quite sure this snake is but one of hundreds living around here. S., a native Texan, has seen less than a handful of snakes in his entire life. I have now seen three since moving here. One was out at Pedernales Falls, another was six-foot rat snake in the charges’ neighbor’s yard and now this one. Go away, snakes. And take alligators with you, while you’re at it.
So what are YOU afraid of….hmmmm?
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Oh, that little pity party was attractive, wasn’t it? My apologies. But I do feel compelled to inform you that here we are on Day 8. Unreal. And unwanted.
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One thing that greatly improved my mood yesterday was some one-on-one time with the younger charge. He is almost four and, to put it mildly, a character. We had some errands to run and when I arrived at the house to pick him up he blithely announced, “Laura, I just pooped, so I am ready to go!!” Okay! He grabbed his sunglasses and binoculars, we wrestled his car seat into my car and were off. (I have to interrupt myself to describe his outfit: superhero t shirt, plaid, knee-length shorts, black cowboy boots and Spiderman shades. He wore it well.) Our first stop was the grocery store, where he pushed a small cart with one hand while wielding the binoculars in the other, all the while providing a running commentary like some miniature Maysles brother. “Look at those apples! They’re HUGE! Oh wait, if I turn my binoculars around, they’re TEENY!” and “Why are there so many cakes here?!”. He helped me pick out dinner for his folks and some flowers for his mom and we were off. Our next stop was Starbucks, where he ordered his own tea and we bought a couple of huge cookies for him and his older bro, then stopped by the house to drop off our purchases.
While we were at the house, he expressed his excitement over being able to pick his older brother up from school – “I don’t even know what his teacher looks like!” “Are all the kids in T’s class big kids like him?”. Much anticipation. When we got to the school he saw several moms he knew from his preschool but the real thrill was seeing his brother walk out of his classroom – this elicited a shriek and a hug akin to what you see in those old films of families being reunited after a war. Older charge’s first question was to me: “Did you get roses?” Their mom and baby brother were out of town for a few days and older charge was insistent that we get his mom some flowers for her return home. When we talked about it the day before he was very specific in his request: “We need to get her roses. And if they don’t have roses, get tulips. Do you know what tulips look like? Should I draw a picture?”. No, T, I think I can manage it… Anyhow, it is good to have both their mama and their baby brother back.
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Did any of you get up to watch the Lyrid meteor shower early Wed. morning? I did and at the risk of further exposing my truly geeky nature, it was incredible. One nice thing about living where we do is that we’re pretty far away from the downtown lights and our night skies are fairly dense with stars. I counted eight meteors in about a 45-minute period, including one super-bright one that rivaled one S. and I saw out in San Saba a few summers ago. I’m not sure how good the Perseids are supposed to be this summer but S. and I are thinking about heading out to West Texas for those.
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I guess that’s all I have for you today, internet. It looks like one of the numerous articles I wrote on spec will actually be published in August and I need to do some rewrites on that. Tally ho.
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There’s a lot of not-good stuff going on right now, including — but not limited to — my period, which is on its 7th big day this month, complete with cramps that WILL NOT GO AWAY. Fuck you, menopause, for not being here when I need you.
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Also feeling very helplessly angry at the universe for something some friends are currently dealing with. Pointless, yes. Waste of time, check. But it does make me feel strangely better to even pretend that there is somewhere to direct the anger. Fuck you too, universe. Two times. In the universal can.
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Also feeling weird about a conversation I had with my sister today, in which she asked if I was willing to be second in line for power-of-attorney in health matters relating to her oldest. He’s 18 and college-bound and their attorney suggested to him that he should give his folks medical power of attorney in case anything happens to him that requires a medical decision. (Because he’s legally of age, in theory, those decisions could be left up to a doctor if no one else is specified.) Normally this stuff would just be routine but for some reason, talking about this gave me a bad feeling…perhaps because of what’s going on elsewhere. I dunno.
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Aaaaaaand…the interview subject appears to have completely bailed on me. Not exactly unexpected, but I’m feeling a bit adrift on that front as well.
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So…yeah. That’s what’s up in my world these days. Joyousness abounding.
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Today, the FBI released their new MOST-WANTED TERRORISTS LIST. Check it early and often, kids – you never know when you might have the chance to turn in your neighbors for a large cash reward.
And me? Well, I have formulated my list of least-wanted. People, things, etc. Here they are, in no particular order. Enjoy.
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LASS’ LEAST-WANTED
1. Cancer in any form in anyone I know.
2. Bill O’Reilly.
3. My uterus.
4. The fake old man on those Six Flags commercials.
5. Paris Hilton or any ‘news’ items about Paris Hilton or any pictures of her vapid face.
6. Stress.
7. My neighbor’s dogs.
8. Did I mention my uterus? Or stress?
9. ‘Circus peanuts’ candy.
10. Working for the man every night and day.
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