Anything Goes

I’m holding a dead kitten in my lap. Sapphire was dead when I got home this evening, nestled in among her siblings, her little bony body still warm, her little face between her paws. And Nate and I have cried and I’m still crying. She nursed really good yesterday morning and last night but, let’s face it, something was wrong with her. She wasn’t growing, hell, she still had her umbilical cord. There probably was something wrong on the inside because she didn’t get enough time to grow or room in the womb. It’s a fact of animal life.

No, I don’t think its morbid that I’m sitting here with her on my lap. I look down at her and stroke her soft fur and wish her well. So what if she was only 11 days old. Big fucking deal. I have a connection with animals that I can’t explain and her dying breaks my heart. And as I have told Nate, when we lost Mongoya, and now, that they had a good home and they were loved. For their short life, they were loved. That’s what really matters.

Why am I pissed? Well… fuck, I had a different post planned about what irked me today because several things did but now this one thing stands out most. AZ and Lex called me from the studio today. Can I just say this was awkward? I haven’t talked to Lex since I dumped him. Sure, we’ve chatted off and on but I haven’t spoken to him. AZ, well, we all know about him. Yeah, I spent time speaking in code to AZ and trying to keep my tongue in check because I’m lady enough not to diss Lex in front of one of his friends.

I told them that I had five new kittens two days before my birthday so now I had 13. Lex said, “Damn, you had too many when you had eight.” I said, “Well, I may lose one.” What I WANTED TO SAY was… “Look fucktard, its not like I asked you to take care of my cats m’kay! And furthermore, since I own my house and don’t live with my mommy, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” AZ didn’t say anything at all because he KNOWS how I feel about my cats. He knows that I have tried to reduce my population. He has the same problem with people telling him to get rid of his dog. He loves the floppy eared mangy beast and… therefore he keeps him.

The whole fucking conversation with Lex and AZ was… just terrible on my part. I mean, fuck, maybe Lex doesn’t know about mine and AZ’s relationship, but AZ does. And AZ definitely knows about my relationship with Lex and how I felt and how much it hurt me…. I want to call AZ and rip his ass apart. You have no idea!! NONE!!! As in, “What the fuck were you thinking?” As in, “You admitted you guys were talking about me why didn’t you just come out and tell him that I suck your dick and did it not cross your mind that I would feel a weeeeee bit uncomfortable talking to both of you!” Men are stupid creatures!!! Fucking stupid!!!

I IMed Lex when I got home, before I started writing this to tell him, “Now I have 12 because I found the runt dead.” I did. I DID, I DID, I DID. Crass asshole. I wanted to ask him if that’s the reason he wouldn’t have sex with me, or go out with me or treat me any better than what he did. That’s what I wanted to ask him. Were my eight cats the reason you are an EMOTIONAL CRIPPLE??? Answer that ASSHOLE!!! ANSWER THAT!!! And fuck you prick… Yeah, its okay for me to overlook the fact that YOU LIVE WITH YOUR MOTHER AT THE AGE OF 34!!! But, you wanna bitch about my cats??? Fuck you!!! FUCK. YOU.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. YEAH, YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I TAKE IT PERSONAL!!!!!!!

FUCK. YOU. And I want AZ to call me… I want him to. I want him to call me and explain why the fuck he did that. Lex would have NEVER known my phone number at work. He had such an indifference to calling me AT ALL!!! I know I’m so mad and upset that if I call him, I’ll just bawl and sob and yell and be really, really pissed. And then he’ll yell at me and then we’ll both feel bad. I’ve been mad at AZ before, but this takes the fucking cake. THIS IS PERSONAL!!! This hits me where it hurts.

Two of my biggest failed relationships on the phone with me at the SAME FUCKING TIME! JEEEEZUUUSSSS… SLAP ME HARDER!!! GOD, I LOVE IT, I LOVE THE PAIN, SLAP ME HARDER!!! BEAT ME ‘TIL I’M RED!!! BEAT ME! BEAT ME! MAKE IT HURT!!!! DON’T LET ME FORGET!!!

And its raining and cold and I have to dig a hole. Morticia keeps jumping my lap, licking her baby, like she’s trying to wake her up. That is just too sad to take so I gotta go do what I gotta do. I need to go out and get cat food for the others and beads for Nate’s sister’s necklace and for a few others and I can’t go with a glowing red nose and red rimmed eyes. Okay, yeah, I’m gonna have to. *sigh* Oh and just for the record, FUCK YOU LEX! And AZ, get your head out of your ASS!

I’m holding a dead kitten in my lap. Sapphire was dead when I got home this evening, nestled in among her siblings, her little bony body still warm, her little face between her paws. And Nate and I have cried and I’m still crying. She nursed really good yesterday morning and last night but, let’s face it, something was wrong with her. She wasn’t growing, hell, she still had her umbilical cord. There probably was something wrong on the inside because she didn’t get enough time to grow or room in the womb. It’s a fact of animal life.

No, I don’t think its morbid that I’m sitting here with her on my lap. I look down at her and stroke her soft fur and wish her well. So what if she was only 11 days old. Big fucking deal. I have a connection with animals that I can’t explain and her dying breaks my heart. And as I have told Nate, when we lost Mongoya, and now, that they had a good home and they were loved. For their short life, they were loved. That’s what really matters.

Why am I pissed? Well… fuck, I had a different post planned about what irked me today because several things did but now this one thing stands out most. AZ and Lex called me from the studio today. Can I just say this was awkward? I haven’t talked to Lex since I dumped him. Sure, we’ve chatted off and on but I haven’t spoken to him. AZ, well, we all know about him. Yeah, I spent time speaking in code to AZ and trying to keep my tongue in check because I’m lady enough not to diss Lex in front of one of his friends.

I told them that I had five new kittens two days before my birthday so now I had 13. Lex said, “Damn, you had too many when you had eight.” I said, “Well, I may lose one.” What I WANTED TO SAY was… “Look fucktard, its not like I asked you to take care of my cats m’kay! And furthermore, since I own my house and don’t live with my mommy, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” AZ didn’t say anything at all because he KNOWS how I feel about my cats. He knows that I have tried to reduce my population. He has the same problem with people telling him to get rid of his dog. He loves the floppy eared mangy beast and… therefore he keeps him.

The whole fucking conversation with Lex and AZ was… just terrible on my part. I mean, fuck, maybe Lex doesn’t know about mine and AZ’s relationship, but AZ does. And AZ definitely knows about my relationship with Lex and how I felt and how much it hurt me…. I want to call AZ and rip his ass apart. You have no idea!! NONE!!! As in, “What the fuck were you thinking?” As in, “You admitted you guys were talking about me why didn’t you just come out and tell him that I suck your dick and did it not cross your mind that I would feel a weeeeee bit uncomfortable talking to both of you!” Men are stupid creatures!!! Fucking stupid!!!

I IMed Lex when I got home, before I started writing this to tell him, “Now I have 12 because I found the runt dead.” I did. I DID, I DID, I DID. Crass asshole. I wanted to ask him if that’s the reason he wouldn’t have sex with me, or go out with me or treat me any better than what he did. That’s what I wanted to ask him. Were my eight cats the reason you are an EMOTIONAL CRIPPLE??? Answer that ASSHOLE!!! ANSWER THAT!!! And fuck you prick… Yeah, its okay for me to overlook the fact that YOU LIVE WITH YOUR MOTHER AT THE AGE OF 34!!! But, you wanna bitch about my cats??? Fuck you!!! FUCK. YOU.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. YEAH, YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I TAKE IT PERSONAL!!!!!!!

FUCK. YOU. And I want AZ to call me… I want him to. I want him to call me and explain why the fuck he did that. Lex would have NEVER known my phone number at work. He had such an indifference to calling me AT ALL!!! I know I’m so mad and upset that if I call him, I’ll just bawl and sob and yell and be really, really pissed. And then he’ll yell at me and then we’ll both feel bad. I’ve been mad at AZ before, but this takes the fucking cake. THIS IS PERSONAL!!! This hits me where it hurts.

Two of my biggest failed relationships on the phone with me at the SAME FUCKING TIME! JEEEEZUUUSSSS… SLAP ME HARDER!!! GOD, I LOVE IT, I LOVE THE PAIN, SLAP ME HARDER!!! BEAT ME ‘TIL I’M RED!!! BEAT ME! BEAT ME! MAKE IT HURT!!!! DON’T LET ME FORGET!!!

And its raining and cold and I have to dig a hole. Morticia keeps jumping my lap, licking her baby, like she’s trying to wake her up. That is just too sad to take so I gotta go do what I gotta do. I need to go out and get cat food for the others and beads for Nate’s sister’s necklace and for a few others and I can’t go with a glowing red nose and red rimmed eyes. Okay, yeah, I’m gonna have to. *sigh* Oh and just for the record, FUCK YOU LEX! And AZ, get your head out of your ASS!

On Thanksgiving Day, after the hunt was over and darkness had fallen, I went back to the farmhouse to ‘face the music.’ That would be… my family, collectively.

I do not have a warm and fuzzy relationship with my brother and his wife. I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked. Being the perceptive individual that I am, I realize it will always be this way. They probably don’t approve of my life any more than I approve of their’s. Okay.

What I’m upset about is really more than one thing… its two or three things combined, maybe four. They just all mix together in some bizarro fashion.

First is Nate. He’s never really been around babies, just J1 and J2 but he didn’t see them very often and he was all of three when J1 was born. I was sitting holding Annie and he came in and sat down beside of me and asked if he could hold her. I sat her on his lap and he held her carefully and talked to her while I battled the four arms and two heads attempting to decimate them, known as The Nephews. They are sooo rough with her! They pull her little head around, twist her arms, get in her face… poor darling. Nate just sat with her and I could tell… he wanted one.

I want one for him. I want one for me. I want one for us… whoever the collective “us” is. This is not the first time that Nate has brought the issue up. He really wants a baby sister, I think he would take a baby brother but has definitely told me he wants a baby sister. He told me on the way home that The Nephews were way too rough. He’s so protective of her.

This leads me to what else is bothering me. How The Nephews are allowed to treat, not only each other, but my niece. My SIL and brother, well… if they want to let their sons boss them around and slap them across the face (yes, J2 hauled off and slapped my SIL across the face as hard as he could and she did…. um… nothing) then so be it. But dear God, they slap, punch, kick, pinch, pull hair, talk back, throw tantrums, sling food… and this puts a lot of stress on my parents when they are there. It puts stress on me and Nate too because now The Nephews have taken to fighting over Nate. Nate came home scratched and bruised because he got caught between them.

The Nephews are absolutely the cutest little boys you could ever hope for. My niece is an absolute doll. She is sooo sweet. I told my brother that and his response was, “Well, she’ll be as rotten as the other two before long.” Oh, like this is no big deal that he’s raising a posse of undisciplined disciples of Satan! Nate may not jump at every word I say but he knows what is right and wrong and he’s figured out that what The Nephews do, is wrong. This bothers him.

And this bothers me. As I was looking through my SIL scrapbook, I came across the story of how Annie came to be. Seems my SIL cannot ovulate by herself. She takes a particular drug that makes her ovulate or a follicle ripen. She then goes to the fertility doctor and they do an ultrasound to see if its working. If it is but not moving on, then they shoot her up with progesterone. All well and good, I knew she needed a little extra help in that department.

In the scrapbook she talked about how “we just couldn’t wait to have another baby… so we went to Disney with the boys first… blah, blah, blah” Heh, I had figured that out myself. Big trip = new baby. Then she goes on to say that she had a certain amount of time, blah, blah… and my brother had just flown back from Alabama. This whole “we” thing, was bullshit. My parents were with my brother when my SIL called to give him the big news. He was, shall we say, less than thrilled. Which is sad. For me, its sad. No one’s life is perfect and whatever facade my brother and SIL were going for sort of crumbled in that moment.

Whatever my brother does for Annie, its done with a mechanical indifference. He feeds her but doesn’t look at her. He holds her but away from him. He used to come in and if one of us was holding J1 or J2, especially J1, then he would talk to them as babies and with Annie, oh well. Its not Annie’s fault. Its his fault for not having the balls to stand up to his wife and its my SIL’s fault for taking matters into her own hands. I don’t know what the deal is there but I see three perfectly good kids, smart kids (so far), being completely wasted.

Oh and what I would give for them to be mine. That’s what really bothers me. I would love to have more kids…. kidssssss… not just one more, although I’d settle, but I’d prefer three. Hell, I’d adopt a whole family if I could. But alas.

My brother is a fucking moron and his wife is a bitch. Yep, she loves shoving them out but by God if she wants to actually act like a parent. Being a parent means being the bad guy sometimes. It means saying “no” and meaning it and yes, it’s a hard fucking job!! I KNOW! I think of my poor Nate, and how they talked about him before we found out about the seizures and the ADHD. He has his problems but God, he’s a damn good kid all in all. He’s sweet and kind and he LOVES so much!!

So many things I want for us….

Its hard to keep my spirits up sometimes. I put out some feelers… you know, “going for it” in a sense with some of my crushes but have come up… no where. That’s hard, really, really hard. Sometimes I think men think I’m teasing them or some shit when I express interest or… I don’t know. Its like, “yeah, right, uh huh.” Yo, fucktard, I’m serious!!! What? You think I’m doing this for my health? No you nimrod, its because I LIKE YOU. That goes for my crogs too. Nothing like having your hand slapped for trying to dip into the pot.

Yeah, well, I’m an emotionally complex individual. I know I am. Deal with it. Can’t handle it, don’t want you anyway. I’m not bitter, I’m more confused than anything. People who don’t have it, want it. People who have it, take it for granted. Yes, I just generalized a whole, whole lot. My blog. Bite me.

This is one of those nights, I go outside and stare at the moon and the stars and say… “What the FUCK?” Then as I sit here writing, Nate brings me a bracelet he made me with some letter beads I had bought him. It says, “Nate and Mommy.” That makes it better. Time to be thankful for what I have instead of grousing over what I don’t have. Injustice is the way of the world and the world owes me nothing, except…

DIP!!

On Thanksgiving Day, after the hunt was over and darkness had fallen, I went back to the farmhouse to ‘face the music.’ That would be… my family, collectively.

I do not have a warm and fuzzy relationship with my brother and his wife. I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked. Being the perceptive individual that I am, I realize it will always be this way. They probably don’t approve of my life any more than I approve of their’s. Okay.

What I’m upset about is really more than one thing… its two or three things combined, maybe four. They just all mix together in some bizarro fashion.

First is Nate. He’s never really been around babies, just J1 and J2 but he didn’t see them very often and he was all of three when J1 was born. I was sitting holding Annie and he came in and sat down beside of me and asked if he could hold her. I sat her on his lap and he held her carefully and talked to her while I battled the four arms and two heads attempting to decimate them, known as The Nephews. They are sooo rough with her! They pull her little head around, twist her arms, get in her face… poor darling. Nate just sat with her and I could tell… he wanted one.

I want one for him. I want one for me. I want one for us… whoever the collective “us” is. This is not the first time that Nate has brought the issue up. He really wants a baby sister, I think he would take a baby brother but has definitely told me he wants a baby sister. He told me on the way home that The Nephews were way too rough. He’s so protective of her.

This leads me to what else is bothering me. How The Nephews are allowed to treat, not only each other, but my niece. My SIL and brother, well… if they want to let their sons boss them around and slap them across the face (yes, J2 hauled off and slapped my SIL across the face as hard as he could and she did…. um… nothing) then so be it. But dear God, they slap, punch, kick, pinch, pull hair, talk back, throw tantrums, sling food… and this puts a lot of stress on my parents when they are there. It puts stress on me and Nate too because now The Nephews have taken to fighting over Nate. Nate came home scratched and bruised because he got caught between them.

The Nephews are absolutely the cutest little boys you could ever hope for. My niece is an absolute doll. She is sooo sweet. I told my brother that and his response was, “Well, she’ll be as rotten as the other two before long.” Oh, like this is no big deal that he’s raising a posse of undisciplined disciples of Satan! Nate may not jump at every word I say but he knows what is right and wrong and he’s figured out that what The Nephews do, is wrong. This bothers him.

And this bothers me. As I was looking through my SIL scrapbook, I came across the story of how Annie came to be. Seems my SIL cannot ovulate by herself. She takes a particular drug that makes her ovulate or a follicle ripen. She then goes to the fertility doctor and they do an ultrasound to see if its working. If it is but not moving on, then they shoot her up with progesterone. All well and good, I knew she needed a little extra help in that department.

In the scrapbook she talked about how “we just couldn’t wait to have another baby… so we went to Disney with the boys first… blah, blah, blah” Heh, I had figured that out myself. Big trip = new baby. Then she goes on to say that she had a certain amount of time, blah, blah… and my brother had just flown back from Alabama. This whole “we” thing, was bullshit. My parents were with my brother when my SIL called to give him the big news. He was, shall we say, less than thrilled. Which is sad. For me, its sad. No one’s life is perfect and whatever facade my brother and SIL were going for sort of crumbled in that moment.

Whatever my brother does for Annie, its done with a mechanical indifference. He feeds her but doesn’t look at her. He holds her but away from him. He used to come in and if one of us was holding J1 or J2, especially J1, then he would talk to them as babies and with Annie, oh well. Its not Annie’s fault. Its his fault for not having the balls to stand up to his wife and its my SIL’s fault for taking matters into her own hands. I don’t know what the deal is there but I see three perfectly good kids, smart kids (so far), being completely wasted.

Oh and what I would give for them to be mine. That’s what really bothers me. I would love to have more kids…. kidssssss… not just one more, although I’d settle, but I’d prefer three. Hell, I’d adopt a whole family if I could. But alas.

My brother is a fucking moron and his wife is a bitch. Yep, she loves shoving them out but by God if she wants to actually act like a parent. Being a parent means being the bad guy sometimes. It means saying “no” and meaning it and yes, it’s a hard fucking job!! I KNOW! I think of my poor Nate, and how they talked about him before we found out about the seizures and the ADHD. He has his problems but God, he’s a damn good kid all in all. He’s sweet and kind and he LOVES so much!!

So many things I want for us….

Its hard to keep my spirits up sometimes. I put out some feelers… you know, “going for it” in a sense with some of my crushes but have come up… no where. That’s hard, really, really hard. Sometimes I think men think I’m teasing them or some shit when I express interest or… I don’t know. Its like, “yeah, right, uh huh.” Yo, fucktard, I’m serious!!! What? You think I’m doing this for my health? No you nimrod, its because I LIKE YOU. That goes for my crogs too. Nothing like having your hand slapped for trying to dip into the pot.

Yeah, well, I’m an emotionally complex individual. I know I am. Deal with it. Can’t handle it, don’t want you anyway. I’m not bitter, I’m more confused than anything. People who don’t have it, want it. People who have it, take it for granted. Yes, I just generalized a whole, whole lot. My blog. Bite me.

This is one of those nights, I go outside and stare at the moon and the stars and say… “What the FUCK?” Then as I sit here writing, Nate brings me a bracelet he made me with some letter beads I had bought him. It says, “Nate and Mommy.” That makes it better. Time to be thankful for what I have instead of grousing over what I don’t have. Injustice is the way of the world and the world owes me nothing, except…

DIP!!

Sapphire, one of my new kittens, is not doing well. She’s weak, still has her umbilical cord and is not growing like the others. Basically, a failure to thrive. I put her on the nip this morning and I’ll do the same tonight. I figure she is getting milk, but because she is so small she’s getting the leftovers and what she needs is the good stuff.

I told Nate that I would prefer that nature take its course. If something is wrong with her then its best that we leave her be. I take my cue from Morticia though. She cleans her and makes over her just like she does the others. She hasn’t rejected Sapphire but, being a cat and not having hands, is pretty powerless to stop the other kittens, who are much bigger and stronger from taking her spot at the nipple board.

I told Nate if she makes it until tomorrow, by herself, then I will get some replacement formula and hand feed her. She may just need a supplement to get her over the hump. She is going to be a really cute girl. My sense of fairness just will not let me give up on her. I always root for the underdog, or cat, in this instance. I will also make up a batch of home-made Pedialyte © tonight and feed her some with a dropper. She is a bit dehydrated, which is more dangerous than just being underfed.

Oh hell, I know I’ll risk overdrawing my account and will go to PetSmart tonight and get her some formula, if she’s still kicking when I get home. *Crosses fingers*

On to other things.

Nate and I moved furniture, cleaned and made a spot for the Christmas tree. We got it about half-way up and I found it laying on its side this morning, a victim of curious cats. This is why its almost impossible to have a tree. I’ll have to anchor it to the floor. Maybe I can spray something around it to keep the cats away.

I made my sister-in-law a necklace and earrings for Christmas. I’m making J1, J2 and Nate, all matching medicine pouches, similar to this one. My mom, who was huffing mad and stressed to the max with my nephews and my SIL, asked me if I thought she would ever spend so much personal time doing something like that for Nate. I said, “No, but that doesn’t mean I have to be like her.” And it doesn’t. I can’t afford much. I can’t depend on what is looking to be more like a non-existent bonus so I have to do what I can afford.

Plus, I’ve had this idea for a long time. The boys love anything to do with hunting and things like that. I figured it would a nice place to put marbles and things they find in the woods. I’m also going to bead their names on each of the pouches… that way, no fighting! I’ll probably put a few other things on them too, just to make them special. I can loom all of that and it won’t take me any time at all. Just have to get the beads.

When Nate and I were leaving my parent’s house the other night, Nate said, “Mom, that tree is looking at us.” I thought I’d had too much turkey or something until I looked at the big oak tree that my car was parked under. My parents had gotten one of those novelty things that you put on trees. Eyes, nose, mouth, like the trees from “The Wizard of Oz.” I laughed until I almost cried.

Happy Monday!

Sapphire, one of my new kittens, is not doing well. She’s weak, still has her umbilical cord and is not growing like the others. Basically, a failure to thrive. I put her on the nip this morning and I’ll do the same tonight. I figure she is getting milk, but because she is so small she’s getting the leftovers and what she needs is the good stuff.

I told Nate that I would prefer that nature take its course. If something is wrong with her then its best that we leave her be. I take my cue from Morticia though. She cleans her and makes over her just like she does the others. She hasn’t rejected Sapphire but, being a cat and not having hands, is pretty powerless to stop the other kittens, who are much bigger and stronger from taking her spot at the nipple board.

I told Nate if she makes it until tomorrow, by herself, then I will get some replacement formula and hand feed her. She may just need a supplement to get her over the hump. She is going to be a really cute girl. My sense of fairness just will not let me give up on her. I always root for the underdog, or cat, in this instance. I will also make up a batch of home-made Pedialyte © tonight and feed her some with a dropper. She is a bit dehydrated, which is more dangerous than just being underfed.

Oh hell, I know I’ll risk overdrawing my account and will go to PetSmart tonight and get her some formula, if she’s still kicking when I get home. *Crosses fingers*

On to other things.

Nate and I moved furniture, cleaned and made a spot for the Christmas tree. We got it about half-way up and I found it laying on its side this morning, a victim of curious cats. This is why its almost impossible to have a tree. I’ll have to anchor it to the floor. Maybe I can spray something around it to keep the cats away.

I made my sister-in-law a necklace and earrings for Christmas. I’m making J1, J2 and Nate, all matching medicine pouches, similar to this one. My mom, who was huffing mad and stressed to the max with my nephews and my SIL, asked me if I thought she would ever spend so much personal time doing something like that for Nate. I said, “No, but that doesn’t mean I have to be like her.” And it doesn’t. I can’t afford much. I can’t depend on what is looking to be more like a non-existent bonus so I have to do what I can afford.

Plus, I’ve had this idea for a long time. The boys love anything to do with hunting and things like that. I figured it would a nice place to put marbles and things they find in the woods. I’m also going to bead their names on each of the pouches… that way, no fighting! I’ll probably put a few other things on them too, just to make them special. I can loom all of that and it won’t take me any time at all. Just have to get the beads.

When Nate and I were leaving my parent’s house the other night, Nate said, “Mom, that tree is looking at us.” I thought I’d had too much turkey or something until I looked at the big oak tree that my car was parked under. My parents had gotten one of those novelty things that you put on trees. Eyes, nose, mouth, like the trees from “The Wizard of Oz.” I laughed until I almost cried.

Happy Monday!

383 years after the Algonquins saved the white bread Pilgrim asses by showing them how to hunt, plant and gather, I hold these truths to be somewhat evident, at least to me:

1. No matter how steep a mountain is going up, it will contort at least one of your knees going down.

2. The moment you look up while scouting or stalking is the exact moment you will step in a mud hole up to your hip.

3. Hunting into the wind during a snow storm will cause ice to form on your eyebrows and eyelashes.

4. Any 16 degree drop in the temperature is never a good thing.

5. Neither is leaving your gloves and toboggan at home.

6. If the strap on your rifle breaks twice and the barrel of said rifle goes into the mud it is best not to discharge said firearm and return to base to clean said rifle.

7. If on the way to clean said rifle you miss taking a shot at an eight point buck, said buck will never reappear anytime during your natural life and will become a phantom of the forest. (The yellow antlered bastard!)

8. Awakening at 4:00 a.m., driving an hour and a half, walking 10 miles, stuffing yourself with turkey, and then driving another hour and a half, will cause you to oversleep the next morning.

9. You cannot shoot a rifle if you’re too scared to let go of the tree stand.

10. Frustration is when your father tells you half of a second before dusk that he would like you to shoot a doe for his starving neighbors when you have passed up six opportunities to shoot does and then do not see another deer during the remaining nanosecond of daylight.

11. Double frustration is dealing with your nephews.

12. Quadruple frustration is dealing with your parents who are dealing with your nephews.

13. It is best while seated at the table for Thanksgiving dinner to “get in the zone” of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberries, corn, beans, roll, deviled egg, drink tea - repeat - repeat - repeat. This will save you the frustration of watching one nephew flip mashed potatoes on the other and makes for a more enjoyable dining experience.

14. While forced to look at your sister-in-law’s scrapbooking efforts, attempt to refrain from mentioning that you are missing from the entire year of 2004.

15. Also while looking at said scrapbook, attempt to forget that you read about the conception of your niece.

16. The creatures in the forest are much tamer than the yard apes at the house.

17. Sitting in a warm patch of sunlight, with your head in a comfortable niche, toboggan on, hood up, rifle across your lap, is the perfect way to catch an afternoon nap. Ahem…. not that I would know.

18. The reason you eat turkey on Thanksgiving is because the little shits keep giving up your position to the deer so you shoot them instead.

19. The wind chill is in direct correspondence to your age in negative numbers.

20. You will see five times more deer on the drive home than you did in the two days you hunted.

383 years after the Algonquins saved the white bread Pilgrim asses by showing them how to hunt, plant and gather, I hold these truths to be somewhat evident, at least to me:

1. No matter how steep a mountain is going up, it will contort at least one of your knees going down.

2. The moment you look up while scouting or stalking is the exact moment you will step in a mud hole up to your hip.

3. Hunting into the wind during a snow storm will cause ice to form on your eyebrows and eyelashes.

4. Any 16 degree drop in the temperature is never a good thing.

5. Neither is leaving your gloves and toboggan at home.

6. If the strap on your rifle breaks twice and the barrel of said rifle goes into the mud it is best not to discharge said firearm and return to base to clean said rifle.

7. If on the way to clean said rifle you miss taking a shot at an eight point buck, said buck will never reappear anytime during your natural life and will become a phantom of the forest. (The yellow antlered bastard!)

8. Awakening at 4:00 a.m., driving an hour and a half, walking 10 miles, stuffing yourself with turkey, and then driving another hour and a half, will cause you to oversleep the next morning.

9. You cannot shoot a rifle if you’re too scared to let go of the tree stand.

10. Frustration is when your father tells you half of a second before dusk that he would like you to shoot a doe for his starving neighbors when you have passed up six opportunities to shoot does and then do not see another deer during the remaining nanosecond of daylight.

11. Double frustration is dealing with your nephews.

12. Quadruple frustration is dealing with your parents who are dealing with your nephews.

13. It is best while seated at the table for Thanksgiving dinner to “get in the zone” of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberries, corn, beans, roll, deviled egg, drink tea - repeat - repeat - repeat. This will save you the frustration of watching one nephew flip mashed potatoes on the other and makes for a more enjoyable dining experience.

14. While forced to look at your sister-in-law’s scrapbooking efforts, attempt to refrain from mentioning that you are missing from the entire year of 2004.

15. Also while looking at said scrapbook, attempt to forget that you read about the conception of your niece.

16. The creatures in the forest are much tamer than the yard apes at the house.

17. Sitting in a warm patch of sunlight, with your head in a comfortable niche, toboggan on, hood up, rifle across your lap, is the perfect way to catch an afternoon nap. Ahem…. not that I would know.

18. The reason you eat turkey on Thanksgiving is because the little shits keep giving up your position to the deer so you shoot them instead.

19. The wind chill is in direct correspondence to your age in negative numbers.

20. You will see five times more deer on the drive home than you did in the two days you hunted.

Tomorrow? The nabes and I sat outside last night with a kerosene heater, drank beer and tried to belch as loud as possible when someone would come down the street walking, running or on a bike. Naturally, we misfired all the time.

J.A., which is TLC’s mom and I talked about the fact the school nurse told TLC that he smelled like cat pee. Well, I told her that he does some days. His clothes rather. Okay, most days. He smells worse than cat pee. Sometimes he smells so bad I have to roll the window down on the ride to school and its only six blocks. TLC smells really bad, Hagar… ehhh, sometimes and J.A. never does.

I think this is because she hangs her clothes up etc., while TLC is known to take clothes off the hanger and dump them in the floor… and the floor stinks… so. Sad. Anyway, I agree with J.A. that the school should have called her or Hagar and not said anything to TLC. Maybe that was the school’s way of getting to them. Also, the teacher told TLC he was not allowed to play video games anymore.

I’m not sure how she intends to enforce that but J.A. overrode her and said after TLC gets his homework done that he can play video games. Must be those straight E’s the school is worried about.

J.A. was also telling me about her friend BeeBee, who she works with. She recently dumped her alcoholic, drug addict boyfriend and had to take the cops to the apartment to get her things because he wouldn’t let her in, threatened her, etc. Her ex opened the window to the apartment and yelled down to where she and the officer were standing, “Here, don’t forget this! You’re gonna need it!” And threw a dildo at her. She yelled back, “I wouldn’t have needed it if you were bigger than this,” and spread her fingers an inch apart. She said the cop bust out laughing. Probably made his night.

Then she was telling me about another friend? Co-worker… that is 47 years old and just found out she’s pregnant… again. She has two children and has had about four abortions. Problem is, chica takes seven Lortabs in the morning just to get moving, more throughout the day, and drinks every evening. No, she’s not stopping!!! J.A. asked her to stop the pills and stop the drinking and she would take care of the baby when she had it. I asked J.A. if Addict really knew what this child was going to be like when it came out, if it survived to be born anyway. Forget mentally challenged, the child will be teetotally fucking retarded!! They will remove the child from her custody, as rightly they should, if it is born addicted to a narcotic .

Some people should be publicly flogged.

Nate got up sick with diarrhea at 4:30 this morning. Amazing how one good call of “Mommy” with right inflection can bring one wide fucking awake at that time of the morning. Not just do your eyes fly open but you sit straight up in the bed. He didn’t throw up or anything, just went potty twice and then curled up with me and went back to sleep. Naturally, I did not for at least an hour. The adrenaline was already pumping.

Then I overslept. Well, not really, I just didn’t get out of the bed. I saw the time on the clock was 8:29 but the radio said it was only 8:21, so, I hit the snooze and rolled over for another eight minutes. I do that. Now, I’m tired.

I had worked on my new purse last night until midnight and I was really counting on those seven straight hours from 12-7 to get me through. Tomorrow morning I’ll be up at 4:30 to drive to my Mom’s house to go hunting. So far they haven’t had any luck. The deer are hiding because of the rain. One of them got a spike, but that’s it. Tricky bastards.

Still no news on my bonus, which reeks. Really reeks. I can’t tell you how much it reeks!! And stinks!! And reeks!! I told Bunsen yesterday that if I got it I was having dip all weekend, crab dip, devil dip, chili/cheese dip and crackers and Tostitos. I’m craving dip. I want DIP dammit!! Now, I’ll have to wait until Tuesday for payday.

I’m working Friday because I need the money. I found a cyst/tumor type thing on Smokey, that’s my big, fat nine year old cat. Its on his spine, right below the shoulder blades. Oy! Just one more thing. I’m going to keep an eye on it. Sometimes they are absorbed by the body. He could have bumped it on something too. Or it may be a warble. As some of you may not know what a marble is, it is the maggot or larvae of a warble fly that lives under the skin of mammals. I don’t see any type of hole though which would indicate this. Plus, the place would be hard and hot, this is mushy.

Well, that’s my world. Happy Thanksgiving Turkeys! Oh, I meant, Happy Thanksgiving, EAT lots of turkey… yeah, that’s what I meant. Gobble, gobble. Stay safe. Eat DIP if you have it.

Tomorrow? The nabes and I sat outside last night with a kerosene heater, drank beer and tried to belch as loud as possible when someone would come down the street walking, running or on a bike. Naturally, we misfired all the time.

J.A., which is TLC’s mom and I talked about the fact the school nurse told TLC that he smelled like cat pee. Well, I told her that he does some days. His clothes rather. Okay, most days. He smells worse than cat pee. Sometimes he smells so bad I have to roll the window down on the ride to school and its only six blocks. TLC smells really bad, Hagar… ehhh, sometimes and J.A. never does.

I think this is because she hangs her clothes up etc., while TLC is known to take clothes off the hanger and dump them in the floor… and the floor stinks… so. Sad. Anyway, I agree with J.A. that the school should have called her or Hagar and not said anything to TLC. Maybe that was the school’s way of getting to them. Also, the teacher told TLC he was not allowed to play video games anymore.

I’m not sure how she intends to enforce that but J.A. overrode her and said after TLC gets his homework done that he can play video games. Must be those straight E’s the school is worried about.

J.A. was also telling me about her friend BeeBee, who she works with. She recently dumped her alcoholic, drug addict boyfriend and had to take the cops to the apartment to get her things because he wouldn’t let her in, threatened her, etc. Her ex opened the window to the apartment and yelled down to where she and the officer were standing, “Here, don’t forget this! You’re gonna need it!” And threw a dildo at her. She yelled back, “I wouldn’t have needed it if you were bigger than this,” and spread her fingers an inch apart. She said the cop bust out laughing. Probably made his night.

Then she was telling me about another friend? Co-worker… that is 47 years old and just found out she’s pregnant… again. She has two children and has had about four abortions. Problem is, chica takes seven Lortabs in the morning just to get moving, more throughout the day, and drinks every evening. No, she’s not stopping!!! J.A. asked her to stop the pills and stop the drinking and she would take care of the baby when she had it. I asked J.A. if Addict really knew what this child was going to be like when it came out, if it survived to be born anyway. Forget mentally challenged, the child will be teetotally fucking retarded!! They will remove the child from her custody, as rightly they should, if it is born addicted to a narcotic .

Some people should be publicly flogged.

Nate got up sick with diarrhea at 4:30 this morning. Amazing how one good call of “Mommy” with right inflection can bring one wide fucking awake at that time of the morning. Not just do your eyes fly open but you sit straight up in the bed. He didn’t throw up or anything, just went potty twice and then curled up with me and went back to sleep. Naturally, I did not for at least an hour. The adrenaline was already pumping.

Then I overslept. Well, not really, I just didn’t get out of the bed. I saw the time on the clock was 8:29 but the radio said it was only 8:21, so, I hit the snooze and rolled over for another eight minutes. I do that. Now, I’m tired.

I had worked on my new purse last night until midnight and I was really counting on those seven straight hours from 12-7 to get me through. Tomorrow morning I’ll be up at 4:30 to drive to my Mom’s house to go hunting. So far they haven’t had any luck. The deer are hiding because of the rain. One of them got a spike, but that’s it. Tricky bastards.

Still no news on my bonus, which reeks. Really reeks. I can’t tell you how much it reeks!! And stinks!! And reeks!! I told Bunsen yesterday that if I got it I was having dip all weekend, crab dip, devil dip, chili/cheese dip and crackers and Tostitos. I’m craving dip. I want DIP dammit!! Now, I’ll have to wait until Tuesday for payday.

I’m working Friday because I need the money. I found a cyst/tumor type thing on Smokey, that’s my big, fat nine year old cat. Its on his spine, right below the shoulder blades. Oy! Just one more thing. I’m going to keep an eye on it. Sometimes they are absorbed by the body. He could have bumped it on something too. Or it may be a warble. As some of you may not know what a marble is, it is the maggot or larvae of a warble fly that lives under the skin of mammals. I don’t see any type of hole though which would indicate this. Plus, the place would be hard and hot, this is mushy.

Well, that’s my world. Happy Thanksgiving Turkeys! Oh, I meant, Happy Thanksgiving, EAT lots of turkey… yeah, that’s what I meant. Gobble, gobble. Stay safe. Eat DIP if you have it.