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The Archives ... formerly known as "All the Crap I've Written in the Diary Prior to Today, but it was Taking Too Damned Long to Load in a Browser Window."   Blogging at it's Finest.  If it doesn't say "Wet Sands" it isn't a Blog!

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Current 2010 babblings....
January  

January 2, 2010 - A New Year!  Happy New Year everyone!  The kids were over and we played Uno and then watched music videos and watched the ball drop on "Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve" and my daughter said, "What is wrong with that poor man?" when they would have Dick Clark do a segment.  "He had a stroke, honey..." we explained.  "Oh, My - let him go home!  He needs to sleep!"  My oldest son said, "Put him back in his box!" 

Dick is looking rough, that's for sure.  That is all of our fates eventually.  At least Dick is still trying.  We should all keep trying...that's the key.  What was it that Dori the fish said in the movie 'Nemo'??   "Just keep swimming..."  That is all we can do.  We all just keep swimming!!

The kids went home Friday night and tonight my husband is sleeping in his chair and my wee one went to the movies with friends.  It's nice and quiet in Sandy's house.  (Except for the dogs who are pacing and barking periodically - I assume that is because of the rebel deer that keep eating all my bird food out front.) 

I think the antibiotics the kind doctor gave me are finally working a little.  I have not had a fever since New Year's Eve, or at least I don't think so.  The snot is flowing freely - almost reaching self drowning proportions.  I have a terrible headache, which I will assume is the sinus infection fighting back against the drugs.  Fight the good fight, little pill.  Tonight I made a pot of vegetable soup with LOTS of garlic in it, since that is nature's own form of antibiotic.  I might stink, but I'll get better sooner! 

I talked to my Aunt Jean yesterday and she said, "There sure have been a lot of Sundays lately!"  That made me laugh.   That is what the long weekends feel like - a lot of Sundays.  My wee one will not do well the first few days back to school next week, as he's changed his nights to days and days to nights.  It will be interesting for a while.  He turns 17 on January 5th.  When did that happen?  Sigh. 

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year.  I hope 2010 brings more pleasant little times and less big bad times for us all.  I hope we all see more sunrises that amaze us and sunsets that take our breath away this year.   I hope the smells are richer and the sleep is sounder and the pain is less and the joy is more.  I know the best we can hope for, however, is to make it through one day at a time - but it would be so nice if we all learned a little each day and smiled about something each day and shook our heads in amazement each day - one day at a time...

January 6, 2010 - My wee one turned 17 yesterday!  (Kenny came over to have 'Taco Tuesday' with us and we had a Birthday Cookieachicken.jpg (113446 bytes) afterwards, but we will have all the kids over this weekend for an official celebration.)  It feels like no time at all since his birth (where he decided it was time to come out and did so with speed and vengeance) yet so much has happened in those seventeen years.  Sigh.  (I think one of my favorite pictures of him as a baby had to be when he had chicken pox.   His sister had generously shared them with her baby brother and he was COVERED head to toe, inside and apurple.jpg (109132 bytes)out, with pox. Back then I would amaze family and friends with the Polaroids of the poor boy's spots almost as if I was proud of how badly he was peppered with the things...)

Out of all three children, he's been the most challenging to raise and herd in the general direction of adult hood. Plus, out of all three kids he knows every one of my 'buttons' (some I didn't even know I had) and delights in pushing them often and he uses that talent like a skilled, stealthy ninja.  I can be drawn into a never ending argument with the boy about nothing and not realize he's playing me like a finely tuned instrument until some time has passed and he is grinning like a Cheshire cat...  (I'm sure my Mom would be saying about now, "Paybacks are Heck, aren't they Sandy??!" because Mom would have never have said "Hell"...)

He has been a challenge and a joy to say the least.  He rounds outaaron 3.jpg (23348 bytes) our little family well and is blessed to have a supporting older sister and brother that adore him and also treat him like a...well - um - BROTHER.  (The terms "turd head", "sheep head", and "poop eater" are still used quite frequently in his Aaroncute.JPG (150028 bytes)presence...)  The boy has never had a proper Birthday Party per say with his birth so close to the Christmas/New Year combo.  I believe I will have to rectify that next year when he turns eighteen.  He doesn't seem to hold it against us that we never had a big bash for him...so that is a good thing. 

Since he is the youngest he tends to think mainly of himself and we are trying to fix that.  (Sure, wait until after the damage is done!!) He will come around.  (First of all, he's male - and I'm not pickin' on the men here but they usually do think of themselves first - being as it's genetic and all and men can't help it.)  Second of all - he was spoiled being the youngest and has come to expect too much all the time and give nothing most of the time... He's had his fun so now we are introducing 'real life' a little each day into his food and water supply so as not to shock him. 

It is raining right now and I will assume freezing on the snow and roads.  (At least that is what I just told the wee one so he doesn't drive to school like an idiot.  NOT driving like an idiot just makes good sense in any weather...) 

January 8, 2010 - We had some wet snow/rain/balls of ice the other day and it coated pretty much all surfaces.  My son came home from school to announce that all the kids were parked off in a bunch towards the stadium as if they didn't know how to park without visible lines showing on the parking lot.  He said in a very mature sounding voice, "High School kids can't do much without defined lines..."  At that second I could see him there with a tweed jacket, a pipe, and a large book sitting in an over stuffed chair by a fireplace somewhere.  There are moments when the boy has deep thoughts. 

DSC05240.JPG (16513 bytes)All of my married life (except for those bad years where I wanted him dead and his body drawn and quartered...but I digress and we won't get in to that here) if I get a 'cool' pen, I drag it home to my husband.  I received one in the mail at work from a supplier, and I opened it up and saw it was a fancy pen.  Immediately I make sounds like Gollum in 'Lord of the Rings' as I squirrelled it away in my purse to haul home to my husband.  "I gots a pen, precious...I gots a pen..." I said later when I gave it to him.  It's my own little pavlovian reaction to a nice ink pens.  Odd, but it's always been that way.   I have not tried to figure it out.  It's just one of those things that "is" and I can't change it.  Genetic predisposition to articles filled with ink must run in my family. 

My wee one's car wouldn't start yesterday.  He had stopped to get gas and couldn't start it after that.  He had this issue before a few weeks ago, but a jump from a kind stranger helped him get going again and he and his Dad cleaned the cable connections when the boy got home.  He called me as I was almost to the store after work and told me he was stranded.  I skipped the store and drove over to get him.  The men at the gas station were kind enough to help me push his car out of the way of the pumps.  I hauled him home, we got his Dad and jumper cables, then we all came back and to jump his car (it took right off with a jump.)  We decided to get the car home, go up and buy a new battery, and stop to get something to eat.   Once the car was running we told him we'd follow him home.  He left out one side of the gas station and I left out the other.  When I went around and saw him ready to pull out on to the main road, I slowed down so he could do just that - pull out so I could follow him.  Out pulled the car, I followed. 

Since I am thinking this whole time the car in front of us WAS my son's car, I kept commenting to my husband that one of his back lights were out.   "No, both lights are working..." he replied.  "No, there are only three, there should be four..." I said.  "What have you been smokin' woman?  His lights look fine to me..."  I gave up.  If my husband couldn't clearly see that the tail lights on the car in front of us was missing a light, then I felt bad for him and mumbled something related to him going to see the eye doctor.  

As we drove down the road to our house the car I thought was my son's kept driving past our house.  I started honking the horn..."Where is the idiot boy going?!!" I shouted and laughed as I pulled in to our driveway.  "Who?  What?!!" my husband said, "He's pulling in right behind us!" His voice was filled with concerned by now, and I'm sure he thought I was having a seizure or the had gone over some mental edge.  Apparently the car that pulled out in front of me on the main road by the gas station was a little red car, but NOT my SON'S CAR.  (Cars are cars - I can't tell one little red car from another!!)  My son had pulled out in back of us.  All this time I thought the car leading the way was my son!  Hahahahaa.....

Oh, and it was suggested that I make an appointment at the eye doctor today...

January 12, 2010 - The urge to roll around with abandon like a dog on the floor is strong this morning.  I think we should all do that from time to time - just get down and roll around for no reason in particular.  Stretch and roll.  I will wait, however, for a back up spotter.  Don't want to get down there and not be able to get back up...

My friend Kathy and I are back on the Weight Watcher band wagon.  We did very well on Monday morning weigh in.  We both took a year off practically...not a good thing.  I still have not had Stella the hernia fixed and she is beginning to piss me off, being all free roaming like she is, so it's time to get some fat out of the way so they can shove her back in.  If I don't get some fat out of the way first, however, I have no clue where she would be shoved in to - since there is no room at the inn as it stands now...

It has been cold and winter like.  (Go figure, it's Michigan after all.)  I like it.  When I ran in to town last week for lunch, there was one blue patch of sky peeking through an otherwise dull gray sky.   It looked out of place - almost like someone intentionally painted a big blue splotch on a cloud painting.  I have always wondered why I like it dark and cloudy and snowy.  I do not suffer from lack of sunlight depression like 99.9% of all humans do when it is wintertime.  Snowy, dark weather tends to make me giddy.  Ug.   Being not normal is a curse sometimes.  Although I have been very worried about various things, so maybe that is a form of winter depression?  I worry about my daughter and college and money - I worry about work and people not knowing what I know and they need to know what I know - I worry that my 17 year old son will never wake up when I yell at him and get out of bed in the morning because he is a 17 year old boy...

Last night I went to bed at 9:30 p.m. and last I looked at the clock it was 11:15 p.m.  I was exhausted, but still couldn't fall asleep.   I can't even remember what was in my head keeping me awake, but I couldn't sleep.   Maybe it's because I have a filling coming up on Thursday, and we all know how much I adore going to the dentist...

This has always perplexed me - why humans worry - and in particular why do humans choose certain times to worry over others?  I know that the brain has to make us aware of circumstance around us to protect us.   "Um, hey there lady - I would really start to worry about that cliff coming up that you are driving straight for at a high speed..." or "Errr, uh - I am pretty sure that if you don't chew that better my dear, you will probably choke to death..."   The brain is paid well to force us to think things though and be cautious at times.   However, some things we cannot control so why do we even bother being upset over it?  Humans can drive themselves in to a pit of despair for no good reason other than the fact we, well - WORRY TOO MUCH.  Much ado about nothing...Sigh.  Oh well.  We all fret and worry, so me fretting and worrying is no big whoop. It happens.   I will just get down on the floor with the dogs and roll like an idiot - then all things will be better. 

January 16, 2010 - The warmer weather has melted and iced over the packed down snow paths in the dog pen.  I have had countless minutes of fun watching the dogs go out to potty and slide around.  Kia just now was trying to pee and was sliding down an incline as she did so...much humor for me.  Humans can be so humor warped.  I have the same issue when I see things/people fall down - even myself.  Sometimes it makes me laugh hysterically to see someone fall.  I am not a cruel person, mind you (ok, maybe a little when it comes to enjoying the site of large dogs sliding down a hill as they pee) but there are times when people fall that makes me bust a gut laughing.  Sigh.   I am not sure where this comes from.  Perhaps it's just a primitive thing.   Oh, I will help you if you fall and I will bandage your wounds and call 911, but I'm gonna laugh... 

I need to stop at my Aunt's house to help her fix her start bar on her PC.  She has dragged it all over and now is having problems finding it.  I tried to talk her through it over the phone, but it's hard to explain such things over the phone.  Kudos to all the help desks around the world that can talk people through this sort of thing without actually being there.  I have to have hands on to fix stuff.  I would be lost at work in my IT area if I didn't have a way to tap in to people's machines and help them. 

January 19, 2010 - Work yesterday was overwhelming.  I drove home in a dazed and confused state.  When I got home, my youngest was sleeping so no chores were done and my husband was not home yet.   In my state of daze, I started supper and yelled at my son to get his butt out of bed. (Primal scream therapy is not to be overlooked when one is dazed and confused.) I then let the dogs out to do their business and proceeded to shut the screen door on my my left hand index finger, taking a large chunk of skin off in the process. 

The pain was quite intense.  It brought me out of my dazed state to say the least.  I held pressure on the cut as I dealt with the pain.  I have a high pain tolerance which comes from giving birth to working hard labor in a factory for years, but that intense finger pain was hard to over come last night for some reason.  I was silent for a long time as I pushed the pain away with my mind.  (Brains are marvelous tools if used correctly.)  I ran cold water over the poor finger for the longest time to ease the pain.  I couldn't talk.  I was just, well - quiet and in dire pain.  It hurt so much I was thinking I had broken the poor thing.  That is a prime booger pickin' finger - I didn't want to lose her.   Once my brain gave the all clear that the pain was ebbing, I could feel the numbness.  Ouch.  That's all I gots to say about that.  Nothing is broken, I still have the majority of the use I had before, and I will make a valiant attempt not to run around in a dazed state from this point forward.  I am getting older - shutting things in doors is no longer an option as limbs don't tend to grow back.

After supper and the blood letting, I went to the Band Parents meeting. As I was driving home from the meeting I heard a song by Jim Croce ('You Don't Mess Around with Jim') and started crying!!!  What the heck!?  Not once have I ever considered that song to be emotional in any way (except for, of course, poor Jim - who got his butt kicked in the end by Slim) and there I was crying over it.   Ug.  Humans - go figure.

When I got in the house, I got myself a glass of wine.   (I had four points left on WW and decided to use it up in a small glass of wine - which was a mistake as I would have much rather had real food.  I am not a wine fan but it was left over from Christmas so I thought - "Hey, why not?"  Well, YOU DON'T LIKE WINE AND YOU REALLY WANTED CRACKERS is why not!!)  I finished up some work on line that had to be done, then worked on an issue for the Band's website until 11 p.m.  Finally got it all fixed.  Learning never stops - even if you are minus a finger and crying over a song from the early 70s for no good reason and gagging on wine.  

Sleep eluded me last night for the longest time, although I feel much better this morning.  My finger is fully functional again.   I will wear a Spongebob Band-Aid to work to protect the area that is most damaged.   I will embrace this day as it comes and not get dazed by what the day contains.   I will remember to breathe and take one thing at a time, and I won't pull the mask on that old Lone Ranger and I won't mess around with Slim.......

January 24, 2010 - It was a nice relaxing weekend.  Saturday my husband had to work and my youngest was at a friends house, so I had the morning to myself.  (Finally!)  My daughter had asked on Friday to come over on Saturday morning, but I told her "No!"  I was being quite selfish in wanting just a few hours of alone time.  I did a little house work here and there on Saturday morning, took a shower, and then went in to get my hair cut and my roots colored.  As Terri was cutting my bangs (that, by the way, had been driving me nuts all week yet I don't dare cut them myself because I can't cut hair to save my life) I started to cry.  Then it finally hit me. I am crying because I am getting my hair cut??  I am so happy that I am getting my hair cut, I start to cry?   HORMONES!  I am nigh on 50, so it dawned on me this might be related to menopause.  That made me laugh.  The ladies in the shop totally understood.   Being a girl has it's perks, but I can see there are some down sides as well...Once it had been established I was hormonal in some way or another, I felt surprisingly better. 

I remember my Mom's decent in to menopause and it wasn't pretty.  The years I can remember from about age 3 on up, if something went wrong, Mom was on the floor in a heap crying.  I assumed back then this was natural for a mother to come apart at the drop of a hat.  I know now why she was acting that way but at the time...I had a Mom that DID cry over spilt milk.   She would cry about a lot of things if my memory serves me correctly.  My mother could have used estrogen therapy but back in the early 60s I doubt that was even considered.  I am not afraid of menopause.  It is going to happen.  (As long as I know what is going on I will be fine.  Viva being human!)

So, I have my bangs cut - thank goodness - and my roots are colored but the color Terri did this time sort of made my hair darker and red...although I am not complaining, mind you.  It doesn't look bad at all, and someone touched my hair.  That is the key point - I love to have my hair played with.   Terri could have colored it purple for all I care, as long as she touched it.   That is the ultimate in relaxation for me.  So if I have a hormonal fit and start crying over something stupid, just pet me on the head...it will calm me right down.

January 25, 2010 - The temps go up to 41 degrees yesterday, so all the snow and layers of ice in the dog pen turned to mud and the layers and layers of dog crap that had been stealthily building there there reared their ugly heads.  I spent a good deal of time yesterday afternoon raking and shoveling crap.  What a load of crap!  I try to keep up with the poop piles even when there is snow, but apparently there are some that make it past my watch.   Once that was done and it was safe to navigate the dog pen once again, I took down the Christmas lights that were hanging on the dog fence.  There was also fluffy puffs of white guts from a toy they ate a month or so ago that was all over the ground out there - I did NOT pick those up.  I like snow, so I left the fluffy guts stay there as an illusion of sorts. 

I have to call the doctor today.  Sigh.  I made a deal with me bum that I would.  Seems I'm having issues with hemorrhoids or something up in that general area and I promised my tush I'd call if things were not right by today.  Things are still not right.  Me bum has reminded me in no uncertain terms that I will call the doctor today.  When it comes down to preference, I'm much rather cry over getting my bangs cut than have paparazzi snappin' pictures up my anal area, but whadya gonna do?  As one ages, one must have maintenance work done, and since all of your body part's warranties are up, YOU have to pay for it all.   Sigh.  My Mom had colon cancer at one point in her life, so I suppose I will be good to my lower half and call the doc.  Plus, I've only lost 5 pounds so far on WW, and I think it's because I have not 'moved' or done any walking or movement because I'm afraid I'd explode something out the rear - so getting this fixed will be a definite plus to my weight loss, not to mention the fun I'll have describing in detail all the doctor visits.  (Oh, I can blame it on the rump, but in reality I've used ALL my extra points every week and then some...I have not been trying too hard...)

The week doesn't look too jammed pack with any sort of excitement, but now that I've said that I'm sure something huge will happen.  The wee one has exams this week so I will be pestering him to study.  The boy never studies.   It frustrates me beyond words that the wee one DOESN'T STUDY.  He carries a A- to B- in his classes without STUDYING!!  (Anything below a C and he loses the rights to his car...)  I try to stress the fact he could be an A+ student if he only TRIED.   He sees no need to try.  (Boys are easier to raise than girls up until about the age of 13, then their "that makes complete sense" logic gene gets over taken by their stupid "Meh-too much work" gene and it's a battle all the way after that...) 

I mentioned on my Facebook status that the average service cycle of a dishwasher in my house is 18 years, then they tend to move out...I made myself laugh with that one.

January 29, 2010 - I went in for a lower region inspection and tire rotation on Tuesday.   Me bum is fine.  All is well in Sandy's Bum Land.  The doc made me laugh - after he started the finger pointing as it were, he said, "Well, we know it's not a fissure!" and I asked as causally as someone can with someone's finger up their bum, "How do you know?" and he said, "If it were a fissure, I'd be peeling you off the wall over there..."   Apparently fissures are painful.  He couldn't find any issue and we discussed a colonoscopy and the timing of one, but all in all - all is well.  He prescribed pain relieving waxy insertions objects and since then, I must say, the pain has been less and less every day.

Yesterday at work was a comedy of errors, I swear.   It started out with a phone training session with a nice lady in Mexico (who had limited English skills comparable to my limited Spanish skills) that ended up being informative but it took forever to say the one thing we needed to hear and know.  Ug.   It's amazing how much you can convey with the words 'OK' and 'YES' ... There were times I did say 'YES' or 'OK' to things I wasn't quite sure she was saying so I hope I don't commit myself to anything like putting her kids through college or the like...

Then I worked on a printer a customer had sent us (for the the soul purpose of printing some coupons for their products) and failed miserably.   It worked at first, but when I left last night I kept getting errors on the ribbon feed.  Of course, this fine printer probably cost 12.95 on eBay, and it has the loudest RIBBON OUT warning sound I've ever heard.  Ug.  I left it on my desk at work to play with today if I get a chance.  I doubt I will...I hope I don't.   Since it's end of the month, the singing beeping bleeping printer will have to wait its turn.

The day was just crazy in general overall and I was doing the best I could to retain some sanity when I got a call from my wee one at home (half day of school due to exams so he was home early) and he said the wireless router at home was not working.  I looked at the caller ID on my phone and made a 'Mom' face as if it was physically HIM standing there and said with a sigh after every word that there wasn't a whole lot I could do about that from work.  I was, after all, AT WORK.   I tried to stress that to him.  He tried to explain all the things he had tried and I said 'OK' and 'YES' a lot.  Finally I just told him, "You will have to wait 'til I get home, honey.  It's end of the month!"  Seventeen year olds don't comprehend the concept 'End Of The Month"....

Then, my husband called.  He never calls me at work unless it's to ask "what's for dinner?" or "My car broke down!"   He was eating his lunch and wanted to talk.  I know he wanted to talk, but I couldn't take the time right then.  He tends to take a long time to get to a point of what he really wants to say so I finally told him I had to go, even though I know he wanted to talk about something... Then he called again at 4:48 p.m. from our driveway to announce he had his W2.  He said it in his manly "I just killed a bison for for dinner" voice.  Sigh.  I told him I would talk to him when I got home but I wasn't doing taxes tonight..

I came home prepared to work on the home wireless router for hours.  I did work on the router for hours, but the original problem my son was having was because the cable from the modem to the router had come out.   Since I was prepared to clean things up and trace lines and all, I decided I was just going to do it anyway.  I coiled wires, and swept behind things, and I taped stuff up and tacked stuff down.  I redid all the electrical plugs so they were not twisted around each other like snakes in heat and then dusted off all the items that were dusty.  My son still couldn't get a signal upstairs!  After all that!  I rebooted the router and checked all the IPs and ...  long story short, I have no CLUE why he is having wireless access issues upstairs and by 9:30 p.m. I decided it could wait another day since I am sure doctors don't want to come home and perform surgery on small dogs and family members and high sea fishermen don't want to come home and clean the goldfish bowl either...  

January 31, 2010 - Did you see the full moon on Friday night!?  How awesome was that?   Wow.  Just...wow.  Even with the bitter cold, it was worth a half hour in the freezing weather to watch it rise.  (I am, after all, self insulated.)  I dragged my husband out to look, but he only stayed for 12 seconds and ran back in. 

I am the proud owner of a new battery.  My car's battery decided it was a good time to call it quits.  My husband got stranded in my car on Saturday night, but managed to get her to kick in and driver her home before I left to rescue him.  After he got home, I went out and started her up and drove around a bit, and she was fine.  I attributed the whole ordeal to the fact that my car resented another driver.  However, this morning when I attempted to start the car up to go to the store, she spitted and sputtered and ceased to work.  I made my husband take me up to get a new battery.  When they tested my old battery, she was indeed in dire need of replacement.  So, both Fords in our car harem needed new batteries this month.  Odd.  I wonder if each make/model takes turns?

Besides the battery fun and the huge full moon, it was a non-eventful weekend.  Well, I did get the router fixed... and my son bumped another car with his car on Saturday night, and didn't bother to tell me when he got home - he just left me a note in the middle of the night...but other than a new battery, the full moon, and a possible issue with him denting his friends car, it was non-eventful.   Oh, and I made beef and noodles for Sunday supper along with Weight Watcher's cheese biscuits and my oldest son came over to partake with us.  It was nice to see him.  He will be back next weekend so I can do his taxes.  I hope my daughter can come as well, and I can do her taxes.  Getting taxes out of the way is a good thing.  I e-filed ours last night.  So, other than the full moon, getting our taxes done, fixing my wireless router issues, my new car battery, and my son playing bumper cars - it was a non-eventful weekend.

I have taken a hot tub soak every night for days.   I am running water as I type for another nice hot tub soak.  All of my 'edges' ache like one would ache prior to coming down with the flu.  I don't feel bad, mind you - just my 'edges' ache.  (It makes sense in my head and really, isn't that all that matters.)  Everyone has headed to bed and I will be basting myself in a nice hot bathtub full of Sandalwood bath salts here pretty soon.  Not a bad way to bid January adieu...

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