Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Last Week...

We're now 1-1. First game's official score was 24-3 (sorry).

Last week, we lost. It was a good loss - we played well, they just played better. Score was 17-10.

Guess where I started the game?

Yep. Right field. Our third base? Didn't want to play.

Fourth inning, Mr. Realist said something to our third base coach...who said something to our 'coach', who told our captain that third and right field were switching next inning.

Shocked me - I wasn't expecting it. I like third.

Second or third batter...she shoots one right in between me and the actual base. I backhand catch it, and since the batter's pretty fast and almost to first, I off-throw (thrown off of my back leg instead of front leg)...


He he he...

Seventh inning...almost had to dive for one. Scooped it up, winged it to second...

OUT! (L didn't have the time to turn two (out at second, turn and fire fast enough to get first out))

Everyone after the game was like 'Holy S**T! You're really good at third!

Nah, it's not so much that as I'm not afraid of dirt, or falling in the dirt, or getting bruised - I'll take one for the team. I love the dirt.

In fact, if the Amortentia potion from HP were real, mine would smell like new mown hay, sheets dried in the sun, Mr. Realist after a shower, and freshly turned dirt.

I could be a farmer, just for disking season. I love that smell.

Yeah, I like dirt. I need a softball shirt that says "Dirt Diva."

Anyway...wow, that was off and running on a tangent, wasn't it? Phew!

We've got a make-up game tomorrow night since we were rained out two weeks ago. Wish us luck!

Mrs. Dreamer

Chocolate is a girl's best friend...

Or at least this cake is. I made it for Mr. Realist's family reunion this past weekend...and there wasn't much left. It doesn't beg for icing.

Heck, it flat out refuses icing.

"I'm too good for icing. I don't need your sugary vibe messing up my groove!"

I make mine in a scallope Bundt pan (you know, the ones with the grooves? makes cutting even slices easier...I swear). Grease and flour that baby up and preheat your oven to 350 degrees (Fahrenheit)

Take one box chocolate cake mix (I use Pillsbury most of the time)
1/2 cup oil
1 cup H2O (that's water, for you non-chemist types)
4 large eggs
and one regular box of Jell-o instant chocolate pudding

Blend on medium speed for 2 minutes, pour into Bundt pan.
Bake for 40-45 minutes (or until toothpick or something like it inserted comes out clean).

Cool for 25 minutes or so before removal.

Now, I've never had a cake that came out of the oven flat. They always have crowns. I used my handy-dandy cake leveler (thanks, Jen!) and cut off the rounded, uneven top (which then became the bottom).

Darn. What to do with the little cake layer? :)

It's fabulous with real vanilla ice cream...or I had it with blueberries from the remains of a fruit salad on Saturday. Or raspberries. Mmmm...blackberries might be good as well.

Hey - you're eating fruit, too!

Have another piece...I won't tell.

Mrs. Dreamer

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Sorry sorry sorry...

I will post something this week. To be honest, I haven't really had time. Between softball practice and games, knitting night, and trying to finish a fan-fiction challenge entry, I've been one busy bee! I haven't forgotten about you all, but I will leave you with this:

I made a chocolate cake to die for - one that is so moist, it doesn't need or want icing! :)

Mrs. Dreamer

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Father's Day

When I got married, my grandfather walked me down the aisle. When I asked him to give me away, he couldn't understand why. He wondered why I didn't ask my mom or either of my uncles. "Because it's important to me that you do it." Later on, my grandmother told me that meant so much to him, that I loved him that much that I asked him to do that honor. My grandpa is the exact opposite of me in that he doesn't like being the center of attention for anything. He had so much trouble at the rehearsal remembering what to say when our preacher asks 'Who gives this woman to this man?' Loud and clear on our wedding day, so that everyone in the chapel heard him, he remembered 'Her family and I do.'

You might ask why my grandfather gave me away instead of my dad. Hmm - when you find him, you can ask him. You see, I was an 'oops.' My mom had just graduated high school and got pregnant with me. When she told the SD (sperm donor) about it, his last words to her were 'It's not mine.' My great-aunt (who helped deliver me) made the comment at the 'family meeting' my mom had called to let everyone know that she thought it best if she just gave the baby up for adoption. 'Over my dead body.' Even before I was born, my grandfather was defending me - my knight in shining armor. I lived with my grandparents until I was three, and because of some circumstances, they were actually trying to adopt me. My uncle was still in high school, so I already had a 'big brother.' I went to live with my mom and her new boyfriend.

When I was four, the boyfriend became her husband, my stepdad, and dad to my sister JR all in the same year. Until I was 12 (when they finally divorced), he was my father. If you grew up in an alcoholic and/or abusive household, I feel your pain. I know - I've been there. Surprisingly enough, I turned out to be a semi-well-adjusted, fully-functioning member of society. We'll leave that story for another time. However, I did not know he was not my dad until the summer I left my mom. That knowledge made me cry - that was good news that he wasn't my father.

When I was 14, my aunt married this really great guy who, in the span of four months got married, moved in with her, and acquired a 'daughter'. See, I went from a straight-A student to a C & D student. Divorce can do that to children. It didn't help that I became mom to JR and didn't have time to study and keep house and dinner and help with her homework. It scared the rest of my family. Grandparents, two uncles and an aunt decided that if they didn't do something, I might not have finished high school (and this all was the final result of one of the bravest things that my friend C ever did...and I will never quit thanking her). I moved in with my aunt and uncle. It was a mahoosive change, going from a household that didn't care what you did, whether or not you failed school, or who you were hanging out with (unless it interferred with her plans) to having a 'mom' and a 'dad' who worried about you, were always questioning about your day and school and boys and friends and sports. I panicked and rebelled. Things smoothed out. My grades skyrocketed (graduated with honors). I got into college. I hit rough patches (who hasn't), but even though I stumbled, I picked myself up and slogged on.

Even though the three men I write this for will most likely never see it, it is written for them. I had a father/daughter dance at my reception, split between those three very special guys.

None of them are my father, but they are all my Dads.

Remember to tell your dad, grandpas, and uncles "Happy Father's Day."

I feel blessed that I have three.

Mrs. Dreamer

Old Timey Jokes

Ok, I have to share this with you - it was damn funny!

Realist and I were coming out of the Mart of Wal from obtaining last minute Father's Day cards, some triple A-batteries and allergy meds for Realist, contact solution for me, and assorted other little things that we would have forgotten about tomorrow. As we were walking out the door on the grocery side, we saw two groups of teenagers on either side of the entrance and exit doors.

Loitering little... Ahem. I digress.

We walk out, and Realist goes "What the -?" and points to my left. I look down and see a dollar bill lying on the ground!

And then I saw the fishing line...attached to a fishing pole...held by one of the loitering little teens.

"Nope, they're too smart," one kid said. There were a couple of guys with camcorders, one with a camera, several standing around and one with the fishing pole of gullibility (is that even a word? Is now.). We walked to the car and sat there under the pretense of unfogging the windows. Really we were just there to see if anyone else fell for it. We didn't have to wait long.

Guy and gal (she's pushing the cart) come out and he sees the bill. He puts a foot out to step on it and it moves. He two-steps and comes face to face with the fisherman. Realist and I were yucking it up in the car until the windows were actually clear. We left, purposely driving past them to give them all a big thumbs-up. Now who says that the oldies aren't goodies, and there's nothing fun to do in the 'patch anymore?

Amused the hell out of us!

Mrs. Dreamer

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Hot Times, Summer in the...well

We're not exactly the city, right? :)

Realist and I have stuck with the WiiActive for eight days now. I was looking forward to working out...but it's a rest day. Boo. My friend Heather saw me for the first time in about a week, and she made the comment that 'you're losing weight, aren't you?' Holy hells, someone's noticed! I haven't noticed...yet...that my clothes are fitting differently, but whenever someone tells you something like that, it's always nice.

We didn't get to play on Monday due to the torrential rains that happened around here, so I'm looking forward to next week (hope we'll get to play!).

It's been a slow week so far (and it's only Thursday). I celebrated my eighth anniversary with the company I work for today. Not bad, considerng it's my first official, full-time, welcome to the real world job ever! Not much else has been going on, with the exception of writing a Mary-Sue fanfiction story and trying to WoW a bit.

Heepwah, have fun, and be safe out there.

Mrs. Dreamer

Sunday, June 14, 2009

O dear Lord...

*saved from ihasahotdog dot com - amen, little goggie. that would be heaven...*

I have been a very busy woman this week - my apologies for not posting since Wednesday *please do not throw cupcakes at me...I repeat, DO not throw cupcakes at me :) That is all*

No, just kidding. Let's see, what have I done this week?

Wednesday night - WiiActive for the first time and found out just how not a good shape round is.

Thursday night - WiiActive, day 2; tried writing another chapter for my Beta on my actual novel; actually wrote some on a fan-fiction story I'm writing for a challenge; and ran a heroic dungeon in WoW (fair to middling XP[experience points], some necessary Badges of Justice).

Friday night - WiiActive night off in the 30-Day Challenge...but went up to Central Park and played catch and bat with Laura for over an hour (worked up a sweat, yo!); and relaxed and tried to write some more. Friday night wasn't all fun and games though. We got home from work and were mucking about in the kitchen when Realist saw the next-door neighbor kid to the east of us come out the front and head towards the back. I was in the bedroom, and we watched him out of the window that faces their yard. The little a-hole had a box of matches and was headed into our backyard!! I headed out the front door, very quietly, and Realist lowered the window. D heard him and scooted behind the bush that divides our yard.

"I can still see you, D," Realist called him out. He kept trying to hide, so I ran back inside, got a book and turned our patio chairs (note: no table because the wind tossed it and shattered it - a nice, heavy glass-topped one...grr) so that I could sit and he wouldn't come into the yard. B, the neighbor kid to the west of us, came through the small spot between our dog pen and the end of their privacy fence. He asked if we might have seen who stole their trampoline skin (that's the part that attaches to the springs, if you didn't know. I didn't.) the night before. We heard the dogs, but that's about it. You'll have to understand Daisy and Duke (not intentional) - they bark at people, rabbits, birds, squirrels, kids, anything that they can see 'trespassing' on their domain (read: anything they can see :D ). Anyway, the lady next door made the comment that they really needed to fence in the entire backyard because of that. I asked about why part of the fence was broken - I figured B & his cousins were taking part of it down to 'build' a clubhouse. Wasn't them.

I know I shouldn't jump to conclusions, but here's the deal: the brat to the east has taken a blue bingo dobber and colored in the numbers on the house front, drawn smiley faces on the side facing us, colored the inside shutters of the little girl's dollhouse next to them and the stove inside it, broken the door of the dollhouse (it's one of the FP plastic ones that no one sells in yard sales because they're a precious commodity), broken out the window in the shed of the house they're living in, thrown garbage and sticks and tent poles and plastic animals and shaving cream in the dog pen. Yeah, I jumped to the obvious conclusion that D was tearing up the fence little by little. Where did we assume he was going with the matches? Either the fence or to put lit matches in the birdhouse we have attached to the corner post.

They're supposed to be moving this week. Thanks, Lord. I don't know how much more of him I can take.

Back to the weekend...where was I? Oh yes.

Saturday - was going to get up and mow the grass, but played WoW all day. It was rather nice! Went to Scheizenfest in Highland with a friend of ours. How fun is this (insert sarcastic voice here)? I got to meet Realist's first ex-girlfriend! Exciting! Thrilling! God, was she ever annoying! It's like she didn't progress past the seventh grade when they were 'dating'! Came home & crashed.

Sunday - got up early, and went to St. Louis for the Buddy Walk. It's for families and friends of children and adults with Down Syndrome. My good friend Jen's daughter has Down Syndrome, and I just want to squeeze her to pieces every time I see her! She's a very happy child (she's two), and very bright. She's beautiful, as were all the kids that I saw there with DS. I'm glad Jen asked me to go. I'm humbled by the love that families and friends show their loved ones, and it saddens me to think of all the ones that were 'taken care of' before they were born or shuttled off to 'special' homes because they were unwanted. Boo.

Came home, mowed just our yard. We were going to mow the east side's yard, but I found three more chunks of my desert glass, a large piece crystal, one curved brick (broken in two), and my shells in their yard. O, wait, there's more: one tent stake, several tent poles, and FOUR STEAK KNIVES, just scattered in the yard! Are you EFFING serious?! Hire someone to watch your damn kids while you're at work? Should not be your fifteen-year old's duty!

Had softball practice for two hours this evening...Laura and I have just about had it with being screamed at for something that the screamer's not doing, either. We're working better together as a team...now, if they'll just keep us where we were at tonight (I rotated center field, shortstop and third). Took a bad bounce to the right kneecap, so I can't wait to see what my knee looks like in the morning! Didn't get to work out, but I think the two hours of softball more than makes up for the twenty minutes of WiiActive that I didn't get. I'll not work out tomorrow, as I have a game, so I'll just work out the next two days of rest to make up for it...or maybe not! :)

Going to change out the laundry and hit the hay.

O, and there's been no thigh-mutiny to speak of. They still grumble, but they're learning to adapt.

Heepwah, have fun, and please be safe out there.

Mrs. Dreamer

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

We Active!

Sorry. Should be 'Wii Active." Realist and I bought a Wii Active yesterday and began the 30-day challenge today. I might be a bit overweight (read: are you kidding? a bit? a BIT?), but I play softball every summer. I use the push mower. I shovel snow, rake leaves, do a bit of gardening. I'm so very out of shape.

Round is a shape, though, isn't it?

Anyway...where was I? Oh yeah. Realist had his yearly checkup last week, and they took some blood to test for diabetes, his cholesterol, triglycerides, etc. etc. etc. They also scheduled him for a liver/gallbladder/stomach sonogram and an upper GI for Monday. He's good...but right at the cusp of becoming a diabetic. His mom's side is all diabetic (mom, four aunts, grandmother, grandfather...), so it just might be hereditary. Realist is a very large man. We are now on a regimented diet and exercise program. Red meat once a week. Main dish is veggies or pasta with chicken or turkey or fish. Realist is a work out in the morning kind of guy. Me? I'm a crabass in the morning until I've had my shower. Let me work out in the evening, shower, and I can sleep all night long. So, this Wii Active? Some walking, some running, curls, boxing, inline skating, lunges, all on the low intensity setting...

OHMYGOD! What did I sign up for? I'm out of my friggin mind! My thighs are going to start a mutiny, for Pete's sake! I'm vowing to keep at this for 30 days, even when I have a softball game. Anyone have any good advice for keeping on track with this?

Because if I lose my thighs to mutiny, other parts might start to follow.

And that's bad.

Heepwah (& hf-bsot)
Mrs. Dreamer

Undefeated - The Explanation

*again, not my picture. saved it from icanhascheezburger dot com*
Where to begin? I guess I'll start at the beginning.

*note: mild swearing*

Monday was our first softball game of the summer. Game didn't actually get started until 8.30pm. We were down in the American Legion Pit in Carlinville. The mosquitos? HORRENDOUS! Dive-bombing little bastardos! Anyway...where was I? Oh yeah. As you can guess from the title, we won. We're 1-0...and we won by the 20 by 3 rule. That's where if one team scores 20 more runs than the other team by the third inning, the game's over. 25-5 was the score (I think). We saw three other teams that evening, and we're the only ones in 'uniform' - we all have pink shirts. Not baby pink, but fuschia pink. Amantacha pink (you know what I mean, C). Lurid pink. I love them (now all I need is a pair of lime green socks...).

But that's not what's bothering me. I show up for practice (except the one where Realist and I went to Oma's for his birthday dinner). I work my ass off at practice. I will DIVE for the ball if necessary. The two practices? 'Steph, go three.' 'Steph, go third.' Third base line's a hot zone.

Where'd I play?

Right field.

Have you ever played softball - either fast or slow pitch? Right field is the Dead Zone. Unless you've got a leftie up to bat, or an incredibly good righty that can hit towards the end of the bat and shoot it to the right side, your right fielder might as well have a book in her pocket, or an mp3 player or an easel with some frigging paints! for all the action she gets out there. Here's the kicker.

Hot Zone?

Didn't move up for our catcher to be able to toss her the ball to get a girl force-out at third. Stood there and looked at her like a cow would look at a cloud. Our catcher tried (she's a good friend), and it pissed her off. Rightly so, don't you think? Our catcher...is a SUB!

Hell and damnation.

I really want lime green soccer socks for this year.

Heepwah (& hf-bsot)
Mrs. Dreamer

Tuesday, June 9, 2009


I'll give you more tomorrow. Right now, it's 10:41, and I didn't get to bed until after 11pm last night, so please forgive me.

Mrs. Dreamer


*Angel statue in Le Coeur ('the heart') of Camp Ondessonk. She stands up in front of the turtle pond. She's beautiful, and I want to bring her home with me*

*Heepwah: incredibly versatile word. Indian (sorry, Native American) word meaning 'all is good,' 'congratulations,' 'I agree,' 'fantastic,' and all other words that express positivity. Can be used in place of clapping*

So...as you know, I'm back from Camp. Realist and I spent twelve glorious hours in the place where I felt most at home apart from Oma's. You'll have to bear with me. Thinking about Camp makes me want to cry because I'm not there.

Does that sound weird to anyone else? Probably, but if you've never experienced Camp Ondessonk, you can't understand it. I spent one week there ever summer from the time I was eleven (summer after fifth grade) until I was fifteen (fifth year camper), and then two summers after that (four weeks in my first summer during Girls Camp, and seven weeks my second summer in Girls and Coed Camp).

Attending a Catholic grade school (St. Cabrini in Springfield), we got to hear about Camp from a couple of its full-time, year-round staff (C, Gene made the 'Goupil's got 10,000 steps to the top' comment at the reunion!), and we (Colleen and I) just had to go. First year, Andrea went with us; second year, my cousin Erin went with us, and then, it was just Colleen and I (see a pattern here?). I was inducted into the Lodge of Tekakwitha our third year. We were in the flagship year of Specialty Camp (it's Adventure Camp now - Horsemanship was the best!) our fourth year. Our fifth year, our whole unit looked up to us - we were the ones who'd been there forever.

For three summers, we were in Lalemant (Orange Crush!). Fourth, for S.C., we were in Daniel (say: Dahn-e-el, not Dan-yil), and fifth - we just had to stay in Daniel again :) Waking up to Reville; hiking, canoeing and boating, horseback riding, archery and riflery, handicrafts, swimming and woodsmanship during the day (all broken up, of course - not enough hours in the day to do all of that!); and bunking down to the faint strains of Taps

Sunday: Arrival! Heepwah! Opening Campfire

Monday: Unit Campfire - see if a unit across the lake can hear you yell!

Tuesday: Night Game - for us, it was Espionage (what Spies and Secret Agents had to do with camping, I don't think we'll ever know) - na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, we're the Spies!

Wednesday: Unit Overnight - got to camp out under the stars, have foil burgers (C, we still do them every time we go camping!), and vote a couple of people from your unit into Lodge.

Thursday: Lodge Ceremony - one of the best nights; watch Indian (sorry, Native American...) dances, big bonfire, and Secret Circle (if you were being inducted).

Friday: Closing Campfire and skits - the night everyone swore they'd be Camp buddies forever. Some stayed, some didn't, but the memories will always be there.

Saturday: dumb parents had to come pick us up...you know, I always wished they'd forget me there and I'd get to stay all summer.

This past Saturday wasn't much of an exception. C, remember getting to Camp our first year waaaay early and having to sit in the car, wating for the gates to open? Yeah...we only got there about fifteen minutes early on Saturday :). We had lunch (ran into Trish B!), and set out. We headed up to Archery where Realist got to shoot a bow and arrow...and he's quite good. Hiked around; showed him Lalande, Goupil, Chabanel (cave unit), Lalemant, Brebeuf, and Tekakwitha; took him over Amantacha Bridge (poor guy - he doesn't like driving over bridges. He almost lost it walking over this one {didn't help that it's a 'swinging' bridge}), went down on the Spillway (got some good pictures), ran into Becky Becky B and Tim B (her brother). Came back to Le Coeur for the Dedication. There's now a rock monument - just a slab, really - that has this:

"Celebrating 50 Years of Camp Spirit!
This stone stands in tribute to all of the campers, staff and volunteers who have lived and shared the spirit of Camp Ondessonk.
Where God's creation sings to the soul."

I teared up; the Bishop blessed it with holy water and a leafy tree stick; and we walked down to the Grotto for Mass. Don't get me wrong, I can handle Mass with the best of them. Bishop (yeah, sad to say, I really didn't catch his name, and he doesn't strike me as a very friendly type...) - big goofy hat and all - was just very monotone. Trekked up past Tek to the new dining hall. It's NICE - still got the colored lights for the hoppers, though! Think they might have just moved them from the old DH! Got to sing the Camp song as we left, so that was fabulous! Trekked back down to the Grotto for Closing Campfire (probably walked 10 miles or so that day).

There were reminiscences from the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s (I wasn't in on that one - I don't think I was there long enough for anyone to remember me...boo), and the 2000s (zeroes? aughts? oh-ohs? That was all Dan King...I've even got a picture of that man when he was younger with his shirt off!). Steve H (yes, yes, I am Heve Stutch!) told a good story. We sang silly songs - Yellow Ribbon, MTA (didn't know this one), Muscle in the Arm, Little Bunny Foo Foo, Three Jolly Fishermen (Mr. Dan King messed this one up!), and Realist loved the Penguin Company song (remind me to teach it to you all some time). There were three closing songs - Camp Ondessonk (to the tune of O Christmas Tree), and As The Embers Die Away...and the Echo 'Our Father.' This one made me cry like it did fourteen years ago. I've never been able to finish that song. And we were gone.

I lied. C, I didn't make it up to Hog's Bluff or Pakentuck (damn the time constraints), nor did I get to stargaze in the parking lot (didn't want to get runned over by leaving alumni).

I did, however, lie in the middle of Le Coeur in the dark, Realist sitting on the stones in front of the turtle pond, and tried my hardest not to let tears drip into my ears.

Realist understood. He said had he been here as a kid, he's pretty sure he'd feel the same way I do. I'm going to find a way to volunteer there for a week every summer, if I can.

God, I miss Camp O.

If you'll excuse me, I've got to go blow my nose.

Have fun, and be safe out there, and HEEPWAH!
Mrs. Dreamer

Peace, Love, and Ondessonk
~~on my new tie-dyed Camp shirt

Monday, June 8, 2009

I haven't...

forgotten about you, my lovely blog (and my lovely readers!). I'll post late tonight, after my first softball game of the summer. There'll be a Camp posting as well, with a couple of pictures. I'll let you know this - if I could make a living off of being a Camp O counselor for the rest of my natural life, I would move Thomas and the dogs and the rats down to Ozark in a nanosecond at ludicrous speed (which is really, REALLY fast).

*overheard from three girls on Saturday*
Heep to the wah, to the wah-wah-wah-Heep-wah - HEEPWAH!

*I'll explain the word as well, to everyone but Colleen! :)*

Have fun, be safe out there, and HEEPWAH!

Mrs. Dreamer

Thursday, June 4, 2009


*picture is not mine - saved from ihasahotdog dot com, but he does look like Duke when he was not a 60-lb lap dog*

Hello all out there! How was your day? Mine wasn't bad. Work is work, but I did get to go golfing this evening. I haven't golfed in almost two years. My hands hurt from gripping the club, but I had a good time. Couple of guys from work (Austin and Nick) and I went. Only played nine holes. Really don't think I could have played anymore. It's a comfortable ache everywhere!

How incredible is this weather?! Realist and I had the windows open all last night...all day today...and will be open all night tonight. Hooray for cool weather (even though it is June).

This is bad. It's 9.12pm on a Thursday night, and I'm ready to crawl into bed, read a couple of chapters of Half-Blood Prince and zonk out for the night!

Have fun and be safe out there,
Mrs. Dreamer

Wednesday, June 3, 2009


I promise that I will update tomorrow...I got sucked into a dungeon run, and now I'm tired! I know how much you guys look forward to my 'stream-of-consciousness' rambling that I do so well!

TWO more days until summer camp - HEEPWAH!

Have fun, and be safe out there,

Mrs. Dreamer

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Wife of a Different Color

Last week, we mowed our yard and the neighbor's yard. There's a reason behind mowing the neighbor's. The house we bought used to be our friend Carla's (we started renting it from her when she couldn't afford it anymore, and she sold it to us six months later). The house to the east is where her grandma used to live (she's gone now). We've been mowing that yard for three years now - two years because a 91-year old lady who has just enough strength to haul her 80 pound body around definitely can't mow a yard. This summer, the renter doesn't have a mower (he's newly divorced), so we keep mowing as to keep up the neighborhood. The first year, Grandma tried to pay us in money because we 'didn't need to mow an old lady's grass for free.' You know how hard it is to take money from someone on a fixed income? We'd put it back in her hands and walk away...so she figured she'd start paying us in Cokes and Twinkies (yeah, like Realist and I need that stuff, ha ha), and she did that the first year and last year. She'd been in the nursing home, so the family decided to rent it out. Enter third year. Neighbor's girlfriend and her three kids moved in a couple of months ago. C (girl) is 15, B (boy) is 11 or 12, and D (boy) is 9 or 10. D is kind of slow, and I guess he's learned to use that to his advantage. When Realist catches him doing something he's not supposed to be (like beating on the siding with a large stick), he drops the object and runs. The window of the shed in Grandma's back yard is broken out, there are old tools strung everywhere (mind you, we have to pick this up before we mow...every time), and now this. We had some rock from my uncle sitting at the end of the driveway. There were large rocks, shells, marbles, and several chunks of desert glass (this has all since been moved to the front landscaping under our front windows). Being as it were, I couldn't have told you if there were pieces missing.

But there were.
And I found one.
Piece of desert glass.
Under the edge of the lilac bush.
With the mower.

CLANG! *dead* I'm pretty sure the non-abbreviation for WTF! came spewing out of my mouth. I pushed the mower to the driveway while Realist checked under the bush and came up with the piece of desert glass, now in three. I was hot. Grumbling about 'stupid children and watch your damn kids' all the way to the front porch, I grabbed the putty knife and figured I'd clean out the mulched grass while I surveyed the damage. Nice big ding in the blade (it needed sharpened anyway, but we're going to have to buy a new one) and when I took the blade adapter off, there's a big chunk missing out of it as well. "Mother Effer" definitely came out of my mouth then. Can't run the mower without the adapter or a blade that wouldn't cut butter. I went to TSC yesterday on my lunch hour - they'll need the serial number from the mower. Got that this morning. They ordered the part for me - $30 EFFING DOLLARS FOR A SMALL PIECE OF METAL?! Are you out of your bloomin' minds? Then I get told that it'll be 7-10 days to me...after they get the part in to the manufacturer (funny, I'm in manufacturing, so I know what they mean...it's still off-putting). So I'm reduced to cutting the whole yard with the rider (the front yard's just a bit small to be using it) or the weedeater...or a scissors (damn...should make D do it for stealing my rocks and then leaving it in the yard) for two weeks while my part comes in.

I told you those stories to tell you this one and to explain the title (I know...makes me sound like Ron 'Tater Salad' White). Realist took the part into Virden today to see if their repair shop had it. The three gentlemen that helped him out were apparently floored that Realist didn't take the blade off and discover the break, but Realist's WIFE! One guy even said that he can't get his wife to change a light bulb. Realist proceeded to tell them that I know how to do light electrical and plumbing and fixing little things (like the screen door), and they were impressed. Oh dear. I've been told both of these following comments several times, and I would bet that this thought ran through at least one of those gentlemen's heads: "Wish my wife would do/let me do that" or "Does she have a twin sister?"

Apparently girls aren't supposed to know things. My first truck? 1987 Dodge Dakota 3.9 liter V-6 (impressed the oil change guys with that one). When you're adding an outlet, what color wires do you use? Green is ground, black is hot, and white is neutral. What do you do first when you need to fix anything on your toilet? Turn off the water and flush! Give me some solder and some flux and a torch and some copper pipe and 90 degree els (elbows)? I can make you a picture frame! :) And why is it soooo wrong to take your husband to his first strip club??

I'll probably post again this evening, but I had to get this one out because I was so damn amused.
Have fun, and be safe out there,
Mrs. Dreamer

Monday, June 1, 2009

I'm a HUGE dork...

You know, I love Harry Potter. I'm not going to get into the depths of the stories because, for the most part, I'm content to let a story be just that - a story. I'm not sure why people want to analyze and pick apart 'why they think the author wrote what s/he did'...although that kind of makes me a bit hypocritical doesn't it? Seeing as how I have a degree in British/American Literature? Anyway, there's this fanfiction site of Harry Potter that I am an avid reader of that has these challenges every month or so. This month's challenge has sparked my interest enough that I'm writing one (sorry Megan, I'm tot' neglecting Lalo and Kati!). Let's just put it this way...there's a couple of Valley Girl cheerleaders in this one!
I cannot wait for HBP to come out! I want to see how they play Hermione's reactions to Lavender and Ron snogging at every possible moment. I want to see Ginny finally kiss Harry. I want Quidditch!! I want Potions and Transfiguration and Charms and Merlin help me, there are days I want a frigging wand (only so I can hex my boss's bits off, I promise...well, maybe make me a little bit taller *grin*)! Please tell me I'm not completely insane (wait, you can't - I don't like to be lied to). Sigh.
I started going through a drawer at a time tonight. I've got a half a bag of garbage now. I'm determined to have my stuff gone through and cleaned up by the end of the summer. Anyone got any good ideas for helping a confirmed pack rat renounce her genetics?
I'm also awaiting the arrival of New Moon. I'm torn between wanting to be Team Edward and Team Jacob. Edward, while a vampire, is good for Bella - he's grounded (much like Mr. Realist) and older. Jacob, in spite of being a werewolf, is also good for her - he's a teenager and more apt to have fun. There are times when Bella's just too serious for her own good. I guess I could go Team Alice - she sees both sides of it; while she's on Edward's side because he is her 'brother', I think she's a bit on Jacob's side because he can get her into less trouble (if you don't count the cliff diving bit).
Working my way through a Jim Butcher novel called Small Favor. It's pretty good so far. I'm also skimming my way through Your First Novel (Josh let me borrow this one). Kind of like a Bible. Picked up Eats, Shoots and Leaves last weekend at a used bookstore. If you think that your grammar could use a little brushing up on, you need to check it out. It's funny as hell in some parts, and I even learned a few things - who'dathunkit?
Sorry this one's a bit short - I didn't think about it until late. I did say that I would try to post every day, didn't I? And if you're reading this and think someone else would be amused by my ramblings, feel free to pass it along. BTW - I've got my first follower! Woot woot! (scratch that: first and SECOND followers!)
Only four more days to Camp O! HEEPWAH!
Have fun, and be safe out there
Be safe out there.