No. Nobody asked the teens to strip down and run around nekkid.
Nor did anyone force them the jump out of moving vehicles.
They weren't even asked to cut their hair.
They were asked to go out with shovels and ice scrapers and finish the job that the 46-year-old started yesterday. By himself. In 10 degree weather. For 2 1/2 hours.
Did I mention, BY HIMSELF????
He finished most of the job of hacking the built-up ice from the approach to the mailbox. They aforementioned teen-wimps only have a small portion to do.
After 3 months of ice, snow, snow, more snow, snow plows, mailmen and various meteorological occurances, the mailbox approach and the mailbox itself, were pretty much invisible.
It had become bad enough that the mailman, usually a jolly soul, was leaving us nasty notes. Handwritten nasty notes. We decided that the mess had to go, mostly because of the threat of no mail delivery. That, and the definite possibility that he would Go Postal and drive his car into the house. Or something.
Well, as it turns out, a job that was unpleasant, but necessary, for an Adult Male would be too much for 3 healthy teenage males.
Poor babies. Their morning schedule of playing Magic cards and schnoozling with the girlfriend has been oh-so-rudely interrupted.
Life just isn't fair.
Poor babies.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
He sez, sezzee?
Ok, now, really.
When did the children get elected to rule the world?
Is this a natural offshoot of those awful "idiot adult" movies of the '80s? Or is it something more sinister?
I'm really, really, old so I remember the days when I didn't think of calling any one of my friend's parents by their first name.
I didn't know my mother had a first name until I was around 15.
Nobody would have dreamt of inviting friends to the house after school and THEN! expecting the parents to drive them home when they wanted to go.
What IS going on here?
Since when did adolescents rule the world? (this isn't a political post so I won't comment further on that...)
Since when did they absolutely HAVE to possess cell phones?
Since when did they take every bite of food for granted?
Since when did they think that the roof over their heads was their god-given right?
Since when was the request to clean up the biohazard that they call their bedrooms a threat?
Who the bloody hell thinks this is a good thing?
I don't.
OK, right, I know, I'm old and decrepit but I just simply refuse to be treated by those kids as their "equal." When they get to be my age, have done what I have done and paid the price for sacrificing, yeah, sure.
As it stands at this moment, they will never be my equal.
Not in experience.
Not in sacrifice.
Not in honor and duty, intelligence or brains.
Not ever.
When SS's little 15-year-old girlfriend walks into the house and is greeted, then ignores same greeting?
Maybe she needs a spanking. Or, maybe, she just doesn't need to be here.
Ever.
Same thing applies to YMS and his friends.
It really pisses me off.
I suppose I should talk with Himself about this. Maybe he has a solution to it. I don't, except to say that it really pisses me off.
When did the children get elected to rule the world?
Is this a natural offshoot of those awful "idiot adult" movies of the '80s? Or is it something more sinister?
I'm really, really, old so I remember the days when I didn't think of calling any one of my friend's parents by their first name.
I didn't know my mother had a first name until I was around 15.
Nobody would have dreamt of inviting friends to the house after school and THEN! expecting the parents to drive them home when they wanted to go.
What IS going on here?
Since when did adolescents rule the world? (this isn't a political post so I won't comment further on that...)
Since when did they absolutely HAVE to possess cell phones?
Since when did they take every bite of food for granted?
Since when did they think that the roof over their heads was their god-given right?
Since when was the request to clean up the biohazard that they call their bedrooms a threat?
Who the bloody hell thinks this is a good thing?
I don't.
OK, right, I know, I'm old and decrepit but I just simply refuse to be treated by those kids as their "equal." When they get to be my age, have done what I have done and paid the price for sacrificing, yeah, sure.
As it stands at this moment, they will never be my equal.
Not in experience.
Not in sacrifice.
Not in honor and duty, intelligence or brains.
Not ever.
When SS's little 15-year-old girlfriend walks into the house and is greeted, then ignores same greeting?
Maybe she needs a spanking. Or, maybe, she just doesn't need to be here.
Ever.
Same thing applies to YMS and his friends.
It really pisses me off.
I suppose I should talk with Himself about this. Maybe he has a solution to it. I don't, except to say that it really pisses me off.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Roadkill
Our mailbox is the latest victim of the snowplow driver. The poor thing was backed over last summer by the contractor. That's OK, he also took out the neighbor's marten house. Equal opportunity brain fart.
I do feel rather badly about this. We put up a brand-new, shiny mailbox last summer because the old one had mysterious dents, scratches and rust. All that wasn't really much of a issue but we have had quite a lot of work done on this house and the mailbox looked rather incongruous, ratty as it was.
I know where the dents and scratches came from. Yes, I do. It's that damned snowplow driver and his Beast from Gargantua. When we get more than a couple of inches of snow he comes roaring by anytime between 5 a.m. and whenever. Normally he isn't so close to the curb that he would actually hit the mailbox but this morning he must have been pissed because we had the cars in the street so we could shovel the driveway. He had to come back around for a second pass which obviously, at least to me it's obvious, annoyed him to the point that he cut right in to the curb, fountaining a 3 month accumulation of snow, ice and rocks up into the yard.
And took out the mailbox. It's barely hanging off the post, sort of laid on its side, red flag moving idly in the breeze. I suppose I should go out and bungee cord it back up on the post or the mailman may take offense.
I do feel rather badly about this. We put up a brand-new, shiny mailbox last summer because the old one had mysterious dents, scratches and rust. All that wasn't really much of a issue but we have had quite a lot of work done on this house and the mailbox looked rather incongruous, ratty as it was.
I know where the dents and scratches came from. Yes, I do. It's that damned snowplow driver and his Beast from Gargantua. When we get more than a couple of inches of snow he comes roaring by anytime between 5 a.m. and whenever. Normally he isn't so close to the curb that he would actually hit the mailbox but this morning he must have been pissed because we had the cars in the street so we could shovel the driveway. He had to come back around for a second pass which obviously, at least to me it's obvious, annoyed him to the point that he cut right in to the curb, fountaining a 3 month accumulation of snow, ice and rocks up into the yard.
And took out the mailbox. It's barely hanging off the post, sort of laid on its side, red flag moving idly in the breeze. I suppose I should go out and bungee cord it back up on the post or the mailman may take offense.
Noo Doo
I got a haircut a couple of days ago. It's always quite short but, what with dead cars, temperatures near absolute zero, the 'flu, you know all that extraneous stuff, it was about 3 inches long by the time I managed to call for help.
Brenda, who is a doll and has been hacking at my locks since she first had her license, does a great job, even though she regularly accuses me of not being able to sit still. She washes the mop, performs the obligatory eyebrow wax and then we proceed to snipping, clipping and razoring.
Brenda is very family-oriented and has pictures of her parents, in multiples, on shelves around her work station. I mentioned that I really liked that particular cut her Mom had, the one in that picture up there. "Her hair is longer than yours, but we'll see." OK, cool. That is one really snazzy cut your Maman has and I want one like it. All sort of spiky and very cool.
We proceed. After considerable snipping, the razor was put to work. That means we're almost done so I can quit wiggling and go to the bathroom. The necessary blowdrying, spraying, gelling and all finished, I replace my glasses.
Good God Almighty, what is that on my head!? I glanced up at the photographs and, sure enough, instead of the Very Cool Spiky Do, I had the Very Uncool Smooth Helmet Do.
Evidently, there was a major communication problem.
Oh, well, that's fine. It'll grow out. Eventually. Meanwhile, I scare myself every time I walk past a mirror. It's not that I hate this style, mind you, just looks way too much like something Maribelle Morgan would wear on a shopping trip for more Saran Wrap. I'm more like the Bride of Frankenstein on amphetamines.
I duly arrived home after a fairly long drive. It was necessary to ignore the urge to pull my head down into the collar of my coat like a turtle so, on the off chance I might see someone I know, they wouldn't notice my lovely smooth hair.
Himself, who normally pays no attention to anything of the sort and wouldn't notice if I grew a moustache and shaved my head, says, "I like that. It's not all spiky and all."
Good thing he was sick with the flu or I'd have had to kill him.
Brenda, who is a doll and has been hacking at my locks since she first had her license, does a great job, even though she regularly accuses me of not being able to sit still. She washes the mop, performs the obligatory eyebrow wax and then we proceed to snipping, clipping and razoring.
Brenda is very family-oriented and has pictures of her parents, in multiples, on shelves around her work station. I mentioned that I really liked that particular cut her Mom had, the one in that picture up there. "Her hair is longer than yours, but we'll see." OK, cool. That is one really snazzy cut your Maman has and I want one like it. All sort of spiky and very cool.
We proceed. After considerable snipping, the razor was put to work. That means we're almost done so I can quit wiggling and go to the bathroom. The necessary blowdrying, spraying, gelling and all finished, I replace my glasses.
Good God Almighty, what is that on my head!? I glanced up at the photographs and, sure enough, instead of the Very Cool Spiky Do, I had the Very Uncool Smooth Helmet Do.
Evidently, there was a major communication problem.
Oh, well, that's fine. It'll grow out. Eventually. Meanwhile, I scare myself every time I walk past a mirror. It's not that I hate this style, mind you, just looks way too much like something Maribelle Morgan would wear on a shopping trip for more Saran Wrap. I'm more like the Bride of Frankenstein on amphetamines.
I duly arrived home after a fairly long drive. It was necessary to ignore the urge to pull my head down into the collar of my coat like a turtle so, on the off chance I might see someone I know, they wouldn't notice my lovely smooth hair.
Himself, who normally pays no attention to anything of the sort and wouldn't notice if I grew a moustache and shaved my head, says, "I like that. It's not all spiky and all."
Good thing he was sick with the flu or I'd have had to kill him.
Things NOT to say to a Military Spouse, Girlfriend or family member.
We are a military family, with 2 veterans (one deploying in April, again.) Foster son in Kosovo...
DD sent this to me.
1. "Aren't you afraid that he'll be killed?"
(This one ranks in at number one on the "duh" list. Of course we're afraid. We're terrified. The thought always lingers at the backs of our minds ---but thanks brilliant, you just brought it back to the front. Maybe next you can go ask someone with cancer if they're scared of dying.)
2. "I don't know how you manage. I don't think I could do it."
(This is intended to be a compliment. Though, its just a little annoying. Here's why: it's not like all of us military wives have been dreaming since childhood of the day we'd get to be anxious single moms who carry cell phones with us to the bathroom and in the shower. We're not made of some mysterious matter that makes us more capable, we just got asked to take on a challenging job. So we rose to the challenge and found the strength to make sacrifices.)
3. "At least he's not in Iraq ."
(This is the number one most annoying comment for those whose husbands are in Afghanistan. What do they think is happening in Afghanistan? An international game of golf? Guys are fighting and dying over there.)
4. "Do you think he'll get to come home for Christmas/anniversary/birthday/birth of a child/wedding/family reunion, etc?"
(Don't you watch the news? No! They don't get to come home for any of these things. Please don't ask again.)
5. "What are you going to do to keep yourself busy while he's gone?"
(Short answer: Try to keep my sanity. Maybe there's a military wife out there who gets bored when her husband leaves, but I have yet to meet her. For the rest of us, those with and without children, we find ourselves having to be two people. That keeps us plenty busy. We do get lonely, but we don't get bored.)
6. "How much longer does he have until he can get out?"
(This one is annoying to many of us whether our husbands are deployed or not. Many of our husbands aren't counting down the days until they "can" get out. Many of them keep signing back up again and again because they actually love what they do or they VOLUNTEER AGAIN and AGAIN to go back to Iraq b/c there is work that needs to be done.)
7. "This deployment shouldn't be so bad, now that you're used to it."
(Sure, we do learn coping skills and its true the more deployments you've gone through, the easier dealing with it becomes. And we figure out ways to make life go smoother while the guys are gone. But it never gets "easy" and the bullets and bombs don't skip over our guys just because they've been there before. The worry never goes away.)
8. "My husband had to go to Europe for business once for three weeks. I totally know what you're going through."
(This one is similar to number two. Do not equate your husband's three week trip to London/Omaha/Tokyo/etc. with a 12-15 month or more deployment to a war zone. Aside from the obvious time difference, nobody shot at your husband or tried to blow him up with an I.E.D., your husband could call home pretty much any time he wanted to, he flew comfortably on a commercial plane, slept between crisp white sheets and ate well, paying for everything with an expense account. There is no comparison. We do not feel bonded to you in the slightest because of this comment and, if anything, we probably resent you a bit for it. Comparing a 12 month combat deployment to a few weeks business trip is like comparing a ford taurus with mercedes convertible.)
9. "Wow you must miss him?"
(This one also gets another big "duh". Of course we miss our men. There are some wives who do not and they're now divorced.)
10. "Where is he exactly? Where is that?"
(I don't expect non-military folks to be able to find Anbar Province on a map, but they should know by now that it's in Iraq. Likewise, know that Kabul and Kandahar are in Afghanistan. Know that Muqtada al Sadr is the insurgent leader of the Mahdi Army in Iraq and that Sadr City is his home area. Know that Iran is a major threat to our country and that it is located between Afghanistan and Iraq. Our country has been at war in Afghanistan for seven years and at war in Iraq for five years. These basic facts are not secrets, they're on the news every night and in the papers every day ---and on maps everywhere.)
11. "Well, he signed up for it, so it's his own fault whatever happens over there.
(Yes, ignorant, he did sign up. Each and every day he protects your right to make stupid comments like that. He didn't sign up and ask to be hit by anything, he signed up to protect his country. Oh, and by the way, he asked me to tell you that "You're welcome." He's still fighting for your freedom.)
12. "Don't you miss sex! I couldn't do it!"
(hmmm, no i don't miss sex. i'm a robot. Seriously...military spouses learn quickly that our relationships must be founded on something greater than sex. We learn to appreciate the important things, like simply hearing their voices, seeing their faces, being able to have dinner together every night. And the hard truth is, most relationships probably couldn't withstand 12 months of sex deprivation.)
13. "Well in my opinion....."
(Stop right there. Yo, I didn't ask for you your personal political opinions. Hey, I love a heated political debate, but not in the grocery store, not in Jamba Juice, not at Nordstrom, not in a bar when I'm out with my girls trying to forget the war, and CERTAINLY NOT AT WORK. We tell co-workers about deployments so when we have to spend lunch hours running off doing errands and taking care of the house, dog, and kids, they have an understanding. We do not tell co-workers and colleagues because we are giving an invitation to ramble about politics or because we so eagerly want to hear how much they hate the President, esp. while we're trying to heat up our lean cuisines in the crappy office microwaves.)
last but not least....
14. "OH, that's horrible...I'm so sorry!"
(He's doing his job and he's a badass. Don't be sorry. Be appreciative and please take a moment out of your comfortable American lives to realize that our soldiers fight the wars abroad so those wars stay abroad.)
DD sent this to me.
1. "Aren't you afraid that he'll be killed?"
(This one ranks in at number one on the "duh" list. Of course we're afraid. We're terrified. The thought always lingers at the backs of our minds ---but thanks brilliant, you just brought it back to the front. Maybe next you can go ask someone with cancer if they're scared of dying.)
2. "I don't know how you manage. I don't think I could do it."
(This is intended to be a compliment. Though, its just a little annoying. Here's why: it's not like all of us military wives have been dreaming since childhood of the day we'd get to be anxious single moms who carry cell phones with us to the bathroom and in the shower. We're not made of some mysterious matter that makes us more capable, we just got asked to take on a challenging job. So we rose to the challenge and found the strength to make sacrifices.)
3. "At least he's not in Iraq ."
(This is the number one most annoying comment for those whose husbands are in Afghanistan. What do they think is happening in Afghanistan? An international game of golf? Guys are fighting and dying over there.)
4. "Do you think he'll get to come home for Christmas/anniversary/birthday/birth of a child/wedding/family reunion, etc?"
(Don't you watch the news? No! They don't get to come home for any of these things. Please don't ask again.)
5. "What are you going to do to keep yourself busy while he's gone?"
(Short answer: Try to keep my sanity. Maybe there's a military wife out there who gets bored when her husband leaves, but I have yet to meet her. For the rest of us, those with and without children, we find ourselves having to be two people. That keeps us plenty busy. We do get lonely, but we don't get bored.)
6. "How much longer does he have until he can get out?"
(This one is annoying to many of us whether our husbands are deployed or not. Many of our husbands aren't counting down the days until they "can" get out. Many of them keep signing back up again and again because they actually love what they do or they VOLUNTEER AGAIN and AGAIN to go back to Iraq b/c there is work that needs to be done.)
7. "This deployment shouldn't be so bad, now that you're used to it."
(Sure, we do learn coping skills and its true the more deployments you've gone through, the easier dealing with it becomes. And we figure out ways to make life go smoother while the guys are gone. But it never gets "easy" and the bullets and bombs don't skip over our guys just because they've been there before. The worry never goes away.)
8. "My husband had to go to Europe for business once for three weeks. I totally know what you're going through."
(This one is similar to number two. Do not equate your husband's three week trip to London/Omaha/Tokyo/etc. with a 12-15 month or more deployment to a war zone. Aside from the obvious time difference, nobody shot at your husband or tried to blow him up with an I.E.D., your husband could call home pretty much any time he wanted to, he flew comfortably on a commercial plane, slept between crisp white sheets and ate well, paying for everything with an expense account. There is no comparison. We do not feel bonded to you in the slightest because of this comment and, if anything, we probably resent you a bit for it. Comparing a 12 month combat deployment to a few weeks business trip is like comparing a ford taurus with mercedes convertible.)
9. "Wow you must miss him?"
(This one also gets another big "duh". Of course we miss our men. There are some wives who do not and they're now divorced.)
10. "Where is he exactly? Where is that?"
(I don't expect non-military folks to be able to find Anbar Province on a map, but they should know by now that it's in Iraq. Likewise, know that Kabul and Kandahar are in Afghanistan. Know that Muqtada al Sadr is the insurgent leader of the Mahdi Army in Iraq and that Sadr City is his home area. Know that Iran is a major threat to our country and that it is located between Afghanistan and Iraq. Our country has been at war in Afghanistan for seven years and at war in Iraq for five years. These basic facts are not secrets, they're on the news every night and in the papers every day ---and on maps everywhere.)
11. "Well, he signed up for it, so it's his own fault whatever happens over there.
(Yes, ignorant, he did sign up. Each and every day he protects your right to make stupid comments like that. He didn't sign up and ask to be hit by anything, he signed up to protect his country. Oh, and by the way, he asked me to tell you that "You're welcome." He's still fighting for your freedom.)
12. "Don't you miss sex! I couldn't do it!"
(hmmm, no i don't miss sex. i'm a robot. Seriously...military spouses learn quickly that our relationships must be founded on something greater than sex. We learn to appreciate the important things, like simply hearing their voices, seeing their faces, being able to have dinner together every night. And the hard truth is, most relationships probably couldn't withstand 12 months of sex deprivation.)
13. "Well in my opinion....."
(Stop right there. Yo, I didn't ask for you your personal political opinions. Hey, I love a heated political debate, but not in the grocery store, not in Jamba Juice, not at Nordstrom, not in a bar when I'm out with my girls trying to forget the war, and CERTAINLY NOT AT WORK. We tell co-workers about deployments so when we have to spend lunch hours running off doing errands and taking care of the house, dog, and kids, they have an understanding. We do not tell co-workers and colleagues because we are giving an invitation to ramble about politics or because we so eagerly want to hear how much they hate the President, esp. while we're trying to heat up our lean cuisines in the crappy office microwaves.)
last but not least....
14. "OH, that's horrible...I'm so sorry!"
(He's doing his job and he's a badass. Don't be sorry. Be appreciative and please take a moment out of your comfortable American lives to realize that our soldiers fight the wars abroad so those wars stay abroad.)
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