Screaming out frustrations

I friend of mine Lorrie was having a bad day and posted how she just wanted to scream! Well, I asked her if I could scream with her, because my day wasn’t so good either. She responded by asking if she could come over and we could scream together at the animals to see what they would do! Well, you know me…my over active imagination takes over and I can just picture what it would like if we stood outside and screamed out our frustrations!

This could happen…really!

It is a beautiful Fall day. Gold and orange leaves are gently swirling to the ground already blanketed with their comrades. A few song birds on their journey south to a warmer climate, are chirping away, resting on the branches of our huge oak tree that has lost its green color replacing it with yellows, reds and browns. The llamas are grazing nearby, lost in their thoughts of winter coming and how to claim the only warm spot in the barn without ‘that pig’ touching them. Dunkay is laying in the sun napping, his legs twitching as if he’s chasing a llama or two away from the barns warmest corner that he plans to guard with limb and hoof all winter!

Laci is in her usual coma from eating, Remi is vacuuming up all scratch grain that she chased the chickens away from, and BOB? Well, he’s “gobbling” at every noise that remotely sounds like the word BOB!

Lorrie and I stand at the gate to let out all frustrations from the past 60 years or so. We face each other, hold perfectly still, clasp hands, take a deep breath, and yell like there’s no tomorrow!!

The llamas will jump up and start running in circles, bumping into each other as spit flies! Lincoln, our alpaca, will stand like a statue, ears flat and join in with his warning cry in case we are yelling at a coyote sneaking around! Dunkay will hop up and gallop towards us in case he’s missing something exciting like a tasry dandelion just popped up! Remi will come waddling over because she’s convinced that we are calling her over to suprise her with breakfast, lunch, dinner and five midnight snacks given to her all at once. Bob will gobble because he thought he heard his name again, and Laci wont move because she’s still in a 24/7 coma from eating.

Lorrie Lotter-Audette and I will just keep yelling and yelling and yelling until the cows come home! (well, if we had cows) In our case, until the llamas hide in the barn, Dunkay HEE HAWS with us, Remi angrily grunts at us because no food has dropped in front of her dirty little piggy snout, BOB will keep on gobbling, Laci has one eye focused on us out of her coma, and the new neighbors will look at each other, shrug their shoulders remembering that the nice folks across the street warned them about strange and unusual sights and sounds coming from the funny farm that borders on twilight zone instead of normal so don’t be alarmed!

Morning wake up call

Well, I unwillingly got up early this morning because of something making a loud annoying noise outside our bedroom window! Your all thinking, ‘that darn C.S. (rooster known as Chicken Soup, thus C.S.) is at it again!’ Nope…C.S. has been taking a break lately…I hope he isn’t sick! Anyhoo…at the crack of dawn I woke up to this horrible, loud crackle like sound. My mind wakes up slower than my body and automatically goes into ‘figure out the noise mode in case its dangerous’!

The first place the ‘refusing to be alert before the birds’ mind goes to because it already lives there…is the twilight zone, complete with music as Rod Sterlings voice whispers into my ear, “you have now entered into the twilight zone”…that usually wakes me up quick!

I now have one eye open. I listen…there it is again…the noise in the wall? Under the bed? Hiding in the closet? Hanging off the ceiling fan? Under the pillow, the covers? It’s hard to make out between Chad’s night sounds! So I cover my hubby’s mouth long enough for him to pop his eyes open because he can’t breathe! He glares at me with a ‘what are you nuts…trying to smother me again’ look? (I get those looks everyday after I ask him a simple little question like, “should we bring the ducks in out of the rain? They’re getting wet!”). I hush him before he can speak, get close to his ear and whisper…”Do you hear that horrible sound? Do you think we’re being bombed? Could it be the barn falling down? You think Dunkay is chasing another neighbor down the road? Is it Remi’s tummy grumbling from hunger? Is it the end of the world?” I am now shaking the poor man to get up, get dressed, grab a baseball bat, get the pitbull riled up, make chippie growl…just do something and protect the farm!!

He is now wide awake and NOT happy! He pulls back the curtain and looks. What terror could it be?! Then, in disbelief states, ‘Um, it’s only YOUR stupid duck quacking.’
Chad looks at me with his famous ‘you really have lost it’ look as I say in my best, sweetest, coy little voice…”but honey it could’ve been something really horrible and I just wanted my big strong, brave, handsome man to protect me!” He didn’t buy it and the duck quacked away until C.S. joined in for a morning duet serenade!

Waiting for hay man!

Another wagon load of green, fresh, yummy hay is coming today! And the ding bats are lined up at the gate already! They’re whispering back and forth to each other…just like fans lined up behind the gold rope next to the red carpet, excitedly waiting for their favorite movie star to pull up and waltz past them!

Three llamas, one alpaca, a naughty donkey, a comatose mini-horse, and an overweight ‘doesn’t-need-any’ more-food-ever potbelly pig will all stand there and wait for Charles the hay man to drive up the driveway, get out and walk past them to the barn to see which gate he should go in with the truck load of gold! They’ll swoon and, as always, one will surely faint from the sight of they’re favorite non family human who brings them the best hay with a touch of alfalfa for them and only them.

Perhaps Charles will give out autographs to his adoring fans!!

Cupcake race!

Ah baby showers. A place where the old and young gather to touch a protruding tummy, and Ooooooo over the lucky mama to be. It’s also a place where everyone eyes that last cupcake on the counter.

Well, I wanted that last cupcake, I wanted it real bad. I just didn’t want to jump up and grab the sugar mound of frosting, so I talked my niece Tami Gilpin into getting the treat that was calling my name! She kinda grumbled about it, but I promised to let her feed Remi and chase Dunkay. Well that perked her up and she got up to get dear old auntie a cupcake!

I noticed as she was weaving through the tiny aisles of seats crammed with ladies excitedly telling each other stories about “how they labored for 6 weeks just to give birth to an 18 pound baby boy that was teething already” when I noticed a cute little grandma with a pink flowered cane, making her way to the one and only, final, soon-to-be-gone cupcake with MY name on it! I pssssst’d as loud as I could to get Tami’s attention without having every horror story of the worst birth ever known to man to stop being told and all eyes turn towards me. She stopped and looked at me with a ‘huh?’ expression. I pointed to the little old lady who had picked up speed heading straight towards MY cupcake!

My loyal niece nodded and started a little jog towards the counter. The cute little granny, wise in her years of cupcake grabbing experience, picked up the speed. Woo hoo! A race! I elbowed everyone beside me and asked if anyone wanted to take bets on who was going to get that cupcake?! We all piled our money on the table with a slip of paper inked with odds!

It was exciting as we sat on the edge of our seats watching the young whippersnapper and the elderly lady with the pink flowered cane careen toward cupcake paradise. I couldn’t help myself so I started to announce the race…”Here they come ladies and ladies, Tami the Wind and Miss Galloping Granny. Tami is coming up fast, turning past the table of gossip…Granny is going straight up the aisle swinging her cane back and forth, warning folks not to push their chair in front of her, ignoring the story’s of birth horror. Oh no…a child is standing in front of Tami the Wind and refuses to move! Jump, Tami, Jump…get MY cupcake!!!

Ahhhhhh, my girl jagged left past the now screaming toddler and is ahead of Galloping Granny!

Well…you get the story.

My niece got the cupcake! And, the elderly lady? Turns out they had another full tray behind the counter that they brought out and she got two. Turns out Granny truly did know best on how to run the Cupcake race at Baby Shower Racetrack!

Baby shower race!

Ah baby showers. A place where the old and young gather to touch a protruding tummy, and Ooooooo over the lucky mama to be. It’s also a place where everyone eyes that last cupcake on the counter.

Well, I wanted that last cupcake, I wanted it real bad. I just didn’t want to jump up and grab the sugar mound of frosting, so I talked my niece Tami Gilpin into getting the treat that was calling my name! She kinda grumbled about it, but I promised to let her feed Remi and chase Dunkay. Well that perked her up and she got up to get dear old auntie a cupcake!

I noticed as she was weaving through the tiny aisles of seats crammed with ladies excitedly telling each other stories about “how they labored for 6 weeks just to give birth to an 18 pound baby boy that was teething already” when I noticed a cute little grandma with a pink flowered cane, making her way to the one and only, final, soon-to-be-gone cupcake with MY name on it! I pssssst’d as loud as I could to get Tami’s attention without having every horror story of the worst birth ever known to man to stop being told and all eyes turn towards me. She stopped and looked at me with a ‘huh?’ expression. I pointed to the little old lady who had picked up speed heading straight towards MY cupcake!

My loyal niece nodded and started a little jog towards the counter. The cute little granny, wise in her years of cupcake grabbing experience, picked up the speed. Woo hoo! A race! I elbowed everyone beside me and asked if anyone wanted to take bets on who was going to get that cupcake?! We all piled our money on the table with a slip of paper inked with odds!

It was exciting as we sat on the edge of our seats watching the young whippersnapper and the elderly lady with the pink flowered cane careen toward cupcake paradise. I couldn’t help myself so I started to announce the race…”Here they come ladies and ladies, Tami the Wind and Miss Galloping Granny. Tami is coming up fast, turning past the table of gossip…Granny is going straight up the aisle swinging her cane back and forth, warning folks not to push their chair in front of her, ignoring the story’s of birth horror. Oh no…a child is standing in front of Tami the Wind and refuses to move! Jump, Tami, Jump…get MY cupcake!!!

Ahhhhhh, my girl jagged left past the now screaming toddler and is ahead of Galloping Granny!

Well…you get the story.

My niece got the cupcake! And, the elderly lady? Turns out they had another full tray behind the counter that they brought out and she got two. Turns out Granny truly did know best on how to run the Cupcake race at Baby Shower Racetrack!

I’m interesting!

I was feeling kinda blue last night and sometimes a woman just needs to hear how beautiful, wonderful, great, needed, wanted they are from their hubby or boyfriend. So I asked Chad in one breath within 2.3 seconds…”Do you love me? Do you think I’m fat? Do I look old? Do you think I’m frumpy? Am I boring? Do I look pudgy in my clothes? Do I act old? Well?!”

He lovingly looked at me, and answered in a sweet voice, “You’re one of the most interesting women I’ve ever known.”

Interesting? What happened to beautiful? Sexy? Young and vibrant?

I replied, in a monotone voice, “Really…interesting?”

He said, “Well yeah, have you read the stuff you write?” Of course I’ve read it…I wrote it!

Apparently he thinks I’m ‘interesting’ because of my goofy stories. Oh well, at my age…I’ll take it!!!

(Full disclosure, he also says the other obligatory husband ‘beautiful’, ‘attractive’, etc remarks…to which I reply, ‘yeah, right’, ‘uh-huh’ and other whats-up-your-sleave responses.)

Fun with mother and the freezer

Fun with mother…

I took mother to Krogers today. I should know by now that the promise of ‘I just need a couple of things so it should only take a few minutes’ is never, never, never, never ever true!
Her few items that should only be a minute or three, turned out to be a basket filled to the top, taking at least an hour! An hour you say? Yes…an hour…give or take a day or two! And why does it take mother an hour to pick up a few (cough cough) items? Because she stands at the freezer with the door open and looks, searching for that boxed dinner that was taken off the market 10 years ago! She moves every box around to find what she wants or didn’t want! She stands there soooooooo long that the door fogs up (see pic) and 80% of the frozen foods are now ready to eat because they have now reached room temperature.
When mother does find that perfect instant meal in a box, it is…where? That’s right, on the very top shelf as far as it can be! And who has to practically get inside the now defrosted freezer, standing on the bottom shelf, stretching as far as she can go without tearing ligaments or becoming a permanent fixture inside the dang thing? Yep, you guessed it…ME!
And what can be worse than that? Getting the wrong box and having to do it again as mother stands behind me with encouraging words such as…”what’s taking you so long…do you see the one I want…no that’s not it…keep looking…I’m tired of standing here watching you…which one did I want again…I changed my mind, grab the tuna noodle dinner on the bottom shelf instead…why did you come out of the freezer without my dinner?”

Yep, I call my adventures with my mommy…M.M. short for Mother Marathon!