October 27, 2011
A couple of days ago I had the best day I have had in so long I can’t really remember. It was awesome!
No, I didn’t win the lottery or Publisher’s Clearing House. I didn’t get a free trip to the Bahamas. I didn’t get anything….except to feel fantastic, incredible, happy, healthy, normal. For me normal is the highest height I can aspire to. It’s the highest feeling I’ve had since I got FUBAR’d. (Thank you Arnold Chiari Malformation and MS….you suck a big green weenie)
It started when I woke up at 4:30 am. Very unusual for me lately. Normally I would hit the snooze about seven times and sleep until almost 5:30 am. But I felt really awake and so I rolled with it. I got up and fixed homemade biscuits and sausage for everyone for breakfast. After I got everyone off to school and work, I sat down to read for a few minutes. When I looked up again I decided that feeling normal ROCKS and so I would use that time to do something constructive. I proceeded to clean up my paper avalanche around the computer.
When I die it is going to be from being suffocated by a large pile of paper that I couldn’t think well enough to decide what to do with.
So I put the FAT principle into motion and divided everything into three piles: File, Act, Toss. That eliminated about 90% of the paper. Then I filed the F pile and that left me with the Act pile. So far so good. Then I tossed 3 years worth of old files and dug down to the current page of my desk calendar. That right there is more than I’ve done in months and months.
After I was done, I could actually get to my computer without climbing any paper mountains and without a native guide. I was happy. I then went grocery shopping with Rocky and Pony. When we got back I put away groceries, loaded the dishwasher, did some laundry, and fixed dinner.
Sounds like a small fraction of anyone’s normal day, doesn’t it? Yeah, I know. But for me it was like a life orgasm. I got to spend a day being sorta like I used to be. You know, like a real person. Like a human being that can get up in the morning and look around and say…..I need to do this and this and this…..and not mean ONLY this and this and this but mean in addition to my normal stuff.
What I can usually do is get up in the morning and look around and say to myself….how in the name of God will I ever be able to catch up with all this stuff? Then I get really optimistic and say to myself….just pick a couple of things to do and don’t worry about the rest. Then I look around and there is just SO MUCH that I haven’t done that I can’t decide what needs doing most. Which makes me feel like a total slug and worthless in the extreme. Then I get to feeling bad about myself and it ends up where I spend most of every day trying to keep from cutting my own throat for being such a worthless excuse for a human being.
Because I can’t lift my hands over my head because it messes up my neck and I get headaches and vertigo, and I can’t bend down because it makes me dizzy, and I can’t stand up straight for long because it makes my knees go numb, and I can’t and I can’t and I can’t and I can’t……..! My entire life is the things I can’t. Sometimes I just go ahead and do it anyway. Then I spend days where I can’t think good, I can’t walk good, I can’t talk good, my head hurts, my neck hurts and that damn screaming tinnitus will not leave me alone. I don’t understand what people are saying to me, and I don’t get what they want and I don’t know how to say that I don’t get it. I am terrified of becoming stuck in that state one day.
But the other day……I had a GOOD day! I live off of those like they are food.
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Crazy, Daily Life, Guilty, Health, life, Random, Self awareness, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Whining | Tagged: Arnold Chiari Malformation, Chiari, Chiari Malformation, good day, health, housework, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, suicide |
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Posted by thought4food
October 26, 2007
Zero Tolerance = Zero Common Sense This is just an excuse to keep from having to think for yourself. Anytime a second grade student is suspended for a freakin stick figure drawing and children are banned from playing cops and robbers, we have gone way too far.
Chernobyl spread radiation through the atmosphere and it infested the wombs of all child bearing women as well as anyone with a functioning brain cell and we are seeing the results of that today in the following ways: Homeland Security, Political Correctness, the attack on smokers by lying drunken sex abuser politicians, the American people allowing this to happen, the fact that we allow sports figures to make millions of dollars to play a game but the people who educate our children barely make a living wage. I could keep listing things until your momma spits up, but you get the point.
Fire should be regulated and taxed. We should put Homeland Security on that right away.
It is my own personal belief that Homeland Security is about as useful as windshield wipers on a cat’s ass.
It is also my own personal belief that Homeland Security will probably come knocking on my door some day because I’m a threat to…..well…..homeland security, due to my subversive nature. And the fact that I have the audacity to say they are a crock of shit on the internet. And that I believe they are the single greatest threat to the American people since 1776. Any time Homeland Security is in charge of who gets to join the Mile High Club, you have a problem that needs solving, boys and girls. Think about it. Lucky for Homeland Security, not many of you read my blog!
If Homeland Security really wanted to secure the homeland, the first thing they would do is execute every treasonous bastard that had a hand in forming that organization in the first place. Then they would arrest themselves for treason, and then vaporize the organization for all time. THAT would be some homeland security!
Don’t let other people tell you what is okay and what isn’t. Political Correctness is just someone else’s way of saying “Do what I want you to do or I’m going to make you feel bad about yourself.” It’s schoolyard bullshit in it’s most refined form. Don’t fall for it again.
FINALLY! Someone had the dump-truck sized balls to say something in Blackwater’s favor! Give that man a medal! It’s the saddest thing in the world when it takes balls to say the simple truth. Americans used to be known for that. Now we’re not. What does that say about us?
We need to take care of our soldiers and our veterans. We need to take BETTER care of them. We really don’t need to have this explained to death do we?
Don’t be greedy. It’s unattractive in the extreme. Nobody likes that about you but you.
Don’t be selfish. It’s unattractive in the extreme. Nobody likes that about you but you.
What goes around comes around. Don’t be surprised when it comes back on you. You might think you’re being slick right now, but it won’t look so good when you’re on the receiving end.
Play fair. You learned this in first grade. It still applies. The rules didn’t change when you hit twenty-one.
If you can’t tell your grandma about it, you probably shouldn’t do it.
The spell-checker on a blog should include the word “blog” in its’ dictionary! Seriously!
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America, Crazy, Daily Life, Freedom, Guilty, Humor, life, news, Random, Rights, Seeing Red, Thoughts, Whining | Tagged: Blackwater, Chernobyl, Education, Homeland Security |
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Posted by thought4food
October 4, 2007
I watched the news today and saw a story about a foster child being sent into court ordered risk of child abuse. I have first hand experience with exactly this issue. It is both astonishing and sickening how many people will blindly send a defenceless child into danger simply because the letter of the law says to do so. It sounds eerily similar to the Nazi’s claiming that they were only following orders.
In the case of the foster child, he is 2 years old and has lived with the foster parents virtually his entire life. His parents have lost all parental rights and the foster parents want to adopt him. The birth father, a convicted pedophile who is a Mexican national, stated in court that when released from prison he intends to return to Mexico to live with his mother. His birth mother never showed up for the hearing.
However, before the foster parents can adopt him the state must try to find a blood relative who is willing to take him. After a 2 year search, the mother of the pedophile finally agreeed to take the child. Yes, this is the same woman that the pedophile father will be living with when he gets out of prison. In another country. Where the United States, the birth country of this 2 year old child, will have no jurisdiction. And the state is actually defending their position of sending this AMERICAN child there and not letting him be adopted here by the only family he has ever known.
He will be taken away from the only parents he has ever known and sent to a country he has never seen to live with people he doesn’t know, who speak a language he doesn’t understand. And why are they even thinking about doing this? Because the stated goal of Social Services Departments in this country is to keep families together. NOT……I repeat NOT the welfare of children. Look it up.
If this isn’t a case of court ordered child abuse I’ll kiss your ass on the courthouse square at high noon.
Did you know that if you have a child crossing a county line for visitation and they are abused, if you do not see the abuse yourself, and there is no physical proof of abuse, you cannot report it in your county? Because YOUR county doesn’t have jurisdiction in any other county. Think about that for a second. This means that you have to literally stand outside the windows on the sidewalk peeking in and witness the abuse yourself in order to report your child being abused in another county. Scary isn’t it?
Can you imagine what it would be like for a child to be sent into another country? No offense to Mexico, I happen to love that country. The fact that it’s another country just makes it exponentially more likely that he’ll be lost.
We wonder why people are so much more violent than they were in the past. It isn’t the availability of guns. It isn’t violence in movies and on TV. (although it might have something to do with the JackAss movies and Bam, but that’s another blog) It isn’t even drugs. For the most part those things are all symptoms and tools. Until children are big enough to DO the things that catch our attention, we allow the most atrocious things to happen to them and we hide behind the letter of the law like that makes it alright.
It took My Dearest Husband and I years of anguish and pain, along with the help of an incredibly wonderful counselor who was willing to actually DO something, to finally get our daughter out of a sentence of court ordered child abuse. And now we are seeing all the unfortunate effects of the time she spent in that hell. She will never be who she could have been if there had been more people like her counselor. She will never be the happy, light hearted little munchkin she was the first time I saw her. With alot of hard work, she CAN be a fantastic, wonderful, caring, happy woman. Unfortunately, she will have to fight a fight she had no business having to fight. She should have been protected. She wasn’t. She was tossed under the wheels of the bus by the Social Services system who believes that the law is more important than the well being of children and that blood is more meaningful than love to a child.
What the hell are we thinking?
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Abuse, America, Blog, Blogging, Blogroll, Child Abuse, Children, Court, Crazy, Daily Life, Family, Guilty, Help, Home, Kids, Law, Legal, life, Random, Reminiscences, Rights, Seeing Red, Teenagers, Thoughts, Trial, True Story, Uncategorized, Whining | Tagged: adoption, blood ties, Child Abuse, court ordered child abuse, DHS, family law, family ties, foster parent, Nazi, protecting children, social services |
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Posted by thought4food
October 3, 2007
Kennedy Assassination
I don’t want my mysteries solved. I want to ruminate about them over a nice hot cup of java on crisp Sunday mornings while I’m sitting on the porch swing with My Dearest Husband watching the sun come up over the valley. It gives us something to really sink our teeth into without getting too full, if you know what I mean.
Like, I prefer the lone gunman theory for the JFK shooting. I’ve seen alot of stupid fast shooters in my time. It would be just about like Lee Harvey Oswald to be one of those gun nuts who put in enough hours and had just enough natural ability to pull that off all by himself. If you’ve ever been all hyped up on the A-line you know how things just seem to move in slow mo while everything is happening, while in reality it’s all moving in hyperspeed. If Oswald happened to be in just that frame of reference, he could have pulled it off easy. All by his lonesome.
My Dearest Husband prefers the group theory. More to keep the argument going than any firm belief in it I think.
We went to Dealey Plaza in Dallas, stood on the grassy knoll, actually stood on the X they have marked on the road where Kennedy took the shot. Kinda creepy how it’s all laid out there like that. We stood on that X and looked back at the windows of the School book depository where Oswald would have been shooting from. It would have been a clear and easy shot. Not near as complicated as it was always made to seem.
The fact is, he had easier shots at Kennedy while he was coming straight towards him. My guess is that he chose not to take them because so many people would have been looking right in his direction at the time of the shots. It would have been so much easier to see him(Oswald) there. By waiting until Kennedy turned the corner and was moving away, all faces and cameras would have been pointing away from his location.
Could easily have been one man. It could easily have been Oswald. Or someone one else. Who knows who it was.?
Robert Garwood
Bobby Garwood walks out of Viet Nam more than ten years after he was captured and held as a POW. He begins to tell about other US service men still in camps in Viet Nam and other countries in Southeast Asia. But Bobby Garwood is an embarrassment to the US government and they don’t like him. So what he says has to be kept quiet. However, what he says can be proven. Google him. Look him up.
Read everything you can find out about his disappearance, his captivity, and his return home. Then think about what you now know about our involvement in Southeast Asia. Think about all of the despicable things our government did to the very soldiers they sent over there to fight. Then decide what you think about what a man did to survive his captivity in the hands of the enemy.
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America, Blog, Blogging, Blogroll, Crazy, Free, Freedom, Guilty, Law, Legal, life, Random, Reminiscences, Rights, Seeing Red, Thoughts, Trial, True Story, Uncategorized | Tagged: , Cambodia, Camps, dealey plaza, Garwood, kennedy, MIA, mystery, oswald, POW, Saigon, Viet Nam, war |
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Posted by thought4food
June 8, 2007
Teenagers ………….. *sigh* …………….. nuf said.
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Posted by thought4food
May 15, 2007
I have recently been subjected to , and by extension subjected a dear friend to, Tacky Behavior On The Part Of People Who Should Know Better. Now, I have been around this kind of trashy behavior all my life and I’m tired of putting up with it.
In my younger more feisty days I would have put the gloves on and gone hunting down the offending trashites, looking for some much deserved justice out of their persons in some shape or manor, preferably involving bruising. However, as I am older and slightly calmer now, I will wait for a bit, let things settle down , and find the right time for the information to come out.
You see, I myself take part of the blame for this trailer-park tinged behavior. I accepted an invitation from a secondhand person to an event. And since my radar isn’t in proper working order anymore, I completely missed the significance of that little faux pas. However, knowing the inviter like I do, I had to believe that it was ok to accept, as he has always been one of the most considerate and honorable men I know. Therefore, when I was asked to invite a friend, I had no qualms about inviting a very, very good friend who is tenderhearted and a LOT of fun to be around. We would go together, meet the rest of the group, and have a rip roarin good time at a few slightly raunchy places, thereby having stories to tell the grand-kids later that would make them blush and look at us in new and exciting ways! It would all be good.
NOT! We were excluded from the beginning. It was rude to the point of ruthlessness. It would have been kinder to have just told us after dinner that we wouldn’t be included in the rest of the festivities planned for the evening and so thank you for coming to the dinner and we’ll see you at the wedding. Instead we were to follow the other two cars to a hotel and join them in a room that had been reserved. We were out of the car and following them across the parking lot when they hit the door. As we got to the door maybe ten feet behind them, we found it remarkable that the fifty feet across the lobby was entirely empty of the approximately 10 women who had just entered in front of us. They were very swift of feet! We also found that the door required a key card to open and we didn’t have one. So we proceeded around to the front and inquired at the front desk as to whether they had a room in either of the names we knew. She informed us that she couldn’t help us. Not that there were no rooms in that name, but that she couldn’t help us.
We spent a good fifteen minutes walking through the ground floor hall trying to see if we could hear a bunch of white trash bitches honking off behind any of the doors, but no such luck. So, now having to admit that we had been deliberately ditched by this marvelous bunch of common hos, we have a few hours to kill. We are both nearly speechless. I mean seriously, how many times after you get out of the sixth grade do you honestly have to consider things like this happening to you?
So we found a couple of ways to spend our time and then went home. It was kinda sad. It was even more sad the next day when again I saw two of the girls in the group and watched as they caught sight of me, turned to each other and began to giggle and laugh uproariously with each other.
It makes me wonder about the kind of people who think that hurting people for sport is a good thing. I wonder what kind of things they tell themselves to make it ok to hurt someone’s feelings just for fun. I wonder what they say inside of themselves when they are choosing the next person to cause pain to, is there some certain trait that they are looking for? Or is it just the next unfortunate person who comes into their sight? I don’t understand how one goes about telling themselves that they have soooo many people just waiting in line to be their lifelong friend, that they can afford to callously toss good people aside like garbage and laugh about it.
Like I said at the beginning of this whole thing, I’ve been around this kind of common, trashy, unraised, behavior all my life. I’ve seen it a million times. It comes from not being raised right in the beginning, then being too lazy to make sure that you choose to act right when it’s your turn to call the shots. It’s just easier to roll on back to those less than humane beginnings .
I have accepted my part in the hurt caused to my friend. I have apologized to her several times. If my brain was in proper working order my red flags would have been dancing the macarena at me over that invitation and I would have known better than to accept. I was trying to help celebrate a new beginning for friends. My friend was only there because I asked her to come with me. It was my disability that caused her pain and for my part in that I am deeply sorry and ashamed.
Now let’s add to the entertainment by adding that the main person at the previous event managed to top off the event the following evening by hurting the feelings of an eight year old girl by popping off at the mouth to her at the end of a very long evening when said eight year old girl went to tell her that she was leaving.
I am no longer surprised by the stupidity of people or the incredibly stupid things they do to hurt people for no good reason. I see it and I feel it all the time. It just makes me terribly, terribly sad. I hope that they accomplished whatever it was they were planning to do by excluding us, and I hope it was worth the cost.
Because (to quote myself) I’ve managed to live my entire life without them in it, and I’ll manage quite well to live the rest of it without them in it as well, and never really notice the difference at all.
My friend is owed a huge apology. A heartfelt apology. I hope she gets one.
As for me, I am neither owed an apology, nor will I accept one. I am done.
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Posted by thought4food
April 17, 2007
It amazes me that in the the most advanced time that we know of on this earth, in one of the most socially, economically, and scientifically advanced countries on this earth, we still can’t manage to keep our asses out of each other’s bedrooms!
Who cares if gay couples get married? How in the hell does that possibly have any contrary effect on heterosexual couples? And don’t come thumping any Bibles at me either. Let me just remind you that one of the main reasons this country was founded was the desire for religious freedom. That means that you don’t get to pound your mainstream Christian beliefs down my throat.
We no longer need to be fruitful and multiply. I think it’s pretty plain for anyone to see that the human race has gotten that one down pat. We might even be said to have been excessively successful at it. So, other than procreation, what is the problem?
Let’s just put it bluntly. Because heterosexuals are in the majority, we can just refuse to allow anyone in a minority the same rights and protections as us because they are different. I thought we took care of that kind of idiotic thinking with the civil rights movement. I guess not quite.
It’s funny….I notice that when children are young, you have to point out to them the same lesson over and over. They don’t have the ability to apply a lesson learned in one situation to a slightly different situation. It takes a little bit of maturity and a little bit of intelligence for them to get the hang of it. Sadly it seems that we haven’t reached that point as a country yet.
Aside from the fact that I just don’t feel like someone else’s sexuality is my business, the problem I most have with the national feeling against gay marriage is this: if it’s OK for the majority to tell gay people who they are allowed to marry, how long will it be before they can tell YOU who YOU can marry?
That may sound alarmist to you, all comfy and safe in your bed with your husband or wife. But what if your spouse is of a different faith than you? What if that becomes politically incorrect? What if the majority suddenly decides that interfaith marriages are a security risk? What if they’re un-American? What happens if you can’t marry the person you love because their faith is one thing and yours is another?
Not their business, you say? What about the separation of Church and State, you ask? Good question! What about that? There are plenty of churches ready and willing to marry gay couples. The states won’t legalize the marriages. Their reasons are all based on religious beliefs. That is a pure, unadulterated violation of the rules governing the separation of Church and State. Go figure. Not the first example by far, and certainly won’t be the last.
Here’s the deal. We let it slide that two people who love each other and are willing to make a legal binding commitment to each other, be told that they can’t do it because someone doesn’t like what they do in bed together. We let it slide because it isn’t us. We let it slide because we are ignorant, embarrassed, afraid. We let it slide. And the next thing that happens is, someone is standing in our bedroom door making judgements about whatever private things we do that are none of their damn business, and saying that we can’t do it because the majority says it’s wrong.
Couldn’t happen here, could it? Not in America. Not in the land of the free. Well, it’s not really free anymore though, is it?
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Posted by thought4food
April 11, 2007
If you have a problem with people saying what they think, you might want to stop reading right here. Because unlike Imus, I won’t be coming back later to apologize for saying it. As far as I know we still live in America. I still have a right to free speech. If you don’t like what I say, you still have a right not to listen to it.
I understand why a politician will apologize for making a remark that most intelligent people will naturally notice is remarkably stupid, like Imus did. They have a future riding on their ability to appeal to a majority of the people in their districts.
Entertainment personalities, especially “shock jocks” like Imus, on the other hand, are supposedly making their living by saying incredibly stupid things on a regular basis. Why should they bow to the pressure of public opinion and apologize for saying it? Hell, why bother apologizing for it at all? It’s out there for all time now anyway. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube, dude. All you’re gonna do now is smear it all over the counter.
Imus has a right to say whatever stupid thing he wants to say. As long as he doesn’t violate any FCC rules and regs he can say anything he likes and we have no right to censure him. If we don’t like what he says we have the option of simply turning him off. As long as Imus keeps his dumb ass off my property, he can say all of the backwardly stupid, inbred thinking, family-tree doesn’t branch kind of stuff he wants to and I’ll defend his right to say it to the death.
I don’t have to agree with him, what he says, how he thinks, or even the fact that in some areas he obviously can’t or hasn’t thought. It doesn’t matter that I believe that he is probably making remarks like this out of some sort of self hatred. He has a right to be an idiot on the air if he wants to and he doesn’t have to apologize to anyone for it! He owes no one an apology for being less than a decent human. Being a creditable, decent, humane individual isn’t a requirement for having your rights protected in this country.
We in America need to remember that we are guaranteed the right of free speech. We don’t need to apologize to anyone for the things we say. Whatever stupid, ignorant, ill thought out, uneducated, pitiful opinions we might have, we are free to state them to the world if we want to and we don’t owe apologies to anyone for them.
We are free in this country to be idiots, racists, bigots, and fools if we want to. It’s a free country. So, I say: Go Imus! Talk it up!
Just make sure you stay away from my house because your right to free speech ends at my property line. I have no problem with temporarily seceding from the Union and kicking your sorry ass from here to next week.
Barring that, talk on, ya idiot! I’ll defend your right to do so on the public airwaves until America isn’t America anymore. Which could be next year if we keep on in the same way we’re going now.
I’ll put the coffee on the for the Homeland Security guys, just in case. If having sex on an airplane is in their domain, defending Imus’ right to be an idiot might be too. *sigh*
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Posted by thought4food
April 7, 2007
I remember the first time I realized that I was me. That I was a real person. That I was separate from everyone else.
I was about 5 years old. I woke up in my bed with the sun shining just like every morning. I was coming downstairs to find my mom, just like every morning. When I got to the bottom of the stairs and started across the living room, I saw my shadow on the wall.
It hit me then. I was a person. You can’t have a shadow if you aren’t a person. I stopped. My shadow stopped. I moved. My shadowed moved. I looked at my hands. They moved, they opened, closed. They did everything I told them to do. I was a real person. All by myself. Totally enclosed and complete! I was somebody!
When I looked up from my hands the entire room looked different. The sun was brighter. It almost blinded me. It was very hot. I couldn’t remember feeling it so hot on my skin before. I could see a bajillion dusties floating around in it. I wondered why they never made me sneeze and if they could clog up my new lungs. That was how I felt. New.
I had just been made into a real person. I had just been made into me and turned on. I said my name to myself over and over. I danced in the living room, I danced in the dining room, I danced in the kitchen where my mom was at. I wondered if she knew that I was a person.
She didn’t seem to notice. I thought that maybe she was too busy to see it. I would just keep it a secret for now. I wanted it for myself for a while. I wanted to be me all to myself just for now. I would tell her I was me later. It might hurt her feelings to find out that I wasn’t her anymore. I didn’t want to hurt momma’s feelings. I was too happy right then.
I spent that whole day watching my feet walk, my hands make mud pies, my mouth chew, my hair fly in the wind, my eyes move in my head. I saw me running in other peoples’ windows. I felt the sidewalk hit my feet. I concentrated all day long on what it felt like to be me. It was pretty heady stuff, that being me all by myself.
And, I kinda liked the secret. I decided to keep it for a while longer. I giggled to myself for days. I watched everyone with my secret self eyes. No one else would know but me, because I was the only one who was me, now.
In the end, I’m not sure I ever did tell momma that I wasn’t her anymore. My daughter never told me that she wasn’t me anymore either. Maybe we all end up being kind enough not to tell our momma’s that.
The older I get, and the more I talk to my momma, I sometimes wonder if not being your momma is something that gets reversed as we age. Because, unbeknownst to any of us at the time, my mom, I, and my daughter all taught ourselves to tie our shoes with our left hand, you know, just in case we should ever need to know how to do that. (insert innocent “what????” face here)
Y’all all do that too, right?………….RIGHT????????
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Posted by thought4food
April 6, 2007
I used to live on a very busy corner in town. (see Great Quest For The Head Of The Possum post) The house was at the bottom of a very steep hill, ” A very steep hill”. When it snowed, all you had to do was look at that bit of road and you could tell how much because no one would drive up it.
One nice summer day I was sitting on the couch in my living room reading, while my dearest husband was sleeping. He worked night shift then and he slept during the day. It was a normal day. As much as you can call any day with me in it normal.
It slowly came to me that something wasn’t right. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. I looked up, I looked around. I didn’t see anything wrong in the house. I looked back down and started to read again. Then it seemed like the couch was beginning to vibrate…..but no, it was the house that was beginning to vibrate. Now that was odd.
I got up, pulled aside the curtain on the door and looked out just in time to see a steam roller knock one of the brick supports out from under my porch roof, ride up onto the porch, hit the house, and then fall through the porch floor into the hole underneath it.
Well howdy! I turned and walked halfway into the bedroom, turned and walked back to the door to look again, walked halfway back to the bedroom again, back to the door. I realize that I have absolutely NO “a steamroller just hit my house” etiquette. I have no idea what to do. I am saved by my dearest husband’s voice calling from the bedroom inquiring as to what the !@#$%^ just occurred.
I walked into the bedroom to explain and he is halfway out of bed and halfway into his pants. I told him a steamroller hit the house. He asked if I was OK. I said yes. He said OK. He then proceeded to add to my already vociferous bad word vocabulary by leaps and bounds. I was impressed! And pleased. You can never have too many bad words to choose from. Especially in a situation like this.
We went back to the door and gingerly went outside. Not easy since the door bumped the part of the steamroller that was still above the porch floor when we opened it. As we came off the porch a very pale, agitated, wet and odoriferous gentleman scampered up to me asking if I was OK. Not quite in full grip of all my faculties yet, and not realizing who he was, I simply told him that I was fine. Turns out he was the man driving the steamroller.
People began showing up fairly quickly. As I said in a previous post, the entire world passed our door 3 times a day at this house. A steam roller sitting where the porch used to be drew a fair amount of attention.
It just so happened that our landlord had a business just across the street and he saw the whole thing. Bless his heart, I believe he nearly had apoplexy on the spot. Everyone was very excited. Especially that poor smelly fella that was driving the thing. Eventually he began to explain to my dearest husband what happened.
He had driven the steam roller to the top of the very steep hill to use it paving a parking lot that was located just below the top. As he got near the driveway to the parking lot, the brakes gave way on the steam roller. He tried the emergency brake, but that gave way as well. By that time, the steam roller was well on its’ way down the hill. He decided that he would turn the roller towards the curb, with the idea that rubbing against the curb would stop it, or at least slow it down. No such luck.
By the time he realized that it was getting away from him and he wasn’t going to be able to stop it, he was fast approaching the intersection. He couldn’t see beyond our house to see what was coming andhe was very frightened, so he bailed out. The odoriferousness came from the fact that after he bailed out, he realized that what could have been coming was a bus load of children. The imagery was too much for his bowels.
When the steam roller was rolling down the hill scraping against the curb, I felt it shaking the house. When it reached our driveway, it turned slightly and ran up into our yard, crushed a bush, abolished the brick porch post, broke through the brand new 2 x 6 flooring of the porch right before my eyes, hit the house about 3 feet to the left of me and the rest is history.
We made the front page of the paper. The insurance put a new porch on the house and bought us a new table and chairs to put on it. And we were known for years afterwards as the people who’s house got hit by the steam roller.
I ask people this all the time……….Is it just me, or do things like this happen to you too?
The answer is always………No, Red, It’s Just YOU!!!!!
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