Little Rooster Leaving the Nest, Pt. 1

The Little Rooster and I went to go look at his new apartment yesterday. He and another boy have decided that dorm life is a little too rowdy for them, so they would rather live away from the campus. Both the Little Rooster and his friend, Buddy are taking 17 credit hours, and dorm life is not necessarily conducive to their studies.

After having seen the Loverboy's dorm, I can understand this.

So, we went to look at the apartment. It's not too bad, really. It brought back memories of my younger days, when living was lean.

We were to meet up with Buddy and his mother and look at the apartment at two in the afternoon, but, they were running late. The Little Rooster and I decided to go and have a milkshake and visit a dollar type store to kill some time before we met to look at the apartment.

As we were checking out, this woman, who appeared to be older than I am, started hitting on the Little Rooster. She finished, looking him up and down, by saying, "If I were twenty years younger..."

Gag.

This same sort of thing has happened to both the Little Rooster and Loverboy from the time they were 16 and older.

As the mother of the boys, it seems so gross for an older woman to make passes her sons when they are still children. I guess, from the mother's perspective, it's just too much for me to fathom.

I was thinking about that later, though. I have complimented a young man for being handsome before, but it was in a motherly sort of way, I think. I cannot imagine throwing myself at a child twenty or more years my junior. What kind of woman does this? How ridiculous.

In any case, I wanted to let you know, if you are reading this and have made passes at a child, please do not think that you are appealing to these boys. They already have mothers and what you are trying to offer to them scares them. It is certainly not brilliant to behave in such a manner in front of their mother, either. Your behavior is not befitting of someone respectable.

I had to say it. These women are everywhere.

So, the Little Rooster and Buddy are now the new renters on a small apartment. They are cleaning it and painting it as I write, planning for the big move-in date.

Buddy's mother seems to want to outfit the place for them with new curtains, rugs and the works. I personally think they would have more fun outfitting (the male version of decorating) the place themselves.

My philosophy is one a little different than Buddy's mother. I decided I wanted new plates, a new vacuum cleaner, a new couch, and a new tv. Guess who gets my old ones so I can get new ones?! See?! I am also donating tea towels, bath towels, and various other things.

Loverboy taught me that forking out with all new stuff is a waste of time, anyway. I'll bet everything I gave him to start off with has been lost or stolen. It wasn't much, but, it would have been more fun for me to have the new stuff and let him lose or give away the old stuff.

I will keep you updated on the apartment. The Little Rooster and his friend, Buddy are so excited to be striking out for the first time on their own.

I'm excited and a little blue, too.

I'm also keeping my eye on that old slut in the dollar type store.

Am I Right, or Am I Right?

It's been a hot today. I looked at the thermometer this afternoon and almost fainted. It's one of those handy-dandy thermometers that read the temperature outside while you are inside. The thermometer read 107.3 degrees. Yikes.

Suffice it to say that I didn't go outside. I watched the hummingbirds from the window as they buzzed up to the feeders, took a quick sip and darted off. I almost got the binoculars to make sure the nectar wasn't boiling or caramelized. I was wondering if the little welfare birds weren't going to burst into flames in mid-air.

Honey drove up this evening, just as it began to rain. It cooled down about ten degrees and shot warm raindrops into the ground. It rained for less than two minutes. When it stopped, the ground was still dry, but it had pores from the contact.

I began to tell Honey about two men I saw walking in front of the house earlier in the day. I don't know what they were doing, but it was hot enough that they were not on a leisurely walk. The nearest house from the direction they were coming was a little over a mile away.

I told Honey they were heading toward Sunny Vale Road and I pointed in the direction the men traveled.

"That's not Sunny Vale Road," he told me. "It's Cemetery Road."

"No it's not. It's Sunny Vale Road." I insisted. I'm right, too.

"No," he said. "Cemetery Road."

"Wanna bet? Get your shoes on and we'll go see." I never bet unless I know I'm right.

Believe it or not, Honey got his shoes on, and off we went. Of course, he wouldn't let me drive.

"What do I get if I'm right?" I asked as he turned the key.

"What do I get if I'm right?" he redirected.

We drove down to the road and I looked up at the sign pole.

Sunny Vale Road. (the top sign)

Cemetery Road. (the bottom sign)

One road, two names.

Deflating.

I told you I was right.

The Fourth, the Fireworks, and the Frog

I got my wish. It rained good and hard for a little while. Looking out the window, it seemed as if the pond should be overflowing.

Nope. The ground sucked up the moisture like a dry sponge.

Loverboy arrived in late afternoon. It was so good to see him. He's too thin, but things have not yet changed much. The Little Rooster and the Chicklet jealously vied for his attention the rest of the day.

Honey grilled burgers after the rain let up---then came the fireworks.

Fireworks make me nervous. The Little Rooster took charge of picking them out this year and he has a penchant for risky behavior with fireworks. I was ready to choke him for showing off. I didn't, but I might, still.

Both of the boys are old enough to vote and register for the Selective Service (and serve, if they wish). I was thinking about that when they were throwing firecrackers at each other (mainly the Little Risky Rooster).

Suffice it to say that all of the fire on the grass is out.

I wanted to leave you with the pictures of the teeny **bullfrog I took for you. The little guy is probably not much more than a quarter inch long. Here he is, posing in the palm of Honey's hand:






















**Edit July 9th:
My Wise and Beloved Mother told me that this is not a bullfrog. I thought it was. Darn it. It's just a frog.

Summertime... Fish Are Jumpin'

It's that time of year again---where it's so hot and humid that you feel drained and breathless when you walk out the door.

It's also that time of year when we have to mow at least once a week. Mowing was today's project. It took about four hours today, including bush-hogging. Honey and the Little Rooster have that task. My job is to run out with glasses of ice-water for them every now and then.

I don't understand how the air can be so humid and the ground so dry at the same time. We had a little bit of rain in the last week, but the ground soaked it up almost immediately. The pond level is down so far, I think the fish must be fin to fin.

It was early evening before we went to feed the fish today. We have to watch where we walk so we don't crush the little bullfrogs that are everywhere by the pond. I was going to take my camera, but, after its been in the house in the air conditioning, the lens fogs up for the longest time. The bullfrogs are so small they could sit on your pinky fingernail and still not touch your skin.

We fed the welfare fish their cheese puffs and dog food and watched. More bass have appeared to menace the smaller fish.

This afternoon, Honey and I were watching this neat little water spider and heard a splash. We looked up to see a perch jump about four feet out of the water on to the bank! He flopped on the bank for a few seconds and jumped back into the pond and swam off. I suppose every species has a daredevil!

Have a safe and fun Fourth of July! Land of the Free; Home of the Brave!

Gone Fishin'

Okay, so you think I turned 40, gave a nice little speech and then ran away from home, right?

Nope.

Last thing I remember, internet-wise was, weekend before last, when I was trying to burn a DVD-RW using my external fire-wire drive. The DVD-RW seemed to burn fine, but, when the burning was finished, the drive would not read the stupid thing. I started poking around on the internet to read some of those geek forums to see if I could find an answer. I never post in them because there is always some smart-aleck, snot-nosed kid waiting to use his newly acquired insults on anyone with a Stupid Question. They're all Stupid Questions to them. Usually, someone else has posted my Stupid Question and after much insulting, someone finally takes pity and answers the question.

The answer to my Stupid Question? Update your burning software. In my case, that is Nero 7.

I began the download for the update to Nero and completed some other tasks I needed to finish. The download seemed to be running slowly. It took several hours to download the file update.

It turns out that the update kicked in the Fair Access Policy put in place by HughesNet the exact same month that I began my contract. I had no idea about the FAP. The update was four megabytes more than my daily limit.

After the stupid FAP is in place, your bandwidth drops significantly for 24 hours past the latest time you went over your bandwidth. I cannot begin to tell you how angry that makes me. I pay far too much for internet access to get poked in the eye like this. I have only violated the policy on one other occasion, and technically, it was the Little Rooster when he was home recuperating after the surgery on his collarbone.

My limit? 375 megabytes per 24 hour period. The cost? Just shy of $70.00 per month. I have been checking into my other options. We are very remote, so there are no other options for internet service besides satellite. Wild-Blue (Dish Network's provider) has a FAP, as well, but it seems much more fair than HughesNet.

So, for the next 24 hours, I could have written a letter, mailed it, and it would have arrived more quickly than sending an e-mail.

The rest of the week flew by. Between the kids, pets, and stormy weather, I lost track of the week.

Last Friday, however, Honey took his vacation. We decided not to go anywhere this year. With rising gas prices, we decided to spend our vacation time and money on the master bedroom.

For over a year, we have lived with the master bedroom in utter chaos. The walls and ceiling were comprised of OSB board. If you've never seen wall-to-wall (and ceiling) OSB, just imagine that someone ate three different kinds of wood and then barfed all over the room. I complained to Honey about it, and he agreed that we would re-invent the room. I'm not sure if time or money is a greater factor, but, both of them delayed the project. Until now.

We decided on drywall and pine trim. I even talked Honey into two partial walls for each side of the stairs. Everyone needs extra storage!

He brought the drywall home on Thursday evening, and we put it up on Friday. The ceiling is sloped downward, so, one side starts at eight feet and ends at a little over six feet. There is not one square corner in the room. There are eight electrical outlets and one double switch for the lights. It is not fun to cut out for outlets.

We used a very thin drywall. It was a quarter-inch thick. It was amazingly sturdy for its thickness. I worried that it would be breakable, but it was light and flexible. Since we were putting it up on top of OSB, we weren't worried about the future strength of the drywall. I don't know if we'd do it if we were just putting that thin of a product by itself.

Sunday, we took a break. The Little Rooster turned 18! I can hardly believe how time passes.

After church, we went to the Mexican Restaurant, and you're not going to believe it, but the Little Rooster fell for the Sneaky Sombrero Trick.

“I'm heading straight out that door if they come with the hat,” said the Little Rooster, pointing toward the back door of the restaurant.

“Don't worry about it,” I told him.

The Little Rooster's girlfriend, Cupcake came with us. She's like gum on the bottom of your shoe. She's a great kid, but she seems a little clingy to our most recent graduate. My Beloved and Wise Mother and Wise and Wonderful Father also attended. We always have so much fun!

After a delicious meal, I leaned over to Honey and said, “Why don't you sneak up there and tell them it's his birthday and pay the bill.”

Honey nodded in agreement and got up to lead the conspiracy.

“Where's he going?” the Little Rooster inquired suspiciously.

“He's just going to pay the bill,” I assured him.

“He'd better not be telling them it's my birthday,” he stated flatly.

“He's got to pay the bill,” I reiterated.

Honey came back and exchanged a look with me. I tried to stall a little by drinking my iced tea really slowly.

Soon, they came with the Big Grey Sombrero and a lovely baked ice cream. They placed the hat on the Little Rooster's head and began to sing. I don't know what they sang. Something in Spanish. The Little Rooster kept nervously looking over his shoulders the entire time.

Soon, the song was over and everyone clapped. Almost with a sense of relief, the Little Rooster took one last glance over his shoulder. It was at that point that our Favorite Waiter smeared whipped cream in his face from the other side. It was a beautifully executed stealth move. I didn't see it coming. The Little Rooster didn't see it coming.

His face flamed under a layer of whipped cream. He had a hard time getting the whipped cream out of his ear and nostril.

Suffice it to say that he didn't share his baked ice cream with me or Honey. He shared it with Cupcake, of all people.

We came home and played basketball with my Wise and Wonderful Father. Let me restate that. The Little Rooster, the Chicklet, Cupcake and the Grandfather played basketball while my mother, Honey, and I rested in lawn chairs and watched. They play too rough for me. Honey, Mom, and I did get into a very brief game of P-I-G (we aren't allowed to play H-O-R-S-E because us slow folks take up too much time). The Fearless Foursome played another game of two on two until the kids were all ready to pass out. My Wise and Wonderful Father does not take it easy on anyone when it comes to sports. Seriously.

I personally do not enjoy the art of sweating, so I was satisfied to watch the kids try to hold back from begging the Grandfather for mercy.

When the Grandparents left, the phone rang. It was Loverboy. He will be gracing us with his presence on the Fourth of July. We haven't seen him in a while. I hadn't talked to him since the beginning of June, when his new car wouldn't start, he lost his phone, and he was broke. Sigh.

So, Monday was a serious work day. We put three coats of paint on the wall and put up the moulding, baseboards and the two new partial walls. I was so tired and yucky at the end of the day. All I wanted was a nice shower.

As luck would have it, they decided to flush our lines on Monday.

“Of all the days to flush the lines, why on a Saturday?” I whined.

Honey raised his eyebrows and said, “Uh. It's Monday.”

Well, duh. He just worked me so hard that my brain locked up.

Today, Tuesday, July 1^st, we finished the room and moved all the furniture back in. It was a tiring experience, but it's beautiful.

You know how you can envision something and it looks great in your mind? This looked even better than I thought it would. It was really worth it.

Now, I'm on vacation. Honey can piddle and tinker all he wants. I'm going fishin'.

Henny Penny Has a Birthday

I am so excited!

Today is my birthday.

Yes, I know what you're thinking... you're thinking I'm excited because I'm going to have a party, get a bunch of gifts and eat cake and ice cream until my britches don't fit.

Nope. (Well, maybe on the cake and ice cream.)

I'm finally 40!

It feels pretty good, to tell you the truth. Forty is a significant number.

Historically, it rained for 40 days and 40 nights on ol' Noah during the big flood. Then came the Promise from God. The children of Israel wandered in the desert, fed by God with manna from Heaven for 40 years. Then came the Promised Land. Moses was up on Mount Sinai talking with God for 40 days and 40 nights. Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness and remained for 40 days after the resurrection.

You don't see much remarkable happening with 39 years!

Forty winks means 'to take a nap.'

The boys run a 40-yard dash in football to determine how fast they are.

WD-40 is a pretty universal oil. There's over 2000 uses for the stuff.

People work a 40 hour week on a regular basis. Anything over that is overtime.

The Lord has really blessed me in this 40 years, and I have so much more to look forward to.

My children are almost grown now. I can't even imagine starting a family now. It's commonplace for people to wait to have children until they are 'older.' I have a cousin who had her first child when she was 45. Honey and I were marveling at that yesterday. In less than 5 years, Lord willing, our children will all be out of the nest! My cousin will be dealing with a teenager when she's nearly 60. Wow.

I don't have to lie about my age. No really. I'm no 20 year-old starving model, but, I would much rather tell the truth about being 40 and enjoy people telling me I look younger. Can you imagine how it would feel to say I was 35 and have someone tell me I look 40?!

I can eat what I want. Speaking of a starving model, I can eat a triple patty cheeseburger with onions on every layer and not feel the least inclined to eat a salad with vinegar on top. No one gives a durn what a 40 year-old woman eats, and a 40 year-old woman doesn't give a durn what anyone thinks about what she eats!

I can wear what I want. I do not have to pack my love handles into a set of head to toe Spanx just to wear the latest fashions. Comfort is key. A 40 year-old woman is confident enough to wear what she wants without feeling the necessity to cater to airbrushed magazine models in clothes that were never designed to fit anyone but a stick with breast implants.

I might have always done the above things, but it feels nearly powerful to be 40.

Turning 40 feels liberating, for some reason, and I hate that word. It makes me think of butch women shouting at an Al Gore rally. Ick. By liberating, I mean that I'm not in the confines of social expectation at 40.

I don't mean that when you're 40 you let yourself go, but rather bloom instead of withering.

I wish someone had told me how awesome this was going to be a couple of years ago when I was absolutely dreading the big four-oh. Turning thirty was awkward, but this, my friends, is a dream.

I have earned my frown lines and my laugh lines. I've earned the little furrow between my brows. I've even earned the stretch marks and the gravitational pull.

I have never been happier in my life. It's almost like getting to start something new!

The only thing I could wish for when I blow out all those candles is that I don't singe my eyebrows trying to snuff them out! I truly have everything else in the world a gal could want.

The Fish Whisperer

Life is not dull here. It's certainly slowed down with gas prices as high as they are! Instead of ranting about environmental hostage-ism, I thought I'd share with you what a person who still believes that the word 'green' is an adjective (not a verb) does for fun.

This afternoon, we went to feed the fish in the energy-sapping heat and snap a few pictures. Word has made it around the pond that we're feeding on the south-west corner, and they're showing up in droves.

We bring a bag of generic cheese puffs and a bit of dog food. These little fish are like starving piranhas. There is, however, a mean bass that is trying to take advantage of feeding time to eat the little fish.

All I have to do is stand at the edge of the bank and call them. It's kind of scary. Hear the Twilight Zone theme?

Here's a few shots of what greeted us today (and every day):

(the greeting)

(baby catfish has a snack)

(the catfish like the dog food)

On our way back from the pond, I told Honey I was going to go wild bunny hunting. We have at least a dozen or more bunnies in the yard at any one time. The baby bunnies like to play, and I was fortunate enough to catch a few shots of them playing.

(the bunny hop)

(leapfrog!)

One little wild bunny posed for me:

(cheese!)

(nosy!)

(this would not be cute if it were a garden)

I finally got bored (and hot) and left. Tomorrow, I'll teach the fat beagle to stay out of the cat food and stay off the bed....