Need to Lighten My Mood

After a marathon night of heated discussion with the hubby, I decided to download the newest pictures of my babe. Who can resist smiling at that face??

What Happened to the AC?

So I get to work EARLY for a change today, only to find out that over the night, the AC has gone kaput. Right now it is registering 87 degrees F. in my office. Turns out, we will have to wait until this afternoon to even consider being seen by the repairmen. Why do I live in SC again??

My Husband's Dream Home

This, my friends, is a YURT. It is basically a tent on a platform with a large hole in the ceiling to vent smoke from a cozy fire. Hubby's dream vacation home would be a large yurt surrounded by little pod-like yurts as guest rooms on a random lot, far away in the mountains somewhere. I've said OK...just as long as I've got a bathroom that doesn't have a half-moon on the door and a stack of magazines/leaves on the roll.

Oh, lest I forget...I am to be the one to sew said yurt. Help?

States Rights, Marriage, and The Simpson

So, an episode of The Simpsons sparked a rather interesting discussion between myself and Gene last night. It began with a big Parental Warning before the episode aired. The warning stated that homosexual marriages were the topic of that particular episode; I found it rather interesting that that would constitute a parental warning, but whatever. For some reason I have it in my little head that the parents concerned with their children being exposed to 'alternative' lifestyles wouldn't let them watch something as risque as The Simpsons anyway. I digress. In this episode, Homer is ordained as a minister (a process that we actually got a giggle from since we both know an Atheist Jewish Baptist Minister who was ordained in a similar process) and goes about reeking havoc in Springfield marrying anyone and everyone. This sparked the discussion between Gene and myself. I feel that marriage is a religious term, a union blessed by a church or religion and one that is completely different than a civil union. I see no issue with a civil union between two same-sex partners. Because of my faith, I do not feel that a marriage is applicable between two same-sex partners. Now you may ask what is the difference between a marriage and a civil union to me and all I can quantifiably state is that one is blessed by a higher power and one is not. Simply a matter of religiosity. Both Gene and I feel that no one should be denied the civil liberties imparted upon heterosexual couples (insurance for partners, adoption status, tax exemption, etc.). So what would the solution be? To define the limits of a civil union and marriage? Gene has this idea of States Rights being completely un-regulated by a Federal government and taxpayers being able to 'vote with their feet'. If they don't like the laws in one state, move to another. He also thinks that the Federal government should only be responsible for maintaining the military. I'm not really sure where I stand on all of this...I do know if his ideal world were ever to happen, we would most assuredly be moving OUT of the bible belt!

The Search for the Great White Dress

Ok, admittedly, shopping for my sister's wedding dress wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Thank Goodness!! We spent longer in the car driving to Burlington, NC than we did in the actual shop. She came away with an awesome deal on an absolutely gorgeous dress. I only found a few things odd enough to comment on.

Did you know that children are absolutely forbidden in bridal shops?! Yes, even infants who can't possibly touch the pretty dresses encased in heavy plastic. I was rather upset when told this and almost asked about the few pregnant brides having to remove themselves from the premises since their children were past the magic red line. Thankfully, after one stern look from me, the assistant assured me since it was slow, the babe could stay with her grandma or myself while her aunt tried on dress (after dress, after dress, after dress...). One would think that if we were there to spend THAT much money, they would be a little more accommodating!

Speaking of the money of the dress...What on earth has possessed this culture to spend god-awful amounts of money on a dress that will be worn once for only a few hours?! Granted, the idea of being a princess for a day is a wonderful fantasy come true for many...But when you start thinking of this realistically, wouldn't the money be better spent on, say, a house payment? Or put into a savings account? Or, really, just about anything other than a DRESS?! Not to be completely hypocritical, I DID have the huge, standard-Southern wedding, but only after trying to convince the parental units that we would rather elope and take the cash. If Elene or any other daughters I may be blessed with finding partners, I will be most assuredly encouraging them to elope.

The Newest Gotta Have Item of the Season...

No, don't worry, this little critter isn't dead...it's just pretending! It turns out in the wonderful world of livestock oddities, there is a breed of Fainting Goats. When startled or scared, these little cuties will just freeze up and faint. I find this absolutely hilarious and a must have for our future hobby farm (since it looks like hubby will win the battle on that particular subject). Hey, the bees need a friend or two, right? And imagine the label possibilities for fainting goat cheese. Yummy!

We Have Teeth!

Just to show what the angel-babe has acomplished! There are 6 teeth in there, with 2 more on the way!

They Come in Threes...

So, this weekend was supposed to be a quasi-stressful one, filled with meeting new extended family members. Lets just say, it definitely started with a bang.

Friday afternoon, I leave work, marveling at my wicked maneuvering in the parking lot and somehow make it to the FIRST of the exiting line (we don't have a light and really do need one...Sitting at a stopsign 50 cars deep for 20 minutes every afternoon is NOT my idea of fun. Must have been an USC engineering student that cursed us with this). I make it onto the interstate in record time, heading to pick up miss Elene from her dad's office. Almost as soon as I exit onto the interstate, we come to a complete standstill. Seriously. No movement whatsoever, no wind even!! On the up-side, I managed to exit the interstate in about 15 minutes and take surface streets to the office. And, while waiting those 15 minutes met some really cool hippies from Maine that were traveling up and down the east coast. Hippies rule! So, I pick the babe up and head home only to find...Our door standing wide open. Ok, so being a country (naive) girl, I thought...hmmm, lets call Gene and find out if he left the door unlocked and the cat somehow managed to open the door and get inside (no, the cat doesn't have opposable thumbs, but I envisioned the bees had helped somehow). Nope, not the case. And a very irate husband now informs me to NOT enter the house, go next door to the neighbor and call the police before I enter. We do all of this, and mercifully, Elene falls asleep while we are waiting for the ETERNALLY SLOW police to show up. Now, I know they have a hard job, but damnit, when I need them, I need them NOW and a 30 minute wait is just too damn long. Before the cops make it to the house, Gene actually gets through 2 patients, leaves 2 at the office with the explanation that he will return in 10 minutes (one of the dear people actually volunteered to come with him) as we live all of 3 miles from his office. He makes it to the house and goes inside to make sure no one is still there, quasi-assesses the damage and then leaves for the awaiting patients. 5 minutes after he leaves, the cop FINALLY shows up. He seemed very reluctant to be at the house and much more interested in all the fun little codes his radio was hammering at him. I'm sure that all the other crimes were much more fascinating than our robbery, but I wanted his full attention. So, I managed to keep him at the house dusting things for half an hour...29 minutes longer than he had planned on staying, I am sure. But, hey, I had to wait half an hour on him, he could stay half an hour with me to make me feel a little less invaded (and, no, telling someone that they would more than likely never catch the people that did this was NOT good PR. Seriously, don't DO that!). So I get Elene off to bed for the night only an hour or so past her bedtime, and proceed to packing for the morning trip to the Mountains while cleaning off the really nasty black dust stuff used to search for fingerprints (we never did get a good one, no matter how many times/things I got him to dust). Although both our door and my father-in-law's door (who had nothing taken) were kicked in, we managed to salvage them for now with new locks and such. Thank goodness as the budget currently isn't set up to allow for two new steel doors!
The mountain folk turned out to be pretty darn nice, if a bit on the 'Rebel' side. Maybe its the culture up there, but the abundance of rebel flag t-shirts was a bit astonishing (especially the gal at the local grocery outlet that had on a rebel shirt and a button about the wonderful organic section of the store...I had to giggle about that one). OH, in addition to the matching family rebel t-shirts, chewing tobacco was prevalent as well! I have NEVER seen a young momma hold a 6 month old with one hand while managing to get a wad of chew in her mouth with the other hand. I was amazed at her agility! All in all, it was a good trip, got to meet some very interesting people, and no one seemed to want to kidnap me. I guess they had heard about our assassin bees.
So, we make it home Sunday afternoon and start putting the ransacked house back in order. Gene and a neighbor went through the neighborhood talking with other robbery victims (there have been several, come to find out) while I worked on cleaning the carpet and laundry. Around 8, Gene and I were working on a mental list of stolen items for the assessor when we hear a very loud bang. We really didn't think too much of it since Ft. Jackson is very close by and often emits such sounds. 15 minutes later, the nice neighbor comes by to tell us that a tree in our yard had just fallen, crushing our fence and his car. Nice.

This morning, I rush out the newly-equipped, recently-destroyed front door to the car only to find that my car absolutely refuses to start. I think it was punishing me for a weekend of being left behind. Moody Honda. It was feigning being out of gas, so after a quick refill from Gene's gas can (thanks honey for running to the gas station in your shorts), I finally make it to work.

Can I get a refund on my weekend??

All dressed up... 

My Darling, Well-Behaved Angel

Head-banging Angry Babe!!

I've been Questioned!

Thanks to Cannot be Trusted, for this fun little exercise.1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "Interview me." "Blow me" or "Eat me" are not acceptable substitutes.2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different. I'll post the questions in the comments section of this post.3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.Got it? You have to ASK to be interviewed, and I promise I will try and be clever.

These questions are from a spy among us (I've not figured out how to do the link thingy yet).

1) You've gone to visit the mormon side of the family, they've kidnapped you in the mountains, what do you say that convinces them to let you go?

I have a hive of 60,000 trained assisn bees at my home. They have been instructed to set forth and destroy should I not return within 48 hours of depature of said home. Are you prepared? Well, punk, are you?


2) Your bees have all escaped, what's your next insect pet?

Since I'd miss all the buzzing, I'd have to go with one of the Homoptera family...cicadas are always fun! Just think of the amplified sounds of 60,000 cicadas...my neighbors would LOVE me!

3) Your last meal must be prepared using only a bic and a butter knife, what do you make?

the most obvious answer here is a piece of honeycomb with honey intact! the bic used to smoke the bee's away, the knife to cut out the comb!


4) You must marry another quack, what kind will it be this time?

Disclaimer first...honey, if you are reading this, we all know that you are NOT a quack. Now, back to the question...I'd have to go with a Vitamen pusher. That seems the most benign answer.

5) Would you rather have 14 beautiful well-behaved children, or one bad ugly one?

14 kids, beautiful, ugly, well-behaved, devils, whatever! The more the merrier...and variety is the spice of life. But once you get to know me, you'll understand that well-behaved is a characteristic doomed to be remissive amongst my progeny.

I finally figured out the picture thingy!!

Ok, more to come at a later date...but let this be evidence to all that I have overcome my shyness around the computer and now dominate (at least till the next meltdown). Eesh, I really suck at blogging. Enjoy the baby toes.


baptismal baby feet...