Wednesday, June 30, 2010

So ... we are sitting around the table, enjoying a lovely meal of my creation; seafood chowder, BBQ steak, little tiny potatoes and green salad.

As per usual, my girls were rotating between fighting with each other, singing ... at the dinner table(which makes me batty), and complaining about what they were being forced to eat.

I happened to mention that I wanted to have a feed of lobster ... 

I haven't had any in a couple of years. This began a conversation about the cooking of zee lobster. Stretch had piped up to note that lobster was a divine treat sent from the gods ... or - "MMMMMMMMM - LAWWWBSSSTERRRRR" at which point, Shorty informed us that she respectfully disagreed ... or - "EEEEEWWWW GROSSSSSSS!!" She went on to say that we would only buy lobster from the grocery store that was already dead ... so that we were not being 'mean to Mother Nature'. I'm not really certain why I felt compelled to correct her ... I mean - why, Bambi ... why you say anything?

Alas, I am a stickler for correctness and  proceeded to explain that no, the lobsters had to be cooked while still alive (I know ... as I am typing it, I'm chastising myself for having said this to a five year old that is teetering on vegetarianism as it is).

Being the sort of child that Shorty is, she doesn't miss a beat. She looks across the table at me and says with a most convincingly emphatic tone: "Yeah, but they only do that to the old granny lobsters that won't die, right?"

This kid cracks me up. My mom couldn't wait to tell the women with whom she works all about that one.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Friday, June 25, 2010

Mr Dragonfly

I have to share something. 

It won't change the world.

It won't cure any awful disease. 

It may not even provide a daily smile for any of you.

I need to share it just the same. Just to have put it in print somewhere other than on my heart.

I feel pretty lucky most of the time that I have that husband of mine in my life. I mean, he drives me batty some of the time, what with snoring loudly and keeping me awake ... and not refilling TP rolls or replenishing the molecular footprint of soap with a new bar. But when you break it down to brass tacks, I am pretty darned blessed all the way 'round.

I think in some dark (and no doubt, cobweb laden) recess of my wacky mind, that I am afraid to just be happy. It seems 'reedonkulous' to think (much less write) such a thing, but the evidence is fairly glaring. I mean, could it be that I am 'skairt' - right to my toenails that if I am outwardly happy, someone or thing will attempt to rectify that, post haste?


This is a truth that is a little ugly in the bright light of day.

I'm not diminishing the strain of the past several months, or weeks for that matter ... but we are okay. We're getting where we need to go. We've made it ... pretty much. Things should start to get easier fairly soon. Hubs and I are still tight. A few bruises, but no deep scars. 

So, why am I still so snarly all the time? I mean, I can rationalize with the best ... I spend all my energy at work trying to be pleasant around Narci and wading through the slops that have become my career, but that isn't really a viable excuse. Especially since I am taking measures to rectify that (more on that another time). I have been exceedingly tired of late and there is something amiss with my legs (yes I have a doctor appointment set up, but it takes 3 weeks to get in to see my doc) so ... I guess maybe that could account for some growliness - I'm sore and very tired, but I am not a very nice person lately ... at least not to him, or my kids.

I have found, upon close consideration, that I feel pretty blessed to be loved so well in spite of my shortcomings as a woman/wife/mother/human being ... but what I have learned most recently is that my husband loves me so well because of those very shortcomings that leave me so ashamed. He embraces every facet of my mind, body and soul ... and loves me for all the pieces that fit together to make me ~ me. I've never been loved by anyone (that didn't actually give birth to me) so unconditionally ... I have my doubts many people are.

Seems a compelling reason to "scratch my happy place and get glad". Thanks - I just really needed to get that off my chest.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Had to share this funny

A Cardiologist's Funeral
A very prestigious cardiologist died, and was given a very elaborate
funeral by the hospital he worked for most of his life... A huge
heart... covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service
as all the doctors from the hospital sat in awe. Following the eulogy,
the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside. The heart then closed,
sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever..

At that point, one of the mourners just -burst- into laughter. When all
eyes stared at him, he said, 'I am so sorry, I was just thinking of my
own funeral... I'm a gynecologist.

The priest fainted

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Love me some Kermit

Plus I was desperately trying to remember the words to this last night so I could sing my nightmare troubled child to sleep. An all time fav - for sure!

Friday, June 18, 2010

Seriously, Mother Nature - What Were You Thinking??

One of my most faviest of favorite pass times is sitting out on my deck on a warm summer's eve with my best guy and my hubs *snort* ... okay, but if we were being honest here ... my best guy is, in fact the Captain - so, ya know ... hubs is okay with that.

For as long as I can remember, I have derived a mystical inner peace from watching a hot summer day melt into night, inch by inch. I love the night - I always have. Hubs seems to share that love with me. He's a camper at heart. Sitting around a campfire, gazing out at universe full of sparkling stars ... oh, my heart sighs just imagining it (and I'm currently only 5 hours away from experiencing it tonight). It's one of our MANY spiritual connection points.

The house we bought 2 years ago (thus destroying our finances) overlooks an inlet of the bay of Fundy. We can also look out into more open ocean, simply by turning our heads to the left. The view from our back yard is breath taking, it truly is. Almost makes it worth all this pain ... almost - not quite. (We own just over 4 acres of land here ... and nevermind looking at the parts that need to be mowed!)

(Either way ... we are getting through it and I am determined this is gonna be our year.) So, we don't have a massive bug problem on our deck due to the breeze that comes in off the water (our tides are the fastest in the world... ) but in the evening, there is about a four hour span where the nippers and mosquitoes are a scourge on our persons. Our back deck is raised and covered. It is a perfect set up for making a screened in room. This has been our plan from the beginning, but we just haven't had the funds or the time to make it so. This year, we thought we'd just get some screen and improvise a make shift screen room. 

We picked up a replacement screen for a portable enclosure and added some nylon to the bottom (as it wasn't the requisite 10 feet) and hung it on rods from inside the roof structure. It doesn't keep everything out, but it's not bad. One inherent problem with such a set up is the need to tie the loose screen back to the posts so that it does not tear in the fairly breezy parts of the day. What this means is that come dusk when we are preparing ourselves for an evening of languishing on our patio - in bug free bliss ... whatever critters are lurking under furniture & such get trapped INSIDE said enclosure. 

Did you know that june bugs spend their day in what can only be referred to as a 'catatonic' state. I'm not sure if it is the emergence of the sun in the morning that turns them to stone, or what ... but the fuckers seem to have just 'dropped' in mid flight. WTF is the deal with these creepy, crispy denizens of the night anyway? I try not to be too much of a "girl" about bugs and such. I mean, I'm not really a big fan of spiders - in fact there was a time in my life I was so petrified of them, I would run shrieking from my home upon the discovery of an eight legged bringer of doom, and would not return until someone else removed the offending creature. But as I've aged and then with the addition of Stretch and subsequently, Shorty - I made the conscious effort to NOT pass along MY irrational fears to my offspring. This has worked relatively well for the most part.

I have to draw a broad line in the sand at June Bugs. Does anybody have the slightest clue what their purpose is here on Earth? Hm? I googled them. That didn't go a great long way to decreasing my dislike, let me just say. Did you know they're related to the scarab beetle ... yeah ... they are. Ewww. I would like to take a moment and remind you of the movie "The Mummy" and that is all I have to say about that!  Apparently, they are known in some circles as "cockchafers" yeah ... betcha all you big strong brutes out there are revising your condescending opinion of my innate fear of these sticky little nasties now, aren'tcha? Mmphm.

So, we are in our little dome of protection against the various heeby-jeeby producing vermin when the witching hour arrives ... or in this case, the rise of the previously catatonic june bugs. Sweet mother of Beezus and Ramona - these things just ... rise. Then suddenly, our 'dome' transforms into something more along the lines of:

Oh - the humanity!

It is at this point that the evening takes a left turn, as the occupants of the deck react - en masse. I begin to shriek while ducking to and fro with a beach towel or some such thing on my head, the dog begins to bark - hysterically, Hubs snaps to attention and starts trying to catch these disgustingly huge, hard, stupid, clumsy - yet oddly fast flying creatures, the bugs, themselves - excited by the movements and resulting flickering light effect are bouncing off everything in sight ... it's like a pong game gone terribly wrong ... and every now and then, my mom's cat springs forth from her hiding spot, leaping into the air, snagging herself a crispy, tasty treat ... which she will then spend the ensuing ten minutes devouring ... and it sounds as though she's eating rice cakes ... ewwww! 

It's not a pretty sight, people.

Last weekend, one of them dropped into MY DRINK!!! Ruined me for the rest of the night. *shudders*   

So, yeah ... I'm looking forward to my nice relaxing 45 minutes tonight before all hell breaks loose up in here.

Happy Friday, Bleeps!!

Like Mouse Trap on Roids...

Okay ... I totally lifted this from Eva Gallant ... you can go give her props over here if you like. But I simply had to share. Hope I'm forgiven.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Aw Shucks..

You bleeps are great ... and I am really happy to hear you guys still think I am entertaining. The reality is this: I wasn't being coy or fishing for praise ~ although I'll take it ... I mean what's an attention whore to do without praise? ~ but I was being serious.

I don't feel 'funny'. No, I don't mean I don't feel funny ... you see the dif? Work with me here ... 'cause let's face it - my life is so damned riveting we should all be so lucky as to sit down and pontificate over it endlessly - right? (Too bad - ya'll knew what you were signing on for ~ free therapy ... quit yer whining)

I find lately, I sit in front of a blank screen trying to remember something ... anything that is even remotely amusing to write about... with that hateful little blinking curser mocking me. Even when I do manage to burrow underneath all the monthly bill payments, useless work knowledge, school function days and times, cafeteria schedules, snack schedules, Seinfeld/Friends/Raymond reruns and extra curricular activities - and come up with something ... as soon as I start typing, it immediately starts to blow (...and for those of you taking umbrage with such a metaphor ... I mean the kind of blow that doesn't feel like a sneeze in your pants, only better - K?).

I am so fucking long winded. Shut up! Who just said: "well, D'UH"? You wanna piece a me??

I seem to have some burning desire to try and capture every little nuance of whatever asinine tale I am sharing ... why is that? I have started writing a number of posts that have never made it into the actual blog. Some of them because I have noticed I have started censoring my stuff - which is really stupid and I haven't a clue why I do that ... well perhaps that isn't entirely honest ... I want everyone to like me... dammit! But the resulting post - blows (please refer to the above explanation). Some of them because they get way outta hand and wordy - I know, right? There is stuff that is wordy enough to make me refrain from sharing ... frightening, no?

As an example, I have so much more to the story of Trigger and Jane ... it's good stuff, too ... like point and laugh stuff, but I churned out like eight paragraphs of crap that made ME want to skip to another post and I KNOW HOW FUNNY THIS SHIT IS. It's 'good times' funny. I mean I nearly had a coronary when I got the last bit of gossip from the resultant cackle emitted from my throat.

So, how do I simulate a drunken campfire story telling session when writing on a blog? OH MAH GAWD!! Wouldn't that be a great Meme? "Drunken Campfire Stories"? <--- that seriously just came to me. I couldn't participate, of course ... due to the fact that my WIND would blow the damned fire out ... but it's a cute idea.

My latest edition of "As the Worms Turn" requires some background ... should I make it a regular feature and work up slowly? Should I try and capture it in a point form situation? Or do I continue with the (lengthy) sardonic diatribe with which, I have fallen out of love?

I am schtuck. Which is imminently worse than being simply stuck, as you can see by the clever use of the 'ch' to emphasize the severity of stucktitude.

I leave it to you ... my lovelies, my bloggy conscience, you decide how best I can bore you into tears regale you with yet another sparkling facet of Danica Dragonfly's fairytale life.

I'll be here ~ waiting ... with baited breath. Wait ... does that mean I have to eat worms?? I'm not doing that again!

Friday, June 11, 2010

Bad Parenting 101

It's a nice family outing to go to the fair, don't you think...

Or perhaps some "just you and me" time at the local Wal-Mart...

Daddy always was a great role model for us girls...


Young entrepreneurs ... gotta love 'em!

Perhaps taking in the local town's parade ...

Maybe pass on a habit or two ...

Maybe take a little walk together ...

Perhaps a baking project ...


I think we've seen enough ... and I was just thinking to myself that humans should not procreate ... or at least most humans ... and then I saw this:

Even ducks? SRSLY, what has this world come to??