Going Bump in the Night

Scenes from our walk around town Tuesday. More on Flickr.

I was startled awake at 2 yesterday morning to find Ayla standing over me, barking that shrill puppy bark inches from my face, as has become the habit in my house for the past week or so. I have no idea what happens at 2 am that gets her all keyed up, but you could set a clock by it. I usually lay there and try to reason with her, which makes about as much sense as trying to strike up a bargain with a toddler who won't go to sleep, then give up and just put her outside. She looks at me all hurt and sulks over to her dog house where she flops down and passes out, then I go back to bed and mentally kick myself for being such a sucky fur mom.

But this time, as I pleaded with her to shoosh and go back to sleep, just about to give up and walk her to the back door, the power flickered. She froze. Then, it went out.

"Woof?"

She slowly climbed onto the foot of the bed, stretched out and rested her head on her paws.

"woof."

She didn't make another sound.

I got up around 4ish, which freaks me out because I read once a long time ago that 4am is the "hour of the wolf," when they howl and bay at the moon and that more people die in their sleep at 4am than any other hour of the day.

I always seem to wake up at 4am.

Anywho... I got up and found a candle and a lighter, so that I could find the flashlights and hand them out to Ma and The Amazon, then used one to dig around for my cellphone before going back to bed. Festus called from The Asylum around 7:30 tell me to go back to sleep, no sense in coming in just to be sent back home.

I got a free day off. Yay.

Me and The Amazon took Ayla for a long walk, I took some pictures and played in some beads. The lights came back on around 6, just in time to fix dinner. It was the perfect day for the power to be out. Not too hot, nice cool breeze.

It was a nice day.

So I'm humping it double time on this Humpday. But I don't mind. I enjoyed the break.

Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!
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It Just Keeps Getting Better

I don't even know where to begin...

I guess we'll start with Friday. I'd been feeling a little crotchedy, compounded by the fact that EVERYONE either left early or took the whole dang day off from The Asylum, leaving me alone with Jabba the Engineer, whom I love to pieces but isn't worth a hill of beans when I need someone to watch the phones while I go pee or  need rescuing from disgruntled former employees who show up on four-wheelers wielding shot guns and wreaking of bargain basement beer.

Not that I'm paranoid or anything.

Anyway, it was a day of ticked off customers and angry phone calls, the kind of day that makes you want to crawl under your desk, curl up in the fetal position and whistle show tunes.

I was glad to get out of here and start my weekend. I had grand plans to track down some tires for Jolene, get some housework done and piddle around in some clay. At about 2 o'clock Saturday morning, it became apparent that there would be none of that taking place as I assumed the position and proceeded with, as Ma used to put it, "hugging John and screaming for Earl." The pukefest continued until daybreak. By then, I'd given up on going back to bed, setting up camp in the living room, closer to the fore mentioned John.

I can't blame this one on Mr. G. This latest little attack was kicking me much lower in the abdomen, near where about 15 years ago I had 2 feet of intestine ripped out, the result of a grapefruit sized blockage, leaving a scar to rival anything you'll see this Halloween and my navel in a permanent state of winking.

No lie, Ma used to threaten to show my belly to my trashy big boobed cousin with the lazy eye's youngin when she misbehaved.

I know, I know, my sexiness has once again left you in a mind altering fog of awe. Try to fight it. It'll be okay.

Of course, the pukefest is always followed by two days of that other unpleasant intestinal carnival, no longer hugging John, but perching atop him repeatedly.

So yeah. That was my weekend. I slept a lot in between.. ya know.. that other stuff. And? I showed up for work this morning, because I'm an idiot I rock that way.

But wait, there's more!

After I got to work this morning and fixed a cup of hot tea, because coffee just doesn't sound like a good idea right now, I get a text from The Amazon.

"Aunt Moses is going to try to get Nana to go to the hospital or the doctor because her craziness has apparently seeped out of the house."

It seems she's been calling assorted neighbors and family members yelling at them for not inviting her to imagined parties and telling everyone she's lazy.

Great.

That's my life at the moment. Updates to follow.

Later Taters!

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Bubbles, Jobs and Pupzilla Goes Camping

It's nice and cool in Frog Pond Holler this morning. Bossholio isn't here, so I took my coffee and snuck outside for a little fresh mountain air earlier. It was nice. I wanted to kick off my shoes and go frolicking willy nilly through the kudzu.

But then I spotted the squished baby black snake someone flattened on their way in this morning. It sorta killed the urge.

Anywho...

Things here at The Asylum are sorta plugging right along. I spend a chunk of company time every day looking for a new job. I've given a lot of thought to how things have gone with Bossholio lately and considered the fact that I've not had a raise in a few years, never had a cost of living increase when the guys out in the plant get one every year, lost my little $50 bonus checks for "quality incentive" from our biggest customer (but the plant employees still get theirs,) stayed through cutbacks, worked my ass off for the man on 32 hours a week, put up with Bubbles' infantile bullcrap and put off taking any time off, trying to be a model employee, and in return? I get hauled in the office, insulted, embarrassed and threatened with firing.

All for a little over $20K a year.

Yeah. That's bullshit.

The challenge with finding a new job isn't my qualifications. It's finding one that isn't too far up the road. There are plenty in Big City that pay considerably more money for the same type of position but by the time I haul up there in Jolene, the cost of gas will eat me alive.

So I take my time and I look. Every day.

On a side note, I heard that Bubbles just got a new job down at the county social services department. That ought to be a hoot. She's so judgmental and gossipy, not to mention her flair for drama. I wonder if she'll be telling clients about her crotch rotting coochie crud the next time she goes to the doctor?

In the mean time, I've been spending some time each evening completing writing assignments for Textbroker. If you want to make a little extra money, I recommend it. When you start out, you get a standard low rating, which determines how much you get paid per word, but after completing five assignments you can be re-evaluated. Mine was just increased, so I'm making from $10-$15 an article. One a day, a few times a week, adds up over a month and it's enough to make a payment or two.

(Textbroker.com isn't paying or otherwise compensating me in any way for endorsing their service. I've just used it and I recommend it. So there. Put that in your bowl bong pipe and smoke it.)

I should probably get off my butt and get some work done. I'm so sleepy, after Pupzilla woke me up at 2:30 doing the "I'm-gonna-get-right-in-yo-face-and-bark-for-no-apparent-reason-for-five-whole-minutes-and-I-don't-care-if-you-have-a-headache" thing.

Pupzilla learned to commune with nature and get in touch with her ancestral heritage at approximately 2:35.

I love my dog ya'll. But damn. 90 pounds of angry toddler attitude at 2 am is a bit much. Or maybe it was teenage angst. What is the equivalent to human years for a 10 month old pup?

Oh, by the way. I discovered my new favorite radio station while escaping reality in Second Life last weekend. It's Radio Paradise and they play this weird mix of Johnny Cash, White Stripes, techno, new agey kinda Gypsy stuff.. it's awesometastic. You can check them out here:

(Again, this I'm just sharing my totally unbiased, uncompensated opinion. They rock. That is all.)

On that note, I'm gonna go do stuff. Ya'll enjoy your Friday. We'll talk again real soon. Later Taters!

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An Evening With the Blue Ridge Roller Girls

When I was a kid back in Norfolk, we used to watch the roller derby on Sunday afternoons. Back then, there wasn't any such thing as cable t.v. and satellite dishes were used to contact aliens, not watch "real" L.A. housewives discuss their Botox  on the boob tube. You got the three networks plus PBS and maybe a local station. Our channel 27 was owned and operated by a guy named Pat Robertson and would later become the  Christian Broadcast Network (CBN) with it's own ginormous university.

The roller derby we watched was sort of a mix between NASCAR and WWF rasslin'. There may have been rules, but to me it was just a bunch of scary looking women going around in circles, tossing each other over the rails.

The sport we watched Saturday night was slightly more civilized, but it wasn't without it's share of spills and thrills. The crowd was almost as much fun to watch at the actual derby, there were older people, kids and an unusually large number of women who prefer the company of other women, in an intimate kinda way.

*wink wink nudge nudge*

What I'm saying is, there were more spiked crew cuts in that room than in most sailor bars.

I think the best part of the whole evening was when the little old lady behind us found that she was one of the lucky few to find a special red ticket under her seat. She leaned forward to ask us what she was supposed to do with it. The Amazon and I gently explained where she needed to present her ticket to claim her prize. She wondered what it was for, she said she had a hard time understanding the announcer.

Neither of us had the nerve to tell her.

So we watched as she walked up to to the prize table and learned she'd just won a free piercing.

It was great.

There are a few pictures on flickr, they're not great cuz I didn't get up close and personal like I should have. Next time I'll get better ones.

Anywho, I gotta get my nose to the grindstone. Ya'll have a good one. Later Taters!!

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Drunk on Wheels

This was outside a store at the flea market. I wonder what they sold inside?

I'd like to start off today with a little TMI (because I know that deep down, you really do care.) I feel like crap on a cracker. Not even a good cracker. One of those reduced fat, salt free, off-brand saltines whos freshness date expired three weeks ago.

Yes, THAT craptacular.

Aunt Flo is leaving me presents. I'll leave it at that. If I WERE going to go into more detail, but I won't because I'm sensitive to your needs for delicacy, I'd have to use words like "chunky," "chum bucket" and reference the movie "Carrie." I'd probably have to mention crime scenes and Jack the Ripper as well, but like I said, I'll spare you.

Because I rock that way.

I'm so glad it's finally Friday. The week after a weeks vacation is officially the longest feckin' week EVAH! My plans for the weekend include some very light housework, maybe some clay-bead-jewelry dabbling and our adventure to the roller derby on Saturday night. Lord willin' there will be pictures. Apparently there's some kinda beer fest in Big City this weekend too, so I figure most of the folks at the derby will be in various stages of intoxication. I'm sure a grand time will be had by all.

Just in case, I'm gonna set up a PayPal account just for bail money donations.

Anywho...

I booked over 100K here at the Asylum yesterday, so I'm up to my armpits in paperwork. Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon!

Later Taters!

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Roller Derby, Decision Making and Pretty Baubles

So, The Amazon has decided that I need to go to the roller derby in Big City this weekend, because between the truck, the trailer and my job at the factory, my life isn't QUITE Jerry Springerlicious enough. I made her promise she'd never make me go to a tractor pull or a monster truck rally before I agreed. We've already made plans to attend some kinda yak hair and beaver fur festival or some crap in October.

I'm not sure how I feel about this sudden urge to mingle with other humans.. in public. Disaster is imminent.

In other news... I've made a decision. Yeah.. I know, alert the media. I've determined that if I put forth as much effort into finding a new job as I do trying to make extra side money, the side money probably wouldn't be necessary. Most people would probably figure this out right away, but let's face it, sometimes I a fry short of a Happy Meal. So.. the search continues, but with a little more urgency.

In other, other news... I've been dabbling a little making some jewelry, earrings mostly. Not to sell, just for myself. Most earrings I buy cause my earlobes to swell, throb, itch and turn flaming red, so I've done without for the most part. I can find "nickel free" but they're either too expensive or not very attractive, so I've been ordering parts off etsy.com and making my own. I'll share pictures soon. I may even incorporate my mad clay squishing skills and my bead wrangling expertise with my newly discovered passion for earring bits and bobs.

At least it keeps me out of trouble.

Well, sorta.

Anywho, ya'll have a helluva Humpday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Pussywillow Has a Nice Ring To It

There are a few more pictures from Friday on Flickr.

I wish I could say it's great to be back at work, but I'd hate to lie to ya'll. My inbox over floweth.

Being off for a week made me realize some things.

• I seriously hate my job. Well, Bossholio's attitude. I had the beginnings of a full blown anxiety attack Saturday, worrying over what kind of mood Himself would be in upon my return. Screw that bull mullarky.
• When ungoverned by a traditional work schedule, I can and will sleep till 11 a.m. every day.
• I have reached an age where hanging out at the Farmer's Market for an afternoon will leave me feeling giddy with excitement.
• I realized just how burnt out I was by about Wednesday, when total relaxation had a chance to take hold. I was so laid back, I considered buying a VW bus, painting it with flowers, quitting my job and changing my name to Pussywillow. 
• I miss making jewelry. I realized how much of my "free" time is spent trying to scrape together some extra money online here and there, leaving very little time for stuff I genuinely enjoy doing. I need to fix that.

Anywho..

I'd better get my butt in gear and make some money for The Man. Ya'll have a great one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Mahala's Words of Wisdom

If your mother (or wife or any female) is using her vacation to get on her hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor while you sit on the couch eating ice cream, it's probably not wise to critique her methods or tell her she'd better not stain your mop, the one that obviously hasn't graced a kitchen floor in a year.

Just sayin'...

Rodent Wrangling and the Farmer's Market

Sammy is not amused. This is his "Why is that hairy-bear-thing on our bed?" look. 

I have no idea what it's like in Frog Pond Holler today, because I'm not dressed and haven't even stuck my head out the door.

It's vacation people. Mahala style.

Since Friday, I helped The Amazon gather supplies for canning Kudzu jelly, which didn't set up, making it the most expensive six jars of non jelly ever created, cleaned out the rat infested kitchen drawers that we've kept closed for over a year because I'd have a fit of anxiety every time I thought about cleaning them out and hauled four bags of spray paint cans, bug spray and other caustic substances from under the kitchen sink.

We've been keeping all our silverware and cooking utensils in glasses on the counter since we had the rodent invasion a while back. Sunday,  I had to tackle rat turds big enough to have come out of Yoda, don rubber gloves, scrub everything with bleach then spray the drawers with Lysol, letting them air dry, suffered one hamster pox outbreak (who is allergic to rodents? Seriously, is there no end to my super freakiness?) and had to stop in the middle of everything to go shower. Then yesterday, under the sink, I used Ma's gripper grabby things to reach back in there. I kept expecting to find a snake curled up in the mess. I did find a partially decomposed rat in a state of eternal peace in a box with some canning jars.

There was a second hamster pox outbreak. I had to hit the Benadryl that time.

Once the under sink area was clean, I ran Ma's old, gargantuan dish drainer through the dishwasher then stashed it under the cabinet, replacing it with a tiny sink drainer. Now? ZOMG the counter space! I'm enjoying going in the kitchen and gazing upon the counters, reveling in their empty shininess.

The kitchen table is another story and today's project.

The Amazon is off on Friday and I've decided we'll go to the Farmer's Market in Big City. It's on a 36 acre site with gobs of vendors with food, crafts etc. I've never been, but I've always wanted to go. I know, it sounds like a boring thing to do, but some of my fondest memories were of the farmer's market back home. The Virginia Beach Farmer's Market had live bluegrass on Friday nights. My best friend Mary Lamm and I used to get all dolled up and go troll for manfolk when we were around 16 or 17. That was before we really embraced the joys of liquid refreshment of the alcoholic variety or the relaxing properties of a particular organic, home rolled cigarette.

Hanging at the Farmer's Market, unsupervised, was all the excitement I could handle.

Anywho...

So we're gonna go see what's there and maybe swing by the big flea market up the road. And yes, I do realize how horribly redneck that sounds. I fear I am assimilating in to the local population. I never thought a farmer's market would ever be my idea of an exciting vacation day trip.

I will need an urban intervention soon. The aroma of warm asphalt after the rain, the sound of traffic whizzing by my window and, if there's a God, a 7-11 Slurpee.

Now? There's a mound of assorted power tools, a homeless toaster oven and a pile of outdated coupons calling my name.

Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!!!

Kudzu Jelly

What's a Girl to Do?

You can feel a change in the air around the holler today. I woke up to a cool, crisp morning and I didn't have to threaten, bribe or otherwise cajole Pupzilla to go outside once she got a whiff of the outside air. Of course, next week when I'm off, it's supposed to be back up around 90°, but for now I'll take what I can get.

Bossholio has finally acknowledged that I'm taking off next week. He approved it a month ago, but has made no effort to find out what needs to be done or someone to do it until now.. the Thursday before. He must really think I don't do anything but sit over here with my thumb up my keister all day and while I don't wish for a catastrophe (because I'll just end up having to fix the mess when I get back) I do hope he gets a much needed rude awakening while I'm gone.

Me and The Amazon are hoping to take a day trip on her day off next week. So far, we've pondered:

• Cherokee, specifically Harrah's. More specifically, the bar at Harrah's.
• Digging for emeralds, which sounds awesome in theory, but I'm sure would result in my lying in the bottom of a pit somewhere with a muscle spasm. Writhing in pain, covered in dirt, mud and rocks is so not a good look for me. So maybe not.
• The archeological museum over in Johnson City. For the record, all the digging for bones, rocks and dirt wallering suggestions are actually my idea. I know, you're in awe of my geektardedness. Try to control yourselves.
• There's some kinda freakfest taking place downtown in Big City. I don't really know what it is, I just know there are people on unicycles with lots of piercings and dilated pupils. With juggling. And bellydancing. I think.

Truthfully, I'd be happy just hanging out at the mall, but if you don't have gobs of money to spend, it's not all that exciting. The weather will have a lot to do with our decision. I'm not digging in the dirt if it's 90°.

Anywho, I'm open to suggestions. I need one day to go scooter poopin', the rest of the week will be filled with hauling trash and scrubbing everything in sight. How do ya'll think I should spend a free day with The Amazon next week?

Ya'll take care. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!