First, it's official. I have a garden. Well, I have some seeds in the dirt and it rained on it. Two frying pan sized patches of crab grass have re-emerged. There are still more rocks than dirt. The rows are cock-eyed. Maybe it's like cooking, the sadder it looks, the better it tastes?
Ma has decided that she was just pulling our leg when she said she wanted to take a tour of the Hee-Haw County nursing facility. For now, she's doing okay at home.In the meantime, I've been in contact with an attorney at he local free legal services agency and after a lot of lawyer-who's-a-drama-queen brouhaha over my leaving my work number as a contact (seriously, get the hell over yourself already) involving a nasty letter from Mr. Drama Llama himself, I'm patiently waiting for some pamphlets in the mail so that I can go over stuff with Ma and see what she wants to do.
Because that's what you get for legal advice from the freebie place. Pamphlets. But I am thankful they're there.
I recently had two sales, two days in a row over over at my Etsy shop. You would have thought I'd been named in Forbes as the most influential entrepreneur of the year by the way I felt. I'm still a little giddy. Now that I've got my seeds in the ground and I'm done tilling all the way to friggen CHINA maybe I can find time to work on that pile of sari fabric I got in from India a couple of weeks ago. There are pillow covers and tiny coin purses begging to be born.
Speaking of the shop, I ordered some toe ring sized memory wire in gold and silver.. for toe rings (duh,) but I'll only be experimenting with the gold. Why, you ask? Because SOMEONE in my house.. someone with fur and four legs, which doesn't narrow it down that much.. but anyway.. someone stole it and either carried it off to play with or ate it. It was either Kitty Kitty Two By Four or Pupzilla. Yoda can't reach the table and Sammy couldn't care less. Recently, Pupzilla ate my high dollar, super nail growth cuticle oil, woke me up at 3a.m. slinging my bill file thingie all over the bedroom in an effort to end it's life and later that same night, magically pulled a Houdini and got my bedroom door open, setting herself free for a night of partying with a bag of garbage all over the living room, then crawling in bed with Ma and passing out.
Ma said they wrestled for a half an hour before the beast finally agreed to give her back her little twin bed.
I am sorry I missed it. I would have taken video.
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook (and you're still reading this and aren't totally sick of me.. well thank you for that) then you know I faced down a snake the other day. Well.. I only saw it's back so "faced" isn't really the right word. Anywho.. the point is, I didn't puke or give up on going outside for the rest of the year as I have in the past. I'll admit, I did have to go in the house and get my nerves together, but then? I went back outside and had a nice talk with the little fella. I explained to him that if he left me alone, I'd leave him alone, but if he made any sudden moves in my direction... I was a whole lot bigger than he was and I had the tiller.. so.. he'd better act right.
I finished the tilling with my eyes closed... but I finished.
This may explain my crooked rows.
Here at The Asylum, Bossholio is waiting to take possession of his new company car. I wish I could report that I had found a spiritual place deep within myself that had lead me to be the bigger person and find the strength to congratulate him, but that would be bullchit. I'm still a little pissy over my raise. Not so much that I only got 1.5%, but because 2% is the limit AND I COULDN'T EVEN GET THAT MUCH. Oh and the having to wait another 2 years for another 1.5% just further gripes my ass.
But I'm not bitter. Much.
The weight loss thing is plodding right along. My life is filled with turkey wienies, veggie burgers, Wally World "lean cafe" meals and fat free cheese. I do weird shit like put unsweetened almond milk in my coffee and eat cottage cheese with pepper on it.
And I like it.
I haven't done any belly dance workouts lately, what with all the tilling, mowing and farming. I figure I'm getting enough exercise. Oddly, my wonky joints have only flared up a little and occasionally through all this. If I'd attempted to do all this a year ago, I'd be laid up on the couch for three days, unable to move after getting beat all over the yard by my little tiller.
By the way, the tiller? Thanks to Tiff and and some Facebook banter while taking a gardening break, the tiller has been named "Gumbeh." Now, whenever I hit a big patch of crabgrass I find myself smuttering.. as I wrestle my mighty little tiller through the muck.. "I'M GUMBEH DAMMIT!"
SNL.. it just isn't the same. Enjoy.