Of Outhouses, Head Sniffing and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

Evil Eye Protection. Wooo-OOOO-oooo-Woooo! (That was my creepy music imitation)
Oh. My. Lord. I'm so glad it's Friday. This has been the crappiest week. Sleep has been hard to come by, giving me a serious case of the Bitchy McCrankypants with a side order of the PoorPitifulMe Boohoos.

I can not WAIT to sleep in the morning. You have NO idea.

When I DID sleep I had weird dreams about Ma and T.A.dying with T.A.'s spirit coming back to help me with Ma's arrangements.

There's a mood killer for ya right there.

The lack of restful sleep is caused by a combination of things. T.A. comes in sometime in the middle of the night, which doesn't wake me up, but it does wake Ayla, the mule headed hair beast. Ayla feels that she must alert me to T.A.'s arrival. Like it's her JOB. I guess it's the protective Great Pyrenees in her, warning the flock.. or something.

She's getting better. I can get her to shut the hell up calm down and go back to sleep, where as before she would try to take the bedroom door off it's hinges if I didn't let her out to go sniff T.A.'s head.

That's right. My dog is a 3 a.m. head sniffer. Fix THAT Cesar Milan.

Sometimes T.A. tells me she won't be home, but then she comes home and I hear her and think it's Ma attempting an escape, so I get up. Occasionally I hear the pop-crack of Sammy's arthritis (the Boston Baked Beagle) as he wanders up and down the hall and think it's the creaking of Ma's walker.

I try to ignore these things and go back to sleep, but the last time I did that I got up the next morning to find an assortment of grilled cheese and egg sandwiches in the fridge that Ma had been up cooking in the middle of the night. Apparently the man who was working on things in her bedroom was hungry, but he kept changing his mind about what he wanted.

I now remove the knobs off the stove before I go to bed each night.

All these issues will be solved if and when I find a camper to park in the yard. I've lowered my standards considerably. I've gone from 15K 5th wheels with super slides and restored Airstreams to $2200 1989 models.

I'm still not sure about the sewage deal. I might resort to peeing in the bushes. At this point, indoor plumbing isn't a deal breaker. As a matter of fact, there's still a hole in the ground on the embankment behind the house where Nanny's outhouse was.

Maybe I'll just get one of my own. (An actual outhouse, but not Nanny's actual outhouse.) 

Who am I kidding? I won't even use a gas station potty if it looks the least bit questionable. The rest of me might be gradually becoming full fledged hillbilly, but my tushie remains high fallootin' citified.

In other news.. Bossholio is off today, so I'm unsupervised and Lulu used a vacation day. I'm all alone in the back end of the office and apparently we've had a phone call from a disgruntled former employee. The few of us who are here are half afraid someone is going to show up with an Uzi any minute.


Anywho... I'm ready for the weekend. I'll probably work on the yard some, make stuff, hopefully sell stuff and for the luvagawd SLEEP.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!


kenju said...

I hope Ma doesn't figure out how to use pliers or a locking wrench to turn the stove on at night.

BetteJo said...

Melatonin. Helps me - since I can't afford Ambien and my late night online shopping adventures anymore.