While playing with Leggos at the dining room table the natural light coming from the large window faded. Fox exclaimed, "got dark!". I asked him why it got darker, and he replied, "sun went behind cloud".
Surprised and impressed that he had retained one of my ramblings, I joyously praised him.
I decided to gauge exactly how much info on the subject he had retained and asked, "what are clouds made of?"
Without hesitation Fox proclaimed, "clouds made of beef".
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
10/22/2008 Ice Pack for President
My 2 year old son has finally started paying off in the entertainment department. For the longest time babies just want to eat, sleep, get a new diaper, pitch a fit then start over again, but my son has graduated to the next level of rudimentary banter.
Each day at least one hilarious thing comes out of his mouth. I don't want to turn him into a laugh-o-meter, Bobby Hill style Ham, but I usually allow myself an initial ten minutes laughing at the remark with Fox, then secretly erupt in laughter through out the remainder of that day. Last week after staring at his oatmeal for twenty minutes, I asked him to hurry and finish up so we could go outside. He said "no! I can't" and wrinkled his nose while covering his eyes as if it would make the dish cease to exist. I asked him why he didn't want to eat something he normally asked for seconds of, and he said "Cause, cause it's broken!"
"The oatmeals broken?", I confirmed, and Fox nodded his head with a overly expressed look of disappointment on his face.
A few days later he was in his high chair screaming "EAT!! EAT!!" and I asked him what he wanted. He looked around for clues, and then said "food". I asked him how a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sounded and he said "uh huh! Birthday cake sandwich!" Although it was a delicious idea, I decided to just put extra jelly on his PB&J.
I have noticed that whenever we are around dogs, Fox usually ends up telling them that they are "yucky", and pointing at them while saying "shoo!". I thought it was strange only because Fox doesn't voice disgust at much of anything other than the toilet or the diaper bin. Otherwise I agree with his general assessment of dogs. Last week while spending time with my mom and her troop of shizus, Fox began pointing and saying "yucky, poo-poo! Yuk!". The dog thought Fox wanted to play so he rolled over exposing his belly and testicles. Fox screamed and pointed towards the dog's black balls and shouted "POO_POO YUCKY! POO_POO! ICK!" So Fox thinks that all non-neutered male dogs have poop attached to them.
I also think that it is funny that no matter what is upsetting Fox, an ice pack seems to help. After I sneakily took his "special" blankie and put it into the wash for the first time in two months, Fox began looking around in all the usual places. Under his bed, in the bathroom floor, between the fridge and the wall, under the couch cushions.... When the blankie didn't turn up he became agitated and started whining. I explained that I had put the blanket into the washing machine and that after drying it would return it to his embrace. He continued whining, so I opened the washing machine to let him see his blanket submerged in water, sloshing around. For some reason this image upset Fox beyond explanation and it propelled him into a twenty minute hysterical fit. I tried all of my normal techniques without success, and finally asked him what would make him feel better.
"ICEPACK!" He screamed with renewed disdain.
A few days ago I was watching the presidential debate while Fox sat in the floor "playing cars". Whenever the candidates are on TV or their pictures appear on the newspaper Fox points and exclaims "Obamacain!"
He seems to think that whenever you see those two guys together it is called an Obamacain. He started watching the speech and paying attention to the shifts in conversation. After it was over I asked Fox which candidate he thought would make the nation better; Obama or McCain?
He looked around the room and smiled as he answered in a quiet tone; "ice pack".
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
11/4/2008 Modern Love Hard Living
While I was hanging the laundry out to dry my neighbor, Lee came over and visited me today. He told me about why I didn't see him yesterday and it was a pretty good story.
He said he awoke when someone knocked on his door at 10:30am. It was his friend, Craig's wife who wanted to ask a favor. Craig was in jail. She needed Lee to accompany her to pick him up.
Lee asked why the hell she didn't just go down there herself seeing as it was so early in the morning and he hadn't had his coffee yet. She said that
He said he awoke when someone knocked on his door at 10:30am. It was his friend, Craig's wife who wanted to ask a favor. Craig was in jail. She needed Lee to accompany her to pick him up.
Lee asked why the hell she didn't just go down there herself seeing as it was so early in the morning and he hadn't had his coffee yet. She said that
1. they wouldn't accept her bail seeing that he was in jail due to a domestic abuse charge by her, PLUS she already had a restraining order against him. and
2. in order to pick up a person from jail you had to have a valid drivers license. She did not. But she drove up in a car. Lee has no car, but has a valid drivers license.
He agreed and went to the police station and filled out the necessary paperwork to release Craig. Four hours later he was released on bail.
After they left they they went to some bar in town that gives you free wings as long as you are drinking beer, and they stayed there till the place closed. They ate chicken wings for almost nine hours!
I was so jealous.
Ohyeah. This weekend our friends were clearing out their storage stuff and in it was a round rug that said 'Oval Office' on and looked something like the emblem in the center of this
He really liked it and he hung it on his front door. I will definitely take a picture of it.
11/1/2008 Yesterday with Lee
After four days passed without seeing hide nor hair of my otherwise "in your face" neighbor Lee, I became concerned that he was in some sort of trouble. Fox and I went outside for our morning frolic and after digging in the sandbox for thirty or so minutes, we drifted into Lee's yard and made lots of noise.
Within thirty seconds Lee appeared in the doorway looking puffy and grey.
I told him that we wondered where he had been and if he was sick, and he said "Naw, I ain't been sick or nuthin. I've jus got heartache cuz a this girl a-mistreatin her little 10 year old son here at my house"
I have heard about this woman before.
Her son was born with some sort of thrush condition and was unable to nurse. Lee said he went fifteen days without breast feeding after he was born, then finally he took the baby to his grandmother who diagnosed the problem and immediately corrected it. That's the history from Lee's end.
So now, ten years later the baby has grown into a boy and the mother accepts no responsibility for the child's behavior or discipline. She verbally and physically abuses him and pushes him around, ignores him by shutting him up in his room with a video game console. Worst of all, she is trying to have the child diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder so she can involve him in an experimental drug study entitling her to compensation for his participation.
Lee has to censor the mother every time she comes by his house (to smoke or drink moonshine) by ordering her to stop abusing her son on the grounds that "I [Lee] don't allow NO fightin in my house cuz it's a sacred place"
That is some depressing stuff to be around! I completely understand why he feels so bad! He said he wanted to stop seeing this woman and forbid her from coming to his house, but he can't bear the thought of not being able to see the kid.
Fox and I sat and drank coffee with Lee for a half hour or so while discussing this issue (I drank coffee. Fox did not) and the conversation moved to happier topics. Lee was happy that his check was "a-comin tomorrow", and in an attempt to relate I added "Yeah- it's a good thing we get paid tomorrow too! We're nearly broke at the end of the month"
Although this statement was fundamentally true it was unnecessarily dramatic. We have a tight budget with little deviation. At the end of the month we sometimes have less that $100 in the checking account, but we are prepared and aware, so it's no big deal. No one has starved yet.
Lee proceeded to pull boxes of cereal and crackers from his cupboard and pile them into a plastic bag. He handed them to me and said "Lass month I got all this buy one get one free an now I'm sick of um so you take em"
The more I refused the more desperate Lee perceived me as. Finally he said "Girl, jus take em! I ain't gonna eat em!"
All of the boxes were unopened and had sharp corners, so I took them home, but before I left Lee exclaimed "Oh Yeah! An I got somethin else for ya!"
He reached in the freezer and pulled out a mason jar of amber tinted moonshine, opened it and poured two little shots. Then he poured half of it into a Dr. Enough bottle and handed it to me along with the shot.
I glanced at the digital clock on Lee's microwave and it was 10:42am. He handed me the big shot and I insisted we trade. I drank it and Lee explained; "this is scotch flavored moonshine. When they make it they use a certain kinda bark at the end to give it the flavor an color"
I agreed that it was very scotchy and that it would be perfect with a smoke, then adjourned across the street to my yard.
About thirty minutes later as I was giving Fox a snack Lee knocked on the door. He held out a white envelope, shoving it into my hand and mumbling something. I asked him what it was and he said "jus read it!!"
I came back inside and emptied the contents of the envelop onto the table. There was a rubber change purse crammed full of coins, mostly pennies, a note, five rolled tobacco cigarettes, and a government issue "food stamps" debit card.
The letter instructed me to go to the store, purchase a bag of potatoes using the debit card which held a balance of $2.75, the change which totaled around 85 cents, and my own money, then we would "split the spuds".
I suddenly realized that I was on the receiving end of Lee's charity.
I loaded Fox up and headed across the street to see if Lee wanted to ride to the store and get some potatoes.
We drove to the Grocery Outlet and bought a bag of potatoes which I contributed $2.05 towards. As soon as we got back Lee split them into two bags and told me that he was going to cook supper for Jason, Fox and I. I agreed and asked what I could do.
About 40 minutes later Lee showed up with a bowl of home fries wrapped in newspaper. He said "eat some now an save the rest for supper"
As soon as Jason got home from work Lee started bringing food over to my table including salmon cakes, fried okra, and cornbread. It was really good and I was happy not to have to cook supper.
After we ate Lee cleared the table of his pots and dishes, went home and we got Fox to bed. As Jason and I settled in to watch our new favorite show, Fringe, Lee knocked on the door. He wanted Jason to find out if "that spray chemical stuff, Free Breeze wuz on the stock market"
Neither of us had ever heard of a company called Free Breeze, so we just started googling.
Lee explained "it's like an air freshener spray, an they make candles, too"
"Febreeze!" I decoded.
"Yeah! That's whut I said" hollered Lee.
I said "I'm sure it's owned by Johnson Wax or Proctor and Gamble if you look on the stocks"
Shaking his head widely from left to right, Lee mouthed the word "ME" while pointing at himself repeatedly.
"I own that chemical! I bought it in Arizona right after them chemists made it on accident! I know it's doing real good cuz there's a commercial on for it almost every break!"
Jason and I didn't dare look at each other for fear of an explosion of laughter. Jason fiddled around a little bit more on the internet and then lamented that he wasn't able to get any stock information. Our dumb TV show was on and we were really trying to pay attention to it rather than focus on the ridiculousness Lee was talking.
As soon as Lee left we decided to try and diagnose Lee's condition using Wikipedia. The best explanation is he is suffers from psychosis with periods of mania.
Within thirty seconds Lee appeared in the doorway looking puffy and grey.
I told him that we wondered where he had been and if he was sick, and he said "Naw, I ain't been sick or nuthin. I've jus got heartache cuz a this girl a-mistreatin her little 10 year old son here at my house"
I have heard about this woman before.
Her son was born with some sort of thrush condition and was unable to nurse. Lee said he went fifteen days without breast feeding after he was born, then finally he took the baby to his grandmother who diagnosed the problem and immediately corrected it. That's the history from Lee's end.
So now, ten years later the baby has grown into a boy and the mother accepts no responsibility for the child's behavior or discipline. She verbally and physically abuses him and pushes him around, ignores him by shutting him up in his room with a video game console. Worst of all, she is trying to have the child diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder so she can involve him in an experimental drug study entitling her to compensation for his participation.
Lee has to censor the mother every time she comes by his house (to smoke or drink moonshine) by ordering her to stop abusing her son on the grounds that "I [Lee] don't allow NO fightin in my house cuz it's a sacred place"
That is some depressing stuff to be around! I completely understand why he feels so bad! He said he wanted to stop seeing this woman and forbid her from coming to his house, but he can't bear the thought of not being able to see the kid.
Fox and I sat and drank coffee with Lee for a half hour or so while discussing this issue (I drank coffee. Fox did not) and the conversation moved to happier topics. Lee was happy that his check was "a-comin tomorrow", and in an attempt to relate I added "Yeah- it's a good thing we get paid tomorrow too! We're nearly broke at the end of the month"
Although this statement was fundamentally true it was unnecessarily dramatic. We have a tight budget with little deviation. At the end of the month we sometimes have less that $100 in the checking account, but we are prepared and aware, so it's no big deal. No one has starved yet.
Lee proceeded to pull boxes of cereal and crackers from his cupboard and pile them into a plastic bag. He handed them to me and said "Lass month I got all this buy one get one free an now I'm sick of um so you take em"
The more I refused the more desperate Lee perceived me as. Finally he said "Girl, jus take em! I ain't gonna eat em!"
All of the boxes were unopened and had sharp corners, so I took them home, but before I left Lee exclaimed "Oh Yeah! An I got somethin else for ya!"
He reached in the freezer and pulled out a mason jar of amber tinted moonshine, opened it and poured two little shots. Then he poured half of it into a Dr. Enough bottle and handed it to me along with the shot.
I glanced at the digital clock on Lee's microwave and it was 10:42am. He handed me the big shot and I insisted we trade. I drank it and Lee explained; "this is scotch flavored moonshine. When they make it they use a certain kinda bark at the end to give it the flavor an color"
I agreed that it was very scotchy and that it would be perfect with a smoke, then adjourned across the street to my yard.
About thirty minutes later as I was giving Fox a snack Lee knocked on the door. He held out a white envelope, shoving it into my hand and mumbling something. I asked him what it was and he said "jus read it!!"
I came back inside and emptied the contents of the envelop onto the table. There was a rubber change purse crammed full of coins, mostly pennies, a note, five rolled tobacco cigarettes, and a government issue "food stamps" debit card.
The letter instructed me to go to the store, purchase a bag of potatoes using the debit card which held a balance of $2.75, the change which totaled around 85 cents, and my own money, then we would "split the spuds".
I suddenly realized that I was on the receiving end of Lee's charity.
I loaded Fox up and headed across the street to see if Lee wanted to ride to the store and get some potatoes.
We drove to the Grocery Outlet and bought a bag of potatoes which I contributed $2.05 towards. As soon as we got back Lee split them into two bags and told me that he was going to cook supper for Jason, Fox and I. I agreed and asked what I could do.
About 40 minutes later Lee showed up with a bowl of home fries wrapped in newspaper. He said "eat some now an save the rest for supper"
As soon as Jason got home from work Lee started bringing food over to my table including salmon cakes, fried okra, and cornbread. It was really good and I was happy not to have to cook supper.
After we ate Lee cleared the table of his pots and dishes, went home and we got Fox to bed. As Jason and I settled in to watch our new favorite show, Fringe, Lee knocked on the door. He wanted Jason to find out if "that spray chemical stuff, Free Breeze wuz on the stock market"
Neither of us had ever heard of a company called Free Breeze, so we just started googling.
Lee explained "it's like an air freshener spray, an they make candles, too"
"Febreeze!" I decoded.
"Yeah! That's whut I said" hollered Lee.
I said "I'm sure it's owned by Johnson Wax or Proctor and Gamble if you look on the stocks"
Shaking his head widely from left to right, Lee mouthed the word "ME" while pointing at himself repeatedly.
"I own that chemical! I bought it in Arizona right after them chemists made it on accident! I know it's doing real good cuz there's a commercial on for it almost every break!"
Jason and I didn't dare look at each other for fear of an explosion of laughter. Jason fiddled around a little bit more on the internet and then lamented that he wasn't able to get any stock information. Our dumb TV show was on and we were really trying to pay attention to it rather than focus on the ridiculousness Lee was talking.
As soon as Lee left we decided to try and diagnose Lee's condition using Wikipedia. The best explanation is he is suffers from psychosis with periods of mania.
10/24/2008 Kids Play
Fox and I watch Sesame Street every weekday morning before lunch. Today during "Elmo's World" something struck me as odd; the "Mr. Noodle" character behaves like a drunken bum. For those of you who haven't watched Sesame Street in a couple of decades, Elmo is the little red monster with an annoying laugh who has his own segment on Sesame Street called "Elmo's World". Mr. Noodle is a character on "Elmo's World" who is a real guy in an ill-fitting suit who Elmo asks questions about simple ideas and procedures. He answers non-verbally in dance or pantomime and always looks unkempt, as if he has just awoken from sleeping off a bender.
There are actually two Mr Noodles. There is the original Mr. Noodle (who sorta resembles my ex boyfriend, Richard) and his brother Mr Noodle who most resembles a degenerate alcoholic bum. That French prisoner with the pet mouse from "The Green Mile" also comes to mind.
After watching the segment for the millionth time I have decided that the inspiration for the Mr Noodle character (especially the brother of Mr Noodle, Mr Noodle) is based on a homeless, liquor hound who drinks anything he can get his hands on and begs for money outside of the Tomato Head cafe.
There are actually two Mr Noodles. There is the original Mr. Noodle (who sorta resembles my ex boyfriend, Richard) and his brother Mr Noodle who most resembles a degenerate alcoholic bum. That French prisoner with the pet mouse from "The Green Mile" also comes to mind.
After watching the segment for the millionth time I have decided that the inspiration for the Mr Noodle character (especially the brother of Mr Noodle, Mr Noodle) is based on a homeless, liquor hound who drinks anything he can get his hands on and begs for money outside of the Tomato Head cafe.
10.15.2008 Leather and Lace
Friday night Jason, Fox and I went to a "leather and lace" party hosted by our good friend Jon. The party was a "beginning of the year get-to-know-one-another" affair for his department, and everyone came dressed in a trashy rainbow of denim, pleather and fringe. Raucous the party was, and everyone got into the trashy spirit.
After reviewing my wardrobe I decided on my brown leather pants and a long, blondish wig, but couldn't find an appropriate shirt for the occasion. Something trashy, but attempting to be both sexy and tough looking. I thought about a wife-beater, but it seemed too typical, gangster and costumey, and I also thought about a see-through lacey tank top, but even it seemed too classy. I ended up making a denim and lace corset shirt with pink ribbon laces.
After reviewing my wardrobe I decided on my brown leather pants and a long, blondish wig, but couldn't find an appropriate shirt for the occasion. Something trashy, but attempting to be both sexy and tough looking. I thought about a wife-beater, but it seemed too typical, gangster and costumey, and I also thought about a see-through lacey tank top, but even it seemed too classy. I ended up making a denim and lace corset shirt with pink ribbon laces.
front: 
back: 
It was god-awful with an overall look of a 1992 west Asheville style night on the town involving drinks at Cowboys Night Life followed by line dancing. It was the outfit of a girl torn between two lifestyles. Basically I thought of all my elementary school friend's older sisters and tried to replicate their looks and facial expressions. I even bought a six pack of Bud Ice to complete the look.
Also integrated into the outfit was a brand new "beer opener" belt buckle from my friend Sonja, and a pair of pony fur boots from Hilary.
Getting ready for the party was so much fun. I can't wait for Halloween!
10/11/2008 Good New Wave Morning
French New wave looked like this:
Australian New wave looked like this:
American New wave looked like this:
British New wave looked like this:
and this
Japanese New wave:
This is what the "New Wave" of music was in Germany. I am still bitterly confused. Surely there was a mistranslation involved.
Leave it to the Germans...
8/29/2008 Assault, Dissoultion, retreat
The night before last Jason and his friends were having practice in our back room in preparation for a wedding gig this weekend when Lee's lumbering frame appeared in the back door jamb. Our back room is perpetually under construction and the back door leading outside from this forbidden room is crumbling and totally unsafe for passage. But there he was with a mason jar of moonshine in one hand and a one hitter in the other. The song came to a close, and Lee offered his usual verbal greeting, then his substance offering of pot and booze. Some obliged and some didn't, and then he turned to me and screamed a birthday wish at me, then shoved a mysterious quart-sized jar of a brownish liquid in my hand. I thanked him and asked how he was doing, and he proceeded to pass around a People magazine opened to an ad for Oral-B toddler toothpaste with a Thomas the Train motif.
As I examined the picture Lee victoriously told me that that was "one uh his boys by that girl", and explained that "sheeze got em a workin for thu toothpastes company AN for that puppet-train company, too so eeze a-gettin paid two times!"
I choked back an infinite geyser of laughter and snide comments and said, "Cute! I think he has your brow"
Lee said "WELL HELL YEAH he does! He looks jus like me when I wuz that size! Ain't he clean?! That woman sure keeps em clean. I LIKE that."
Again, I held back my inner jerk and commented on the child's cleanliness, unsure of how long I was going to be able to maintain the charade.
This Lee/Jill dialog, by the way, was at full, party time volume, and Lee was gesturing and engaging the others by passing the magazine around, fishing for affirmation which no one else was giving. This situation comes rather frequently, I have noticed. Me and Lee. Somehow I am there listening to his stories about test tube babies, beating up the president, lassoing a jet and riding it to the moon etc... And I am forced by my own social structure to respond! I can't just stand there. I can't ignore him! I can't change the subject! It is like I am imprisoned by thick walls of lies reinforced by more lies. I find myself immersed in Lee's fantasy to an uncomfortable degree.
So Lee was demanding total attention of every person in the room, and when they started practicing again, Lee started talking louder. Jason's cousin Jon left, and as soon as he did I picked up the bass and began playing just to remove myself from the "Lee camp".
He persisted by standing in between everyone and talking, holding the magazine in front of everyone's faces, and trying to lure them individually with topics Lee knew would interest them. It was god-awful. Somehow I elevated myself to a far away place and drowned out the sound of his voice with my own god-awful bass picking.
I finally opened my eyes to see that Lee had leaned the magazine ad on the window sill and was in a lunge formation with his face nearly touching the page. He was like that for at least 30 seconds.
Soon afterwards he left, presumably because no one wanted to listen to him talking about somebody else's baby in a magazine ad. It was awful.
The other day my friend Audry came over to pick me up and Lee intersected us at the mailbox, and started talking about his desire to "get outta here an do sum travilin!"
Already in the car and buckled in, I said "That's a good idea, Lee. There's no reason why you shouldn't travel since you live alone. I would if I were you."
Then Lee said "Hell Jill, I can't take you too. I mean, you're married an you got that kid an all! I can't take you with me! You're cute an all but I jus can't!"
He walked backwards towards his house with a pained look on his face, maintaining semi-eye contact and mumbling. As soon as we pulled out Audry started with the questions.
As I examined the picture Lee victoriously told me that that was "one uh his boys by that girl", and explained that "sheeze got em a workin for thu toothpastes company AN for that puppet-train company, too so eeze a-gettin paid two times!"
I choked back an infinite geyser of laughter and snide comments and said, "Cute! I think he has your brow"
Lee said "WELL HELL YEAH he does! He looks jus like me when I wuz that size! Ain't he clean?! That woman sure keeps em clean. I LIKE that."
Again, I held back my inner jerk and commented on the child's cleanliness, unsure of how long I was going to be able to maintain the charade.
This Lee/Jill dialog, by the way, was at full, party time volume, and Lee was gesturing and engaging the others by passing the magazine around, fishing for affirmation which no one else was giving. This situation comes rather frequently, I have noticed. Me and Lee. Somehow I am there listening to his stories about test tube babies, beating up the president, lassoing a jet and riding it to the moon etc... And I am forced by my own social structure to respond! I can't just stand there. I can't ignore him! I can't change the subject! It is like I am imprisoned by thick walls of lies reinforced by more lies. I find myself immersed in Lee's fantasy to an uncomfortable degree.
So Lee was demanding total attention of every person in the room, and when they started practicing again, Lee started talking louder. Jason's cousin Jon left, and as soon as he did I picked up the bass and began playing just to remove myself from the "Lee camp".
He persisted by standing in between everyone and talking, holding the magazine in front of everyone's faces, and trying to lure them individually with topics Lee knew would interest them. It was god-awful. Somehow I elevated myself to a far away place and drowned out the sound of his voice with my own god-awful bass picking.
I finally opened my eyes to see that Lee had leaned the magazine ad on the window sill and was in a lunge formation with his face nearly touching the page. He was like that for at least 30 seconds.
Soon afterwards he left, presumably because no one wanted to listen to him talking about somebody else's baby in a magazine ad. It was awful.
The other day my friend Audry came over to pick me up and Lee intersected us at the mailbox, and started talking about his desire to "get outta here an do sum travilin!"
Already in the car and buckled in, I said "That's a good idea, Lee. There's no reason why you shouldn't travel since you live alone. I would if I were you."
Then Lee said "Hell Jill, I can't take you too. I mean, you're married an you got that kid an all! I can't take you with me! You're cute an all but I jus can't!"
He walked backwards towards his house with a pained look on his face, maintaining semi-eye contact and mumbling. As soon as we pulled out Audry started with the questions.
8/26/2008 My Birthday, and an Event You Cannot Miss
Hosted By: Handmade
When: Friday Sep 05, 2008
at 6:00 PM
Where Old City Java
109 s.
central St
knoxville, TN 37902
United States
Description:
Handmade
Click Here To View Event
Hey everybody!
Thanks for all the birthday greetings!
Other than:
1. my son breaking the a/c adapter inside the port of my computer
2. breaking the handle on my beloved "Oreo" coffee mug
and
3. not being able to get the wood-loaded trailer unhitched from my truck so I could go run errands
It was perfect.
I DID manage to:
1. rearrange the living room furniture all by myself and cleaned underneath
2. sew for 1 whole hour
3. talk to my hilarious sister in law
4. go eat sushi with my man while Fox's favorite friend, Cool Jon watched over him
Not too bad. It's good to start the new decade on a middle ground. Hopefully this symbolizes a balanced future.
Here is a flier for a show which a bunch of cool crafters will be participating in. Including yours truly. Please come by if you happen to be in the Knoxville metro area.
When: Friday Sep 05, 2008
at 6:00 PM
Where Old City Java
109 s.
central St
knoxville, TN 37902
United States
Description:
Handmade
Click Here To View Event
Hey everybody!
Thanks for all the birthday greetings!
Other than:
1. my son breaking the a/c adapter inside the port of my computer
2. breaking the handle on my beloved "Oreo" coffee mug
and
3. not being able to get the wood-loaded trailer unhitched from my truck so I could go run errands
It was perfect.
I DID manage to:
1. rearrange the living room furniture all by myself and cleaned underneath
2. sew for 1 whole hour
3. talk to my hilarious sister in law
4. go eat sushi with my man while Fox's favorite friend, Cool Jon watched over him
Not too bad. It's good to start the new decade on a middle ground. Hopefully this symbolizes a balanced future.
Here is a flier for a show which a bunch of cool crafters will be participating in. Including yours truly. Please come by if you happen to be in the Knoxville metro area.
8/4/2008 Very Bad Smell
Something died outside my house and I don't know what to do about it. The stink is awful, but finding it might be even worse than the stench. Quite frankly I haven't any idea where I would begin looking; the creature could be anywhere in my immediate vicinity. Not inside my house or anything, but anywhere on the .88 acre surrounding my home.
I thought about replacing the roundup Jason uses with febreeze, but gawd only knows what crazy reaction may occur. Febreeze is bad news anyway and I don't think anyone is fooled by it's chemical aroma. I have never been one for air fresheners anyway. Somehow I think that the only corrective measure would involve fire and a respirator mask.
I keep hoping that I will wake up and find the air as fresh as it normally is (which is 'not-so-fresh' here in the East Tennessee, coal-fired valley) but as biology would dictate it will only continue to get worse and worse until one day, probably in the refrigerator temperatures of December.
Why am I surrounded by awful smells of late? If a skunk isn't waging war on the feral cat community, it's a shittious diaper. And if it isn't a diaper it's the compost I forgot about before I left town for a week. Not the compost? Then it's my husband's New Balance tennis shoes that he has never worn socks with, then left under a pile of damp socks (which he wears without shoes in the out-of-doors). The noxious paint thinner fumes coming from my work space suddenly seem pleasant and evoke memories of past jobs in churches and theaters. Even my husband's truck has a nostalgic odor about it. Normally I refuse to ride in it because of the acetone/mildew scent, but lately it burns my eyes with familiarity, not with chemistry. Exhaust doesn't bother me. My cat's litter box really isn't that bad. I could very likely use it as an air freshener if I could just figure out where that dead thing is, and hang it above it.
Without an end in sight I have given up hope of opening my windows to a fresh cut, perfumey smell. Now I would settle for the vapid scent of rotting wood, or an otherwise disagreeable whiff of burning hair and TNT. There isn't enough arm and hammer in the world to erase what is happening in the woods behind my house, but if anyone has any suggestions I would appreciate it.
And fire, unfortunately isn't an option.
I don't like posting blogs without pictures, so here's something that doesn't stink
It may leave you wondering how I got arnold schwarzenegger's left arm, though.
I thought about replacing the roundup Jason uses with febreeze, but gawd only knows what crazy reaction may occur. Febreeze is bad news anyway and I don't think anyone is fooled by it's chemical aroma. I have never been one for air fresheners anyway. Somehow I think that the only corrective measure would involve fire and a respirator mask.
I keep hoping that I will wake up and find the air as fresh as it normally is (which is 'not-so-fresh' here in the East Tennessee, coal-fired valley) but as biology would dictate it will only continue to get worse and worse until one day, probably in the refrigerator temperatures of December.
Why am I surrounded by awful smells of late? If a skunk isn't waging war on the feral cat community, it's a shittious diaper. And if it isn't a diaper it's the compost I forgot about before I left town for a week. Not the compost? Then it's my husband's New Balance tennis shoes that he has never worn socks with, then left under a pile of damp socks (which he wears without shoes in the out-of-doors). The noxious paint thinner fumes coming from my work space suddenly seem pleasant and evoke memories of past jobs in churches and theaters. Even my husband's truck has a nostalgic odor about it. Normally I refuse to ride in it because of the acetone/mildew scent, but lately it burns my eyes with familiarity, not with chemistry. Exhaust doesn't bother me. My cat's litter box really isn't that bad. I could very likely use it as an air freshener if I could just figure out where that dead thing is, and hang it above it.
Without an end in sight I have given up hope of opening my windows to a fresh cut, perfumey smell. Now I would settle for the vapid scent of rotting wood, or an otherwise disagreeable whiff of burning hair and TNT. There isn't enough arm and hammer in the world to erase what is happening in the woods behind my house, but if anyone has any suggestions I would appreciate it.
And fire, unfortunately isn't an option.
I don't like posting blogs without pictures, so here's something that doesn't stink
It may leave you wondering how I got arnold schwarzenegger's left arm, though.
7/24/2008 Pillow Fort
Having kids is great for many reasons, one of them being that you are able to relive the joys of your own childhood. I had almost forgotten about pillow forts...
7/23/2008 Skunk Battle
Our neighborhood is plagued with skunks. When we moved into our house we noticed a presence that was almost negligible, but late at night there were noises that made me wonder if there was a hobo family colonizing my basement. As it turned out it was a hobo family.... A skunk family.
It sounded like an old woman in a housecoat tip-toeing around while eating peanut brittle, and an occasional fight that sounded like the hushed squealing of vampire children. Not to mention the occasional smell of burning plastic and tires. It was so bad that we would leave our house for an hour with the windows open and the fans going.
One afternoon our cable internet went out, so I called the company. They sent a service man to my house and he went under the house to investigate the cable issue. Our cable was installed along the front wall of the house which is built over a crawl-space but can be accessed through our basement. It is about two and three quarters feet high, and to get to the area where the cable enters the house requires an Indiana Jones style crawl.
When he came out looking horrified I knew something bad had happened. Before I could inquire, he walked straight to his truck, got in, yelled something out the window, and drove away. I think he yelled something about not getting payed enough.
I was tantalized and decided to suit up and investigate. I got the flashlight and headed downstairs armed with a rubbermaid tub. I shined the light in the corners, then towards the crawlspace. I could see a little rectangle of light coming from the front of the house's foundation, and then noticed a few large holes dug into the earth floor of the basement. I went outside and looked around for holes, finding one on the other side of the basement door where there is a shed roof attached to the house. I continued looking and discovered a network of ditches, mounds and holes almost 15 or 20 meters away from my house! I wondered if they led into my basement, and then wondered how many animals lived down there.
After this awful discovery we became the number 1 consumers of Quikrete brand concrete product, and also of the household cleaning product, "The Works". Our method included setting "works bombs" in the holes, then pouring concrete into them till the openings were filled up. As unorthodox as it was, our method seemed to get them out of the basement.
We tried all of the other recommendations before resorting to this. Black pepper was dumped by the pound into the holes, enough Irish Spring soap to last a lifetime of cleanliness, a product called "Skunk-B-Gone" which seemed like a mixture of pepper and other aromatic spices. . . . The list could go on; we tried lots of approaches without any success. Although I wasn't pleased with our decision to take such an aggressive approach, I was happy to finally employ my Works-Bomb skills for something productive.
Now that our house is skunk free we are seeing more and more roaming the neighborhood. They move around slow and stupid like zombies, and the feral cats occasionally fight them, resulting in a stink that blankets our block, just like a weather system. On two different occasions I almost trapped skunks in five gallon buckets and tubs, but I chicken out at the last moment in fear of getting sprayed. Amazingly, you can provoke a skunk quite a bit without getting sprayed. If I had caught them I think I would have built them a mini-ark and let them set sail down the Tennessee river. Seeing that coming down the river would bring a smile to anyone's face.
7/17/2008 Illustration Fascination
OhmyGod I have been so busy lately I haven't had time to report on my busy-ness!
Last week I was in Highlands, NC taking a scientific illustration class and spending time with some of my favorite friends, Andy and Hilary. After hearing about this course I remembered that my friend Hilary was teaching kids 'nature drawing' through her local arts council, so I decided to call her up and tell her about the class. Miraculously, she was able to get off work and sign up for the class! She and her partner Andy spent the week at a nearby campground since they had two, 7-week old chocolate lab puppies in tow. (They didn't allow puppies in the dorm unless they were enrolled in a class)
Hilary and I spent the week drawing with more focus and attention to detail than we ever had before. We both remembered how in college we were encouraged to work quickly, on large tableaux, and without an attempt at direct representation. When we picked up our 3" by 5" scraps of paper and were told to draw any object we wanted, to scale, it took a while to shift into "meticulous mode". Hours flew by like minutes, and both of us ultimately got into it. With a total of 9 students, our class was small enough to participate in group conversations and have lots of time talking with the instructor, and we were able to hang out after hours since we were all staying locally. We set bug traps after dark and drank beer using our finds as subjects for illustrations. The Highlands Biological Station has a summer camp feel to it, and I think everyone in the class regressed to a happy, curious time. Everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy the class and felt inspired enough to choose projects that they wouldn't have before. I spent most of my time drawing from a microscope, for example.
So now I am back in Knoxville and still have the drive and inspiration to draw 8+ hours a day, but it simply isn't possible. Having a 2 year old running around really destroys any chance of focusing, and when nap time rolls around all I can think about is the mess in his wake. (Today Fox squeezed an entire bottle of sunblock out on the carpet in my bedroom, and I didn't know it till I slid in it. He painted the door jam, threw a perfectly good push up pop down the vent, and tried climbing up the chest o drawers.)
Since Fox was staying in the safety of his grandparents houses I was able to relax a little bit and get some work done in that class, and I realize more and more how lucky I was.
As I am still in "settling back in" mode I haven't been able to work on any cool projects or pictures. Hopefully next week will be easier.
Ohyeah-
My neighbor, Lee came over today and told Jason and I about how he had pulled a drunkard's tooth, once.
He said, "I went over thar an he id been a-drankin at Listerine warsh an he'as all drunk. We made em shuv is hands in is back pockets while I put my knees on is shoulders, an another guy held is jaw down while a differnt guy yanked is molar-tooth out with a pair uh pliars. After it uz out I told em to go ahead an take em another pull of at Listerine, an he said 'ok, Lee', an he ended up givin me ten dollars for it"
Last week I was in Highlands, NC taking a scientific illustration class and spending time with some of my favorite friends, Andy and Hilary. After hearing about this course I remembered that my friend Hilary was teaching kids 'nature drawing' through her local arts council, so I decided to call her up and tell her about the class. Miraculously, she was able to get off work and sign up for the class! She and her partner Andy spent the week at a nearby campground since they had two, 7-week old chocolate lab puppies in tow. (They didn't allow puppies in the dorm unless they were enrolled in a class)
Hilary and I spent the week drawing with more focus and attention to detail than we ever had before. We both remembered how in college we were encouraged to work quickly, on large tableaux, and without an attempt at direct representation. When we picked up our 3" by 5" scraps of paper and were told to draw any object we wanted, to scale, it took a while to shift into "meticulous mode". Hours flew by like minutes, and both of us ultimately got into it. With a total of 9 students, our class was small enough to participate in group conversations and have lots of time talking with the instructor, and we were able to hang out after hours since we were all staying locally. We set bug traps after dark and drank beer using our finds as subjects for illustrations. The Highlands Biological Station has a summer camp feel to it, and I think everyone in the class regressed to a happy, curious time. Everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy the class and felt inspired enough to choose projects that they wouldn't have before. I spent most of my time drawing from a microscope, for example.
So now I am back in Knoxville and still have the drive and inspiration to draw 8+ hours a day, but it simply isn't possible. Having a 2 year old running around really destroys any chance of focusing, and when nap time rolls around all I can think about is the mess in his wake. (Today Fox squeezed an entire bottle of sunblock out on the carpet in my bedroom, and I didn't know it till I slid in it. He painted the door jam, threw a perfectly good push up pop down the vent, and tried climbing up the chest o drawers.)
Since Fox was staying in the safety of his grandparents houses I was able to relax a little bit and get some work done in that class, and I realize more and more how lucky I was.
As I am still in "settling back in" mode I haven't been able to work on any cool projects or pictures. Hopefully next week will be easier.
Ohyeah-
My neighbor, Lee came over today and told Jason and I about how he had pulled a drunkard's tooth, once.
He said, "I went over thar an he id been a-drankin at Listerine warsh an he'as all drunk. We made em shuv is hands in is back pockets while I put my knees on is shoulders, an another guy held is jaw down while a differnt guy yanked is molar-tooth out with a pair uh pliars. After it uz out I told em to go ahead an take em another pull of at Listerine, an he said 'ok, Lee', an he ended up givin me ten dollars for it"
6/25/2008 Raw Meat Eye
The other day I was gathering things in preparation for an afternoon excursion to Kroger while Fox busily assaulted the earth with a socket wrench. As I loaded the last of the recycling into my truck, all hell suddenly broke loose. Fox was using the wrench as a hammer and somehow clocked himself in the face resulting in an immediate textbook shiner. He screamed till his face was as purple as his eye while I hugged and cuddled him. We went back inside to get a sock full of ice and when I opened the chest freezer he got distracted, marking the end of the crying spell.
We left the house for the second time, and as soon as Fox saw the lone socket wrench he wiggled free and retrieved the tool. Within seconds he was back to hammering dirt with the wrench, but this time with a more external swing, bringing his arm up above his head instead of towards his face.
At this moment I noticed Lee standing at his mailbox with his back towards us. He had a cup of what I assumed was coffee, and his button up shirt was left unbuttoned, protuberant belly shining in the noon-day sun.
Considering his recent wounding disturbance, I let Fox play a little bit more before I strapped him into his car seat. Lee wandered over and wished us a good morning, then asked what I had done to make "aat boy cry like at"?
I explained what had happened and Lee assessed the damage. He praised Fox's bravery and tough-ness, then recommended that I tape a piece of raw meat to his black eye while he slept.
I asked if it was a remedy to keep the swelling down, and he told me
"what-cha do is get cha sum uh that chicken fried steak an take yuh a little scrap an jus tape it to is eye overnight. It'll keep is eye frum a-turnin black"
I said that I would wait and see how it looked when we got back from the store, loaded Fox up and drove away.
Is there anyone out there who would consider taping raw meat to a toddlers face? Do people still do that sort of thing, despite 'potentially bacteria-laden meat on a mucous membrane' red flags flying everywhere you look?
The bump never really evolved into a full blown shiner, but not because I put raw meat on it.
We left the house for the second time, and as soon as Fox saw the lone socket wrench he wiggled free and retrieved the tool. Within seconds he was back to hammering dirt with the wrench, but this time with a more external swing, bringing his arm up above his head instead of towards his face.
At this moment I noticed Lee standing at his mailbox with his back towards us. He had a cup of what I assumed was coffee, and his button up shirt was left unbuttoned, protuberant belly shining in the noon-day sun.
Considering his recent wounding disturbance, I let Fox play a little bit more before I strapped him into his car seat. Lee wandered over and wished us a good morning, then asked what I had done to make "aat boy cry like at"?
I explained what had happened and Lee assessed the damage. He praised Fox's bravery and tough-ness, then recommended that I tape a piece of raw meat to his black eye while he slept.
I asked if it was a remedy to keep the swelling down, and he told me
"what-cha do is get cha sum uh that chicken fried steak an take yuh a little scrap an jus tape it to is eye overnight. It'll keep is eye frum a-turnin black"
I said that I would wait and see how it looked when we got back from the store, loaded Fox up and drove away.
Is there anyone out there who would consider taping raw meat to a toddlers face? Do people still do that sort of thing, despite 'potentially bacteria-laden meat on a mucous membrane' red flags flying everywhere you look?
The bump never really evolved into a full blown shiner, but not because I put raw meat on it.
6/24/2008 Best Ice Cream Ever
Mayfield Birthday Cake Ice Cream
Now that the weather is nice and I have started spending more time outside, my ice cream obsession has been kindled anew. Where my husband seeks refreshment with millions of canned beers, I choose to spend my caloric allowance on a goodly-sized portion of my favorite ice cream flavor-du-jour.
I go through phases with ice cream and always have. For years I was devoted to Breyers Natural Vanilla Bean with Hershey's chocolate syrup, then caramel syrup, and finally, crumbled up Oreos.
In college I went to the Hagan Daas stand in the Student Union every day and got a milkshake made from half orange sorbet and half french vanilla. Those milkshakes came in huge, 30 oz cups and I honestly got one every day my freshman year, as it was the only palatable food available at any of the campus eateries. I actually lost 15 pounds that year consuming a primo ice cream shake every day, certainly due to the lack of decent vegetarian food otherwise.
The past few years I have been partial to Edy's chocolate ice cream. My parents and I conducted a taste test between Edys, Breyers, and Mayfields chocolate ice cream. The Edys was much darker and cocoa-ier than the other two. The Breyers seemed thin and flavorless in comparison, and the Mayfields was just a little bit better than the Breyers. The vote was unanimous; Edys Chocolate is supreme.
Which brings us to now; June 2008. While vacationing at the beach I bought an ice cream cone for Fox and I to share, and I bought the Birthday Cake flavor mainly because they didn't have any of my other stand-bys, and the other options were those crazy kinds with chunks of chocolate covered monkeys and cinnamon cherry gummi sprinkles. Plus it had a ton of artificial blue coloring in it, and I usually end up liking "blue" flavors best. Like that blue PowerAid; YUM.
Long story short, Mayfields Birthday Cake Premium Ice Cream is my new favorite of all time ice cream. I highly recommend it and give it a 10 out of 10 ice cream carts, which is a system of rating ice cream flavors that I just made up.
Now that the weather is nice and I have started spending more time outside, my ice cream obsession has been kindled anew. Where my husband seeks refreshment with millions of canned beers, I choose to spend my caloric allowance on a goodly-sized portion of my favorite ice cream flavor-du-jour.
I go through phases with ice cream and always have. For years I was devoted to Breyers Natural Vanilla Bean with Hershey's chocolate syrup, then caramel syrup, and finally, crumbled up Oreos.
In college I went to the Hagan Daas stand in the Student Union every day and got a milkshake made from half orange sorbet and half french vanilla. Those milkshakes came in huge, 30 oz cups and I honestly got one every day my freshman year, as it was the only palatable food available at any of the campus eateries. I actually lost 15 pounds that year consuming a primo ice cream shake every day, certainly due to the lack of decent vegetarian food otherwise.
The past few years I have been partial to Edy's chocolate ice cream. My parents and I conducted a taste test between Edys, Breyers, and Mayfields chocolate ice cream. The Edys was much darker and cocoa-ier than the other two. The Breyers seemed thin and flavorless in comparison, and the Mayfields was just a little bit better than the Breyers. The vote was unanimous; Edys Chocolate is supreme.
Which brings us to now; June 2008. While vacationing at the beach I bought an ice cream cone for Fox and I to share, and I bought the Birthday Cake flavor mainly because they didn't have any of my other stand-bys, and the other options were those crazy kinds with chunks of chocolate covered monkeys and cinnamon cherry gummi sprinkles. Plus it had a ton of artificial blue coloring in it, and I usually end up liking "blue" flavors best. Like that blue PowerAid; YUM.
Long story short, Mayfields Birthday Cake Premium Ice Cream is my new favorite of all time ice cream. I highly recommend it and give it a 10 out of 10 ice cream carts, which is a system of rating ice cream flavors that I just made up.
6/19/2008 Professional Stunt POW Romeo
My neighbor Lee just left my house and I am stunned. Anyone who knows him or has read my blog posts about him know just how insane this is going to be.
Ok. The following are some things Lee shared with us regarding his past experiences.
In 1974 Lee was stuck in some sort of post-Vietnam POW camp being held by a group of enemies, one being John Belushi. He said he was tortured and raped, including an assault by a woman who became pregnant with twins.
"I didn't know nothin' 'bout 'em till I wuz a lookin' at a Playboy and saw 'em. They's Asian-lookin' with a bunch uh tatoos an' shit all up 'ere legs. An that's th' first I'd ever even knowed they's alive!"
He then looked gravely serious and almost yelled
"MY DAUGHTERS!" (Pointing to his chest) "They's MY twin daughters!"
You called them, Lee! I guess they're yours!
Lee saw the other captives being cut open and fed to the tigers and he knew that his turn was coming, so one day when he was chained to the floor, he asked John Belushi to allow him to go to the river and wash off because he had pooped himself. Stupidly, John agreed and because Lee has a "hidden lung", he was able to swim underwater to his safety.
When he managed to get onto an airplane departing to the US, he started making calls and arrangements. He found out that David Letterman, Robin Williams, George W. Bush and Terry Bradshaw were traitors and were trying to abandon these American prisoners in Cambodia. He then described his retaliation against said traitors.
Lee said that he drove to New York city and tracked Letterman down while he was driving, then rear ended him at a busy 4-way intersection going 65 mph. He said that Dave had whip-lash real bad and he crawled out of the car because he was afraid it was going to explode.
Robin Williams didn't have such an easy payback. Lee knew some "black guards who wuz on the aircraft carrier when I wuz, one of em's name wuz 'Foots'" Evidently Foots was ordered by Lee to "shishcabob" Robin Williams till he cried. I will let you figure that out for yourself.
Lee then began his quest of kidnapping of G.W Bush which involved knocking him out and putting him in some sort of pet crate, then loading him onto a moving truck. While on the truck Lee forced G.W to write a letter pardoning him for breaking a few rules, then sealed the letter with his wax stamp, then sent it to England "cuz I've been knighted an I knew they wuz on my side".
I think Terry Bradshaw's punishment is still pending. All I can say is this:
"Terry Bradshaw;
I don't know what you look like or what your life's accomplishments are; I don't know if you have a wife and family, or if you are respected in your realm. What I DO know is that there is a man out there who might just come after you one day, attack and maybe kill you for something that couldn't possibly have happened. Don't live your life in fear, but be careful about your public appearances and use good judgment with fans. This man said that he might make Halloween masks of himself, G.W Bush, and you and sell them as a 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly' costume. He said you were 'The Ugly'"
Lee also made me youtube a few car commercials in which he was the "professional stunt driver". The first one is a semi-current Lexus commercial with a ball bearing on the hood, the second one was a 2005 Cheverolet commercial with cars driving up onto a transfer truck, and the third was a brand new Lincoln MK5 (?) spot with a guy (himself) driving the car in a hangar as if it were a jet. . He insisted that he was the driver, and was really excited about seeing them and saying "LOOK at what I do here!!, NO SHIT man! That's ME!"
Earlier today I was getting in my car getting ready to go grocery shopping when Lee appeared in my driveway to see what was up. I asked him if he needed anything from Kroger and he said that he wanted to come along with me.
We shopped around for a while and after he was through he joined Fox and I and just walked along the aisles with us. Halfway down the international aisle Lee approached a lady and asked her if three, 3 karat diamonds were big. The lady looked at him in confusion, not understanding the grammatical inconsistencies of his query. He pointed at her ring and asked
"What's that 'un? Like 2 or 3 karats?"
She chuckled and said in a very matter of fact way
"Um, no, this one isn't even a karat"
Lee sighed dramatically and turned to me (CRINGE) and said
"Oh hell! I've spent a fortune ain't I? [towards the woman] See, I bought this lady a ring with three, 3 karat, Canary diamonds on it, and I ain't even seen it yet. I won't see whut I bought till she comes here tuh live with me next year, I guess"
Almost speechless, the lady replied in a forced giggle; "YES! Hahahah, Yes you have!" And then she wheeled off asap.
Ok. The following are some things Lee shared with us regarding his past experiences.
In 1974 Lee was stuck in some sort of post-Vietnam POW camp being held by a group of enemies, one being John Belushi. He said he was tortured and raped, including an assault by a woman who became pregnant with twins.
"I didn't know nothin' 'bout 'em till I wuz a lookin' at a Playboy and saw 'em. They's Asian-lookin' with a bunch uh tatoos an' shit all up 'ere legs. An that's th' first I'd ever even knowed they's alive!"
He then looked gravely serious and almost yelled
"MY DAUGHTERS!" (Pointing to his chest) "They's MY twin daughters!"
You called them, Lee! I guess they're yours!
Lee saw the other captives being cut open and fed to the tigers and he knew that his turn was coming, so one day when he was chained to the floor, he asked John Belushi to allow him to go to the river and wash off because he had pooped himself. Stupidly, John agreed and because Lee has a "hidden lung", he was able to swim underwater to his safety.
When he managed to get onto an airplane departing to the US, he started making calls and arrangements. He found out that David Letterman, Robin Williams, George W. Bush and Terry Bradshaw were traitors and were trying to abandon these American prisoners in Cambodia. He then described his retaliation against said traitors.
Lee said that he drove to New York city and tracked Letterman down while he was driving, then rear ended him at a busy 4-way intersection going 65 mph. He said that Dave had whip-lash real bad and he crawled out of the car because he was afraid it was going to explode.
Robin Williams didn't have such an easy payback. Lee knew some "black guards who wuz on the aircraft carrier when I wuz, one of em's name wuz 'Foots'" Evidently Foots was ordered by Lee to "shishcabob" Robin Williams till he cried. I will let you figure that out for yourself.
Lee then began his quest of kidnapping of G.W Bush which involved knocking him out and putting him in some sort of pet crate, then loading him onto a moving truck. While on the truck Lee forced G.W to write a letter pardoning him for breaking a few rules, then sealed the letter with his wax stamp, then sent it to England "cuz I've been knighted an I knew they wuz on my side".
I think Terry Bradshaw's punishment is still pending. All I can say is this:
"Terry Bradshaw;
I don't know what you look like or what your life's accomplishments are; I don't know if you have a wife and family, or if you are respected in your realm. What I DO know is that there is a man out there who might just come after you one day, attack and maybe kill you for something that couldn't possibly have happened. Don't live your life in fear, but be careful about your public appearances and use good judgment with fans. This man said that he might make Halloween masks of himself, G.W Bush, and you and sell them as a 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly' costume. He said you were 'The Ugly'"
Lee also made me youtube a few car commercials in which he was the "professional stunt driver". The first one is a semi-current Lexus commercial with a ball bearing on the hood, the second one was a 2005 Cheverolet commercial with cars driving up onto a transfer truck, and the third was a brand new Lincoln MK5 (?) spot with a guy (himself) driving the car in a hangar as if it were a jet. . He insisted that he was the driver, and was really excited about seeing them and saying "LOOK at what I do here!!, NO SHIT man! That's ME!"
Earlier today I was getting in my car getting ready to go grocery shopping when Lee appeared in my driveway to see what was up. I asked him if he needed anything from Kroger and he said that he wanted to come along with me.
We shopped around for a while and after he was through he joined Fox and I and just walked along the aisles with us. Halfway down the international aisle Lee approached a lady and asked her if three, 3 karat diamonds were big. The lady looked at him in confusion, not understanding the grammatical inconsistencies of his query. He pointed at her ring and asked
"What's that 'un? Like 2 or 3 karats?"
She chuckled and said in a very matter of fact way
"Um, no, this one isn't even a karat"
Lee sighed dramatically and turned to me (CRINGE) and said
"Oh hell! I've spent a fortune ain't I? [towards the woman] See, I bought this lady a ring with three, 3 karat, Canary diamonds on it, and I ain't even seen it yet. I won't see whut I bought till she comes here tuh live with me next year, I guess"
Almost speechless, the lady replied in a forced giggle; "YES! Hahahah, Yes you have!" And then she wheeled off asap.
5/12/2008 Baltimore
I have just returned from Baltimore after visiting my friend Sonja and attending her baby shower. I really like Baltimore's character; it has all the nuances of an old friend with good and bad qualities, all of which make you love them. The neighborhoods are close knit rows of turn of the century homes with huge granite slab steps leading to the leaded glass transom doors. Sonja's block has a real "Sesame Street" feel with lots of families and outdoor types. Their home borders a huge, Central Park type green area called Patterson Park giving them the benefits of having a pool, tennis courts, basketball courts, walking trails and playgrounds in their immediate vicinity. Since they have a large dog who must be walked three times a day, Sonja and Steve really appreciate living so close to the park.
On the drive to Baltimore we decided to take I 26 to Bristol, then 81 to the crazy network of loops and beltways surrounding the D.C/Baltimore area. It was amazing how beautiful the drive was all the way up to the metropolitan area. Life was good and the drive enchanting until my air conditioning stopped working. It became unberable at times, and we actually considered stopping to have someone recharge the freon. When we decided to start looking for a place to stop, the sun began to set and the temperature became tolerable, so we just continued.
We arrived and clamoured into Steve and Sonja's air conditioned house, swearing that we would never leave it, moved our belongings out of the car, found a suitable parking space and called it a night. Air conditioning had never felt so good, especially since my clothing had been wringing wet a few hours before and still retained a good amount of moisture in them.
I awoke the next morning when Fox started calling my name from the window-less nursery. How can he know when 7am rolls around when there are no lights or indications of day break AT ALL? We got dressed and prepared breakfast looking forward to the big playground at Patterson park. After disarming the alarm I grabbed my phone, some water and the jogging stroller and Fox and I exited the house into the thickest, hottest heat this side of the Amazon. Immediately Fox's cheeks turned pink and my clothes stuck to me. I got him into the stroller and we made our way to the park.
When the playground was in sight, Fox forgot about the hellish temperature and began bouncing with excitement; plus there were no other kids on the equipment since it was so early, I supossed. When we were securly inside of the fence I let Fox out of the stroller, unleashing him into the brand new-to-him playground. The second he touched the climbing apparatus he gasped and turned to me with the bitter look of betrayel. His eyes were tearing up when I came over to assure him that he was safe, and that he could climb the faux rock wall all by himself like a big boy when my leg came into contact with the thick, plastic wall. The thing was ON FIRE. In fact, the entire playground was the temperature of the sun and it wasn't even 9am yet. I felt so bad for Fox! Just last week we were going to our "regular" playground in Knoxville (the Island Home Park) and as we rounded the bend to the playground we were horrified to discover that a massive Oak had fallen, taking out the entire play place. Danny, Cora and Adrianne were with us and the boys were ultimately confused. They kept running up to the ladder of the tower, then seeing that the ladder lead no where they would turn and look at us with those disappointed eyes!
Fox and I ended up just going on a walk around the huge park with Sonja and Gracie, her pup.
We had lots of fun around the town visiting the museum, going to a Cuban resturant, celebrating birthdays with Sonja's family, and just relaxing in the AC... The day before we were going to leave to return home I decided that my truck AC wasn't going to fix itself, so I made an appt with a place that was familiar to Sonja. It was the first time I had really driven in Baltimore, and I was shocked at the state of the roads there. Not that I'm into paving and paving till things are perfect, but at least filling in gaping pot holes and putting some warning signs when there is a bump the size of a fallen tree. There are better roads in developing countries.Blazing a trail through a forest would yield better roads.
I got the AC charged up and the return drive was much cooler. Now I am back in Asheville and the 85 degree heat feels cool and breezy to me.
On the drive to Baltimore we decided to take I 26 to Bristol, then 81 to the crazy network of loops and beltways surrounding the D.C/Baltimore area. It was amazing how beautiful the drive was all the way up to the metropolitan area. Life was good and the drive enchanting until my air conditioning stopped working. It became unberable at times, and we actually considered stopping to have someone recharge the freon. When we decided to start looking for a place to stop, the sun began to set and the temperature became tolerable, so we just continued.
We arrived and clamoured into Steve and Sonja's air conditioned house, swearing that we would never leave it, moved our belongings out of the car, found a suitable parking space and called it a night. Air conditioning had never felt so good, especially since my clothing had been wringing wet a few hours before and still retained a good amount of moisture in them.
I awoke the next morning when Fox started calling my name from the window-less nursery. How can he know when 7am rolls around when there are no lights or indications of day break AT ALL? We got dressed and prepared breakfast looking forward to the big playground at Patterson park. After disarming the alarm I grabbed my phone, some water and the jogging stroller and Fox and I exited the house into the thickest, hottest heat this side of the Amazon. Immediately Fox's cheeks turned pink and my clothes stuck to me. I got him into the stroller and we made our way to the park.
When the playground was in sight, Fox forgot about the hellish temperature and began bouncing with excitement; plus there were no other kids on the equipment since it was so early, I supossed. When we were securly inside of the fence I let Fox out of the stroller, unleashing him into the brand new-to-him playground. The second he touched the climbing apparatus he gasped and turned to me with the bitter look of betrayel. His eyes were tearing up when I came over to assure him that he was safe, and that he could climb the faux rock wall all by himself like a big boy when my leg came into contact with the thick, plastic wall. The thing was ON FIRE. In fact, the entire playground was the temperature of the sun and it wasn't even 9am yet. I felt so bad for Fox! Just last week we were going to our "regular" playground in Knoxville (the Island Home Park) and as we rounded the bend to the playground we were horrified to discover that a massive Oak had fallen, taking out the entire play place. Danny, Cora and Adrianne were with us and the boys were ultimately confused. They kept running up to the ladder of the tower, then seeing that the ladder lead no where they would turn and look at us with those disappointed eyes!
Fox and I ended up just going on a walk around the huge park with Sonja and Gracie, her pup.
We had lots of fun around the town visiting the museum, going to a Cuban resturant, celebrating birthdays with Sonja's family, and just relaxing in the AC... The day before we were going to leave to return home I decided that my truck AC wasn't going to fix itself, so I made an appt with a place that was familiar to Sonja. It was the first time I had really driven in Baltimore, and I was shocked at the state of the roads there. Not that I'm into paving and paving till things are perfect, but at least filling in gaping pot holes and putting some warning signs when there is a bump the size of a fallen tree. There are better roads in developing countries.Blazing a trail through a forest would yield better roads.
I got the AC charged up and the return drive was much cooler. Now I am back in Asheville and the 85 degree heat feels cool and breezy to me.
5/2/2008 Snake
Yes, that is a huge snake he is fooling around with.
This picture was taken in Fairview NC at a friend's family's farm (nice alliteration!) right outside of their barn. We came very close to stepping on it because there were horses running around everywhere distracting us, and it was laying right in front of a gate.
Something else interesting regarding Jason and animals is that he got a cat. For those of you who know Jason I'm sure you're wondering "what? Jason HATES cats. He wants to kill them. What brought on this change of heart?"
I do not have the answer and am just as confused as you are. He seems to really like this cat, and doesn't have an allergic reaction to her like he has to all other cats in the world. She is sweet with Fox and doesn't attack him when he tries to cuddle her too tight, and she doesn't pee or crap on the floor. So far so good.
The cat DID scratch the shiz out of my sister in law's face, though. It was right when she had arrived and she wanted to go into the bedroom and see the new kitty, so she shut the door behind her to keep her dog, Graham from scaring the cat.. Well Fox started knocking on the door and Cassie was going to open the door to let Fox pet the cat, but the dog ran into the room instead and the cat went insane. Scratching insane. The scratch was so deep and painful that Cassie couldn't smile for two days. We both felt dumb for letting it happen, and thankful that it wasn't her eyeball that got clawed out.
6/1/2008 Liquor-cycle
A few weeks ago Lee asked me to take him down the road to pick up a rug he saw on the side of the street. Being an active scavenger, I had already seen the rug in which he spoke days before. Two thunderstorms before. He acted like there was a big rush on going and getting the thing so I buckled Fox in, then jumped in the car, making myself 100% available and determined.
We drove at breakneck speeds to the curb where the rug was discarded and Lee gave me explicit directions about positioning my car for an optimal getaway. We both jumped out of the car; I opened the back of the truck and he hoisted the rug onto the bed. As we closed the hatch and jumped back into the cab another car pulled up. It seemed as if they lived in the house and were trying to pull into the driveway that we were blocking with our creative parking. After our doors were secured I gassed the engine, spinning gravel across the yard and accelerating towards our street.
Lee was invigorated.
"Did yew see that guy comin in-a-tryin te get ire rug?!"
Unwilling to share my downer perspective I said "Yeah! We DOGGED that jerk!"
We continued down the street with the rug in stow when Lee remarked
"Ats a nice rug. Uh hunderd dollar rug. It smells a little like cat urine, but I know a way tuh get rid uv it. What cha do iz take bakin soda an crushed up cloves an sprinkle em all over the thing with uh little alcohol; leave it for half hour, then clean it with detergent."
At this point I had already lowered all windows in the truck due to the oppressive smell. Willing to believe Lee's folk remedy I concentrated on getting home asap.
When we got back to Lee's house we pulled the rug out onto the dirt driveway and he proceeded to gather the elements needed to de-funkify the rug.
Approaching the rug with scientific rigor, he nodded in my direction while extending a five dollar bill.
"Thanks for goin on a run, girl. I'm gonna clean this thing up".
The rest of Lee's afternoon was spent multi-processing the rug with every chemical in his cupboard.
I decided to go to the grocery store and when I got back into the car it still smelled of cat urine.
This weekend my sister in law came into town to spend some time with us and the boy. She took Fox to the park while Jason and I cleared brush and overgrowth from our extra lots.
Lee appeared and asked about what we were doing and where was my truck.
I explained that Cassie had taken my truck to the park because it had the child safety seat installed in it, and that she and Fox would be back pretty soon.
Lee said "I went to a yard sale of a guy who has yard sales all summer long an he had this bike I wont"
I asked if we could bungee it to the top of my truck and he explained;
"hit aint that kinda bike, girl! Its one of em pedal-motor bike scooters! I don't even need to get a title for it or nuthin!"
I asked if he thought if it would fit in the back of my truck, and he said it would.
As soon as Cassie and Fox returned Lee and I headed out to the man's house to get the liquor-cycle.
We pulled up and Lee went up to knock on the door. No one answered.
He tried the side door, then the garage door.
The man told Lee that someone had already bought the thing and that he should have just bought it when he came earlier.
On the drive home I told Lee that I was sorry that he missed out on the bike, and he said "Hell! Don't be sorry! Alls that means is that some other guy has to do all that work!"
I figured that was the best attitude he could have had.
Instead of accepting our mission as a failure, Lee asked me to drive "on up ere to th' liquor store". He told me of a wonderful drink he made when he was a bar tender in the tropics (the movie "Cocktail" was based on this time period in Lee's life) involving cream an vodka. Suspecting White Russians, I willingly proceeded to the store and waited in the car with Lee's open container hidden in the floorboard.
We returned home and Lee disappeared into his kitchen while Cassie, Jason, Fox and I ate a wonderful meal together. Before we were finished eating Lee was at our door instructing us to come over and "getcha uh drank".
We told him we would come over as soon as we got Mr. Fox to bed, but that wasn't soon enough for him. He brought the whole affair over to our porch, complete with shining, new high ball glasses, and an insulated carafe full of the concoction.
As I had hoped, he had prepared White Russians. It was then that I made a strong connection between Lee and Jeff Bridges' character in the Big Labowski, "The Dude". The White Russians, the peed on rug, the love of leisure sports.
Lee is a cross between 'The Dude', and 'Beetlejuice'.
We drove at breakneck speeds to the curb where the rug was discarded and Lee gave me explicit directions about positioning my car for an optimal getaway. We both jumped out of the car; I opened the back of the truck and he hoisted the rug onto the bed. As we closed the hatch and jumped back into the cab another car pulled up. It seemed as if they lived in the house and were trying to pull into the driveway that we were blocking with our creative parking. After our doors were secured I gassed the engine, spinning gravel across the yard and accelerating towards our street.
Lee was invigorated.
"Did yew see that guy comin in-a-tryin te get ire rug?!"
Unwilling to share my downer perspective I said "Yeah! We DOGGED that jerk!"
We continued down the street with the rug in stow when Lee remarked
"Ats a nice rug. Uh hunderd dollar rug. It smells a little like cat urine, but I know a way tuh get rid uv it. What cha do iz take bakin soda an crushed up cloves an sprinkle em all over the thing with uh little alcohol; leave it for half hour, then clean it with detergent."
At this point I had already lowered all windows in the truck due to the oppressive smell. Willing to believe Lee's folk remedy I concentrated on getting home asap.
When we got back to Lee's house we pulled the rug out onto the dirt driveway and he proceeded to gather the elements needed to de-funkify the rug.
Approaching the rug with scientific rigor, he nodded in my direction while extending a five dollar bill.
"Thanks for goin on a run, girl. I'm gonna clean this thing up".
The rest of Lee's afternoon was spent multi-processing the rug with every chemical in his cupboard.
I decided to go to the grocery store and when I got back into the car it still smelled of cat urine.
This weekend my sister in law came into town to spend some time with us and the boy. She took Fox to the park while Jason and I cleared brush and overgrowth from our extra lots.
Lee appeared and asked about what we were doing and where was my truck.
I explained that Cassie had taken my truck to the park because it had the child safety seat installed in it, and that she and Fox would be back pretty soon.
Lee said "I went to a yard sale of a guy who has yard sales all summer long an he had this bike I wont"
I asked if we could bungee it to the top of my truck and he explained;
"hit aint that kinda bike, girl! Its one of em pedal-motor bike scooters! I don't even need to get a title for it or nuthin!"
I asked if he thought if it would fit in the back of my truck, and he said it would.
As soon as Cassie and Fox returned Lee and I headed out to the man's house to get the liquor-cycle.
We pulled up and Lee went up to knock on the door. No one answered.
He tried the side door, then the garage door.
The man told Lee that someone had already bought the thing and that he should have just bought it when he came earlier.
On the drive home I told Lee that I was sorry that he missed out on the bike, and he said "Hell! Don't be sorry! Alls that means is that some other guy has to do all that work!"
I figured that was the best attitude he could have had.
Instead of accepting our mission as a failure, Lee asked me to drive "on up ere to th' liquor store". He told me of a wonderful drink he made when he was a bar tender in the tropics (the movie "Cocktail" was based on this time period in Lee's life) involving cream an vodka. Suspecting White Russians, I willingly proceeded to the store and waited in the car with Lee's open container hidden in the floorboard.
We returned home and Lee disappeared into his kitchen while Cassie, Jason, Fox and I ate a wonderful meal together. Before we were finished eating Lee was at our door instructing us to come over and "getcha uh drank".
We told him we would come over as soon as we got Mr. Fox to bed, but that wasn't soon enough for him. He brought the whole affair over to our porch, complete with shining, new high ball glasses, and an insulated carafe full of the concoction.
As I had hoped, he had prepared White Russians. It was then that I made a strong connection between Lee and Jeff Bridges' character in the Big Labowski, "The Dude". The White Russians, the peed on rug, the love of leisure sports.
Lee is a cross between 'The Dude', and 'Beetlejuice'.
5/29/2008 Bike Week 08
Fox and I have returned from a vacation extravaganza which whisked us away to the glamorous and exclusive Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My best friend Heather's parents own two condos at a resort in South Myrtle Beach away from the oppressive traffic and noise of the "strip". We were there a week, Saturday to Saturday, and we managed to make two, separate "bike weeks", both the Harley Bike Week, and the Atlantic Bike Week, which I soon learned is commonly referred to as "black bike week". Both events are weekend long festivals that beacon bikers from all corners of this great nation. People arrive in huge pick up trucks towing a few bikes, with their wives behind them in a moving truck with six or eight more bikes inside. All of the bikes are then parked in a reserved section of the parking lot and their owners stand around laughing and admiring.
The Harley Bike week brings in a range of bikers: from near homeless, toothless drunks with mile-long beards to white collar drunks who own primary Harley's, secondary Harley's and emergency stand-in Harley's.
The Harley rainbow shines to the tunes of Santana, Skynard, and Steely Dan, closing the breadth of the gamut with Jimmy Buffet.
The Atlantic Bike week brings a much younger, thinner, and more active crowd. Imported bikes dominated the scene; these bikers were big and scary just like the Harley variety, but they spared no expense when it came to partying at night. This crew really took advantage of every hour of Bike Week, and seemed to have perfected the fine art of "functional alcoholism".
The parking lot was a hub of activity 24 hours-a-day and looked like a new (gangsta) car lot. Every car was brand new, just washed, and had the shiniest rims I had ever seen. I saw lowered Suburbans and jacked up Impalas. It was spectacular.
All day and all night the hum of a motor harmonized with our own music and conversations. Fox learned the word "bike" and the differences between a Harley and a Ninja. He made friends with so many over-sized, burley men dressed in leather; he is going to think that that is what angels look like. Every time we were in the elevator or at the pool, some huge man with a bottle of the most expensive bottle of liquor would chat with Fox and I, and end up making silly faces and noises to amuse Fox. He is absolutely going to have a positive impression of leather clad bikers.
The beach was beautiful and the weather was nice. Most of the week it was so windy that Fox wasn't able to spend too much time on the beach without being sandblasted. He doesn't yet have the sense to cover his eyes when the wind blows, so it was traumatizing at first. Covering his face and ears with a beach towel didn't help his perception of the experience..
Fox and I spent most of our time at the baby water park which consisted of two baby pools with fountains, a "lazy river", and an ice cold regular pool. There were tons of kids to look at, and the place was fenced in so even if he bolted, he would never make it to the bike lot. My biggest fear was that Fox would touch one of those bikes and they would start falling like dominoes. Then he would have to redeem himself by wearing platforms and dancing on a bar while singing that tequilla song.
Fox loved splashing around in the shallow pools and playing with all of the unattended toys other kids brought. It is amazing how worn out he was after playing in the pool in the sun. It was also amazing that despite the fact that there wasn't an exterior window in our bedroom Fox still managed to wake up before 7am every day. Heather's mom and sister-in-law were kind enough to stay in the condo while Fox napped a couple of times so Heather and I were able to spend some time together at the beach. Heather is expecting a baby in July and it might be ages before we are able to lay around on the beach together again! It is really tough having a little baby or toddler on vacation. I'm not sure how enjoyable it is for a child to be in that environment. I could imagine that the sun, the bikes, the excitement, and the weather could be disruptive and confusing for a child, but hopefully the experiences will provide some happy childhood memory to recollect.
After the trip Fox and I spent a few nights in Asheville with mom and dad. We went to a graduation party and saw a bunch of folks I grew up with and spent some time with my other best friend, Sonja who is also preggo. We hiked around our friend's house in Fairview, and we saw a huge black snake that Jason picked up. I will post the picture I took as soon as I upload it.
The Harley Bike week brings in a range of bikers: from near homeless, toothless drunks with mile-long beards to white collar drunks who own primary Harley's, secondary Harley's and emergency stand-in Harley's.
The Harley rainbow shines to the tunes of Santana, Skynard, and Steely Dan, closing the breadth of the gamut with Jimmy Buffet.
The Atlantic Bike week brings a much younger, thinner, and more active crowd. Imported bikes dominated the scene; these bikers were big and scary just like the Harley variety, but they spared no expense when it came to partying at night. This crew really took advantage of every hour of Bike Week, and seemed to have perfected the fine art of "functional alcoholism".
The parking lot was a hub of activity 24 hours-a-day and looked like a new (gangsta) car lot. Every car was brand new, just washed, and had the shiniest rims I had ever seen. I saw lowered Suburbans and jacked up Impalas. It was spectacular.
All day and all night the hum of a motor harmonized with our own music and conversations. Fox learned the word "bike" and the differences between a Harley and a Ninja. He made friends with so many over-sized, burley men dressed in leather; he is going to think that that is what angels look like. Every time we were in the elevator or at the pool, some huge man with a bottle of the most expensive bottle of liquor would chat with Fox and I, and end up making silly faces and noises to amuse Fox. He is absolutely going to have a positive impression of leather clad bikers.
The beach was beautiful and the weather was nice. Most of the week it was so windy that Fox wasn't able to spend too much time on the beach without being sandblasted. He doesn't yet have the sense to cover his eyes when the wind blows, so it was traumatizing at first. Covering his face and ears with a beach towel didn't help his perception of the experience..
Fox and I spent most of our time at the baby water park which consisted of two baby pools with fountains, a "lazy river", and an ice cold regular pool. There were tons of kids to look at, and the place was fenced in so even if he bolted, he would never make it to the bike lot. My biggest fear was that Fox would touch one of those bikes and they would start falling like dominoes. Then he would have to redeem himself by wearing platforms and dancing on a bar while singing that tequilla song.
Fox loved splashing around in the shallow pools and playing with all of the unattended toys other kids brought. It is amazing how worn out he was after playing in the pool in the sun. It was also amazing that despite the fact that there wasn't an exterior window in our bedroom Fox still managed to wake up before 7am every day. Heather's mom and sister-in-law were kind enough to stay in the condo while Fox napped a couple of times so Heather and I were able to spend some time together at the beach. Heather is expecting a baby in July and it might be ages before we are able to lay around on the beach together again! It is really tough having a little baby or toddler on vacation. I'm not sure how enjoyable it is for a child to be in that environment. I could imagine that the sun, the bikes, the excitement, and the weather could be disruptive and confusing for a child, but hopefully the experiences will provide some happy childhood memory to recollect.
After the trip Fox and I spent a few nights in Asheville with mom and dad. We went to a graduation party and saw a bunch of folks I grew up with and spent some time with my other best friend, Sonja who is also preggo. We hiked around our friend's house in Fairview, and we saw a huge black snake that Jason picked up. I will post the picture I took as soon as I upload it.
5/15/2008 Wizard Hat Attack
Last weekend I had a booth at a super cool South Knoxville celebration called Vestival. The week before I was busting my ass sewing sun dresses by the dozen when my neighbor, Lee showed up at the door. He seemed to be stopping by just to say hi, but as soon as he saw that I had sewing stuff in my hand he began some bizarre "pitch" regarding his own invention, The Wizard Hat.
"Oh yeah man I've done sold three or four uh these hats to my buddies, I've just gotta make em sall"
Lee showed me his prototype Wizard Hat which he had safety pinned together "sows I can take it partn copy the pattern and make a whole bunch uv um".
The pattern consisted of a piece of brightly colored, printed fabric with repeating rainbows, fairies, and butterflies folded in half, then cut at an 60 degree angle and pinned together. The result was a cross between a klan member's hood and a dunce hat. Oh yeah. And it was lined with a cut off sweat pant leg because "it's sumthin you can wear all year long", explained Lee. I thought, "yeah, all year starting after the next ice age". "They's clean sweats!" He added. Whenever someone assures me of something's cleanliness I can't help but doubt.
I agreed to try to sew the seam in Lees sample hat, but explained that I was very busy with my own projects, and that I am unable to work when Fox is awake. That means that I have around three work hours each day. Lee said, "whenever you gettaroun to it. How about I cut out the patterns an yew sew em an you can sell em at that festival for $10 a piece and split the profit?"
Again, I told Lee that as irresistible of an offer that was, I had more projects of my own than I have time to finish as it is but I would try to sew up his sample.
The next morning around 9:15 Lee knocked on my door with a big, plastic WalMart bag full of fabric and sweat pant legs.
"Oh Shit", I thought. He was in a hurry and explained that the fabric inside the bag was for the hats I was going to make.
The fabric was cheap-o Walmart stuff, and there were three types. Camo, rainbow, and purple skull and crossbone. Hurriedly Lee described another Wizard Hat he had made with "puff balls and a whistle at the end". I was imagining a camo Wizard hat with those adornments and remarking about how bad it looked in my mind when I reminded Lee that I had plenty to do to get ready for the weekend. Offended, he said "You'd sell more uh these hats than THEM dresses!" I told him that he might be right, but making dresses was my thing, NOT making wizard hats that make a person look like an ass hole. He turned around and left leaving the bag with me.
The next night I had a couple of folks over to eat supper with me and as sure as Christ died, Lee nonchalantly arrived and asked me for a col'beer. I had already told my friends about the Wizard Hat Attack, so when Lee brought it up Emily suggested that he sew his own damn hats. Lee replied "Hell no I ain't gonna do that shit; SHE is" (pointing to me). Emily proceeded to tell him all of the many reasons why it didn't make sense for me to produce his hats, and gradually he began lightening up about it.
He drank about six beers that night that my friends had brought, and he didn't talk to me for a couple of days afterwards, but eventually he came around.
I still have that horrific bag of fabric and I can't decide how to return it to him without salting the wound. I am going to the beach next week and feel like I should return it before I go. Any ideas?
"Oh yeah man I've done sold three or four uh these hats to my buddies, I've just gotta make em sall"
Lee showed me his prototype Wizard Hat which he had safety pinned together "sows I can take it partn copy the pattern and make a whole bunch uv um".
The pattern consisted of a piece of brightly colored, printed fabric with repeating rainbows, fairies, and butterflies folded in half, then cut at an 60 degree angle and pinned together. The result was a cross between a klan member's hood and a dunce hat. Oh yeah. And it was lined with a cut off sweat pant leg because "it's sumthin you can wear all year long", explained Lee. I thought, "yeah, all year starting after the next ice age". "They's clean sweats!" He added. Whenever someone assures me of something's cleanliness I can't help but doubt.
I agreed to try to sew the seam in Lees sample hat, but explained that I was very busy with my own projects, and that I am unable to work when Fox is awake. That means that I have around three work hours each day. Lee said, "whenever you gettaroun to it. How about I cut out the patterns an yew sew em an you can sell em at that festival for $10 a piece and split the profit?"
Again, I told Lee that as irresistible of an offer that was, I had more projects of my own than I have time to finish as it is but I would try to sew up his sample.
The next morning around 9:15 Lee knocked on my door with a big, plastic WalMart bag full of fabric and sweat pant legs.
"Oh Shit", I thought. He was in a hurry and explained that the fabric inside the bag was for the hats I was going to make.
The fabric was cheap-o Walmart stuff, and there were three types. Camo, rainbow, and purple skull and crossbone. Hurriedly Lee described another Wizard Hat he had made with "puff balls and a whistle at the end". I was imagining a camo Wizard hat with those adornments and remarking about how bad it looked in my mind when I reminded Lee that I had plenty to do to get ready for the weekend. Offended, he said "You'd sell more uh these hats than THEM dresses!" I told him that he might be right, but making dresses was my thing, NOT making wizard hats that make a person look like an ass hole. He turned around and left leaving the bag with me.
The next night I had a couple of folks over to eat supper with me and as sure as Christ died, Lee nonchalantly arrived and asked me for a col'beer. I had already told my friends about the Wizard Hat Attack, so when Lee brought it up Emily suggested that he sew his own damn hats. Lee replied "Hell no I ain't gonna do that shit; SHE is" (pointing to me). Emily proceeded to tell him all of the many reasons why it didn't make sense for me to produce his hats, and gradually he began lightening up about it.
He drank about six beers that night that my friends had brought, and he didn't talk to me for a couple of days afterwards, but eventually he came around.
I still have that horrific bag of fabric and I can't decide how to return it to him without salting the wound. I am going to the beach next week and feel like I should return it before I go. Any ideas?
5/13/2008 Cloth Diapers
Nothing disgusts me anymore.
Using cloth diapers has desensitized me to the point that I no longer remember feeling sickened by thoughts of toilets, roadkill or vomit. Every day Fox wears 8-10 diapers, and at least 3 of them are really, really gross. I have a strict procedure in dealing with these gems which involves three stages of washing.
First the entire mess gets thrown into the toilet where it stays for thirty minutes or so; just long enough to forget about it. (it is most disturbing for guests who happen upon these when visiting our restroom)
Second they are transported into a "diaper bin" which is an airtight storage container, and a solution of borax and hot water is poured on top of it.
Finally, the container of filthious diapers is laundered in hot water, borax, baking soda and a little bit of detergent, then rinsed twice in hot water.
We have enough diapers that I only have to wash diapers once a week, so thats just one extra load of laundry, making the grand total of numbers of loads of laundry I do per week 2 loads. Whenever you hear someone knocking cloth diapers from an 'ecological' standpoint by saying things like "It is better to use natural disposable diapers than using cloth ones because of all of the extra water you use to wash them...", just know that they are only saying that to convince themselves. It is simply not true; disposable diapers, be they pampers, huggies, or seventh generation unbleached organic eco-bottoms (or whatever), end up in the landfill.
I have been intimate with my son's excrement for so long now that I am not phased by it at all. My process is streamlined in such a way that I am rarely inconvenienced by it, and whenever I must buy disposable diapers for travel or swimming, I feel annoyed.
It's sorta nice being un-gross-outable. Being insusceptible to foul displays increases my resilience to little boys' pranks and I think that will really come in handy one day. I will have Fox to thank and to punish.
The worst thing about cloth diapers has nothing to do with the crap in which they carry, but in the folding and putting away once they're cleaned.
Using cloth diapers has desensitized me to the point that I no longer remember feeling sickened by thoughts of toilets, roadkill or vomit. Every day Fox wears 8-10 diapers, and at least 3 of them are really, really gross. I have a strict procedure in dealing with these gems which involves three stages of washing.
First the entire mess gets thrown into the toilet where it stays for thirty minutes or so; just long enough to forget about it. (it is most disturbing for guests who happen upon these when visiting our restroom)
Second they are transported into a "diaper bin" which is an airtight storage container, and a solution of borax and hot water is poured on top of it.
Finally, the container of filthious diapers is laundered in hot water, borax, baking soda and a little bit of detergent, then rinsed twice in hot water.
We have enough diapers that I only have to wash diapers once a week, so thats just one extra load of laundry, making the grand total of numbers of loads of laundry I do per week 2 loads. Whenever you hear someone knocking cloth diapers from an 'ecological' standpoint by saying things like "It is better to use natural disposable diapers than using cloth ones because of all of the extra water you use to wash them...", just know that they are only saying that to convince themselves. It is simply not true; disposable diapers, be they pampers, huggies, or seventh generation unbleached organic eco-bottoms (or whatever), end up in the landfill.
I have been intimate with my son's excrement for so long now that I am not phased by it at all. My process is streamlined in such a way that I am rarely inconvenienced by it, and whenever I must buy disposable diapers for travel or swimming, I feel annoyed.
It's sorta nice being un-gross-outable. Being insusceptible to foul displays increases my resilience to little boys' pranks and I think that will really come in handy one day. I will have Fox to thank and to punish.
The worst thing about cloth diapers has nothing to do with the crap in which they carry, but in the folding and putting away once they're cleaned.
5/12/2008 Craz’neabor
Wow! I have been so busy lately I am getting blog build up. My mind is becoming crammed with useless stories and events of the past two weeks. I guess the first thing I meant to write about but didn't happened the weekend before last.
We had gone to Asheville for Heather's shower and when we returned to Knoxville Sunday afternoon, we quickly unloaded our truck and grabbed a few things for Fox, then headed up the street to Dan and Adrenne's for supper. As soon as we got outside ready to depart, Lee was standing there, already talking and gesturing wildly. He was drunk. It was 6:15pm. Lee wanted to talk to Fox (who he addresses as "Red Rider"), talk to Jason about "the game", and ask us why we didn't tell him we were leaving town for the weekend. He insisted that he needed to know if we were going to be gone so he doesn't worry that we're "dead in there" or something.
After a million quick answers and replies to his questions, we started up the road. Just when we were home free, Lee hollered "Hay man Jason gimme a col'beer fore yuh go". Jason lamented that he had none, and I offered him a half bottle of Australian wine I was taking to Dan and Adrienne's. He accepted it and retreated back into his house.
The next morning I went outside to put some mail in the box and found the wine, along with a pan of biscuits with jam and a note on my porch. Knowing it was going to be hilarious I took the items back into my house before I read the note.
This is what the note says if you cannot read it:
" Jill- Nebor [smiley face smoking cigarette] (red-ride'r)
&Gosh! I schould'nt of got'on, your dinner wine & I was buszzed, when you'all came-n-an, Jason kame by & sorry I guess moonshine make's us stuped. Try a bisket, butter, appel gelly.
Craz'neabor
Rainbow
warrior! "
The biscuits were in a pan wrapped in a clean dish towel and there was a perfectly square pat of butter placed in the center of each round. The jelly was in a nice little jar like the kind you find at the farmers market. I was impressed because the biscuits were absolutely perfect, just like my GG used to make. Fox and I ate them for lunch with some soup I had fixed the night before.
We went over to thank Lee later that afternoon and we found him hard at work duct taping zip-lock baggies full of water to the top of his door jamb. Afraid to ask, I started out by thanking Lee for the biscuits and explaining to him that he didn't have to feel bad or apologize for the night before, and that we like sharing with him as much as he likes sharing with us.
He said "Hell! I know! Yall er good ole neighbors and I preciate'chall, but I shouldn't uh come up ere askin yall for booze when I was already drunk off moonshine. I'd been drinkin it all day long!"
Certain of that fact, I thanked him for the delicious biscuits and told him that they were just like my great grandma made, and he yelled "she put beer in em too?!".
I was making my way back to my house when Lee decided to explain the operation which occupied him.
"I wuz down in Florida with a friend an we went to one uh these open pit seafood joints that cooked over a fire pit. There weren't no walls or nothin; it wuz just a shelter with a roof an we noticed all these bags a water hangin from the beams an we asked what they wuz for and they said it wuz to keep the flies out. There wudn't a fly or mosquito in that place! Not one!"
I asked him how it worked and he said "It's somethin bout their eyes. They get close to these bags a water and it makes em go crazy".
Later that week Jason's folks came and spent the night with us, and Jason and I went on a walk after Fox went to sleep. Lee spotted us and hollered for us to come over, so we went into the little house and chatted. Lee said a friend of his had left town and given him some steaks, so he gave us a big bag of frozen meat.
I looked around and noticed that there were at least 10 flies in the house. Maybe they were already in the house when he taped up those baggies and were unable to go out.
We had gone to Asheville for Heather's shower and when we returned to Knoxville Sunday afternoon, we quickly unloaded our truck and grabbed a few things for Fox, then headed up the street to Dan and Adrenne's for supper. As soon as we got outside ready to depart, Lee was standing there, already talking and gesturing wildly. He was drunk. It was 6:15pm. Lee wanted to talk to Fox (who he addresses as "Red Rider"), talk to Jason about "the game", and ask us why we didn't tell him we were leaving town for the weekend. He insisted that he needed to know if we were going to be gone so he doesn't worry that we're "dead in there" or something.
After a million quick answers and replies to his questions, we started up the road. Just when we were home free, Lee hollered "Hay man Jason gimme a col'beer fore yuh go". Jason lamented that he had none, and I offered him a half bottle of Australian wine I was taking to Dan and Adrienne's. He accepted it and retreated back into his house.
The next morning I went outside to put some mail in the box and found the wine, along with a pan of biscuits with jam and a note on my porch. Knowing it was going to be hilarious I took the items back into my house before I read the note.
This is what the note says if you cannot read it:
" Jill- Nebor [smiley face smoking cigarette] (red-ride'r)
&Gosh! I schould'nt of got'on, your dinner wine & I was buszzed, when you'all came-n-an, Jason kame by & sorry I guess moonshine make's us stuped. Try a bisket, butter, appel gelly.
Craz'neabor
Rainbow
warrior! "
The biscuits were in a pan wrapped in a clean dish towel and there was a perfectly square pat of butter placed in the center of each round. The jelly was in a nice little jar like the kind you find at the farmers market. I was impressed because the biscuits were absolutely perfect, just like my GG used to make. Fox and I ate them for lunch with some soup I had fixed the night before.
We went over to thank Lee later that afternoon and we found him hard at work duct taping zip-lock baggies full of water to the top of his door jamb. Afraid to ask, I started out by thanking Lee for the biscuits and explaining to him that he didn't have to feel bad or apologize for the night before, and that we like sharing with him as much as he likes sharing with us.
He said "Hell! I know! Yall er good ole neighbors and I preciate'chall, but I shouldn't uh come up ere askin yall for booze when I was already drunk off moonshine. I'd been drinkin it all day long!"
Certain of that fact, I thanked him for the delicious biscuits and told him that they were just like my great grandma made, and he yelled "she put beer in em too?!".
I was making my way back to my house when Lee decided to explain the operation which occupied him.
"I wuz down in Florida with a friend an we went to one uh these open pit seafood joints that cooked over a fire pit. There weren't no walls or nothin; it wuz just a shelter with a roof an we noticed all these bags a water hangin from the beams an we asked what they wuz for and they said it wuz to keep the flies out. There wudn't a fly or mosquito in that place! Not one!"
I asked him how it worked and he said "It's somethin bout their eyes. They get close to these bags a water and it makes em go crazy".
Later that week Jason's folks came and spent the night with us, and Jason and I went on a walk after Fox went to sleep. Lee spotted us and hollered for us to come over, so we went into the little house and chatted. Lee said a friend of his had left town and given him some steaks, so he gave us a big bag of frozen meat.
I looked around and noticed that there were at least 10 flies in the house. Maybe they were already in the house when he taped up those baggies and were unable to go out.
5/1/2008 Root Ball
When we arrived in Asheville Friday for Heather's shower we stayed at Jason's parent's house in Haw Creek. After a month of exclusive adult/baby contact I was itching to go somewhere and do something non-baby related for a few hours. After hanging out with the Robinsons for a while Jason, Cassie and I decided to go to the Root Bar, a one of a kind drinking establishment named for a game invented by the founders. The "back yard" of the bar is a fenced in, sand covered expanse with three Root Ball courses. The game is a cross between horse shoes and bacci ball, except that you toss a ring, and then toss a ball at the ring, or the stake. Everyone removes their shoes and meanders around, sloshing pints of beer ; It's great fun! The root bar is the fourth closest bar to my house in Asheville. We can't go to Rascals because we all got kicked out after Kelly and Heidi's wedding, we can't go to Ruby's because we are boycotting it, and we can't go to Norton's because thats where my Drunkle Charles lives. For the time being the Root Bar is our "neighborhood pub".
Jason had never been there so he was immediately skeptical about the place. We bought beers and made our way to the back yard, as far away from the other patrons as possible. Jason and Cassie chatted together, catching up on her work and the current events of Harlan County KY, and Jason spiraled into a pit of unhappiness brought on by trying to provide answers to the world's problems in twenty minutes or less. I was determined to enjoy myself and ignore Jason's misery for that evening, and I started chatting with this pleasant fellow who had ska-danced over to our outpost.
This guy was all smiles and wanted to share a story with us regarding his residence in Maui. It went something like this:
"I used to live in Maui for, like six years with a bunch of other beautiful people and it was Awwwwesome! We just lived on the beach and ate fruit and loved. One night we all did this Hopi Sweat Ritual where you eat a bunch of mushrooms and get inside a tee-pee with a hot fire burning and you sweat all of the negative energy out of your body. Totally Killer! We had been there for hours and we had all stripped down and were tripping soo hard! It felt like we were dying, but as soon as we got out it was like a new life, and we weren't tired anymore! It was the most AWESOME feeling ever, so there were, like, 10 of us, all shapes and sizes, all beautiful people, naked on the beach, running around and jumping in the ocean. It was the best feeling ever swimming in the ocean after being so hot!
We stayed on the beach and fell asleep, and when we woke up it was because a huge bus was parking at the edge of the beach and, like, 40 old, white people were pouring out of it and coming towards us. When they got up close to us we thought they were going to call the police or something but you know what they did? They stripped down and started running around having fun, too!"
The fellow then asked if we wanted to play Root Ball, which Cassie and I did but couldn't quite rouse Jason, even after hearing that amazingly enlightening story.
I told our new friend that we would play with him in 5 minutes, or after we extinguished our cigarettes and bought new beers etc.. He went back inside and I didn't see him again for about 45 minutes, when I saw him emerge from the pub with our friend, Don. Jason was still busy outlining the world's problems so I went over and greeted Don and finally introduced myself to the nudist, Jacob. Don was fired up to play and with his incentive we were able to rescue Jason from his pit of dispair. Don is one of those people who I wouldn't describe as a particularly "happy" person, but whenever he is around he instills others with happiness.
We started playing the game after a brief instructional from Don. The temperature had dropped so Jason had gone to the car to get some jackets for he and Cassie. Jason had to wear my teal down parka and it was so funny! The waist had elastic and it was really high up, and the sleeves were three quarter sleeves on him. AND it was bright teal. I only wish I had gotten a picture. It lightened the mood of the evening even more seeing Jason seriously playing the game in that coat.
It was boys versus girls and the score remained close for the first half of the game. Then Jason and Don started whopping up on us, and then this throw happened:
That is Don consulting with Jacob about a rare toss. Cassie ingeniously named it the NeuvoRing. Needless to say the boys won the game.
Jason had never been there so he was immediately skeptical about the place. We bought beers and made our way to the back yard, as far away from the other patrons as possible. Jason and Cassie chatted together, catching up on her work and the current events of Harlan County KY, and Jason spiraled into a pit of unhappiness brought on by trying to provide answers to the world's problems in twenty minutes or less. I was determined to enjoy myself and ignore Jason's misery for that evening, and I started chatting with this pleasant fellow who had ska-danced over to our outpost.
This guy was all smiles and wanted to share a story with us regarding his residence in Maui. It went something like this:
"I used to live in Maui for, like six years with a bunch of other beautiful people and it was Awwwwesome! We just lived on the beach and ate fruit and loved. One night we all did this Hopi Sweat Ritual where you eat a bunch of mushrooms and get inside a tee-pee with a hot fire burning and you sweat all of the negative energy out of your body. Totally Killer! We had been there for hours and we had all stripped down and were tripping soo hard! It felt like we were dying, but as soon as we got out it was like a new life, and we weren't tired anymore! It was the most AWESOME feeling ever, so there were, like, 10 of us, all shapes and sizes, all beautiful people, naked on the beach, running around and jumping in the ocean. It was the best feeling ever swimming in the ocean after being so hot!
We stayed on the beach and fell asleep, and when we woke up it was because a huge bus was parking at the edge of the beach and, like, 40 old, white people were pouring out of it and coming towards us. When they got up close to us we thought they were going to call the police or something but you know what they did? They stripped down and started running around having fun, too!"
The fellow then asked if we wanted to play Root Ball, which Cassie and I did but couldn't quite rouse Jason, even after hearing that amazingly enlightening story.
I told our new friend that we would play with him in 5 minutes, or after we extinguished our cigarettes and bought new beers etc.. He went back inside and I didn't see him again for about 45 minutes, when I saw him emerge from the pub with our friend, Don. Jason was still busy outlining the world's problems so I went over and greeted Don and finally introduced myself to the nudist, Jacob. Don was fired up to play and with his incentive we were able to rescue Jason from his pit of dispair. Don is one of those people who I wouldn't describe as a particularly "happy" person, but whenever he is around he instills others with happiness.
We started playing the game after a brief instructional from Don. The temperature had dropped so Jason had gone to the car to get some jackets for he and Cassie. Jason had to wear my teal down parka and it was so funny! The waist had elastic and it was really high up, and the sleeves were three quarter sleeves on him. AND it was bright teal. I only wish I had gotten a picture. It lightened the mood of the evening even more seeing Jason seriously playing the game in that coat.
It was boys versus girls and the score remained close for the first half of the game. Then Jason and Don started whopping up on us, and then this throw happened:
That is Don consulting with Jacob about a rare toss. Cassie ingeniously named it the NeuvoRing. Needless to say the boys won the game.
4/30/2008 Guitar Hero
This weekend we went to Asheville to go to Heather and Josh's baby shower. Heather's friend Rachel had the party at her house in Oakley, and the weather was beautiful so we spent lots of time on the porch.
After opening the adorable, fleecy gifts, heather and Josh brought their "Guitar Hero" control in from the car to join with Rachel's for duo playing. People would go into the house two by two and play the game. A guy there named Greg had the hilarious idea of "Sitar Hero", but we decided it wouldn't do well in the United States. "Banjo Hero", "Mandolin Hero" or "Dobro Hero" might do well regionally.
I finally answered the siren song of "Guitar Hero" and went inside to play. The last times I had played the game I was really bad and it sounded like my character was playing a tin can, but this time I was able to get through a few songs without getting booed off stage. I became obsessed and played 20 times in a row; I played until I had a blister on my thumb from "strumming", and the posters appeared to be melting off the wall.
After opening the adorable, fleecy gifts, heather and Josh brought their "Guitar Hero" control in from the car to join with Rachel's for duo playing. People would go into the house two by two and play the game. A guy there named Greg had the hilarious idea of "Sitar Hero", but we decided it wouldn't do well in the United States. "Banjo Hero", "Mandolin Hero" or "Dobro Hero" might do well regionally.
I finally answered the siren song of "Guitar Hero" and went inside to play. The last times I had played the game I was really bad and it sounded like my character was playing a tin can, but this time I was able to get through a few songs without getting booed off stage. I became obsessed and played 20 times in a row; I played until I had a blister on my thumb from "strumming", and the posters appeared to be melting off the wall.
4/24/2008 Compassionate-Lee
Last night Jason, Fox and I went to the Mellow Mushroom with his GIS class and ate pizza. Earlier in the day Lee had mentioned wanting to "get up with my old man" about something, and I told him that Mondays and Wednesdays were his late days.
Right when I pulled the car into the driveway, there was Lee. Since Jason had been at school all day long and I had met him in town we were in two cars. When I exited the car Lee said "hey girl come 'ere for a minute; i've got somethin for ya".
Curious as all hell, I grabbed Fox's hand and headed across the street to Lee's. He went inside and came out with a plate. A plate of ...........
fried shrimp! Naturally!
Jason had pulled in the driveway and was coming towards Lee, Fox, the plate of shrimp and I, and the look on his face was priceless! Such confusion.
I guess shrimp isn't such a strange gift, but something about it coming from Lee is strange. Plus I know he doesn't have tons of money. The other night when Brad and Kelly were here I was going to the store before it got too late and Jason asked me to pick up some beer for the four of them, and Lee said "shit man I ain't got but eight dollar!" Then more reluctantly he suggested, "I guess I can throw in a buck". We all broke out in laughter, uninhibited. A dollars worth of beer; That's just funny. Plus we would give Lee all the beer just to keep him hanging around. Whenever he comes over we offer him food and drinks, but usually he "just ate".
If we lived a few blocks away from the ocean a gift of shrimp would make total sense coming from Lee. He would be the strange old guy who bicycled to the bridge over the intercoastal waterway and fished every day, bringing with him a cooler bungeed to the bike frame.
One thing about Lee is that he is resourceful. Shrimp just isn't a resource here.
Right when I pulled the car into the driveway, there was Lee. Since Jason had been at school all day long and I had met him in town we were in two cars. When I exited the car Lee said "hey girl come 'ere for a minute; i've got somethin for ya".
Curious as all hell, I grabbed Fox's hand and headed across the street to Lee's. He went inside and came out with a plate. A plate of ...........
fried shrimp! Naturally!
Jason had pulled in the driveway and was coming towards Lee, Fox, the plate of shrimp and I, and the look on his face was priceless! Such confusion.
I guess shrimp isn't such a strange gift, but something about it coming from Lee is strange. Plus I know he doesn't have tons of money. The other night when Brad and Kelly were here I was going to the store before it got too late and Jason asked me to pick up some beer for the four of them, and Lee said "shit man I ain't got but eight dollar!" Then more reluctantly he suggested, "I guess I can throw in a buck". We all broke out in laughter, uninhibited. A dollars worth of beer; That's just funny. Plus we would give Lee all the beer just to keep him hanging around. Whenever he comes over we offer him food and drinks, but usually he "just ate".
If we lived a few blocks away from the ocean a gift of shrimp would make total sense coming from Lee. He would be the strange old guy who bicycled to the bridge over the intercoastal waterway and fished every day, bringing with him a cooler bungeed to the bike frame.
One thing about Lee is that he is resourceful. Shrimp just isn't a resource here.
4/24/2008 No Kidding!
My best friends Heather and Josh are expecting a baby girl in July. Last week while I was in Asheville I hung out with the two of them and played Guitar Hero for the first time. Regarding Guitar Hero: believe the hype. It is the coolest music game ever. It even beats Donkey Conga and Parappa the Rapper.
Heather had just had an ultrasound and I noticed a framed GE medical photo and figured it was little Ella. I was shocked when I examined the picture:
I laughed and asked where the picture came from; figuring it was something Josh found on the internet.He and Heather spent the next 45 minutes convincing me that it was an authentic ultrasound image of their girl.
Heather said the ultrasound tech was a really cool lady who clearly loved her job. Once during an ultrasound the lady tech asked Heather; "So, do you think that THEY think?" and she was the first to verbally declare their unborn girl a bad ass rocker.
Everyone already knew that Heather and Josh could only yield a cool kid; this just confirms it and prepares us.
Heather had just had an ultrasound and I noticed a framed GE medical photo and figured it was little Ella. I was shocked when I examined the picture:
I laughed and asked where the picture came from; figuring it was something Josh found on the internet.He and Heather spent the next 45 minutes convincing me that it was an authentic ultrasound image of their girl.
Heather said the ultrasound tech was a really cool lady who clearly loved her job. Once during an ultrasound the lady tech asked Heather; "So, do you think that THEY think?" and she was the first to verbally declare their unborn girl a bad ass rocker.
Everyone already knew that Heather and Josh could only yield a cool kid; this just confirms it and prepares us.
4/22/2008 Final-Lee
This is the moment you have been waiting for since you first read of my wacky neighbor Lee.
That's right;
a portrait of Lee with his creation: The Lee-Z-Rider
I am sure you are in a state of shock after finally having an image to match with the lore; PLUS you are forced to confront the reality that Lee is a real man that I did NOT invent. It takes very little creativity to make Lee oriented blogs interesting, in fact they practically write themselves.
Last weekend my brother and our friend Brad visited us here in Knoxville. Brad always reads my blog and comments on them and has expressed his excitement about meeting Lee. Saturday night Brad's mind got blown, Lee style.
Lee approached our house on his usual, spiraling path and joined us on our front porch. After presenting me with a promotional CD with a huge "FREE" sticker on the top, he helped himself to a beer from the cooler.
He and Brad acquainted themselves with each other and before I knew it Lee was addressing Brad as "Clyde" which I have deciphered is a term of endearment Lee uses. He described to Brad the conditions which led to his piloting career in the air force at age 15, how he rode on the outside of a jet airplane into the earth's atmosphere till he was covered in ice, and how he possessed the power to dance a special dance and become invisible.
Brad remained engaged in conversation with Lee and I watched his face during the particularly wild statements: -his Cherokee name is Dances With Wolves, he's worth 8 million, he's going to buy his butler a Corvette, etc.... He was on the verge of a laugh explosion, and I was beginning to suspect that I hadn't explained "Lee" enough to my brother, who doesn't read my weblog and might not have really understood the extremity of his stories. They were asking lots of questions about times, ages and situations and as Lee explained himself his responses became louder and louder. I tried giving them the "hush" eye before they were unleashed upon, but luckily the conversation shifted and Lee went back home to get his peace pipe. I used this intermission to brief Kelly about Lee's ramblings, and recommended that he not ask too many questions, and try thinking about something tragic like hurricane Katrina to avoid bursting out into laughter.
He came back with a rock with a hole bored out of it and the tube from a ballpoint pen shoved into it. Lee told us that it was a ceremonial medicine pipe and he wanted us to smoke it and receive a blessing from him that we never have nightmares. We asked what he intended to put into the pipe, and he said it was herbs mixed with tobacco; "there ain't no PCP or powder or nothin in there if that's what your thinkin". Frankly, I didn't see any way to NOT smoke the pipe. I was praying that everyone else would smoke it too and we would all avoid actually inhaling the smoke.
We smoked with Lee and then got out the instruments and started playing. Between each break in music Lee urged us to listen to the CD he had brought over which was playing in the house because he sang in tracks 4, 12 and 14. "Listen!" He commanded, "That's me singing that low note!" It was so weird! We didn't want to piss him off bit it was barely audible on the front porch, and no one really wanted to go in the house to listen to some random CD.
A truck pulled up and it was our friend, Randal being dropped off by his activist friends after going to a meeting. For a minute I was afraid the hippie girls would exit the truck and want to talk and become alarmed when confronted with Lee's jive. They ended up just yelling something from the truck and going on their way, and Randy went to bed.
That's when Lee departed for the evening.
I took these pictures yesterday after Fox saw Lee out the window and yelled "LEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!, LEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!" over and over about 40 times. We walked over to Lee's yard where he was chatting with our other neighbor, Karen. Native American flute music blared from his open door. Fox really likes Lee. The Lee-Z-Rider was constructed with a chainsaw motor and a mini keg as a gas tank. He insists it is safe enough for the 10 year old who he is going to give it to, explaining; "my friend's son is autistic and other kids make fun of 'em callin him Harry Potter n stuff; but after he gets this thing those kids wont say NOTHIN".
That I agree with.
That's right;
a portrait of Lee with his creation: The Lee-Z-Rider
I am sure you are in a state of shock after finally having an image to match with the lore; PLUS you are forced to confront the reality that Lee is a real man that I did NOT invent. It takes very little creativity to make Lee oriented blogs interesting, in fact they practically write themselves.
Last weekend my brother and our friend Brad visited us here in Knoxville. Brad always reads my blog and comments on them and has expressed his excitement about meeting Lee. Saturday night Brad's mind got blown, Lee style.
Lee approached our house on his usual, spiraling path and joined us on our front porch. After presenting me with a promotional CD with a huge "FREE" sticker on the top, he helped himself to a beer from the cooler.
He and Brad acquainted themselves with each other and before I knew it Lee was addressing Brad as "Clyde" which I have deciphered is a term of endearment Lee uses. He described to Brad the conditions which led to his piloting career in the air force at age 15, how he rode on the outside of a jet airplane into the earth's atmosphere till he was covered in ice, and how he possessed the power to dance a special dance and become invisible.
Brad remained engaged in conversation with Lee and I watched his face during the particularly wild statements: -his Cherokee name is Dances With Wolves, he's worth 8 million, he's going to buy his butler a Corvette, etc.... He was on the verge of a laugh explosion, and I was beginning to suspect that I hadn't explained "Lee" enough to my brother, who doesn't read my weblog and might not have really understood the extremity of his stories. They were asking lots of questions about times, ages and situations and as Lee explained himself his responses became louder and louder. I tried giving them the "hush" eye before they were unleashed upon, but luckily the conversation shifted and Lee went back home to get his peace pipe. I used this intermission to brief Kelly about Lee's ramblings, and recommended that he not ask too many questions, and try thinking about something tragic like hurricane Katrina to avoid bursting out into laughter.
He came back with a rock with a hole bored out of it and the tube from a ballpoint pen shoved into it. Lee told us that it was a ceremonial medicine pipe and he wanted us to smoke it and receive a blessing from him that we never have nightmares. We asked what he intended to put into the pipe, and he said it was herbs mixed with tobacco; "there ain't no PCP or powder or nothin in there if that's what your thinkin". Frankly, I didn't see any way to NOT smoke the pipe. I was praying that everyone else would smoke it too and we would all avoid actually inhaling the smoke.
We smoked with Lee and then got out the instruments and started playing. Between each break in music Lee urged us to listen to the CD he had brought over which was playing in the house because he sang in tracks 4, 12 and 14. "Listen!" He commanded, "That's me singing that low note!" It was so weird! We didn't want to piss him off bit it was barely audible on the front porch, and no one really wanted to go in the house to listen to some random CD.
A truck pulled up and it was our friend, Randal being dropped off by his activist friends after going to a meeting. For a minute I was afraid the hippie girls would exit the truck and want to talk and become alarmed when confronted with Lee's jive. They ended up just yelling something from the truck and going on their way, and Randy went to bed.
That's when Lee departed for the evening.
I took these pictures yesterday after Fox saw Lee out the window and yelled "LEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!, LEEEEE-EEEEEEEE!" over and over about 40 times. We walked over to Lee's yard where he was chatting with our other neighbor, Karen. Native American flute music blared from his open door. Fox really likes Lee. The Lee-Z-Rider was constructed with a chainsaw motor and a mini keg as a gas tank. He insists it is safe enough for the 10 year old who he is going to give it to, explaining; "my friend's son is autistic and other kids make fun of 'em callin him Harry Potter n stuff; but after he gets this thing those kids wont say NOTHIN".
That I agree with.
4/20/2008 Morels Party Food
Friday night we had a cookout-get-together in celebration of my brother and friend's visit. Considering that we had gathered and eaten hundreds of morel mushrooms over the past week, and still had plenty, we thought it would be nice to prepare them for our guests. Morel purists insist on simple preparation including sauteing with onions and butter, but considering the number of people we had to feed, this method wouldn't provide anything more than a taste; I wanted to make something more substancial that wasn't just for novelty's sake.
After looking on the skinnard-net for a while, we decided on some certain ingredients which had been used repeatedly, but in dip form. This is what we came up with:
Morel cheese dip
small white onion chopped fine
one clove garlic chopped fine
4 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1.5 lb chopped morel mushrooms
2 cups chopped imitation crab meat (I know, I know. Sounds gross)
1 lb fresh wild (or store bought) asparagus spears
Saute onion and garlic in oil (or butter) till golden brown but not burnt.
Add mushrooms and cook till soft. Add a teaspoon of salt.
Stir in "crab" meat and stir around; then add chunks of cream cheese, stirring constantly till evenly mixed.
Pour into a casserole dish and top with parmesan cheese.
Cook in a pre heated, 325 degree oven for 35 minutes, or till the top is brown and bubbly. Serve with bagel chips, corn chips, or crackers.
This recipe was excellent and everyone identified the flavor of the morels. The imitation crab meat is kinda sweet, so it compliments the otherwise salty, savory mixture.
Yesterday evening after our guests had left, Jason and I decided to go over to the forks of the river park and look for more mushrooms. We found about 35 smallish ones and decided to make soup for supper. Here is the recipe:
Morel and butternut soup
1 lb butternut squash cut into small chunks.
1 lb morel mushrooms
1 small onion
3 tablespoons butter
1.5 lb asparagus spears cut into 1 inch pieces
two quarts chicken stock
3 tablespoons flour
.5 cup milk
1 tablespoon garlic powder
.5 teaspoon onion powder
.5 teaspoon white pepper
1 small habenero or scotch bonnet pepper
Again, saute onions in butter till golden, then add mushrooms and squash. Cover with a lid and allow to steam for 7 minutes or so.
Add onion and garlic powder, and white pepper, and chicken stock.
Simmer for 20 minutes till squash is really soft.
In a small bowl whisk flour into milk till smooth, and slowly pour into simmering soup. Use the whisk to stir mixture into soup, and smash some of the squash up into the broth. Throw in asparagus. Cover and reduce heat to low for 10 minutes or more.
Mince hot peppers and sprinkle on top of each bowl as they are served.
This soup was soooo delicious! The mushroom flavor is intensified with the boiling time, but sauteing them first makes the texture a little more firm.
After looking on the skinnard-net for a while, we decided on some certain ingredients which had been used repeatedly, but in dip form. This is what we came up with:
Morel cheese dip
small white onion chopped fine
one clove garlic chopped fine
4 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1.5 lb chopped morel mushrooms
2 cups chopped imitation crab meat (I know, I know. Sounds gross)
1 lb fresh wild (or store bought) asparagus spears
Saute onion and garlic in oil (or butter) till golden brown but not burnt.
Add mushrooms and cook till soft. Add a teaspoon of salt.
Stir in "crab" meat and stir around; then add chunks of cream cheese, stirring constantly till evenly mixed.
Pour into a casserole dish and top with parmesan cheese.
Cook in a pre heated, 325 degree oven for 35 minutes, or till the top is brown and bubbly. Serve with bagel chips, corn chips, or crackers.
This recipe was excellent and everyone identified the flavor of the morels. The imitation crab meat is kinda sweet, so it compliments the otherwise salty, savory mixture.
Yesterday evening after our guests had left, Jason and I decided to go over to the forks of the river park and look for more mushrooms. We found about 35 smallish ones and decided to make soup for supper. Here is the recipe:
Morel and butternut soup
1 lb butternut squash cut into small chunks.
1 lb morel mushrooms
1 small onion
3 tablespoons butter
1.5 lb asparagus spears cut into 1 inch pieces
two quarts chicken stock
3 tablespoons flour
.5 cup milk
1 tablespoon garlic powder
.5 teaspoon onion powder
.5 teaspoon white pepper
1 small habenero or scotch bonnet pepper
Again, saute onions in butter till golden, then add mushrooms and squash. Cover with a lid and allow to steam for 7 minutes or so.
Add onion and garlic powder, and white pepper, and chicken stock.
Simmer for 20 minutes till squash is really soft.
In a small bowl whisk flour into milk till smooth, and slowly pour into simmering soup. Use the whisk to stir mixture into soup, and smash some of the squash up into the broth. Throw in asparagus. Cover and reduce heat to low for 10 minutes or more.
Mince hot peppers and sprinkle on top of each bowl as they are served.
This soup was soooo delicious! The mushroom flavor is intensified with the boiling time, but sauteing them first makes the texture a little more firm.
4/15/2008 Dem Ol' Blooze
I just read Ishoowun of the comic "BLIND DUNHAM DIRTY" entitled "Dem Ole Blooze" by M.B Pope.
Not only are the illustrations rendered with truth and experience, but with an understanding of drunken benders that requires decades of real life experience. Characters are defined by negative space, darkness and gravity, elements which convince me of Dunham's futile quest for the root of his blooze,
and when the pages turn they moan like Screamin Jay Hawkins.
I highly recommend reading it, and it gets a 10 alarm rating on the chili scale.
For more info contact bigern111@hotmail.com
Not only are the illustrations rendered with truth and experience, but with an understanding of drunken benders that requires decades of real life experience. Characters are defined by negative space, darkness and gravity, elements which convince me of Dunham's futile quest for the root of his blooze,
and when the pages turn they moan like Screamin Jay Hawkins.
I highly recommend reading it, and it gets a 10 alarm rating on the chili scale.
For more info contact bigern111@hotmail.com
4/15/2008 Cora Lee!
Dan and Adrienne's new baby, Cora Lee is the sweetest little girl ever!
She was born Saturday the 5th and weighed 7lbs and 6oz, the same as her big brother Danny, (and as my brother and I). Her face is such a perfect blend of her parents, and the nurses had attached a little bow on her head (I would have NEVER thought was cool before I saw it!) and she looked like the "ideal" baby girl. I couldn't figure out how they had attached that bow and was shocked when Adrianne said they use some sort of glue. If I were a labor & delivery nurse the last thing I would think of to do to a newborn is glue junk on it's head, but it DID make her look like a doll.
Seeing Cora and Adrienne at the hospital the next morning was surreal; it felt like we were JUST there. Seeing Fox and Danny run around the room screaming and raising hell when it seemed like yesterday that THEY were in those little plastic, rolling beds made me feel sorta dreamy.
Those two boys were going crazy! Danny was so reluctant to get near Cora at first; he didn't even want to have his picture made with her. He and Fox spent most of the time stepping on the pedal of the "soiled laundry" bin and making the lid raise and crash down. They were hysterical about it and there was no parenting method we could employ to get them to stop, so we just let them play knowing that if any of the laundry flew out, at least we know who soiled it.
Cora was healthy and pink for the first twenty or so hours of her life, but then her red blood cell levels went haywire and they ended up having to stay a little bit longer, and then having to bring home a light bed for phototherapy. Jaundice is a common issue for newborns.
For some reason bright lights help break down built up bilirubin in the skin which occurs as a result of a not fully developed liver, or jaundice. Poor Cora had to stay in this little baby tanning bed ALL the time with the exception of feeding and changing. It was so hard for Adrienne because all she wanted to do was hold Cora and let her sleep comfortably. In an attempt to make the experience a bit less horrific, the nurses (again) glued velcro tabs on Cora's temples to attach little, padded shades to her head so she could sleep. (This was exemplary of the sort of cause that would warrant gluing something to a newborn's head..) They also drew closed eyelids and lashes on the glasses which I thought was a good aesthetic decision.
Last weekend when I took these photos it was so nice and warm outside; we tried to spend as much time as we could out in the yard. The trees were blooming and the breeze was warm... Adrienne stayed inside with Cora and tried to relax, even though it was a bright as the sun and gave her a headache. From outside it looked like they were either growing pot or smoking it.
Adriannes parents came to visit from Pennsylvania and I'm sure that was mucho helpful.
This weekend the weather was awful. It became really windy and knocked a bunch of trees out, then a cold front. After making a Saturday style breakfast Fox and I went outside to play and then walked to the park, then later Jason took him mushroom hunting and came back with a bunch of morels. Culinarally speaking, our weekend was more decadent than most.
She was born Saturday the 5th and weighed 7lbs and 6oz, the same as her big brother Danny, (and as my brother and I). Her face is such a perfect blend of her parents, and the nurses had attached a little bow on her head (I would have NEVER thought was cool before I saw it!) and she looked like the "ideal" baby girl. I couldn't figure out how they had attached that bow and was shocked when Adrianne said they use some sort of glue. If I were a labor & delivery nurse the last thing I would think of to do to a newborn is glue junk on it's head, but it DID make her look like a doll.
Seeing Cora and Adrienne at the hospital the next morning was surreal; it felt like we were JUST there. Seeing Fox and Danny run around the room screaming and raising hell when it seemed like yesterday that THEY were in those little plastic, rolling beds made me feel sorta dreamy.
Those two boys were going crazy! Danny was so reluctant to get near Cora at first; he didn't even want to have his picture made with her. He and Fox spent most of the time stepping on the pedal of the "soiled laundry" bin and making the lid raise and crash down. They were hysterical about it and there was no parenting method we could employ to get them to stop, so we just let them play knowing that if any of the laundry flew out, at least we know who soiled it.
Cora was healthy and pink for the first twenty or so hours of her life, but then her red blood cell levels went haywire and they ended up having to stay a little bit longer, and then having to bring home a light bed for phototherapy. Jaundice is a common issue for newborns.
For some reason bright lights help break down built up bilirubin in the skin which occurs as a result of a not fully developed liver, or jaundice. Poor Cora had to stay in this little baby tanning bed ALL the time with the exception of feeding and changing. It was so hard for Adrienne because all she wanted to do was hold Cora and let her sleep comfortably. In an attempt to make the experience a bit less horrific, the nurses (again) glued velcro tabs on Cora's temples to attach little, padded shades to her head so she could sleep. (This was exemplary of the sort of cause that would warrant gluing something to a newborn's head..) They also drew closed eyelids and lashes on the glasses which I thought was a good aesthetic decision.
Last weekend when I took these photos it was so nice and warm outside; we tried to spend as much time as we could out in the yard. The trees were blooming and the breeze was warm... Adrienne stayed inside with Cora and tried to relax, even though it was a bright as the sun and gave her a headache. From outside it looked like they were either growing pot or smoking it.
Adriannes parents came to visit from Pennsylvania and I'm sure that was mucho helpful.
This weekend the weather was awful. It became really windy and knocked a bunch of trees out, then a cold front. After making a Saturday style breakfast Fox and I went outside to play and then walked to the park, then later Jason took him mushroom hunting and came back with a bunch of morels. Culinarally speaking, our weekend was more decadent than most.
4/13/2008 You're Welcome
Cassie (my super sister in law) came and visited this weekend from Harlan county Kentucky and we had tons of fun. We spent lots of time outside in the sunshine, made a killer supper of fresh Morelle mushrooms Jason found at the Forks of the River park, and after dark we played music with Dan Jones. Today Cassie, Fox and I went to the fabric store and Cassie stocked up on crafty stuff unavailable in Harlan county. This weekend rated pretty high on the weekendometer.
Yesterday Cassie and I were playing with Fox in his room and she picked up a little toy and commented on how cute it was and asked where it came from. While trying to explain that my Uncle Charles had given it to him, I invented a new word:
Drun*kel -noun
1. a brother of one's father or mother who is drunk
2. an aunt's drunk husband
3. a familiar title or term of address for any elderly, drunk man
4. Slang. a drunk pawnbroker
5. (initial capital letter) Informal. Drunkle Sam
6. a word formerly used in communications to represent the letter D: "...the third letter is D as in the word drunkle"
7. say or cry drunkle, Informal. to concede defeat by alcohol: After twelve jagerbombs, four double martinis, a gin and tonic and a Miller Highlife, Jessie heard his drunkle cry, just before urinating in his pants and passing out.
[Origin: 1250–1300; ME < AF uncle, OF oncle < L avunculus mother's brother, equiv. to av(us) mother's father + -unculus. Prefix extracted from (Origin: 1300–50) ME drunken, OE druncen, ptp. of drincan to DRINK.]
Drunkle is a great, new word you can use when referring to your drunk uncle without having to go into lots of details if you don't want to.
Yesterday Cassie and I were playing with Fox in his room and she picked up a little toy and commented on how cute it was and asked where it came from. While trying to explain that my Uncle Charles had given it to him, I invented a new word:
Drun*kel -noun
1. a brother of one's father or mother who is drunk
2. an aunt's drunk husband
3. a familiar title or term of address for any elderly, drunk man
4. Slang. a drunk pawnbroker
5. (initial capital letter) Informal. Drunkle Sam
6. a word formerly used in communications to represent the letter D: "...the third letter is D as in the word drunkle"
7. say or cry drunkle, Informal. to concede defeat by alcohol: After twelve jagerbombs, four double martinis, a gin and tonic and a Miller Highlife, Jessie heard his drunkle cry, just before urinating in his pants and passing out.
[Origin: 1250–1300; ME < AF uncle, OF oncle < L avunculus mother's brother, equiv. to av(us) mother's father + -unculus. Prefix extracted from (Origin: 1300–50) ME drunken, OE druncen, ptp. of drincan to DRINK.]
Drunkle is a great, new word you can use when referring to your drunk uncle without having to go into lots of details if you don't want to.
4/11/2008 $@#* The Police!
Tonight we made supper with our friend Greg, and after he left Jason and I were sitting outside when Lee came by.
He asked us what we were doing and made small talk for a while, and then he started telling us about how crooked the KPD were. "During the 80s when I was locked up some Michigan kids got brought in and the police chained em up to some chairs and put motorcycle helmets on em and sprayed pepper spray in em. That same night I noticed they put something in my food and I ended up having to go to the acupuncturist to get all cleared out"
Jason and I had no idea what prompted this admission, what he had to do with "some guys from Michagan, or what acupuncturists did for food poisoning, but it was confirmed as much as anything can be that Lee WAS in the slammer for a while.
He added; "There's good cops and there's bad ones, but NO COP can win in a fight against Apache Native Shamans".
He was wearing a t shirt with a Superman shield on it.
He asked us what we were doing and made small talk for a while, and then he started telling us about how crooked the KPD were. "During the 80s when I was locked up some Michigan kids got brought in and the police chained em up to some chairs and put motorcycle helmets on em and sprayed pepper spray in em. That same night I noticed they put something in my food and I ended up having to go to the acupuncturist to get all cleared out"
Jason and I had no idea what prompted this admission, what he had to do with "some guys from Michagan, or what acupuncturists did for food poisoning, but it was confirmed as much as anything can be that Lee WAS in the slammer for a while.
He added; "There's good cops and there's bad ones, but NO COP can win in a fight against Apache Native Shamans".
He was wearing a t shirt with a Superman shield on it.
4/10/2008 Killer Shower
The other weekend Jason, Fox and I went to a baby shower in Monroe, North Carolina, just outside of Charlotte. The place belonged to his college friend Jerome's family, and he and his brother had remodeled the family barns into their houses. Living in the barn: It is the cool thing to do. But really, Jerome's barn is palatial compared to 40 Houser Road; huge machines were able to park inside of his barn and the post and beam truss construction towered fifteen feet above the second story level.
Anyway,
The baby shower was an afternoon affair, and the weather forecast affirmed an outdoor dining area, so no one brought jackets and everyone was a little bit pissed at themselves for buying the "70 degrees and sunshine in March" crap. Meaning: it was COLD, and WINDY. Plus it was spitting rain and the sun never broke through the overcast ceiling. The hay ride was cancelled.
The beginning of the party consisted of my chasing Fox around the pond in an attempt to deter the anxiety I inevitably experience in situations like that, and thankfully when I snuck back into the party Gravy Donger and Jenny were there.
When we first arrived at Jerome's house I had noticed that the entire ground floor was a bar. Not like "bar theme", but an actual bar you would walk into from a small town city street. The only thing that separated Jerome's bar from an actual bar were the politically incorrect wall hangings and effects peppered among the equipment. Felt top poker table, CHECK. Big screen TV, CHECK. Domestic beer on tap, CHECK. Mirrored beer adverts, CHECK. Stars-n-bars, CHECK. I was really impressed and I longed to spend time perched atop a stool from the second I laid eyes on it.
The party continued with the usual rigamarole: presents being opened by the mom to be surrounded by a mass of ooohs and aahhs. I somehow avoided that ritual and experienced it only in passing through the living room into the restroom to change Fox or to rinse the residue from betwixt his little fingers.
Soon afterwards the nicer vehicles began leaving the premises and I found myself surrounded by people my age. Fox became tired and I cuddled him until he was all woozy, then placed him into his "Pack-n-Play" porta-bed, (no play, just pack). When he was fast asleep I returned to the party in the basement bar and found things as I had left them, but drunker.
Ever since Fox was born I have lost my drive to party into the early hours. As entertaining and exciting as it might seem, after a few minutes of projection into the future the idea becomes as tired as I am. It's one thing if Fox is sleeping at one of his grandparent's houses and will be proceeded in waking with bacon, eggs, and apple juice, but to be at a total stranger's house in a strange room is different. I could be convinced to stay up an extra hour if I knew that my or Jason's mom would be there to wake up with Fox, but I am too old to do both.
Back downstairs in the bar the noise level had risen, and people were taking shots of tequila on command. There was talk of going to a neighborhood speakeasy and eventually half of the crowd adjourned. One guy tried to convince me to go, and I had to really break it down for him. "I will not set my child down to bed in the house of a pregnant woman who I had never met until today, and then, shrouded in darkness, leave him to go to a bar to hang out with people who I do not know." I had to defend my case a few times before it was accepted, and finally the crowd diminished.
I retired at midnight, unable to maintain the game face needed to fuel the party atmosphere, but not before the "bar-goers" had returned. They were real drunk and talking crazy. I slipped away without notice.
The next morning I awoke to silence; Jason had taken Fox into the living room when he woke and acquainted him with his college pals. I joined them and finally had the opportunity to speak to Elizabeth, the mom-to-be. She seemed ready to have the baby and was clearly tired of her pregnant state; she had done tons of work preparing their house by setting up the cutest nursery I had ever seen. When Fox was due all we did was vacuum, and I told her that. She told me about the renovation of the barn and how dusty it was for the first few months. She said they had purchased a "Rainbow" vacuum cleaner after a particularly moving display of it's powers. She showed it to me and so many questions were answered about the machine. Essentially it is a two thousand dollar water bong for your carpet. Worth every penny when you see how dirty the water is afterwards!
After noon we began our trip back to Knoxville through the budding Saluda Gorge, and then through the Smokies. It was such a beautiful, early spring weekend for such a kick-ass baby shower.
Anyway,
The baby shower was an afternoon affair, and the weather forecast affirmed an outdoor dining area, so no one brought jackets and everyone was a little bit pissed at themselves for buying the "70 degrees and sunshine in March" crap. Meaning: it was COLD, and WINDY. Plus it was spitting rain and the sun never broke through the overcast ceiling. The hay ride was cancelled.
The beginning of the party consisted of my chasing Fox around the pond in an attempt to deter the anxiety I inevitably experience in situations like that, and thankfully when I snuck back into the party Gravy Donger and Jenny were there.
When we first arrived at Jerome's house I had noticed that the entire ground floor was a bar. Not like "bar theme", but an actual bar you would walk into from a small town city street. The only thing that separated Jerome's bar from an actual bar were the politically incorrect wall hangings and effects peppered among the equipment. Felt top poker table, CHECK. Big screen TV, CHECK. Domestic beer on tap, CHECK. Mirrored beer adverts, CHECK. Stars-n-bars, CHECK. I was really impressed and I longed to spend time perched atop a stool from the second I laid eyes on it.
The party continued with the usual rigamarole: presents being opened by the mom to be surrounded by a mass of ooohs and aahhs. I somehow avoided that ritual and experienced it only in passing through the living room into the restroom to change Fox or to rinse the residue from betwixt his little fingers.
Soon afterwards the nicer vehicles began leaving the premises and I found myself surrounded by people my age. Fox became tired and I cuddled him until he was all woozy, then placed him into his "Pack-n-Play" porta-bed, (no play, just pack). When he was fast asleep I returned to the party in the basement bar and found things as I had left them, but drunker.
Ever since Fox was born I have lost my drive to party into the early hours. As entertaining and exciting as it might seem, after a few minutes of projection into the future the idea becomes as tired as I am. It's one thing if Fox is sleeping at one of his grandparent's houses and will be proceeded in waking with bacon, eggs, and apple juice, but to be at a total stranger's house in a strange room is different. I could be convinced to stay up an extra hour if I knew that my or Jason's mom would be there to wake up with Fox, but I am too old to do both.
Back downstairs in the bar the noise level had risen, and people were taking shots of tequila on command. There was talk of going to a neighborhood speakeasy and eventually half of the crowd adjourned. One guy tried to convince me to go, and I had to really break it down for him. "I will not set my child down to bed in the house of a pregnant woman who I had never met until today, and then, shrouded in darkness, leave him to go to a bar to hang out with people who I do not know." I had to defend my case a few times before it was accepted, and finally the crowd diminished.
I retired at midnight, unable to maintain the game face needed to fuel the party atmosphere, but not before the "bar-goers" had returned. They were real drunk and talking crazy. I slipped away without notice.
The next morning I awoke to silence; Jason had taken Fox into the living room when he woke and acquainted him with his college pals. I joined them and finally had the opportunity to speak to Elizabeth, the mom-to-be. She seemed ready to have the baby and was clearly tired of her pregnant state; she had done tons of work preparing their house by setting up the cutest nursery I had ever seen. When Fox was due all we did was vacuum, and I told her that. She told me about the renovation of the barn and how dusty it was for the first few months. She said they had purchased a "Rainbow" vacuum cleaner after a particularly moving display of it's powers. She showed it to me and so many questions were answered about the machine. Essentially it is a two thousand dollar water bong for your carpet. Worth every penny when you see how dirty the water is afterwards!
After noon we began our trip back to Knoxville through the budding Saluda Gorge, and then through the Smokies. It was such a beautiful, early spring weekend for such a kick-ass baby shower.
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