In Bread We Trust

Well, we've been enjoying the good weather so I haven't visited the blogosphere. I must say the Struan I mentioned in the last post turned out very well - unquestionably the best toast bread ever. And I haven't even brought up the grilled cheese sandwiches. Yum. I'm not really big on photographing food, so I don't even have proof of my culinary effort , which I realize is quite remiss of me in a world where blogging about food without pictures is like eating movie popcorn without Junior Mints. Hardly believeable. I am a mere amateur (an experienced amateur, but amateur nonetheless) but trust me on this - if you are a baker then Struan is the dream you are waiting on to come true. It is real, it is truth in bread........truth you can hold in your hands. If you do the work you will reap the rewards. A beautiful loaf inside and out. I love the history of Struan. The bread that was -according to the legend - baked by the oldest daughter of the family to celebrate the harvest. Gifts of grain to the family and fellow farmers. When I work with the dough I feel as though I am part of the history, albeit in a very distant way. Corny? Maybe,but I enjoy the vision of the daughter kneading the bread on a table in front of a fireplace with happiness in her heart for a bountiful harvest when I am kneading my dough on my contemporary American counter. Sound corny? I don't even care because my family is consuming something made with a thankful spirit; real through and through, instead of the questionable contents of a plastic bag. Serve up a loaf of truth t0 your family; talk about what real bread means with them at the dinner table. Let them know that it's not just food for the stomach - it's food for the soul. Trust me - it's worth your time.

Faith in Baking and Baking Soda

The goats are tired of rain and so am I. Thought I heard Wallace quack this morning when I was leaning out the bathroom window. It's hard to get into the whole creative process when you're straining your neck muscles to keep your head above water. Okay....I exaggerate somewhat. Still, it's hard to work outside when the ground is squishy, and let's face it - I'm not six years old anymore - that squishy stuff is no longer appealing. My to-do list for the inside is long enough to keep me busy for quite some time so I guess I really shouldn't complain. Top of the list today is bread - specifically - Struan. I haven't attempted Struan in many years, my first attempt being somewhat off-putting. I've decided that for some reason I need to make a bread with some real meaning behind it. (Of course, all my bread really has meaning behind it - it means we'll have something to eat!) Okay - get a hold of yourself. Seriously, Struan has a long story behind it - it was a harvest bread that was usually made by the oldest daughter of the house. From what I can determine, it was a tradition that came from an area in Hebrides known as Struanmoor. You can read more about Hebrides here. You can read more about Struan from Brother Juniper's Bread Book by Br.Peter Reinhart ( who is an amazing baker, but that's a whole nother story). Get it here. Brother Juniper's Bread Book has some fabulous recipes, but I have to admit that the method requires (perhaps not coincidentally) a leap of faith for someone used to doing things a little differently. Much of my bread baking education has been self- taught, from this book and that, but I have to admit that when I made the white bread out of Brother Juniper's Bread Book, my eyes were opened. I'm not even a white bread kind of gal - I just wanted to make something that seemed simple, but it turned out two absolutely amazing loaves of bread. Now I am very inspired to try the Struan again, so here's to faith in baking and in all things.
Cleaning the house. Eeeep! No longer one of my favorite things since somewhere along the way, I lost of control of my house and now it controls me. Being controlled by a house is just not a good thing, let me tell you. It's very hard to regain control because once it's gone, you just want to bury your head in something that isn't too dusty and forget about it. I lie awake in bed in the early hours some mornings and angst about it. (Today was my day for lying in bed angsting about the goat house - tomorrow will probably be the day for angsting about house cleaning - I usually fall back asleep before I can fret about more than one thing. ) I am a baking soda/vinegar/essential oil kind of girl since I became unable to tolerate chemical/toxic waste smells. I absolutely cannot tolerate any of these perfumes that people bathe in before they go to work, or wherever it is that they're going. Candles, air fresheners, cleaners - it's all toxic. I know I am so far from being the only one terribly disturbed by this stuff that it's not even funny. I think laws should be passed against this kind of pollution - I really do. I read about one lady who couldn't even leave her house because she developed such a sensitivity.
And this is not getting my house clean. (sadly....though heaven knows if surfing the Internet could push the broom and move the dust rag, my house would be spotless!) It's time to get out the vinegar, baking soda and rosemary oil and swab the decks.

But first, I'm going to start some Struan. I'll let you know how it goes.

Ask- a -Goat

I'm finally off on a Saturday - and it's cloudy. Bummer. It's been raining for the last couple of days so it's not even optimal conditions for digging in the ground. I've got to build a goat house.

How is this going to happen?

On top of all this, I've got all these thoughts rumbling around in my head.

For example:

Most days, I think about getting rid of my tv and my computer. I long for simpler times.

I want to be a farmer with lots of land, animals and vegetables.

I've got to build a goat house.

If I believe in God, which I do very much, then why does Buddhism seem so appealing sometimes?

Why do I sit in this chair so much when I feel so much better getting up and doing stuff?

And this one, a new thought: why is John Turturro, in the second Transformers movie, ripping of his pants to reveal some really scary.......underpants?

I've got to build a goat house.

Why are organic foods and products so expensive when organic is the way foods and products should be? It's like giving a child a reward for doing something he's supposed to do anyway.

Why are entertainers paid so much and teachers and cops paid so little?

Is trying to stop global warming really trying to go against God's plan?

Why is it so hard to not spend money?

I've got to build a goat house.

I've got no answers.

Maybe I need to ask Twister.

Step Away from the Ice Cream...........

Drastic times call for drastic measures. I have a point, a reason for saying that....I just can't get to it yet. I recently reached the culmination of several years efforts in trying to commit suicide by gluttony. No...I didn't actually try to commit suicide, but considering the fact that I'm not an uneducated person and I had to know the damage I was doing to myself by repeatedly overeating, anyone could be excused for thinking that. I haven't been to the doctor for said problem - no, nay - I have diagnosed myself. One bitchin, screamingly unhappy, hiatal hernia. I am fairly certain. One morning, a few weeks ago when I woke up sick as hell and throwing up, I realized that while it would probably be a good idea to go to the doctor, major lifestyle changes would be necessary no matter what. So......enter drastic measures. I've quit alcohol, caffeine (except for the very healthy yerba mate) fast foods, fried foods and overeating. I guess major sickness is a potent distraction from feeling deprived - I've missed none of that stuff. My problem now is that I'm getting hungry a LOT. It is difficult to eat a tennis ball sized serving when I'm hungry enough to eat the legs off the table. I have had frequent small meals, but for the first time since the vomitathon I've really had trouble restraining myself. I guess the honeymoon is over.
This all sometimes leads me to wonder how those people who make a living overeating in those contests are gonna fare a few years down the road. I see other people overeating and I just want to tell them that there is nothing they could possibly eat that is worth someday feeling like I felt that morning. Overeating is such a bad problem to have. There are lot of people who think that overeating is just a sign that a person is weak or a pig. It's an addiction just like drugs, alcohol or cigarettes with consequences that can be just as severe as any other addiction. It requires major self-discipline like any other addiction. I hope someday soon, I'll be able to look back on this as a bad time in my life and I would like to look back from a healthy body in size 14 jeans. But for now, I'm just happy God is giving me the strength to put down the fork and push back from the table.

Here Comes the Sun!

Amazing!Thank you Fresh Air Fund! I would love to believe that I played a part in helping at least one of these kids have a fabulous summer!

The Van Goats are proud of me - they think I'm actually losing weight. I have to give a lot of credit to my new personal trainer. She is fierce and she totally busts my ass. She's.........my 6 year old daughter. I've been walking to her school some instead of driving to pick her up and then we play on the obstacle course thingy and she is really kicking my butt! This kid knows what she's doing - "Put your back into it!" she screams - as I heave my big gut up the incline for another crunch. (Don't really know where she got that.) I've been walking, loping, hanging from a bar trying to look like I'm doing chin-ups, doing crunches and pulling my super-sized self up and over all manner of playground equipment. Tell me I'm not gonna be ripped in a month or so! Damn straight! I've also been doing extensive work in and outside of the house and I'm feeling like a real person. I'm not really sure what got me fired up all of the sudden. I guess sometimes all it takes is the realization that you're slowly dying - we all are, just some of us are trying to hit the express lane - and you can either slow down the process and enjoy the ride, or do a "Thelma and Louise" off the great cliff of life. It's a matter of personal preference. I've been in the process of taking the "Thelma and Louise", and even though I know that it's not the option that I really want it's hard turn around when you're going full speed.

OMG! Some guy just walked in Panera wearing man-pris! WTF! He must've lost a bet. Like sitting here listening to some guy with shitty sinuses sniff like "Wilbur" the pig for the last half hour wasn't irritating enough. Damn. Can't a sister get some peace?

Anyway, as I was just saying, I don't want to do the "Thelma and Louise" and it's awfully hard to slam on the brakes when you've got your eye on the half gallon of ice cream a little way down the road. I'd like to meet the asshole that invented ice cream. I'd shove several pints of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey up his butt. Better still, I'd let Vincent or Vanessa Van Goat do it for me.

Can a Mental Hospital Buy Lottery Tickets?

Why don't I just start buying lottery tickets? I would like to win the lottery - right now it's up to three hundred and something million dollars in Georgia. It would be the easiest thing in the world to skip right over there and buy some tickets. So what's stopping me? That's a rhetorical question really........I know what's stopping me. It's the fact that every single time I've bought a ticket I don't even get one number and it just pisses me off. The fact I've that I even brought this up makes no sense I guess since apparently I'm not going to buy any tickets, but I started thinking about it because since I left my regular full time job at one hospital to go back to the hospital In which I have spent most of my working life, I've had some trouble getting enough hours to pay the bills and keep us all in feed. ( I don't discuss this with the Van Goats.......they get extremely nervous and start eating the house. ) In my quest to find more work, I started looking everywhere in the city I could think of that would offer nursing jobs. I recalled a time in life a few years ago when I was working one night and this other nurse was talking about how she occasionally worked at the local mental hospital because it was easy money - stand behind a window and pass out pills. How hard could that be? Last night I started trying to find a website for said hospital to apply for a job and strangely enough I couldn't find a website for the hospital, but I did find several articles about how the tanking economy has necessitated budget cuts at this hospital, which is of course a state run hospital. (I did eventually discover, that with this place being state run, you have to go through a government website to apply for those jobs.)They have closed one building which housed most of the long term acute patients, as I understand it, and they are deleting 40 positions in the hospital. The articles I read were very interesting because there are major concerns as to where the patients who need acute care will go when there's no room for them. This hospital isn't the only mental health institution in the city, but it's the hospital that takes the very ill/criminally insane types of patients and when there's no more room in the inn, those types of patients are going to end up in jail. Now tell me......how is cutting the budget at that hospital the answer? Sick is sick! Figure it out people! We don't send patients who have been flown in from a major trauma to a doc-in-a-box when the ED is full. Stop handing out bonuses to undeserving tools who sit behind a desk and cluelessly pull the chain on health care. If these people won't stay and do their jobs without a bonus, there is always going to be someone willing to the job who will. Has no one figured this out yet? It isn't rocket science, people!

So - not only did I not find a job, but I found more evidence that people with the approximate intelligence of gnats are running the state. I particularly loved the part where some guy said that all the employees at this hospital have been apprised of all the changes and they realize that these changes are good for the hospital. The latest euphemism for " the employees realize that the hospital is taking it up the tailpipe and they can't say anything about it or they will be one of the forty employees to get sent to the heezy."

See, this is just another reason that everyone would benefit from observing the habits of goats. A goat would so not allow that to happen. Goats have a quick way of dealing those who breach the ethics of their society. How would those government people feel if they were in their conference room sipping their Starbucks, saying " Well, this hospital is necessary to the county, nay the state, but we're going to have to make cuts elsewhere(wink, wink) if we don't lop a million or so of their budget " then KABAAAAMMMM! They're t-boned right into the next millenium by 120 pounds of horn and muscle. I think this kind of office protocol just might straighten up the whole state - hell - it could straighten up the whole country. Or maybe the hospital could just start buying lottery tickets. The employees that are still there could just start chipping in a dollar or so out of each paycheck.


p.s. Read it for yourself.

Escapism Schmapism

My life seems to be a never ending cycle of escapism. Lucky for me, I'm not one to get stuck in a rut - I indulge in more than one flavor of escape. Believe me - I am no amateur on this subject. There's Farm Frenzy 2, which offers endless hours of time driven entertainment. You try to meet your goals in the amount of time it takes to make the gold or silver level, thereby getting more points, more money and more upgrades. Farm Frenzy Pizza Party is a special fun for me since in this version of the game they've added goats - you know I'm in heaven when I'm making dough, goat cheese and pizza! Oh yeah!
Then there are your endless varieties of video games. I usually get fixated on one game at a time, playing every opportunity I get - sitting in the car line at school, waiting in a doctor's office, maybe even first thing in the morning when I'm taking the first sips of that nectar of the gods - coffee. I have buried myself in Daredevil, Legend of Zelda - The Minish Cap (which I might add reigns supreme in gaming!), Chronicles of Narnia - The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Wererabbit (That game is frickin awesome!) and of course, anything having to do with Raving Rabbids.
I would of course, be remiss if I didn't list Law & Order as one of the top vehicles for leaving this universe. Law & Order: SVU is the be all/end all to television as far as I'm concerned, although Nurse Jackie and Weeds are not without merit. I am so badly addicted to SVU that after I had my hip surgery, I watched so much I started freaking out and having weird dreams. (Okay, that might have been the narcotics but let me tell you, I watched a LOT.)
The piece de resistance in escapism - books. Oh yeah, my friends the books. Can. Not. Get. Enough. Of. Them. I even escape in separate genres. Sometimes I'll read chick lit for a couple of weeks. Other times it'll be forensic thrillers (some of them scare the hell out of me, but I can't quit'em.) Lisa Gardner has no equal in the thriller department, but that's a whole 'nother story. By the way, I recently read something that someone wrote about their pet peeve being people who use words that aren't really words or they spell words incorrectly like irregardless and nother. Screw you - sometimes, nother is the only word that works.
So as I was saying, Lisa Gardner - she is the queen! The Perfect Husband. I was scared to go to the bathroom by myself after I read that book! I've read it at least five times. In fact, it's almost time for me to read it again.
Now - having said all this..........I can always grab a brewski, plop down in a chair on the deck and hang with the Van Goats.

Summer's almost over but it's not too late to help a child enjoy a vacation for which he or she might otherwise not have the opportunity. If you click on the picture you could find out how to make a new friend . You could give someone a life-changing experience - and it might just be you!

The Doctor Is In

I have to wonder.....is it time to just call it a day on the blog? I feel like I have nothing to say anymore. I go to work, take care of my family and and do all your other average stuff. Nothing remarkable. The Van Goats are always amazing, but probably only to me. So......I feel as though I have reach an impasse. Is that the right word? Whatever.
Okay, well here's something. I'm 45 years old - 46 in a couple of months. In the last few months, I've gotten into mental health discussions with people (you know the kind where women talk about what drugs they're on to improve the sanity/insanity ratio. ) Two different people in two different discussions told me " Oh yeah....you are totally ADD! Can spot that from a mile away!" Well HELLO! Was anybody gonna tell me before they were throwing clumps of dirt of top of me? Damn! Help a sister here! I got to thinking about this and reached the conclusion that maybe there's something to that. It would explain a lot of things about me and heaven knows some thing's got to! One of these people actually said, " I cannot believe you didn't know this!" What! Am I a psychiatrist now? I'm wondering if there is actually a way to salvage the remainder of my years...however many there are. I mean, this could be pretty big! When the Van Goats came along, they changed my life. They love me unconditionally - as long as they're fed on time - and they expect very little in return. They're entertaining, affectionate and they're pretty good workers too - they totally keep the backyard in shape and fertilized. They don't treat me like I'm the stupidest being on the face of the earth, they don't insist on telling me their every thought, and they're not always saying " Well you're mean, I want to spend the night with Daddy!" (Bout over that.) Still, it's hard to completely base your feeling of self worth on positive reinforcement from goats. Reaching the age of 45 and looking back and only seeing a lifetime of not following through and not finishing - a lifetime.....it's not really a good feeling. Always having the best of intentions.....well you know where those intentions get you. And you don't even have to wait til you die to get there.
Anyway, I'm thinking that maybe even now, I could feel better and it would probably be great. And if nothing comes of this theory, well at least the Van Goats don't charge for therapy.

I just finished eating dinner and all I can say is that Barbara Kingsolver and her family are my new heroes. How does a person get from dinner to a bestselling author hero? Well.......it's sort of a long story, but here goes.
I haven't talked as much as I could've about my quest to live green and local or you might otherwise have an idea as to how I got from point a to point b in this discussion, but suffice it to say that I have wanted for some time to read Animal,Vegetable Miracle by none other than - yes , you guessed it - Barbara Kingsolver. So I have finally started this book and I've been reading it for a couple of days now and I came across their recipe for Eggs in a Nest. Yes, that's what I said. So I fixed Eggs in a Nest for dinner and continued to read the book while I ate it. Talk about a zen dinner. I really can't remember when I've enjoyed a dinner more. I've been feeling worried about being overweight and being seriously addicted to food, feeling worried putting it mildly, and this dinner was a small step toward the higher road.
This book is about the author and her family and their quest toward being total locavores for an entire year. Doesn't sound like much does it? It didn't sound like much to me until I got to the chapter where she sat down with the family to make the grocery list. From that moment on I was hooked and although I tend to seriously doubt I could make good on that commitment, I could certainly try. I feel inspired to try, and I haven't been feeling inspired by much of anything here lately, so for that I thank her - she's my hero.

Is It Asking Too Much?

I haven't had much to say as of late (if you knew me, you would forget sending flowers to the hospital - you would go ahead and send the wreath to the funeral home) and it's unfortunate that now my something to say is somewhat whiny and negative. I live in a difficult place - geographically and sometimes mentally, the mental part being a whole 'nother story. When I bought this house, I wasn't aware that I was placing myself AND my children atop "Flag Hill" , which is known for being an easy place to score drugs. People don't hang out a shingle saying "The cook is in". It took at least 6 months to find out about the meth lab down the street. Not quite so long to figure out I had also moved right into the redneck ghetto. I am so NOT exaggerating. The first year here was uncomfortable and now just having passed the 3rd anniversary of dwelling in the same neighborhood as a person who has cut people with a machete over a drug deal gone bad, another who has attempted suicide by blowing his face off over being in trouble with the law, and of course, the freaks who are just plain old sociopaths,I have more or less adopted the philosophy that no news is good news. I have endured people trying to make my life miserable because of the Van Goats, people just trying to make my life miserable because I exist, apparently. Today was more or less the last straw. While I was hanging out laundry, Chico the dog was hanging out in the street as he is bad to do, and out of the blue I heard someone slamming on brakes and yelling out the car window about having had it with "that dog". I looked around the clothes I was hanging up, at which point the mouthy bitch asked me" IS THIS YOUR DOG?". I gave affirmation that he was and she informed me that he always chases her husband on his motorcycle and her husband is going to kill my dog if he hits him. She then screeched off as I informed her that her husband drives too damn fast. Not that it matters, right? I mean, who gives a shit if some jackhole on a motorcycle drives 50 mph through a neighborhood in view of the fact that there is a jack russell/chihuahua roaming around on the loose. Where the fuck are my priorities? For some reason, after all the things that had annoyed me in the previous 10 hours, let's say, this was the thing that almost pushed me over the edge. I am so over rude people who think they have the right to ruin someone else's day. I wanted to call the police and say that she told me her husband was going to kill my dog just to try and fuck up her day. I didn't have the energy to go to all the trouble that was going to entail. I don't think that I am the only person on the planet encountering this kind of irritation. What I do think is that we should all band together and figure out a way to deal with all the people who want to suck the life out of the rest of us - the ones just trying to mind our own business and live. I mean really - IS it asking too much?

We all need Fresh Air

I've posted about the Fresh Air Fund before, but now things are really heating up for the summer. If you donate before June 30th, a group of their generous sponsors will match whatever you donate, dollar for dollar. That is HUGE! Imagine all the kids who will get to have a vacation they thought was only a dream. Having read a few books on what life is like for children in the inner cities doesn't make me an expert on this subject, but it does make me understand that some kids aren't ever going to get out - period. This time is even more critical that most of us realize. I hope that this picture on my website will speak to you and lead you to investigate more. Thank you for reading.

Bring on the brass pole.......

Wow.....I'm a bad blogger.....nothin since May 20. What's up with that? As far as June goes, I've been busy getting my ass kicked every day this week by cheer camp. What is cheer camp, you might ask. Well, it's some kind of fascist summer camp for kids to teach them how to become screaming, ribbon wearing, strippers-in-training. Okay - I'm just joking - there really wasn't that much screaming. It was pretty cool actually, especially watching my gal learn the cheers and dances and making new friends. I was stressed because I wanted badly for her to make all-stars - for her - not me. I'm not one of those crack-head parents that grounds their kid for only hitting 2 home runs instead of 3. I don't care what she does as long as she feels good about herself - and if she turns out to be a bank robber , she better hit the big ones and share with me. Just joking, again. Seriously, I want her to do something - participate in some activity whatever it is, and have a passion for something special. Life takes on a whole new meaning when you have something(s) that keeps you looking forward - as long as it's not too far forward. I've had many passions in my life (oh hell no, I'm not even close to talking about men. )Anyway, it's not like I'm a friggin philosopher or anything - I'm just extraordinarily wise due to the inordinate amount of beer I've consumed in my lifetime, which has served to lessen the inhibiting properties of my brain cells, thereby enabling them to function freely and without reserve. (Somebody in Mensa - please try to fucking top that shit.)

I don't know if cheering is her gig or not, but I know she had a great time and she also learned that she can hang in there for four days jumping,yelling, cheering and wearing ribbon with the best of them.

It's Good to be Green

For the first time since I discovered my desire to be "green", I feel like I am following through - walking the walk as it were, instead of just talking the talk. And it doesn't just feel good to do the right thing, but it's fun too. I love my reel mower - it's a great workout, it's quiet, and I love the way it cuts the grass. It cuts like clippers instead of chewing the grass up and spitting it back out. The outdoor clothes dryer (okay- it's a clothesline) is the bomb! My sheets smell so good that it's hard to get up in the morning. Recycling, with two recycling centers conceniently in my area, has become second nature. The compost pile is starting to shape up, and hopefully with some more tine I'll actually be producing some of the black gold people keep talking about. One of my biggest green habits is using natural cleaners and I've doing that since Rachel was born because of my fear of having dangerous chemicals in the house. When I started using natural cleaners I found out my sinuses were less bitchy so that was more incentive to stick with it. I can actually thank Victoria Moran for turning me on to natural cleaning because right after Rachel was born I was a big, fat, emotional mess and I was looking for comfort and solace. Somehow I stumbled across her book, Shelter for the Spirit and I decided it could be the thing to lift my spirit and all I can say is that it must've been divine intervention because that book changed my life. In some small way, it was like leaving the dark behind for a small view of the enlightened life. It opened the door and of course,the rest was up to me. I've read several of her books since then and while I find Shelter for the Spirit to be the best by far, her books are excellent when you need motivation and a boost for your spirit.
There are so many ways to reduce your carbon footprint, and sadly some of those ways are not within my reach right now. I can't afford a hybrid automobile or "green" paint (someday, though!) and biking or walking to work and other places is not an option because we live too far out, although I am trying to get my hip back in shape so that I can walk to the store and walk Rachel to school. My garden is still quite small by most standards, but I dream of the day when I can grow all our food - well all the food that can actually be grown, anyway. This is a journey unfinished and I have many miles to go , but this is one of the most beautiful, scenic journeys on which I've ever embarked. And I'm luckier than most because since we've expanded the fenced- in area to a portion of the front yard, the Van Goats can keep me company while I garden. They are great with fertilizer.

My Heroes! Check out the Getty Museum - they're showin us how it's done!

May 9, 2008
Green Pastures
The Getty Museum has announced plans to clear the flammable brush on its Brentwood grounds the old-fashioned way—with a small flock of goats. According to the press release:
The goats are supervised by goatherd Hugh Bunten and his dog Steve, who live in a tent on the Getty grounds while the goats work. Hugh is there to keep the goats “focused,” says his wife Sarah, and also to protect against coyotes (which they see a lot) and mountain lions (which they’ve never seen, but you never know).
The eco-friendly fire-prevention initiative coincides with the museum’s exhibition “Oudry’s Painted Menagerie,” a survey of life-size animal portraits by the French painter Jean-Baptiste Oudry (1686. . .1755). While there are no images of goats or coyotes, the show does include one ten-foot-tall canvas of a lion.—Andrea K. Scott
Posted by Andrea K. Scott

The Pressure of a Post

ARRRGGGGHHHH! I haven't posted in over a week! OMG! My loyal readers are waiting with bated breath. My sponsors are gonna dump me! Wait a minute.........I don't have any sponsors! Ha ha ha! Sometimes I fuckin crack myself up. This blogging thing is great and because nobody reads this it's even better. I could just sit here and type "watermelon, watermelon, watermelon....." That takes me right back to high school when I was in chorus and hated it so I just stood there and sang "watermelon, watermelon, watermelon..." Nobody knew but my my cohort standing next to me and she was continually amused by the apathy on which I sailed through my high school years. She had study hall in my Algebra II class and she almost dropped her teeth (and they weren't dentures) when she looked down the row of desks and saw me snoozing through a test. My teacher sucked, I hated math, and I totally just couldn't get it so what was the point of stressing myself out. Seemed like it was as good a time for a nap as any. I secretly wanted to be brilliant at math, but I gave up somewhere around the 9th grade. Mysteriously, I got a B in geometry (no sexual favors were involved - the teacher was a woman anyway.) but other than that aberration, my career in math was spectacularly sucky. I slaved over a pencil and calculator in college for a B in elementary not-quite-algebra class. (Again - no sex acts were necessary.) It's totally amazing how I have completely left my subject behind for something completely unrelated. And it doesn't matter!!! No one's reading this shit anyway. My ability to segue in to an unrelated topic reminds me of this girl, Tammy, who used to do the horoscope on FM98.1 in the mornings. She would start out doing the horoscope and then she completely leave the horoscope behind to talk about herself - she was frickin hilarious! There's nothing like that on the air anymore. Another indication that radio just isn't what it used to be. Now there's just stupid shit where people try to annihilate each other on air. Long gone are the days of Tammy and Shakespeare Man. Shakespeare Man - totally brill. He could take any song and turn it into Shakespeare speak.Imagine recitations of "Here Comes the Hot Stepper" and "When I Come Around". I loved driving to work in the morning then.
Okay - now let's take a look at this: I started out talking about how I hadn't posted in over a week and ended with Shakespeare Man. This may be why I get strange looks from the Van Goats sometimes.

Rain, rain go away...........

you're tearing the ass out of me and my back yard. I know we need rain because we never get any during the summer, but this is getting extreme! My poor goats were paddling around the backyard this morning. I did get to mow the lawn yesterday and plant my gardenia, so I've got that going for me. Loving the new lawnmower - reel mowers are the only way to go. No gas, no oil, no pollution and you can actually hear your kids calling you while you're mowing. I realize that maybe some people wouldn't feel that that aspect of it is a plus. I, being the walking neurosis that I am, really like to be able to hear my kids while I'm mowing. So here's a picture of the fabulous lawn mower that I bought:

Yeah - it's cool, right? That's what I'm sayin. It's just so freeing to not have to go out and fill up a gas can to be able to mow the lawn. I did see on a website where you can order one of these beauties that someone said " it's not difficult to push of these and don't let anyone tell you it is.Anyone who says it is hasn't seen or pushed one of these in something like 20 years." I'm paraphrasing of course, but you get the drift. Well, it is a little tougher to push but that's okay because who couldn't use a little more exercise/resistance training. I don't know, that whole remark just seemed kind of pompous, condescending smart-ass to me. Hey - my dad didn't use one - nobody did when I was growing up. People were still too friggin glad to have lawn mowers with motors. Of course, I haven't seen one! Someone asked me the other day if my lawnmower was hard to push and I said "Yes, sort of - but it's totally worth the effort!" It totally is..........so get one already!!!!

It's Not Just a Job.....it's a Huge Disappointment.

Well, it was good to be back at work again. I had an angel on my shoulder apparently since we didn't get run into the ground like we usually do. Although I enjoyed most of my time off, I have to admit it sort of does feel good to be actually earning money instead of just spending. One thought I once again revisited this weekend is that nursing totally sucks now - even fun operating room nursing. Insurance companies, management, you-name-it etc. have conspired to render nursing something no longer bearing any resemblance to what it was when I first started 22 years ago. (Okay, I'm old, right?) Nursing was still great when I first graduated from nursing school. We had enough of the appropriate resources to take care of our patients - we had enough fucking time to take care of our patients. Now, you get called into the office for spending too much time with your patients because if you are doing that, then you are most likely having to stay late to finish all the bullshit stuff that has turned nursing into paper pushing and if you're staying late, they might be having to pay you overtime. Of course, we don't even use paper anymore - it's all on the computer. Don't get me wrong, I love computers - I'm using one right now, but there are times when paper is better. Eventually I left real patient care for the operating room where my biggest chance to feel like I'm taking care of a person is making sure that my eyes and my voice - the last ones they see and hear before they go to sleep - are making the patient feel better about where they are. I have to make the patient feel that they are in good hands for the duration of time they're in the OR and I don't have long to do that. So that's the extent of feeling like I'm still a "real nurse". I love OR nursing, or at least I did until management "managed" to suck the heart and soul out of it. It's not about the patient any more - it's about the friggin money. It's about making sure the management gets their bonuses; it's about making sure there are plenty of managers in department meetings and on committees, even if it mean there aren't enough actual caregivers. So these people have bonused, expensed and partied hospitals into places that are hacking their supplies and staff down to a very bare bone to keep from going under. Like we didn't see this shit coming.
If I had known then what I know now, I would still be a lifeguard. WTF - you're still saving lives , right?

All good things must come to an end.......

Well, it would seem that my time of recuperation has come to an end. I have to say that after I got over feeling like my butt would never be the same again, it was really cool being off work all this time - there's a silver lining in every cloud. I have loved being off on the weekends, occasionally sleeping late and of course, being away from work so long that I have now forgotten all user names, passwords and my locker combination. It has been a fun time and we've been able to do things on the weekend, which is awfully nice since most fun things happen on the weekend. I can't really say that I want to go back to work, although I am sort of looking forward to having a paycheck again.

Anyway, I have loved every minute of being home full time with my peeps.

Mean people really DO suck........

Well friends, life on and around the ranch is getting difficult. It seems that there are those who would have the Van Goat Ranch go away, disappear, be done away with - you get the idea. Of course, as far as I'm concerned, "those" can just suck it . The Van Goat Ranch doesn't plan on going anywhere. Things are complicated though. Ya see, the Van Goat Ranch while not being located in the city - we're in the county all right - is on a street where the houses are close enough together that some might call it a subdivision. It consists of two streets running parallel to each other and this apparently to some this amounts to the same thing as a residential area. To some of us who live here, it consists of the redneck fucking ghetto. This is the kind of place where the cops are frequently here - last week they were here 3 times - and when the cops show up in this neighborhood, they send 4 or 5 cars - not just 1 or 2. These last three times were because some , uh, gasp...........lesbians have moved into the neighborhood and they're causin a LOT of trouble. That's right folks - trouble right here in river city...and that starts with T and that rhymes with C and that stands for carpet-munchers. I'm sorry....I shouldn't have said that because I got no problems....it's just funny. These girls put down $3000.00 sod in their rental yard - which why would you do that anyway? But they did and they don't want the ghetto kids running all over it and /or perpetrating whatever crimes they've dreamt up in their $3000 yard. Now why this is so GREATLY upset to these people in the hood is absolutely beyond me. Believe me, I had my share of trouble with these fucking people when I moved in this shithole. Kids wouldn't stop riding their fucking bikes through my flower beds and it ended up in a 3 car visit from the police. SO......I have felt their pain.
Anyway, I digress...........the jackholes that live behind me are still pushing their vendetta against my goats. They're still trying to make me get rid of my babies. I got an "official " letter in the mail that could have been written by my six year old, it was so unprofessional. In fact, I fear that I have insulted my six year old and her writing skills by saying such a thing as she is way better than that. They told me that I have violated the zoning regulations by raising a goat herd. Well, I've been through all this before thanks to the pustulating sore on satan's ass that is my neighbor. They have called everyone that they can think of and so far, I have been deemed to be sitting on the right side of the law. I am not running a commercial farm. Now they are trying to say that I have too many goats for this piece of land, even though there is nothing in the zoning regulations that addresses that. Still, I am NOT breeding goats to sell. This is STILL NOT a commercial farm. And those jackholes do not get to make up the rules as they go along. They are threatening to bring this to the attention of the County Attorney. Woooooooo! I am so scared that I have been continually been leaking fecal matter since I got their letter. Well, guess what bitches! I'm going to bring it to his attention first. I do realize that no one in this neighborhood with the exception of 3 or 4 of my neighbors, no one in this county, in this city , in this state, country or internet, would be on my side. I mean, I realize that there aren't too many people in the world who have goats for back yard pets. People just don't care about goats. I didn't until I got them. (for "got" read - "inherited" them.)When properly cared for, goats don't stink. They don't make a lot of noise except at dinner time. Which isn't, let me tell ya, at two in the fucking morning, unlike what many of the damn dogs in this neighborhood seem to think. The goats don't start up their trucks, boats, campers, lawn mowers and blow out noxious fumes all over the place - unlike some inconfuckingsiderate people in this neighborhood. They don't start fires in the backyard and choke everyone within a ten mile radius. They fertilize the hell out of my lawn and make great compost, which if some of these dumb bastards realized, they would be bringing goats in by the truckloads. (Bunch of grass worshipping douchebags. ) My goats are great companions and entertainers, which again, if people knew this, they would be saving a lot of money. But hey - what the fuck do I know? I'm just a stupid redneck with nine happy goats in her backyard minding her own damn business. I hate assholes.

The No Name Post

There are quite a few interesting phenomena on the internet. Look at "Fuck You, Penguin". Every time I read "Fuck You, Penguin" I almost have to have CPR from laughing so hard. To use one of FUP's phrases - "Ho. Lee. Shit." FUP - I don't know who you are, but I am not fucking worthy. (I'm trying though, so watch out!)
Check out Dooce - capable of verbally flattening Jabba the Hut with a single sentence if she so desires. She is as sharp as Twister's horns. I don't really recommend trying to find out how sharp that is. You can be reading one of her posts and then all of the sudden, she just fucking t-bones you with some remark about Mormons or something. Heather - I think you've elevated yourself to "Shit Ass Ho Fuckingbadass." (Of course, it's not like I think you read this. Laughing, just thinking about that. P.S. Shit Ass Ho Fuckingbadass is actually the title she gave to her husband - he's a S.A.H.F. )
Not Afraid to Use it. She cracks me up, she is so damn funny - what is she not afraid to use? Total snark? Baaaaaad words? I personally love her reference to other moms she meets. (Finally - a kindred spirit in the mom department. ) I always feel like I'm Judy Miller when I'm around other moms. (Watch Still Standing on Lifetime channel to get this one.)
Now we come to the gist of this post. It must be said that I have tried to curb my affection for using profanity as I've been assured that nothing says, nee' screams, "I'm loser, white trash" like jestingly calling your friend/co-worker/partner-in-crime 'Beeeyotch'" by a surgeon with whom I frequently work. (Uh - beyotch - that's not even a bad word, is it?) No, I didn't childishly ask him who appointed him chief of the profanity police. Okay! I was tempted - Whatever!! I'm of two minds on that whole thing .(Like I even have one mind.) He asked me if I wanted people to see me as being "that" kind of person. (Huh?) Was I aware of what kind of impression that made on people? (Hopefully the one that says "Don't fuck with me.") Just how serious is this? Do I really care what "these" people think of my vocabulary? You know, maybe he's right. Maybe I shouldn't sort of take pride in the fact that I have certain "Dooce/FUP/NATUI characteristics. Maybe I'm not being an adult. YEAH - RIGHT!!!! Many people/phenomena slide into their day, their blog, your feeds, by getting their snark on. To be honest, where I work , snark makes the day go by more quickly AND enjoyably. I don't think that it means that you look in the dictionary under snark or white trash and it has pictures of me and my co-workers or any of the other people utilizing the humorous qualities afforded by wielding a little (or a lot) of snark. There are entire blogs based on it - take away snark and there's nothing left but a bunch of a's, and's and the's. Do I want my mom to look on my blog and see the word "fuck" looming out at her? Should she really know that I think that a lot of moronic posers on Twitter apparently think their shit doesn't stink but that's okay because a lot people really are on there to establish a pleasant internet countenance? Not really, but I don't think she'd fall apart.(She didn't fall apart when I bumped my head on the sharp corner of a shelf in that shoe store a few years ago.) She would abstain from reading the blog which is what people who are offended by snark and it's bad little word friends should do. I don't think that someone's seriousness about their purpose is necessarily reflected in their vocabulary. Sometimes I scream " Well fuck ME!" and I'm totally serious.

Are You Vacationing this Summer?

You could give a child from New York City a vacation instead of going out of town. Sort of like "taking a trip and never leaving the farm". It's a thought.

(Thanks to Jim Stafford for one of my all time favorite song lyrics from "The Wildwood Weed".)

And this.....just in from Kirtsy! Action..........

Ya gotta love it! Be sure and check out their website

Sometimes a Girl's Gotta Do What a Girl's Gotta Do......

Okay, I"m looking at the bra's and I turned around to discover that Rachel had availed herself of one of the bras at the end of the row. I'm sure she just did that because it was there and the lights were bright in Target. And I'm sure someday she'll forgive me for posting this on my blog some day too.

How to Get From a Reel Mower to an Organic Market in One Day

Okay, so here is what's happening on the ranch. It's been beautiful, no rain - until today! I was going to finish mowing the lawn today and work in the flower beds, but apparently that ain't gonna happen. I am however, the proud new owner of a reel mower - YES! - no gasoline, no oil, just arms and legs! Woo hoo! Just another step toward lightening our ecological footprint. Of course, I do realize that losing about 80 pounds would definitely lighten my footprint, but (snort, snort) all things in good time. Actually, Alex and I went to the Union Street Market Friday and enjoyed a really wonderful organic, vegetarian lunch. We are still enjoying some of the bread we bought too - excellent Ezekiel and whole wheat bread baked by the owners. The Union Street Market is a really amazing place. I found it through Local Harvest and decided I HAD to go there that day. You can place an order for anything they have up to and including any ingredients with which they cook. You can email a grocery list by Wednesday night and Friday you can pick it up - Voila - you have wonderfully fresh, organic food for your tummy. I had the Oven Baked Peanut Butter Tofu , Marinated Kale Greens and a freshly baked whole wheat yeast roll. I started out with a very tasty salad of mixed greens with little grape tomatoes, sprouts, grated beets and carrots and because I couldn't decide, Robbie - one of the owners - brought me both the creamy dill and the blueberry vinaigrette to top it all off. I still can't decide - they're both awesome. Last but not least is the exquisite blueberry sorbet that was so good Alex had to have another dish just to be sure. Robbie and Coleman, the owners immediately made us feel welcome with their warm personalities and a sample of their Kombucha tea. Although it's not for everyone, everyone should at least try it once. Good for the digestion.
All in all, it was totally worth the hour long drive, especially since I got to
cruise back through one of the towns I lived in when I was a kid. Needless to say, that part was a lot more fun for me than it was for my 18 year old. The verdict - I would definitely go back - to eat AND to pick up my groceries. The Van Goats would totally love it.

Can Goats Garden? I Don't Think So.....

Things are looking kind of bleak for the garden this year after a good beginner's attempt at organic vegetable gardening last year. Last year was the ground-breaker (pun intended) for growing our own food instead of just flowers and herbs, and it was so exciting to bring peppers, carrots and tomatoes straight from the garden to the kitchen. I didn't have to worry about what kind of dressing the lettuce might already be wearing because I knew it was naked except for a little bit of dirt and the occasional nibble mark. I want that feeling again (and I want the taste of those vegetables again!) and I've been thinking about it since I picked the last tomato, but now I'm not sure if I'll be able to do the whole gardening thing this year and I'm kinda bummed. I've gardened since I moved into this house in 2006 (okay - there were a few earlier, pitiful attempts prior to 2006) and it has been a source of joy and excellent therapy, but last year's garden moved into a whole 'nother dimension. Let's face it - you cannot dig in the garden after having a hip replacement - anybody will tell you that, up to and including the rabbits that try to eat the lettuce. I saw a man lying on the walkway in front of his house the other day, and I was like," holy shit - dude fell and he can't get up!! Wait! Dude fell and can't get up, so he decided to pass the time until someone finds him weeding the flower bed. Damn - now that's a real man." Then I realized that it could be me lying on the sidewalk weeding the flower bed in the not too distant future. I know the Van Goats would be willing to help me, but they don't know a pansy from a pepper and they'd just eat everything anyway.

I May Not be Normal, but I Would Still Like to be Me.

Well, after recuperating at my sister's house for 5 weeks, I'm back home with my kids, the Van Goats and their kids. I have missed being here with my kids more than I can say, but after the first 10 arguments, I sort of started remembering how much I enjoyed the peace and quiet at my sister's house. Yikes - I thought they would at least wait 24 hours before trying to out smart -ass each other. I'm such a boob! As if! My entire existence felt like it was turned upside down when I had a hip replacement - I thought that at the very least I would get a modicum of respect after having half my ass sawed off. How's that for being egotistical? Life goes on - I've learned now that nothing changes that no matter how earth- shaking an event may seem. I just wish that I felt like life is really going on - I still feel like life is going on without me. I'm ready to feel like my normal self again - whatever that is.

In MY dreams.......

I have missed my Van Goats so much since I've been recuperating at my sister's house after the surgery, that I have started dreaming about them every night. I know - very strange. Yesterday I went home and spent some quality time with them and it was the closest thing that I've felt in a really long time. I was afraid that they had forgotten me or didn't love me anymore, but my fears were unfounded. Vanessa, of course, had to give me the cold shoulder for a few minutes, but she got over it. Little Lily and Pixie came running up to me for rubbies and Twister is still a bitch. I'm happy that I can still remember the days when she wasn't. I went with a little present for Vincent - a new collar since he outgrew his old one. A goat with such a strong propensity for extreme orneriness needs some type of device besides horns for grabbage. I bought him one of those nice very strong ones that has the big slippy closure (see - I can be really technical when I want to be.) and it's made of that really strong stuff - I dunno, nylon maybe? Anyhoo, he checked it out, I put it on him and he strutted around for about 15 minutes before trying to make it with Twister again. Wow - that almost never happens.

This is Vincent Van Goat saying......

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Originally uploaded by lr4rr

Oh yeah, I'm a stud... and I'm fixin to tap THAT!

And this is Twister saying.....


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Originally uploaded by lr4rr

In YOUR dreams....you big pig!

Not so secretly, they're really hot for each other.

You can wear your hair any way you want on the ranch......

This is a picture of my little pixie after she got her hair cut today - happy as a clam she was. I have to admit I was overcome when I saw her. She made me sit out in the waiting area because she's a big girl now and when she came running out to show me her do I was beside myself. To state the obvious, she looks absolutely adorable with that hair cut (of course I'm not biased - she is totally working that do!) The other reason is that it makes me happy that she is not afraid to be different from all the other chicklets. I have noticed that these days, GIRLZ DO NOT WEAR THEIR HAIRS SHORT. (I know - it's incredible how observant I am. ) It's not that I think they should or anything - I think everyone should their hair the way they want to and to hell with what everyone else thinks. Having been married to two men who were obnoxious in their preference to long hair, this is one soapbox in particular that compels me to pull out my stepladder and haul my fat ass on up. I don't have anything against lesbians - one of my best friends is a lesbian- but I cannot freakin stand a man who is so insecure in his own manhood that he has to call a woman with a short haircut a dyke as punishment for having the audacity to wear a hairstyle he doesn't like. No less offensive - well maybe just a titch less offensive - is a man who withholds affection because he is displeased that his woman has knowingly gone out and flown in the face of his wishes and gotten the wrong do. Do freakin hoo! No really, please do not grow some balls and be happy to be with a woman who wears her hair to please herself and is her own person. Of course, everybody knows that the real reason why men want women to have long hair is so that they can have something to yank her head back with in the middle of sex. You know, like " By God, I'll make you scream one way or another - makes no difference to me."

My daughter, even at the tender of age of 6, has never been afraid to march to the beat of her own drummer. I admire and respect that about her and I pray that it never changes. Sometimes I have fears about her refusal to go along with the crowd. What if they are mean to her - shah - like there's a chance they won't be. Some of the things those kids say to each other makes my ass crawl. Some of those little girls are so critical about every little thing- I'm talking brutal. I've been there when she's barely gotten through the door of her classroom and some little girl has something to say about what she's wearing because it doesn't conform to what she feels is appropriate. What the hell is that all about? Well it's not like some adults don't feed the monster . I took her one place to get her hair cut and she wanted to get it cut short. The stylist refused to cut it short because she was afraid the other kids would make fun of her. Tip? Here's your tip, miss hairspray 2009 - put the top up on your convertible when it rains.

I tried before today's haircut to see what her perspective on the hair length issue was. "Sweetie, do you know anyone that has a short haircut?" "Yes - Cooper does. I could look like him. " Well that's good enough for me.

You know, it should be said that all of the Van Goats have short hair - even the girls. Hell - some of the girls even have beards and their men apparently still think they are HOT. Sometimes the backyard looks like "Goats Gone Wild - Raunchy Ranch Edition."

Death by Farm Frenzy

My sister, Bibi, introduced me to the Yahoo game, Farm Frenzy 2, thereby leading me to the conclusion that she is evil and should probably be cast out of our family. I stayed up til 3:30 this morning playing this stupid game even though, having taken a Benadryl and a pain pill (no I don't have a drug problem - I had a total hip replacement a month ago and rehab is rough sometimes.)I sat there obsessively watering the grass for the cows, chickens, and pigs, upgrading my farm equipment and making bacon until I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I was literally falling asleep and still moving the mouse. WTF is up with that? Don't they know what they do to people?Like Twitter and Blip.fm don't suck enough time out of my life. Once you get started you can't stop - it sucks you in like an F-5 tornado sucks up cows. So, I'm just warning you - stay away from the tornado - don't chase it to take pictures. Get the hell away from it! But in case you have a strange fixation on tornadoes, here's the link: death by Farm Frenzy 2. (Btw laptop users, a mouse makes this game about 50 times more fun. Before I got mine I was only staying up til midnight.)

WANTED

Have you seen these goats?




Gus Van Goat









Twister Van Goat









These two goats are wanted in connection with a crime committed in the southeastern Tennessee area. It seems a mother and her two children had observed unexplained, repeated flooding in their backyard. On various occasions, the mother or one of the children would go in their backyard or look out the window only to see water standing in the backyard and the garden hose running with no one having turned on the water. This continued on for several months until finally one day the son observed one Twister Van Goat turning the water faucet on with her nose while her son Gus stood watch. Unfortunately, there were no security cameras on the property , but the two goats were clearly caught in the act. Twister and Gus immediately fled the premises and their whereabouts are not known at this time. It is a known fact that they are both armed, but usually not dangerous. Of course, when backed into a corner, all bets are off.

P.S. This is a totally true story, however Twister and Gus are not on the lam - they are residing happily in their yard where they receive two square meals a day (hay in the morning and feed in the evening) and all the water they can drink.

Release your inner dj.....

Thanks to a fellow tweeter, I discovered a fun little thing called Blip.fm and now I am having more fun than the law allows with playing and listening to tunes. Did you ever want to be a dj but just didn't think you had what it takes? Don't like the sound of your voice? No worries - no one's hearing you - you just pick your song and type a few words if you want to. Don't have a lot of music - it's already there just search it. One of the nice things is discovering music you haven't heard before. It's too bad you can't get paid for this.

Hi. Yeah......I'm back. Just got a new computer so I'm sitting here drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette - it is THAT GOOD!!! (Okay, I don't really smoke and since the surgery, I don't drink either - I tried to drink a Margarita the other day at Red Lobster for my sister's birthday. After 5 sips, my head almost exploded! What's that all about?) Omigosh - I have missed having a computer so much......you just don't know................or maybe you do...........WTF. Anyway, I'm so happy. Of course from here on out I'll be as worthless as tits on a boarhog because I'll be wanting to blog in the shower and everything, don't YOU know!!!!! And check it - this baby has a webcam. Ok, so I'm a dork, but I've never had a webcam before. In the immortal words of Ferris Bueller - "It is so choice!" I am really looking forward to checking out everyone else's blogs again too because I have really missed reading what other people have to say. Some of my faves? Well......Not Afraid to Use It; Dooce; Queen of Shake Shake and Mrs. Mogul to name a few. It's not that easy to stay on top of these things on a Blackberry, although it is considerably better than nothing. Okay, so I'm going to start surfing - no alcohol included.

Reality TV....................Van Goat style.

Being a surgical nurse, I've always wondered how elderly people survive these total joint replacements because let me tell you - I've seen enough to know it's a MAJOR surgery. Now, having had a total hip replacement, I'm REALLY wondering, because having half your ass sawed off and sewn back on again is MAJOR F$%#ing surgery!


So here I am with my black and blue - not bionic- butt, doing my exercises, wearing my anti -blood clot stockings, taking my anti -blood clot medication and scaring the begeezus out of the cat by tearing around with my super bad-ass deluxe racing walker. Actually, my sister's cat since I'm staying with her until I am rehabbed enough to be able to get up the steps into my house.


Of course, there's always a silver lining in every cloud. I don't have cable in my house, but my sister does. I've getting to watch all the Law & Order I can possibly handle as well as all the old sitcoms I haven't seen in years. I've also discovered a whole new world of tv shows out there as well. I'm ashamed to admit that I've been watching Real Wives of New York and Millionaire Matchmaker. (That last one was because I lost the remote and didn't feel like getting up to change the channel.) It's just amazing what they are putting on tv now. This does, however, inspire me to have my own tv show - can you imagine? The boundaries are endless. Real Goats of Dallas Bay. People are going to love it!

The Face of a Person on the Edge......

Ok.....well I'm not really on the edge now, but it has been that kind of day. You know your world really ain't right when you decide the best picture for your profile on Facebook is the one that doesn't show the zit on your chin. Forget how the rest of the picture looks. So until a better zit-free picture comes along, this is the one.

Tomorrow is a big day. I'll be leaving for the hospital at the butt-crack of dawn for surgery. I'm getting a bionic butt. Well - half a bionic butt. Well, really it's just a total hip replacement, but it might be all metal so that counts doesn't it? I'm excited!! After almost a year of protecting the recliner from unwanted intruders - and I DO take my job seriously - this time tomorrow I'll walking around on a brand new half -ass. (I don't think there are any implications there - my doctor is the best!) The VanGoats are excited of course as they have really missed my presence out in the yard. I do visit them , but the visits are short and not many. I miss them so much. Talking to them out the window just isn't the same. I think they miss me too.