If you think this blog is funny, read Any Given Mom, Any Given Day
Gathering at my middle sister's home for the holidays, my eldest sister raises a question that never occurred to me before: Do cars go through menopause? She owns a 10 year Hyundai Santa Fe that she swears is going through menopause. An air conditioning malfunction generates some powerful hot flashes for passengers. Acceleration is inconsistent, best described as "pokey." Cosmetically, it is in a nether region: Not the worst, but has seen better days. Needs detailing but hardly seems worth the bother.
What I wonder is, what happens to the car on the other side of menopause? Does it up and leave for France with little more than its passport in the glove compartment, looking for the automotive equivalent of Eat, Pray, Love ? Does is crash into the front of health food stores in a desperate bid for Black Cohash? Go back to school for Art History?
Or perhaps that is the driver of the car?
Monday, December 23, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
First World Problems
My husband laughs at my self-styled "bifocals" (which consist of me wearing my regular glasses AND a pair of drug store reading glasses), but the truth is I just haven't had time to get to the eye doctor. Here is some of the first-world drama that has eaten up my time:
Last month a young woman driving without insurance blew through a red light and totaled my truck. So, in the blink of an eye, I was transformed from a teacher looking forward to her week to a patient who was also in need of a new vehicle.
Then, with breathtaking boldness, my insurance adjuster lied to me and told me I did not have bodily injury coverage for uninsured motorist accidents. In a way, though, she did me a favor. This outrageous lie made me see I needed an attorney TO HELP ME WITH MY OWN INSURANCE COMPANY!!!
Getting an attorney eased the stress of the claim, but I'm still staggering around with terrible headaches. I have moved on from the regular doctors to the chiropractor, who IS helping me, although the adjustments are so strong sometimes they scare me...
Meanwhile, my younger son has been in angst for weeks over what to make for his secret Santa person. His teacher decreed that this gift could not be store bought, I'm sure to 'help' us parents. So now instead of buying some cute little trinket for a few dollars, I get to hold his hand while he agonizes over the fact that he can't make her a cupcake because she has intolerances to various foods.
Keeping in mind that all of this is minor compared to having a typhoon wash through your village, my prayers always include these words: Lord, bless those who suffer, bless those who mourn. Bless parents everywhere, and help them to care for their children. Hold all of our children in the palm of Your hand. Amen.
Last month a young woman driving without insurance blew through a red light and totaled my truck. So, in the blink of an eye, I was transformed from a teacher looking forward to her week to a patient who was also in need of a new vehicle.
Then, with breathtaking boldness, my insurance adjuster lied to me and told me I did not have bodily injury coverage for uninsured motorist accidents. In a way, though, she did me a favor. This outrageous lie made me see I needed an attorney TO HELP ME WITH MY OWN INSURANCE COMPANY!!!
Getting an attorney eased the stress of the claim, but I'm still staggering around with terrible headaches. I have moved on from the regular doctors to the chiropractor, who IS helping me, although the adjustments are so strong sometimes they scare me...
Meanwhile, my younger son has been in angst for weeks over what to make for his secret Santa person. His teacher decreed that this gift could not be store bought, I'm sure to 'help' us parents. So now instead of buying some cute little trinket for a few dollars, I get to hold his hand while he agonizes over the fact that he can't make her a cupcake because she has intolerances to various foods.
Keeping in mind that all of this is minor compared to having a typhoon wash through your village, my prayers always include these words: Lord, bless those who suffer, bless those who mourn. Bless parents everywhere, and help them to care for their children. Hold all of our children in the palm of Your hand. Amen.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Innovations by Jack
My son Jack is known as a quick wit. For example, in an attempt to illustrate my devotion I told my husband Joe that "I love Joe" is one of my passwords at work.
Jack quipped "But you meant coffee, not Dad!"
The sad truth is, there may have been just a grain of truth in what he said.
Another of my favorite inventions by Jack also involves coffee. He shared it one morning during our usual chaotic ride to school. I was slurping coffee and trying to mitigate a fight in the back seat when my cell phone rang. Given my desire to drink my coffee and the fact that I was driving on the highway at 70 MPH, I decided not to answer it. Just then, Jack saw the potential. "Ma" he proclaimed "you need a cell phone coffee maker!"
Whether the ideas are feasible or not, Jack does come up with some unexpected things. The other evening I was nagging him to floss his teeth. He said would floss, but he wanted bacon flavored dental floss. And I couldn't even argue with him, because it was pure genius. Bacon flavored dental floss. Maybe we could team up with one of those retro cooking shows, the ones where the chefs use plenty of butter, and grab most of the market share for high-fat floss.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Law of Attraction, or, How King McFluffins Came to Stay
If you think this blog is funny, read Any Given Mom, Any Given Day
on Amazon
*****************************************
I hesitate to admit this openly, but I have a psychic power. If I visualize certain things coming to me, they almost always appear in my life. Frustratingly, those things are almost always animals.
Here is a case in point: My younger son, Jack, has always wanted a pet bunny but until recently I resisted. Then I realized that since we already take care of five dogs, ten (barn) cats, three cows, and a flock of chickens, taking care of one more critter couldn't add that much work. So I started checking the Craigslist pet section for a free bunny, as I have noticed that people sometimes give away pet bunnies complete with the cage and the whole setup.
However, I did not undertake the search for a bunny very earnestly, as we have had a busy summer. In fact, I wasn't searching at all when my husband came home from work two weeks ago and said the strangest thing had happened. One of his co-workers had emailed him out of the blue and offered him a pet bunny, complete with a hutch.
When my husband found out I had actually been thinking about getting a bunny, he said "Will you please stop using your power on bunnies and concentrate on the lottery?!?!?" However, he quickly became resigned to the situation, and we trundled off one evening in my truck to pick up the bunny and the hutch. Or so we thought.
We arrived at his co-worker's house, which was in a very upscale neighborhood, and quickly saw why they wanted out of the bunny business. The bunny himself was a gentle black rabbit with extremely large back feet and powerful hind legs (more on that later), while the hutch was a hulking piece of makeshift carpentry that even two men together could not lift. It looked completely out of place in their landscaped back yard; further, his teenage children had lost interest in their pet.
There was no point in us trying to move the hutch, even if we had really wanted it, which we did not: This is the kind of thing you'd be better off burning where it stands. Anyway, we stuffed the bunny, which my younger son quickly renamed "King McFluffins," into a dog kennel and drove home.
King McFluffins is a good companion for Jack, who likes to hold the bunny on his lap. I also bought a little dog harness and leash that we can put on King McFluffins, so sometimes Jack takes him for a hop around the yard.
My vet told me that rabbits can easily get heat stressed in our climate, so yesterday we got an indoor cage and set it up in the mud room. You would think that it would be easy to transition a cute, harmless bunny to life indoors...however, this is life on the farm after all, where entropy often rears its ugly head.
My husband went out to the barn with Jack to get King McFluffins from the stall where we had been keeping him. The weather has been terrible here lately, rain almost every day for two weeks. It seems everything is damp and muddy, including King McFluffins' paws. I had my doubts when my husband suggested putting him in the kitchen sink for a quick wash of his paws and belly, but I didn't have a better solution.
Here is my advice if you are considering putting a full grown rabbit in your kitchen sink and spraying him with the little hose nozzle spray thingy: Don't try it. It can only result in great unhappiness. King McFluffins went from passive fluffball to raging terror in a split second. He kicked so wildly that my husband had to let him go for a moment, and the next thing we knew there was muddy water everywhere and King McFluffins had broken a wine glass that happened to be sitting on the counter several feet away (and no, in case you are wondering, I was not bathing bunnies under the influence, although in retrospect that might not have been a been idea...).
Eventually we got everything settled down and King McFluffins is now enjoying his indoor cage, with jaunts outside to nibble at clover. Meanwhile, I am trying a new tactic to hone my power: I am visualizing King McFluffins at the Powerball prize ceremony, King McFluffins on a cruise, King McFluffins paying off the farm... hey, it's worth a try.
If you think this blog is funny, read Any Given Mom, Any Given Day
on Amazon
on Amazon
*****************************************
I hesitate to admit this openly, but I have a psychic power. If I visualize certain things coming to me, they almost always appear in my life. Frustratingly, those things are almost always animals.
Here is a case in point: My younger son, Jack, has always wanted a pet bunny but until recently I resisted. Then I realized that since we already take care of five dogs, ten (barn) cats, three cows, and a flock of chickens, taking care of one more critter couldn't add that much work. So I started checking the Craigslist pet section for a free bunny, as I have noticed that people sometimes give away pet bunnies complete with the cage and the whole setup.
However, I did not undertake the search for a bunny very earnestly, as we have had a busy summer. In fact, I wasn't searching at all when my husband came home from work two weeks ago and said the strangest thing had happened. One of his co-workers had emailed him out of the blue and offered him a pet bunny, complete with a hutch.
When my husband found out I had actually been thinking about getting a bunny, he said "Will you please stop using your power on bunnies and concentrate on the lottery?!?!?" However, he quickly became resigned to the situation, and we trundled off one evening in my truck to pick up the bunny and the hutch. Or so we thought.
We arrived at his co-worker's house, which was in a very upscale neighborhood, and quickly saw why they wanted out of the bunny business. The bunny himself was a gentle black rabbit with extremely large back feet and powerful hind legs (more on that later), while the hutch was a hulking piece of makeshift carpentry that even two men together could not lift. It looked completely out of place in their landscaped back yard; further, his teenage children had lost interest in their pet.
There was no point in us trying to move the hutch, even if we had really wanted it, which we did not: This is the kind of thing you'd be better off burning where it stands. Anyway, we stuffed the bunny, which my younger son quickly renamed "King McFluffins," into a dog kennel and drove home.
King McFluffins is a good companion for Jack, who likes to hold the bunny on his lap. I also bought a little dog harness and leash that we can put on King McFluffins, so sometimes Jack takes him for a hop around the yard.
My vet told me that rabbits can easily get heat stressed in our climate, so yesterday we got an indoor cage and set it up in the mud room. You would think that it would be easy to transition a cute, harmless bunny to life indoors...however, this is life on the farm after all, where entropy often rears its ugly head.
My husband went out to the barn with Jack to get King McFluffins from the stall where we had been keeping him. The weather has been terrible here lately, rain almost every day for two weeks. It seems everything is damp and muddy, including King McFluffins' paws. I had my doubts when my husband suggested putting him in the kitchen sink for a quick wash of his paws and belly, but I didn't have a better solution.
Here is my advice if you are considering putting a full grown rabbit in your kitchen sink and spraying him with the little hose nozzle spray thingy: Don't try it. It can only result in great unhappiness. King McFluffins went from passive fluffball to raging terror in a split second. He kicked so wildly that my husband had to let him go for a moment, and the next thing we knew there was muddy water everywhere and King McFluffins had broken a wine glass that happened to be sitting on the counter several feet away (and no, in case you are wondering, I was not bathing bunnies under the influence, although in retrospect that might not have been a been idea...).
Eventually we got everything settled down and King McFluffins is now enjoying his indoor cage, with jaunts outside to nibble at clover. Meanwhile, I am trying a new tactic to hone my power: I am visualizing King McFluffins at the Powerball prize ceremony, King McFluffins on a cruise, King McFluffins paying off the farm... hey, it's worth a try.
If you think this blog is funny, read Any Given Mom, Any Given Day
on Amazon
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Adventures in Road Food
If you think this blog is funny, order Any Given Mom, Any Given Day from Amazon
**************************
Halfway there, we pulled into a gas station. After pumping gas, my husband and my older son disappeared into the quickmart and emerged with several novel food choices. Who knew that you could buy super hot BBQ corn nuts? However, it was the new potato chip flavor that amazed me the most: I kid you not, it was "chicken and waffles."
Now, when in life do you see chicken combined with waffles? Even more bizarre, as a flavor for potato chips? I theorized that the major shareholder of the company had died suddenly, and that control of the company had passed to his 20-year-old stoner son. However, that is just a theory and I cannot prove it...I took my phone out and dialed the 800 number on the back of the bag. However, in an obvious effort to frustrate consumers who wanted answers on the chicken and waffle combination, that number is only operational during office hours on weekdays during central standard time. I ask you, is that an obvious dodge, or what?
As for the super hot corn nuts, they also factored into the events of the day. There was a folk group playing before my time slot, and I was sitting there listening to the music. Joe had taken the boys outside to see the exhibits, or so I thought...
The folk group had come down off the stage to get closer to the audience while performing a moving a capella song about a dying grandmother. Then-- BOOF!-- the door burst open and my older son came into the hall, ran between the group and the audience, and out the other side of the hall to the water fountain. Apparently, my guys had been out there giving each other dares about how many of the super hot corn nuts they could eat...
What with all the possible road food adventures, sometimes it's hard even to find time for the cultural things!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Middle Aged Fantasies
If you think this blog is funny, order Any Given Mom, Any Given Day from Amazon
**************************
When one is young, the sky is the limit on fantasies. Maybe you dreamed of being a rock star, a fighter pilot, or a bestselling author (I don't have enough musical talent for rock stardom, and my vision isn't good enough to fly, but I'm still working on the writing....)
Anyway, the point is, when we're young our fantasies are grand, sweeping affairs. We're the best, the most attractive, the most compelling. We can hardly get through dinner at a restaurant for all the autograph seekers. Finances are never an issue, for in our minds we will go through life throwing money over our shoulders to take care of "that," whatever that may be, whether it's a new wardrobe or a villa in Italy.
Then reality sets in. Your entry level job was not designed to lead anywhere. Romances come and go, and your vision of who your significant other needs to be starts to shift. You might go from needing "tall, dark and handsome" to "NOT a psycho who watches television all weekend." Your body gradually starts to betray you, especially after having children; one day you look down and ask "Is that really cellulite????"
Fortunately, you're too busy to dwell on all this for long. Yet every once in a while you might pause in between doing laundry and making your kid fill out his reading log, and fantasize. Only this time the fantasies look a little different, more grounded. They might look something like this:
- Your older kid, the absent-minded one, actually brings his lunch bag and his jacket home on the same day.
- When you open your social security statement it doesn't say "according to our estimates, you're screwed."
- The dirty clothes all magically land in the hamper instead of composting in random locations through the house.
- When you begin a sentence with "My goal for today is..." your family doesn't look at you in confusion and say "Michael? Who is Michael?"
- Your child actually does his entire school project by himself, no nagging involved (this happened once, and it was GLORIOUS).
- Your husband stops feeling a certain urge... for collecting. We have collections of Star Wars ships, dead things we found on the farm (finally made my guys move that collection off the kitchen hutch), old bottles, and hundreds of Lego sets and toys.
Still and all, I have to say we have it pretty good. These are the only things I would change about our life together, so truly, I am blessed!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Dog Days
New!! Read/share "Any Given Mom" on Kindle!!!
You might think that by using the phrase "dog days" I mean to invoke long lazy summer days, humidity, swimming, cold lemonade... but no, I really mean dog days, as in, panting, shedding, muddy critters. The ones who won't rest if your kitchen floor is too clean. The ones who bark at strangers... and your neighbors, too.
We've had unnatural amounts of rain alternating with heat, and the flea population exploded. This has never happened before, but we actually had fleas in the feed room in the barn. I bombed it three times, and still they were jumping on our ankles when we went in the feed room. It almost made me think twice and about feeding the animals.
Anyway, this problem could not be solved by a few squirts of flea spray for the dogs and barn cats. I kept washing the dog beds and bathing the dogs (who are restricted to the kitchen when inside), but I lived in terror of a flea infestation in the house. If you have ever had fleas in a house, you'll know that having a poltergeist doesn't look too bad by comparison. Having a troublesome ghost break a few glasses would be vastly preferable to being eaten alive from the ankles up.
I have never had fleas infest my house, thank goodness, but a realtor once showed me a house that was full of fleas. I should have taken my cue from the fact that the floor was jacked up in places with rusty bottle jacks (yes, I mean the kind of jack you would use for a car). However, being young and foolish, I went inside the old house. I almost had to get a transfusion later to reverse the blood loss.
But I digress. So I had this problem, the fleas on the pets I mean, but as a teacher who is not making money in the summer I had to solve the problem in an economical way. In the end I went to Costco and purchased their house brand of spot-on flea treatment: All the chemical potency of a name brand for half the price. $60 later, the animals are flea free.
How smugly I congratulated myself on solving what I thought was the biggest canine challenge of the summer! Alas, pride goeth before a fall. Yesterday, I called our small dogs in from the yard. Our normally perky little Dachshund dragged up the steps of the deck, and I noticed that one entire side of his face was swollen. Picking him up, it was easy to spot the source of the problem: Two little fang holes on the top of his pointy nose, which apparently he had stuck somewhere it didn't belong.
As everyone who has ever lived in the country with dogs knows, when it comes to dog vs. snake, the snake almost always wins. Not in the sense that the bite is often fatal, mind you-- NO-- that would be too quick and economical. The snake wins by injecting chaos and expense: There's the automatic $300 vet bill, the moaning children, and the disruption to the day... and the further evidence of why they call this time the "dog days" of summer. When you live with dogs, truly your summer is not your own!
Monday, July 8, 2013
New Marital Fantasies
New!! Read/share "Any Given Mom" on Kindle!!!
Surely, I can't be the only 40-something whose fantasies have undergone a certain evolution. I would call it a maturation process, but somehow that makes me feel depressed. So now I just say "it is what it is."
Here is another thing that is what it is: You know how, when you go to Cracker Barrel, you see those old married couples who say NOTHING to one another for the entire meal? They're not looking at smart phones, either. Apparently, they just ran out of things to say.
Anyway, my fantasy is that when my husband and I are retired and finish a meal at Cracker Barrel, he will follow me adoringly around the gift store. I imagine him holding up a ceramic lamp in the shape of a chicken and saying, "Honey, you are the light of my life. I am so fortunate that you are my wife, I would do anything for you. Would you like this chicken lamp?"
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Wedding Adventures
New!! Read/share "Any Given Mom" on Kindle!!!
My family and I are in NY this weekend at my niece's wedding, a lovely occasion during which my niece and her new husband never once appeared flustered. However, as I looked around at the reception and glimpsed my older son eating a piece of bloody roast beef with his bare hands (I wrested it from him before his grandmother could see), I was reminded that not every wedding goes so smoothly.
My own wedding ceremony suffered from the classic gridlock at the front of the bridal procession when our flower girl melted down and refused to walk down the aisle, much less scatter the rose petals. Apparently, that is a fairly common occurrence. Years later the same thing happened to my sister (different flower girl, even).
All the fuss and stress might lead one to wonder, is this really good for us? It's enough to make a bride bolt. To lighten the pressure I strongly suggest getting pre-married; Joe and I were. We were legally married in a quickie wedding chapel six months before our church/family wedding. It was actually a lovely occasion. Two friends came to be witnesses, that was all, and when we walked down that aisle an employee solemnly pushed a button on an old cassette tape recorder, filling the room with the strains of the Carpenters' "We've Only Just Begun... to Live..." Very sweet. Afterwards, they gave the happy couple the option of taking pictures with a plastic cake and an empty punch bowl.
However one gets married, I do believe that everyone should try it once!
My family and I are in NY this weekend at my niece's wedding, a lovely occasion during which my niece and her new husband never once appeared flustered. However, as I looked around at the reception and glimpsed my older son eating a piece of bloody roast beef with his bare hands (I wrested it from him before his grandmother could see), I was reminded that not every wedding goes so smoothly.
My own wedding ceremony suffered from the classic gridlock at the front of the bridal procession when our flower girl melted down and refused to walk down the aisle, much less scatter the rose petals. Apparently, that is a fairly common occurrence. Years later the same thing happened to my sister (different flower girl, even).
All the fuss and stress might lead one to wonder, is this really good for us? It's enough to make a bride bolt. To lighten the pressure I strongly suggest getting pre-married; Joe and I were. We were legally married in a quickie wedding chapel six months before our church/family wedding. It was actually a lovely occasion. Two friends came to be witnesses, that was all, and when we walked down that aisle an employee solemnly pushed a button on an old cassette tape recorder, filling the room with the strains of the Carpenters' "We've Only Just Begun... to Live..." Very sweet. Afterwards, they gave the happy couple the option of taking pictures with a plastic cake and an empty punch bowl.
However one gets married, I do believe that everyone should try it once!
Monday, June 3, 2013
Praying for Abundance
Lord, help me to align my thoughts and my actions with your will for me. Help me to channel love, peace, gratitude and abundance. However, just to be a little more specific, I don't mean the kind of abundance in which someone gives me a box of kittens. Further, we are already abundantly wealthy in Lego mini-figures (I think my husband is trying to corner the market). Also, we have quite a few chickens due to certain people (who shall remain unnamed) caving in to the cuteness of the chicks at the hardware store this spring. We probably don't need more eggs.
Lord, we live in abundance, and for that I am grateful. Thank you for all of the grass in the empty pastures that I mow, please send us affordable calves to eat the grass. Please help me to stay strong when someone offers me 'free' ex-racehorses that need endless joint injections and equine acupuncture. Help me to recall that we will probably want to retire someday, and that our children may not get basketball scholarships to college (especially given that they don't play basketball now...)
In conclusion, Lord, thank you our family and our home. Help me to keep appreciating the healthful abundance we do have, such as the plums on the gnarly looking tree, and to keep avoiding the abundance that is not so healthful, namely the coupons for free Hardee's fries. Help me to share my simple thoughts of appreciation with others. Amen.
Lord, we live in abundance, and for that I am grateful. Thank you for all of the grass in the empty pastures that I mow, please send us affordable calves to eat the grass. Please help me to stay strong when someone offers me 'free' ex-racehorses that need endless joint injections and equine acupuncture. Help me to recall that we will probably want to retire someday, and that our children may not get basketball scholarships to college (especially given that they don't play basketball now...)
In conclusion, Lord, thank you our family and our home. Help me to keep appreciating the healthful abundance we do have, such as the plums on the gnarly looking tree, and to keep avoiding the abundance that is not so healthful, namely the coupons for free Hardee's fries. Help me to share my simple thoughts of appreciation with others. Amen.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Just Snoozing, I mean, Reviewing the Files in My Mind
Do you find that your older child(ren) will nap sometimes, but rarely when you want them to? Do you find that your own capacity to relax and snooze has been shredded by years of being hyper-vigilant at home and at work?
This morning was a prime example. My older son was up half the night with a bad migraine, and my younger son had a sore throat. I did feel bad about calling in, but (as I reminded myself) I am a mother before I am a teacher. So I left my colleagues to manage the makeup testing that is still going on at school, checked on my older son who was still asleep after such a bad night, and lay down with my younger son to snooze so we could both try to recover. Or so I thought.
A few minutes after I closed my eyes, it started.
"Ma? Give me your hand, I want you to feel my lung, it's beating really fast."
"Ma? If the bad weather gives Alden migraines [I had told Jack that changing air pressure and storms seem to bring on his brother's migraines], then maybe we should keep him from watching the weather report on the news."
"Ma? You might feel something sharp, sorry, I left some shark teeth in this blanket."
That was actually the last straw, I got up and drank coffee instead. So much for my attempt to snooze or (as Jack calls it) "review the files in my mind"!
*****If you think this blog is funny, read an excerpt of my book here "Horsewomen in Foal and Other Equestrian Adventures" -- this comes with my exclusive Laugh Until You Pee Guarantee (certain exclusions apply: guarantee only good for women who have had at least two children)
This morning was a prime example. My older son was up half the night with a bad migraine, and my younger son had a sore throat. I did feel bad about calling in, but (as I reminded myself) I am a mother before I am a teacher. So I left my colleagues to manage the makeup testing that is still going on at school, checked on my older son who was still asleep after such a bad night, and lay down with my younger son to snooze so we could both try to recover. Or so I thought.
A few minutes after I closed my eyes, it started.
"Ma? Give me your hand, I want you to feel my lung, it's beating really fast."
"Ma? If the bad weather gives Alden migraines [I had told Jack that changing air pressure and storms seem to bring on his brother's migraines], then maybe we should keep him from watching the weather report on the news."
"Ma? You might feel something sharp, sorry, I left some shark teeth in this blanket."
That was actually the last straw, I got up and drank coffee instead. So much for my attempt to snooze or (as Jack calls it) "review the files in my mind"!
*****If you think this blog is funny, read an excerpt of my book here "Horsewomen in Foal and Other Equestrian Adventures" -- this comes with my exclusive Laugh Until You Pee Guarantee (certain exclusions apply: guarantee only good for women who have had at least two children)
Saturday, May 18, 2013
The Project
Have you ever started a project that haunted you, something that turned into a prolonged nightmare? If you have, you will probably laugh as much as I did over this recent Craigslist ad:
Free twelve-foot-long Banshee sailboat hull. Hull is in poor condition with fading paint, holes below the waterline, and missing transom. Was purchased as a project two years ago and has been sitting in my backyard ever since, leaving a blighted boat-shaped patch where no grass will ever grow again. I am moving out and need it gone soon. Would make a fun summer project, or a unique planter/ yard decoration. Or use it for target practice for small arms fire. Honestly, I don't care what you do with it. Fill it up with water and make it a jacuzzi. Set it on fire. If nobody responds, I'm going to take the foam out, open all the hatch covers, tow it several miles out into the Atlantic, and let Poseidon reclaim his rightful property. Would also make a nice artificial reef.
Note the tone of this ad, which swings from realism to desperation to a muted acknowledgement that there might yet be something alive that would appreciate this item, even if that something is barnacle.
I have never invited anyone to set my home project on fire, but I have sometimes experienced profound frustration. The worst part about projects is that you really have no one to blame but yourself. What exactly was I thinking, painting the living room baby blue? Why do I still have rolls of Looney Tunes borders for the boys' room, when my boys are 10 and 12? And outdoors-- don't get me started on outdoors. Just today I was asking myself, how did that vine, the one that has no apparent connection to the ground, grow above the window and into the rain gutter?
Working all week, we are not home enough, so there is always a lot to do around our small farm on the weekends. Sometimes we get overwhelmed. However, each morning on my way to work I pass a cemetery, and I remind myself of one important thing: Those people don't have a to-do list.
Free twelve-foot-long Banshee sailboat hull. Hull is in poor condition with fading paint, holes below the waterline, and missing transom. Was purchased as a project two years ago and has been sitting in my backyard ever since, leaving a blighted boat-shaped patch where no grass will ever grow again. I am moving out and need it gone soon. Would make a fun summer project, or a unique planter/ yard decoration. Or use it for target practice for small arms fire. Honestly, I don't care what you do with it. Fill it up with water and make it a jacuzzi. Set it on fire. If nobody responds, I'm going to take the foam out, open all the hatch covers, tow it several miles out into the Atlantic, and let Poseidon reclaim his rightful property. Would also make a nice artificial reef.
Note the tone of this ad, which swings from realism to desperation to a muted acknowledgement that there might yet be something alive that would appreciate this item, even if that something is barnacle.
I have never invited anyone to set my home project on fire, but I have sometimes experienced profound frustration. The worst part about projects is that you really have no one to blame but yourself. What exactly was I thinking, painting the living room baby blue? Why do I still have rolls of Looney Tunes borders for the boys' room, when my boys are 10 and 12? And outdoors-- don't get me started on outdoors. Just today I was asking myself, how did that vine, the one that has no apparent connection to the ground, grow above the window and into the rain gutter?
Working all week, we are not home enough, so there is always a lot to do around our small farm on the weekends. Sometimes we get overwhelmed. However, each morning on my way to work I pass a cemetery, and I remind myself of one important thing: Those people don't have a to-do list.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)