Truckstop Oysters. How Bad Could They Be?

I was doing my daily “let’s avoid accomplishing anything” by searching for new blogs to read.  This is purely in the name of research and to get me out of the rut of writing blogs and then deleting them, prior to publishing, as they are not funny.  I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.

Then, there is the Christmas stocking issue and the knitted Christmas gift that I could work on 24/7 from now till Christmas and probably still not have it done.    I am on my second yarn and my twentymillionth rip out on this thing.  So, my days go, dishes, feed animals, knit four rows, search the internet for Vegan no oil food and any other excuse I can use.

When I am searching blogs, I am mostly looking for ones that make me laugh and today, I was in stitches over a new blog I found.  Truckstop Oysters. How Bad Could They Be? | Blurt via Truckstop Oysters. How Bad Could They Be? | Blurt.

All I can tell you, is I think it’s a guy girl (she asserted her he just asserted his alpha female status over Angelina Jolie’s dolls, another funny post, and he lives in North Carolina and he is funny!   And, he can tell you just exactly how bad of an idea it is to have truckstops serve oysters. 

If you have ever traveled, then you probably have a state that is NOT your favorite.  My state is Missouri.  I have broken down every single time I cross Missouri, except the last time.  Perhaps I am making my peace with the state.  But, I am pretty sure it just felt like it owed me as one trip, I broke down three times.  Never buy a used motorhome. 

It isn’t just that though.  Missouri is the state that has nice restaurants who bring you a cup of hot water and a packet of cocoa when you order hot chocolate.   What is more upscale than bringing you hot water and packets of cocoa?  I now travel a long way out of my way to avoid Missouri.

Let me know if you hear where Truckstop Oysters is playing.  Sounds like a great band to me.

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Blogs, politics, lists and CAKE!!!

I was killing time this morning, like I have so much extra to kill, well, I really do, I just don’t want to do what I should be doing with it.  Somehow, I think this sentence has way too many commas in it.  I copied and pasted it to MSWord and they are not offering any corrections, so any editor/agents out there, just pretend I meant to do that—Stream of consciousness thing and all.

 

 

 

Anyway, in killing time this morning reading all the neat blogs about Sarah Palin and now I have added an Alaskan blog *Mudflats* to my daily read.  Who could resist this information?   Okay, now that’s another thing you agents/editors need to ignore—my politics.  I was actually going to write about an email I received from a friend, who is so stressed out about the state of politics, I fear for his sanity, but then I remembered that I am not supposed to write about anything controversial.  Ooppps!! Too late for that.

 

 

 

Anyway, again, I only got as far as C’s, in my daily blog troll.  *Cranky Fitness* provided this morning’s blog inspiration with her list.  First, I have to say, who can resist a blog with cupcakes as its banner?  Okay, a nice piece of wedding cake might be better for us cake connoisseurs.  Since her blog is about fitness, I’d say this whole cake thing is off limits; except on your birthday.  Or when you go to a wedding.  Or on the Ides of March. Or—–

 

 

 

This, cakes and lists, is something I have in common with *Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom*.  This is the team who has a whole blog, nearly  (I haven’t read the whole thing yet) made up of lists; and, I know for a fact that one of them would join me in my cake quest or possibly in doing many unmentionable things to Viggo Mortensen.  

 

 

Back to the lists: I find I do get more things done when I make lists. When I was doing Body for Life faithfully, I think it was the fact of having a chart to fill out for exercise and also for what I ate. Those were lists that kept me on track; and away from cake.

 

 

 

Now-a-days though, my lists look something like this.

 

1. Six am  do dishes- no room for dishwasher in this blasted house.

2. Seven am wake boys

3. Feed visiting rabbit and clean the poop out of her food and water dishes.  What is her problem?

4. Water dog, then take her for a walk in the yard and to water the garden.  Talk lovingly to baby watermelons. We will be so drowning in watermelons at some point.  Tomatoes are just starting to get red.  I may go on a tomato and watermelon diet.

5. Call the class ring company and order a replacement for JRockGuitarMan’s class ring.

6. Remind JRock that I will have his hide if it ever disappears from his finger again.

7. Tell EMT Boy he looks good in suit of visiting son, Starky

8. Tell Starky he looks good in cowboy hat, boots, shirts and jeans of EMT boy.  (Hey, they get worse as Halloween gets near.  One year we gave them a box of costumes for Christmas and it was their favorite gift.)

9. Go to mom’s town tomorrow: see vet (for dog pills, not for me), go to license bureau (for mom’s handicapped tag), help her with pacemaker check by phone (which she can do on her own), out to eat (always) grocery store, farm stand for tomatoes and watermelon since mine aren’t ready to pick yet. (never buy a watermelon at Marsh — worse one I ever had). 

 

 

 

I have stretched my limits of punctuation and patience in this blog, so am off to work on my novel to bed.  I shall put my headphones on and listen to Harry Potter yet again.  I have been listening to the CD’s for three years now.  Since memoiries from my last visit in Wyoming roll around in my head too often at night.  The CD’s only put me to sleep because I have them memorized by now. So, new books on tape only work when I am painting or throwing pottery and want to be reading.  Music doesn’t work either.  Both of them just make me stay awake to hear more.  But, my brain calms right down with the soothing voice of Jim Dale.

 

 

 

Sleep well!

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You decide. Am I so NOT invited or am I too sensitive?

Okay, what are blogs for, if not to vent about your relatives, right?????????

Morning is my quiet time. My peaceful, internet morning ritual. Post a poem for mom on her blog, at  Padairvanvleck’s Weblog  , post my post here, check my writing post and decide I have nothing to say. Then, I check my email. BAD MOVE this morning!

 

1.       I was trying to make a joke, to BrainDebris, about mom’s penchant for watching certain tv programs and it didn’t come off very well. Especially, when I sent it to mom and not BrainDebris.  Three emails of apology later and I move on to other email.

 

2.      WHY DID I BOTHER!

We have another wedding coming up next month and I am taking mom to it. This one is only three hours away and near to the area we are from, so lots of relatives. I wrote a relative, who I had been told had one of my brother’s chess sets to give me and was coming to the wedding. I received a reply email this morning.

 

 (XXX’s to protect the innocent)

 

MY EMAIL:

I was glad to hear you were going to  XXX  wedding. Grandma really missed XXXX when you were hoping to stop on your trip last summer.

 

I do have a request. XXX two chess sets of (my brother’s) so that I could pick one to have. It would mean so much to me to have one of his chess sets.  I wonder if you guys could bring them and I will go out to the car with you and pick one and put it into my car.  It would mean a lot.

 

I’ll be bringing Grandma to the wedding.

 

That’s it. Fairly friendly I think, and to the point. I have had some good laughs with this relative. We have visited their house when they had birthday parties etc. Last time I saw the relative, we were warmly welcome and treated well.

 

 HER REPLY:

1^st paragraph informing me in five different ways that her husband has to work. I kind of got that he had to work . THEN:

 

“We are hoping to be able to just pick Grandma up by herself to spend some time at our house, since she will be only 2 blocks over from our new house. We would love to have her spend some time with her great grand babies and us. I would love to grill out for her  and make  a nice dinner for her.

 

“We really are only about 1 minute from XXXX  house” ( the house we are staying at for two days)

 

ME AGAIN:

Okay, I get that I am not invited. But, I replied simply that Grandma would love to spend time with this woman’s children and I would forward her letter to mom.

 

She found it necessary to email me again; just in case my head was extra thick and I did not get the message that I was NOT welcome to accompany mom to her house.

 

SHE WROTE:

Hopefully she can spend a little while with us, we would love it. XXX does have off every Friday and Sunday.  So, not sure how long you will be here, but if you could see if we can pick her up one of the Friday evenings or Sunday anytime – that would be special for us to be able to have her over.

 

 

OKAY FOLKS!  You be the judge. Am I being overly sensitive here or was I good enough to come to their kids birthday party, with a present, but they do not want to cook for me?? I haven’t been around in years, certainly not enough to offend her.

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What would “Designed to Sell” do with a Dead Cow?

Master’s daughter and I were at it again, the dippers of Margarita that is. She reminded me of the old “list serve” my brilliant nephew, in Wisconsin, had set up for the family before Blogs or subscriptions to groups were the rage. With one click, you could send your email out to everyone and, as long as everyone was being nice and friendly, it was a blast. Of course, that was also a time when only your family knew how weird your family was and not everyone in the universe, who can now read it when you spill your guts on your Blog.

 

My “Mother of eleven” daughter, was looking for a house about seven children ago, when she happened upon a piece of rural property with bonus lawn decorations. Homes in Wyoming come with lots of perks; sagebrush, rattlesnakes, sagebrush, windmills to bring up water, sagebrush, jackrabbits, and more sagebrush. This had an added bonus.

 

The bonus: Loose cattle rubbing against the house, looking in windows, eating the flowers, or just relaxing in a decorative manner and pooping on the lawn. The by-product of which is heaps of flies. It would be enough to know my mother’s reaction to poop in the yard, you should have heard her when said daughter had loose chickens, then you would understand that this was really enough to get a good conversation going.

 

However, as a poop de grâce, there was a dead cow in the front yard. Not surprisingly, not if you know my family at any rate, this became the topic of a contest on our family list serve.

 

 Answers to the problem ranged from:

1. Wait 20 years and sell the cow skull to mom. (Okay, so I was a re-enactor then. So, shoot me. My daughters often fought over who would HAVE to take Mom’s stuff if I died)

 2. Give it to the realtor as a thank you gift.

3. Start a new farming trend: dead cows, low feed bills, fewer ranch hands.

4. Advertise it as low maintenance pets.

5. Tie it to a stick and use it for a scare-cow.

6. Tie to the front of your truck and use it as a cattle guard.

7. Sell it to Hollywood as a prop.

8. Build a catapult and make it your neighbor’s problem.

9. Put its picture on cartons of spoiled milk.

10. Point all 4 feet upward and put a flower box on its belly.

11. Get a big box and ups it to the previous owners.

12. Get a large magnet and place it on the fridge.

13. Feet up, sheet of glass, cowfee table table.

14. Use it to start your very own road kill restaurant.

15. Use it as a pull toy for your growing family.

16. Save it for Halloween and put on someone’s roof

17. Get a large tank of piranha, as you have plenty of feed now.

18. Inflate it with helium and enter it in the unusual kites contest

19. Use it as a very smelly piñata.

 

 

 Daughter and I were wondering, however, just what would “Designed to Sell” do with a dead cow. How about it? Any ideas how they would give it curb appeal? You can’t say have it hauled away. It has to be decorative.

 

 

 

 

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