Sooo..

We started the New Year with Michael walking in to find me wearing a headlamp and wielding a power drill.
He looked at me for a moment, and said, "I don't even want to know.".
Yep, new year, same me.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Why I won't end up a lampshade because of Craigslist

We have a bunch of..well..crap..that has been in storage forever.
Or floating room to room.
Closet to closet.
Put away neatly, but ...good Lord.
It's like freaking Hoarders-Organized Edition in here.

Craigslist to the rescue.

I know a lot of women are concerned about inviting total strangers to their rural (ie, backwoods) homes.
I'm not stupid- "sure! I can be here at midnight, and make sure I'm home alone!"
I have a healthy dose of concern. I love reading forensics, and psychology, so I know there's a potential nut job around every corner.

But really.

After visiting my house?

Four dogs. It sounds like Hell Hounds are after you when you pull up.
Irie Akita has a bark as big as her booty.  She's 96 lbs of StrangerDanger.

Well.
I was trying to find serious photos of Girlfriend, but kept stumbling across these.
Just imagine the horror and humiliation of being savaged by a dog wearing bows and bunny ears....?


*cough*


I also enjoy hanging our targets from the gun range inside the front door, on a pretty little shabby chic magnetic board (ya know, where I should be leaving sweet notes for hubby).

There's a sign under this stating the gun used and distance. Whoever does best gets bragging rights.
This was mine. Smith and Wesson M&P .40 at 125 yards. Not horrible.

 So, when I open the front door to the Craigslist Lunatic...
S/He is greeted by Hell Hounds.

 And gun range targets.

 side note- the assessors office just stopped by for their every 3 yr visit.  
That very nice man seemed fairly traumatized.
Whoops.

Anyway, along with my distrusting nature and gun targets and crazed WV Dogs.....

There's us.

What's Christmas without camo ...and homemade wine. Which explains SO much about this pic.

Who in HELL would come back to kidnap me and turn me into a human skin lampshade?!
We scare the Craigslist Crazies.

We need Keepers.

Last week, Michael and I were doing a bird drive.
We parked in several spots and watched, got out and wandered around a bit.
 The weather was horrid...freezing, sleety, windy. We dressed for this (and I have a point).

I rarely see other birders here, so imagine my excitement when a car pulled in behind us and I spot someone with binoculars! WOO!
Even more exciting, the lady comes up to the car and starts talking Bird.

She glances in the car and looks startled.
Ok, I know with his dark eyelashes and bright blue eyes, Michael can look Intense, but seriously...he's a friendly guy.
She takes a step back...says her goodbyes..
Flees.


It's only on the drive home I realize Michael is still wearing this:

And black gloves.
So maybe he DOES look like a serial killer.
Whoopsie.

Glorious cold front! Oh, screw it.

I had plans today.
I intended to toss on a rain coat and slosh through the woods in the wondrous 65 degree temps.
Wind and rain and COOL AIR.
I was making my bastard chicken pot pies, with cornbread on top.
(no one wants to eat that shit when it's 98 degrees)
I intended to snuggle down with Michael after dinner and watch tv
(because for the past 3 months if he tries to cuddle I growl "get OFF me, you heat producing freak)


Michael had to get up at 4:30 am.
So, I hop into bed by 10 like a good little wifey..that way I can get up with him and get him out the door on time.
The man has slept through 80 mph winds and the strongest thunderstorm we've ever experienced.  He's slept through me running a chainsaw 30 feet from THREE open bedroom windows.

It's not too different from my normal schedule.  I channel the angry spirit of an 1800s farm wife.  I believe sleeping past 7 am is wasting half the day.  I blame my grandmother.

I start to doze about 11pm.
11:30- honey, do you know where my socks are? They are not in the drawer.
Look in the @#$% laundry basket of CLEAN SOCKS you haven't put away.
Oh..crap. I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't see the basket.  In front of the dresser.  I'm really sorry.

12:15
*click. click click. click. click click click*
Michael, what the hell are you doing?!
I think my reading light is dying.
So change the @#$% battery.
I should probably go to sleep.  I'll change it tomorrow.

1:20
Michael's arm is flung across my face.
I pinch him. He doesn't move.
I jab him in the ribs and he grunts, tightens his arm around my head and mumbles "love you".
Lies.

1:35
He's flat on his back, snoring.
He never snores, so this is extra salt in my wounds/fuel to my rage.
I believe he's intentionally snoring.

2:00
Dogs bark madly at something/nothing.
I fling myself out of bed, ready to take on invaders.
Michael snuggles into the pillows and makes a noise of contentment.

2:45
Michael's deep, even breathing is just pissing me off.

I gather pillow, blanket and dogs and head to the couch.

3:45
the wind screams up the hill and rain lashes the house. Incredible lightning pulses against my dry, red eyes.
One of the Altheas outside the living room decides to scrape the siding over and over.
And over.

4:00
Weatherbug alerts me to a severe storm
No shit, Weatherbug.

4:10
I give up and make coffee.



Now I'm too damned tired to slosh.
But by God, I'm making pot pie.

Chaos, part 239572

Another post that is ALL over the damned place...

This summer was supposed to be our lazy summer.
HA!

Lots of laying poolside and reading.
HA!

Instead, we had days of "Whoa. The bathroom floor feels weird next to the shower.."
and "Sam...Honey, WTF happened to the bathroom floor? Where IS it?"

Michael came home to a bathroom missing a floor..down to the joists.
I need to mention we don't have central air, and it was roughly 198 degrees with 613% humidity the day I tackled the bathroom floor.
Made me cranky.
More cranky.

Then we had a day of replacing the kitchen ceiling...another 198% day with 613% humidity.
Cranky doesn't begin to cover it.

Home repair certainly tests the strength of your relationship.  If we ended the work day and DIDN'T want to take a 12 pound sledge to each other...it was a good day.

Things have been absolutely chaotic this summer.
Beyond my norm! What the hell!?

We decided we need to focus on a hobby together..we hike/camp/etc together, but we needed a quickie hobby..something we could hop in the car and spend an hour doing.

I used to LOVE shooting. The gun range (or the gun range at my uncle J's house) was Good Times.
Good SAFE times..we're crazy, but good crazy..not dangerous crazy.
Hell, we're not even worrisome crazy.

So. Research and trips to Cabela's and the local gun shop...and we're back on the range.
MAN, did I miss it!

*Michael wins the Awesome Husband Award for being completely supportive and encouraging, taking advice from A GIRL, and being proud of my skill instead of crappy that I'm currently a better shot than him.

We have a state game lands range about 5 minutes away...
We can hop in the car and spend some quality time doing something we love.  Plus, we're meeting some great folks at the range.

We pull off the road and watch the wildlife around the creek...chat...watch sunrise or sunset...

hanging out by the gun range..she knows she's safe there! smartass deer.

Babble

Important stuff:

Another reason hockey rocks.

While I most certainly appreciate all the breast cancer funding and raising awareness (having boobs and all)...
I also have a pancreas..lymph nodes..bone marrow..blood..
There's a prostate in the house.
The NHL spreads the love ($ and awareness) to more than one type of cancer.
It's needed.
We all have a million parts that could be affected by cancer.
Funding/research/awareness/patient resources needs to cover all those parts.
Definitely not saying breast cancer is more/less important, just that all cancers are equally important.

Crazy stuff:
I nearly died drinking coffee this AM while looking at Halloween decorations..which led me to costumes.
Sexy?
Sexy??
AHAHAHAHA
and
BWAHAHAHA

Seriously, I inhaled scalding hot coffee and nearly boiled my lungs.
I'm still coughing 3 hours later.

Nothing says sexy like a poo flinging primate.
I think one of our dog beds is made out of the same thing as Sexy Rudolph's dress.
I just sent Michael photos of those two costumes and received this in reply:
"that is ridiculous. not sexy."
No wonder we're married.

I don't get sexy Halloween.
I dig scary Halloween.
Unless flesh eating zombies are sexy...
and then I think you have a whole 'nother set of problems.




I won't leave you with THAT particular image in your head..
you're welcome:

Who needs SAR dogs?

All day yesterday I kept smelling this weird chemical/funky/citrus smell. I tore the kitchen and living room apart, scrubbing everywhere, trying to find the source.
Couldn't find anything!  I told Michael that it reminded me of a rotten orange.  None of the oranges on the butchers block were funky..nothing in the fridge..WTH?
Early this morning I opened the kitchen window.  There it was again.
So..there I am..outside in my jammies..with a flashlight..air scenting like a coonhound.


Michael pops his head out the window and stares at me.
Michael: What..are you doing? Are you sniffing?
Me: Yes, I am.  I'm pretty sure that smell is coming from out here somewhere.
Michael: Honey, I'm sure you're right, but..it's dark.  And you're not a search and rescue dog.
Me, squatting in the ferns outside the window: Wait..*sniff*..I think *sniffsniffsniff*
Michael: Oh sweet Jesus.....  
Me: AH HA! I found it! It was an orange! It must have rolled off the butchers block and out the window.
Michael: Great, can you come in here and sniff out my keys? For a cookie?  You wanna cookie, good girl?!

He should be glad I have my shots.  I'm sure the bites will heal quickly.
---
Fall is creeping in.
The maples are getting touches of color, the insect noises have changed, the dogs are changing coat (which means I vacuum twice a day)..

The wildflowers are golds and purples, instead of pinks and blues

The Marsh Mallow has gone to seed..from palest pink blooms to this.

The BEST hiking weather is coming up...chilly and dry.  Spring hiking is great, but dear GOD the mud.
This morning was foggy and gorgeous.  Didn't take the camera (!) but had a great hike.

It's official..

I need therapy.
Or a hobby.
Or winter to get here so Pig hibernates.


Yesterday morning I wandered outside with a camera, a scale and the crow/Pig scraps.
I stood on the giant rock in the yard, well out of Pig's reach, and placed the scale where I thought she would stand.
Pig spotted the bowl and stepped right onto the scale.
(The crows also spotted the bowl and were screaming obscenities from the treetops.)

That went a little easier than I expected!

11 pounds, 2 ounces..roughly.
Average groundhog weight is between 7 and 11 pounds, so sayeth The Google.

She started reaching for my toes...

So I tossed her a leftover tortilla.

My kinda gal...snarfing down carbs while standing on a scale.

"WHAT!?  11 pounds?!"

"I hate dieting."

I got.
A groundhog.
On a scale.
Shouldn't there be some kind of award or prize for this?


This led to me violently cleaning my scale (no offense, Pig, but you are a Wild Thing).
Michael wandered in and asked what I was doing.
"Cleaning the scale..Pig was on it."

He eyeballed me and left the room, muttering something about "crazy"....
If Pig doesn't hibernate soon, God knows what will be next.

Entirely deserving of their own post...

The carp.
We camped at Pymatuning State Park in Ohio, but this place is just a few miles away.
Do not ask me how two reasonably intelligent adults had so much fun watching carp fight over bread.
A dollar loaf of stale bread equals good times.

Granted, it was pretty creepy when we realized the carp were following us along the walkway...staring...mouths gaping...
Zombies!
Forget braaaaains...
breaaaaad!

Run away, run away!

And that was before we got assaulted by seagulls!

We lived!

Good stuff:
Great campsite 30 ft from the backwaters of the lake:

A great blue heron hung out with us for several days..and a green heron popped in yesterday morning:

Our dogs were quiet and well-behaved:

Last night, all hell broke lose!
We never camp on weekends.  Now I remember why.
FOUR loose dogs wandering around.  Apparently, leash laws only apply to..us?
  I think ALL kids should get to go camping..don't get me wrong..but with that comes teaching respect for other campers.
Stop the damned screaming.  Stop running into other campsites.
I would have gotten my head handed to me for screaming for no good reason.
Had I run into someone's campsite (screaming), I would have gotten strapped to the roof rack.

Or fed to the fish!

Freaky!

Weird encounter with my neighbor this morning.  Part of my property is bordered by a neighbor I've only seen.  We've never spoken before.
I took Irie out with me to cut down some honeysuckle (it's trying to eat Earth) and I see our neighbor walking along his property line.  Odd, as we've lived here 10 years and we have NEVER stumbled across each other.
I've been witness to his 3 am firing of guns (and the cops swarming his yard) and his drunken bonfires (and the fire department swarming his yard), but we've never spoken.
But hey, he's on his property..and I'm out at the break of dawn..so no big deal, right?

Then he says..like a big freaking WEIRDO.."Aren't you worried about being all alone in the woods, so far from your house?"
Of course, this spooks me a little.
Maybe he's socially awkward..maybe I startled him so he's scrambling..but..WTF?! Who says that!?


Being the gentle woman I am, I reply "100 pounds of dog and a machete say I don't have to worry."
By the grace of God, Irie has excellent timing..she drops her head and Stares. Him. Down.
If you've never been on the receiving end of a Big Dog lowering their head at you and giving you The Stare, I'm very glad for you.  Terrifying.
Weirdo Neighbor doesn't say another word and hauls ass.

I'm sure right now he's telling his wife about the crazy bitch..make that bitches.. he met in the woods.
But..but..who says that?!  Who says that to a woman with a big dog and a machete?!

We've met many a stranger hiking in the woods, and no one has ever said anything weirder than "Hey, nice day" or "Pretty dogs".

If Weird Neighbor pulls something like that again..
I'm shoving carbs down his pants and releasing The Pig.


She may appear dainty and ladylike...

"Fruit is good for a girl's figure."

But she's been carb loading and running sprints on the hill...

"OMG.  Need oxygen.  And a Power Chair.  Wheeze"

 She's been practicing her Warrior Cry....

"CAAAAAAAAAAAAARBS!"

Now she's set to defend the property against Home Invasion by freakass neighbors.

"You supply me with baked goods and I'll go all When Animals Attack on whoever you want.
Even your husband.
He keeps singing 'Baby's Got Back' when he sees me."

Uh...girlfriend..you've ago got Front.
And Sides.

"Shut up or I sit on you."

Copypig infringement?

I was talking with a friend about Pig, and he mentioned I should copyright my photos and text.
*stare*  WHY!?
"So no one steals and uses your Pig photos and commentary!"
*blank face*
"Seriously!  She's hilarious, and the captions are great"
*raised eyebrow*
"What if you choose to do something with the photos?"
*eyeroll*

'Wait.  We could be makin' bank on my photos!?"

No, Heidi Klum...don't quit your day job.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I don't see the point in copyrighting anything I've posted.  It's a groundhog..not some rare creature.
Who the hell is stealing groundhog photos?
Are there bands of marauding Whistle Pig pic thieves on the internet?
She's a groundhog..one of millions...
Even if she does have a penchant for bad hats:

"Wait..you're laughing 'cause I have something in my TEETH, aren't you?"

Things went slightly awry when I was throwing the deer crow Pig food.
She had absolutely no issue with wearing..and later eating..her lettuce hat.

But her great love..always and forevers.. carbs.

"Caaaaarbs!"

"Look look! No hands!"

"Hey..this is what you look like with brownies..AHAHA.
Oh come on, don't get MAD"

You know, Pig...groundhog is considered good eatin' in WV.

Blue skies..

Thigh highs (and melon)

..and I can't rhyme anything else.
Dramatic sighs.
HA! I had one more in me!

This Monday is CRAZY.
Michael had to be out the door at 4 am, and it went downhill from there!
Just a crazy, backwards, WTH kind of day...nothing serious, though.

Pig is trying to move in.

I heard this god awful banging from inside the utility closet where the hot water tank is...
Crack open the door (thinking there's a monster in there) and Pig is staring at me. I have NO IDEA how in hell she got in!?!?
I need Michael's help to keep Pig away from me while I stuff myself in the crawl space under the house and see how in hell she got in.  I can't see any access point from inside the closet..just the tiny opening where the water lines run.
Don't believe me?
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Yeah, pardon the 1970s linoleum in the closet..and dust...and oh...the GROUNDFREAKINGHOG.