He really was a good guy – you just didn’t want to piss him off. I was an expert at pissing him off, whether I meant to or not. If there was a way to screw things up, and piss my dad off, I would manage it.
Before Kyla was born, her dad and I would go down to Teeny-Tiny Town for Christmas every year. He had two kids from his first marriage, so that made arrangements difficult. Worse, I worked in retail – in a mall – and I had two days to celebrate in: Christmas Day and Boxing Day. And those poor kids had a lot of places to be.
Our Christmas routine tended to look like this:
I broke my “fat” mirror. I call it my “fat” mirror because the mirror was warped, but it was warped in all the right places. This was the mirror that added weight to me. It added curves to my straight-and-narrow frame. It made me look fatter, in other words, and that was good for my own sense of body image.
Sunday Dinner-and-a-Movie at Ruby’s last night was disrupted, interrupted and kerfluffled – but in the most fun possible way…
It was my turn to cook. I made a rather passable broccoli and cheese stuffed meatloaf, served up with home-grown potatoes (that I growed my own self!) and a can of corn – I don’t grow corn, canned or otherwise.
I’m posting this in response to the WordPress Daily Blog Prompt – “Autumn Leaves”. Check out that link! There are SO many great photographers and writers out there.
This photo was taken nearly two years ago. It was a perfect day – took the dog out for a run and she, as always, was perfectly patient while I lay in the dirt and took shot after shot after shot of toadstools, blades of grass and dead leaves.
I haven’t had the time to go picture-stalking so far this fall. Looking at this photo makes me think it’s time to get my priorities straight.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “If Everyone Was Listening” – Supertramp
Actually, the garden was a major part of the “Independently Self-Sufficient” plan – I just knew damned well that I could only just begin the project this year. I could only plant the stuff, and hope that in a year or two, I had learned enough and grown the garden large enough that we wouldn’t need to purchase items like tomatoes, cucumbers, strawberries and blueberries, melons, peas… you know – the kind of stuff that people around here manage to grow in sufficient amounts in their backyards.
My main concern was that gardeners around here have a big one-up on me.
This is what I get for complaining about losing against Ruby in cribbage. I don’t know where her luck (er… talent?) comes from, but after winning my second game in about 8 1/2 years (!!!) against her a couple of weeks ago, I was very disgruntled tonight to see that she’s back on her winning streak.
Or I’m back on my losing streak.
Today is Wednesday. Anybody that knows me even a little bit, knows how fervently I believe that Wednesday is a crap day. It just is. I’ve been saying that right here since the inception of this blog. PROOF.
There is no “hump” in Wednesday; there is a great big concrete mountain slammed down in the front of your car that negotiating around puts your life in peril in every Wednesday.