“I don’t know why Lucy and Ethel are complaining,” said Bandit.
“At least they have a show.”
I tried explaining to them that just because Laverne & Shirley are here doesn’t mean they’ve lost their prime time slot. In fact, I told them, there is plenty of room on the Front Porch Indiana network to accommodate them, The Golden Girls, The Dukes AND Laverne & Shirley. But being the divas that they are, Lucy is sulking and Ethel keeps giving me the you-disgust-me stare.
Luckily for them they realized going on strike was of no use. The only thing they could give up doing is eating, and I assure you neither of them are willing to go that far.
“Good morning, ladies. Are you ready to go to work?” I asked as I opened the door to the sheep shack this morning.
“You want us to eat all of THAT? Are you crazy? We’re just two little lambs!”
“Okay then, how about we start small with just this little section right outside the door until you get used to your new jobs?”
“Shirl, I’m not so sure this was such a good idea.”
our two newest farm hands,
They tired of their jobs at Shotz Brewery and decided to go into the landscaping business. It’s late, hot, and they’re settling in for the night with their milk and Pepsi. We’ll talk more in the morning.
My Dear Readers,
Anytime I’ve asked for anything on this little old blog you’ve all blown me away with your generosity. You give so willingly of your time and talents. So that’s why I turn to you first today. You see today, we have learned, that a very special woman needs your time and talents.
If you’ve been hanging out here for awhile you know I don’t normally go into a lot of detail about the humans in the family, so I’ll have to fill you in on a little background. The Engineer is from Newfoundland. His parents still live there, as well as his sister, Cathy.
Cathy is mentally delayed, is 41 years old and, we now know, has cancer. This isn’t her first battle with the disease. She battled a giant cell tumor in her back and ribs in 1989 and was in a back brace for six months while endured three months of radiation treatment. She beat it. This time around her ovaries, liver and lungs are affected. She starts chemo tomorrow and I have no doubt she can beat this, too. She is one tough cookie.
Cathy dreamed for years of living independently, to have a place of her own. Two years ago she finally achieved that goal. She attends school and constantly strives to improve her reading skills. Cathy volunteers and is the very first person to lend a hand to anyone who needs it. She loves people and is quite the social butterfly. In fact, that’s where you come in. I just know Cathy would love nothing more than to receive cards, letters or a scribbled note on the back of a napkin for that matter, from all over the country. I can just imagine the excitement in her eyes. So if I could ask this one very important favor of you I would be forever in your debt. If you can send something, please email me via the “contact me” link over there on the left column of the blog (it’s under the “about me” heading) with “Cathy” in the subject line. I’ll send back an address where your item can be sent.
Of course, if you are the praying sort, we would appreciate a mention. And if you happen to know where we might be able to find the most beautiful headscarves, please let us know. She deserves the best.
Day, after day, after day the radar has looked like this.
The ground reached its saturation point long ago.
The storms have been particularly violent.
We’ve been lucky compared to others.
So I’m not going to rant. I’m just going to politely say, “We’re full, thanks, feel free to share some of this with the rest of the country.” We can’t take any more rain, because I’m getting my vehicle fixed and the rental agreement specifically said “no pets”. I noticed it said nothing about livestock, however. If we have to move to higher ground, the Golden Girls will have to ride in this with me while the cat and dogs ride in the truck.
Don’t think I wouldn’t do it…
One of the cool things about this old farmstead is the lilac bushes. They were brought here on a covered wagon many, many moons ago. So it is with great pain and anguish that I tell this tale.
You see, after 100 years, the bushes have grown to an insane size and they sit directly next to the road.
That alone wouldn’t necessarily be so bad except that they block the view as you’re trying to exit our driveway.
The speed limit in front of our house is only 35 miles per hour, but nobody seems to know that.
They come whizzing along and because of the wooded areas that surround us they don’t even realize our driveway is coming up. We finally managed to get the highway department to put up a sign. But not only do folks around here not know their numbers, they apparently can’t read either.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve nearly been creamed by a reckless motorist coming around those shrubs. Up until now I have refused to remove the shrubs just on principle. I don’t feel I should have to destroy a 100 year old living thing just because modern society has no regard for anything outside of their personal space. But that was before I signed my baby up for drivers ed class.
He’ll be getting his drivers license this summer. We went out and found the closest thing to a Sherman tank we could find for him to drive, but you still have to exit the driveway with the drivers side facing the oncoming traffic.
So with a heavy heart, we started removing some of the shrubs this weekend.
We didn’t realize what we were getting ourselves into. It turned out to be a MUCH bigger project than we anticipated.
But two days later, my baby is safer.
And I’m sure Mrs. Kurtz, the woman who lovingly brought the lilac starts all the way from Kansas on a covered wagon would understand, she had babies too.
“You know, we could just hang out and get to know each other better. Maybe share a few stories, play some board games.”
“Hey, what are you doing, Bo?’
“Bo, quit it!”
“I guess I’ll go hide out with the chickens.”
Mental note: Acquire more goat appropriate attire.
So what have you all been doing?
“Argh, I be whippin’ ol’ lily-livered Blackbeard wit two wings behind me back. ”
“The scoundrel ran off wit one of me wenches.”
“Where he be, matey?”
“I be gettin’ tired of spinnin’ round wit me good eye lookin’ for the scurvy dog.”
Jasmine has since been captured and returned to Jack but her lover continues to whisper sweet nothings from the other side of the fence. Sadly, Jack is only blind not deaf.