Sunday, January 29, 2006


One day shortly after moving in our home Doug and I decided to trim two huge trees lining our curb. The trees hadn't been trimmed in ages and some of the branches hung low enough to touch the tops of passing cars. I love the 40 ft. + trees but they were out of hand. Here in Podunk eyes are always on you, they've gotta have something to talk about at the D.Q.
Anyway, finishing enough trimming for the first load to be hauled away I went inside for some water. Looking out I noticed Doug talking to our next door neighbor. I thought it was odd because Sid is a preacher and Doug's not religious in the least and pretty much detests Sid. After their little chat I stepped out to inquire about Sid's visit. Doug proceeds to tell me how Sid had TOLD, not asked told Doug not to cut too much off of 'his carport'. Doug's response was huh? Apparently Patty the previous owner kept the branches long to shade his truck that he parked in front of her house, since she only had one car. Doug tried to laugh it off thinking Sid must see that we have two cars and need that spot ourselves. But not me, I lost it!!
The man has a double carport, and a driveway, park in your fucking yard!!
Sid was still lingering in on his porch as I stomped back to the house yelling ' their not Patty's trees anymore and I'll cut the fucking things down if I want'. Sid continued to park in front of our house until on evening upon returning from work Doug slid in the gravel and bumped into Sid truck. Sid just happened to be out front talking to a friend. Doug got out slamming the door and muttering loudly "that's what you get you snake charming son of a bitch, park at your own house". Needless to say that finally broke him from parking there. I wonder if Sid the snake charmer prays for our salvation or for a plague to strike us down.

Thursday, January 26, 2006


A couple of weeks ago Doug and I went out for lunch on a Sunday, while waiting for a table we witnessed a tantrum that made me think of my childhood. A 'yuppie' couple, two small kids, and the grandparents, were also waiting for a table. When the youngest child took his sister's sucker, the screaming began. The mom calmly knelt down and said 'Paxston please give Sierra back her sucker' ,and darling little Paxston throw himself on the floor. Mom still calm picked him up and said( and I'am not shitting You ) Paxston be a blessing and give it back. After clocking his sister, his mom, and the door with the sucker, mom finally took his hand and guided he to the suckers destination. If that had been me, and my brother our mom would have just given us a look, or a snap of her finger and we knew she meant business! There was no time outs, long talks, or trying to rationalize with a 3 yr. old. It didn't matter where we were, or who was around, if we acted up mom would give you a swat. My mom was then and still is very loving to all of us, but she wasn't going to tolerate bad behavior. And not once did I ever hear her say just wait until your father gets home, hell no mom could handle it herself. My brothers and I were convinced for years that mom was having a fling with Sherwin-Williams man, because she had an endless supply of paint stirrers but we never painted anything. Or she was always in reach of a fly swatter, and if all else failed she had her trusty house shoe. I remember them well, they came in two colors silver or gold, they had a hard plastic sole, and turned up a the toe looking like genie slippers. I don't recall a spanking I didn't deserve, I just never understood the comment she always made after the spanking. I'd still be snievling when she'd say 'dry it up or I'll give you something to cry about.' But you just did! Maybe little Paxston would have benefitted from a little attention getter, instead of a 10 minute ordeal we all had to suffer through. And being the loud mouthed smart ass that I am I couldn't resist saying as we were called to our table, my mother wouldn't have let us get away with that. I'm grown with my own family but if my mother snaps her fingers I know I had better straighten up or else! Just ask my brother, mom gave him his last swat after he had married and had two kids! Moma don't play.

Monday, January 23, 2006

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry. I know that I have only just started this blog but I will have to take a little while off. A family emergency has come up that will require all my attention. Hopefully better days will come again soon and I can resume writing. Thanks for being patient.

Thursday, January 19, 2006


I am in the middle of home improvement hell! The latest project is the living room. I've worried alittle about my color choices for the walls, then while at the hardware store pouring over countless paint cards it struck me. It doesn't matter what color I get Doug ( as most men I know ) don't have any decorating taste. So manly or feminine won't come into play. I remember what Doug's place looked like before we met, and all my single guy friends apt. looked. Apparently all men decorate the same, either by choice, or it's ingrained into their DNA. All single men have nothing much on their walls except neon beer signs, cheerleader calandars, and streaks of some unidentified liquid that has run down the wall. Why put holes in perfectly good wall, right? Men also don't believe in curtains. Windows are covered by one of three things - foil, flags, or sheets (it's o.k. they never use sheets on a bed anyway. ) The furniture is scary, usually something found on a curb, or stolen from someones backyard patio set. It never matches and most likely held together with duct tape. But hey what doesn't go with a milk crate entertainment center, pizza box end tables, and a huge wooden spool for a coffee table!
After we married I had a yard sale and tried to sell my husband's couch. At the beginning of the day I had an asking price of 5. 00, mid-day it sported a sign saying "free" , at days end the sign read "will give gas money to haul it away". I guess the sofa scared others as much as me. It had stains I didn't want to know about, I could only imagine what may be nesting inside it, and there was noway that thing was coming back inside. Doug whined and protested pointing out its comfort and how long he'd had it but, I won and Doug hauled it off for me.
So with that flashback over, I picked out the wall color quickly. One wall deep red the others beige. Doug bitched about the one different wall, and how I didn't include him in the decision. I had to remind him that #1 he's color blind ( really), #2 how his place looked before , and #3 shut up! it could have been fucking pink with little bunnies. It's cute that Doug thinks that he still has some say around here. I like my men with a little fight lift in them. Well I am off to the hardware store, time for a new project.

Sunday, January 15, 2006


Every redneck story I've ever heard always starts out the same, "Ya'll ain't gonna believe this shit" well here goes. One day last week I looked out my window to see an Emu trotting down my street followed by two city trucks, I guess they were trying to round him up, or maybe he was leading them somewhere the city workers here are a cluster fuck looking for a place to happen. But anyway, being a city girl this site was surprising to me I mean how often do you go out for the morning paper and see a huge bird strolling down the street! Later that day I made inquireries at the town hub, the grocery store, conveniently located across the street from the funeral home. To my surprize the runaway Emu didn't even raise an eyebrow here, livestock making a break for freedom is a common occurance in Podunk. The animal was eventually returned to it's owner and the day went on without a hitch, but I bet if the damn Emu would have died during his daring escape it would have made front page of our six page weekly newspaper.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Background Info

I'm new at this so bear with o.k.? You may have noticed I put my location as Podunk, Tx., well it's pretty damn close. I grew up a city kid and now find myself in the sticks in a town where the big news of the day is who's in the funeral home. For god's sake we don't even have a traffic light! This town is very clanish as well all outsiders unwelcome, outsiders meaning anyone not born and raised here. So you can imagine their disgust with me a definant outsider, tattoos proudly displayed, Disturbed or Godsmack blaring from the car stereo ( I espesically love to do that on Sunday's when church is letting out. ) Yes, you can say I don't fit in here but it's home now. Well I've gotta go climb the pole and sign off for now, I have rednecks to annoy!
My Photo
Location: Podunk, Texas

I am a wild Irish rose stuck in a cow pasture. Completely out of my element but trying to fit in as best I can.


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