Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Bad Jokes

In a further attempt to prove my geekiness, I am confessing my love of bad jokes. The more groans produced, the better. Here are some of my favorites:

What did the fish say when he hit the wall?

Why did the elephant wear his red tennis shoes rather than his blue tennis shoes while going to the strawberry patch?
So he wouldn't be seen
Have you ever seen an elephant in a strawberry patch? Sure does work, doesn't it.

What did Delaware (Della wear)?
the same as Mississippi (Missus Ippi) (there's another one about Idaho, but we won't go there, LOL)

Here's the red house, there's the blue house. Where's the white house?
In Washington, DC.

What did the mayo say when the refrigerator door was opened?
Close the door, I'm dressing!

I have more, but I think I exceeded my daily groan quotient. Share 'em if you've got 'em!


Tuesday, May 30, 2006

This'n Thats

Dropoff this morning:

S. could hardly wait to go check out her room and re-acquaint herself with it. L. actually waved bye-bye and blew kisses to me. Awwwwww... I love when I get that reaffirmation that we have placed our kids in a great childcare center.

Gone to the dogs:

Since fat looks better tan and I have a bad family history of skin cancer, I started using the Jergens' fake tan lotion. When I walked out to the little kiddie pool in the backyard Sunday, I had to practically beat our two dogs off with a stick. Little dog was licking and slobbering over my feet, ankles and lower calves, while big dog slobbered upper calves to mid-thigh. Just so you know, that Jergens stuff is the food of the gods to dogs. I hate to think what they would have done if they got hold of the bottle...

Can't watch the news:

My Dad is traveling from Afghanistan home for a short furlough. I can handle the anxiety of him being so far away in a war-torn country with almost no panic attacks. However, I sit on the edge of a massive panic attack the entire time he travels. In the meantime, I cannot bear to watch the news until I get the phone call from my mom that he has arrived safely. I am incredibly thankful for all our Vets (past, present and future) and their families. We owe so very much to you all!

L. is just so cute:

L. got hold of the phone this weekend, punched a bunch of numbers and held the handset to her ears. My apologies to whoever has phone number 444-433-3333. You know these 15 month olds and their phone fixations.

S. and I match:

Sunday, Mr. W. took L. with him to the hardware store, while S. and I hung out at home. We made a Father's Day card for Mr. W. Then we played 'Nail Salon' where I cut S.' fingernails, and then painted them and her toenails pink. My fingernails were trimmed and painted as well. S. told everybody on Monday how she and I had sparklies on our nails.


Sunday, May 28, 2006

Barbie Has Underpants!

Among the many, many, many, whole lotta, many, many gifts S. received for her birthday (did I mention she received a lot of gifts?) was Veterinarian Barbie.

I find this amusing on a number of levels. For starters, this is the child who has NEVER played with a doll so far as I know. In fact, one day she brought her Angelina Ballerina stuffed toy mouse up to me and asked, ‘So, Momma, how do you play with this?’ The Barbie gift-giver is aware of S’s tomboyish tendencies, and offered to let us exchange Barbie for another gift. I thanked her and said, that I didn’t mind encouraging S. to at least explore some of the feminine side of toydom, and besides, S. loved the little puppy and kitty that came with Barbie. How could I deny my little boy, uh, girl, that?

The end result is that we now own a newer-style Barbie. At first glance, I thought Barbie’s head looked just a little too big compared to my memories of my own long-lost childhood Barbie dolls (my mother hates Barbie, and I’ve never exactly been fond of her, but even I owned a couple of Barbie dolls in my time). After studying said veterinarian Barbie (which could only be done after removing 342 twist-ties and getting some sewing scissors to hack her hair out of the packaging, why do they SEW toys to their packaging anyway?) for a bit, it dawned on me that Barbie’s head was unchanged. Her bust line and hips had shrunk since I last played with her. In addition to the changes in her proportions, I also noticed that the base of Barbie’s molded plastic torso was altered so that Barbie has perma-panties.

That’s right, folks, Barbie now has permanent bikini-style underpants to go with her more boyish figure. It is hysterical that in a day and age when kids regularly run around in clothing that shows ample cleavage and butt-cra… er, floss, Barbie can no longer go commando.

We may have graphic and near-pornographic video games for our kids to play, but Barbie is now more modestly attired and proportioned that she was when she first hit the toy scene back in 1959 (yes, I looked that up, I’m an analyst for crying out loud). After the Bratz phenomena, I’m beginning to develop an appreciation for Barbie’s new and improved image. Instead of a mere party-girl, Barbie is a teacher, a doctor, a vet, and who knows what all. As a career girl, I can get behind that, even if I don’t have perma-panties.


Saturday, May 27, 2006


Yes! I finally uploaded a card! Woohoo!

This card is for my grandma for Mother's Day. She loves the color purple and thanks to her contributions to my childhood wardrobe, I wore purple for school pictures 6 different times.


Note: Oh, yeah, copyright stuff: images copyright Stampin' Up

The Hardliner

So S. is in the middle of a defiant streak, and I am sick to death of yelling at her. Mr. W. is sick to death of yelling at her. She's sick to death of being yelled at. L.'s sick to death of listening to all the yelling.

The yelling ensues after S. has ignored one or both of us when instructed to do such things as:
  • Stop kicking mommy's seat
  • Don't push L.
  • Sit up at the dinner table and leave your feet alone
  • Sit down!
  • Use your indoor voice
  • No screaming!

Mr. W. was at his wits end this evening and went into full-fledged lecture mode while S. sat on her bed essentially doing her level best to continue ignoring him. Since he sounded like he was going to take a flying leap into full-fledged rant, I offered to take over putting S. to bed. All she had left to do was go to the bathroom to get her teeth brushed and then pick out a couple stories for me to read. She ignored instructions to come to the bathroom, and after ample warning, I put her stick horse (a favored possession) in timeout. Her first Nemo blanket and her Pooh blanket followed before she finally came to the bathroom.

After a bout of crying and hysteria, she finally settled down for a toothbrushing and then climbed in to bed relatively quietly. She's hopped out of bed twice, and has remained only upon the promise that her horse pillow would join her other toys currently in timeout.

I'm really tired of the constant battle of wills right now.

In a way, I worry less about S.'s future behavior because of her stubborness. She will never just go with the crowd. On the other hand, I feel a big responsibility to make sure she learns to behave well. She will be the sort to want to coerce others to her bidding.


Friday, May 26, 2006

Health Insurance

Generally speaking, I like my health insurance, but I do have had a couple of interesting scenarios come up.

1. I received a bill charging me a co-pay for vaginal birth on February 18, February 19 and February 20, 2005. Since I came home from the hospital with only one child, I thought that was a bit much. Situation was resolved with some laughter from the customer service rep who took my call with minimal fuss. Two weeks later, I received a refund check (I had lost track of my payments and had actually gone over by $60).

2. I just received my third bill for L.'s allergist appointment. The first bill, I thought was a mistake (sometimes things get a little behind on their payment schedule) since it showed I owed $191 for her appointment. I paid my co-pay at the time of her appointment, so the amount due should have been $0. The second bill came with the same amount due and a short nasty-gram reminding me to pay or else. I gave the health plan a call, and the customer service rep assured me she would get it fixed. Yesterday, I received bill number three. This time, it says I owe $211. This is not the direction I expected the amount due to go. I gave the health plan another call, and the customer service rep assures me that I don't owe anything. There is an amount pending with the insurance company. Once that has been accepted, they will re-apply my $20 co-pay. Sounds fishy to me, but I will wait another month for another bill.

Don't you just love calling a company that sent you a bill only to be told you don't actually owe anything? Why can't the bill state that $191 is pending with the insurer?

No room in the land of health insurance for logic.


Thursday, May 25, 2006

I Am So Angry About This, I'm Seeing Stars

Read about it here:

Short version: Man sexually assaults child. Man is only 5'1". Judge thinks man is too small to survive in prison. Man sentenced to 10 years probation. Famous last words of the judge: "I want control of you until I know you have integrated change into your life," the judge told Thompson. "I truly hope that my bet on you being OK out in society is not misplaced."

My thoughts:
The first message here is that you can get away with crap if you can show that prison would be detrimental to your health?!?! Maybe next time it'll be, 'Oh, I have asthma, I can't go to prison for robbing that bank and shooting that teller.'

The other message is 'we just put a pedophile back on the streets with no REAL way to keep him from molesting another child' in this nasty story. I hope that he merely used poor judgment with a 17 year old who looked 20, but I doubt it. It sickens me that this man is using his so-called weakness to get away with preying on the weakest members of our society!

Another quote from the oh-so-wise judge:
"You are a sex offender, and you did it to a child," she said.

But, she said, "That doesn't make you a hunter. You do not fit in that category."

I just have to wonder, 'What is her definition of a hunter?'

All I know is that I'm glad I don't live in Sidney, Nebraska where yet another pedophile is free with nothing more to stop him from striking again beyond 4 months of electronic monitoring. Great, just great.


Update: Here's the story on ABC News (in case you need to be subscribed to the Washington Post in order to read the other one)

Update 2: The child in question was 12!!!!! 12!!!!! No slack should be cut for him! None!

Mothergoosemouse Has a Contest!

Head on over to Mothergoosemouse and check out her contest. I'm lousy at these lyrical things, but still going to submit my answers (all three of them so far, LOL).


Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Things to Do

Current incarnation of my list of things to do:

Work related
  • Finish the 7 projects that are currently in various stages of 'abandoned for the moment because something with a higher priority came up'
  • Come up with the specs and business needs supporting me getting a laptop with VPN setup (hellooooo working from home effectively)
  • Complete document filing before somebody comes wanting to look at the paper manuals stockpiled in my office

Home related

  • Clean our bedroom. It is totally trashed.
  • Prep S. room for moving L. in. I think I am finally ready to get L. out of our room.
  • Figure out what color we're going to paint the new twin beds that should be available for pickup any day now. I'm thinking we should paint the beds a sort of winter white and stencil blue roses on the head and foot boards. The beds are sleigh bed style and have a perfect 'canvas' for a stenciling project.
  • Reorganize all my crafty stuff so that I can find what I want when I want it. L. has just discovered the joy of opening drawers and dumping everything on the floor. The direct result of all that is my craft stuff is in chaos.

Blog related

  • Get back to work on the template. I've been experimenting with tweaking the template to something a bit more personalized at home with so-so success. The latest draft is in shades of blue rather than the current pink. It's got some margin issues, and I'm just not satisfied with its feel.
  • Come up with something more interesting to put on here beyond to-do lists.


Monday, May 22, 2006

Some day I will rule you all

That's what Jason Foxtrot tap-danced on Sunday's Foxtrot comic.

Yes, I'm a dork and looked up a Morse code alphabet online and figured it out.


Smelly Kid, Smelly Kid

What are they feeding you?

We have no idea what has set S.' tummy off, but she had the most astonishing bout with gas yesterday. From tub time to bed time to beyond, she was a toot a minute. Mr. W. was the lucky one who put her to bed last night, and S. repaid him by tooting right in his face and cackling about it.

She kicked off her covers after laying in bed a quarter hour and in typical four year old fashion yelled for Mommy to come and cover her back up. I stepped into her room, and I swear my eyes started watering. Apparently, she spent the twenty minutes between when Mr. W. kissed her good night and the call for me, tooting away. I have never entered any room other than a public restroom with that particular concentration of foul odor. Oddly enough, the girl seems quite proud of her accomplishment. Unfortunately, the ozone layer is now a couple inches thinner after that particular load entered our atmosphere.


How Obnoxious is This?

Mr. W. deserves a medal for putting up with my eccentricities. My daughters' spouses will probably deserve one as well, since they will have to put up with me and all I teach my girls.

I've just spent half my lunch hour pondering paper prices. I've become addicted to Stampin' Up rubber stamping in the past couple of years and am now getting more into using their cardstock. Now Stampin' Up's cardstock comes in a fabulous array of colors and in a choice of two sizes. I've got the color side down since I mostly stay in their 'Bold Brights' color scheme, but I've been puzzling over whether it is more cost efficient (this hobby ain't cheap) to purchase 8.5 x 11 or 12 x 12 cardstock.

When individual colors are purchased, the 8.5 x 11 comes out to 18 cents/sheet and the 12 x 12 comes out to 32 cents/sheet. I estimated with the 8.5 x 11 cardstock, I can make three 5.5 x 4.25 inch cards out of two sheets of 8.5 x 11 cardstock with plenty of scrap cardstock to use as mounted pieces. This comes out to 2/3 sheet per card which is 12 cents per card. On the other hand, I can make two cards of the same dimensions out of 1 piece of the 12 x 12 cardstock. Which comes out to 1/2 sheet per card which makes it 16 cents per card. The plus with the 12 x 12 is that it fits in my scrapbooks better, and I would wind up with slightly more scrap paper (25.125 square inches vs 23.375 square inches per card). However, I already have more little bits of scrap paper than I can use, and my scrapbooking isn't what you would call very regular. Using these numbers, it is obvious that I should stick with the 8.5 x 11 cardstock (plus, that size fits better in my little stamping bag).

I also calculated cost per square inch: 8.5 x 11 = 93.5 square inches and .18/93.5 = .19 cents/square inch; 12 x 12 = 144 square inches and .32/144 = .2 cents/square inch.

You should see what I go through when I have to grocery shop. Fortunately, Mr. W. likes grocery shopping and does the bulk of it. Otherwise, I would spend an eternity with my calculator estimating the price per kernel of corn.

I tried to upload some pictures of cards I made from home this weekend, but my little dialup connection fizzled out. Maybe I will dedicate a post to my little creations. I've gotten a lot of inspiration from the Splitcoaststampers website. If you're in to scrapbooking and card making, it's definitely worth a look.

M.W. - who used up the last half of her lunch hour obsessing over how she spent the first half of her lunch hour obsessing

Friday, May 19, 2006

Rescuing Earthworms

S. has a new job title: Earthworm Rescue Worker. She takes this job very seriously. After every soaking rain, she wants to go out to our gutter, fish out the earthworms as they float by and dump them back in the grass. Given the opportunity, she would spend hours at this task.

No deep thoughts on this one, just amusement that my little girl is so very concerned about earthworms. She's also got a passion for roly polies and snails. My thing as a child was the toads that lived in our backyard.


Thursday, May 18, 2006

I hate my feet

Truly, I hate my feet. I have never actually liked my feet, and they are not aging well at all.

At birth, they were clubbed. At 6 months old, they were put in casts. After the casts came off, they went into those funky shoes that look like they are on the wrong feet (I still have one of those shoes somewhere in the house). Once those came off, I broke my leg and was in a body cast. Thank goodness I was only 9 months old and have NO memory of that particular ordeal. My mother and grandmother still tell stories about spraying my butt with Lysol when it became just a little too odoriferous. My dad lucked out with that one, too since he was serving in Vietnam at the time (yes, I am THAT old) I was in the body cast. Infant with perma-poop cast or a war zone, you pick.

Where was I? Oh yes, at age 3, I started ballet classes. They stopped when I was 14. My feet were flat, very, very flat. From toddlerhood up to now, when I walk around with wet feet on concrete, I leave oval-shaped footprints. My arch touches the ground when I stand. Ballet instructors want their students to have nice arches when their toes are pointed. I pointed and pointed and pointed to the point where tendons would spasm and the bones would sort of lock up. Still, no arch would form. I wobbled around en pointe so much that my toenails all fell off (iiiiiicccccckkkkk!), and still, no arch. My toe shoes always wore out on the edge of the 'box' rather than on the flat part.

Here I am at the ripe old age of **, and now I have feet that hurt pretty much all the time. Well, the foot where I broke three bones last spring hurts a lot less than the so-called healthy foot. Funny, huh? Somehow, the process of breaking bones in my foot realigned the three middle toes corresponding to the bones that broke. Translation: My feet don't match anymore. I'd post pictures, but I hate my feet. If I don't like looking at my feet, why would I subject anybody else to them?

I'm also starting to develop a misshapen bunion-type thingy on both of the tootsies. My younger sister has already had major surgery to deconstruct and put back together one of her feet. I suspect she will wind up having to have the other done as well. In the meantime, I imagine her feet are more mismatched than mine. The way I'm going, I'll wind up having similar stuff done in another 10 - 15 years. Boy, doesn't that sound like fun? Major surgery, big pain and then not allowed to walk at all for 2 months! Yippee!

I can't wear sandals because my feet roll in them. I won't wear cute open-anything shoes because my feet are hideously ugly. Maybe if I paint the toenails, I'll like my feet better? Nah. I've been hating them for way too long.

I did learn, a few years ago, not to put bright yellow polish on your toenails. Instead of looking bright and cheery, my toes looked diseased. Tealy green polish can have the same effect. Just so you know.



** 34

Six Months Already

So today's my blog's 6 month birthday. Six months ago today, on a Friday afternoon when I really should have been working, I set up Mrs. Wheezer. I didn't thinkI would still be at this 2 months later, let alone a whole half a year.

It's funny the ways this blog has changed me. Lately, when S. does something entertaining, or I'm frustrated with L.'s food allergy, I think how good I will feel once I do a brain dump here in Wheezerland. I've become much more interested in how the blogging community as a whole works. Would you believe that this month, I went through and read every last entry on the Waiter Rant blog? That's right, every - last - one. Boy, would I love to be able to express myself with the clarity, warmth and humor as well as Mr. Waiter. He truly has a gift.

You see all the blogs there on the right? I have only added blogs where I have read every single entry at one point in time or the other. I'm a little behind on a couple of them, but if you see yourself on the list, know that I've spent time reading your blog and feel privileged that you have shared with me (and the rest of the world).

I'm pretty happy with what I'm doing here on this blog. Already, I've gone back, read entries, and thought that I was so glad I wrote it here because I had forgotten all about it. I have not had a single nasty comment so far, and I'm glad. Conflict is not my style.

Having fun while it lasts.


Wednesday, May 17, 2006


Here are some lovely oopsies from the Wheezer household over the past few days:

S.' comment during Mother's Day dinner: Aunt L., you're just too fat to fit there.

L. has just learned that a toddler-sized chair does not make a good rocking horse. She has the knot on her head to prove it, too.

I just found out that Amazon will be shipping my mom's Mother's Day gift right around Father's Day.

S. was not kidding when she said she had to 'pee right NOW.'

Mr. W. needs to make nice comments about Mrs. W.'s hair unless he wants the Mr. Potato Head glasses to come flying at him again. Yes, I'm teaching my little sponges, er, girls to throw things when angry. Ooops!


Tuesday, May 16, 2006


Time it took me to complete today's Sudoku puzzle. Okay, okay, so it was only a three-star puzzle. Still, under three minutes! And yea, I did have the little helper number thingy turned on. It was still under three minutes.


Monday, May 15, 2006

It was Mother's Day Weekend All Over

Friday evening, we picked up L. only to be told that IST (incompetent substitute teacher) gave her some buttered toast at breakfast that morning. Apparently the sign with the two inch high letters stating: NO DAIRY OR DAIRY PRODUCTS FOR L. FOOD FROM HOME ONLY was a little too subtle for her. L. had a runny nose all day, and I crossed my fingers that would be the only reaction. Unfortunately, runny nose turned into upset tummy which turned into 48 hours of really nasty diarrhea and bleeding welts all over her poor little bottom. She's doing better today, but was pretty pathetic Sunday. All she wanted all weekend was mommy and sobbed pitifully when I was not holding her. It could have been worse, much worse, but my baby was miserable all weekend because of IST.

S. is old enough to 'get' Mother's Day, and I got the hugs, kisses and 'Mom, I like you' to prove it. I love that kid. Thursday evening I swapped out my 'Cathy' hair for something with a bit more style to it. Mr. W. (in a bit of a sulk for me having the nerve to chop off 6-8 inches of hair) refused to comment about it. S., on the other hand, informed me that my haircut was pretty. And has done so several times since then. Of course, I also decided to wear a little lipstick for the first time in years. S. noticed right away, 'Mommy... your lips! . . . Mommy ... your lips . . . Mommy ... your lips . . . Mommy, your lips ... are PINK!' Thank you, S. I was feeling a little self conscious about wearing makeup again, and now I know that my subtle lip color isn't so subtle after all. Of course, she made up for it by telling me, again, how pretty my haircut is. Now if she would only let me give her hair a trim. It has never been cut, and now that it's down to her bottom, it is time. However, I promised myself I would never force a hairstyle on my kids. Let's hope her appreciation for my haircut will translate into a desire for a cut of her own.


Friday, May 12, 2006

Going to a Party

Wednesday night right at S.' bedtime, she and I decided to do a little 'girl stuff.' She wanted to play in my hair, and I was of a mind to let her.

I sat on the floor while she clipped several ladybugs, butterflies, smiley faces and these weird triangular snap-clips in my hair (11 altogether). While she worked, this was our conversation:

S.: We're getting ready for a party.

M.W.: What sort of party?

S.: A dress-up party.

M.W.: So what are you going to wear? (thinking princess dress-up)

S.: My dragon costume (leftover from halloween)

M.W.: So what am I going to dress up as?

S.: A princess. You and L. will be princesses and Daddy will be a dragon like me.

M.W.: So what do dragons do?

S.: Dragons scare everybody out of the castle.

M.W.: What do dragons do with empty castles?

S.: They squash them.

M.W.: What about the princess from the castle?

S.: The dragon eats her!

M.W.: Oh my

S.: It's only pretend, silly.


Thursday, May 11, 2006

Most Interesting

I have Sitemeter set up on this blog because I'm curious about who reads the blog and how they got here. The most interesting way a few people have gotten here is by doing a Google search on "broccoli is a fruit" (yes, with the quotation marks). Would you believe my entry on S. explaining that broccoli is a fruit at home and a vegetable at Grandma's hosue is the third thing Google pops back? Apparently, a politician in Oregon got into an altercation questioning whether broccoli is a fruit.

So, welcome, even if you are an Oregonian who wandered here by accident while searching for something from The Colbert Report.


Wednesday, May 10, 2006

The Lost Blogger

Why is it that I can have a jillion things stirring about in my head that I would love to post on my blog while I'm going about my daily business? But when I sit down to the computer, they're gone.

I distinctly remember I had 5 or 6 things I wanted to log in here regarding the girls and thoughts on life, the universe and everything. They're gone right now. I guarantee that when I lay down to sleep tonight, they will all come pouring back. Ordinarily, I combat this with a teal green notebook I carry around with me. It's where I do my occasional mid-day, mid-project brain dumps. It's also got a couple of pockets, so if I scribble something on a scrap of paper, I can stuff it in the book without (too much) fear of misplacing the paper. Of course, I've lost the entire notebook, so my brain dumps are flitting away into outer space.

Well, I do have one rant about a particular person on my mind. I can't post it here, because I told this person about the blog. It would be better for our relationship if I were to be adult and actually tell this person why I am so irritated rather than letting him/her find out about it in cyberspace, so I'm leaving it off the blog. Don't you just hate censorship? LOL

S. has been particularly funny the past couple of weeks, but I can't remember the zillion and one humorous comments she's made lately. The only funny I can remember is her wearing her brand new Nemo pajamas last night and asking if she was 'too cute.' The only reason I can remember that one is because I just read Joansy's entry about the little RV's (which are, btw, too cute!).

I suspect part of the problem is that I'm coming off the adrenalin rush from this weekend. Top it off with high stress because Mr. W.'s back and ulcer are hurting him today. I do not focus well when he is sick.

That brings up a random question, though. Why is it that I can usually handle S.'s and L.'s illnesses with aplomb, but start falling to pieces when Mr. W. is sick? He's an adult. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I have also been censoring myself a bit on this blog regarding politics and religion. Don't know why really, since I'm not ashamed of any of my beliefs. I guess since I know some of you readers out there have such diverse stands, I hate to make anybody uncomfortable. Blame my reticence on my southern heritage that taught me that it is a mortal sin to make a guest feel awkward.

I leave you with one of my favorite quotes (that a PIM reminded me of earlier today) from Eleanor Roosevelt: A woman is like a tea bag-you never know how strong she is until she gets into hot water. A fine quote from a great lady.


Monday, May 08, 2006


Things which are unnerving:
  • Tornado sirens at 12:30 in the morning
  • Abrupt silence of tornado sirens before the storm passes
  • Power failure two minutes after tornado siren failure
  • The sound of your house creaking during especially vicious gusts of wind
  • A loud crash coming from your backyard while the wind is roaring

Things which are uncomfortable:

  • Sitting in a small hallway with 3 other people
  • Propping up a futon mattress while consoling a four year old and a 14 month old who would much rather be in their beds
  • Sleeping with a four year old who is unnerved enough that she wants to share a pillow with her mother
  • Looking out your window and watching the gawkers driving down your street
  • Going 38 hours without electricity
Things which are annoying:
  • @#(*&$ alarm systems that have a backup battery good for 28 hours and announce that fact by setting off the alarm at 4:30 in the morning the day after power was lost
  • Husbands who can sleep through above alarm for the 45 minutes it took to figure out where the battery was and yank it out of the wall
  • Electric companies that cannot give an estimate for when power will be back on over the phone to a paying customer but will make such an announcement on the evening news
  • Losing an entire refrigerator and deep freeze’s contents because the power was out just a tiny bit too long

We had extremely nasty weather in the wee hours of Saturday morning. There has been a lot of damage in our little town, but our house seems to be spared. We’re still not sure about the roof, though. None of our shingles are missing, but who knows if they’re still any good after being pummeled by wind and hail. Our basketball goal snapped off at the base, and we have some damage to our privacy fence. We were very, very, very lucky.


Wednesday, May 03, 2006


Living smack dab in the center of Tornado Alley, I've grown accustomed to monthly siren tests, weather watches and warnings and debates over whether or not an actual tornado touched down after a particularly violent storm. Friday night/Saturday morning's weather hit just a little too close to home for comfort.

My mother and father in law had a very small tornado touch down in their yard. It took out part of their wood fence, uprooted a plum tree, tilted the utility pole in their back yard, peeled back some of the metal flasching on their house and ripped off some shingles. They had very, very minor damage, but neighbors a mile or two away were not so fortunate.

It was awful looking at one especially hard hit house. Three quarters of the roof was missing, insulation was strewn all over their yard, metal siding had wrapped around utility lines (really bizarre sight) and a magnificent old tree lay on its side with roots reaching into the air. This is the first time I have seen tornado damage up close and personal, and my heart aches for the families whose houses were so badly damaged. Especially amazing is the fact the houses 1.5 blocks away show no damage. Not even a limb down or extra leaves on the ground. Truly amazing how so much energy can be focused in such a small area.

We live on the other side of town and got nothing worse than some thunder and lightning with a bit of a heavy downpour. Two years ago though, we lived 1/2 mile from my in-laws and would have been in the middle of Saturday morning's fury.

I'm thinking we might need to budget for a storm cellar as our current house has no basement and not even a particularly well-enclosed interior room to hang out in during a tornado warning.

M.W. - still having chills

Monday, May 01, 2006

Why Is It...

... that the same man who cannot stand to leave the ironing board up during the day while we are at work can leave a spoiled chunk of meat sitting on the counter indefinitely?

... the same child (S.) who loathed my singing as a baby will now ask me to sing the same little ditty over and over and over and over and over until she has it memorized?

... that L. can already pick her nose and eat the boogers?

... when it is time for bed, S. will all of a sudden decide she has to have a glass of water? This is after we fight her all day to just take a few sips to ward against dehydration.

... I can work my tail off all afternoon, and have nothing to show for it at the end of the day?