I Despise Windows

Have you noticed that I've been somewhat absent in the blogosphere lately?

I have a laptop running Windows Vista that I used to really like. Notice the past tense usage.

I think I have worms...the electronic kind. As a result, it took 54 MINUTES to start my computer (including restarting twice by removing the battery), open Internet Explorer and log in to the website I wanted to use. I feel like a caveman.

Anyone have any suggestions? Other than buying a Macbook? I've tried three different registry cleaners and three different anti-virus programs.

Blogging from my iPhone is not really practical for anything other than short, plain blogs. Also, if you've noticed that I haven't been leaving comments on your blogs, please know that I miss you but using Google Reader on my phone makes me crazy and leaving comments is even harder.

I think this is electronic payback for my dissing the new Apple iPad. I would dearly LOVE to have one right now.


- Posted using BlogPress from Dixie, my iPhone

Love, Love Will Keep Us Together

Now you will have that song stuck in your head.

You're welcome.

We celebrated Valentine's Day by taking the dogs for a run in the woods.

No, not that kind of run because, Hello? Have you met me?

We were riding the four-wheeler and said dogs were running whereupon they spied an armadillo. Maddie the German Shepherd managed to catch the armadillo, who I've named Reuban, by the tail and hilarity ensued. Dazey the Golden Retriever aka Big Chicken was briefly interested until Reuban jumped on her nose whereupon she decided to studiously examine a suspicious mud puddle until Maddie had Reuban safely under control.

Armadillos are amazingly sturdy, feisty creatures and Rueban was no exception. We called a truce, signed the Canine-Armadillo Treaty of 2010 and went on our merry way.

Upon returning home we immediately settled in for some more redneck fun...NASCAR.

No, I am not a fan. Again, Hello? Have you met me? I do not understand the fascination with watching cars go in a circle.

My sweet husband completed my Valentine's Day by gifting me with roses...






and a blueberry bush.






I do hope that the barren condition of my gifts is not symbolic of the state of our marriage.

Actually, he knows my practical nature and gifted me with florals that won't die...at least until I forget to water them this summer.

Hope you all had a Happy Valentine's Day too!

Who's On First

Mom steps over piles of dirty clothes, blankets, quilts etc. to retrieve clean set of sheets from dryer.  Walks into living room where teenage daughter and tween daughter are lounging around watching TV.


Mom:  Whose sheets are these? 

Girls:  (simultaneously) Mine.

Mom:  (helpfully) They are off-white.

Girls:  (still simultaneously) Mine.

Mom:  (patiently to tween) I asked you to take your sheets off your bed and put them in the laundry room.  (turning to teen)  Did you take yours in there too?

Teen:  Yes.

Mom:  (surprised because Teen rarely takes the initiative like that) But there was only one set of sheets in the laundry room to be washed.

Tween:  (confidently) I put mine in there like you said.

Mom: (to Teen) Are you SURE you put yours in there too?

Teen: (positively) Yes.

Mom and tween go back to the laundry room and wade through the piles of clothes and sundries. 


Mom:  Where did you put your sheets?

Tween:  (pointing to the one empty spot on the floor) There.

Mom decides these MUST be Tween's sheets because a) that's the exact spot the sheets were in when Mom found them and b) Teen rarely does anything without being asked.  She heads back into the living room still holding the fresh-from-the-dryer sheet set.


Mom: (to Teen)  These are Tween's sheets.  Where are yours?

Teen:  I put them in the laundry room.

Mom:  They aren't there.

Teen:  Well, I only had the thin sheet.

Mom:  All sheets are thin.  Be more specific.

Teen:  I never had the other sheet.

Mom: (slightly less patient) Which sheet?

Teen:  The one that goes on the bed.

Mom: (deep breath)  ALL sheets go on beds.  Be more specific.

Teen:  You know, the one with the stretchy stuff on it.

Mom: You mean the fitted sheet. So where is it?

Teen:  I never had one.

Mom:  You never had a fitted sheet?

Teen:  No.

Mom:  So what have you been sleeping on?

Teen: The thin sheet.

Mom:  The flat sheet?  (thinking of the laundry room where there are NO sheets) Where is it?

Teen:  I don't know, I never had it.

Mom:  So you just had a fitted sheet?

Teen:  No.

Mom:  No, what?  No fitted sheet?!

Teen:  Right.  Just the thin one with the stretchy stuff.

Mom:  THAT IS THE FITTED SHEET! And it's NOT in the laundry room!

Teen: Oh.  I don't know where it is.

Tween has been observing this whole conversation quietly.  Mom turns to go into Tween's room and put the sheets on her bed and Tween follows her.


Mom:  (sees fitted sheet ON Tween's bed) Your sheet is still on your bed!!!!  Why did you say you took it to the laundry room?

Tween: (shrugging) I thought you just meant the thin sheet.

Mom gives up and tosses sheets on Teen's bed and goes to drown her sorrows in a box of Whitman's Chocolates.

My Modem Hates Me

If Hughesnet ever offers you a fancy, shmancy, faster "upgraded" replacement modem, RUN.

It is much slower and less reliable than the old modem, no matter what Bob in India says.

I think my Zumba instructor, Kristi, hates me too. She made us use weights tonight and as a result I cannot lift my arms and may need someone to cut me out of my shirt.

Indian Bob and Kristi may be in cahoots to drive me right over the edge of reason.






- Posted using BlogPress from Dixie, my iPhone

Experiencing More Technical Difficulties...Please Stand By

We may try installing our upgraded Hughesnet modem tonight.

If you don't hear from me you'll know it was an epic fail.


- Posted using BlogPress from Dixie, my iPhone

Don't Talk To Strangers And Other Good Advice Your Mom Gave You

Wes is such a good-hearted person.  He always wants to believe the best in people and occasionally it gets him into trouble.  Like the other day...

Wes:  Hey, did I tell you the other day I saw a guy walking on the interstate with a gas can?

Me:  (already wary)  Oh?

Wes:  Yes, he was such a decent-looking guy, well-dressed, kinda reminded me of my dad.

Me:  (knowing where this going) Hmmm.

Wes:  So I --

Me: (interrupting) Tell me you didn't stop and talk to him.

Wes:  Well...I pulled over to ask him...and uh...uh, you know... his car was probably just a little ways down the road, and uh...

Me:  You gave him a ride, didn't you?

Wes: (sheepishly) ....Yeah.

So at this point I'm thinking that, while it was really an unwise thing to do, I understand that Wes tends to run out of gas quite often and would therefore have sympathy for a fellow-traveler.

Wes: (tone becomes indignant) And would you believe that when I asked how far it was to his car he said, "Oh, I don't have a car.  I got a DUI and can't drive.   I just carry this gas can so people will stop and pick me up."

Me:  (Silent but with that I-told-you-that-you-can't-just-go-around-giving-random-strangers-the-benefit-of-the-doubt look on my face)

Wes:  (feeling the need to fill in the silence)  He was going to Hot Springs...to the races.

Me:  (more silence and stern looks)

Wes:  Um, he said you wouldn't believe how many people fall for the gas can thing.  He said he could get to Hot Springs and back in a day.

Me: (refusing to be impressed by the potential serial killer's travel ingenuity)  Have you not seen enough episodes of Criminal Minds and CSI?!?!?!

Wes: (defensively) Well, he looked really nice!

Me:  Ted Bundy was nice-looking too.

Wes:  Um, so anyway,  I told him he really pulled one over on me and then I drove about 85 mph to the next exit and dropped him off.

(About 5 minutes passes in silence with Wes happily thinking the subject has been dropped.)

Me:  I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!!!

Wes:  Well, I really kept my eye on him.

Me:  Oh, good.  So you would have seen him pull a gun and shoot you between the eyes.

Wes: (knowing when it's best to just give up) Yep.

We Are Currently Experiencing Technical Difficulties

So the Hubs has been squirreling away money for a while in his TV fund and since tomorrow is his birthday I kicked in enough to help him reach his goal.

He is now the proud owner of a 47-inch LCD flat panel HDTV.

And I'm in hiding in the bedroom. I don't do well with change...the hopeful kind or not.

We had this antique old TV from, like, the 90s. It was the bomb back in the day. Problem is...these new-fangled flat-panel TVs are wider than the old kind. Which means the new one doesn't fit in my lovely entertainment center. Boo.

So now the armoire part of my entertainment center has been moved to the other side of the room and the two bookcases are now flanking my coffee table upon which the Hubs' new toy is perched. And all my knick-knacks that were sitting on said bookcases are now scattered on my fireplace hearth and mantel. And I can see every. speck. of. dust. on them. And the dust bunnies are attacking. Please tell me y'all have monster dust bunnies under your furniture too!

So, I was supposed to read the instructions for Hubs because you know men don't read instructions. I took them out of the box and they unfolded into a sheet as big as my dining room table. And they were covered in color-coded diagrams and technical jargon. At this point I informed Hubs that he did not want my help. For the sake of my sanity. And our marriage.

I hear him on the phone now with Customer Service. That can't be good.

And now he's muttering something about needing a technician. Shhhh. I'm going dark.