S.S.S.S.

If you know me, then you know I am not a fan of snakes, at ALL.  I don't like the good, the bad, and they are UGLY in my book.  In fact, I don't really even like DEAD snakes.  I don't like them here or there, I don't like them anywhere.  I have done my share of running over them growing up down my parent's long lane.  They seem to have a plethora of poisonous snakes; I still wear a rattlesnake belt that my brother(age 13 at the time) killed in our front yard.   Again I know that might be shallow of me and if I lived in Maine, or somewhere else North then I would probably brake for them and let them cross in peace.  I have even gardened a couple of years with a little garden snake and I knew approximately where he lived in my lush shade garden, but it never changed my reaction.  He always scared the livin' ---- out of me, as I immediately screamed  __ __  __ T !*@!  That seems to be my word of choice, when I'm scared ----less, or mad as hell.  We all have our "word" and that is mine.  It could worse. It could be better.  It is what it is.  Right, Carol!  Anyway,  I think gardening in peace and harmony went out with the bath water as I grabbed a hoe that day and took care of business.  No Mas.  Sorry dude, I tried. Then you have to remove the snake.  If you ever get to see me remove a snake, you might want to put on  some Depends.  My movement is somewhere between Elaine's dance from Seinfeld, a convulsion, a spasm, and a giant shiver.  My facial expression is just downright ugly, think Don Knotts.  My mouth is absolutely dreadful, think Tourette's  Syndrome.  I know when I meet my Maker he will probably want to have a conversation about this.  HE won't win. HE could probably change my mind, but not the heart.   Thankfully, HE is a loving and forgiving GOD... Besides, if HE had put me in the Garden of Eden then we might still be there, living in peace and harmony.   I would have had nothing to do with that SNAKE and certainly WOULDN'T be shooting the ---- with him, PERIOD.  Secondly, I love being Naked- very natural as GOD intended!  Anyway,  the point of all this explanation is to show y'all some pictures of what my friend Sally got to witness when she was in Alabama at a hunting lodge.  These "lovely" creatures were  living underground ,at the front steps, going into this lodge.  Apparently someone saw one come out and shot it.  Then another one came out.  BOOM.  Then some gasoline was involve.  I 'm sure some more shooting, and so on and so forth.  Needless to say, THANK GOD I wasn't there because I would have been SHOOTING, ----ING, SHIVERING and SOUNDING like a sailor.

P.S.  While we are on the subject of "lovely" creatures...this bad boy(13ft.+) was recently killed in a beautiful river less than an hour from my house.  I won't be going there anytime soon either.  

A Love Affair

I'm having a love affair.  A serious LOVE affair.  I just can't get enough of him...I even took him to work today, so that I could use and abuse him, between customers of course!  Man can he SUCK like no other!  Wow, that sounds a little dirty...BUT he is DIRTY, very, very DIRTY!  He's an ANIMAL.  His name is Dyson and I heart him very, very much.  

Owls

LOVE HOO YOU ARE !  This just makes me smile and then some.

Progress?!

Oh SNAP!  Painting the three rooms was a little unrealistic, actually a lot unrealistic.  Hence story of my life.  However, I did get one done by the hair of my chinny chin chin.  I think I was literally hanging curtains as HIMSELF was driving into The Ville.   It has literally taken six months to do one room.  Good Grief.  Really!  When we moved into this house, we lost about a 1,000 square feet and lots and lots of storage.  So I am trying to claim this space and make it work for us and  that requires a lot of organization, time, money, and being  realistic.  Unfortunately, I lack in all of those departments.  The Living Room still isn't done.  I am waiting on a chandelier, need two lamps for the sofa table, need an electrician to put floor plugs in and hang the chandelier, a beautiful orchid or something something to go on the sofa table, bamboo blinds for all the windows, a cushion made for the window seat,would love to paint the bead board ceiling blue and  a big ol' money tree in the backyard.  Progress?! Oh SNAP!  

Dating myself

I am either really wrong and dating myself or I am really right, and still dating myself, BUT R.E.M.'s Murmur has to be one of the best albums of all times.  Also, just an f.y.i. for all my three readers, I think I have a blister on the bottom of foot from YOGA(all two days in a row)...I'm thinking that is kind of sad and wrong and dating myself or great, yoga's kicking your generous ass and you're still DATING yourself.  What a conundrum this aging process is.  Something to think about on the mat tomorrow.  NAMASTE and then some, Nan

Himself

SHITFIRE...guess who shot an elk yesterday and is coming home EARLY.  Yes, HIMSELF!  Where am I in the painting department? Maybe, two thirds of A room done, and that is being generous...Does HIMSELF care?  What he will care about is the fact that once again, I started a project, without his knowing, and once again, it will not be completed.  Yes, I will point out that he came home early, and with that HIMSELF will roll his eyes and shake his head,  and growl.  I then will throw my arms around HIMSELF and tell him how much I missed him and that I am glad he is home.  Why not tell HIMSELF what my intentions are while he is gone... Well, that is easy!  I don't want to hear it. I don't want to see it(eyes roll).  I am not asking for permission.  I am doing it.  His idea of decorating is where to hang his Elk mount.  Now you understand.  I will complete the living room, no problem...I will start the hallway because that is where I really wanted to paint, and that might not get done.  I will also paint the dining room, then the kitchen, then Reid's room.

No, we don't have to hire a painter, but HIMSELF might have to pick up a paint brush, because now I am on a roll.

Shooting and then some

After the harsh realization that Nate the Great, a.k.a Nate Berkus is never coming to my house.   Nor is Peter Walsh (professional organizer) for that matter.  Even my cleaning lady isn't coming...She "quit me" earlier this summer.  So I have had to take matters into my own hands.  I am thinking about becoming a minimalist .  I am seriously sick of all the crap.  My husband left this past Thursday at 6:00 a.m to go walk his gun in search of the elusive elk for a week.  By 7:45 am the paint swatches came out and were taped to the wall as I sipped my morning java.  By 8:05 am, I called Sampson's and Ashley answered.  Ahhh, Ashley.  He is every married woman's little fantasy.  Muscles, Dirty blond hair, and he knows his paint.  "Whatever you say Ashley...that sounds great.  See you in a few."  By 8:38, paint loaded by Ashley, my heart beating a little faster,and my cheeks a little redder, I was home.  Floral White.  Here we go.  Good-bye Weston Flax.  It has been great knowing you.  You have warmed my rooms up in a couple of houses, but I am just ready for a new clean look.  A "look" that has to be done in one week, so that my husband doesn't shoot me... I am shooting for three rooms.  Stay tuned, Nan

P.S.  Picture of lollipop from Valentine's Day that was up on a shelf...almost permanently attached to my charming little R.WOOD saucer. This was found mid summer.  No wonder my cleaning lady "Quit" me.