Wordless Wednesday

The Blahs

It has been a quiet, rainy evening. I have settled in for the evening and am watching Juno. I hope that it lives up to the hype that I have heard about it.

I have the blahs today. I've had them since last night. They won't go away. So, so much on my mind lately. And none of it good.

I'm worried about my mom and the up and coming dialysis. I'm worried about baby Stellan and his family. I'm worried about how many bills I can pay with my check this week. I'm worried about getting my kids registered for school next week. I'm worried about the lunch balances that were left over from last year and how I can manage to get them paid off. I'm worried about how I will get their school supplies before school starts. I'm worried about living the rest of my life in this house and not be able to fix anything that is broken, including me.

Storm the Heavens for Stellan

Heavenly Father, hold this family in the palm of your and little Stellan in the crook of your arm. Give them comfort, Lord, as they look to the doctors who minister to little Stellan. Give the doctors knowledge and compassion as they forge new ground for Stellan. Father God, it is all for your glory. Be with them as they face the unknown. YOU can supply the peace that surpasses all understanding, Father. Give them that peace. Father, be with them as they cling tightly to the hem of your robe. In Jesus' Sweet Name, Amen and Amen.

It's a Love/Hate Relationship

I love our house. I hate our house.

Let me explain. We live with my father in law in his 100 + year old farmhouse. After Tommy lost his job last year, we struggled and lived paycheck to paycheck on my salary. We did ok for the most part, but it was hard. It still is some days. Once the bills were paid and groceries bought, there was very little to last until the next check. Howard, my f-i-l, came to us and asked us to move in with him. His reasoning was that his health was declining, he could no longer take care of the house, and he wanted to spend more time with Skylar and Alex. We weighed our options and finances, and decided it was really a no-brainer to move in with him.

After much cleaning up and cleaning out, we moved in. The house was built in the late 1800s. It has 12 ft ceilings in all rooms. It has the original heart of pine hardwood floors. There is a globe light on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. There are 4 bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs and 1 bedroom and another bathroom downstairs. There is a living room, den, dining room, kitchen and laundry room/back porch downstairs. There is a sitting area between two of the bedrooms up stairs.

That's the great part about the house. Now, for the not so great parts of the house.

The foundation has shifted, so that when you are walking in certain parts of the house you are actually walking down-hill. The floors slope in just about every room of the house, both upstairs and down. There is no central heat or air in the house. We have 1 window unit that has to cool the entire house, or at least try to. We keep the doors to the dining room closed and the door to Howard's living room closed to try to keep it cool. (Howard has a separate window a/c unit in his bedroom that cools his bedroom, bathroom and living room. He also has a separate gas heater for the winter.) There is a gas heater in our living room that heats it and the upstairs. The dining room and kitchen do not have any heat or a/c at all. The walls in all rooms, except for 2, are plaster. Know what plaster does when the foundation settles and shifts? It cracks. Not little bitty cracks, HUGE cracks. Across the entire walls. Not to mention, the original wiring and plumbing. Oh, and we have a few ghosts wandering around as well.

I am grateful for the home that Howard has provided. I truly am. I love him even more for what he has done for us. But, holy cow, is he ever a pack rat! We can't throw anything out because when we do, he'll be looking for it 2 days later. It never fails. Ever.

Thankfully, the house is big enough to hold all of his stuff and most of ours. We still have boxes stacked in corners in various rooms.

Earlier this week, Tommy declared today to be a cleaning out day. We tackled the back porch/laundry room. I.AM.FREAKING.TIRED. Three trips to the dump. We can see the whole porch now, though.

I would love to have enough money to totally remodel the entire house. From top to bottom. But for now I will just have to continue with my love/hate relationship with the house.

Inky's Home!

My cousin received a tip about my aunt's stolen teacup poodle Monday (read about it http://bumblebeesandbugladies.blogspot.com/2009/07/little-lost-inky.html).

Cindy and Mamaw met the lady at the local humane society this afternoon. One look was all that it took for Mamaw to confirm that it was indeed Inky. I'm not sure who was more excited, Mamaw or Inky.

The lady who had Inky was very nice and had taken great care of him. She had no idea that he had been stolen until she saw the ad in the classified section of the newspaper.

It is great to see that there are still some honest, compassionate people left in the world!

Not My Child Monday

My son does not mangle the words of songs. Nope! Not my son! He surely doesn't sing "I'm Going Out with My BOOBS On." Could not be my son!

My daughter can not be the one who does not know what Kentucky Fried Chicken is. Not Skylar! No way! She did not pipe up on the way home from a softball game and request to eat dinner at KFC. Tommy agreed to stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken. Skylar did not say No Daddy! I want KFC. I don't want Kentucky Fried Chicken.

My son did not look at a lady in the undergarment aisle of Walmart and go "Bow Chicka Wah-Wah" That was not my son.

These could not be my children.....

Little Lost Inky

On Sunday, July 5, 2009, my aunt's teacup poodle, Inky, was stolen from her front porch. That's bad, but it gets worse. Much worse.

Who stole Inky? My stupid cousin and his freaky girlfriend/slave. Why? They're bums without jobs. (No, I do not think that every unemployed person is a bum) These two are definately bums. They take whatever they can from my aunt's house. Food, toilet paper, medication that both my aunt and her daughter need, even light bulbs out of their sockets. I'm not kidding. They are bums. That is the nicest thing that I can call them in polite company.

Ok, so Daniel opens the front door and lets Inky out onto the porch where Naomi grabs him and jumps in some guys truck that they conned into taking them to a Flea Market. Daniel had an announcement made, advertising Inky. Yep. He sold him.

My other aunt arrived at the flea market just a few minutes after he sold Inky. He admitted to selling the dog and was quickly arrested. Somehow, he was able to post bond the following day.

We (we being the rest of the family) sprang into action. My cousin, Cindy, made flyers to hand out and post at the flea market. Jeremy posted a Lost item in the local newspaper classifieds. I contacted a local columnist, The Stroller, who put the information in his column. We (me, my mom, my aunt, and Alex) combed the flea market on Saturday, July 11, from 7 am until 12 noon, when we were releived by Cindy and Nicole. Tommy and I went back on Sunday, July 12, to try our luck again. We had no luck that day either. Neither did Cindy.

Last Monday, July 13, I decided to have the flyer translated into Spanish to see if we had any luck. We posted the new posters this past weekend.

Thursday, July 16, was the court date. Accompanying my aunt were Cindy, Nancy, Harrison, Jeremy, me, Tommy and her new neighbor, Salena. Daniel would not meet anyone's eyes inside while we were waiting to see the judge. When the case was called, he requested a jury trial. He did that just to prolong the inevitable, but whatever. The best thing that resulted from the court date was that my aunt was able to get a restraining order against Bonnie and Clyde.

Fast forward to today. A call about Inky. Finally! A lady called Cindy, claiming to be the person who purchased Inky. She agreed to meet with Cindy and my aunt tomorrow at 2 pm to return Inky. She asked for the $50 that she purchased him for and the money for a vet visit. Sounds fair to us.

We'll see how this goes. More news tomorrow....

Vacation Recap

Our vacation was awesome! We had lots of fun and I got some great pictures. There were a few hilarious incidents along the way.

Before we got on I-85 to head to Helen, we had to make a pit stop at the Spinx station in Greer. Tommy, Kathy and Alex headed inside for drinks and snacks while Skylar, Ashley and I remained in the van. A car pulled into a parking spot on our right. The male occupant exited the car quite loudly. The female driver rolled her window down to yell at him. Their conversation went something like this...

Male "I want a G.D. drink. It's my f-ing money."

Female "You need to stop spending all your money on beer and ciggarettes. You spend it all and then complain that you are broke. I'm tired of hearing about it."

Male "Shut the H. up. I keeps my cigarrettes in the freezer so they last longer. I ain't bought no smokes in 2 weeks. I gets my check every week from the 'ployment commission and it's mine. Not yours."

Female "You gonna know whats yours when I leave your a@# here."

And, then she proceeded to drive away. I sure hope he got home.

After we got into Helen, we stopped in downtown to walk around and grab some lunch. We took some photos of the kids by the fountain in the town square. It was then that we encountered the Crack Ho. She approached me and asked if I would take her picture with Leroy/Jim Bob/Bobby Joe whoever. She had her own digital camera, so I said that I would. They posed the best that they could, and I snapped the picture. I gave the camera back to her and told her that she could zoom in on the picture when she uploaded it onto her computer. She just gave me a strange look.

Off we went to the Live Tarantulas Gallery so that Alex could hold one of the creepy crawlies. Then we went to the Heaven Bound Tattoo Studio with the hopes that Skylar could get her belly button pierced. However, in White County, GA, it is considered "Literal penetration of a minor" for anyone under the age of 18 to receive a body piercing in that county. So, I got a tattoo instead.

As I was being inked, guess who shows up at the tattoo studio? Yep, the Crack Ho. She came in and asked the guy behind the counter if anyone had turned in her digital camera? What the hell? She tells the guy that someone stole it from her when she had her picture taken with Leroy/Jim Bob/Bobby Joe. Excuse me?? Apparently, she did not recognize Tommy or the kids. Tommy quickly told her that I was the one who took her picture and gave her back the camera. She just says She did? Oh, ok. If anyone finds it and turns it in, will you hold it for me? She turns and walks out. Guess what?? The freaking camera was in her back pocket. Guess she needed a little more crack to remember where it was.

Here are some of our pictures from the trip...

Georgia, Look Out! Here we come!

Van pulls out at 10 AM sharp.

Still left to do:
Pack Alex's bags
Take Sadie to the Doggie Spa
Move Lizard from Alex's room to downstairs so that it can be fed
Purchase Live Crickets for said Lizard (DONE)
Finish packing for me and Tommy
Make sure Skylar has everything
Go to bed.....

Night all!