Really?

Do you know anybody who falls off of a pair of flats? I mean really. Why do these things happen to me? I don't wear heels.....I wear flats. Today I had on THE cutest pair ever. Just the right shade of dusty pink to go with my outfit. I received compliments on them all day. I love them. But today, they got the best of me. You know how silly some women look when they are striding very confidently down the sidewalk in a pair of high heels and suddenly they fall off of them......the heel goes one way...their foot goes another. Well, not as silly as I looked today when I fell off my flats. Picture me...black skinny jeans, top with a huge flower on it in shades of red, pink and rose....cute long black sleeveless sweater.....precioussssssssssssssssssss flats. I'm walking down the halls of school like I'm SOMEBODY. I'm talking to kids....I'm issuing orders....I'm IN CHARGE. Suddenly my world changes. I have fallen off of a pair of flats. This isn't something who is in charge does. I think maybe I should just consider it a talent. Do you? I mean, can you fall off of a pair of flats? Please, it is an act of a professional......DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME!

Nutz

Strange goin's on at the Brannan Farm. We got a new dishwasher installed over the weekend....that's a lie...we STARTED installing over the weekend and finished yesterday. But that's neither here nor there. It's no way strange for our projects to take a day or a century. One project took a millenium. Hang with me now. Here's the strange part. When we rolled out the old dishwasher, I was really kinda excited. I thought there was probably enough dog and cat hair underneath it to have a sweater knitted. You know they're doing that now, right? People are having sweaters and scarves knitted out of their deceased pet's hair. I'm not sure if that's normal or even legal. Okay,fine. No dog or cat hair was there.....only a WALNUT. A huge walnut. We don't eat walnuts. I don't cook with them...we don't munch on them. We are nuts but we don't EAT many nuts. How do these things happen? Don't you want to roll your dishwasher out of your cabinet now to see if you have a walnut under it? Betcha do! I looked around for the culprit....possibly a pet squirrel I didn't know we had. Missy, the dog, stood and stared at me hoping I would give her the walnut to eat. Chica, the cat, stared at the walnut, then at me as if to say... so?.....stranger things have happened in this house. Then she turned and walked away with her tail in the air. No one would take blame for the walnut. Unclaimed walnut. O well, just one more extremely strange, not to be explained phenomena on THE FARM.

Baby Steps...........

I do not know from whence it came, how's that for poetic writing, but my new dishwasher is taking baby steps to arrive underneath my o so impatient cabinet. It started out somewhere in Maytag Factory Land.....then made it's way to Lowe's in Abilene, Tx....and on down the highway to my house. It then sat like a lump in my entry for about 10 days. It was bored, I was impatient, my dishes remained dirty. Finally....TODAY IS THE BIG REVEAL....we are gonna take it out of it's cardboard house and install it. I waved a fond, but not sad farewell to my old dishwasher...Been Nice Knowin' Ya.....and happily sat and watched the goin's on of NDI(new dishwasher installation). I'm smiling, my dishes are ecstatic, the knives and forks are merrily dancing in the drawer. Lots of tools scattered along my bar and kitchen floor....even the puddle of water that leaked from my old DW and the water line did not disturb me. Nope it is a happy day on the Brannan Farm. Much grunting and growling and discussion commenced .....instructions read, arguments had. Nuts and bolts and all sorts of things flew around...then SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!! All action stopped. Conversation became stilted. Busy hands stilled. Frowns appeared. The new DW let out a sigh of frustration....or was that me? Part Alert, Part Alert.....We have a missing part. I feel like the kid at Christmas whose dad can't quite get the toys put together..... I AM THAT KID. So for now, because I live in a small West Texas town that doesn't have a hardware store open on Sunday, I must wait to play until tomorrow. My old DW gone, my new DW sitting like a blob in my kitchen and my cabinet looking like a 6 year old with a missing front tooth. The dishes are depressed, the forks and knives refuse to come out of their drawer. The baby steps have ceased. The only sound is the tap tap tap of water still dripping into a coffee can from the line underneath my sink. There is no Joy in Mudville....nor on the Brannan Farm.

Embarrassin'

I have a little situation that's somewhat embarrassing.....or has the potential to be. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't you be rather taken back if you walked in your front door with guests and YOUR dirty undies were scattered all over your house? I mean Chinese Laundry on the floor. I try to pretend that they are very small area rugs.....I'm not fooling anybody, but the effort is valiant. Now before you assume I'm a horrendous housekeeper.....not saying you'd be wrong...but okay fine.......I do not walk out the front door and leave my UNmentionables on the den floor, in the entry, kitchen or hall. It's m'dog. Missy the underwear carrying Rat Terrier. She goes to the dirty clothes and picks and chooses.....SOMETIMES it is a dress, blouse or pj's. That's bad enough....but I draw the line when it looks like the bad end of a sorority party in the family room. Do you have a clue why she doesn't just go ahead and put them in the washer, dryer, fold them and then put them in the dresser drawers? I asked her that. She looked at me like one of my kids used to when I asked them to do their laundry. Who me? Her little beady black eyes dart around the room, then look squarely at me. She haughtily raises her head and without another glance nor fare thee well, she jumps on the couch and settles down for a little siesta. Does she carry them back...nope. Does she act ashamed...not in this life time. Now I can just see you shaking your head and saying.....shut the doors to the dirty clothes hamper you idiot. Problem solved. Don't think so!! She can open them. Now your next suggestion is shut the door to the laundry room...I can see the wheels of your brain turning.......well, yes I could. But Chica, the cat's, litter box is in that room.....do I wanna deal WITH THAT???? Any more suggestions wise guy? I think not! So for now, I suppose I'll just have to give an UNDERWEAR alert to incoming traffic. Life is good on the Brannan Farm......bizarre but good.

Silence

I feel guilty......no, not of felony charges, but of no words. I have no words. I'm listening to the sound of silence. I'm a dictionary with blank pages. An empty conversation balloon over a character. I had no words this morning for my other blog. Hearts are breaking all over the free world. Actually they're not, but that makes me sound important. I'm just not feeling it today. Possibly this is a big relief to you because I'm silent. FOR A CHANGE. I wonder if I've used all my words for the next day, week or month. Maybe I have 'No Word Syndrome'. I think I'll Google that. It's probably a medical condition. Hopefully not a psyche condition, but I'm leaning toward that. I can see myself like Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. After that lobotomy.....his words were gone. He was DONE. Or maybe I'm just a Word Loser for awhile. I'm going to walk outside and see if there is a huge neon WL on the top of my house....blinking off and on. I would go looking for my words underneath my furniture, but I have to tell you....I'm NOT THAT BRAVE. Do you know what might possibly be under my furniture? It could very well be a small nation of weird things .....uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Not gonna look. If my words are there, they're on their own. I wonder if Chica, my cat, buried them in her litter box. Wouldn't that be just.......I have no words for that. So I shall just sit with my guilt and wait for my words to return. When they do, I will be glad to see them and offer them an ice cold glass of sweet tea....that's what we do here under the Lone Star. So far now.......it's Adios, Au Revoir, Ciao, Adeus, Farvel, Zai Jian, Good Bye!

Sad State of Affairs......

It is a truly shocking state of affairs in my house. I am having to live a life of near silence in my own home. Startling isn't it? I'm sure you're questioning why? Or maybe not because you couldn't care less. If that's your attitude, dude, then just quit reading now. For my compassionate readers who are now sitting on the edge of their chairs waiting for me to go on........I shall continue. You see my ELLIPTICAL has returned from a 3 month stay in Costa Rica. I gave it an all expense paid trip so well......so I could live a carefree summer without guilt. After all, if it's not here, I CAN'T USE IT!! But...the fact is now that I can hear it calling my name through the door of the room where it resides. It's back, it has returned, my life is not worth living. So here is my theory. If I'm quiet...and for you who know me that is virtually impossible....but if I am, then the reality is, it doesn't really know if I'm here or not. Maybe it thinks I'm still on vacay. So I'm tiptoeing around on bare feet(gonna be a problem when it gets cold), whispering to my husband and pets. I'm just so glad that it's not sitting by a window where it can look out and see me drive in and out of the driveway. I don't know how long I can pull this off....I am terrified. The fact is I think everyday my name is called a little louder. Pretty soon my neighbors may hear it....and they live across two pastures from me. Not only is it getting louder, its tone of voice is changing.....more shrill, more demanding.....NOT GOOD! As you can tell, I'm living in a Stephen King book. I wonder when I can't stand it any longer, and I give in, if I'll open that door to Cujo or Carrie working out? My fate is in the hands of a rabid elliptical who is a prom queen.

Problem...

I have a problem. I hate to admit it. But I'm gonna. My love seat cushion is flattening. In one place. Where I sit. What can this mean? Well, I think it's obvious. Perhaps I sit there.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, more than I should. I mean it is seriously beginning to flatten. Yes Yes, I know, I could switch the two cushions, but I think that may be a little like cheating. Here's something even worse. I think maybe the size of the flattened place is growing. Can I be perfectly frank? If it IS growing, I think we all know what that means. I really feel compelled to get out the tape measure and measure it.....but then I might be so depressed that I never get up. Then the entire love seat might flatten....and I'd lose my job, then the house. At that point my BFF love seat and I would be sitting on the side of the road. Maybe Flat Stanley could join us, but that's beside the point. Well, I guess more like lying on the side of the road since I'm not sure if a flattened love seat could sit. Somehow that doesn't appeal to me. Would it you? So I'm trying to consider my options. Cheating, measuring, ignoring. Those are my three doors. I think I'll pick door number four.

People Peepers

I love to people watch. Do you? I mean I wish it was my full time job. I wonder if I could find a company who would pay me to just sit and watch people. Or maybe it could be an Olympic sport and I could Bring Home the Gold. This past weekend I went to Grapefest....a festival in Grapevine, Tx. People watching at it finest. 265,000 souls walk Main Street over a 4 day weekend. I know this because I counted. I'm lying. I know this because I read it on a brochure. I was only there for Saturday afternoon. But I didn't lack for PW. I have to Blog about PW every time I have such a fine opportunity. So here's the thing. Some people have no mirrors. Some people have no concept of age. Some people realllllllllllllllly need good haircuts....me included at this moment. Some people clearly don't care. In my mind I give different ones names and life scenarios. O......that must be a Whale Watcher. The one standing to the left of him probably is a Storm Chaser whose name is Max. Then the lady strolling over there with that huge purse.....she owns a clock repair shop. How do I know this? Well, she had on 4 watches and possibly she was delivering them or maybe was going to stop and have a glass of wine and fix them while she too PW'd. Sitting at one of the tables was an Impersonator........he was impersonating Peter Fonda in Easy Rider. Tall, lean,lanky with beyond faded jeans, a long ponytail and a beat up motorcycle hat on his knee. I nearly asked him for his autograph. Then there were the eaters......they were busily looking around while munching on corn dogs, fried snickers, fajitas or huge ears of corn. Hungry now? I loved the bored men who were sitting outside the shops while their wives were inside touching every item. They were clearly wondering about the condition of their wallets and wishing to heck they were in front of a TV with a good game entertaining them while their spouses drained their life savings in those cute shops. I could see their eyes shaped like disappearing dollar signs. Every once in awhile they would touch their pockets hoping against hope there was money growing inside. There wasn't....I know this. I could go on and on about PW. It is free entertainment. Good exercise for your brain and imagination. Sometimes painful on the eyes....but always a good time. Did I see you at Grapefest? If I did, you can be sure I rewrote your life.

Mothers and 9/11

Today marks the anniversary of a truly devastating day in the history of the United States of America. I can remember my instant gut reaction as I was listening to the story unfold. I knew EXACTLY where my children were. Two of them were within a hundred yards of me on the same high school campus. But as their a mother, my first instinct was to go touch them. And I did. It was as necessary as breathing. They were fine and I knew it, but the compulsion was too strong to ignore. The other two kids were not close enough to touch, but I called them within a few minutes. This is what we do as mothers. We protect, we touch, we scrutinize, we gather our children during a disaster. I remember looking into their eyes and listening to their voices with a very clear thought resounding in my head. "You have no idea how this morning changed your world." I grieved for them; I grieved for all of us. Our universe tilted on that day. So I write this blog with two thoughts in mind. Every day unfolds with miracles and magic. Be aware of that. Take nothing for granted. My second thought is the sadness I still feel....deep in my heart....for the mothers who lost their worlds that day. I understand that it's also the fathers, wives, children, brother, sisters and many many more who still suffer. But today, because I still remember my great need to see, touch and listen to.....I cry for the mothers.

Transposed.......

This morning I was making my way through this fine city when I happened to glance at the Sign/Board thing at the bank. It said 57*.......my first thought was.....they have transposed the numbers. It surely can't be that cool......gotta be 75*. Now why would I think this? Other than the obvious fact that it hasn't been that cool in 459 years. Because I think they make that transpose/wrong number mistake ALL THE TIME. I'm really sure that they get the numbers to my Account Balance off.....do they do that to you? I mean, I see my balance start with a 1.....surely that should start with another number....like maybe a 9? I'll even take an 8. So naturally, I assumed they had made another error this morning. It really was 75* and not 57*. Back to the sad state of my balance. They are always pretty adament about the fact that they are right and I'm wrong. Sigh..........and they are. Of course if I kept a really fine, up-to-date check register, I probably wouldn't be so surprised by these disappearing numbers.....but sadly, I don't. I want to....I really really do. I want to be that organized person that meticulously writes down every check and what it's for.....I want to proudly show my checkbook with no gaping holes. I'm not that girl. I'm more the keep it all in my head kinda person. My bank balance drifts along in my mind bouncing off the walls of the empty rooms......searching for some verification. I'm sure at times it hides underneath the fog that is usually somewhere up there......waiting to jump out at me and surprise me when it's not quite as TALL as I think it should be. My bank balance isn't my best friend. It sometimes drills holes in itself so it can drain out without me knowing it. I wonder if it's just mine that does that. I hope not. I don't want to think I have the only HATEFUL bank balance. AND the only bank that's always right while I'm always wrong. So if your bank transposes numbers like mine, cheer up. You have company. I feel your pain.

Today's Dilemma

I don't know about you...but the coat hangers in my closet have personalities. Those wire ones are nasty little buggers. They hang there so skinny and sharp. They put creases in my clothes. And then they wrap themselves around each other and sometimes refuse to come off the rack. They just become one tangled mess.....ON PURPOSE. Don't tell me you haven't experienced this. They are truly hard to get along with, kind of like the Grinch. I don't know if they're mad because they are skinny and hungry or if they're mad because all they do is hang around and are bored. But they aren't good friends. The plastic ones are easier to get along with....or at least mine are. They pretty much just stay the same day after day. They don't crease my clothes, nor do they coil around each other snickering because I can't get them off their wooden perch. But they are a little boring. They don't have much personality. At least they are easier to have around. I like them more. But my very favorites are the plump colorful ones. They are all different kinds of patterns. They love my clothes. They live to make my blouses and shirts and dresses drape just perfectly. They act like they are so happy to see me. They are very gentle souls. Just so merry and fun. So here's my dilemma......do I mingle the snarly wire ones with the jolly plump ones....hoping maybe there might be some positive influence happen? Or do I segregate them.....keeping my Happy Hangers safe? What a dilemma.

National Pastime..

It's time we have a chat.....it's something that needs to be addressed, confessed and well, acknowledged. Possibly you think our National Pastime is football. Nope. Baseball. Negative. It's SNACKING. Okay so now you're shaking your head trying to say I'm wrong. STOP IT!! You snack....you know you do. Yes, yes you do! America snacks. What's your poison? Mine is salty, savory,....popcorn, pretzels, chips, sinful. I'm not ashamed; I will not lie; I snack. Even more to the point I Saturday/Sunday' afternoon snack.......I wonder maybe if weekend snacks count less....after all you're not wasting your employer's time by snacking rather than working. So I think it stands to reason that you should be rewarded by fewer repercussions from snacking if you do it on Saturday or Sunday....unless of course you work those days.......then people, you're on your own. Don't count on fewer damages. The Snack Food industry in the good ole U S of A is huge. Gonna go out on a limb here and say it's bigger than the carrot, cabbage and celery industry combined. My mom always said that what you eat standing up has no calories...and she was a small woman. Maybe she was right...but here's the thing, I'm too lazy on the weekends to STAND UP to snack. Nope...I do my snacking on the couch, book in hand, chores ignored and happily munching and crunching and feeling no compulsion to move. Possibly a brief wisp of a thought slips through my mind of working on the Elliptical later....AS IF that thought would help these hips. I might think of starting a group meeting for Snackers......no, no, no....not to help quit...but to exchange favorite snacks. Much like a book club, we could all bring our snacks, STAND UP, and chat while we chew. Nice idea.......not only would the standing up process help, so would the use of calories moving our jaws while we chat. Indeed!! Who wants to join?

Wave Good-bye

Wave good-bye, stomp your feet, pitch a fit, scream and yell......all together now.....GO AWAY 105*+.......enough already. Here's my thing....105* in August is expected in Texas. We live through it...we swim, we sweat, we complain, we pay enormous cooling bills...but hey, it's August. All Righty Then...enough is enough. It's September...Mother Nature, are ya reading this blog? She's not listed as one of My Followers, but maybe she'll stumble across this and take pity on us. She's actually probably sitting on a mountain in Colorado.......enjoying a 55* day, reading a good book, on Facebook or tweeting away and totally unaware of the Hinges of H*&%#@LL that is Texas. But she should surely be aware that football season has started.....that signals.....coooooooooler weeeeeeeeeeather. School has started....she's not on my student list or we'd be learning how to say......Cool It Down Lady.....in Spanish....before my electricity bill becomes a debate between the Democrats and the Republicans because it has TOPPED the national debt. Seriously.

Dogs and Poop

Stay with me here.........I know when you live in the city in an apt., you have to attend to your dog's ..........droppings???? Now our country dogs live a different life style.....let 'em out......let 'em in. Don't be too grossed out...we have a big yard and a little dog...so we consider it free fertilizer. But, having been in the city with my daughter's dog Ellie for the better part of last week, I've learned the ABC'S of dogs in apartments. And I have to tell you.......guys and dolls.... you look a little silly standing there, leash in hand, watching your dog's hiney. No one on the planet loves dogs more than I do.....and I love it that my daughter lives in a really great dog friendly area....there are bloodhounds, bassets, labs and mixed breeds of all kinds in her complex. So I was able to observe many humans standing in the heat waiting for their dogs to do their 'bi'ness'. Hey, I WAS one of those humans. It is NOT ATTRACTIVE. Here's my advice......watch the planes, watch the birds, watch the cars, watch the pool guy....keep your eyes AWAY from your dog's rear end......and things that might come out of it. You can do it...you have peripheral vision.......God knew what He was doing when He gave it to you. USE IT!!! Do your duty....but please, o please, don't stare as if you're watching an Academy Award movie.....you're NOT!!