Making Time For Thankfuls

I'm off on a weekend mini vacation with my family, but I'm making time for my Ten Things of Thankful, and here they are:

1. Dry cat food. 

2. Cats who eat dry cat food, so going off for a long weekend requires nothing more for them than extra dry cat food and extra water.

3. Cup holders in cars.

4. Cruise control, because the car we took this weekend doesn't have it (one day it worked, one day it didn't anymore), and I know it's a First World problem, but it makes my foot cramp to drive 8 hours without it.

5. Kids who are old enough to pack their own suitcases for a trip.

6. My pillows at home, because hotel pillows suck.

7. Lunch with my Person and both of our families.

8. Sno-cones on a hot day. 

9. Eating yourself silly while visiting all your favorite restaurants in a span of just two and a half days.

10. Going to the zoo.

Kangaroo equivalent of a spoiled house cat.

Look! It's a baby giraffe!

It's rather unlikely that I will hop around much this weekend, but know that I'm thankful for YOUR thankfuls and when you link up with us, which you can do right here.

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A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, The Meaning of Me, Thankful Me, Uncharted, The Wakefield Doctrine

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Step: A Six Sentence Story

"Watch your step," he said, steadying himself with the handle of the shovel he used as a walking stick and holding her elbow as he guided her through the stillness of the woods, thick with hickory and oak, with grapevines growing up from the brushy undergrowth and weaving a canopy from tree to tree, last fall's bed of oak leaves disguising the unevenness of the ground beneath them and crackling beneath their feet.

"Are you sure you saw mushrooms way back here?" she asked him, stumbling slightly in her impractical shoes. "And what's the hurry? You could have at least given me a chance to put on sneakers and get a bucket or something to carry mushrooms back to the house."

"See, right there!" he said to her, pointing to a spot near a pile of soft earth, and she bent to get a closer look, frowning slightly at the absurdity of him dragging her into the woods in her nice shoes to see some mushrooms that he very well could have brought back to the house to show her. 

The swish of the shovel broke through the quietness of the woods, and the impact that followed startled a few birds from their perch in the trees; after circling high above the spot where she lay, they settled back down onto their branches and watched, uninterested, as he carefully and thoughtfully moved the soft pile of earth, covering the impractical shoes last. 

Linking up with Ivy at Uncharted for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "step."

Wordless Wednesday 7.29.15

Thankful For Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer

When did summers go from being lazy and carefree to being insanely busy? It's been good kinds of busy, but a whirlwind, nonetheless, yet leaves room for many thankfuls. Here they are:

1. My daughter had team volleyball camp at Missouri State this week. It's really a gargantuan volleyball tournament, with teams from public and private schools all over the state (states, actually, since Arkansas was represented as well). They didn't always win, but they played hard and grew as a team.

Okay, the only picture I took all week of volleyball and it's
(a) blurry; (b) has Coach Travis's shoulder in it and (c) although
she was standing when I started to snap the picture, by the time
the picture took, she had sprawled on the floor to get a pass.
She missed....

Varsity girls are silly girls.

2. I stayed at the lake house while Emma was at volleyball camp. It was only a half hour away and I could run up there and watch a few games every day.

3. I stayed at the lake house ALONE. ALL BY MYSELF. No one else there to ask me about food or tell me they're bored or fight over the tv or come in and change the channel when I'm watching something and no one drank out of my glass except for ME.

4. I stayed at the lake house all by myself and only got a little bit scared one time.

5. Thankful for my Shark Navigator. I love that vacuum cleaner! 

6. There were some mystery stains on the carpet in the hallway at the lake house, and I got them out with only vinegar and baking soda. Pinterest win!

7. My kitties missed me while I was gone! Best part was when Fletcher wanted to sit in my lap, which was already occupied by Ruby. She grabbed his feet and tried to bite them, but he ignored her for the first time in EVER and sat anyway. ON HER HEAD. It was pretty funny, as she was rendered immobile for a minute before she got over the shock of having a 15 pound cat sitting on her head and got up.

A very determined Fletcher sitting on Ruby's head.

Close up of Ruby with Fletcher's ass planted on her head.

8. I GOT A MICROWAVE THIS WEEK! My microwave (the installed, over the range kind, not a counter top style) died towards the end of April, and I know this is a First World problem, and I know my mom and others before her heated up leftovers without one, but I NEVER HAVE BEFORE, and it's realllly harrrrrd! My mother in law finally felt sorry for me and bought me a new one.

9. The last one was worth two: one for the microwave, one for the mother in law.

10. Going back to the lake house this weekend and spend a lot of time at White Water, a pretty nice water park there. Fridays and Saturdays, they are open until 10 p.m., so we head over there around 5 or 6 and spend several hours cooling off without worrying about sunburns and excessive heat.

I'm going to spend the weekend soaking up summer and pretending it doesn't feel like a blast furnace outside. (Bonus thankful: my hair is easy to fix this time of year, as there's no fighting the curls with a straightening iron when it's this hot and humid outside.) Join our link up. Not a blogger? Click on any of the links below and read thankfuls from a variety of bloggers in a variety of styles.

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A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, The Meaning of Me, Thankful Me, Uncharted, The Wakefield Doctrine

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Trunk, Version 2: A Six Sentence Story

"Don't be late to pick me up," he teased, since the first time he came to visit she was, indeed, late to pick him up at the airport, and she assured him she would be waiting at the gate as he walked off the plane.

He was flying in on the red eye, and the plan was that after she picked him up, they would make the nine hour drive to their hometowns to meet each other's parents; in preparation for this, she took her little two-door car for an oil change, then, because it was unseasonably warm, she decided to get the car washed as well.

Overnight, however, the spring-like weather was replaced with arctic cold, and when she went out to the car at daybreak to head to the airport, she found that water from the car wash had seeped around the gaskets in the doors and they were all frozen shut. 

She cried first, because the minutes were ticking away and she was most definitely going to be late to pick him up at the airport, and then she had a brainstorm and tried the trunk, which opened with a slight crackle of ice breaking. The trunk was tiny and she was tall, but she crawled in on her hands and knees, turned over onto her back, and wiggled like a cockroach into the trunk, pressing the lever that lowered the back of the back seat flat, rolled into the car, crawled between the bucket seats and gear shift and into the driver's seat, where she started the car and took off for the airport.

In spite of her being late once again, pulling up at baggage claim to find him standing patiently, his luggage at his feet, shaking his head and smiling as she walked towards him, tears flowing, babbling about frozen doors and trunks, he knew that this blubbering mess was HIS mess, and he needed to spend the rest of his life with her.

Linking up with Ivy at Uncharted for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "trunk."

Trunk, Version 1: A Six Sentence Story

It was part of his job to keep the fleet clean, washing the outside and vacuuming the inside of each vehicle before every funeral, so after washing the outside of the hearse, he opened the back door, climbed in on his hands and knees, and was picking up some dead leaves from a previous casket spray when the heavy door fell shut. 

There is no handle on the inside of the door in the cargo area of a hearse, as the usual occupants are in no condition to need one, and he was in a panic, as he was not only alone in the basement, he was also the only one in the entire funeral home; it was after normal business hours, and he was responsible for answering the phone if a death call came in.

Beads of sweat began popping out on his forehead, and he wondered how in the HELL he was going to get himself out of this predicament when he saw that the sliding window separating the front seat from the cargo area was slightly ajar. He worked the window open as far as it would go.

He was not a small man, but he was a desperate man. He worked and maneuvered and squeezed until he was finally delivered into the front seat of the hearse, dripping with sweat and panting, but free.

Linking up with Ivy at Uncharted for Six Sentence Stories with the prompt "trunk."

Golf Stinks And So Do Buffalo

My husband works as a fundraiser, and when he has a special event, he recruits as volunteers the three of us who live under his roof (he bribes us with promises of food, usually, and we fall for it every time).

This past weekend, he was in charge of a benefit golf tournament. We were conned into helping him not only with the promise of food, but with the promise that we'd get to drive golf carts around the course.

Sucker born every minute, right?

Here's what I've come away with from our two blistering hot days on the golf course:

I hate golf, but I love golf carts.

The tournament was held at a very upscale golf course. Part of the course was landscaped with creeks and waterfalls, all of which you would swear occurred naturally and all of which were man-made. The other part of the course was made to look like prairie, complete with buffalo, which is oddly interesting, since the course was built on high ground in the Ozark Mountains and nowhere near where buffalo once roamed on open prairie.

Fake.

Faaaake.

Real turkey.

The buffalo are segregated from the golfers. Pretty sure from two days of observing them that this is not for the buffalo's protection. The fencing around their share of the course was made from timbers, close to 6 feet tall and double thickness, and included an electric fence strung up adjacent to the wooden fence. You might look at that and think "suspenders AND a belt," but five minutes of buffalo watching will tell you that may not be enough fencing.

In the morning, some guy drives out to the top of a ridge in a Gator and puts feed in several troughs located there. As soon as the buffalo see that truck, they come a-running. 

There is a frightening similarity to a running buffalo and a running 25+ pound cat.

Buffalo are basically assholes. When they are eating at the trough, they push each other around and chase each other away, including pushing the babies away from the trough. When they aren't eating and biting each other, they are plotting how to start a stampede and kill all the humans (except maybe sparing the guy in the Gator).

You know how baby animals are always so cute? Not true with buffalo.

Not even so ugly it's cute. Just ugly.

They grunt like pigs, although any other comparison of a buffalo to a pig would be insulting to the pig.

Okay, one more comparison to a pig: buffalo smell much, much worse than pigs. My nose has now had experience with both

In spite of their bulk, they have rather dainty ankles and feet.

I found myself fascinated by them nonetheless, and made it my project to get one to come to the fence so I could feed him a pie.

These are surprisingly delicious.

Unlike a Dillon, buffalo cannot be bribed with pie.

The face of someone who spent two days
trying to get a buffalo to come get a pie.

The temperature was already 90 degrees as the golfers were arriving. When one of the golfers opined that he might melt out there, I told him the grounds keepers scoop up any golfer who collapses on the course and feed them to the buffalo. He thought that was so funny that he stole my line and used it on his golf partner without giving me any credit.  

The current trend in golfing is for men to dress like Easter eggs.

Golfers would much rather see the cheer cart with the beer on it than the golf cart with water and Gatorade, even if you also have pie.

These bottles on the side of a golf cart are not urinals.

Guys, don't pee in these. They're for
pouring sand into divots.

My kids drive golf carts like they're on a NASCAR track.

Emma driving another volunteer around.

No, I do NOT want to see how you can drive the
entire course only using the brake twice.

There is a thing called "skins" when playing golf, and it has nothing to do with playing without your shirt. Won't make THAT mistake again.

There was a report of a 6 foot blacksnake on the rocks around a tunnel under the road, but thank you, baby Jesus, we didn't see it.

The tunnel plus a considerable portion of the inside
of the golf cart. Trying to get a picture before
Mario Andretti roared on through it.

The weekend confirmed that I am not outdoorsy. Anyone surprised?