Some Clouds Are All Silver, Not Just The Lining

Why am I happy today?  I'll tell you why--the light bulb in my microwave burned out.

Now, I know you're thinking I'm being sarcastic, but I'm not.  Yes, a replacement bulb is sure to be some outrageous amount, but I'm not going to buy one.  Why?  Because now it's much harder to see just how dirty my microwave is.

That is all.

Hemi

Several months ago, someone broke into our house while my toddler and I were home alone.  Jake and Kellin didn't even twitch, they were both so deaf.  It scared me badly enough that we adopted Hemi.

Hemi's previous owners were very sad to let him go, but they had a cruel neighbor that was constantly harassing Hemi.  He weighed 125 pounds and was a big boy.

Only a few days after we brought Hemi home, he went stir crazy so I let him into the front yard.  He was running laps, full tilt, when my daughter stepped out in front of him.  He bowled over her, knocking her end over end across our sidewalk and lawn.  It was a horrifying thing to watch.  We were nervous about keeping him, after that, but we are so glad we did.

Hemi was the biggest softy you could ever hope to meet, but he looked terrifying.  One day, a mom, grandma, and grandson were walking past our house.  Hemi jumped up on our fence; his weight jarred the latch on the gate open, so Hemi ran out of the yard to go and tell them, "Hi."  The grandma started beating the crap out of him--he was running in circles, she was chasing him, and I was barreling out of the house.  By the time I got my doors unlocked, he had escaped into the yard and the three people were literally running down the street.  Hemi was on the ground, shaking, and he peed everywhere.  I yelled, "Sorry!" after the people, but I really wanted to yell, "Quit beating on my poor rottweiler, you jerk!"  I called Steve at work and warned him that someone would probably call the sheriff's office and report a vicious dog; they never did, thankfully.  I would have ripped their heads off.

We only had Hemi six months when, one Sunday, he started whining and not wanting to get off the couch.  We put a heat pad on his back, assuming he had slipped on the ice in our front yard and pulled a muscle.  The next morning, he wouldn't get off the dog bed in our bedroom.  I threaded a towel under his waist and lifted his back end, thinking it just hurt too much for him to stand; his legs just dangled beneath him.  I took him in to the vet later that day, thinking still that he'd hurt his back; we'd put him on Rimadyl and give him cortisone shots for the rest of his life--expensive, but nothing new in our world.  Our vet informed us that he had slipped a disc in his spine and damage his spinal cord, paralyzing himself.  She would pinch his back feet, and he couldn't feel anything; she called this having no withdrawal and informed us that, even with intensive surgery, there was no hope of him ever walking again.  We had to put him to sleep.

I still vacillate between anger and disbelief that this all happened.  Really?  He paralyzed himself?  I still wonder why God told us to get Hemi when we only got him for six months; I'll probably never understand.  I'm still glad we had him, in spite of the pain.

Things I Wish I Knew Forever Ago

1. Paying for satellite/cable TV is a complete waste.  We got rid of Dish Network and went solely to Netflix, and everything is so much better!  We get to laugh like crazy when Dish sends us junk mail saying we're paying too much for TV.  We don't argue over someone taking up more than their fair share of space on the DVR.  There's all sorts of fabulous Australian shows on Netflix that Dish doesn't carry.  And, because there's so much control on Netflix, we're protected from random nakedness (most of the time).  Yay, Netflix!
2. Grilled cheese sandwiches.  Ah, the bliss.  First of all, if you're going to make a grilled cheese, you've gotta have a huge slice of cheese...and it never melts before the bread burns.  Enter, aluminum foil!  Just set a piece over the top of the sandwich, and it not only cooks faster, the cheese is always perfectly gooey (and I'm particular about my gooey cheese).  On top of that, a brilliant woman showed me that you don't need to dirty a knife to cut the sandwiches--use a spatula, and it's quick, easy, and there's no slippage of the bread.  Brilliant!
3. I can't keep flies out of my house in the summer, and my cats are too old to catch them anymore.  I got desperate enough to hang a gallon bag of water over my door, in spite of looking like an idiot.  People, it works.  I don't know why, but it does.  Let people laugh--I have no flies. :P
4. When your dishwasher gets all scummy and nasty, just put some Tang in the soap dispenser and run a full cycle through it.  Your dishwasher will be scrubbed sparkling clean, and you'll never drink Tang again.  Unless you're doing some weird kind of cleanse.
5. Wrap fresh broccoli in aluminum foil before refrigerating.  The junk goes so limp and gross in a day or two, but aluminum foil keeps it crisp.  Who knew?

2014

So, because I'm completely disorganized since Chemistry rotted my brain (I passed by a miracle, BTW), I don't have a 2014 calendar.  And because I need so desperately to record when Bountiful Baskets occurs, I made my own (for January, at least).  Enjoy.

January 2014

			1 New Year's Day	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20 Martin Luther King Jr. Day	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30	31

A Truly Blue Journey

My husband and I are obsessed with the games you can download from the Wii Virtual Console.  He has beaten the original Mario Bros (the princess looks like a guy, BTW), and we played Mario Party until we were blue in the face.  Mario Kart 64 still holds joy for us, especially when we bet chores on the outcome (Steve has cooked a lot more). However, I felt the need for something new.  Welcome to...

The reviews were good, the graphics cute, and the fact that there are unlimited continues seemed great for a person like me that's eye-had-coordinationally challenged.  

I mean, you get to beat people with leaves!  It's gotta rock, right?

Yeah, not so much.

The unlimited continues are constant throughout the game, never making you start over--ever.  Which means that we beat the entire game in 40 minutes.

And, as Steve so eloquently put it, "I want those 40 minutes of my life back."

I've been trying and trying to justify spending $9 on this, and the best I could come up with is that it'd be fun for kids to play, because you can never die.

Oh, wait, that doesn't work, either, because it's just frustrating enough, in spite of being immortal, to shrug off almost any child, of any age.  We wouldn't have finished the game if we hadn't been desperate.

Starting to think I should have bought 

Why MacGyver is the Perfect Man

I'll admit it, I was a MacGyver snob the first time I watched it.
By the second time, I was hooked.

Reasons Why MacGyver is Perfect
1. He can rock a mullet and hightops while still feeling good about himself
2. He's a vegetarian
3. He has a basketball hoop in his living room
4. He lives on the beach
5. He can fix anything with duct tape and candy bars, so there'd be lots of extra money
6. He could tutor me in chemistry

Because chemistry is why I am not posting.
Chemistry is evil.
And math filled.
But mainly frustrating.

Depressing Crap-ito

So, my blog is filled with nothing but doom and gloom lately.  Rest assured, strange readers, I will return to random crap...after this post.

I've got an idea.  Let's write this like a fairy tale.  Maybe then it will suck less.

Once upon a time there was a very strange blogger who adopted the world's most beautiful little girl.  Two years later, the birth mother contacted said blogger and asked if she'd like to travel to the land of Adoption once more and welcome into the royal blogger family another beautiful child.

Bliss filled the kingdom as rapid fire arrangements were made, from ordering cribs and swings, to hiring more than one lawyer.  However, the evil State Law intervened and required a home study, a grueling gauntlet that requires a minimum of six months, and from which few exit alive.  The royal family steadied themselves for the ordeal, determined to wait Heavenly Father's will and plan.

The birth mother contacted the kingdom once more, saying that things were far too difficult for her to keep the soon-to-be prince, and begging the royal family to take temporary custody of him so that her suffering could be shortened.  The royal family contacted another lawyer, had paperwork amounting to $3,500.00 drawn up, and rushed to the magical airport, a mere four hours away, to pick up their child.

Unfortunately, the king and queen needed to work on their communication skills.  Before the birth mother signed the temporary custody paperwork, the king and queen assured her that she mattered, and that if she needed to keep the prince-to-be, they would understand.  She reassured them vehemently that this was what needed to happen, and that if she kept the boy she would be forced to return to a situation that she knew was bad for both of them.  After spending time with the birth mother's sister and grandmother, the royal family returned home, exhausted but excited to start this new phase.

Three days later, the birth mother texted that she wanted the little prince back.  Then she proceeded to get rude, making demands that the king and queen drive ten hours to an airport and meet her there at whatever time she chose to give the baby back.  The king called her and asked what was going on.  The birth mother had returned to living with the White Supremacist that was old enough to be her dad.  She told the king that she had no high school diploma, no job, no way to provide for the little prince, and she didn't know what she was going to do in a month when things with the White Supremacist went bad again.

The laws of the land did nothing to protect the king and queen, so the king told the birth mother that she could come get the baby, but it needed to be within 24 hours.  She said that she and the White Supremacist would be there the next day.  She had already told the king that they could not afford to fly, so he asked if they were planning to drive.  She said yes, and since the distance was at least 1,500 miles, the king told her they wouldn't be able to make it in a day and that the king and queen, who did nothing but cry, would have to turn the little prince over to CPS until she could come get him.  She agreed.

CPS took the little prince, and called the birth mother with information about how to claim her child.  The birth mother then started spam texting the king and queen's phones until the queen had to change her number and the king had to block her calls.  She then started harassing the king and queen's lawyer, then called the king's place of business and filed a false police report, stating that the king and queen had kidnapped her child.

The End

Okay, for some randomness.  I've never understood why someone would think that being white is so awesome.  Don't get me wrong, I'm white, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it, but I've always felt like being white just meant that any uniqueness got bleached from the family lines over the generations and I'm just kind of an "Other" when it comes to having a race or identity.  Heck, even Jesus wasn't white.  It's just a catch all category for the left overs.
Plus, I think it's funny if people say I'm a cracker.  I like crackers.