My husband has commented to my blog a total of two times –anonymously– since I gave him “permission” to read it, which was over six months AFTER I began writing. Until that time, I wrote in complete obscurity. I always wrote as if I were being read, but no one had my URL (except for Blogger bloggers who hit the scroll when I updated, clearly, an accident). I think I lurked around the blogosphere, lacking confidence to throw in my two cents anywhere, but honestly, it’s hard to remember now. The first comment I ever received was from an Irish blogger, which I thought was pretty cool. Still do.
I know he reads me and he’s tried to post a few more times, but that pesky word verification sends him back into hiding, scampering for cover. Word verifications can be vewry scawry for blogger neophytes that way. I’ve removed it a few times, but every time I do THAT, vewry scawry comments find their way to the ol’ Pensieve, so, I’d rather do without a few comments then invite spammers.
The other thing I know about my husband is he bores easily when it comes to reading. If he sees a long post, he moves along. So, you see? I’m trying to make this post long before I get to the point of it, in the hopes that he’ll stop before he finds out what I’ve been up to since he’s been gone. Conniving, aren’t I?
#1) I stay up waaaaay too late. This makes perfect sense: I’ll be so dead-dog- tired when finally snuggling under the covers, when the robbers and axe murderers break in, I’ll be house-ransacked, broke and dead before I know what hit me. Relatively painless. That is, if they get past our trained pet rottweiller, MaimMe, video surveillance, and the .45 parked by my bed. Did I mention before kids I worked as a police officer and was repeatedly recognized for my razor-sharp reflexes and shooting skill? Nothing left of the bullseye when my smokin’ pistol twirled back into its holster.
#2) I seem to blog more…writing, not reading. Must be tied to #1 somehow.
#3) I create MORE work by cleaning my house. In all things related to weather, it’s the “calm before the storm”; in all things related to my housekeeping skills–which are quite the opposite of my firearm skills–it’s the “storm before the calm”. It gets worse before it gets better. Don’t believe me? Take a look.
These are most of the bags and boxes our Christmas decorations are stored in. This is what you might call a “staging” area. In about an hour, all of this junk will be tucked away in the attic, and Tad will never know it sat here for two days. It doesn’t bother me a bit, nor the children, but the cat is getting kind of twitchy. She naps on this sofa. But don’t tell Tad. (She’s was behind the big red bag on the right when I snapped this shot.)Our upstairs is not decorated, except for Stephen’s room…he has a two-foot Christmas tree and various Christmas statues. I love this about him.
Next, this basket of laundry has sat here since Monday as well. Apparently we have enough clean underwear and towels without putting it away. That will be done after the above-mentioned boxes are in the attic. The way I see it, at least the laundry is FOLDED! At least it hasn’t sat in the dryer–or heaven forbid, the washer, cultivating a nice mildew crop!
I saved the best/worst for last–a picture of pictures. THIS is where I got bogged down. THIS little exercise sucked more time than me blogging.
Why? you ask. Because I’m looking for a specific picture, no, make that two pictures. And can’t find them. BECAUSE ALL MY PICTURES ARE IN BOXES INSTEAD OF PHOTO ALBUMS OR SCRAPBOOKS BECAUSE I WAS BORN WITHOUT THE GENE THAT COMPELS ME TO ORGANIZE THEM NEATLY, ORDERLY AND IN A MANNER WHICH NOT ONLY RECORDS HISTORY, BUT ALLOWS ME TO FIND WHAT I’M FREAKIN’ LOOKING FOR IN MINUTES, NOT HOURS…OR DAYS…OR NEVAH! I was BORN with this affliction. It most certainly is NOT my fault!
Whew! Give the girl some more COFFEE! She’s twitchier than the cat!!
I did not find the pictures; if/when I do, they will be blogged, and as you know, linked back to this post. I hope I can find them, although it’s probably “better” in my memory than it is in actuality. Whatever, it’ll make some fun stories to write. The John-Lennon-look-alike pic perhaps less so than the painted-up-hussy one.
The GOOD thing, for me, is I found some fabuloso material for future posts. In fact, I’m gonna go take care of those boxes and laundry, and possibly write some more today.
Because, tonight Tad comes home. And I’ll get back to “normal”. And not blog binge…or stay up so late…or “clean” like a tornado;) (for you, Pete)(CLARIFICATION: I am NOT cleaning for Willowtree, the reference to “cleaning like a tornado” was a nod to an earlier
rant post of his this week!!!!). I’ll stop being so self absorbed in writing and actually read some! (And for the record, I haven’t been able to post comments to Beta bloggers–not for lack of trying and then trying again–so I finally gave up reading anybody! Too durn frustrating.)
If I’m lucky, Tad glazed over after reading the first two paragraphs and he’ll never know that a train’s been through our house :).
OH my ! You scared me. When I first saw the pics, I thought you had been in my house without me knowing it. So, you’re going to be back to “mornal” when? theHansMan has posted a couple of times on my blog. It’s scary. Sometimes, he just picks up the phone and calls. Lately, BoogerGlobber has made me try the WV box 3 times and I know I got it right the first 2 times.
Wow. Sounds like somebody needs a lullaby.
Lullaby, and good night. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da.
If I only knew the words…
IF I took pictures of my messes they would look 3 TIMES as worse as what you’ve got posted.
When the cat (hubby) is away, the mice (wife) play (blog).
November pretty much sucked at my house – Instead of cleaning, I either wrote my book or blogged. So, now I am trying desperately to do catch-up on EVERYTHING. (you know, even clean out the crumbs from the kitchen drawers).
It better be fixed before I get home. And who is this Pete you mentioned?
Damnation…! so the man decides how TODAY to get through word verification??? Ai yi yi…….tick tock!
Ok, I was sooo flustered when I saw TAD’S comment–NOT EVEN FRIGGIN’ ANONYMOUS–I forgot to read my buddies. My bad.
Swampy, of course normal (or mornal) is a relative term ;).
Heather……getting……..very……..sleepy (you hum so well!) :).
Karmyn–I LOVE YA GIRLIE-q–GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE (what you wrote was the original title of this post 😀 ).
I think I also lack that organizational gene…I love to take pictures (uh,duh!) but I end up with boxes of photographs in completely random order. sigh…I would love to hire a professional organizer one day, but then I’m scared that I would never find anything!
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
If I was profane and prone to telling people where to go, I’d be doing that right now. I shoulda known…Tad couldn’t leave a comment while he was in a conference all day…it was just WT, yanking my chain (I might noT be saying anything, but I’m thinking very ugly thoughts right now). Funny boy, he is.
Claudia, I still couldn’t post to Beta blogs earlier today…I’ll try again later :(. I think some people are just BORN with that ability, and others…like me and you, kid…are not.
I was behind in the house cleaning before I got pregnant. My excuse was my career.
I got behind-er when I was pregnant. My excuse was I was on bedrest.
I am WAY behind-er now. My excuse is that now I have a baby.
I now realize, thanks to you, that what I have is a genetic disorder and I need no excuses for I am not to blame. Thank you.
Oh, and I don’t know what “Pete” commented (got here late), but I can totally insult his genitals again if you want me to. In support of the Sistah-hood!
Hey Stephanie, I bet you can ;)…I’ve seen you in action, girlie-q, and you can hang with the best of ’em.
I’m just trying to provide a public service here, blaming genetics for my deficiencies…it works for everyone and everything else :/. (just so y’all know, I realize I’m totally to blame, but lemme shirk my responsibility for five minutes)
If you have a baby, you HAVE an excuse!!!!!!!…mine are waaaaaaayyy too old for it to count for me anymore :/.
Peter impersonated my husband and I soooo fell for it (more ugly thoughts cause I was PUNKED on my own blog!!!)
Hey, my wv is cobrla, sounds like cobra, which fits, cuz the man from oz is a SNAKE!
Oww, my sides hurt from laughing so much!
Is it just me, or am really that funny…
LOL….oh, Robin he got you!! hehehehe…
ino, claudia, ino :/ … on my own flippin’ blog, too………………
please tell me all that crap will be picked up when I get home….miss you sweets
btw – hailey has gas and janice had to tell me how to post to this thing
Now THAT sounds more like you :)!!! No way I’m gonna get punk’d again, I’ll verify my commentors. I’m ready for you to come home, too, tonight the kids asked “Are you okay, Mom?”. Think I might’ve been a bit…twitchy…with them. For some reason they were L O U D tonight. Kiss Roxie, pass on Hailey, and hug my favoritist-youngest s-i-l. Heeeeyyyy, wait a second…if she told YOU how to post, WHY THE HECK DIDN’T SHE???? Smack her instead. And MJ? Tell him his favorite s-i-l is waiting with baited breath for another visit.
And, btw…done and done ;).
Oh, there’s a COUCH in that room?
Oh man, you would die if you saw my messes.
I can’t clean house without making a mess.
I can’t cook and clean up after myself.
I can’t garden without having weeds and knee prints scattered everywhere.
It’s just not in me to be tidy.
For all of those reasons I have been neglecting my blog reading lately. I had let so much slide around here that it could no longer be ignored. I missed everyone.. but I needed some time.
I’m going to try to be a bit more faithful.. I pwomise.
Uh, that’s “dead-blog tired.”
I have the same affliction;)
Too funny, LOL!
You were a cop?!? But a .45? Sheesh! I wish you could talk to a significant other of mine. I’d love to get another HK .40. These days I’m trying to sweet talk her into just letting me have a shotgun or a high powered pellet rifle. Seriously!
And I could never get upset for a mess. I’m notorious for leaving “my” area in disarray 😉
Have you lost control over here?
First of all, let me assure you that 99% of us have our photos in boxes and not albums.
My first blogger comment was from an Irishman, too. he was living in L.A. and became my first blog buddy. We were friends, I made him a teacup, he sent me music CDS. Now he’s gone because of personal stuff in his life and I miss him.