See what happens?

Anybody that reads this know I have some issues with  family boundaries-I whine when I get roped into something, and wallow in guilt when I don't jump fast enough. I have been working at putting the brakes on, because after all, for everyone one of my remaining kin, there is someone else with a closer relationship to them.

So. I managed to hold it to one stop at the drugstore in the past 8 days. Until today-a plea to stop by and "pick up something" from the aunt. I put my busy career woman face on, stopped by, and took possession of three pair (with tags) of
← those.
Donna is an average sized cat. Even she is appalled. I'm not saying my ass isn't larger than I'd like, but those are some serious granny panties. The aunt is 5"10 and maybe 135, so I don't know how she came upon these gems. They do have tags, and really are expensive, so the clothes locker gets them. A small part of me wants to keep at least one pair to calm the lecherous appliance repair guy the next time something breaks.

I'm calling spring

That's my first ladybug. I am declaring it springtime in my corner of the world. Now it will probably rain until June, but I have to consider my sanity.  I'm going to have to get one of those goofy umbrella hats and ignore any evidence that winter is still here.

I'm planning some raised beds along my fence-tomatoes worked well there last year and there's only so much you can do with 6 foot chain link. I'm excited, but slogging through the mud out back for the raw materials might temper that. I could buy the supplies, but that would a) cost too much b) be non-green (fuchsia?) and c) raise my blood pressure because the local Depot is quality challenged when it comes to wood. Measurements today, hopefully tomorrow more substantial progress.

Blue Monday at Happy Acres

This weekend was dedicated to family wrangling, and minor disasters. I've finally given in to self medication this evening. For the good of everyone, I'm doing M&M's. Being respectable can be boring. My stomach hurts.

I am  putting on a garage sale for my cousin. He will be of limited use, but he's going to have to pay some price for having a two story house, and using all three upstairs bedrooms as furniture storage. His late wife was a garage sale queen, and the poor guy feels bad for wanting stuff out of the house, but she didn't have a love for it, so why shouldn't he get the space, and a few bucks, too? This ought to be a good one-the best sales are where the owner doesn't have to whine about what they paid for it. He just wants it gone. She had excellent taste in collectible but not antique furniture,nice glassware, and kitchen ware. I could slap her(well I guess I can't now) for her size 2 clothes and size 4 shoes, but some tiny gal is going to make out like a bandit.

Liam and I went up the hills for a favorite cousin's birthday, and found out too late that the difficult aunt was coming. I figured that since they didn't ask me to bring her, she wasn't invited. Wrong. Favorite cousin brought her. We had a good time as always, and everyone took a turn sitting with her. Turns out she was pointing out a different person and accusing them of being drunk to each chattee. She is, as my ever-delicate father would say, a gold-plated feces stirrer.

I wrapped our package in some 50's vintage tissue paper, and when it got near the tea lights on the table we had some real fun. A fire under a ceiling fan is something to see. For future reference, those heavy hologram gift bags make great fire suppressors.

Since we had such a good time, it was only fair to take the difficult one home. At least I had the back seat and half a glass of wine in me. Poor Liam has taken the pledge and he got the craziness full force. I'm not feeling too bad because she's had me on the phone the past few nights. My ladies have always done this to me-it must be a family thing to suddenly get the phone urge at 8:00 or so. What did I do before computer card games?

Minor disaster One:satellite TV. On a ranch, it's a recipe for pain. Explaining to Liam, who has spent his entire adult life on a boat: I still  twitch.

Minor disaster Two:My washing machine has stopped working while filled with water and my clothes, the repairman is a lecherous and quickfooted 70 year old with a stash of working machines, and while I know I'll have a working machine by tomorrow night, my crazy jar is filled.

I need to work more

My better self can be a real pain at times. I try to keep it muzzled. It made me realize that while joining the Peace Corps might sound like a good thing, being decent and caring to my own family might be the the real leap of faith.

This is better in theory. Darren, the cop calling cousin, lost his wife a few months ago. I didn't know. She was a difficult woman, but we can never know another's demons. They should have had more of us around. So, I am trying to reach out and had him over today. This isn't a cakewalk. His chief interests are guns. He has a fabulous depth of knowledge and communicates it well. I love this stuff. He thinks I should be armored like a B movie moll, and that makes me twitch. He also misses his german shepherd dearly, so I let him go on (and on) as he hugged my big guy. The pain rolled from him. Terry was thrilled to be of help, but now he's worthless. (see above.)

Other things I've done this weekend :
1. Ate lethal pie. I was going to take a piece home, but no, I had to eat it in front of my 85 year old aunt. She didn't realize that her milk was bad until after she made the pie. She told me while I was eating the pie.
2. Watched Planet Doom 4 hours after eating the pie from hell. I did not love it, as I was promised I would.
3. Didn't slap the Cous for being absolutely nuts.
4. Didn't slap anyone.
5. Finished off the outbuilding from Thursday. Owwww.

Rural renewal

This had walls and windows when I started this morning.

Someone out there is a little off target

Welcome to the monkey house we're taking all our clothes off.

This is an actual search term that brought someone to my blog this month. I'm sorry, but I haven't put out any invitations like that. It's winter,fool.

White trash Wednesday

Okay, it's Tuesday, but that's part of the bit. Liam and I have over the years been interested (okay, obsessed) observers of the phenomenon. I'm not talking about the down home charm lovingly illustrated in the fine White Trash Cookbook. No, we're looking at a darker, more seedy area of human existence. And we're on guard to avoid any trappings of it. With decidedly mixed results, thanks to bad family brain chemistry, my indifference to things and housekeeping in general and his Conan-like whiteness.

But today we hit a new low. The cops came looking for Liam because his brother thought he might be in jeopardy. (Translation: brother wants money bad, and Liam makes good green when he works and gets military retirement,too.)Brother has no idea Liam's here because he has caused major pain to both of us and with our mothers gone, neither one of us have to make nice anymore to keep the Moms happy.

Imagine 2 middle aged folk, normally reasonably respectable looking but at home in the middle of the day for no good reason, who had been laughing hysterically for the past hour over hi-jinks of the same brother. You can't laugh until you cry without looking like you're stoned after a while. I would have paid to see the look on my face when the sweetfaced deputy asked for Liam, and I immediately blurted out,"What's he done now?"

"No,it's a family matter," and at that point, I was sure I was going to rot in hell.

"Is Darren OK?" Seems he is, and had exaggerated enough to spark a two jurisdiction search. Nice. I did the absolute lamest job of flirting to finish it off. I do like a uniform. She couldn't get out of here fast enough.

To finish up the caper, Darren won't answer the !@#$% phone.