Yep, we're getting hitched tomorrow at the Magistrate's office. The Boy will finally be legitimate, bless his little bastard heart. No Church, flowers or frilly dresses, just the immediate family in a small room at the Courthouse with the Justice of the Peace. Not exactly the most romantic event, eh?
But you know what? I can't wait!
The SO took The Starlet fishing for catfish. She was VERY gung-ho about it all until she started catching the actual fish; then.....not so much. Notice how she's holding the fish as far away from her as possible, by her fingertips?
The problem started when she named the first fish "Bubbles". Daddy told her you never name what you're gonna eat (an old Southern motto) but the damage was already done. By the time they had reached their limit of 12 fish, she was no longer quite as excited by the whole idea. And she was pretty appalled that Daddy made her help him unstring the fish off the line and get them ready to be cleaned. I mean, that involves, like, maybe touching them or something? Ewwwww, like that's sooooo gross.
I am happy to say Grandma, like the good redneck old lady that she is, had those babies fried up and on the table in no time, whilst The SO made slaw and hushpuppies to boot. Mmm-mmm good!
Of course, we had to make The Starlet gag one down, which she did with a look of grim determination on her face, while The Teenager gaily announced that she had picked out "Bubbles" to eat, declared that she was sharing "Bubbles" with The Boy (who kept shouting "more!"), and gave a running commentary on how tasty he was until there was nothing left but bones. Aren't siblings great? Cue a heated discussion about the ethics of killing animals to eat, ending with me threatening to make them eat Tofu every day, which kind of takes the shine off such a great meal, but I enjoyed it nonetheless!
Our next door neighbors, who pretty much disliked us the entire time we had a blue tarp on our roof, have done a total 180 since we finished up the house renovations. As I mentioned earlier, they have taken to bringing over huge bags of their home-grown tomatoes every other day or so. Okay, I'm getting sick of tomato sandwiches now. There, I said it. But still, better than the cold shoulder we used to get, I suppose.
Unfortunately, our neighbors on the other side of us have sold their house, as all their kids are in college now and they are downsizing. They were great; very friendly, someone you could get help from in a pinch, yet didn't want to really socialize too much. They were perfect. Mom stopped and chatted with them today at the yard sale they were having (I thought they could have given us a heads-up on their wicker porch furniture, but noooo it was already sold) and it seems that the people who bought the house are, and I quote, "Yankees from Connecticut" who tried to "nickel and dime" them on the price. Good lord, we have Northerners moving in next door! I hope they don't try any kind of that funny foreign stuff with us.
I ran over a baby squirrel today on the way to work, which is always a pleasant way to start the day. I'm telling you, the amount of dead animals you see on the side of the road around here is mind-boggling. And no, it wasn't me that smooshed them all.
Just in the general vicinity of my little town, I have noticed dead dogs, cats, raccoons, possums, deer, foxes, chickens, squirrels, turtles, beavers, birds, a pig and once, I-swear-to-God, a big black bear cub. You become immune to it after a while, but when I first came back here from the UK I had a bit of trouble taking in all the carnage. In England you might see a dead hedgehog on the odd occasion, but they probably keeled over from some old lady overfeeding them.
Although, now that I think about it, when I married The Wanker in Yorkshire, a guest hit a huge pheasant on the way to the reception and very kindly brought it with him as an extra "gift". He was a bit of a toff and didn't like to see such good meat go to waste. And people make fun of rednecks....
Pearl the terrifying toddler is retiring it seems .... catch her final performance in Good Cop, Baby Cop. As usual, probably NSFW. Will catch up with ya'll tomorrow, I am in the grip the last Harry Potter book. It's a cracker so far!
I love the English language. It's the most expressive and fluid language in the world, constantly evolving. Although we think when we study English grammar that it is full of complicated "rules", it's actually pretty loose compared to say, French or Chinese. Or Icelandic. I mean, have you ever tried to fathom out what Bjork is saying?
However, it's estimated* that most people only have a working vocabulary of less than 2000 words from a rich language that offers over 500,000 to choose from. And these days it seems that most of those are cliches.
So I was delighted to come across a book called She Literally Exploded: The "Daily Telegraph" Infuriating Phrasebook. They asked their readers in the UK to send in their most hated phrases and words that abound in our culture today, and there are some doozies!
Those listed at the top include, "inappropriate", "escalate", "legend", "hero", "challenged", "take care", "confirmed", "ground-breaking", "moving on", "tipping point", "let's do lunch", "basically", "issues", "leverage", "24/7", "societal", "absolutely", "amazing" and the word "client" when referring to customers, patients or inmates.
People also appear to detest restaurant jargon. "Pan-fried" (what else will you fry in? a shoe?) "oven-baked" (ditto) , "au jus" (gravy), "coulis" (sauce) and "freshly-picked" (as opposed to what?) all make the cut.
They also included a few of my own pet peeves - "facilitate", "rigorous", "core competencies" "cohorts" and "methodologies". These crop up a lot in Educational Theory and make me want to scream when I have to read them. I adored this real example of a job advertisement listing: "Proactive, self-starting facilitator required to empower cohorts of students and enable them to access the curriculum." See?? See what I mean??????? Just gouge my eyes out with a spoon, thanks.
According to the book, the most hated phrase was "at the end of the day" and the most hated word is "like", followed by "whatever". I agree wholeheartedly!
If you've ever lived with a teenager and had the privilege of listening to them talk, you will understand the murderous rage that can overcome one in a split second when you overhear a snippet such as; "She was, like, in the pool, right? And, like, she dived in and her top, like, came off! And she was like, what? And we were, like, laughing, and she was like, whatever, and we were like, whatever".
Sadly, they didn't address the phenomenon of people who obliviously mispronounce words. I have a friend of twenty-odd years who consistently says "pacific" instead of "specific", as in, "I pacifically told him not to do that". She has done this since the day we met. It is a mark of our friendship that I haven't snapped her neck.
Maybe I should write a book .....
**I read this fact somewhere recently but can't be bothered to go and find out where. But it's true!! I swear on the interwebs!
There comes a time in a woman's life when she has to decide how to deal with the aging process. She can either fight it ferociously, getting nipped/tucked, bleached and plucked, or she can just accept it gracefully and think about more important things like, I dunno, drinking.
I have chosen the latter course. Not for me to be one of those ladies whose face looks like they're trapped in a wind tunnel. Nor do I want to be one of those ladies who look like a petite young bottle-blond from the back - then they turn around and they're seventy years old if they're a day, and scare the bejeesus out of the horses.
Since I've been working with my friend Lisa in her glass studio, most of the time I'm covered in muck or burnt, my fingernails have been ground down to the quick by the diamond saw I use to cut beads, and my cuticles are permanently black from the coolant. I wear ratty old t-shirts and baggy sweatpants, and my hair is covered in glass dust. But don't get me wrong, I still like to dress up on the odd occasion, put on some makeup, shave my legs. I think I still scrub up pretty well, all in all.
But the older I get, the less I really care about such things..... or so I tell myself. However, this was put to the test recently.
I was at work in the gallery with a young colleague. She's 24. She sat and stared at me for a spell and then said, "You have really good skin." I immediately puffed up, and was going to tell her my skin-care secrets (i.e. stay out of the sun and hope you have good genes) when she continued, "I hope when I'm old, my skin looks as good as yours."
BAM! Oooouch.
I laughed; then I slapped her silly. Haha, just kidding, I made her clean the customer toilets!
Actually, I took it as a compliment and hoped to God that I wasn't as tactless when I was her age.
Gotta go, I have moisturizing to do!
I passed my test! I can't tell you how RELIEVED I am that I don't have to take that damn thing again!!!!!!
The top score was 200 and I came in at 187. The passing score was 145 .... I can't quite fathom how I managed that high of a result, as I was really convinced it was touch and go if I would pass at all. I am a happy bunny today!!!!!!
I can now get my teacher's license and hopefully a job for this school year. That's the next hurdle to leap.
The downside is, of course, that I don't get kicked out of the house and must remain here with all the children, dogs, and dirt....
Since we had no TV or computers to entertain us this past week, Grandma and I decided to take The Boy to the beach. We were a little worried, as last year he wanted nothing to do with it; the nasty sand kept sticking to his feet, which bothered his little OCD soul to no end. 
He spent the entire time we were on the shore trying to get his feet clean. Happily, our worries proved to be unfounded this year. He loved it.
We brought the required bucket and spade for him to make sandcastles with, which he did for a while ... but then the birds caught his eye. He seemed to not mind the pipers and other smaller birds, but the SEAGULLS on the other hand ..... they had to GO!
An enemy gull is spotted too close to our camp. The bucket and spade are thrown down and The Boy readies himself for battle.
Oh My God! Can you believe it has the nerve to land right next to us!
AAAAAttack!
I'm pretty sure he'd still be chasing that bird if we would have let him. I give him an A+ for Effort, if not smarts!
We had a thunderstorm about a week ago that knocked out our cable and tried to fry my computer.
It took 3 days to get the cable back and another day for The SO to fix whatever was causing the blue screen of death, so Grandma and I went to the beach to wait it out.
But I'm home now, hooray!
Will post more later, must go satisfy my internet withdrawal pains ~
It seems that our stock with the neighbors has skyrocketed since we finally got the roof done.
Yesterday, they brought over a whole bushel of home-grown tomatoes. Mmmmmmm. So, I'm gonna let all you Yankees and Brits that read this blog see for yourself one of the finest examples of redneck cuisine going, the good old tomato sandwich.
First you need the 'maters. Then you slice them. That's it. Even Joe-Bob can do that! Dayum!
To complete the process you MUST have two more items; good redneck mayonnaise and white bread. I used Hellman's, but Duke's is a nicer choice. Any kind of crappy white bread will do, the doughier the better.
Hang on bubba, I can tell what you're thinking .... for gawd's sakes, DON'T make your own mayo OR use some kinda fancy French bread! You're not from around here, are ya?
Okay, slap on the mayo, loads of it, layer on the tomato slices, add salt and pepper and dig in.
This is truly a slice of Southern Heaven on a plate.
We had a good time last night; it was very low-key but the kids really enjoyed it.
A bonfire was lit and sparklers sparkled .... hotdogs and marshmellows were roasted. All-in-all quite a lovely night.
Hope yours was, too!
This is the first time in 4 years that I have not been working on the 4th of July!
The kids just want to have a bonfire, roast a few marshmellows and light up some sparklers - which is great, as our podunk town doesn't do fireworks.
Will post pics later of the fun!
In the meantime, y'all have a good one and be safe!
 |
Living In Small Town USA So You Don't Have To! |
 |
