The Book I'll Never Write

I really really really really am not making this up.
Really.

I keep saying I'm gonna write a book one day. If I ever get around to it, this story will be in there...

Here on Planet Army Base, we have to drive through gates to get home or to go out into the real world. It's not a big deal... You just can't transport lots of weapons or terrorists.

There are times when the lines are long. VERY long. A dose of patience is necessary. It's important to protect our bases and the soldiers who call them "home."

The gate guards are usually friendly, too. They always say "hello" or "have a good day." They occasionally ask how you're doing.

This week, I had the privilege of learning a new phrase from one of the gate guards.

And. Oh. My. I plan on using it.

He said, "Hello there!"

I said, "Hello to you. How are you today?"

He said, "I am doing all right. How are you?"

I said, "Oh... I am hanging in there."

And HE said, "Like a hair in a biscuit."

I promise. That's what he said. "Like a hair in a biscuit."

I was disgusted and happy all at the same time.
The thought of a hair hanging in my biscuit is yucky. But the idea of being able to use that lovely phrase myself?!?

I can hardly wait for someone to tell me that they are "hanging in there."

I wonder if I need to be wearing my shirt from the Cracker Barrel when I say it?

Teacher Appreciation

The strep test results finally posted, and I was right. (I love saying those 3 little words.)
A full 48 hours after we saw the doctor, we have confirmation of strep. Hello 1972.

Thankfully, the doctor suspected an infection and we started the antibiotic on Monday. The boy is LOTS better, and I sent his bee-hiney back to school.

This is the conversation we had yesterday while sitting at the table.
I was paying bills and balancing my checkbook. (Does ANYone else still do that besides me?)
The boy was doing his homework... 3 days worth... and talking non-stop.

I like to call this...

"Reason #8564 I Don't Homeschool" or "He's Like a Monkey on Crack"

Me: "You have GOT to be quiet. I don't know how you do your homework with all that jabbering."

The boy: "I don't know how you work without talking."

PS... It IS Teacher Appreciation Week. And I REALLY appreciate my son's.
Go hug a teacher today! Or better yet, take her/him some lunch. Or a cup of coffee. If I could, I would send the boy's teacher on a cruise. She deserves it.

Waiting on a Strep Test With 10 on Tuesday

Here on Planet Army Base, we apparently live in the Stone Age. I am still waiting on the results from yesterday's strep test on the boy.
I know, I know... There's this thing called a "Rapid Strep Test" and most of you leave the doctor's office with your results that day.
Not here, honey. I think we're waiting on a rabbit to die or something. Wait. Wasn't that a pregnancy test from 1940?

So, NO. No one is pregnant, but someone may or may not have strep.

While we wait....


Here's Tuesday's 10 Questions... from Chelsea at Roots and Rings.

1. Do you prefer markers, crayons, or colored pencils?
Markers are my favorites, but I love all things related to "school supplies." I was one of those nerdy kids who got excited about new pencils and notebooks. Especially markers and crayons. I still AM one of those kids.

2. As a child, how did your parents celebrate your birthday? (Parties, cake, you pick the dinner, etc.)
When we were very young, it was a birthday cake at home with grandparents. (I still remember loving the smell of the grown-ups' coffee brewing.) Later, we could have any kind of party we wanted. Sleepover, skating trip, movie night... Now that I am a mommy, I have much more respect for the level of tolerance my parents had. Or maybe they were drinking.

3. How do you feel about leggings?
I feel that they are adorable. On anyone with skinny legs and tiny behinds.

4. How do you prefer to follow directions? With a map? Words?
Interesting question. I prefer the word kind. Especially the words that say, "Go right at the mall, turn left at the Krispy Kreme, stop where you can see the red barn, turn left at the house that some fool painted pink." I am Southern, after all.

5. What do you eat for snack?
Whatever I can find. My favorite is cheese and crackers.

6. Have you ever ordered anything from an infomercial or bought any As Seen on TV products?
I'm certain I've never ordered anything directly from TV, but I think I may own an item or two that are "As Seen on TV."

7. What’s your favorite thing about summer?
No school for the boy equals more sleep for me. And the beach.

8. Do you have a tattoo? What and where is it?
Yep. It's a sea turtle on my left foot. And I know you didn't ask, but it hurt. Worse than childbirth. And that was not a fun experience.

9. Are you good at journaling?
Sadly, not anymore. I used to be. I think I became consumed with paranoia that someone might see my inner thoughts... And they are not horribly sadistic or incredibly intelligent. I get more and more private the older I get. Even if I am dead and gone, the idea of someone reading my journaling stresses me out. I would love to start again.

10. What’s your favorite way to eat a hamburger?
If it's homemade... with just mayo. If we're eating out, then I like all the fixins. Weird, I know. And I don't want it burnt. Nor do I want it mooing. Nice and done, not a hockey puck.

Don't Put Me in a Home Just Yet 'Cause My Shirt Didn't Come From Cracker Barrel

I thought I was ready for the support hose and bifocals yesterday. Until I eavesdropped on some real older ladies today.

It all began so innocently. It always does.
We were stuck at home.
The boy has a very sore throat and was running a fever, so we didn't go to church.

I do love my son, and I don't mind taking care of him when he's sick, but I was a little stir crazy by about 5:00pm. I had cabin fever, and we were both staring out the back door when we saw it.

A police car.
And then another police car.
And then another and another and another.

All pulling up onto our street!
Within just a few minutes, there were 7 cars.
And 7 officers jumping out and walking around!
On my street!

Technically, most of them were MPs... military police.

They began to stroll through our backyards and talk with some people standing around. We had no clue what was happening, and it's a good thing there was no gunfire, because we were not about to walk away from that back door.

It may have been the lack of sleep from the previous 2 nights that impaired our judgement.
(A good weekend's worth of sleep does not involve being wakened by the tapping of a child on your leg or arm or booty or whatever happens to be hanging out of the covers in the dark at the hours of 1:00 am or 4:35 am. To tell you his throat really hurts. Because I knew that already. And momma has very little patience or sympathy at 1:00 am and 4:35 am.)

Anywho...

We watched the long arm of the law stroll around the neighborhood for about an hour, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

I got on Facebook and put out my own APB...

"What's going down in our 'hood? I am a bored old lady and I need to know."

It wasn't long until I got the answer.

"Two teenagers were seen looking into parked cars and then trying to enter an empty house."

The reply came from my friend who claimed to be nosier than me.
I told her thanks and that the things I was inventing in my old-lady head were much more exciting.

Fast forward to today. This morning. The boy and I venture out of the house to visit the doctor.
(Strep test results are pending, but we'll keep you informed.)

We were sitting in the Pharmacy waiting area... again, bored... so I began to eavesdrop on the 3 little old ladies sitting behind us.

I PROMISE none of this is made up. I'm not that creative on low sleep.

(Add your own thick Southern accent.)
Little Old Lady #1: "Boy, they sure do keep it hot in here."

Little Old Lady#2: "I have to be careful what I wear, 'cause I sweat sa dang much."

Little Old Lady #3: "I got this here shirt at the Cracker Barrel."

Little Old Lady #2: "Well that's real nice, but they got some real good food. We go there when we go up to the outlets."

And that's the end of what I heard. They called us up to the pharmacy window.
I'll never know how much she paid for her shirt or who puts what in their biscuits or how they keep from getting all sweaty in the summer... because I'm sure those were the conversations that followed.

So, after the eavesdropping experience, I have a new criteria for being an old lady.
I may be getting close to 40.
I sometimes shout at teenagers to turn their music down.
I have more than a few gray hairs.
I have been known to eat at a restaurant before 5:00 pm.
And I am VERY nosey... especially standing at my window or on my porch.

But I do not own a sweat-free shirt from the Cracker Barrel.
Yet.

PS... If you DO have a cute shirt from Cracker Barrel, please don't hate me! I don't mean ANY offense at all. I'm sure they have some lovely clothes. I'll just keep my purchases to biscuits, candy, and Yankee candles.

The Road To Heck Is Paved With Unwritten Blog Posts

If "writer's block" is a reality, then is "blogger's block" a possibility as well?
Cause I've had it.

It's not a lack of suitable material. There is plenty of that.

I could tell you about the all the turkey hunting that the men folk have been doing. And I could show you pictures of a giant dead bird. You go, son.

I could chat about our trip to see my family.

I could show you pictures of my arm and the big wound I received from the fire pit. No, it's not a burn. (It's a pinch-blood blister thingy.) And yes, I took a picture. I texted my sis-in-law and asked her if she wanted to see something gross. She said yes, so I took a picture of my arm and sent it to her. I'm cool like that.

I could tell you about the yearly inspection that our Housing office did yesterday. On our house. And I could tell you that at the precise moment they were doing their inspecting, the downstairs toilet overflowed. Overflowed as in water POURING out onto the floor.

I could complain about the trip I made to the Mart and the 7 items that got left behind at the register. Causing me to have to return to the Mart and retrieve them.

I could preach a little. There's this little thing on my mind lately that's really a big thing. And a big word. Reconciliation. Hmmmm....

I could tell you that my cat needs a bath.
I could chat about the weather and how it's gonna be ungodly hot this weekend.
I could tell you about how badly I need a pedicure.
I could tell you about the internal dilemma I faced when I finally ordered new furniture for my den.

I feel as if I can't get my ideas together. I fear my thoughts are not going to be interesting to anyone but me.

So instead, I leave you with these small morsels.
You are welcome.
If I can't escape the chaos in my mind or find the brain power to write a post telling only one story... Then I do not want to be alone.


And just now... in case you are interested...

Typing the word "morsel" made me want a chocolate chip.

This Week's Flashback

These Ten on Tuesday questions took me down memory lane. And it is a long and winding road. Isn't that a country music song?


1. Think back a decade, do you remember what your first cellphone was? Was it as cool as Zack Morris’s phone?
Oooo. I am lovin the "Saved By The Bell" reference. I have always been a late bloomer when it comes to technology. It's genetic. We didn't have a microwave growing up until WAY after microwaves came out. My first cel phone wasn't too bad. Or too big. I fear I have spoken too much... I realize there are readers of this blog who (after the microwave comment) will think I am 74. I am obviously not 74, but I loved some "Saved By The Bell." Now I am old AND geeky.

2. What is the first children’s book you remember being read to you?
Dr. Seuss books. Especially "The Cat In The Hat."

3. What was your first car? Did you love it or hate it?
A red Dodge Shadow. I think it was a 1989. I loved it... Until the day it died in the middle of an intersection on the busiest road in Birmingham, Alabama. Then I hated it. Still drive a red vehicle to this day.

4. Who was your hero growing up?
Wonder Woman. I had Wonder Woman under-oos. Here we go again... I am not 74.

5. Think back to your first kiss. Was it everything you dreamed of?
Not at all. I think the poor boy lost at Spin the Bottle or something.

6. What was your first BAD hairstyle choice? (Extra points for embarrassing photos)
I made a mistake of asking for a Dorothy Hamill haircut. It was cute on her, but I was not an Olympic figure skater. I hated it the minute I walked out. I think I was in First Grade.
Since then, I have gone on to have many other yucky hairstyles. The entire 80's decade comes to mind. I had one in the 90's that my sweet husband calls the Holly Hobby hairdo. Nice.
(No extra points.)

7. What was your first realistic dream? (One where you had to think “Oh dang, was that a dream?”)
It was a horrible one. I dreamed someone I know was killed and the murderer was chasing me. Very real and very creepy.

8. What was the first phobia you remember developing?
I'll let you guess. They hiss.
I was 6 years old, and I was walking outside to take my dogs some food. I almost stepped on it before I actually noticed that it WASN'T a log.
BIG. Copperhead. Snake.
I remember running inside and much later realizing I was still holding onto the dogs' food. Welcome, snake phobia.

9. Which character on Sesame Street do you most identify with?
Elmo. Or Oscar, if I'm having a bad day. Or Cookie Monster.

10. What was the hardest goal you ever accomplished?
There are some that come to mind... like graduating from college, not failing a certain History class, buying and then selling our first house...
But without a doubt, the first one that comes to mind...
Childbirth.

This Might Seem Shallow...

I'm just gonna go on and say that, because there is absolutely no eternal significance to some of what I am about to post.

I've refrained for months now... refrained from posting about American Idol.

Last year, I think I offended some nice folks and alienated myself with my choice of personal favorite. I didn't dislike the winner... he was great. I just liked the other guy's singing better. See, there I go again. I feel the disapproving stares.

But that is so last year.

Let's see who I can tick off this season.

I'll start abruptly and say good good goody good-bye to Tim. I had been waiting for that moment for weeks.

I love love love Idol Gives Back. It's nice. And encouraging to see the Idol machine doing something good, besides churning out singers.

Tuesday night's episode was especially special to me because a great friend of mine gave me the laugh I'd needed all day. No names here. This person knows who they are and the rest of the story is for you all...

I have a few "texting buddies" during A.I. One of them is my sis-in-law, the other is my friend from college, and the other one is... well.
We all text and comment and chat during the show. Nothing is sacred. We even rate Kara's choice of hair-do for the night.
(I warned you I might seem shallow.)

My phone and fingers get a workout on Idol nights.

On Tuesday night, I waited a few minutes for this un-named friend to text me. To let me know he and his wife were watching. When I didn't hear from him, I wrote...

"You watchin?"

After a few minutes, this is what I got back...

"I wish!!! I am locked out of my house and (my wife) is (45 minutes away)!!!
Stop laughing!"

We are friends because he KNEW I'd be laughing. But we are also friends because of Idol. We bonded over it back in Season 2.
So being the good friend I am, I texted him updates all the way through the show. Inserting my opinions whenever necessary.
Thankfully his wife made it home, let him in the house, and he watched it on DVR.
His wife probably laughed too... and that's part of the reason I love her!
(I warned you I might seem shallow.)

Now my pick for this season? Because I know you all really give a hoot what I think.

Crystal. The girl has a gift. Her singing seems effortless.
And the thing I like and respect most about her is that she comes across so real. Down-to-Earth. And I'm not just referring to the dreadlocks.

I've always had an appreciation for people who were confident in their own skin. The ones who never seem to be trying to be something they're not.
And they're ok with others around them being real, too.
I may not agree with their personal choices, but I respect them and their ability to be "real" (for lack of a better word).

Maybe I could look for ways to be more like them.

Maybe I'll start by not laughing at my friend who locked himself out of his house on Idol night.

Well... maybe I'll find another way to start...