I dooooooo!

Nineteen years ago today, the Captain and I said I DO.

And I became Mrs. Captain.

We dated 58 years before we got married, so we've really been together 962 years.

That's a long time, people.

A lot of water under the old marital bridge.

We thought we were going to get to sleep super early last night - 7:30.  Yes, 7:30.  I'm telling you we are a real live Mamaw and Pawpaw.  

But, the home phone rang. and rang. and rang. and rang.

And, the Captain's work phone rang. and rang. and rang. and rang.

So we ended up going to sleep at 10:00.  Which is late for a Mamaw and Pawpaw.

Then, this morning at 4:15 am, we woke up to the sound of Gauge getting sick.  Which is a sound all to itself.  Not really the best way to wake up.  On your anniversary or any other day for that matter.

Then while he was trying to tell me Happy Anniversary, the Captain rolled over and poked me in the eye.

I love my life.

Really.

So much.

Nay nay

Yesterday was work, work, work.
And lunch with Mom and Connie
And basketball practice and volleyball practice and a quick run to the grocery
And math homework
And stuff like that
And my driving the Captain crazy because I thought I saw a dead horse
Or a sleeping horse.
He was laying on his side. 
On his side.
In the field.
Oh dear.
So I called the Captain who told me more than once that he was not sending a squad car to check on the sleeping dead horse.
What's the problem?
Are you all just too busy fighting crime and chasing criminals to go poke a sleeping dead horse?
Humph.
Well, an hour later the sleeping dead horse was still all laid out in the field.
So I called the Captain again.
By this time, he is wishing he had never asked me out that second time.
I also asked my friend Steve who has real live horse knowledge.
Not only does he have real live horse knowledge, he has real live horses.
He said it is not unusual for a horse to grab a sunny spot for a long nap on a cold day.
I quit asking the Captain to send law enforcement and paramedic help.
That's on his equestrian conscience now.
I hope the sleeping dead horse was just enjoying his nap.
And not moving on to greener pastures.

it's purty

This is the Captain's jump drive.

Should I be worried about this?

cheers

 

 

Cop wife coffee mug

 

 

Sweepy

The Captain was watching one of those shows that he watches.... no, not a sasquatch one.  This was like a fact or faked show.  Something about a vortex or something like that.  And the folks went in the house and made a broom stand upright on end.

I wasn't impressed.   Because I had seen folks doing that on the internets.

But the Captain seemed to be pretty intrigued.

So I thought I'd give it a whirl.

So me and the broom headed to the kitchen.

And, sure enough, I made it stand upright on end.  On the bristles.  In the middle of the kitchen floor.  Standing at attention.

I called the Captain in to take a look.

Tah-dah!

Was he impressed that I mastered this feat?

Nope.

He just put his hands on his head and said, "Oh no, we live in a vortex!"

Was he serious?  Nope.

Was he impressed with what I did?  Nope.

He just headed back to the den and the bunk on TV.

"Weren't you wowed that I can do that to the broom?!?!?"

"Meh."

OK, then.

So I whopped him with the broom.

Not really.

I swept up tumbleweed dog hair off the floor.

And went to bed.

The end.

Who ya gonna call?

Yesterday was filled with all kinds of ridiculous bizarre situations. It seriously was just the weirdest day.

Included in this list was a call from the Captain who was updating some forms and needed to know who I wanted to receive my "notification call" from, in case something bad happens to him at work. And by "something bad happening to him at work", I don't really mean getting paper jammed in the copy machine.

"Who can it be?"

"Anybody you want."

"ANYBODY?!"

*sigh* "Yes, anybody."

"How about Huey Lewis?"

"How about Frank?"

"How about Huey Lewis AND Frank?"

"How about just Frank?"

Last night I decided I wanted to change my notifier from Huey Lewis to - prepare yourself for this brilliance - Christopher Meloni. We all know he is one of my Top Five Celebrity Crushes. And, since he plays a cop on TV, I figured he would be perfect to deliver the bad news. Because I'm sure he's done that on TV and all. It was brilliance on my part.

The Captain was not impressed with my epiphany.

Then I asked about utilizing another crush, Mike Rowe. And I made some joke about it being such a Dirty Job (hahahahaha) and got so tickled at myself over that little thing.

Again, no real reaction from the Captain.

All the Captain was really interested in at that moment was how much money some guy was going to get for his Civil War gun from those Pawn Star shop guys.

Humph.

I realized I was getting nowhere with this discussion. So I just gave up.

Well, nothing wrong with Frank. I like him.

Frank it is.

Not that I really even wanted to talk about such a yucky thing to begin with.

But, hey, he's the one with the forms to fill out.

And, he asked....

And, he did say "anybody"....

Anyhoo, I'm hoping today is not quite as bizarre as yesterday.

One thing that today brings is .... Coop's first baseball game! Woot! I'll be cheering for the cute kid playing third.

Peace out.

Captain and Custer

This is what the Captain is reading.

For "fun".

Ummmmm....



It's CUSTER.

Not CUSTARD.

I think Custard would be fun.

Custer? Not so much.

It's for our own good.

Yes, I confess I am now obsessed with Bejeweled.

Although I sometimes call it Bedazzled.

Which is kind of the same, but different.

And, I still play Words with Friends. I've got at least 20 games lots of games going.

I don't really see this as a waste of time.

I view it more as an investment in my future.

Brain exercises.

I'll be sharp as a tack when I'm old and gray. Well, rather, when I'm oldER and grayER.

When I was playing "just onnnnnnne more game" of Bedazzled last night, I told the Captain that one day he would thank me for all of this game playing because when we are old, my brain will be fit as a fiddle and I'll be able to take care of him. But I said that he won't know what's going on then because his brain will be mushy from watching all those Bigfoot shows. So he'd better thank me now.

He did not really agree with my logic.

Made perfect sense to me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go try to beat my Bejeweled high score of 154,350.

A post with pictures of big fish

This week has been the longest week ever in the history of ever. I know, I know, it's only been four days. But still.

My brain has decided not to rejoin me upon this journey back to reality.

So, since I cannot think of anything to blog about today, I'm going to share with you two photos that I call "Big Fish We Caught at the Beach".

And by "we", I mean the Captain.

Captain of the sea.... Isn't he cute?! And by "he", I mean the Captain. Again.

The kids helped reel this one in.

Rumor was the fishies were Redfish. I just called them Big Ol' Fish.

In other news, my Hogs are playing in the Cotton Bowl tonight. Can I have a hooray and a woo pig!?!?!?!!

And that about sums it up. Fish and Hogs.

Have a great weekend, people!

All Tied Up

Another wild Saturday night at our house featured The Captain finding a show about the history of -- are you ready for this -- string. Yes, I said string.

I couldn't even understand that. Because there's no real history of string. String has been around forever.

Apparently not, according to the Captain.

Cue the intense debate on how long string has been around and how can you not have string and how on earth can you invent string? You don't INVENT string. It's ... string.

Seriously.

And I heard him whisper to Cooper, "You realize, Son, man has to MAKE string. It just doesn't APPEAR. God doesn't CREATE string. Your mom is nuts." OK, I can't really confirm that last nuts comment. But I think that's what I heard him say.

I said well, I personally believed string was around before the Indians, even though that's what it showed on The History of String show.

Captain: "Just because it showed him with a bow and arrow doesn't mean he's an Indian."

Humph.

I accused him of coming up with stuff just to string me along during this debate (sorry, couldn't resist the string pun)

Captain: "Yes, I'm secretly a TV show producer creating shows about all sorts of made up stuff just to make you confused."

Humph.

I finally got him to agree that string was probably around before Jesus, and before Abraham, and before Noah. So that pretty much takes us back to the beginning of the world.

And, the convo came to a screeching halt when I asked how he thought Adam & Eve walked their dog without string.

(When I mentioned that brilliant thought to Connie, she said Adam & Eve didn't have to put their dogs on leashes because they kind of had full run of the place... OK, good point. But I still think they had string.)

How can you NOT have string?

It's been around forever.

Everybody knows that.

Anyway, I'm ready to wrap this post up. {insert groan here}

This week ... Last week of school for my peeps - woop woop! And I MUST get this shopping finished.

Y'all have a great Monday!

Pain in the neck

Last night at church, I had a little word with the Captain's chiropractor. You know, the one who has required the Captain to sleep on his back. (see also: snore like a freight train).

I told the good doctor that I would not hesitate to give him a little ringy ding at two in the morning to discuss the Captain's treatment plan.

Another little part of this healing process requires the Captain to lay on the floor with a rolled up towel under his neck. And when I ask him what he's doing he says, "Shhhh - I'm supposed to lay here and totally relax for 10 minutes." And then he lays there with his eyes closed.

Wha???

OK, then.....

Speaking of pain in the neck....

Let's talk holiday shopping. Or let's not.

I'm slowly chipping away at my to-do list. And I'm trying to squash that suffocatingish feeling of "I have so much to do and so little time to do it."

So. Much. To. Do.

And that may or may not have been me in Target last night at 9:30 buying bananas for Jordan's French club lunch....

Which is in no way related to the Christmas shopping.

How do you say banana in French anyway?

Anyway, I bought two gifts yesterday. Hooray for me! But still lots to do. And then that whole wrapping thing.... My grand plans of "wrap as I buy" really have not panned out so well for me.

I think I'm going to go grab a towel and lay in the floor for awhile.

Just Another Medic Monday

Complaints of a sore throat and a pretty major history of strep led me to take Jordan to the minor med yesterday for the ol' swabby strep test.

Good news. No strep.

Bad news. No strep. Because means, there's no Rx for that. And, as Jordan put it, "It's just a waste of a perfectly good sore throat."

So she feels like doggie poop. And since next week is exams, this week is known as "Cram as much work and tests as you can into one week". So that's blah.

When we got home, Cooper said the Captain had been waiting on me to help him with his head...

...since he had busted his head open on a nail when he was in the attic...

...while he was up there checking on a roof leak...

...which was discovered after the 5+" of rain we have had over a 48 hour period...

....and now there's a big wet spot on the den ceiling...

...awesome.

Oh, the Captain --

Anyway, he ripped the back of his head open on an exposed nail.

So I tried to clean it out. And stop the bleeding. And not faint. I'm not too keen on bloody heads so I just kept recommending going BACK to the minor med for stitches. Then I wouldn't faint in my own bathroom floor while trying to clean up his gash. Besides, he wouldn't let me put peroxide on it for fear of bleaching out his hair....

After a few texts and photos sent to Dr. Brother-in-Law, we decided stitches were not in the Captain's future.

So he sat over there in his chair with cotton balls stuck on his head and tried not to bleed out while eating sour cream chicken enchiladas and watching Monday Night Football.

I was feeling a bit better about his condition until he said, "So you're pulling for the Ravens tonight?"

Ummmm, well.... it's the Chargers and the Jaguars.

Alrighty then....

I just sat there in my chair, eating my dinner, and googling "head injury symptoms"....

Later, he said he couldn't keep his eyes open and we debated if that was a result of the blood loss or just because he was just tired. We finally just threw caution to the wind and headed off to bed.

That's when he says, "I regret to tell you that my chiropractor has told me I have to sleep on my back"

(He's been seeing somebody - who we actually go to church with - about a neck problem...)

I put my head in my hands and started weeping. Because when the Captain sleeps on his back, he snores like some sort of large bear in the peak of hibernation.

"He says it's bad for my neck if I sleep on my back."

"Well, it's bad for your marriage if you sleep on your back."

So the Captain and his bloody head drifted off to sleep.

And immediately started snoring.

And snored so loud that it woke him up.

At 9:30 pm.

And I said, "I'll be having a word with ol' B.K. on Wednesday night at church. And I'm not afraid to call him at 2:00 in the morning to discuss this treatment method."

So, I just swallowed half a bottle of advil PM, passed out cold, and slept through the night.

I was a little scared when I woke up this morning that the Captain had bled out overnight in his sleep, but his white pillowcase was still white this morning and he was breathing, so I guess he's ok.

Unless he starts cheering for the Ravens this morning.

Flat and Loose

So, yeah, we had snow. It snowed a lot. Big, wet, gorgeous flakes that were so pretty to watch. We braved the blizzard to go to Jordan's end of year volleyball banquet last night. But, to the dismay of the little people in my house, it all melted as soon as it hit the streets. So, school's open. See also: Get up.

I took yesterday off to do errands and things and stuff. Looking back on it, I'm not real sure what I accomplished. Although, four gifts were purchased. So, yea me.

While I was out, a little light came on my dashboard. I was almost home, so I kept on driving, figuring if my engine was going to fall out, I'd rather it fall out in my driveway rather than half way to Target. The light was a little exclamation point with squiggly lines all around it. It was hard to take the exclamation point seriously since it had the squiggly lines surrounding it. So yeah, ignoresville.

Once I got to the safety of my garage, I pulled out the ol' manual book thing and discovered it was a "low tire alert". Humph.

I looked at all four tires. This is where it gets complicated. Because I can talk myself into believing two things: One, that tires are flat. And B, that I'm going to throw up. (Seriously, if you comment on here that you have been puking all night and then I read it, I will convince myself that I was exposed and within thirty minutes will be laying on the couch with a rag and a bucket.) So, yeah, not only did the tires look flat, I was practically watching them lose air as I stood there.

I called the Captain to see if he had some big air pumpy thing in the garage that he could fix the soon to be flat tire. He asked if one of the tires looked flat. That's when I wisely informed him that all four of my tires were flat as well as the four tires on his truck which was also parked in the garage. Yep, eight flat tires out there.

Throwing caution to the wind, I drove his truck for the remainder of the afternoon's running around. And, you never know what you may find when you get in the Captain's truck. And by "never know what you may find" I mean machete. Yes, a MACHETE. I carefully tucked said machete in the backseat and headed to the Hob to find some curly red and green things to tuck in my tree. Yes, the tree that still has no ornaments on it.

Anyhoo, no flat tires on the truck. No flat tires on my car. No need for said machete. And no curly red and green things at the Hob.

And the day's hits just keep coming because after the Captain got home, he informs me that yesterday morning when he was taking a shower, he noticed a small piece of grout coming out of the shower floor. So he picked it up. And it pulled another piece of grout out. So he pulled THAT up too. Then two pieces of tile came out of the floor. Apparently, my solution of not using the shower for a day and just gluing the tiles back to the floor and squirting some grouty stuff in there is not acceptable, because the Captain began informing me that the entire floor of the shower has to be pulled up and replaced. Something about water getting under the bottom of the shower and then the water pan overflows and then water goes through the wall into my closet. I don't really know all the details, because I blacked out after he said it would cost "a little under $1,000" to get it all fixed. So, Merry Christmas to me. I'm getting a new shower floor.

More on exciting goings on later. Including updates on whether I will find curly red and green things and if we will ever get the ornaments put on our tree. In the meantime, have a lovely day.

Debates and Goodbye (maybe)

I love having debates with the Captain. Nothing like a little intense fellowship with that guy. And our topics are all over the place.

Here are a few things the Captain and I have debated in the last few days:

> How many miles it is across the entire US

> How many miles it is from the earth to the moon

> The special role of the coffee filter basket and how important it is to treat it gently

> The proper way to eat M & Ms

> The appropriateness of giving doggies biscuits unconditionally

> What years did Shakespeare live


In other news, apparently an asteroid is hitting the earth this afternoon at 5:30. That's right in the middle of a big press conference I'm doing that may or may not include two NBA stars. And while those media folk are hard to figure out sometimes, I'm pretty sure an asteroid hitting the earth will garner more press than my youth sports facility announcement.

And, for the record, the Captain is nowhere concerned about the asteroid hitting the earth. When he left this morning, I kissed him goodbye and told him it's been fun being his wife, but an asteroid would be hitting the earth before we all arrived back home tonight so this was pretty much the end. Then he gave me that look. Yeah, the "I wish I had never asked you out the second time" look.

So, if the big ol' humongous asteroid blows the Earth up, I just want to say thanks for being faithful readers of my blog. I love you all. Have a good life.

But, if I survive the press conference and the Earth remains intact, then I'll see you tomorrow.

Boooooooots

This post is about boots. But it's also Halloween. So the title for today's post should cover both bases. I know, I know.... How do you people stand the cleverness of this blog? Bless...

In an effort to find the balance between cute and warm for Friday night's homecoming game, and after extensive fashion coaching from Connie, I set out Friday afternoon to find some boots. You know - boots. Like "fashionista wear with jeans" boots. Boots.

Quick text to the Captain:

Me: Gonna' run by the store and look for some boots.

Captain: What about your boots in the garage?

(Part of me thought this was hilarious since the Captain is boot-obsessed. And for him to even remotely question a boot purchase was slightly funny.)

Me: Well, maybe... but it's not gonna' be wet. Just cold. Boot boots.

Captain: Oh, I thought those were insulated.

After a futile search, I headed home bootless and reported my failure to the Captain.

He still kept talking about wearing the boots in the garage.

Now, this whole time I thought he was talking about my little polka dot rain boots. Cute? Yes. Warm? No. Wet outside? No.

"Oh, not those," he said. "The insulated camo hunting boots."

CAMO HUNTING BOOTS?

TO HOMECOMING?!!??!!?

He's hilarious.

Now, I'm not much of a fashion plate. And, yes, I had stated that Warm > Cute. But, I would have to draw the line at the camo hunting boots.

I did find some acceptable footwear.

And my feet stayed warm.

And the Lions won.

And are district champs!

And we all lived happily ever after.

The end.

A funny thing happened on my way to Target

So the craziest thing happened to me yesterday. Wanna' hear about it? Sure you do...

I ran in a Target that I hardly ever, ever NEVER go in. Grabbed what I needed and headed to the check out.

I'm staring with Gladys, my check out lady. She looked familiar, but not like "Hey, I know you" familiar - more like familiar in "Hey you just look familiar" familiar. So she continues to scan my stuff. And I continue to stare at her. She just had ... this look. Familiar.

Then I say, "You wouldn't by any chance be related to anybody named {Insert Captain's Last Name Here}?"

And then she just looks at me kind of weird and says why yes she is.

And I say "As in {Insert Captain's Last Name Here} of the Small Town, Missouri {Insert Captain's Last Name Here}'s?"

And then she really looks at me kind of weird and says why yes she is.

And I said, "I'm married to Captain {Insert Captain's Last Name Here}."

And come to find out, her uncle ("Uncle Buck") was the Captain's grandfather ("Granddaddy Buck").

And I said in loud fashion, "SHUT. UP."

Seriously people - how weird is that? A family reunion of sorts right there at register 3 at the Target I never go in.

So Gladys the Target check-out lady is the Captain's cousin or something like that.

I couldn't wait to fill the Captain in on this exciting discovery, but he wasn't nearly as blown away by the situation as I was.

He just kind of said "Oh, Gladys. Yeah, she's Irene's daughter."

Maybe there's some kind of family feud that I'm not aware of or something. Cause I haven't seen Gladys gathered 'round the holiday table.

And, apparently, it wasn't like I had discovered this long lost family member. So I guess we aren't going to be on Oprah for some big reunion show.

Good thing, because Oprah isn't even on anymore.

Oh well...

So, anyway...

Merry Christmas, Gladys.

Excuse me sir, your panties are showing

The Captain created quite a little scene the other day at the gym.

Work out - check.

Steam room - check.

Wet shorts - check.

There's a little thing in the locker room that you can put your wet gym clothes or swim suit in and it spins the water out of your clothes. I liken it to a giant salad spinner.

So the Captain does that.

Puts his shorts in there.

Spins them around.

And puts them back on.

And he talks to some other fellas in the locker room.

See y'all tomorrow.

Then he goes out to the lobby and talks to the gal at the front desk.

Have a good day.

He greets a few other folks walking in to the gym.

Mornin'.

Then he drives home and heads to the bathroom to take a shower.

That's when he notices....

He has put his shorts on inside out.

Inside out shorts -- not really that big of a deal.

But inside out shorts that have a built in panty thing - that's kind of hilarious.

In fact that's REALLY hilarious.

And the Captain had been prissing around the locker room and the gym and the lobby and the parking lot wearing shorts. With panties on top.

I leave you with that vision.

Have a nice day.

The Captain tweets...kind of

Did you know the Captain has a twitter?

Yep.

Coolio.

But the coolest thing of all is that he has "people" that tweet for him. The life...

The Captain is not in any way, shape, or form a fan of social media. At. All. He thinks Facebook is straight from the devil. And doesn't exactly understand the whole twitter thing. Although he has made great strides in his comprehension of this phenom.

But he is so full of fabby policey behavior and wise proverbial sayings that these ... ahem ... "people" thought he should be sharing it with the world. Because you really need to know his thoughts about Bigfoot shows and crime and stuff...

Now, let it be known that the Captain is very aware of "his" twitter. And he is very aware of what "he" tweets. Because the "people" know not to do stuff like that without his knowledge or approval. And they believe in full disclosure and all.

So, scoot on over and check him out right here

And, while you're at it, have a lovely day.

No, I don't want to smell it.

Today's blog features the word "urine". I'm so sorry...

Because last night the Captain said, "Nothing better than a brand new bottle of buck urine."

And I really didn't know how to respond to that. Buck urine is used in deer hunting for something that I can't quite explain. And all the deer hunting stuff starts this weekend. Tis the season. That's why the Captain has been shooting his bow in the back yard pretending to be Robin Hood. And why The Great White Hunter the Captain has a brand new bottle of buck urine. Nothing better, apparently.

Personally, I think there are lots of things better than a bottle of buck urine.

Like a root canal. Or an ingrown toenail.

Not only is it ridiculous that he uses buck urine. It's even more ridiculous that he pays for it.

And speaking of ridiculous, he wanted me to smell it.

No thanks, really. I'm good.

Probably should have pretended to do it. Because my nose is so stopped up from this ridiculous cold I can barely breathe and I can't smell anything anyway.

But then I would be setting a precedent. And I don't want to be known as a "Urine Sniffer."

Sadly, this isn't the first time I've blogged about deer pee. I know, I know.... Remember The one about the pee? Yeah, that one.

Anyway, the current buck urine isn't in my freezer. This is just sitting there on the counter. Maybe since this isn't explosive, it can remain at room temperature.

I'm not touching it.

Or smelling it.

Even if I could smell.

And, for the three of you still reading this, please accept my apologies for blogging about buck urine.

Have a good day anyway.

Untitled blah blah blah

Today is apparently Thursday. The week has been all jacked up. Guess we'll have it wrapped up before we realize. Fine with me.

Tonight is a volleyball game. Of course it is.

And then some football. Yes.

That's kind of all I talk about this time of year ... volleyball and football.

Football and volleyball.

That's kind of all there is right now for us.

And this weekend is just football. And I also want to sleep for 297,569,134 hours.

My little bouts of insomnia have resurfaced again. And that's not anywhere near cool.

And, the Captain snores. He has lots of versions of his snoring which range from sounding like a small grizzly bear to a clogged up vacuum cleaner to a Sleestak.

Please, people, tell me you're old enough to remember the Sleestaks.

This post has been all over the place. Just like my week.

It happens.