Tuesday musing that turns into a rant
Well, last Saturday night we celebrated my granddaughter, Natasha's birthday. Yes, yes, we were a couple of weeks late but in my defense, it just means she gets cake and ice cream longer and more times ripping paper.
Here she is with her mother and her birthday cake. She helped decorate it, mainly because Kathy and I were running late when they got here, plus we spoil her like crazy. Luckily she got plenty of toys from everyone else, plus she is a little clothes horse. We gave her a dress and sweaters and pjs and a robe and gloves and a scarf and etc, etc, etc. She modeled all of it, unfortunately my camera battery went dead and my son-in-law, D'Artagnon only took one picture of her modeling, but here it is.Sometime I'm going to have to explain to the boy that the only job he has is to keep a camera trained on the kids at all times just in case they do something cute!For instance, here's Ethan giving his peepaw a big smile while practicing for his upcoming role in "The Omen II". I swear my camera has red-eye compensation on it, but every picture I have of this kid he looks like a demon possessed hell-hound. I was sitting at my desk the other day working on a design on the board and this picture came up on the screen saver (I have my computer screen saver set to the my pictures folder and of course since I take all my pictures on 2816x2112 just in case I need to make a poster of the bloody things, the picture filled the entire screen!)
I have to admit for a second I was in a panic! He just about scared me to death!
Anyway, even though you can't tell it from the pictures, Ethan is a little angel, well, he will be when he gets past his pinching phase, or maybe I just think he is because every time he sees me he laughs his head off. Perhaps he isn't an angel at all. Maybe he just thinks I look funny! (I can almost hear Susan now, "Everybody thinks you look funny!") Well, maybe I do look funny but I am coping with my looks, except for needing to lose weight and my hair turning grey and I've got wrinkles and .... Ok, maybe I'm not coping all that well with my looks. You know, one time my son and daughter-in-law, Jon and Audie were in a play at church and my daughter Abby was doing the makeup and Jon and Audie were playing grandparents with grown up grandchildren so Abby wanted to use me as a makeup model to figure out where all the wrinkles went! I don't get no respect! (Thanks Rodney)
Ok, for those of you that thought I was weird because I had a possum in my cellar, I can now reveal that the siren call to wildlife is genetic. Abby had a vole just sitting on a pile of dirt and sunning itself in the backyard. They caught it and put it in a bucket and then had to call me to get directions to the wildlife refuge that I took the possum to. Of course, after I told them how easy it was to find they get out there to find that someone graffiteed the sign and you couldn't read it anymore so they had to hunt for it.
When they finally found the place D'Artagnon took the bucket a little ways into the refuge and then, not thinking, kind of slung the vole out onto the ground. By the time the vole came to his senses and ran off he was looking pretty mad. So if you are out by 50th and North Council and a vole comes out of the bushes with a shiv, run away! I'm pretty sure that Abby's vole and my possum are probably out there in the bush somewhere plotting my demise. I tried to explain to the possum that it was Kathy's idea to throw it out but like most of us, he wasn't interested in assigning responsibility, just in fixing blame. He's probably working his way back here with all his little possum buddies to work me over. Hey, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean the world isn't out to get you.
Since I had talked about D'Art so much in this post I was going to put a picture up of him but blogger won't let me add anymore. But it did remind me of one of my pet peeves. PICTURES! For all of you ladies (and men) who hate to have your picture taken and erase them off the camera and hard disc (yes, Kathy, you know who you are) give us a break. Let us take your picture now and then. We want something to remember you by if something should happen to you. I remember when the Murrah bombing happened about a year later a husband of one of the women lost said that she hated to have her picture taken and now he couldn't remember what she looked like. I know that we are all vain and want to have pictures only when we look our best, but let's face it, ain't none of us Cindy Crawford, heck even Cindy Crawford ain't Cindy Crawford, have you seen what she looks like without makeup? One of my favorite songs is "Popsicle Toes" by Dianna Krall, there's a line in there about "Why do you always load your Pentax when I'm in the nude?" Wow, talk about stream of consciousness. Anyway, now and then we want a picture. We'll leave the camera off when you're naked but let us shoot when you're covered up.
Ok. I guess that I've covered all my life for today. Yeah, it is boring, isn't it?
Be good to yourselves,