Ice Storm

You know what, ice storms suck. Ice storms that come before the trees have dropped all of their leaves come with extra special suckiness.

This is what we woke up to Sunday morning.

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Sigh. Thankfully, we notified the neighbors that they might just want to move the car before it became one with the tree.

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We owe her an antenna

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Yet still, we are blessed. We’d been hearing the news of the storm since Wednesday so parked our own vehicle on the opposite side of the driveway.

We spent Thursday with family sharing good food, good stories, and lots of laughter. With the freezing drizzle on Friday, we decided we felt like a swim so headed to the local YMCA and their indoor pool. After a nice swim, we tossed Die Hard in the DVD player which turned into staying up and watching the first three movies while the storm rolled in.

Woke up Saturday to more freezing rain and the first of the branches in the yard. We decided the most appropriate course of action was to stay indoors and watch the next two movies in the franchise, interrupted periodically by the sounds of snapping branches and them crashing to the ground.

Thankfully, all fell to the ground. Nothing of any consequence hit the house or the cars. We don’t have any power lines near the house and aside from a few flashes, the lights stayed on for the duration of the storm. Some of my neighbors weren’t so lucky. Just across the street, they lost power for around 6 hours. We offered to run an extension cord.

Sure, this is going to be a lot of work, but we’ve got a chainsaw and we’re all able-bodied. Several neighbors have offered their assistance as well. We’ll all help each other, and together, we’ll weather this storm and the next.

See? We’re starting to get it cleaned up already. No shortage of firewood in my neighborhood!

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Good Job, Guys!

You remember all that talk about guns being great equalizers? You know, that thing that makes it possible for a 110-pound woman to stand up to a 300-pound rapist?

All that effort to encourage your wives and daughters in the shooting sports? All the talk about how we’re all equal on the firing line?

Congratulations. You just told all those women that they still don’t measure up. Because obviously all knowledge about firearms is housed in a set of testicles.

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Hur. Hur. Hur.

Obviously ignorance makes one worthless. You know, like a girl. How dreadful.

Way to go. Good job in showing your daughters, girlfriends, wives just how strong, intelligent, and capable you really believe us all to be.

Frank?

Um???

Frank.

Well, I did buy that swimsuit. I guess I am now Frank. Frank is an extra large Chinese woman, FYI.

Conversations Without Context

Me: *Digging through bag pulling out various items*

Friend: Was that a bottle of emergency tequila?

Me: *shrugging* Yeah

Friend: Why do have a bottle of emergency tequila?

Me: Because I dropped my emergency scotch in front of the elementary school.

Of course.

 

 

Chick-fil-A Tried to Kill Me

This has gone too far. The swan song of the hate chicken has finally hit a sour note.

How dare you attempt to poison me! And with a silent migraine, no less. We’ve gotten along just fine for all this time, but I go to one Pride Blockparty. Coincidence? I think not.

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The nerve. The blatant bigotry of completely ignoring my unique food allergy that I failed to inform you about! Putting delicious mandarin oranges in the fruit cup! Monstrous.

I am THE VICTIM here! Nevermind that you clearly display the presence of those diabolical spheres of swelling and misery in your menu photo. #citrusprivilege

I didn’t even eat them. I stabbed them with my fork and put them aside. But it was already too late. You didn’t even warn me that stabbing oranges may spread their juices indiscriminately across the strawberries and blueberries. Typical. So patriarchy. Did the melons consent to being sprayed with those fluids? Please.

Someone fund my pain and suffering!! I will not be satisfied until I have my own clothing line and reality show!

Yes, I’m kidding. I know I’m allergic. I know they put oranges in the fruit cup. I should have been smart enough to realize that removing the offending wedges by stabbing them with my fork was maybe not the brightest idea. Or just had the waffle fries.

That’s Right! I Promised You Baby Birds!

So I got a little delayed with that. Sorry. Here are your birds.

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This is a baby cardinal that recently hatched at my in-laws house. I think I will call him Stanley.

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I think the various and sundry blog issues have been sorted. Please let me know if you run into any issues.

Also, I got to experience a silent migraine. No stars. I do not recommend this experience. Will not be ordering again.

On Being Nice

Recently, a friend shared this story over on the book of face

Today at <restaurant> while <child’s name> and I were eating a man started talking to <child’s name> about his stuffed animal.

Man: that’s an unusual dog. ( it’s a teddy bear)
Child: [looks at man. Does not respond]
Man: you aren’t gonna talk to me ??
Child: [looks away]
Me: no he isn’t .

A. You are a stranger . My son is not being “rude,” and there is no reason for him to discuss or chat with you .
B. We teach kids not to talk to strangers. Social niceties are not necessarily a good practice for kids
C. ‪#‎sorrynotsorry‬

Bravo, I say!

But, of course, there was dissent, this is the internet, after all. One commenter lamented that it was “sad” that she was “creating unnecessary fear” in her child. Another tried to make the argument that it wasn’t a threatening situation. Another implied that she was teaching her son to be rude and disrespectful.

All because she supported her son’s choice not to speak to a stranger. This is insanity.

As a society, we’ve developed this warped idea that not nice=rude. There’s space between. He was not impolite, and he was not rude. He has absolutely no responsibility to be nice. He should be, and I assume he is, kind where warranted, but he doesn’t have to be nice. 

No one has the responsibility to be nice. You do not have to speak to the stranger in the parking lot that just needs a bit of change, or gas money, or…Well, really that stranger just wanted to get close enough to grab your wallet or steal your car. Or worse.

Because of course you should be nice to the young man that wants to sit in on your Bible study.

Sure, she was right there. The risk potential of that situation was minimal, but what kind of lesson does that teach her child? If Mom encourages him to be nice to the stranger in the restaurant, how should he react to the stranger in the bathroom? As a parent, you have to think beyond the moment. You must model the skill set so your child can make appropriate decisions in the future.

My friend pointed out that later, her son approached the cashier and politely requested a refill of his beverage. This doesn’t sound like he’s being crushed by unnecessary fear of people. Instead, he is learning an appropriate level of caution.

Living in a polite society does not mean that you must be nice to strangers. Of course, one should not be rude, impolite, or unkind, but that does not mean you owe it to anyone to be nice.

 

 

 

 

Uncluttering

My life has been over-cluttered, not just with the things I’ve collected that are scattered about my house (although that’s certainly an issue), but with too many distractions and influences that aren’t really adding to my quality of life. It’s time I do something about it.

No, I’m not about to do some mass Facebook unfriending, but there will be some. If you are reading this, you aren’t likely to be on the chopping block, particularly if we interact on a regular basis. Quite honestly, that paring down process has already begun, but I seriously doubt those that have been cut have noticed.

I’m simplifying my feedreader. I just don’t have the time or inclination to read each and every blog currently listed there. I find more and more often that I am hitting the mark as read button anyway. Again, those that will be removed aren’t likely to notice as I probably haven’t been interacting with them already.

And yeah, stuff. I have books that I haven’t gotten around to reading that I probably never will. I have half-finished projects that I should really be honest about and pass on. I have too many “things that may come in handy someday.” So many, in fact, that if someday ever came, I’d never find them.

I want my house to a place where I can welcome my friends. I can’t do that today. And I want my relationships to be real and interactive. I have no need for drama and gossip in my life. It doesn’t enrich my life or make me a better person.

Why should I even tell you this? I don’t know. Few, if any, of you will even be affected. If I suddenly vanish from your friends list and you miss me, message me. I probably cut you off by mistake. That is not my intent.

My intent is a refocus on what is really important. I saw so many people who I really care about this weekend, most of whom had fallen out of touch. I met their children that I didn’t even know existed. I saw the devastation on the other side of my city where people lost their homes and all their stuff. Nobody cared about the stuff. They were just glad to be alright and able to be together.

I want more of that and less clutter. I want to shoot more, both firearms and photographs. And I want to share it all with the people who really matter. People that are a real part of my life, both online and off.

Am I going to stop blogging? Fat chance, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily! Hopefully, I’ll blog more. I want the conversation. The real conversations rather than the drive by kind. And hey! We’ve made some tasty food that I need to share with you all.