Coffee black, cigarette, start this day, like all the rest...Man that Don Williams can really sing a tune can't he? Anyhow, I've been remiss at writing lately. Been busy you know. I have a lot to catch you up on. Let's see...hmm well my promotion to Major came through. Maybe you heard, maybe you didnt. Yeah, I'm on leave this week and I've got to coordinate a time next week to pin it on. Effective date of 26 April 2012. So, we got that goin' for us, which is nische. What else? Well you may or may not know we took a trip up to the lot this past weekend too. Hey, hold on, let me start another paragraph...
OK, that's better. Yeah, so we went up to the lot on Sunday after church. I've been doin' my best to be available and in the pew whenever I can. It's part of my new agreement with the Lord. I go to church and do good things, and he keeps me outta hot water. So far so good anyhow. Anyhow, you know I'm teaching the 11 year olds. They're good kids. Josh promoted out of my class into the Young Mens' Program. He's passing the Sacrament and everything. Even went to, "Youth Standards Night" last night. Wore a tie and everything. Big accomplishment for a kid who will wear the same ugly pair of orange shorts to school eleven days in a row if you'd let him.
So, we went up to the lot as I told you. Well my little solar experiment worked like a charm. My 90 watts of power panels were just pumpin' out the juice to our battery pack. Full battery after three weeks of inactivity on our part. Anyhow, ohhhhhhhhhh the best part! So the neighbors, the Neilsons, or Nelsons, or Nielsons..anyhow they have a lot a couple over from us. They came by on Tuesday and notified us they're serious about building up there, and that they're going to connect to the Fruitland water (7800 bones) and they would be willing to sell us there Young Water ($3K) So, that doesnt even require a septic connection simultaneously. So, see? Paying your tithing does pay off.
So we also played a little paintball up there in the rocks. Josh, Lexi, Isabelle and I. Only, we only have two pressurized guns. So I had to use a slingshot to fire back. I totally got my butt handed to me. I have a big bruise on my forehead to prove it too. Josh is a good shot, in fact, he's a better Soldier than a fat old Major that's for sure. I have bruises all over my back and arms and everything to prove it.
So anyhow, you're up to speed. I'm just doin' ma thing. Doing my best to stay outta trouble and live that virtuous life I promised ya'll I would.
OK, hey I gotta run. I've got to figure out why this sprinkling system isn't firing up on valve number two. Yeah, rivetting stuff huh?
OK, anyhow, I gotta run.
Hugs 'n Kisses and whatnot.
J
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
The Perfect Daddy...
So, today I decided I would surprise Stacey and come home at lunch time and take the rest of the day off. Then I also decided, since I have 74 days of unused leave, I'd take tomorrow off as well. So, I got home around noon, after stopping at Lowe's to pick up some hardware to hang that heavy bag I told you about. Or maybe I didnt. Anyhow, the point is, I had to pick up an eye-bolt and some S hooks to hang this 80lb bag up in the garage so I could hit it. Well, so Stacey and I could both hit it. We found it, quite brand new, at the D.I. the other day when we were looking for sombreros for the Cinco de Mayo party. Anyway, so my dad meets me at home, and we hang the bag.
About that time, Stacey comes out with Samuel in the stroller, and Olivia all fresh-faced and cute, and starts looking over at the Stroup's house, where there's this giant pile of topsoil/mulch and starts weeding. Well, so she sorta hints around she could use some help putting this topsoil in. So, I figure it's a great day to work in the yard, so I go up and change and start helping. Well, about the time I get the second load of soil brought over, Stacey informs me she has to leave to take Samuel to a dr's appointment, because she thinks he has a sinus infection (which he did). So, I'm left with Olivia. About forty five minutes later, after I've been in the house six times to get her a treat, or a cookie or whatever, she says she's cold, and she want some, "pink milk" which really means Nestly Quick in a sippy cup. Plus she says she's tired, and wants to watch Shaun the Sheep. Which, I tried to switch out with, "Big Papa" with Adam Sandler, but she wasnt havin' it. So, about three episodes into it, I start to dose off. Well she starts coughing, and coughing. She has post-nasal drip from whatever Sam cought from Lexi who cought it from ???. Yeah, so, here we go. Well our kids, they cant just cough, no, they have to puke too. So, I try to settle her down, and pretty soon, three volleys of chunky pink curds comes up over me, her, the bean bag, her blankey, and my brand (new) Nike golf shirt I picked up at the D.I. the other day.
So, I strip her down, put her in our shower upstairs, and go outside to start collecting up rakes and shovels and all the other crap I had to drag out of the garage to hang the bag, and then start work in the flower beds. Pretty soon, well about three minutes into it, I am again startled to hear through the open front door, Olivia screaming bloody murder. So I bolt up the stairs, almost break an ankle in my ridiculous dork sandals that seemed like a good idea working in the sun, and find her up in the shower. She's screaming, because of the turds, which someone??? just left lying about in the shower immediately at her feet. So, she's screaming and screaming, coughing, and now poopy, and I grab a towel to get her out.
So, she's standing there, telling me all about the poop, while I pick it up with some toilet paper. So, I commence picking up the poop, and send her away onto the bed. When I return to the bed, she's shivering under the running fan. I turn it off, and go get some wipes and a diaper, and...wouldnt you know it? poop on the towel. So the towel goes in the dirty clothes, and I put a diaper on her, and start walking down the hall with her, to have her pick out some new clothes. Only, she's walking shuffle steps down the hall and I cant get her to speed up or find any reason to stop being cold. So, I try to move around her in the door, but the dirty clothes hamper, along with the nightlight (on) and the five giant princess paint your face laboratories are in the way. Along with, the five, yes 5, giant tubs of clothes, that my loving wife brought up to take up any available floor space that might be left in the kids room. So, my daughter, the impossed hoarder, now can't get to her dresser, in the room she shares with her sister, because we cant move or get around her. So, I start getting pissed at this point. I go over to her drawer, pull it out, and the mutha....puss...bucketin' drawer bottom falls out. This fiber-board dresser we have, has never worked correctly once, so I leave her in the room, NOT looking through her clothes, determined I'm going to fix this ONE thing before I find one more thing wrong. Oh, I neglected to tell you that in the bathroom, we have no water stop, because I haven't had a chance to replace the one that rusted through. So, who knows what's down in the P trap right now....
Where was I??? Oh, so, anyhow, I go down stairs, three stairs at a time, and out to the garage determined to fix this drawer and the one thing in my life which I might even be able to take control and actually fix. So, in rummaging through my tool chest, I have now determined, that in addition to a tape measure, a good set of standard screw drivers, and a 1/4 socket driver and adapter, I am NOW short a hammer. So, I start rummaging through the tool box on my truck and find a hammer. BACK to the drawer, and pull the 1/4 flimsy bottom out and go looking for my wood glue. WHICH, miraculously, I find! So I twist the top on the glue, and try to get it out, only it's sealed shut. So I take the top off, start jabbing the inside of it out with a phillips screw driver (the ONE I COULD find) and to no avail. So I take the screw driver, slop on as carefully as I can this wood glue into the groove of the sides, back and bottom of the drawer (and my pants, my left hand, my shirt (which has pink puke on it) and go looking for the three little baby girl nails that obviously tore through the last time. I reposition the nails, slop it all back togther, somehow avoid crushing the drawer out of sheer frustration, and now it sits in the garage drying, because the whole inside back of the drawer is covered in wood glue, which should be dry around eight pm tonight.
Oh, I neglected to tell you, that the five boxes of clothes that came out of the basement three weeks ago, yeah, I hurled those sunsabeaches over the railing onto the floor and into the middle of the front room. Yeah, those eithe go to the D.I., or they go back into the basement, but I'll be damned if I'm going to hear someone frustrated at the kids the next six weeks because they wont pick up their cluttered rooms.
Anyhow, Stacey just showed up with my medication. A nice 44 oz soda full of Diet Luv. Anyhow, I gotta go be nice now and help pick up the three foot tall pile of clothes I made before I can rant and complain again. You know, part of the solution, and not part of the problem and all.
Anyhow, there you have it. I'm home for three hours, and I'm already the worst dad that my kids ever had. Sam's back from the dr., he has a sinus infection and it's moving down into his lungs. So, it seems that my entire full day off tomorrow, may just be equally stellar. Right now, I'm planning on getting the ATV running, put two new tires on the adult bikes we were given, put the winter stuff in the shed, and if all works out, maybe even exercise. I'll give you ten to one I get one tire on, and make three trips to Napa to get the four wheeler not working before I have more to tell you.
Anyhow, I gotta go. Love and hugs and all that.
Worst dad (and husband) ever,
J
About that time, Stacey comes out with Samuel in the stroller, and Olivia all fresh-faced and cute, and starts looking over at the Stroup's house, where there's this giant pile of topsoil/mulch and starts weeding. Well, so she sorta hints around she could use some help putting this topsoil in. So, I figure it's a great day to work in the yard, so I go up and change and start helping. Well, about the time I get the second load of soil brought over, Stacey informs me she has to leave to take Samuel to a dr's appointment, because she thinks he has a sinus infection (which he did). So, I'm left with Olivia. About forty five minutes later, after I've been in the house six times to get her a treat, or a cookie or whatever, she says she's cold, and she want some, "pink milk" which really means Nestly Quick in a sippy cup. Plus she says she's tired, and wants to watch Shaun the Sheep. Which, I tried to switch out with, "Big Papa" with Adam Sandler, but she wasnt havin' it. So, about three episodes into it, I start to dose off. Well she starts coughing, and coughing. She has post-nasal drip from whatever Sam cought from Lexi who cought it from ???. Yeah, so, here we go. Well our kids, they cant just cough, no, they have to puke too. So, I try to settle her down, and pretty soon, three volleys of chunky pink curds comes up over me, her, the bean bag, her blankey, and my brand (new) Nike golf shirt I picked up at the D.I. the other day.
So, I strip her down, put her in our shower upstairs, and go outside to start collecting up rakes and shovels and all the other crap I had to drag out of the garage to hang the bag, and then start work in the flower beds. Pretty soon, well about three minutes into it, I am again startled to hear through the open front door, Olivia screaming bloody murder. So I bolt up the stairs, almost break an ankle in my ridiculous dork sandals that seemed like a good idea working in the sun, and find her up in the shower. She's screaming, because of the turds, which someone??? just left lying about in the shower immediately at her feet. So, she's screaming and screaming, coughing, and now poopy, and I grab a towel to get her out.
So, she's standing there, telling me all about the poop, while I pick it up with some toilet paper. So, I commence picking up the poop, and send her away onto the bed. When I return to the bed, she's shivering under the running fan. I turn it off, and go get some wipes and a diaper, and...wouldnt you know it? poop on the towel. So the towel goes in the dirty clothes, and I put a diaper on her, and start walking down the hall with her, to have her pick out some new clothes. Only, she's walking shuffle steps down the hall and I cant get her to speed up or find any reason to stop being cold. So, I try to move around her in the door, but the dirty clothes hamper, along with the nightlight (on) and the five giant princess paint your face laboratories are in the way. Along with, the five, yes 5, giant tubs of clothes, that my loving wife brought up to take up any available floor space that might be left in the kids room. So, my daughter, the impossed hoarder, now can't get to her dresser, in the room she shares with her sister, because we cant move or get around her. So, I start getting pissed at this point. I go over to her drawer, pull it out, and the mutha....puss...bucketin' drawer bottom falls out. This fiber-board dresser we have, has never worked correctly once, so I leave her in the room, NOT looking through her clothes, determined I'm going to fix this ONE thing before I find one more thing wrong. Oh, I neglected to tell you that in the bathroom, we have no water stop, because I haven't had a chance to replace the one that rusted through. So, who knows what's down in the P trap right now....
Where was I??? Oh, so, anyhow, I go down stairs, three stairs at a time, and out to the garage determined to fix this drawer and the one thing in my life which I might even be able to take control and actually fix. So, in rummaging through my tool chest, I have now determined, that in addition to a tape measure, a good set of standard screw drivers, and a 1/4 socket driver and adapter, I am NOW short a hammer. So, I start rummaging through the tool box on my truck and find a hammer. BACK to the drawer, and pull the 1/4 flimsy bottom out and go looking for my wood glue. WHICH, miraculously, I find! So I twist the top on the glue, and try to get it out, only it's sealed shut. So I take the top off, start jabbing the inside of it out with a phillips screw driver (the ONE I COULD find) and to no avail. So I take the screw driver, slop on as carefully as I can this wood glue into the groove of the sides, back and bottom of the drawer (and my pants, my left hand, my shirt (which has pink puke on it) and go looking for the three little baby girl nails that obviously tore through the last time. I reposition the nails, slop it all back togther, somehow avoid crushing the drawer out of sheer frustration, and now it sits in the garage drying, because the whole inside back of the drawer is covered in wood glue, which should be dry around eight pm tonight.
Oh, I neglected to tell you, that the five boxes of clothes that came out of the basement three weeks ago, yeah, I hurled those sunsabeaches over the railing onto the floor and into the middle of the front room. Yeah, those eithe go to the D.I., or they go back into the basement, but I'll be damned if I'm going to hear someone frustrated at the kids the next six weeks because they wont pick up their cluttered rooms.
Anyhow, Stacey just showed up with my medication. A nice 44 oz soda full of Diet Luv. Anyhow, I gotta go be nice now and help pick up the three foot tall pile of clothes I made before I can rant and complain again. You know, part of the solution, and not part of the problem and all.
Anyhow, there you have it. I'm home for three hours, and I'm already the worst dad that my kids ever had. Sam's back from the dr., he has a sinus infection and it's moving down into his lungs. So, it seems that my entire full day off tomorrow, may just be equally stellar. Right now, I'm planning on getting the ATV running, put two new tires on the adult bikes we were given, put the winter stuff in the shed, and if all works out, maybe even exercise. I'll give you ten to one I get one tire on, and make three trips to Napa to get the four wheeler not working before I have more to tell you.
Anyhow, I gotta go. Love and hugs and all that.
Worst dad (and husband) ever,
J
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)