Dear John

I don't know, have I mentioned how amazing the country home is lately? No really, this might seem like sarcasm but I mean it.

Saturday afternoon tractor pulls. Need I say more? Yes? One dollar hot dogs. I know! It's a hot time in the cool city.

I am hesitant to note it here, but I am a sucker for small town country activities. A good watermelon festival, Plow Days...You know I love me some lumber jack competitions. Rodeos? Hell yeah. Monster trucks. You know it. So you can imagine the 'tractor pull' intrigued me.

So when do they start racing? There's racing right? How fast do they go? Where's the other racer? I don't understand. What exactly are you saying? There's NO racing? As in ZERO speed racing? Wait, why are they mashing down the loose mud? This is becoming extremely boring...

No fire? No burning? No overturning? No revving? No racing? No mud flying? They just sit on a lawn mower and pull some weight? This is the complete opposite of watching grass grow. Now that is a fun activity.

It's a tractor you say? No, that is a lawn mower. The thing mashing down the dirt, that is a tractor. Gosh, you think these country folk would at least know that.

I don't know, have you guys ever considered racing them? I mean some fast track action. Maybe a little healthy competition between tracpetitors. I can't help but noticing we are the only spectators. Maybe a couple Buds with the dollar dogs?

Really? They aren't going to race? Not even a little bit? Sheesh.



Cat Latch

Hey Bitches...sleep with one eye open. Let this be a warning...DO NOT lock my furry fat ass in a closet ever again.

Look Gus. I know you are bigger than most cats AND have 10-20% more toes than most, but really? A closet? You were locked in a room. A rather comfortable room. With a bed. And running water.

Once upon a time there was wall to wall plush carpeting. You didn't even have the nerve to eat what you dug up. You and Parker will make a famous pair!

Did you happen to notice the rather large bag of dog food locked in there with you? Yes, there was a bag of dog food as big as a twelve year old mere inches from that masterpiece you carved out. Do you think maybe you could have clawed your way through that instead of destroying the flooring?

Oh, and you were rescued less than 24 hours after being 'locked up'. I'm not proud of it, but I've locked cats in dark, crowded closets with nothing but smelly shoes to lay on. You don't know how good you have it.

It was an accident. You ran in and never waddled out. It was an easy mistake to make. But there was food and water...you just had to work for them. I know, this isn't a word you are accustomed to, work. I know of a couple of kittens recently that destroyed a friend's bathroom when they discovered how a faucet works. Surely you could have nudged the sink or stuck your nose in a toilet if it came to that.

And work you did. But instead of fixing your problem you redirected your energy negatively. Not cool. A reverse latch hook? This is your idea of art? I mean look at you. I'm fairly certain you lay around for sport. You couldn't just kick back, relax, and wait until someone opened the door? I mean really! Cats.

Built To Last

Exhibit A

The girl called me last week in a panic. She was about to spend money. God forbid. Meanwhile I continue to throw it around like it grows on teevees.

Take for example Exhibit A. This is my new mower. I've retired the old one after one exhausting season. It didn't exactly work very well; you may remember the post about my dad, the mower, and him not producing any YouTube How To videos for a living.

You missed the one about how I tried to give a sewer pipe a crew cut with a lawn mower. The pipe won, the mower folded, and I pulled out my wallet. Yes, I considered trimming the grass with a pair of scissors. It might be more effective for me. Aww Man, and I just got that old mower running!

Instead, I bought a new mower. Little to no research. I saw one in the back of a truck. I said, there! If that's good enough for him, that's good enough for me! I went to Sears, threw down the plastic, and loaded it in the truck. Yes! that IS handlebar tape on the handle and if I could figure out how to affix pedals to it I would. Apparently I sacrified power and comfort for price.

Then there is the girl. She spent weeks, months probably, researching the exact perfect power washer to get. Then when it came down to ordering it she went weak in the knees. Something about price. THEN, she found it in a store. and panicked...What do I do now? You BUY it cheapskate!

I promised her I would wear it on my finger like an engagement ring. She doesn't like that one. It makes me rib her more. Poke. Poke. Poke.

But really we'll get entirely more use out of that power washer than an overpriced silver band of metal. I just read on facebook how one guy lost his wedding band in the forest...the other ran over it with a car. Hey Girl, I dare you to try either one of those with my engagement washer. And I can eat all the cupcakes I want!

Updating....So the other day the girl says to me, I could get a new fridge for $600, OR I could just powerwash the old one. See, this thing is paying for itself already! Imagine what it could do for our 'non-delicate' whites.

Cookie Monster

Oh shit. No joke. Last night I was scared out of my pants. At least I think I was wearing pants...then again, maybe not. I was home alone, late at night, watching teevee. Ah, Home, Late, WATCHING teevee...those words still excite me.

Anyway, I was there on the couch when I heard a disturbing noise. Outside. RIGHT outside my window. I was scared frozen. I don't know if the door is locked. I sincerely doubt a bat mysteriously appeared beneath my bed. I was home alone. Unprotected. With a mysterious noise a-clatter outside.

It wasn't just me. The cat was crazy insane. Like something was OUTSIDE THAT WINDOW. She was in the window, darting across the house, in the other window, back again. Parker please STOP THAT you are NOT HELPING THE SITUATION.

The morning revealed the dramatic matter. A plastic cookie container loose in the yard. Yeah, I suppose that could have caused the disturbing noise the night before, sure. But before you sling your biting judgements...it wasn't just a cookie container blowing in the breeze....there was definitely something UP IN that cookie container.

I'm not saying there was a peeping Tom standing outside my window peering in my personal space hoping to find what I stashed in my panties...all while snacking on cookies...but it COULD have happened. Good Lord, the image of that!

Alas something was digging its nose all up in that plastic container that we know. Parker was...On. It. And she is no Pit Bull I know, but if that thing came flying at me in an open window I wouldn't stick around to lick the inside of an oreo. Dessert destroyed.

Sunday Roll

I know I promised all these blog entries about our upcoming riding adventures, but it turns out the girl can hold her own. Not that that should surprise anyone. I think in some instances she has redirected her emotional energy inward so I just don't know she's dying on the outside.

I, on the other hand, wear mine on my jersey sleeve. Today was just that day. And I have no excuse. I might as well have been riding an Amish bike for as well as we did.

I really think that's unfair to say now that I said it. We finished. We finished within the allotted time in fact. We even placed. Last. Yes, we were the last three riders back in the parking lot. But as you can see, we stopped often to take pictures and eat jelly sandwiches.

Thankfully the rest stops all waited for us before packing up and heading home. The last three stragglers. Out for a Sunday roll. But why then did my legs ache so? Oh, you think I'm kidding? You should have seen the sag wagon circling us like a vulture atop its prey. Patiently waiting for the twitching entree to die. "Okay, die already!" so says the girl; she should totally have her own blog!

It was a 'Rec' ride. I had no idea we would be racing against serious riders. Perhaps it's the lack of hill training we received on the Eastern Shore? I knew that would be back to bite me in the ass. I just had no idea two riders on Elliptibikes would dust us. 72 miles on a StairMaster! But I'm telling you the girl rocked!