Monday, January 28, 2008

quaint vignettes from my charming rural idyll

I'm up at 4:00 this morning because my Goonybird had a bad dream. The poor kid was cursed with the vivid dreaming gene like I was, and so because I know what a waste of time trying to get back to sleep is going to be, we're up drinking coffee and watching the Disney Channel. I'm drinking the coffee. He's watching the movie.

Yesterday we fired up the DVD player and watched the movie grandma got for Christmas: The Transformers. Grandma really, really likes this movie. Grandma does not care that the critics passed it off as 'just another CGI movie with no discernible plot'. It is about robots and there are explosions and I think it is WICKED BAD. So does the Goonybird. We made so much noise watching it that it chased the Yummy Biker completely out of the house.

My daughter, the Stainless Steel Amazon, and her new husband the Lucky Bastard apparently spent the entire weekend shopping at boutiques, dining on gourmet tidbits and attempting to make me a granddaughter.
I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE it is a girl too. Why? Because then my revenge will be complete.


Today, after I drop the Goonybird off at her place (gaze carefully averted) and scuttle away I have to take the Playboy of the Western World off to a doctors appointment. Why? Because on top of everydamnthing else, the man has a hernia!

How on earth does someone who uses a walker get a hernia?

I may not know the answer to that, but I know how a person who uses a walker gets a bloody nose and ends up taken to the emergency room. Would you like to know how a person in a walker gets a bloody nose and ends up taken to the emergency room?

This is what happens when you get old. Men, take special note here.

One of the Playboy's dinner companions-no, not the Playboy- at the 'still sentient' table had been feeling lonely. Being a single gentleman of modest means, outcall was not in the budget; nor was pay per view. So he decided to take matters in hand.
As he was sitting on the edge of his bed, then, thinking about Lillian Gish, he missed a stroke and slipped. His fist was apparently whipping at such a high rate of speed that he struck himself on the bridge of the nose and broke it.
Blood, helped along by hefty doses of Coumadin, fountained everywhere.
He reached out for the call bell to summon a nurse. As he leaned forward, though, he began to feel faint. He simply continued to lean forward until he landed face first on the floor, the call cord still clutched in his grip. That is how the EMTs found him...passed out in a pool of blood, pants around his ankles, wang waving in the breeze, ass in the air and face in the carpet.

I think this is why my father in law has a hernia. When he told me this story I nearly got one too.


We are planning to go visit my son and his family in March. Having a son continues to be a surreal experience. I now own several pictures in which there is more than one person who is related to me by blood and that too is a surreal experience.
The guy has my sense of humor, God help him.
He is also a dirt nerd. After we had known each other for less than 4 hours we were already having a very frank and open discussion about root aphis.
We are the type of people who have taken pictures of our soil.
He has taken pictures of his soil. He apologized for not bringing them. However, when I visit I will view these pictures. We will use lots of botanical Latin. We will review current sustainable agricultural practices in the commercial nursery business. I will tour his nurseries and look upon his arborvitae and cupressus leylandii. He has promised to save me a stack of trade publications and I plan to spend an evening happily going through them with him. Because nothing says maternal bonding like pricing backpack sprayers, Kubota rootball diggers, and computerized temperature triggered greenhouse ventilation systems.

One thing I find endlessly strange is that the guy looks exactly like me back when I was in my twenties. I now know what I would have looked like as a boy. I would have been DROP DEAD GORGEOUS as a boy.
My son is DROP DEAD GORGEOUS.

...momma ain't lyin. click on it; it's worth it.

He also has three kids and he's still in his twenties; obviously he got the 'repopulate the earth' thing from me too.

The last time I saw this guy he was the size of a loaf of bread. 22 years later he comes back to visit with my attitudes, my values, my interests and my looks. I like him. Of course I love him...but I like him.
That makes two of my kids that I like.
I mean, dang.

28 comments:

  1. Well, I think of Lillian Gish when I whack off, too.

    Genetics are crazy things. Who knew you could inherit gardening? Am I doomed to love yodelling and oompah music? Lord knows I have the fat reserves to herd goats on alpine crags.

    So glad you will be visiting the son, soon. Do report!

    P.S.: It's the waders. They bring the sexxxxay every time.

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  2. danator: really? i think about Theda Bara.
    or no wait, wait, i didn't just say that. I didn't. no no no lalalalala woooowoooolalalala anyway. yes, I'm afraid you are doomed. soon you will begin to season everything with caraway and find yourself polka-ing at random intervals.

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  3. well that pretty much solves the nurture v. nature argument.

    i bet you were/are pretty hawt yerself. post a photo of yourself sometime so we can have a mental image to match the written insanity!

    i'm glad you like your kids. that's a good thing. my mom as often expressed her joy and astonishment at actually liking her kids as well. it's good to be liked. and i like her. and i like you. let's spread the like!

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  4. and hey! what's wrong with caraway!???!

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  5. If you looked like that, you were drop dead gorgeous as a girl. Well, maybe if you did something about the chin stubble...

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  6. FN and danator....funny that I think of Fatty Arbuckle...more poundage to get excited about.

    The poor playboy....I think I shall draw a discreet veil over that one **sniggers a bit first***
    Soil nerdiness must be a dominant gene , do you have some waders like that as well
    ***imagines FN in waders****

    Do they squeak when you walk in them?

    Do they require talcum powder to get them on and off?

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  7. It wasn't gourmet, it was just dang ol thai food! And I am trying to not think about a thirteen year old girl, I am trying to think of a tiny little baby girl that I can adorn in glitter and ribbons and itty bitty fairy wings.
    And btw, Bro (what is his blog nickname?) is 28, not 22. I am 23, soon to be 24. None of your kids are 22.
    But hey, two for two on the kid-liking thing is not bad! Soon you will have 5 grandbabies! WOOHOO! Way to breed, family!

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  8. cb; i just may do that. I have a picture of myself at roughly the same age holding a little statue of Charlie Brown. maybe I'll post it.and nothing is wrong with caraway; its simply not meant to be used in everydamnthing.

    alala: *hides tweezers* shirley, you jest.

    beast: no, it was NOT the playboy. he's the one with the hernia, not the broken nose. and across my wader-wearing habits I must draw a discreet curtain.

    ssa:I thought you were 28. you look 28. i think its all the thai food you eat.
    SHEESH. i was an ENGLISH MAJOR, ok? *snif* gimme a break here! *plucks random chin hairs*
    *which are grey*

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  9. ^^^(WOLF WHISTLES)^^^

    I'd invite him to till my soil, maybe even plant a few seeds.

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  10. A fine looking lad, needs a trim though, who is the guy in the hat?

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  11. Your son could teach Edward Scissorhands a thing or two about presentation.

    And as for TPotWW beating himself senseless over Lillian Gish, all I can say is, what a wasted move. Now, if it had been over Sherrilyn Fenn or Sophia Loren, I could understand it.

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  12. How many children do you have? If you have 2 then you are set....as for the whack off king. Funny story, I think he may need a new hobby.
    And as for thinking about anyone while whacking off???? Prednisone kills the libido and I am saving thousands on not buying batteries. TMI? uh huh!

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  13. Did you have a five-o-clock shadow in your twenties????

    Tell us about the rubber waders!

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  14. he is a cutie-pie. john cena is who is think is hot. *fans herself rapidly* i loved transformers too. but mainly b/c of josh duhamel. hottie hot hottie! (name the disney show i dare you!!)

    you lost me with all the latine veggie stuff.

    i have to agree with da nator - the waders do it.

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  15. he is indeed gorgeous mmm mmmmmmm

    leylandii are illegal here - too big or summat.

    my dirt is mainly horseshit, everything grows like wildfire except what I plant.

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  16. w2: where you been chickie! and hell yes, isn't he gorgeous?

    knudie: george bush. get it, bush? because of the
    never mind.

    sopwith; it was NOT THE PLAYBOY. it was one of the old gentlemen at his table. NOT the playboy. in the case of the playboy we would have been talking about Nelson Eddie or Tab Hunter, anyway.

    gale: wow, it has the EXACT OPPOSITE effect on me. my husband has to hide. but i find him. its like a game. he's usually locked himself in the trunk of the car. i use a crowbar to get him out.

    frobisher: i'm female and catholic; i practically had a handlebar moustache in my twenties.
    no i will NOT tell you about the rubber waders. its SECRET.

    pink: it's very weird having a cute son. the kid in transformers is funny, but cute? i dunno. my son is cuter, for sho. my son, the hot arborist!

    ziggi: send me a plane ticket and i'll do a garden consultation. because of course nobody in england knows how to grow a garden and you'll have to import someone from one ocean and an entire continent away to tell you how. oh, just send the plane ticket anyway.

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  17. I didn't know you need reserves of fat in order to herd alpine goats. See, this is why I love coming here....
    Love those 'small pools of chocolate' eyes btw.

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  18. oh my.

    *books flight*

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  19. hmmm, three children, into rubber, likes to play in the dirt seems to enjoy his wood as well? whats he drive?
    yeah okay, awesome, i'll give ya that one... one more for the nation... so does he know about all of "US"?

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  20. But.. is he single?

    I see the three kids thing, but uh. I'm 27. I like dirt...?

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  21. Ah, apparently Stan Laurel said 'you can take a horticulture but you can't make her think.' I love the 'gardenin' me.

    I'm always trying to grow things that 'you can't grow in England' because I'm a cantankerous bastard.

    Oh, the old boy in the home story made me laugh out loud...

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  22. josh duahmel was the hot marine, not the kid. but yeah, is homeboy single? cause if he is...well, you have been bugging me to visit.

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  23. Did you wear rubber fetish wear at that age too?

    The lad's a looker. No doubt about it.

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  24. WOW!

    Your DNA is strong stuff because You are OptiMUM Prime!

    Speaking of Genes, mine will probably prevent me from ever making it to some orgiastic wonderland of a Home but if I do..
    GAWD I wanna be at the 'still sentient' table.

    I am so happy for you.
    xx oo

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  25. omg FN i laughed so hard when i was reading about your FIL...i actually had tears...it could have easily been my father...*still laughing*

    your son is very handsome...and even in the picture you can tell he has kind eyes...i know that sounds mushy but i mean it...you can see it in them...and in a way...i see part of you in those eyes...even though i have never seen you...some of the writings you have given to us...shine through...

    it always seemed to me that instead of "repopulating" the earth...we are giving back from what we have been given...i am relieved you like your son...that is so important...i like mine somewhat...used to like him a lot, then he started changing and becoming much like his father when i first met him...there wasn't much to be desired there, except he had a really nice ass and i was young enough to appreciate it...and no my son doesn't have a nice ass...so with the lacking personality...he's fucked! i can't wait till he moves through this stage...hopefully soon...if not i'm afraid i will have to "address it" in a most unmotherly way...

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  26. Oh darn it , I misread the bit about the playboy didnt I....or rather not the playboy.
    Silly Beast
    ***punches self in head***

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  27. Maybe your son would like this.

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  28. Oh, I've only been lurking about the last few weeks or so. Anyway, remember what the SSA said about us all being imaginary friends. That said, I got lonely without my pretend friends. It's good to be back.

    BUSH! bwahahahahahahahah oh that tickled me, almost as much as a handlebar moustache...and--wait a minute--did we just--get--a new tidbit of information about the Playboy? Tab Hunter, eh? DOOOOO TELLLLL!

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