A trio of white doors.
Okay, is more like five doors, two not-anymore-doors, three handles, and sixty-six windows — anyone wanna count the bricks?
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.
The trees are finally at their peak and it’s going to be 67 degrees and instead of going to tromp about in leafeses, I am going to work. Y’all, I love my job, is great job, but it is not as good as leafeses tromping through the filtered sunlight of autumn’s trees, k?
Oh I walked in the ones on my driveway last night. Came home, kicked off my shoes, loved my dog, and went back out to fetch the groceries. Papery crunch-crunch under my bare feet. And cold asphalt. So happy!
Maybe I’ll leave work and tromp a bit. Maybe I’ll plant s’more bulbs.
Happiness, I can have it.
Mary shared her One-Liner Wednesday featuring a Mittens meme, and it cracked me up.
I’m so glad my cats don’t text me.
If they did:
Cletus would send videos all day, “Look at me! Are you watching? Mama, Mommy, Mooohhm! Look at me, chewin the ends of this spider plant! Mmm, nom nom! Watch me jump from the top of the fridge and land on the oven mitts! Kerflop! Woot! Look Ma, I’m surfin!”
Clara would send heart emojis and cries for affection, like some insecure girlfriend. “Do you still love me? Can you love me from there? When will you be home to love me? I bet you like reading without my butt in your face, don’t you? I don’t mean it, I’m sorry, I love you. Do you still love me?”
I imagine Catticus might make witty commentary throughout the day. Deeply existential thoughts about chickens and fishes. Snide commentary about the other cats. Seriously derisive opinions about the dog. Ya know what? I’d let Catticus text me.
Happy Friday Everyone!
The doors are clearly marked, but the dogs really don’t care.
I took these near a year ago.
I had things to say about this, and today is the day.
First of all, dogs don’t care about size. If you know dogs, you know it’s true. Dogs have no idea how big or small they are and they’re not sizeist about whose butt they sniff.
There are Teacup Terriers that will bite your ankles off to protect their people and there are Great Danes afraid of their own shadows. I know those dogs.
You know who cares about the size of dogs? Their humans.
I have a medium dog. If your dog weighs as much as you do, then I have a small dog. If you can carry your dog in your purse, I have a big dog.
I did not have Sadie with me the day I took these pictures. I’m glad I didn’t, because there was no medium dog run.
Sadie would want to go into both sides of the dog run, because she is a dog and signs are just things to pee on.
Somewhere out there in the interwebz is someone else who understands having a medium dog comes with certain doggy societal commentary. If I take my dog into the big dog run, people with very big dogs laugh and tell me how little she is. If I take my dog into the little dog run, people with small dogs gasp and pick up their dogs because they’re afraid my dog will eat theirs. Fortunately, most humans at dog runs and bark parks are not these people, but it happens.
For the record, Sadie has played with all the dogs and has neither eaten nor been eaten.
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.
Yesterday, I was rudely awakened before the sun.
My husband’s giant feet in his giant shoes clomp-clomp-clomping around the bedroom.
Then a light.
“What are you doooooing?”
(I’m whiny in the morning, I bet you didn’t guess.)
I don’t know what he said exactly, cause earplugs, but I heard the tone.
He came in again.
He said things again.
“You lost your phone?” I asked. Earplugs.
Then it was just a lot of yelling, probably swearing, and I looked at my phone, blink, blink, distance, blink. I didn’t have glasses on, so I asked, “Does that say it’s 5:49?”
I don’t know what he said, but again with the tone.
Have I ever mentioned what a miserable summbitch The Mister is in the morning? First light, he’s militant and I’m a whiny little bitch and I really don’t know how we’ve made it this far.
There was a bad news text on my phone. It was right there, just waiting for me to wake up. Fabulous. There’s nothing like waking up early to bad news. Why don’t we just turn the heat up to 105 and put some fire ants in my bed, hmm?
The Mister found his phone.
Then we just sat on our bed, maudlin, angsty. Did a lil grooming. Sat on the bed again. We yawned a lot. I chided him for his behavior, he nodded agreeably. Our pets came to greet us. They probably thought it was ‘that one weird dark weekend’ or something.
I made coffee.
I had my blues out, ready to don, but I needed cotton in the worst way. I needed big comfy cotton, so I wore my biggest sweater, a zip-up cardigan thing — kinda creamy colored — oversized collar covers half my shoulders — so roomy it easily adds thirty unflattering pounds to your frame — you’d get one for your granny and she’d love you for it.
I went out into the world and made it through the day but yeah, that was a Tuesday all right.
Wednesday — Let’s shall, shall we?
Bring me the moon. No, I don’t have a lasso.
Can I tell you how nice it is to be alone in the house?
All week, my family said stuff about doing things today and while I heard them, I didn’t actually actively listen apart from the sections which involved my driving. I simply said “Okay” a lot. As today neared, I began to wonder what the hell was happening, but I wasn’t sure I wanted all that in my brain, because as I said, apart from the driving, it doesn’t concern me. Piecing together the taxi schedule didn’t matter to me.
I didn’t sign up for this event, nor was it assigned to me, therefore, I received no emails about it. Turns out more than one thing is happening. I have no practices, no performances, no rehearsals, no parties to go to.
I got the 9am part. Take Moo. 9am. Roger that.
I woke up to Moo, “MIMOM!”
I had been dreaming. My hand shot up. “I am Mimom!”
Moo said something like, “Mmm, eh, heh rmanrmrr bemmhm lrrrrmnm hmmler m” so I took my earplugs out. “I don’t know which one is the gas and which one is the brake so I can turn your car on and it’s cold already and I want to leave in twenty minutes. Are you gonna get up?”
“My alarm is going to go off at 8:30 and it takes five minutes to get to school.”
“I want to be there early.”
of course you do. i always want to be early to my things, too. this, however, is not my thing.
I slept very well. Reports from The Mister include me snoring on his chest before he fell asleep. I remember nothing. I nestled into him and awoke to Moo. I don’t remember putting my earplugs in or fixing my pillows.
I drove Moo to school.
The Mister showed up at home some time later. He said he caused some sorta ruckus when he left the house, and kept asking me if I really didn’t hear him. I really didn’t.
I had a text from Sassy, “I set my alarm. Please don’t wake me. I will get up.”
I know exactly how she feels. Also, so we’re clear, I didn’t even know she was here, because I don’t know how many things she’s doing and I wouldn’t know what time to wake her because I legit don’t know what time she has to be anywhere, only that I have to drive her at several points today.
When she finally did arise, I told her if she got ready early enough I would take her to McDon’ts. She leapt from the sofa.
I got McDon’ts, dropped Sassy off, and gave food to The Mister before he left to do another thing.
Apparently, I have the house to myself for hours and hours. I suppose I should work in my yard and go to the goddamned grocery store, but I’m not shoulding. Can I read? I can!
I wasn’t shootin for a Beatles theme this week, but here we are, A Day In The Life — or a week o’ mine.
…
The Mister began, “Taylor Swift passed,”
We all stared at him with wide eyes.
“Wha?!?”
“Whitney Houston in the number of …”
“Oh!”
“Unfortunate pause.”
“Yeah, really not a good place for a comma.”
“Right? I was like, what the hell happened?”
“Killed like Caesar, all her ex-boyfriends took turns stabbing her.”
“Jesus! She’d be minced if that were the case!”
…
My husband brought me a huge bouquet of flowers. Gotta take the lilies out special, cause pets. Lilies shine on their own, too.
Y’all, last Saturday, five of us Motterns went to my office and we hustled files like it ain’t no thang. We boxed and stored and slipped into shred and although we did some sweating, (except Moo, she merely glistens) it was actually fun. The Mister said, “That was so good family time.” I had to agree. I think, sadly, it had been too long since we all worked on one task together. While I had suggested the boy one be paid as he cannot be arsed to work without monetary compensation, we all received overpayment for our services, which tickled the young people senseless. One of my bosses said she would have had to pay professionals more and it would have taken longer. True. Also true? I REALLY wanted it done. (ie, I would have paid Bubba!)
On Sunday night the carpets were cleaned and on Monday I walked into my office of no files looming over my head and I smiled. Briefly. Heh.
…
There comes a time when you have worked and coffeed and you are hangry and you will cut a bitch if you don’t eat your lunch and that time is 3:28pm. So help me, I will answer the phone with a glob of PBJ in my cheek. I do not give a fuck. Bitches gotta eat. Do y’all read her?
…
I forgot Papa’s birthday. He’s 79 now. Seventy-niiiine. And in EXCELLENT health. He forgives me. He’s got love in his heart.
I miss my parents. All of them.
…
Finally one of the sick people came back Wednesday and when I arrived and saw her car I praised the Lord. She’d be all, “Sorry to bother you…” and I’d be all, “No, no, how can I help?” anything for youuu! What she accomplished on Wednesday allowed me to accomplish so much more and the heavens opened up and the angels sang and when I left Wednesday night, my desk was clear.
Then I found out we get a new hire in next week. Sweet relief!
Just like that, all the tension left my body and the anxiety frequency slowed to a hum.
I drove home singing Skunk Anansie like Pavarotti invited me to.
Unfortunately, we decided to eat Taco Hell for the first time in ten years. One half star, Do not recommend. Cherry Pepsi still yum.
…
My new shoes arrived. They’re comfortable. No one cares.
…
Moo announced, “I got good use out of my shaved legs!”
This makes me laugh uproariously still.
“They work whether you shave them or not, right?”
“I wore my shorts!”
Cracks.Me.Up
…
For new adventures in volunteering, The Mister got certified to drive the multi-use bus. The Short Bus. This has provided us tremendous joke opportunities, but this is still my favorite:
“You gotta pick me up.”
“No. Daddy can bring you home on the short bus.”
“No. You gotta pick me up.”
“No. You will ride the short bus with Daddy.
…
My husband filled Blanche up for me.
…
My husband changed his schedule. He goes in later. This makes him a nicer person. In my bed.
…
“Are you coming home now?”
“Yes.”
“Not going to the store?”
“For what?”
“I dunno. Fings we said we needed.”
“Like what?”
“Dog biscuits, trash bags, croutons, somethin else.”
“If you don’t remember, how am I supposed to remember?”
“I dunno. Be a woman. You remember most of it and then you just send your husband back for what you forgot.”
“I see.”
I asked Sassy if she remembered.
“I had to run a 4:30 to get a B. But first, some back story.”
> insert the long tale of a questionable apple and a subsequent rash <
“So did you run a 4:30?”
“No.”
“Oh no, what did you run?”
“3:45.”
…
On Thursday, I didn’t have time to door, but I did make time for ice cream.
Happy Friday Everyone!
“Stupid bloody Tuesday, man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long…”
I am the eggman! I am the eggman!
Everybody —
Motherfucker, even the YouTube is down! Like I said, stupid bloody Tuesday.
(If you don’t know the song, I don’t want to know. Just… Don’t.)
I’m no walrus. I’m like… prolly some woodland creature. Somethin small and busy and brown. Something burrow-y and … Is there a small woodland creature that behaves as though it’s deranged in order to scare off its prey? Somethin heavily dependent on nail files, Band-Aids, and calendars? I’m that.
Anyway, yeah, I know you’ll probably read this on Wednesday but I’m writing it on the stupid bloody Tuesday.
Do you ever consider your reactions to things are a result of previous experiences? I do. If you find yourself more angry or more sad or more –> *anxious* <— that is me — than everyone else involved, instead of screaming, “WHY IS NO ONE ELSE FREAKING OUT?!?” it’s best to internally inquire why you are freaking out. We carry a lot of old crap, not all of which serves us.
I am freaking out. Not outwardly, but inside. I am experiencing the brain tingles and the skin zapping and the tight band around my head and and and the panicking when I leave home and the panicking when I leave work, and moments of compulsion over proofreading and key-checking — certain I have forgotten something dire.
This morning, my kids. The Mister took them in early to do the things. I stood at the door like, keys, phone, coffee… no, bitch, you did not leave the iron on. you ain’t even ironed.
My dog tilted her head and I tilted back.
As I passed the school, I realized MY KIDS! that feeling of something missing is my kids. who are at school. it is okay. you are okay. i’m okay.
It’s a familiar feeling, the freaking out, and although I am a long-time member, it’s not a fan club.
I did my best to have a good day. I made myself a nice PBJ for lunch. I have abandoned my black uniform for Tuesdays. Some time ago I toned it down, and have moved into navy. On Tuesdays we wear navy. Mentor says she knows it’s Tuesday when I wear the blues. Heh.
Still, I barely made it.
While I was working late and wondering how many days hours I would need to work over to feel like I am accomplishing enough to make up for the absent parties, The Mister asked me if I was also still at work, and whether I was also sad and pathetic?
YES.
Then we exchanged sad selfies
and worked s’more.
I’m going to go make my bed now. Sheets fresh from the dryer. I WASN’T UP TO IT ON SUNDAY, OKAY? That’s what I’m sayin, I’m not myself!
Shh. i’m okay.
Imma make this Tuesday all warm and soft and snugly until it’s disappeared into Wednesday.
Y’all know good and goddamned well that I am not only behind in blogging, but also in reading blogs. Life. Mine is full. Yay. Yay? More like Yea.
Due to staffing issues our office has been just a wee tad bit totally incredibly crazed.
This week kicked my ass.
First, I am grateful I have been spared of sick.
Also, I like this chilly wet weather.
Then, lemme say that I would rather be busy, full-speed ahead for eight hours of a day than to be idle for ten minutes.
This week had so many whirlwinds. I’d sit back down at my desk, and I’d think now what the hell was i even doing before all that happened?
Fortunately, I have been a teacher and a mommy to many in addition to working retail at Christmas and Starbucks in the morning, so I am completely capable of high-functioning adaptation in the face of chaos and confusion. GO ME.
That is my work week.
Additionally, my girls have the fall break. A break for a teenager is the optimum opportunity to squeeze as many fun things as possible into that time. And y’all know there’s no break from athletics, right? Have I made that clear? Who cares if you work, your kid has sport fing for three hours three days a week! Cause break!
Annnd, the boy one came up to visit. He’s good people. We enjoy him. He can drive to his own fun and he comes with his own money and he never leaves hairbands in the shower.
SO tired.
I need to watch a lot of clouds, trees, and television. Oh, and I need to sleeeeeeeep. And remember to eat. And maybe drink a lil.
I’m late, but still I like to make you crack a smile on Friday so I’m leavin this to the professionals.
Happy Friday Everyone! Rest yo brain.
I stole this from Barb-Weena — she does the fun! It was originally called 33 Questions, but they’re not all numbered and I’m not counting.
1. If you lived in a house made of jello, what flavor would it be? Any particular reason?
Blue, because my husband and I could agree to look at that much blue day in, day out. However, I could not be trusted to live in a jello house, for I would eat it.
2. What is your first reaction when someone knocks on your door?
Who the fuck is that?
3. Does a blue sky or blue ocean make you happier? Why?
Blue oceans. While I enjoy a blue sky now and again, blue skies are not my favorite skies because they frequently suggest that I will sweat, whereas the sea has yet to boil me and even when warm, it is refreshing as well as being soothing to my skin and joints.
4. If you were out enjoying a beautiful day and suddenly it started raining, what would you do?
Smile and continue enjoying a beautiful day — Now without crowds!
5. Whose name makes you smile as soon as you hear it? Care to share why?
Um, I don’t have one? Maybe Cletus, because it’s like saying cheese, sorta smiley while you do the “eeeeee” ing.
6. Dog, cat, fish, or rabbit?
For what?
7. What’s your favorite mode of travel?
Pedzing. Ped xing.
8. If you had to stay up all night by yourself in a deserted building, what would you spend the time doing?
Had to? Had to? Am I locked in? Have I no phone? Crying and praying and writing goodbye letters to everyone I love.
9. Running in the rain or running in the gym? (Even if you don’t run! ha!)
Running in the rain.
10. To stand alone on a mountain peak or dance in a crowded club?
Dance in a crowded club. I will assume there’s techno, air-conditioning, and alcohol.
11. Who do you write for?
Me. It’s all about me.
12. Do you judge a book by its cover?
Literally, yes. Figuratively, no.
13. What’s your favorite color? (Specific shade would be awesome…just saying.)
Clear bright white, but it’s not a color, so yellow, like butter yellow.
14. Which animal is smarter: chimpanzees or dolphins?
I have no idea. I haven’t conversed with either.
15. What’s your least favorite part about writing: editing, revising, or proofreading?
Revising. I like to think my vis is perfect the first time around. It is not. I must re.
16. Are there any mythological creatures you believe are real? (Or wish they were?)
I wish they were all real, because life would be so much more interesting.
17. Which ridiculously popular book did you not enjoy?
Usually, if I don’t like it, I don’t keep going — Harry Potter, Anna Karenina — but I read The Goldfinch front to back and I hated the whole thing. Liked the cover, though, tsk.
Do You Prefer / Which Would You Rather questions
Pen or pencil?
Pen
Wine or beer?
Can I not get a cocktail? Wine.
Bean bags or straight-back chairs?
Bean bags
A pile of proofreading or a stack of math worksheets?
I would rather do a pile of proofreading than do one math worksheet. No one cares: I must do both.
Monty Python or Three Stooges?
Monty Python
Barb’s Questions:
I’m not adding any questions, but play along if you like, and HAVE A HAPPY FRIDAY!
joeyfullystated 
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