joeyfullystated

Where to begin…
At the beginning?
Who can determine a beginning? Everything always leads back to something else.

Sassy’s four friends were here for what must have been weeks, but it probably only seems that way because the sun’s up more. We said she could have all the friends over because she’d be gone and she’d miss her friends.
Why? Where’s she goin?

You wait.

While Sassy’s friends were here, Shay said, “Stop talkin about this other Shay, or at least call her the other Shay.” I said we could not, as we had Moo’s Shay first, and that makes her Shay One, and the Shay in question was in fact, Other Shay.
Do y’all have this, too?
I’m a name person. I think you find out how much a name person you are when you’re trying to name your children. That’s when I got into names. I’m not gonna delve too deeply into that, cause we all have names, and y’all might get offended if I say Daniels have caused me nothin but grief, and Angelas never like me. I will say, I’ve collected a disproportionate amount of Aprils and Robs in my life, and if you’re anything like me, you should aim to befriend as many Aprils and Robs as you can. Oh, and Jasons make the best lovers. If a Jason isn’t possible, try mechanics and musicians.
Anyway, it occurred to me that Sassy’s friends are like Sassy — and Moo has friends with Moo kinda names. Like, one is called Kitty.
Intriguing, non?

On Thursday, we received a notice taped to our door. The City would like us to mow our back forty.
The City should go suck a dick.
I checked the fucking ordinance and can you believe this is a completely valid request? Nothin special bout not the street side. We have lived here four years and not only have we seldom mowed the back forty, but the entire time we’ve lived here, the field adjacent to ours has NEVER been mowed.
But laws are laws. *sigh*
It’s like The City cares more about how things look that the lives of rabbits, birds, butterflies, and bull thistle. *tsk*

back 40’s major population

Then on Friday, Sassy baked 72 white cupcakes, while I made banana pudding, cucumber and tomato salad, blue cheese tater salad, and sliced watermelon into dainty little triangles. The Mister hacked the watermelon into quarters, because he is a good man who enjoys anything involving sharp implements. Seriously, someday I’ll have to post about his blade accumulation…

Then Saturday morning, I got up at what other people call ‘a reasonable hour’ but what I would call UNHOLY. I was whining and shuffling my way down the back hallway when Master Boombastic came to the door all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the way morning people do. My husband was errant, having decided to shower, and was not available for climbing and cuddling as needed. I was already clean and so Moo hugged me, but it was not the same. I managed to make some decadent icing for the cupcakes. Of course, I was sleepy and disoriented, so I spun the butter and lemon around for quite a long time before I remembered to put sugar and cream cheese in it. I kept looking at it and thinking, gosh it’s not very much and it’s awfully yellow…OH! But that’s our secret, I didn’t tell anyone else that. I wasn’t awake.
Tra-la-la, icing cupcakes did improve my mood and Master Boombastic said, “You seem much more yourself now.” Once people have seen morning me, they can’t unknow it. A moment of silence for those who have sacrificed.

Off we went to the middle of nowhere. I guess reunions must be held in the middle of nowhere on accounta how people who live in the middle of nowhere don’t like to drive on four or six or eight lanes, but it’s so farrrrr. Mercy it’s far.
We had SUBLIME weather. The skies were amazing. I wanted to get out and watch the clouds, but I didn’t. I was the navigation splainer and the DJ after all.

clouds in three parts

in case you think indiana is completely citified, hahaha!

Clouds are one of those things I just can’t capture as I see them. The density was amazing and the way their shadows played on the hills and trees…

I saw ALL the people.

I hugged most of the people. I’da hugged a few more if I’d known who the hell they were, but if you can imagine, people grow up and they look every bit as old as I do.
The boy one DID go, with his auntie and Simon, and over lunch we talked about how there’s some bullshit playin favorites in this house. First it was how we favor Bubba. You may recall how the girls said he’s our favorite because we treat him like an adult. Now Moo says Sassy’s MY favorite and she’s DADDY’s girl. Whatever. I’ve been fightin this favorite child business far too long. My favorite varies from day to day, sometimes moment to moment. I’m just sayin.
Well Sassy asked her auntie who she thinks my favorite child is and without blinking, Drew answered, “Simon.”
Yes. Simon. Always minds me, always a pleasure, never asked me for a pony or a pool or caused me worry in the night. Nephews are the cats of children.
Although, to be fair, Simon did outright bully me over the cheap slowness of my precious laptop, but then, dimples, awww!

Granny called me over and asked me to send her letters like I used to. I must write Granny letters like I used to.

Aunt Marthanne was not feeling well enough to make the sugar cream pie I love, and she came up and told me so. MIL told her I missed the pie. Well, I hope she went on about how much I loved the pie, cause I sure did. I told Marthanne that I hoped she’d be feeling better soon, and not just so she could make that pie, which is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever put in my mouth.

People ate up the banana pudding. All gone pudding.
I sent watermelon and potato salad home with Bubba. I told him if he slipped a lil ham or turkey in there, he’d have a balanced meal. And then The Mister said I sounded like someone’s mother. Can you imagine?!?
The Mister never put the cupcakes in the car. We can speculate as to why that might be, but these things happen, and he claims it was purely by mistake.

Today I took Sassy shopping for her trip.
Why? Where’s she goin?

You wait.

I hate shopping and shopping for Sassy is a challenge I dare any one of you to take up. Seriously, I’ll pay, you go.
Moo may not think Sassy is my favorite today. In fact, Moo warned her father that he should never, ever go Sassy shopping with Mama. This did not surprise him.
May I just say Moo is the best one to shop for? The best. So easy.
*finds a fing*
“Look this so cute!”
“SO CUTE!”
*buys fing*

While Sassy and I drove one another to lunacy and the baby tried on her peacemaking skills, THIS is what The Mister did:

Now, I done told him to call someone out to do it, but he’s a proud man, and we all know no one listens to their Joey.

Tomorrow I will get up at a time no one thinks is reasonable.
All this to encapsulate the reason why I’m posting a blog on Sunday night and why I’ll be later rather than sooner.
I’ll be off, doing too much.
You will, being the thoughtful, kind, caring audience you are, wish for safe travels and hope my body will not notice that I am doing so much.

Also, this, my basketball hoop, is for E.

For I do excel at nonsense and blurry photos.