1600

Let's see, what have I been doing this week... I've passed 1600 hours on server. You guys coming in on mobile don't see my gamer banner.

I fixed up my MS solitaire with a minecraft mesa background at sunset and a floating autumn leaves screensaver to look like a desolate planet with falling embers while I play. I find it soothing.

Just finished #latenightmovie with the gang.

I found myself content curated into a page on nerf gun sales.

I haven't been on twitter much, but still checking in.

Main thing is we're not dropping too many eggs or chainsaws around here, although we are extra very tired this week. Bunny's mama is taking on extra shifts at hospital, my surgery has been scheduled for Tuesday, and mostly I'm just getting my house in order and my player shop stocked for down time. And naturally, while we're so busy, deer are practically walking up and knocking on the door during deer season. Bunny says Papa can't shoot one.

I think I'll be taking a nap tomorrow.

Mirkwood's finest

Last night's butterflied venison loin buttons, two ways. Mine is the small bag on the right, marinating in canola oil, minced garlic, ginger powder, salt, rosemary, thyme, oregano, and a pinch of smoked paprika. @bonenado's larger bag of butterfly chops on the left is marinating in lower sodium soy sauce, minced garlic, ginger powder, and a little canola oil. The pic makes them look big, but they're pretty small. The reason I'm doing separate marinade for myself is because soy sauce has wheat in it, so definitely allergic to soy sauce. I miss it very much.

Toss each bag (mine first) into a smoking hot pan (I love heavy gauge stainless for this kind of cooking) to sizzle and sear for about a minute and a half on whatever rawness presents itself, just barely cook it, right? Every bite melted like butter.

This one was mine.

This one was @bonenado's. You can see by the fork how small these are, almost like beef tips except this is butterflied loin chops.

And of course I baked a potato to split between us and made my favorite pan roasted brussels sprouts. This is pre-parm.

The secret ingredient is really good balsamic at the end.

I honestly don't have much else today. Had a crazy pain night out of the blue for some reason and even though I slept great once I got to sleep, I'm coming off that feeling like I need to distract myself working on other things.

Day 24- last of 2016 30 day challenge

how I imagine a more realistic Santa

It's still Friday the 23rd, but I'm watching @bonenado get ready for a bow hunt today. It's been one of those dumb weeks where he wanted a tree down between the house and propane tank, couldn't get his new chainsaw going because it flooded so quickly, already had the tree braced for fall direction, was going to tie that to the back of his truck to drag free, wound up taking the chainsaw back to the hardware store to get Paul Bunyun himself to get that first crank sputtered up, finally got that tree down with his old saw, and since I don't ask a lot of questions, that's pretty much all I know.

So when he got me later more toward sunset to peek out our bedroom window at a couple of deer in the yard, I couldn't help pointing out that totally proves my theory- Deer do not care about his scent when he goes out hunting. There he was, out there smelling like a sweaty old guy, gas fumes, chainsaw exhaust fumes, car fumes, whatever else he was doing, did the deer care? Nope. They smell this stuff every day, this is normal around here for them, and it didn't stop the deer from coming right into our back yard. All these fancy scent free soaps and fox and doe pee is pretty expensive, and the more he tries, the lower the results.

Maybe some of that sank in. He's skipping his special shower this morning, eating a normal breakfast with spicy sausage (he usually gets after me for giving him breath that the deer will smell), just casually watching the weather channel and eating in his camo bathrobe before he gets all camo'd up to go walk Mirkwood with a bow. That's his braincation time, leave the ratrace behind and enjoy a commune with nature. It's as close to a real break as he ever gets from real life hammering away, and it doesn't last very long.

I'm going to make that boy an apple pie while he's out. He's been good giving up ice cream, and bite for bite he'll get much less sweet (I can control the sugar) and more nutrition out of apple pie. He's agreed to let me help train him down on the carbs until he gets his fasting glucose down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would hand out nap coupons for Christmas if I could

Now it's Christmas Eve! We get a Bunny today while mama finishes up a long list of to-dos. I like being the stand-by meemaw that helps #allthethings go smoother.

I have very little else floating around my head. I still don't have that new area rug down yet. Plans have changed in the blurs around us so many times that I've decided to wait till Christmas is officially over. I've reached a level in life where cleaning a house both before and after an event is ridiculously challenging and taxing, so as long as I'm caught up on regular household chores, great. I just can't handle a brand new area rug being walked all over on a wet week by a bunch of people who probably won't take their shoes off, no matter how jolly the weekend is.

It's just now hitting 5:30 and @bonenado has already started his chipmunk-squirrel-hamster type bustling around, so it's time to get on the ball and put on my Mrs. Claus mask.

Plz to note the people in the above memes have so far still made it through 2016, and they are frickin' old. Not all hope is lost, guys.

You never hear this on a Christmas music station...

gimme

Ah-HA! My scales are lying to me! Thought I'd step off and step back on, totes got a whole different number. Guess it's time to cave and get a new one. Maybe we're in battery death or something.

I remember when I brought this one home, everyone was ticked that it added 5 pounds.

Not saying it's boring now, but I fell asleep during The Walking Dead last night and missed the live tweet. ~sorrynotsorry~ We'd had such a big day, between @bonenado finally getting a deer, putting the first of the lights up, and getting a bunch of vacuuming and other cleaning done. Here, I'll toss a couple of pix here, heads up for the deer pic.

Ok, keep scrolling so it's off your screen.

K
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WE'RE CLEAR NOW.

Missouri has been back and forth on button bucks (partly in response to some kind of deer disease that periodically sweeps across the U.S. and affects hunting regulations because population controls), but it's still legal and hard to tell from a doe in this level of bracken, even through a scope.

I've about decided I've got a very sophisticated pingback bot looking for a way into Pinky blog. This particular country is very unusual for bot patrols on my blogs, and the last time I had a bot like this was from the Ukraine and it turned out to be an app probing for a hack entry. The only thing I can think of that connects me to France, in a rather strong way actually, is my paper.li newspaper (Pinky Press Review on twitter, auto payments go to a corporate street address in France). They made a big change a few weeks back, restructured how manual controls over content works (I don't like it), and for some reason that change obliterated the embed coding for my blog here, so I just took it out. SO. I'm this close to concluding that they've picked up internet VD of some kind since this big change that is probably ping swarming all their clients now. It started within the last 2 weeks, the same posts keep getting hit over and over like rote every so many hours, and I'm wondering if it's activating in sync with a staff member logging in. The time zone kind of corroborates.

I've been thinking about dropping paper.li for awhile. Maybe it's time to just let it go. I had a good run with it, it was fun to a point, but I can't say I'll look back that fondly on all the content wrangling I kept having to drag through. Maybe I'll let the Pinky Press Review run up through the holidays, and then start 2017 fresh without it.

I just wanna say I have NEVER been bot swarmed in any fashion by SyfyDesigns, and I have links back to Pinky blog and Lexxperience all over that place. Myke has been really tight with his spam controls, and I sincerely appreciate it.

TODAY. Continue the excavation I started in my kitchen yesterday, money and calendar sync, finish up laundry, catch up the dishes, and hopefully keep working on my list thingy. I've been scattered off and on, but haven't been THIS scattered since I went public again. Srsly need to get on the scattered thing with the list thing.

TOMORROW. Physical therapy, psyche guy, and Hy-Vee for CHEESE. I have looked high and low for several different reserve aged cheeses I enjoy, not finding them *anywhere*. The only place left to look now is Hy-Vee. I live in a strange area, between a super church and lots of other churches and a gathering of wealthy families in our touristy-manufacturing-giant retail metro spread and several big feeding the homeless type operations, stores get wiped out very quickly and regularly for upcoming par-tays and soirees, and this is not the first major hunt I've gone on before holidays. And if Hy-Vee is also wiped out, I'll be looking into an actual cheese store, but I know from experience that doesn't always get me the cheese I want. Had a long talk with a cheese guy one year about how this area really isn't into the finer cheeses, and I was like dude, you run a cheese store, get this cheese in and FIND OUT. A good imported aged cheese lasts awhile, it's not like he's going to lose perishable inventory right away.

Kinda reminds me of the year I looked for saffron *everywhere*. We have it now, but a few years back, no one knew what I was even talking about. I was like hellooooo, we live in a high import area, I can find things from Asia many Americans wouldn't even know exist except for food shows, Indian-American professors and doctors abound here, how can you not know what saffron is??? Meanwhile, I could get cactus, tomatillos, and purple cauliflower...

Anyway. Cheese irk. All I ask for is an aged gouda. I was actually able to find it for awhile. It's gone again. Wah and grrrr. Ok, I ask for other cheeses, too, but you know what I mean. No, I don't want your smoked gouda. Who is wiping out all the good cheeeeeeeese???? STOP THAT.



Aged. Gouda. Gimme.

the big deer fiasco of 2009

I'm finally going to share this story, originally titled

A Story of Utter Stupidity

November 22, 2009


This is a story of utter stupidity. But first, the star of the show.



As you can see, this little thing barely had spikes, not even worth the $85 processing fee.

So what makes this little guy worth over $400? Or the price of some rifles, a pickup truck, and bail money?

??????????????

Scott knew better. But he was with G-, in G-'s truck, sitting by the side of the road. Yes, they were going to shoot on land they had permission to hunt on, an old friend of G-'s. However, where they parked by the side of the road, which has been promoted from 'farm road' status to 'county' status since the 9-1-1 road mapping updates, oh, around ten years ago, was also very near someone's house, who happens to own land right across the road.  A very narrow road, tinier than ours. So you can imagine how close that would be.

Backstory. These people who own the house are C-s. C-s permeate the county. These particular C-s ~really~ loathe old man G-. They are very tired of him poaching on their land, and have repeatedly called in complaints to the conservation service, to no avail. They reached a point where they contacted old man R- and gave him a heads up, saying that if G- came near their property again, they'd be calling immediately. So before G- and Scott ever drove out that way, G- *knew* this. But he didn't tell Scott. I happened to find out later by pretending to go over for a pot to put beans in and he just couldn't stand letting an audience go by without spilling his guts.

So while they're out there looking very illegal sitting in a pickup by the side of the road, G- told Scott that whatever he shoots at, if anyone asks later, he was standing by some stumps "over there". Just in case.

So they come rolling in, Scott brings me a heart and liver, calls in his tag number, then we went outside and noticed a game warden in G-'s driveway. The deer was still over there in G-'s truck, thankfully tagged correctly, but Scott headed over, had a bad feeling about it.

G- told the game warden that they weren't anywhere near the truck when Scott shot the deer, that in fact, they had split up, Scott was out of sight, and G- was just coming back from shooting at a couple of deer and missing, and was out of bullets. Scott obviously wouldn't corroborate the story since they were really both standing together near the truck when they both spotted the deer, Scott said he didn't think his rifle would shoot that far, and G- handed him his rifle. Scott shot the deer, went to gut it, and G- swears he helped Scott drag it back (but he never saw him gut it, for some odd reason...). Fortunately, telling the truth won out.

The game warden came this close to stripping them of their rifles and vehicles, and could have even taken them to jail. They practically had witnesses, being in eyeball range of a house with people inside who called on them. However, he didn't even take the deer, since Scott obviously had tagged and gutted it correctly and had already called it in. The game warden had seen far worse cases of poaching, and Scott's name had never come up before. But, yes, you guessed it, because it was Scott's deer tag and because he shot the rifle, he got slapped with a big, fat fine for shooting from the road.

The warden told G- straight to his face he was lying, and G- shrugged it off and kept yapping like it was all part of the game. I heard it all from our back deck, whispering under my breath for G- to just *shut* *up*. Scott finally just walked off and left with him still flapping his lips to the game warden. But basically, the warden told G- that he'd had a LOT of calls on him, and I got the very strong feeling that this was his last warning, since everyone around here knows he's been poaching for years, and how can you not know when he goes around bragging about it.

So I'm sitting there waiting to get that pot for the beans, listening to G's after-version convoluted into 4 completely different story streams all at once. G- was telling me not in so many words that it was all Scott's fault that he didn't lie right like he was told, but G-'s friends (old man R- and another guy he just calls a hillbilly) are going to go locate the deer guts and prove to the C-s that the deer was shot on R-'s land and then create a big stink about the C-s can't hunt deer on HIS land, yeah, I know, hillbilly soap opera, like the Hatfields and McCoys. Anyway, how dumb is that, proving a lie is the truth or something. But also along with those stories were some big concoction about how it all ~really~ went down but you could tell it was all a big lie being woven after the fact to spread around so G- wouldn't be the bad guy, and somewhere through all that came trickling the truth, like how G- knew they'd be called on and still deliberately went back to that very spot in full view of that house and used Scott to get his deer without actually shooting it himself. Stupid man won't show any remorse at all that Scott got stuck with this big fine, won't take any responsibility for the law showing up (blame those hated C-s, HE'LL get even with THEM!), and is so steeped in getting the storytelling set up that he's completely missing what he actually did to Scott. It's not ~just~ the money, it's not ~just~ the setup. He's dragged Scott's name into it now. Scott's forever on record now as being fined for hunting illegally, his name will be known in the C- household for years to come as being associated with the hated old man G- (which means Scott is a dirty poacher, too), and frankly, how can he ever trust G- again. G- played him, acted all innocent, used him in this weird conflicting neighbor triangle, and is passing the blame like crazy.

Scott has reacted to it slowly. I think it's like a shock for him to realize that he got a big punch in the stomach. I caught it all right away, understood the portent and deeper relationship scars that'll come with this, but even with the fine, it took Scott all day long to finally just say that G- was making a bigger deal of this than it needed to be. They have no idea over there now NICE Scott is. He drops everything he's doing in his own life to take care of their needs, is always over there being supportive and helpful, and this is what he gets. What's really sad is that he's already laughed about it to *- and *- on the phone like it's a funny joke, he got fined for illegally hunting from the road. HE is taking responsibility for shooting that deer the wrong way. He's not sitting back spewing at G-, the way G- is spewing up lies and dragging his friends and their neighbors into it.

(Insert note- G is a veteran and has made it through a LOT of stuff, including alcoholism in his earlier years and losing part of a lung to cancer over Christmas one year, which was excruciatingly painful. Please understand this story has loads of complex undertones and that we love G-. This next part is part of the story that was written 7 years ago. Remember, I'm married into this.)

Scott is gullible. He's smart and knew better, but trusting and really thought he was helping his old frail step-dad get a deer this year. Might take a few days, months, maybe even a year or two, but one of these days he's gonna have some really bitter feelings come out about this one. It was so obvious to me that he walked right into a very unloving abusive situation. I mean, what family does that to its own??? He got played. No apology for it. Makes you wonder what it was like growing up with this step-father, going pheasant hunting with him, putting up with his drunken mouth. At the end of ALL this, I found out that G- actually has a deer permit this year... So it's his pickup, his chosen location, his rifle... but he wants Scott to do the deed and use his own tag. After years of actual poaching, this looked like a big production of proving he's NOT a poacher, and dang if he still doesn't have a legal chance to shoot another deer. My mouth fell open. You put YOUR tag on? And HE still gets to hunt some more while you pay this big whoppin' fine???

Speaking of putting up with his mouth. *- showed up at G-'s house Friday night to go hunting around here Saturday. G- told him he could NOT hunt on Scott's land, and said other things that got him so upset that he left actually crying (Gram is really pissed about that one) and wouldn't come back to hunt at all, and *- found out and won't come back to the house. We found out about it, Scott told Gram he was fine with *- hunting over here, and that he'd even go with him. But, too late, G- had already ruined it. So, Scott goes out hunting with G- the very next day... You kinda get the feeling part of G-'s setup today might have had something to do with Scott being nice to *- after G- drove him off? Funny how that all kinda ran together there. Funny how G- manages to ruin lives all around him like that, even when he's pretending to be nice or needy.

I've been watching this family implode for awhile now. Now I'm watching G- get mean, vindictive. Scott and I have already figured out over the summer that he's very angry that Gram has tied up and spent ALL his money on grandkids that aren't even related to him, and he has nothing left to will to his own grown children and his real grandchildren from a previous marriage. He's been angry for a long time about the way Gram fusses over the boys. I can't help but feel he's getting angry that she's leaning on Scott more than ever now while he pouts and refuses to help her with anything. He's been awfully arrogant since he got over being so puny last winter. You'd think someone that old and probably that close to death would be a little more cautious, but he's into the 'once save always saved' thing. He can be as big a jerk as he wants, he's ~saved~.

After all I've been through with my own stuff, and watching my sister go through losing her in-laws, I'm having a hard time watching this incessant stupidity in the G- clan. They still haven't figured out how to love each other, most of them don't even seem to care any more, and all I see is this depressing grinding emotional pain and head games. If I felt relief at my own mother finally dying (and for good reason), how much more relief will I feel when my in-laws start dying? It's an enticing thought. I don't mean to be horrible, and I can see Scott being dragged through all kinds of crappy hell in the process, but really, wouldn't it be a relief if some of the meanness naturally just ~stopped~?

And after all I heard today, sounds like there are a few other people out there thinking the same thing.

(One more note- he's still with us, lolololol. I like this story, I think it's funny and it was challenging to write it out. On a personal level, I was irritated because it happened the month after my mom died, and I used some of her life insurance money to pay that fine. And who wouldn't be irritated being yelled at by their mil to choose a side because this is how people get shot around here, and I totes won saying "I'm on your son's side.", duh. I've said before that our real lives here easily beat Everybody Loves Raymond, and I stand by it. I think I have gold in sitcom material.) (But she's right, people do still get shot around here. Dangerous game G- was playing...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is an example of what my blogging could be like if I wrote about other people's stuff and didn't focus onto my own stuff, story after story after story. Lots and lots of stories. I'm a very typical Harriet the Spy type, and every day is more stories all around me. I used to religiously document what was going on around me and how I felt about it, and over several years, I can go back and see a very typical autism spectrum person dealing with the depression of misunderstandings galore in all directions while everyone, including me, processed through our feelings in very unhealthy ways. Thankfully, so many things hit me funny that I have laughed quite a lot through most of it, even when I was upset. For example, @bonenado racing from the shower to peer naked out a window into the dark when he heard a truck start up- guys, that was beautiful. I actually froze just staring at this wonderful human form completely innocent of his effect on me because he's so in the moment about someone moving a vehicle off the deer path... It's like watching a documentary about a cool and beautiful animal, and it's real and happening in my own house. The pose he struck stretching over stuff to peek out that window- let's just say people would pay good money to see celebrities and porn stars posed like that. Money for fake arrangements, free in my own home. This is the kind of thinking that has helped me appreciate and survive this marriage.

Also, I live next door to a very bored old veteran who loves living a soap opera. He's full of stories himself, but it's misleading to say that since he fixed radios in service and then was sent home for drinking. I struggle with veteran's day... I think a lot of us do, and it's just politically incorrect to say we need help with our severely depressed veterans when we're standing up applauding them for heroic acts that some of them never actually did. But the main thing is, the leaving home and training itself are rough, and the coming home and adapting back are rough. I spent many hours of my marriage talking to G-, swapping pumpkin pies for sunfish he caught in a friend's pond, driving him to town during a family crisis, inviting him into my home for meals and holidays. I actually like him, but it's like he's a stuck recording device. He's locked up in a past that doesn't fit our now, and it's like never the twain shall meet. So he plays games. He's a talker and he knows everyone, and his shadow over my marriage has had me dealing with things as ridiculous as strangers calling me up out of the blue accusing @bonenado of killing their dog and having to untangle all kinds of nonsense, because this guy just couldn't shut up for years, and stuff coming out of his mouth wasn't always the truth. I missed getting a particular job, rather bluntly dismissed, after finding out I was related to this family. Stuff like that.

Choose a side. I chose to stay married in this family. If that doesn't shout to the world what side I'm on, what does?

deer pix from 2008

Random flashback stuff while I look for something.

Ok, this is long, and the code is still kinda screwed but I'm tired. Sorry about the hard to read parts.

11-14-07

Apparently Dad has the scoop on *which day* the rapture will happen. March 19th, 2012. The radio preachers are saying it, it must be true.

So I'm saying Ok, if you're still here on the 20th, I'll bet it's really the 25th, because March 25th is when the children of Israel crossed the Jordan into Canaan.

Then Scott chimes in and goes No, it'll be in September, because Yom Kippur is the only Jewish holiday left that hasn't been used yet in prophecy fulfillment.

Crack me up. Everybody get your bets in!

11-29-07

I decided long ago not to lie to myself.  I'll face my sadness head on.  I think sadness is like the wilderness, lost and forgotten, with no one to care for the land and the trees.  The snow comes and the creek ices over and the birds go silent.  And it goes on for a long time.  Even if a springtime comes and slowly starts to melt some of the snow, it's still so lost and forgotten until something struggles to grow and take back over.  I've been through several winters in my wilderness.  Some day maybe it won't feel so desolate any more.  Maybe I'll feel better and things will grow.

I was actually looking for deer pix. 2007 must've been a bust because I was so sick (per my flurry of Surveypalooza posts this morning).

lol 11-3-08

When people think I 'sit around' on the computer 'all day' and don't get
any exercise, I say Ah, but you don't see the way my foot catches on the mouse
wire when I put my foot up on the little stool under the desk, and the mouse
catapults off the back of the slide out table, and I get on my hands and
knees to crawl under the desk, maneuver around the stool, reach for the right
wire if I can't find the mouse, and then twist around to put it back through the
back of the slide out table, then carefully back out and hit my head, and THEN
settle back down to sit here for another few minutes before I jump up to go do
something else.  See?  *Plenty* of exercise.

Hafta laugh, the advice to exercise was coming from people who had no idea what a horrible year I'd been through. Still looking for deer pix. This was the day before.

Scott pulled old flowers today, and turned the dirt over in the front bed
under my kitchen window.  He came in and got me, and it was amazing.  The
chipmunks had tunneled under and stashed acorns, hickory nuts, and CHICKEN
FEED.  That bed was so packed that we filled a gallon bucket with their stuff
that we sifted out of the dirt, and some of the hen scratch was already trying
to sprout.  So it's not a rat at all, it's definitely chipmunks, and they carted
everything out of Jaizzy's trough every single night quite a distance from her
pen out back to the front of the house.  And who knows how much chicken feed is
stashed elsewhere in other hidey holes.  We have found several places in the
woods and along the edge of the back yard where we suspect they're stashing
stuff.  So Scott was finally convinced to get the pellet gun out, shot at 3
different chipmunks, nailed one of them.  After that everything got real quiet
the rest of the day.  I told him news was spreading fast- "Fred is dead, there's
a big monster stealing the food, and doom is upon us."

And this was the day after.

Another awesome hour out in my chicken chair.  Went ahead and took my radio again, a bag of cheerios, bottle of water, spaced out on leaves falling like snow all around me.  Jaizzy refused to come out when the kids went in, but she ate her little cantaloupe-tomato treat.  She's starting the compulsion to huddle on her nest.  I was thinking about why chickens would develop the need to huddle in the dark when they molt, and I came up with a few things.  They sunburn incredibly easy, for one.  I let her wander out last year and she got so sunburned in a couple of spots that she looked extra miserable.  Another reason they might want to huddle on the nest is so the nest will fill up with soft, warm feathers.  I noticed she was so uncomfortable sitting in the straw last year on her bare skin and the quills poking.  So it's probably an instinct to keep the feathers around in one spot and just stay outa sight.  I really don't think it has much to do with avoiding predators, because I've never lost a naked bird to a critter, they were always fully feathered.  I think they are just so dang miserable and uncomfortable that they can hardly stand it, and it's easier to just nap through it as much as possible because they don't have any other relief.  If you can imagine what it takes for their skin to release several thousand quills, and notice they don't rub or pick them out so it's not an itch that they try to find relief from.  I think it's more like a nerve ending irritation, it just doesn't feel good or soothing to be touched at all. 

One of the number of reasons I disappeared off the internet for awhile. Even when I completely stopped interacting I kept getting poked to respond.

This guy (another crazy Lexx fan) I blocked on email found a way to keep harassing me by dragging a mutual friend into it who is oblivious of what's going on to forward his emails, and then he created a new email address and emailed me again himself, so I had to diplomatically handle that one.  Let them both know it's my last email to him, so if he keeps emailing, that's proof he's harassing me after I told him two months ago I'm done talking about it.  I'm always the bad guy when someone commands me to respond on cue to their obsession with the show and the actors.  From now on, I answer no more emails from fans, period.

I keep getting up to do things, windows open, fabulously beautiful outside. I'd call the day perfect except I keep seeing spiders floating around on silk kites. Staying inside... looking for deer pix...

Got such a nice letter back from the guy who was bugging me, he owned up and handled me being blunt on him so well, then explained he's a teacher who works with other teachers, a people person, and doesn't realize what he does that bothers others sometimes.  He stated that so well that I let him in on me being autistic and even gave him a link to bluejacky, told him he seems to enjoy unique quirks in people and maybe my blog would help him understand some of us better, that it's not personal.  He especially mentioned one teacher in particular who seemed like me, rather blunt and not very good with social skills, but he liked her and kept trying to be friendly.  That's what made me decide to go ahead and share.  I explained briefly the I'm not able to handle being 'friendly' very well for very long, and I withdraw not because I dislike people, but because I feel overwhelmed and can't take any more, and it's possible *- is like me and may not even realize it.  I told him I'd never published a link to that personal blog on any of my Lexx fan sites, so the fan world I feel violated by sometimes (via persistent contact) probably wasn't aware it existed.  So this guy is unwittingly and surprisingly helping me bridge my two worlds, the public and the private.  I told him I realized this was my own personal problem, and that I was attempting to deal with it through the public blog.  So who knows where I'll go from here.  If word spreads through the Lexx fandom that I have another public blog out there, I might possibly be inundated with contact that I'll have to learn to deal with.  I can politely ignore most of it, I'm sure.  It's been difficult learning where to draw the line, learning how to handle different personalities coming through, learning how to handle and accept my own automatic reactions as being 'my stuff' and not provocation from others, even though it's difficult not to see it that way.  Basically, I just have to learn not to internalize other people's personalities and keep it really plain and simple, not get drawn into their weird needy little fantasy worlds.

There we go, that was nice. But still not a deer pic. Hang on.

I wrote crip on the loose but it's public, so not posting that over. The funny vid of me & @bonenado in Hot Springs comes from that post.

Here we go, from 11-15-08. By the way, there's a dead deer pix way down there, so scroll slowly if you don't want to see them. When you get to the pic, hold your hand over the screen while you scroll past it, then you can read again.

@ 7 a.m.

No snow yet, but that blustery wind is pretty cold.  Weatherbug says our wind chill is 26.  Hope Scott is having a good time out there.   

@ 10 a.m.

Scott came in around 9, stripped down so I could wash all his stuff again so he can go out again later.  That's the nicest part of all this man stuff, I get a naked man to look at.  Scott's got really nice legs from all the hill walking and ladder climbing and heavy stuff carrying he does.  I think sometimes about all the people who spend money just to see naked people on their computers and think how lucky I am I've got a premium 3D animated view for free.   

But the rest is so dumb, I can't help laughing at him.  Every year that he goes out hunting, he's obsessed with masking his scent.  We use special 'scent-away' laundry soap, he uses special soap in the shower, he goes out of his way to avoid onions and garlic and making love (although those are dismal failures some years, in which case I'm to blame for cooking and being in bed next to him if he doesn't get a deer), and he used to spend money on stuff like fox pee and buck bombs to mask his scent further.  It gets pretty funny when he comes home smelling nasty because the bomb went off wrong or he dumped the fox pee all over his boots or whatnot.  I like mimicking the deer- Gee, Bob, that poor fox must have a terrible incontinence problem, you can smell every step he took.  Or, Wow, that fox had a lot of pee!  And he came out of nowhere!  Can't smell fox for miles till you get to this tree.  And of course, after the buck bomb incident, I wouldn't leave Scott alone about the bucks tracking *him* down to get some.

So today he comes in all frustrated because it was HIS pee all over everything...  He'd taken a jar to pee in so the deer wouldn't smell it, right?  But boy, did he really have to go.  The jar ran over, soaked his gloves, got on his pants and underwear, and it got so stupid that he just dumped the whole jar of pee and left it there and came home.

Imagine me laughing till tears are rolling.    Yeah, this one tops them ~all~.

I have been telling him for years that if he'd just stop and pee on a tree here or there every time he goes out back there, the deer would be used to it and never even care.  They come right through the yard, for crying out loud.  Goodness knows how many weird smells we have around here between the roofing materials and working on the cars and whatever else.  So I'm sure that when Scott walks around in his 'unscented' gear and weird masking smells, every deer for a mile is going What the crap is *that*?  Deer probably eat wild onions and garlic all the time, maybe they'd like to come see what's up with someone's onion breath.  All he has to do is act normal, and they'd think they were safe here.

When I sit out with the chickens and they make all their noise scratching in the leaves, squirrels and chipmunks and wild birds galore hang around.  Rabbits let me walk within a foot of them, thinking I can't see them if they hold still, because I'm always around, and I never bother them.  I go ahead and talk to the chickens, I do my stuff, and all the critters around here accept it as totally normal.  I'm harmless.  And I'm so safe that my chickens hang around my feet and come running when I call.  Very noticeable.

So I think if Scott would just walk around the woods a little every weekend, peeing here or there, dropping an apple here or there, the deer would figure out real quick he's no big deal.  One year he even had a fox practically eating out of his hand.  So why not the deer?  They come here all year, then avoid us like crazy when he changes the routine, and he still hasn't figured it out yet.

Wonder if the deer are out there right now going Dang, that guy smelled like pee...    Can smell him for miles.

I told him if he could tie a string to Dooney, he could take her with him and she could scratch around in her hyper way and all the critters would think it was safe to come by him because *someone* was sure having a good unmolested time in the leaves.

Speaking of.  Yesterday Dooney and Spencer looked like they'd been mud wrestling.  I was like, What did you guys do, try to dust in the mud???  You're pigs!!!  Their combs and faces were all muddy, their neck feathers looked like they'd half drowned, and Dooney, being white, came off looking filthy, just brown all over.  Their run doesn't have any roofing over it like Jaizzy's does, so the pen gets pretty wet sometimes, but this time they looked like they just rolled in it.  Silly girls.  Guess they got bored sitting in the house all day waiting for it to stop.  I'm sure that got mighty tasty when it came time to preen it all out.

@ 11 a.m.

I know, I just won't shut up, will I?   

I was curious about when Scott got his last deer, found it in photobucket.  This was from Nov. 17, '06.  Nice, huh?  Got some wonderful tenderloin steaks and breakfast sausage out of that one.

Sunday

@ 7:30 a.m.

Poor Scott.  I don't know what it is about early mornings, but once I start giggling about stuff I just can't stop.  There's something about the whole Mighty Hunter thing that seems so cartoony to me.

Dang, *just* heard a gunshot.  Hope that was him.

Anyway, last night he came dragging in a good 45 minutes after sundown, soaked in sweat, completely dehydrated because he hadn't taken enough water (I'm not clear whether he took any at all) and hadn't eaten anything since lunch (which wasn't much), so I threw his gear in the wash again and fed him up, and he started having these crazy charley horses up the insides of his thighs, hopping around and hobbling and moaning.  Made him take a muscle relaxer, practically forced more water down him.

He makes all these big plans and then doesn't execute them.  He has left the apples in a bag on top of the chicken pen for two days now, so they are frozen solid.  Why there?  No clue.  He's Scott.  He lost his bag of persimmons, he says he last had them in the basement.  How do you lose a bag of persimmons in the basement?  I'm surprised he hasn't lost his cell phone in the woods yet.  He hasn't eaten ANY of his preplanned snacks, didn't take turkey sandwiches like he planned, didn't take water because he thought it would make him need to pee, then drags in hours and hours later saying he's getting old and can't imagine pulling a dead deer clear over from conservation land.  ??  He went *that far* without provisions?    What a nut.  I'm pretty sure that's 5 miles one way.

He KNOWS better.  He PLANS for better.  But when it comes down to the wire, he'll tromp out without any breakfast at all, no snacks on him, not even a cup of coffee because it might make him need to pee, and I can't figure out what's in his head that makes him think his will alone is enough to handle hours of heavy exercise in very cold weather with no calories or fluids.  That's how people his age wind up having heart attacks.  And I'd call the major charley horses last night a good sign he was depleted of some major mineral ions.  And then he didn't text me all day like he said he would, didn't respond to my texting or even an outright phone call, and I did everything I could to keep from pacing the floor until he got home last night because he didn't bother giving me a walk route before he left.  No one would have known where to find him at all if he hadn't come home.  He took the Tom-Tom and found out he was only 140 feet from someone's house (can't see through the thick woods), and THAT is where he saw a deer and decided not to shoot because of that house.  Then he goes "I figured they might not have wanted me shooting deer on their property", and I'm like Um, like *you* don't like others shooting deer on *your* property?  Why were you there in the first place?  And then after that is when I found out he'd have had to drag the deer back several *miles*...  By the time you drag a carcass up and down really rugged rocky ridges, I'd say the meat would be pretty banged up.

So I'm a nervous wreck, and I wake up and harass him with everything that sets me off giggling, but at least I made him eat breakfast before he left this morning.  He was so worried he wouldn't make it to his 'spot' before it got light, but he did (he texted me this time).

If I were a guy, and if I were his hunting buddy, I'd be the one with the backpack and camera, peeing wherever I want, enjoying just hanging out, and I'd probably get the deer.  He'd hate my guts.

@ noonish

FOOTBALL!   

My cheese ball turned out really funky, great breath maker.  Mmmm!  Ran some down to Gram.  Wisconsin natives appreciate funky food.

Scott said he saw a big ol' bobcat walking around.  It didn't even care if he was around.  He also saw 4 deer a little over 100 yards away.  He said the biggest doe stood up on her hind feet to smell the air, then turned the group and they sauntered off the wrong direction.  He doesn't think they knew he was there, they never got spooked.  He was pretty weary coming up the hill, but has now revived with a couple cups of water and some funky cheese ball and a bunch of crackers, so he's digging around in the tool shed now, gonna work on the yard and stuff.  Said something about hooking up a heater to his little propane tank to warm up the lawn mowers, and I told him to wait till I get in the house before he blows up because the gas odors in there were pretty strong.  So he started moving gas cans out, guess he's serious.  If I hear a big boom I'll know why.

Took some benadryl, may be spending football zonked on the couch.

Two days later...

Btw, the bag of apples is still sitting on top of my chicken pen.  Wonder if the persimmons are rotting somewhere in the basement.

Quick jaunt into madness.

Wednesday

@ 6 a.m.

Where to start this time.

Dad called last night with questions about EMP technology and threats to the United States (yes, I know, how much weirder can my family and my personal life get), has decided at 78 and no education beyond his 8th grade diploma (back then that was considered a full education) that he needs to learn physics...  So he's telling me what he knows about atoms being made of protons, electrons, and neutrons, and I'm like Ok, miles ahead of you, you wanna know exactly how an electromagnetic pulse works and the damage it will do.  Because he can't understand how an EMP won't simply destroy the world by tearing all the atoms in the world apart.

So I googled and grabbed these pages real quick-

Electromagnetic pulse - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The Electromagnetic Pulse Commission Warns of an Old Threat with a New Face

Read pertinent parts of the report in the second link to him, took a little time getting him to understand what he's talking about because Lord knows who all he is trying to tell that an EMP is going to destroy the world.  It's basically just someone unplugging anything electronic and everything grinds to a halt, and I tried to tell the guy this whole idea has been around with the public for so long through scifi and even 24 uses it to black out 6 city blocks in one season, which crashed a helicopter and blacked on all communications as well, so yes, the public is semi-aware this is possible, BUT.  Trying to convince the guy (who has no access to satellite or a computer or anything beyond 1950's style tv) that our military, government, and scientists have been working on EMP shielding technology for decades (solar flares caused the eastern seaboard to black out one year) because they KNOW that yes, planes will crash, trains will stop, traffic will grind to a halt, all communication and media will be disrupted- is like trying to tell a mouse that yes, we know about the cats...

What he doesn't get is that even a lightning strike is an EMP, yes, we've known about this stuff for many years.  Just because he's finally paying attention doesn't mean he's got the goods on something significant.  But he believes THIS is how the tribulation is going to begin (so many Christian fiction writers have already beat him to this, the guy is unbelievably deep in his cave), we have to warn everybody.  Um, right, Dad.  I've actually been telling everyone for decades that chaos and panic are inevitably coming, don't fall for the classic flock of sheep bolting off a cliff mentality, but Dad shrugs my way of thinking off because he's *determined* this really will be the end of everything.

So now that Obama is president, my dad and I are discussing deep physics, and dang if I'm not the only one in the ENTIRE family who actually cared about all this stuff 20 years ago and have been studying physics all along when everyone else thought I was weird and silly.  No one EVER sat and talked *any* of this with me when I fell in love with it and thought it was cool.  Now he and my brother are discussing EMP threats like a couple of rednecks, and I'm gritting my teeth and staying cool, determined to discuss this scientifically, logically, and share it in a way that is so efficient and concise that my brilliance holds up to the 'big guys' in the field.  If I can teach my ~dad~ physics over the phone, and discuss the political implications, I can do anything I put my mind to.

Here we go, finally! Geez, took forever to find this. After the pix scroll by there are more words unrelated to deer.

Wednesday

Scott said later after he shot this deer, it ran right to him and dropped.  I didn't tell him I prayed this morning for a deer to run right to him so we'd be done with deer season and he'd feel happy about it this year.  It happened pretty quickly after my prayer, I was so surprised to get a text saying he'd gotten an 8 point buck, I didn't even believe it at first, thought he was pulling my leg.  This pic was from his cell phone.

After he texted that it took over an hour to even make contact again, and it was so garbled and he sounded so wiped out that I couldn't tell if he was in trouble.  After another half hour I went outside (weather was nice enough to just wear a jacket and hood), got a walking stick, let my girls out, and slowly descended the rocky hill into the woods.

 

Very treacherous footing, and I didn't know if I'd fatigue out and not make it back up, but the hens all hovered close around me, thrilled to dive into the deep piles of leaves and talk to me about it.

   

Finally saw our Scott coming, a little dot of orange off in the tangled distance.  This is on zoom.  Took a long time for Scott to make it to me.  I had a bottle of juice waiting for him, and he peeled some layers off and took a big break.  The chickens hung out with him, had to check him out in his crazy deer gear, too bad I didn't get pix because it was so cute.

     

Had left the deer just beneath the ridge, so after we all made it back up the hill and he drank a little more, he went down with the cart, got it up to just below his dad's lower yard, then we took the pickup back in there and loaded it up

     

This one had the prettiest face we've seen on a deer, and a little petite for an 8-point.

     

     

     

Scott's step dad, next door.  Army vet, 10 year lung cancer survivor (removed part of a lung), tough as nails, still sawing wood in his 70's.  He was pretty excited, but not in good enough shape to go walk the woods and get his own deer any more.

     


   

Then we drove it to Ozark Mountain Meats (http://www.flavoroflife.com/).  The $80 processing fee is pretty standard around here, and I told them I want one hind roast and one cut into round steaks, one full tenderloin roast and the other cut into butterfly steaks, and everything else ground into breakfast sausage.  I didn't bother asking for burger.  I got so burned out on deer burger last time.  The breakfast sausage has an additional $1.35 per pound fee, but it's about the best I've ever eaten, so I think it's worth it.

So now I've gotta take everything out of my little freezer and repack it all so the deer meat will fit in.

This is a moment I still cherish-

Friday

Watched the new South Park last night (dvr'd it) and lost it so bad when Butters thought he was a real vampire and was sucking on Cartman's neck that I had to stop the show and go wheeze and cough in the kitchen while I tried to stop laughing, crying so hard I couldn't see a thing.  Scott and I go around hissing at each other now like Butters.



Anything else in Novemeber 2008? Stuff still going on in the world of international Lexx fan politics, got lights put up, talked about food... Oh, here's a good one. I was still going through some major nerve fail and brain glitching, for awhile I was unable to count coins.

     Had a stupid experience with the bank.  Walked in with all my change separated into baggies, had my Strong Bad t-shirt on.  Older lady dressed and coifed like top of the line Dillard's looked me up and down with disgust and let me know they don't *do* ~that~.  Teller next to her agreed, even though she had given me cash for change about a week or so ago (don't ya hate it when a worker wimps out and lies about something because they are afraid of a coworker?).  Neither one asked if I had an account there (the other teller knew I did), and before I could explain I needed help because 1- I didn't have exact rolls, and 2- I have difficulty even holding change with my nervous system problem, the older one told me to leave the counter, she didn't have time for me.  I left and called the bank manager, had her look up my 15 year history and the fact that we've been approved for a loan that we're waiting to pick up, and asked her if I had wanted to deposit that money, would they have had to count it for me?  Got a yes.  Told her I felt treated badly like I had come from a ditch with pop can money, and I was driving to a different bank because I didn't want to do business with her ladies any more.  Got a bunch of apologies and the assurance that teller would be spoken to.

Drove 12 miles to my own bank, walked in just before closing, got help counting the coins out with no questions asked, and halfway through I thanked the teller profusely for taking care of me and being so wonderful because 1- another bank refused to do it, and 2- I have difficulty holding change because of the nervous system disorder.  They could not *believe* how I was treated.  When I left, I called that bank manager and told her how much I appreciated that teller, and happened to mention my mom worked for one of their branches since forever ago, and dang if I don't carry a whole lotta clout just for being her daughter.  When that manager found out that a couple of high ranking loan officers/managers in other towns know me by name (and she very well knew my mom's name), I was *family*, and I could tell she was going to gossip to all the other managers about L-'s daughter practically being kicked out of this other bank.  Nice campfire story to go around the region.  We used to do that in retail, too, tell stories about the other stores.  I didn't intend it, but thought it was a funny way to get my stab back at the first bank.  If they'd only known, I might have been treated very well, but Scott couldn't believe I was talked to like that, either.  I'm nearly 50 years old, I have a crippling illness, I have an established history, and they treated me like some loser off the street because of the t-shirt I was wearing and the fact that I was carrying coins in sandwich bags.

I learned long ago on my jobs never to assume anything about customers.  I've met millionaires in junky clothes, hobnobbed with people related to my boss, taken care of people I had no idea could crush me like a little mosquito.  But I've been through it all, been on both sides, and I was so good that I was put in the Christmas return line for years to handle irritable customers, because most of their stuff didn't bother *me*.  I don't take stuff personally ~unless~ I'm in a lot of pain myself, and if I can trank up on pain pills, I'm good to go.  I *know* life is hard and it sux, and in spite of the way I've been treated on my jobs, I understand that the people in front of me have headaches, may have lost loved ones, might be dealing with cancer or divorce, you *don't* *know*.  I don't normally call and complain on anyone who gives me bad service because I understand we all have stupid days, but there was no call for that lady treating me like I was dog poop she didn't want to step in.  In this golden age of American mainstream Christianity, there is no way I will tolerate a 'nice' lady treating me badly when it's her ~job~ to take care of me.

I don't go around saying this very much, but I really have met some interesting people. I remember years ago there was a guy who handed me a notebook full of CD copies of original computer code he'd written just for being nice and talking to him at a hotel desk. Guess what- that was the guy who wrote all the code for remote home control, you know, like not even being in your house and being able to send commands from your phone to turn things on and off, and not just electronics. He explained to me way back then that he could even tell his bathtub to start filling up. Everything in his house was wired for remote command. We take it for granted now. Same hotel, met another guy who turns out is a millionaire who sells top of the line hand crafted horse gear internationally. He offered me a job, I turned it down. I could have flown all over the world. I've been offered several cool jobs and opportunities, but I never told anyone why I never took them. No one ever knew I was faking being ok.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and write down all the stuff I've been so lucky to know, or the people I've met. I was barely holding it together back then, faking being able to work while cobbling a fansite together in my spare time. No one ever knew the amount of pain I was in or the level of brain fail I'd been through. Now I'm home all the time, still recovering and getting better, meeting awesome people on the internet. I know everyone's depressed about stuff they can't control, but it helps a lot to focus back on our own lives in the here and now and see all the things we've done and still want to do.

Scott is planning on going out after a deer tomorrow. If nothing else is going on with my morning, maybe I'll look for deer pix from other years.

One more thing from November in 2008.

Got hold of --- in Russia last night and told her I'm giving her the rest of my Lexx stuff, except the actual shows.  Get the stuff out of the States where the fans and one of the actors are at each others' throats about copyright, yet still illegally selling licensed product, get it into a country where no one can touch it and the fans can start freely sharing without all the nonsense and fighting.  Of course, they fight over there, too, but they have no access to the stuff we do here.  They literally have to beg fans online to send them autographed pieces of paper from conventions, and I was the only one who took care of the Russian fans and made sure they got some stuff, and for free at that.  I've decided, since I am purging my life and putting a stop to all my stresses, that my Lexx stuff must go, too.  I can't make a move here in the States without making some really big enemies, so it's going to Russia and they are going to execute the plan to free Lexx to the world.

That sounds more dramatic than it actually was. None of us foresaw Brazil running with it... lol.

I really need to walk away from this now. I'm kind of in a spacey place.