Wednesday, June 28, 2006

I'm In Love With These Pussy's

I'm feeling better after my track workout. Maybe I needed to work up a really big sweat. I did 5x800 w/2 min rest. My 800's were around 3:46-3:50.

I probably caught your attention with the title, it's another "momism". My mom will call kittens "Pussy Boys". In our family, we talk to our animals in a high pitched squeaky voice. On Monday, I met my mom at the gym. She is trying to lose some weight. I try to help by meeting her there on Monday's and Friday's and doing the elliptical with her for 30min. On Monday morning, after our workout, she was going to come over and see the kittens. She got all excited about it because she loves cats. She screeched out in her squeaky animal voice, "Pussy Boys! Pussy Boys! I can't wait to see the Pussy Boys!". Ummmmm, Mom? Let's not yell about pussy in the gym, okay? All the cardiac rehab patients are looking at you!

I'm know I've grown to be like my Mom and I love her dearly. I screech out in the animal voice(But the G rated version), "Come here you little kitties!" when I walk into the closet. That's were the box is and Mrs. Kitty wants them to stay there inside their crib. They want to explore.

They scream at me to take them out. I listen and take them all out, they enjoy crawling around and you can watch different personalities form. Mrs. Kitty probably wants to puncture my retina with her claws. She probably feels like she's going to have brain overload trying to watch five babies. When she's had enough, she'll try to carry them back to the box. I'll pick them up and return them to the box in the closet. You can see her in the next picture still in the box wondering why all of her babies are out roaming around.

Cracking Under Pressure

Can someone spare some happy pills? I've been in some kind of funk ever since Sunday's race and I can't seem to snap out of it. I almost started breaking dishes when I woke up this morning and had no milk for coffee. Melt-down city. I don't want to talk to people and they probably don't want to be near the she-devil either.

I wonder if I have been training too hard. I'm going to cut back on the weight lifting. I think I may be physically tired all the time. I took yesterday off and rented The Million Dollar Baby. It was a good movie.

I swam this afternoon, first time since the race. I wanted to time myself to make sure it doesn't really take me 10:30 to swim 375. I swam 100's in 1:30 but it didn't lift the dark cloud following me around. I have a track workout tonight. Maybe if I get the endorphins really pumping I'm be back to my normal self. Pray for my husband, okay?

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Kure Beach Split times

There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure.-- Colin Powell

This race really has played head games with me. It's left me with shaken confidence and feelings of self doubt. It's ironic because I was looking forward to this race and I thought it would be fun. I thought if any race of the season would shake me, it would be the Half at White Lake.

I guess what really bothers me is I felt like I went in prepared, I have been working hard. My times don't reflect those training hours. I'm so disappointed with my swim, I am ashamed to post the time. I guess I must learn something from this failure but I'm not sure what the lesson is yet. Right now, I don't even feel like training.

Swim 1-(375 meters) 10:02 47/85 overall
I really don't want to talk about it.

Run 1 including transition (1.5 miles) 16:02 41/85 overall
I don't know what to say again except I think I could walk faster but I was actually running.

Bike(20K) 34:21 16/85 overall
If my bike time had been bad, I may have sold Falcor. I couldn't stand the thought of tarnishing his reputation. My actual time was probably even faster since it includes the transition.

Run 2 (1.5 miles) 15:42 32/85 overall
I really felt like I was running.

Swim 2 (375 meters) 10:30 51/85 overall
Did I tell you about the cabana boy that brought me a Pina Colada while I was floating on my raft?

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Kure Beach Race Report

The morning started at 5:15 am from a knock on the door from
Freeze! A group of tri-friends stayed at her parents house at the beach for this race. Jessica's mom was very sweet and saintly and made a wonderfully tasty lasagna dinner. Her Dad was very calm and cool, her entire family was great! Her parents have a nice spread on a golf course! That's southern talk for a very beautiful home, it looked all "interior decorated" and perfect. No vomit stained carpets or animal fur to be found. (like our farm house!)

When I woke up, I realized my period had come. Last month it came Wood Lake race morning, then again today. Can't I get a break? I'm freaking fertile myrtle or something. I'm not in any serious pain. It just makes me more dull, quiet, agitated and more hungry. Meg told me this morning that I was acting nonchalant, I probably do act differently during this time of the month. I sipped my coffee and looked at the beautiful window treatments while other's chatted about the race and ate breakfast.

Don asked me if I was excited about the race this morning.

I said, "Guess so, it will be a new experience; swimming in the ocean and all.(Little did I know I would almost aspirate ocean water in about 3 hours from this statement) Could we please go to the gourmet fudge shop in Wilmington after the race?"

You do not know how much I love this chocolate place. It's called
scrumdiddlydumciousness, you can watch them make the fudge. I must go every time we are around Wilington. Kilman's

He informed me my mind wasn't focusing in the right direction, I would be racing in 2 hours! I need to focus on racing! Like I didn't already know, honey? I had been talking to my other tri friends about this chocolate factory last night. I wanted to stuff myself with the yummy lasagna last night but I didn't want any problems this morning from gorging on goodness. He thinks he's the smartest coach in the world. His award for me winning novice would be $40.00 to spend at the scrumdiddlydumcious store. Now you're talkin'! :)

He took a smiley picture of me with my tri friends after that news.

Then, I started to focus on actually swimming in the ocean. Start time was about to blow for the elites. I watch this boat struggling to put out the buoys. It looked like a toy boat bouncing around on the waves ( It actually was a 50 ft Coast Guard Cutter!). I watch the buoys come crashing back to shore. I started paying attention and heard strangers talking about the rough surf conditions. I thought maybe I should stop thinking about chocolate.

I start listening carefully to directions:
The coast guard cutter can't get the buoys anchored because the waves are pushing 10 feet high. You can choose to do a dualathon, but you will not be awarded points. The lifeguards were going to take the buoys out on surfboards, and hold them in place for the entire race!15 lifeguards total.(The life guards deserve major props for all their hard work!) Race director says to start far to the right of the first buoy because the north pushing current was so strong .

Elites.. 15 seconds.. Beeeeepp!

I watched the elites sprint into the surf far, far right of the first buoy. Some decided to try to cut toward it too fast and got pulled left of the buoy. The elites looked like they were fighting and struggling, the finesse had be forgotten. I saw a few turn around. I saw more and more caps turning around after fighting with the waves for a few minutes-pink, blue, green, yellow and then me. White egghead-

that is naively smiling because I'm still blissfully unaware about trying to swim out in the ocean with waves being push by high surf.

I decided after I watched so many others' quit and come in that I would not turn around and look back at shore. Once you did this, it seemed you were done. Off I went, promising not to look back even if it took an hour to swim 375 yards.

First, I am thankful I wore my goggles under my cap. They would have gotten bitch slapped off my face for sure. I am thankful I don't panic easily. At times, I was afraid of the waves crashing on top of me and crushing me. I felt so out of touch with the "Little Mermaid" feeling I thought I might have had. I was delusion to think ocean swimming was so fun. I felt like I was making no progress trying to swim out to the first buoy. I would swim so hard and kept getting sucked toward shore. It was 2 strokes forward, 8 back. The breakers were almost impossible to get beyond.

I'd try to go under the waves and they'll pull me under. I started way too far right of the buoy but I saw so many people getting sucked away, I played it safe. Once you got out and swam parallel to shore, you felt like Speed Racer. I swam too far past the last buoy and did not make my left turn toward shore. The lifeguards were screaming at me, "Turn. Turn! TURN!!!"
Because I was "One" with the current, I felt like zooming and got carried away. (little did I know that about 20 yards past the last bouy was a dangerous rip current!)

The turn back to shore was humbling, you'll get the shit knocked out of you. I saw a man in front of me panicking and screaming during the second swim leg. I have never heard someone scream, "Help, I am going to drown!"

I saw and heard him because moments before, I almost aspirated ocean water. So, I started treading water because a wave had hit me so hard, I became disoriented with up and down. Then, another wave it me. I thought I would suck salt water down my lungs because I needed to breathe. I stopped thinking about chocolate.

This race was all about the swim for me- that is all I pretty much remember right now. I will update more when the splits are posted. I'm not thrilled with my time. I came in first novice and got the chocolate but thought I would be faster. I feel like I trained hard. I think it was the ocean but it will be interesting to see. Was my ocean swim bad or did it shake me so much I couldn't recover on the other legs? I really hope I don't suck goat balls on the bike.. I have Falcor and I'm blessed to own him. I want to rate owning him!

Oh yeah, on the run the photographer dude told me I had big teeth.
Better to eat you with dude! I made this picture extra large so you can see them if you read my blog. Chomp! Chomp!

Today, was the first time I felt like I had to fight to live for a long time. I didn't quit because I chose not to look back.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Soap Logs, Track Workouts and the Karate Kid

I had a productive week. I got up on the water skis three times. I made three, eight pound logs of soap- Sexy Thing, Lychee Fruit and Chai Tea.

I got in some tough workouts, including a track workout. The track workouts are hard but I hear it's the only way to get faster. We did 8x400 w/60 second rest, 60 seconds goes by very quickly. During the 6th and 7th 400's, I finally got that "I'm running so hard I may vomit feeling." I've always wondered about people that cross the finish line and barf. My husband said that if I didn't get that feeling, I'm not trying hard enough. I finally got that feeling Wednesday night. I was whipped because I'd just swam 2,000 yards and lifted before the track work, it probably wasn't the smartest idea. I got all my weight lifting done by Wednesday so my muscles could recover for the race Sunday.

When I was driving home from the track on Wednesday night, a car was stopped on the road we live on. I slowed down, there were about five people standing in the road too. Then I see the dog. I have seen this dog and his gang on our road before, I vividly remember him. I remembered him because he and his homies were chowing down on roadkill one day when I passed them. My windows were rolled down and they had stirred up the rotten remains. The smell was so awful, I was gagging. I started thinking about these dogs and how hungry they must be to eat something so putrid. I also thought about having to bathe a dog that consumed that rotten carcass, you'd have to use bleach or something. I have spoiled Monty, he spazes out if his paw is dirty and will obsessively lick it until it's raw.

The dog was laying in the road because he'd been hit by a car. The woman that hit him was talking to some boys asking about his owner. I rolled down my window and asked if they needed my help. They told me they had it under control and were locating his owner. Then, I looked at the dog. It had pooped, probably from pain and fear. It had blood coming from its nose but his pretty brown eyes were blinking at me. He was still breathing. His other two dog pals were standing on the side of the road watching.

I wanted to stop the van, get out and hold the dog while he was dying. I know it sounds weird but I have this strong desire to be with people and animals while they die. I don't want anyone to die alone, without someone there to hold there hand, pet their head or kiss their face. My husband can't stand to watch death, he can't be there and I understand. It's a hard thing to deal with but I know I don't want to die alone. I didn't know this dog well enough and sometimes when animals are in pain or scared they'll lash out and bite. I decided not to stop because I was hot, tired, sad and thought the people had it under control.

When I drove to the gym the next day, I see the dog on the side of the road stiff with rigor mortis. Flies were swarming his lifeless body. I felt really shitty. I should have stopped last night. I should have at least sat with him and talked to him kindly while he died. He was treated like a piece of garbage during his short life and I could have made his last moments a little more pleasant. His owner didn't even care to bury him. He was abandoned like a piece of trash on the side of the road. I felt awful knowing he never really knew love during his life. I hope he's in some doggy heaven getting a nice bath and eating juicy t-bone steaks.

Onto more pleasant subjects. I got the fuzz on the back of my neck trimmed the other day at the El Cheapo salon. It only costs $3.00 for a neck trim at this place. It was some young dude's turn to cut my hair, he looked like he just got out of high school. I didn't worry too much because he just had to cut a straight line across my neck. He put that cape on me, wet my neck and took a snip. After his takes a snip, he starts flipping the scissors around in his hand. Kind of like Karate Kid with nunchakus.

After each snip, he would whip his scissors around. I got a little scared when he hit my shoulder with the handle while doing his karate moves. I was like, "Easy there, killer!" Little did I know...

I hand him his $5.00 for my 3 minute haircut while vowing I'd never have him cut my bangs. I might lose an eye or something. When he put his arm out for the money, his arm poked out of his sleeve. This kid was a "Cutter." Snaggle told me about these types of kids. They enjoy cutting themselves. He had about 60 slashes on his arm. I know the difference between a cat scratch and "I use a razor and carve designs in my flesh." And I thought that running with scissors was dangerous!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

I'm A Water Skiing Challenged Fool

I got up today, three times. I lasted only about 45 seconds tops, standing. But that is not the point. The point is, I have a handicap when it comes to water skiing. I'm not good at it and when I do succeed, it looks painful and uncoordinated.

My husband is trying to be nice and coach me. He keeps telling me to keep my legs together(one of the few times those words spill from his tongue), stay down like I'm squatting and keep my shoulders back. I keep falling and get really frustrated. He is starting too fast and pulling my arms out of their sockets. I tell him I want to see him ski, since he knows everything.

He shows me how to drive the boat. He teaches me how to circle back around for pick up without shredding him with the propeller. I listen and learn but secretly can't wait until I see him struggle to ski too.

I hate him sometimes. He got up the FIRST time.

And stayed up for longer than 2 minutes. He looked graceful and made it seem effortless. Snaggle kept shooting pictures of him and clapping. I went faster and he still was standing. I think he did so well because I'm such a good boat driver, yeah that's the ticket.

I decide I don't want to water ski anymore, Snaggle won't try it so we get the tube. The tube is very fun and very scary.
It is scary because Don likes to pull us so fast. He'll turn really fast one way, then the other. The tube is "playing crack the whip". I'd bet we sometimes reach speeds of 50mph.
The sign we made up for "stop" is to wave your hand in the air. You can see in the picture, Snaggle frantically waving. Don didn't stop. I just hear Snag screaming at the top of her lungs "STOP! STOP! AHHHHHHHHHHH! STOP! IM WAVING MY ARM- STOP!" I know better, he's having fun watching us screaming. He'll stop when he wants to. I honestly don't ever think I waved my arm. I am not crazy, I had a death grip on the tube while flying around. If I let got to wave, I'd go sailing through the air at 30mph. He did finally stop. I was thankful, my arms were getting tired.

Snaggle was mad, "God Dad! Didn't you see my arm waving? Are you freaking blind? Can you not see anything?"

Don yelled from the boat, "Oh honey, I thought you were waving because you were gleeful and having fun!"

Snaggle Said:

I waved stop!

Monday, June 19, 2006

I'm Not Dead Yet. I Feel Fine, I Feel Happy!

I'm feeling better about food, therefore life and training are great now too. Tonight we are having tangy-tantalizing meatloaf(beef,veal and lamb with a brown sugar-apricot glaze), mashed potatoes(made with real butter and cream cheese), beef-mushroom gravy and Italian green beans from market. I am excited. If you mentioned meatloaf four days ago, I would have pig-vomited on you.

I have my first ocean water swim this weekend. I'm a bit nervous about jaws, jellyfish and waves. Are waves gonna be crashing on top of me when I'm swimming and make me face plant into the sand? How much salt water can I swallow without gagging? I'll probably be ragging too and my husband told me the sharks like the women that are bleeding. We are like chum. I will swim fast.

My very own water skis arrived this afternoon. My husband won them on Ebay.
I tell you, I'll get knocked downed 30 times but I will eventually get up. My husband's day off is tomorrow, so we will take the new boat and water skis to Jordon Lake. Snaggle is coming along too. Snaggle will get some pictures of me getting dragged around like a rag doll, but I am determined to do it.

I did a hard workout today. Worked my triceps, chest and shoulders. Then ran for 40 minutes then swam this workout:

1500 yds total:
400 warm up
6 x 25 hard/30 sec rest
Kick 4 x 25 hard/30 sec rest
400 moderate/2 min rest
Kick 4 x 25 hard/30 sec rest
6 x 25 hard/30 sec rest
200 easy cool down

Swimming is really tough when I have already worked my triceps. I like to do things that are hard and sometimes painful. My triceps were on fire during the 25 hard(s), I must use them a lot during swimming. I don't know if that is good or bad. I'm trying to lose some body fat and "get a little more cut". I was looking over the diets of women that primarily body build and they live off protein. I'm not sure how well I'd do as a triathlete with eating mostly protein. I'm getting most of my calories from carbohydrates currently. Fuck, a packet of Gu is like 39 carb grams or something.

Anyway, I'm excited about dinner and my day tomorrow, even if I struggle. Just generally happy about health and getting to enjoy this life.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Down in the Dumps

I feel like something the cat dragged in. I went to the gym today and tried to workout. I worked my legs and they felt like jello, it made me kinda dizzy. I swam about 750 yards and my arms felt like lead. It was an out of body experience, my body was moving but I don't know where I was. I'm not up to snuff and my stomach still doesn't feel right. I was able to keep the Cheerios down I ate this morning. My first solid food, yay! I decided not to run after the swim. I came home and ate a bowl of Chicken and Stars.

When I opened my cupboard, I was even more frustrated and disgusted. It looked like tornado alley. I can't find anything because it's so cluttered. Because I'm recovering and can't run around like a chicken with its head cut off, I actually took time to organize and clean. I tore apart the cupboard, shelf by shelf. I bleached each rack. I made a breakfast, cereal, canned goods, baking goods and condiments/pasta shelf. I also realized I have 5 jars of peanut butter, 3 cans of bread crumbs, 4 bottles of corn syrup and 5 bags of egg noodles. I threw the stale cereals, crackers, cookies in a big pot with buttermilk and the birds had a great feast tonight. The day wasn't a total loss after all! Ya know what is most appetizing to me still on that rack? Saltines.

I forgot to add that while I was cleaning out the bottom shelf of the cupboard, I stood up holding two bottles of soy sauce and caved my dome piece in- really hard. I slammed it into the corner of the top cabinet. I saw stars and little birds flying around in circles. I screamed "Jesus Fucking Christ!", then I started crying. It was one of those really bad days and I wallowed in my self pity. As I tried to sleep that night, every time I rolled over, I woke up because of my bruised noggin.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Sick as a Dog

You don't know how thankful I am to not be vomiting every 15 minutes. I feel like I've been put through the spin cycle 20 times but I'm so thankful not to be gagging my head off.

It started yesterday morning at 5am. I had been feeling bad laying in bed around 3 am but I tried to just lay still and take deep breaths. Once I sat up, the vomiting and diarrhea began. I had eaten pizza and blueberries for dinner after my bike ride in the rain that evening with Meg. It obviously just sat in my stomach all night because when I projectile vomited, it was blood red. My husband heard me gagging and ran into the bathroom. "Oh my God! You are vomiting blood!" Then we realized it was just blueberries.

Every 15 minutes, I was vomiting and shitting. I had a bucket in my hands while sitting on the throne. This was worse than chemotherapy. During chemo, I would throw up but not shit at the same time. My husband was great, he would empty out the vomit bucket and hand me washcloths to wipe my snotty and vomity face. The only thing he did that made me want to vomit in his direction was he kept forcing me to drink water or gatorade. I kept throwing it up 10 minutes later. Nothing was staying down, not even my own bile. I felt like I wanted to die. At 10:30, I was just vomiting bright yellow and shitting liquidy intestinal lining. I was so thirsty, a thirst I have never had before. I felt like I had run a marathon in the Sahara. My tongue felt thick, pasty and swollen. Things were blurry, I couldn't stand up for more than one minute.

He said we were going to the hospital at 11am. I was scared, I thought I would shit in the car ride to the hospital. I ask him to wait until I did another gag and shit cycle and he packed me a clean set of jeans and underwear in case I pooped in my pants. It sucked to have no control of my body. It was pouring rain from the tropical storm, and we were hydroplaning during the drive. I made it to the hospital without embarrassing myself and ran into the bathroom when we walked into the door with my trusty vomit pail.

When I got into the exam room, they had trouble getting my blood pressure. Then they told me I needed to pee in a cup. I didn't think I had any pee left. They said if I couldn't pee in a cup, they would have to get a sample with a catheter. OH, hell no! I managed to get a tablespoon of pee out. Then they had to get in IV in, which was fine because I knew I would be getting some saline which would quench my thirst. When they were digging around in my veins I forgot about shitting or vomiting. It's funny how one type of pain can cure another. I got two liters of saline in about 1 1/2 hours. They also gave me some Phenergan in my IV. It made me sleepy and it seemed like everyone was echoing. I stopped throwing up. I was so fucking thankful I wanted to kiss the doctor and the nurse. I said thank you about twenty times.

I feel really tired. I am supposed to go to White Lake this weekend to water ski. I don't know if I feel up to transforming into Gumby again. I'm not supposed to eat any solid foods until the diarrhea stops and it hasn't. I've been eating ice, gatorade, jello and popsicles the last twelve hours. I can't remember the last time I have had the popsicles that are wrapped in plastic. You have to squeeze them like a tube of toothpaste. The purple and red ones are my favorites. While I lay around like and slug and watch TV, commercials about food make my stomach back-flip. I doubt I'll ever eat pizza or blueberries again.

Yesterday was a perfect day to be sick though, we got over 5 inches of rain. Snaggle got the season five of Sex in the City, so I'll probably crunch Sonic's rabbit pellet ice and watch that DVD. I don't care if I had to watch Sesame Street 24/7, as long as I'm not vomiting. Did I tell you I'm so thankful not to be vomiting? :)

Sunday, June 11, 2006

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!

This weekend was full of first experiences. On Saturday, after a 50 mile bike ride, my friend Meg took me out on her boat. Meg asked if I wanted to try to water ski. It was hot as goat balls so I thought it would be a great idea. Meg went first and she looked like a pro. While I was watching her, she reminded me of the Go-Go's video above, "Vacation". She made it look so simple, I was ready to take the plunge.

She told me to keep my legs bent and shoulders back, it sounded simple enough. First I had to get the water skis on, which was hard in the water. I slammed the damn ski into my skin and got a nice bruise. Once I had them on, I had to grab the rope. "Ready?" Meg asked and the boat accelerated. I did a nose dive into the water and got a good nasal irrigation. I tried again and I did the splits like Nadia Comaneci. It felt like I ripped my hamstrings off. I kept trying and trying, I probably tried over 30 times to get up but couldn't. Ken and Meg were really patient, they had to keep circling around every time I'd fall. My last attempt was when I looked like Gumby, got an enema and a douche. Then the rope slammed into my quads and gave me a welt. I had enough self abuse for one day. I came home and told my husband about my lack of water skiing finesse. Guess what? He is buying a boat as we speak. I think he wants to see me look like an idiot.

Today, I decide to be a glutton for punishment yet again and try mountain biking with bike shop friends. Amy let me borrow her old mountain bike and we headed to Harris park. I am a sissy that is so afraid of falling. I could never be a mountain biker, I'm a roadie. Unlike yesterday, I did not fall once. I did feel like I was driving a semi-truck through McDonald's drive-thru when we did sharp turns through the trees. I squealed like a pig probably ten times when going over bridges and stumps and this made everyone laugh. I'm glad Amy let me borrow her bike because I know that mountain biking is not for me, it rattles my cage too much. I did complete the beginner course and two intermediate course laps. When I got home, I went for a 80 minute run during the heat of the day and was thankful to be on even ground.

I'm gonna learn how to water ski, I tell you. I want to look like the Go-Go's, fuckin' tiara, tutu and all! I'm sore today though, my arms feel like they were pulled outta socket. What other physically abusive things can I get into next?

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Taking Off the Rose Colored Glasses

Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.

I've decided to quit some bad habits that I feel have gotten out of control. It's been four days. I'm fine during the day but in the evening, when the clocks strikes party hour, I don't know what to do with myself. I've been working out in the soap shed more, going to the gym in the evenings and eating dinner earlier. I'm feeling pretty good physically but sometimes people can annoy the fuck out of me.

I've come to realize humans can become addicted to lots of things- alcohol, drugs, food, sex, porn, shopping, blogging. I guess what I need to figure out is why I felt like I needed these vices to make me happy every night. Honestly, I think they were my escape. They made my problems, fears and feelings go away for a few hours. I guess it's a problem with "dealing with reality". Since my rose colored glasses have been off, I see things and others' motives a lot more clearly. I notice the little things, good and bad. Like yesterday, when I was stretching after my run, I watched these ants carrying little bread crumbs. Sounds dumb, I know. I think my brain was so foggy I didn't notice the little things about life for awhile.

Not everything is a fun and simple as watching the ants though. I am feeling a lot more. Sometimes, I feel really angry with people that have hurt me. I didn't feel any hurt during party hours and I never said anything, I'd just listen and take it. If it was especially hurtful, I'd just do more partying to make it go away. Now, it's all out on the table and I'll have it deal with it. I have market today and I won't have party time after dealing with customers. Good lord, Waldo better not be a dildo-head or I may shove an egg up his ass. He'd probably enjoy it though. I just don't have the patience for whiney, unhappy, grouchy souls right now.

My husband has been helpful, taking me out to dinner and listening to me spew out my feelings about life. I have felt closer to him in the last few days. It's not just bad feelings that I was shutting down but all feelings. I know this a good decision, it will just take some time for me to adjust to a new routine. I know I've been more productive. I have be consuming less junk food at night. Who knows, it may help me become a better athlete. Well, it's time to milk the goats and notice the perfectly round the goat poop in the bright green grass.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Kitty's Five Kittens

Kitty had five healthy kittens on Friday night. She's a great Mom too. I was worried about her the first day because she didn't leave them for 14 hours. This morning, she followed me outside while I was milking the goats. I think she needed a break. I can't imagine lying still for 23 hours a day while five little ones sucked on me.

The kittens aren't very fun right now. Their ears are flat againist their heads, their eyes still shut. Just wait, I'll probably be super annoying from weeks 3-6 with all sorts of stories and pictures.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Birthday Barbie

Today is my husband's birthday. I asked him what he wanted. He said he wanted ceasar salad,
bacon wrapped filet mignon and twice baked potatoes. As a surprise appetizer, I made him bacon wrapped water chestnuts. He likes bacon like Monty. I am preparing this feast with Snaggle right now.

He comes homes with this cake. A customer made it for him. It's his "stripper popping out of the cake."

I asked him why she would make him that type of cake.

He said she asked him what he wanted and he said he was "joking" and said, "A stripper jumping out of a cake!"

You men are about as smart as the guineas. I asked him why he didn't lick the icing off her breasts. Why bring her home intact?

When I bring home flowers in a mayo jar from some redneck farmer at market, they get thrown away by a jealous husband. I'll just eat your slut city present, honey! And I'm not joking.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

The Guineas: A Few Clowns Short of a Circus

When I moved to the south, I had never heard of a bird called a Guinea. Down here, guineas are very popular. I probably get more phone calls for guineas than for any other bird. The farmers around here love to use guineas for pest control, especially for clearing out ticks. The guineas are constantly moving and keep busy chasing down bugs. Here on our farm, I have about 50 guineas that free range around the house and pastures.

Guineas are a few fries short of a Happy Meal. They have got to be the dumbest birds I have ever owned. One of their favorite activities is the "Help me, I'm trapped!" game. This game consists of a guinea flying over the fence then forgetting how to fly back over. The guinea will run back and forth along the fence line, screaming it's annoying guinea call. They have worn the grass down along the fence line from running back and forth. After 20 minutes, the guinea will have its beak open wide because it's tired and hot from sprinting. Suddenly, the light bulb goes off in its pea sized brain and it finally remembers how to fly over the fence.

I sold 30 guinea keets to a man last summer. About two months after I sold them, he calls me back and wants more because all his guineas got killed. I asked if it was a fox. I should have known better, that would be too normal for a guinea death. The school bus killed all of his guineas. I guess the guineas would follow his son down to the bus.
They hated the school bus and when it would drive away, they would chase and attack it. When one guinea would get hit, all the guineas would stand in the road and scream their clown looking heads off. Cars would come around the corner and take out more guineas. I think he lost all of them in a matter of three days. They are suicidal too, I don't know how they survived evolution.

Another favorite guinea game is "Up on the house top". Guineas are great at flying, if they remember how to do it. Some days, they decide to fly on top on the house and play reindeer games on the roof. They enjoy playing these games when we are trying to sleep in the early morning. It sounds like Out of Fucking Africa, in stereo. We don't need an alarm clock, we have a guinea stampede on the roof!

Guinea hens love to hide their nests. You cannot train a guinea to lay her eggs in a nest like a good chicken. Again, that would be too easy. They will find a spot in the woods on our 25 acre farm to hide their eggs. I have to go on egg hunts if I want to incubate any guinea eggs or have any keets to sell. Once you touch their nest, they will not return. Guinea hens are terrible mothers. Once the babies hatch, they go about their simple life running through the pasture eating bugs. The key word is running. The baby guineas can't keep up with the Mama. They start dropping off like flies and the hawks are always ready to swoop down for the kill. We will take away the baby guineas if a hen hatches them and raise them safely in a brooder.

Baby guineas are pretty cute. They are striped like little tigers. They are busy the minute they hatch and scamper around the incubator searching for morsels. That cuteness is gone by month 4. They start developing this scary clown face, white with red trim. Then, this giant lump of a dome piece forms on top of their head. It reminds me of the cartoons when someone gets hit on the head and a giant flashing lump appears. How can something be so ugly?

This morning, I was milking the goats and I see this tiny Taco Bell dog running up our driveway. The guineas see this little mutt and start screaming. Then the group of Einstein's decide to chase the dog. It was hilarious! The little dog starts yipping and runs home with his tail between his legs. They still are idiots though. What if it was a fox? The fox would just be sly and stand there, "Come to Mama!"