Filed under: Uncategorized
Some of you may remember that, a while back, CJ got himself into trouble and was put on probation. Then after that he moved up to Madison to live with Uncle Navy Dude and finish up high school. Part of all this was a promise from him that he’d keep in touch with his probation officer, pay the monthly fine of $40, and keep his nose clean.
Well, to his credit, he has been keeping his nose clean.
However (you saw this coming, didn’t you. I didn’t, which is the reason for this post) he has not been contacting his PO nor paying the monthly fine, even tho I’ve been seeing to it that he had the money to do so, along with weekly reminders to take care of it .”I KNOW, MOM…I’M DOING IT…DON’T WORRY, IT’S TAKEN CARE OF” said in a very “mom you’re such an idiot” tone of voice.
Well, guess who got a call from the probation officer last night. Guess who hasn’t been paying his fees or calling the PO. Since August. Guess who’s chances of getting into the school he desires with all his heart just plummeted because it turns out they do a background check. Guess who just might actually suffer the very real consequences of his actions without any sort of ability to blame me somehow.
If he fails to call the PO before 10, there will be a warrant for his arrest, and he’ll spend the remainder of his probation in the county jail. Which means no high school graduation, no NADC (they don’t accept GED), no lots of stuff. I want him to graduate. I don’t care if he goes to NADC or not. In fact, part of me doesn’t want him to because he doesn’t have the funds he needs, but he DOES have what he needs to go to a public tech school. He has the tuition money, but not enough for living expenses. If he goes to a public school, he has enough for tuition *and* living expenses. However, he’s set on NADC.
However, NADC does background checks, and if this thing with the PO bites him in the butt like it might, NADC would be moot, because they wouldnt have him.
We’ll see, won’t we. I called him last night (because I had the unbelievable foresight to get his best friend’s home phone number) and told him of what was going down. I let him know I was so pissed I couldn’t see straight and I hoped he was deeply thankful that he was 3 hours away. He was all “yes ma’am yes ma’am I’ll call him thank you ma’am” SO we’ll see, won’t we.
Here’s what I don’t want: comments of Oh your poor thing and all that. I want affirmations that my son is the Village Idiot and it’s high time he suffer a consequence or two. Without me having to be the one to impose the consequence, because I don’t want that responsibility.
wanting to blog about something, sipping on my morning coffee, snug in a red bathrobe and slippers with the heater blowing and a couple of titmice in the birdfeeder, and puffed up and fat looking in the cold. A very domestic and pleasant scene. yes indeed.
Then a Christmas ornament attempts an escape. A jingle bell, the size of a baseball and painted blue and cream checkerboard pattern hurls itself off the tree and rolls spastically across the floor, making all kinds of racket and startling the dog. She gets nose up to it and growls, pokes it, and growls again. She’s still eyeing it with suspicion.
I guess it’s time to take the tree down. It’s starting to dry out. I made some comment in that direction yesterday, and #4 promptly announced that he helped put it up so he didn’t see why he should help take it down. Last year Terry took it down, but he wasn’t working 12 hour days doing stupid inventory like he is this year, so I am not going to ask or expect him to do it. I guess I will. It will give me a chance to seriously organize the ornaments. Or maybe I’ll just throw them all in a box and be done with it.
Filed under: food
for supper tonight I wanted something like chili that wasn’t chili. I’d heard rumors of taco soup, so investigated a bit at Allrecipes and found several. Never one to stick exactly to any recipe, I fiddled around and came up with this one, popular with the menfolk. It makes alot, half it if you want to feed 3 or 4.
1-1/2 pounds ground beef
1 large can diced tomatoes
2- 10 oz cans ro-tel tomatoes
2 cans red beans
2 cans yellow hominy
1 small can sliced black olives
2 pkg taco seasoning
2 pkg ranch dressing mix
1 bag tortilla chips
diced avocado (purely optional)
Brown the meat. Drain the hominy and olives. Dump all the canned stuff into the pot with the meat. Add the packaged seasoning and stir well. Simmer at a low heat for 45 minutes or so. Serve on crushed tortilla chips, with cheese and a dollop of sour cream on top.
It’s cold here (cold being a relative concept, I admit), and this is an easy, warm and filling supper. I suppose if I were a more concientious individual I would have cut up carrots or something to serve with it, but I’m not, so I didn’t.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Thank you for being such a wealth of entertainment!
Part the First: for not giving up the lexicon of the 1970′s. For using Groovy, and carrying on with the TruckerSpeak that was so popular. You know not how very much levity you inspire, when you refer to my little red sports car as “bear bait” and respond in the affirmative with “that’s a big 10-4, good buddy” Thank you for asking Will if AstroGirl is “a fox” and causing momentary confusion to cross his face. You also allow him to exercise his diplomatic skills when he answers “why yes, Gran, she is.” with a straight face.
Part The Second: for giving us an event to cause howls of laughter, to the point of pain. For causing me the immense pleasure of imagining the horror on Bro. Scott’s face when he learned of the event. For having something that even in the 10th telling causes mirth. I am speaking of The Tube Steak Incident.
The Tube Steak Incident:
You decided to have a cookout On The Farm. You decided to invite the OTS fraternity out, and issued a blanket invitation in the form of a notice on the house bulletin board that read the following:
Tube Steak Cookout at The Farm, (date, time etc)
Bless your heart, Mom. I still haven’t gotten up the nerve to explain what a tube steak is.
My hope is that I will be able to cause such amusement in my grandchildren. I will refer to their girlfriends as Hotties, and have Junk sales. I will ask if they have tatts and can I see them.
because it’s what Grans do.
Thank you for not griping the whole time you were here. I didn’t know who to expect, the I Don’t Understand My DaughterInLaw Mom or the That’s a Tasty Soup Mom. I got the Tasty Soup Mom and for that I am grateful. I don’t know if God reached into your brain or what, but I got what I prayed for. I was even able to tolerate the Turn The Conversation To All About Me Mom, you know, the one who, when Dad and I are talking about CJ’s educational opportunity, turns it into “I find great sales at Curry’s”, but I have learned how to go “oh that’s nice” and turn it right back to education.
I was able to say “Yeah, you’ve told me all about that already” when you start in about your fabulous Sunday School class or the dinner group and avoid having to hear the same story for the 12th time.
It was good, for me and for you, Mom. I love you. You irritate the SNOT out of me, but I love you.
I’m sad, when I see how your hands shake how you have a hard time getting the food to your mouth, and how your ankles swell in the evening. I noticed that your hair is all white now, none of the chestnut brown in it anymore. I noticed that your skin looks like crepe paper, and is so pale. I saw how tenative you are, whenever you’re trying to do something, anything, and that makes me sad. You were always so confident with yourself and I don’t see that. You still make plans to weave, to teach someone to spin, to plant a huge garden. I don’t see how you can, with your hands so shaky and the way you get tired so easily.
But you still love to talk, and watch a good movie, and laugh about the kids. You still snuggle with those stupid little dogs of yours, enjoy a cup of tea and a cookie. You can still gripe about the Administration, the Alabama senators, and the way young women dress these days. So I guess it’s not all bad.
And it was good to see you, even if I didn’t care what sale Curry’s was having.
See, this is where I think these people should be put on an island out nowhere. No, I don’t think they should *all* be put to the death penalty, but they should be removed from society for good. This whole “oh but he paid his debt to society, he’s just misunderstood” crap, too bad. Fat lotta good it did that little girl. Take an island, put a factory making widgets on it so they’ll have something to do, and put them there for good. Unless, like this dude, they actually *have* killed someone, then fry away, painfully and in a most ACLU unapproved method. With his pecker up his nose and lemon juice on the wound.
Folks, castration doesn’t work. Ir’s a power thing. If all it was was a sex thing they wouldn’t be killing their victims. Rape can happen with a finger, or a hammer handle. One does not need to be able to Get It Up to cause lasting damage to a child. They need to be where THERE ARE NO CHILDREN, and that’s not anywhere in this country. There is no place where there are no children. So, take an unpopulated island, put them there, let them duke it out. Maybe they can make coconut hula dolls for export or something…
SOmetimes, people suck, they really do.