When I saw the property across my driveway was for sale, I got a little nervous. Around this part of town, you can pretty much build whatever you want, and there isn't any law that says it's too ugly, too messy, etc. My husband and I even talked about buying it, but of course the prices of property around here have gotten higher and higher, and we didn't have the spare money anyway.

I saw a SOLD sign on the tree, then a foundation being built last month. Was it the beginnings of a junk yard, or the start of a house that would never be completed? Was someone planning to kennel wild dogs over there? Anything was possible. At least the end of the driveway wasn't so thick with trees that they could barracade the entrance and we'd only have to *speculate* what was going on behind those sheets of plywood with rusty locks.

Well I'm happy to say that this morning, in the rain, is a man atop a roof, laying shingles on what appears to be a very nice house. It's been in process for awhile, but today I got a good look at it, and it's going to be a swell house to look at day after day. Since whatever was going to be there could be seen from any part of the front of our house, I was nervous. Now I'm pleasantly surprised.

I'm hoping a nice family moves in with kids and no livestock. I just hope we don't scare them away with our tone-deaf rooster.
- posted by Christine @ 12:21 PM

 
My husband left today for new lands. So we took the tearful drive to the airport and we waved good-bye.



The kids watch out the window as his plane backs up and leaves.

- posted by Christine @ 1:46 PM

 
I decided to let my chickens "free range" (meaning, out of the coop) a bit since the hens are getting pecked at, and I attribute it to a small space. So yesterday I let them out to roam the property.

Chickens are funny, at least mine are. They break off into two groups. One rooster had two hens, the other one had three, and they just followed eachother around.

And when dusk falls, they all climb back into their coop, hop onto their roost, and go nighty-night.

So they've done this for a few days, and everything seems OK EXCEPT for that mean rooster. He's already chased both kids into the house, bit my son in the butt, and then today, just after I had told the kids not to show fear or he'll attack, the rooster darted out from the yard and jump onto my leg, scratching up my knee with his claws. I started to kick him, took a step back, and landed on a rock, twisting my ankle. Nice. I guess he decided I was getting boring and meandered off, but I was *not* happy.

I don't feed, water, and care for those chickens day in and day out to be pecked at.
- posted by Christine @ 12:23 AM

 
So there's this guy who is apparently fascinated by the big cats at the zoo. A groundskeeper finds this man's finger in the cage a couple weeks after he sees that very same man running away bloody. The man denies that his finger is missing. (????)
- posted by Christine @ 8:32 PM

 
A coincidence that I've now dicovered the commissary at Fort Lewis, which saves me buckets of money, and the infamous Oregon Vortex is now for sale? I think not.
- posted by Christine @ 4:32 PM

 
Wow, the teeny tiny town I grew up in is getting it's 15 minutes, err...five minutes, of fame!
- posted by Christine @ 3:33 PM

 
I really wish we did have some UFOs visiting our earth about now. Maybe it would take my mind off of what's going on atop of this earth and give me something new to worry about!
- posted by Christine @ 1:06 PM

 
Wow, so glad I think I've figured out how to post pictures (below you see my cute little chickies over a year ago who have since grown up to be big, ugly, yet productive, chickens).

We're having caterpillar issues right now. Someone on the news said they'll be gone in a couple of weeks, but apparently they turn into moths. If you read my journal from last summer, I shared a story of the kids letting hundreds of moths into our house one night. They weren't even nice moths--these moths dove into your hair and eyes. The kids and I had to kill them with shoes and things. Next time I'll try the wet vac, like in Tommy Boy.

So, enjoy these picture of the caterpillar infestation at my parent's house (I know my parents will).




- posted by Christine @ 5:04 PM

 
Testing my picture capablities:


- posted by Christine @ 6:48 PM

 
One day while scarfing down some mixed nuts in an attempt to avoid a hypoglycemic attack, I got to thinking, what does a cashew shell look like?

Well, here it is.
- posted by Christine @ 11:24 AM

 
There's nothing quite like being yelled at by a stranger on the phone. Last night I was trying to figure out some military information on my husband when this man happened to answer the 800 number in St. Louis.

My husband said maybe it was because I'm a woman, but I tried to get information from the guy and he was just talking in circles, so I passed the phone over to my husband. Anyway, I forgot about Mean Army Man until today when I was referred to an 800 number after five calls to various Army office locations.

Guess who answered? Mean Army Man. Either they only have a couple of operators or I just have really bad luck.

I didn't know it was the same guy, so I told him my story again, looking for information for my husband. He interrupted me, "Hey, I talked to you yesterday."

"You may have," I said, "..but this was the number I was given for help...."

He pointed out that the record indeed showed that I had inquired about my husband's military history five times already today.

I would say the word I used to describe this man to my husband, but I won't. I'll just say he was a jerk. Mean Army Man said he'd already told my husband the answer and that he was done with me. But I kept talking. How I stayed calm, I'm not really sure. With a smile on my face, I told him that I needed to talk to someone that could answer my question. He said I wasn't making sense and something to the effect that I didn't know what I was talking about. Insinuating that he had already GIVEN me the answer yesterday, but yet I was STILL calling him.

Mean Army Man must have been a drill sergeant. An angry drill sergeant that had privates dye his clothing pink while he was sleeping. He must have been told he resembled a rodent earlier this morning. Whatever it was, I didn't do it, and I didn't deserve that.

I kept talking, and talking. I could hear him sighing loudly on the other end, but I didn't stop. Why stop? Why can't I get an answer when this the number I'm TOLD to call?

Finally he said he was going to transfer me. It got quiet for a long time and I figured he'd hung up on me, but when a calm voice finally said "hello" I realized it had just taken him a while to find someone to talk to this "crazy woman" on line 2.

A nice man answered and I told him I guess I exasperated the last man, and he laughed. He listened to my story and tranferred me to the most knowledgable person in the military I think I will ever find. She was kind, she listened, and she HAD THE ANSWER I WAS LOOKING FOR. I've written her name and phone number in three places in case I have problems again.

I'm tempted to call again and get Mean Army Man's name. My husband thinks I should to get him in trouble. I've decided to let it go.

Maybe.

- posted by Christine @ 3:43 PM

 
A brief safe. Not for anyone easily grossed out or eating chocolate.

There are other cool items at this web site, if you can stomach the above-mentioned one.
- posted by Christine @ 1:04 PM

 
Well--what do ya know-- Jesus has his own blog and does a question/answer sort of thing over there.
- posted by Christine @ 12:52 PM

 
Gun Safety Presenter shoots self. Yeah for him.
- posted by Christine @ 3:17 PM

 
Bored? Make your own Michael Jackson face!
- posted by Christine @ 1:18 PM