Archive | June, 2010

The glory of cardboard

30 Jun

Moving?  Oh, it’s exciting and stressful at the same time.  I’m choosing to ignore the stressful parts for the time being.  However, I’ve been knee-deep in exciting all week.  Did you know that purchasing packing boxes makes my teeth sweat?  I was truly on the cusp of drooling last night as I was shopping for boxes.  Empty, cardboard boxes.  Some were even so exciting as to come with partitions inside of them.  How else could one organize her glassware when moving?  How have I made it through life thus far without knowing of the existence of box partitions?  In retrospect I realize that life without of specialized packing boxes is a life half-lived.  Welcome to the good life, Raine.  Ahh.

So excited was I to be shopping for boxes, that I even added an extra roll of bubble-wrap to my online shopping cart.  One can never have too much bubble wrap, as the Hubs has been happy to remind me.  Who knows, maybe when I’m done packing I can have a bubble-wrap stomping party with my closest friends and family.  How better to bond than through the demolition of bubble wrap?

With boxes on the way, I’ve been contemplating how I am going to organize all of my boxes once they have been packed and seal.  Just write on the exterior of the box a short summary of their contents or create a detailed inventory list?  Ooo, I think an inventory is too much fun to pass up.  My mild OCD is chomping at the bit.  Down, you crazy thing.  All in good time.  You’ll have your day in the sun.

However, with my packing plans in order, my thoughts now turn to what happens after I pack.  Drum roll, please.  Cleaning.  And I’m not just talking about the weekly cleaning I try to avoid each week.  Oh no, the deep-down, I’m-about-to-move kind of cleaning.  This is when you suddenly realize that there have been a thousand nooks and crannies that have hoarded away dust bunnies and stray dog hair.   I imagine that they’re like the mythical belly buttons that eat holes in peoples shirts.  Of course, ravenous belly buttons are a lot more terrifying to consider.

I’ll wait to plan my cleaning phase for another day.


Martha Crocker

28 Jun

The weekend was gloriously productive.  I got a haircut, which I felt was needed.  Have you ever been to Oklahoma?  How about that wind?  Yeah.  I will spend the rest of my existence battling my hair into submission due to the freakish wind that come sweeping ‘cross the plains.  Of course, I can’t really complain all that much.  I’ll take a hot, windy day over a hot, stale day….well, every day.

So, I cut my hair.  Shortish.  I have always had shortish hair.  I’ve always loved it…until this past year.  What happened?  It doesn’t look bad on my, but it doesn’t look great either.  *sigh*  Maybe I should cut it shorter?  (Negative.) Or maybe I’ll grow it out again only to have my face hounded by stray hairs.  Curse you, universe ! (Only an ever-so-slightly joking wink.)

Haircutting aside, the kids were at their dad’s this weekend which meant an uninhibited, passionate cleansing of their rooms.  It.  Was.  Amazing.  My mild OCD could not have had more fun.  I do not even want to say how much stuff I hauled out of the kids room, but I will say it was a lot.  I know.  Wow.  Never has cleaning been more exciting.  It was made even more exciting by listening to The Flaming Lips as I threw away things with wild abandon.  Ahhhh.

I rounded off the weekend by making some homemade blackberry cobbler.   Not only was it made in my home, but it was made from scratch.  Shazam!  That’s right…I was half Betty Crocker, half pre-prison Martha Stewart.  Martha Crocker.  That’s my name, don’t wear it out. *A totally dorky wink*

Big News

25 Jun

Click to enlarge

Since we were fairly lazy on our recent trip to Oklahoma, only a few pictures were taken.  Of those pictures, however, were some true gems. 

The last day in Oklahoma was spent in my in-laws backyard watching the kids playing in sprinklers and climbing up in the tree house.  The tree house climbing was short-lived, however.  One trip up the ladder led to the discovery of some very interesting and menacing looking ants.  Thus the kids decided to stick to the sprinklers. 

The dogs lounged about the yard, periodically stopping by to sit in someones lap or to take a trip through the sprinklers.  Denny didn’t take too kindly to the water, no matter how hot he was.  He ended up sprawled out under the tree house, wriggling about like an epileptic worm.  If only he’d known about the mutant ants…he may not have been so eager to play in the grass.

The rest of our visit was pretty uneventful.  My in-laws did take the kids to Incredible Pizza in Warr Acres, OK.  It was a cornucopia of indoor arcade games, pizza, bumper cars and bowling.  Jaden and Fisher would have gladly moved in if we had allowed it.  (They provide fake moustaches as a prize…what more could you ask for?!)

Speaking of moving, we’ll be moving to Oklahoma at the end of July.  A big move, I know.  We’ll be leaving the south behind along with its constant humidity and plethora of biting bugs for the windy heartland.  I’m looking forward to the sunsets and breeze…but not the bad weather.  Though, I’m told that the weather forecasting is top-notch there.  Hopefully I’ll learn to act like an adult when the storms roll through.  *fingers crossed*

So, anyone want to help me pack?  *wink*

Back in the EST

24 Jun

We’re ba-aack.  *yawn*  And we’re tired.  Why is it that you always need a vacation to recover from a vacation?  It may be because we spent 17+ hours on the road yesterday.  It’s a strong possibility.  ;)

Unfortunately, today’s post will be a light one.  I know, I’ve slacked off for a week…I should have plenty of material!  And I do.  But I’m lacking in the energy department.  So, until tomorrow, I’ll leave you with this:

My children are so mature.  Just look at them…manly moustaches and all.  What more could a mother ask for?  *wink*

(In case you’re wondering, Jaden picked up a fake moustache at an arcade we visited in Oklahoma.  It’s what any girl would choose for a prize.)

Here kitty, kitty…

16 Jun


Click to enlarge


Last night my sister and I, along with Jordan and the kids went over to my mom’s house for supper.  We usually eat with her every Saturday night, but this week we felt like mixing it up a bit.  Tuesday!  Oh yeah.   

We gorged ourselves on roast and potatoes.  And almost everyone inhaled the butter beans with okra…except for me.  Ever seen a cow sneeze?  Exactly.  I’m not eating boiled okra.  Much to my surprise, Fisher actually ate the okra.  I know…and pigs flew by the window just as he did!  It was a Christmas miracle.   

After okra fest died down, we all adjourned to the living room to chit chat and to let the kids pet the cats.  My mother’s house is a cat sanctuary.  No really…I’m sure that 15+ cats qualifies as a sanctuary.  If only she could get government funding….hmm…  *stroking imaginary moustache*  

Fake moustaches aside, the cats are the important element to this story.  The most infamous cat in the house is Opossum…name such since she rather looks like an opossum.  She’s a solid white cat with one blue eye and one green eye.  Both eyes slant up toward her ears at such an angle as to make her look evil….which she is.  Of course, my little niece hasn’t caught on to this yet.   

Chloe: *Gasp*  “Kitty cat!”  

Me:  “Yes, Chloe, a kitty.  Go pet it!”   

Everyone Else:  *Muahaha*   

Chloe: *Petting the evil cat forcefully*   

Evil Cat: *Swatting at Chloe for all she’s worth*  

Chloe: *Completely unphased and still smiling*  

Me: Aww…I mean, awww.  

In my defense, the evil cat never uses her claws.  She mainly just beats you up with her furry feet.  It’s hilarious and terrifying at the same time.  I just wanted Chloe to share in the excitment…that’s all.  ;)  

Opossum did not find the humor in it, though.  She may have arched her back like she wanted to petted, but her furry feet said different.  She’s such a girl.  

The dead are so exciting

15 Jun

Spooky, huh?  Well, it is to a nine-year old.

This is the infamous cemetery of my childhood.  Tucked away in the woods, far from the beaten path, rests a family that time has all but forgotten. 

Most of the graves are still in tact, except for the father’s.  His has been damaged over the years.  No worries, though.  He’s still under there, 6 feet down.  Instead of the now common slab, they all had boxed in tombs over their graves.  I think it’s pretty classy: a peaceful place to rest for eternity.

One of the graves sites, not pictured here, had recently been updated by a family from Florida.  Their ancestors tombstone had long been washed away by time and weather, with nothing left but a plain marker.  I’m sure the other graves are jealous of his/her new marble marker.  *wink*

All joking aside, I have to give props to the family.  Not only where they fortunate enough to find the cemetery, but were thoughtful enough to freshen up the gravesite.  Even though no one will see it for quite some time, they wanted their loved one to rest in peace and not be forgotten.  Kudos, Florida folks!

These markers are from another local cemetery, one which is still in use.  (This is the cemetery where the hand is…..!)

I cannot even begin to imagine how old these graves are.  Time has erased any record of their occupants.  Some of the surrounding graves dated back to the mid-1800’s.  One grave marked a date of birth as 1785.  I found that grave to be of particular interest.  Born just nine years after we were declared the United States of America.  Now there’s some history for you! 

The grammar and spelling was a bit off, but I think that’s what makes it so endearing.  You colonials are just so darn cute.  ;)

“…laid to rest hear.  Borned 1832.  Died 1882.  May he sleepeth in peace.”

The Hand

14 Jun

It was a hot, sweaty weekend for Jordan & I.  We went to a beautiful outdoor wedding on Saturday and then went exploring on Sunday with my Dad & Step-Mom.  100 degree heat?  Psh…we barely noticed it.  (*eye roll*) 

Our exploring took us on a tour of forgotten cemeteries that dot the countryside where I grew up.  Across from my grandparents house is a tiny cemetery, tucked away in the woods behind a peanut field.  I spent a lot of time at this cemetery as a child.  My sister, cousin and I did our best to scare each other while we were there and we were usually successful.  Most of the tombstones date back to the mid-late 1800’s.  It’s truly a sight to see…which you will, tomorrow.  *wink*  Unfortunately, the old church next to it is no longer standing.  It would have been 120+ years old, so I shouldn’t have been so disappointed to see that it was gone…but I was.  It was an icon of my childhood: a single story, white church consisting of one large room with a wood burning stove in the center.

As we were hiking out of the woods, back to my father’s truck, we all decided to visit another cemetery that wasn’t far from where we were.  Story had it that a friend of my Step-Mother had buried his hand there when it was blown off by dynamite.  Riiiiight.  No one buries a lost appendage….right?

However skeptical we were, we couldn’t pass up the slim chance that the story was true.  So, upon arrival to the next cemetery, we set out on a hunt for the hand.  I was ready to spend an hour or more scouring the cemetery for a hand-sized grave site.  It came as a great surprise when, I stumbled across it within the first three minutes of searching:

“Oh my, God!” 


“I found the hand!”

I hate to say it, but we laughed quite a bit.  Not at the misfortune of this man who had lost his hand, but at the fact that the story was true.  It’s like discovering that the tooth fairy really does exist.  Who knew? 

Thus ended our day of cemetery exploration.  How could you top that? 

More cemetery fun coming your way tomorrow!