Farewell to Never Fry Chicken When You’re Naked…

This is blog number 178 and my last. I’m not even sure why I started blogging. I’ve always liked to write. I wrote poetry and short stories and always kept them to myself. I’ve met some really nice people writing this blog. People who encourage you in life and applaud your accomplishments. People who genuinely pull for you to win and do well and lift you up when you need lifting.

People who care about your family and pray for them when they’re sick. People who understand how difficult it is to see our parents get older and have health issues. People who get that your mother can drive you crazy but of course she’s still your mother and you’re lucky to have her here on this earth.

People who get your sense of humor. Wicked though it may be at times. And sometimes inappropriate. People who laugh with me are probably my favorite of all. People who cry with me, and I do tend to cry often, are my soul mates in this journey. You know what Truvy says…”Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion”.

There have been several occasions I thought it was time for the blog to end. I think people only want to hear about your life for so long. And I don’t blame them one bit. Just know this. It’s hard putting yourself out there. You get judged and criticized and critiqued. But as always, the faithful, loyal readers who always leave great comments about their own lives always made it worth it.

It’s not that I don’t still have things to say, but honestly it’s gotten harder and harder to not feel vulnerable in a way. When I share this blog I don’t really know every person reading it and at times that has caused me stress and a little anxiety. The world can be a very cruel, mean place. A place that I no longer want to share personal details of my life with anymore. That saddens me but it is what it is.

Thank you to each person who has ever taken the time to read this weekly dose of my world. I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Your kind words will never be forgotten. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself early Sunday mornings from now on but I’ll figure it out.

It’s been a blast.

Love you all…

 

When the dust settles…

Dust. It’s everywhere. From the second we moved in it’s like everyone doing work at our house decided to show up daily and do what should have been done before we got here. Hence the dust. By Friday it was rather quiet with just a few plumbers and a meeting with the window blind people. And I’ll be honest. As badly as I want this kitchen finished, I want everyone to get the hell out of my house. Anyone carrying a tool, wearing a tshirt that says blah blah blah electric, or fill in the blank heating and air conditioning. GO HOME.

No one wants this more than me except for maybe Bruiser. He doesn’t even bark at them anymore. Just gives them an eye roll and lays back down. I’ll be doing that too if it’s not over soon. I did answer the door in my pajamas on more than one occasion this week. Hair in a ponytail. Flip flops on my feet. My version of the eye roll.

The hubs was in Puerto Rico most of the week and I have chosen to move past my rage and hysterics about that. I kid. My hysteria will never leave my side. It was just a quick business trip and yes the timing sucked but what are you gonna do? Whine and moan about it all week? Absolutely. I kept him updated with pics. He was in the same time zone so that helped. And he still kept up his constant email stream to the contractor. I gave up on that weeks ago. But he’s no quitter. And for that I’m grateful.

Bruiser has been my main concern all week. He lived his whole life at our other house. The only time he seems ok here is when he’s asleep in my bed. During the day he paces the floor. Tail down. He likes going outside, but he’s not a fan of hearing the announcer from across the lake at the ball field. I know he misses seeing the mailman everyday so he can bark his head off until that little while mail truck can no longer be seen. I decided to open the front door and let him go out with me, without his leash. He just stood there in the driveway. Staring at me. Like what do I do now? So I put the leash back on him and while daddy was gone we took walks together down the driveway in the evening, just the two of us. It was nice. I think maybe it’s so quiet sometimes that it freaks him out.

I hope I don’t sound like a complete Debbie downer. A negative Nellie. A irritated Iris. It was actually a very productive week. It’s the dust people!!!! Cough. Cough. It clogs up your happy! Besides, if I’m going to be a pessimist, I’m taking you all with me. Know that now. We’re in this together! You feel me? Good.

We’ve spent the weekend unpacking boxes, running errands, and still eating takeout. Today we will do as little as possible. My mother-in-law won’t be in town for Easter so she is making us a home cooked meal and bringing it over. I’m gonna break out the real plates and silverware for that.

As soon as I rinse the dust off…

 

Here’s a few pics from the week…

We just need paint, subway tile, a downdraft that works,
refrigerator doors that line up, and an oven door that doesn’t have a ding in it.

 

Attempting to get organized.

 

A cool evening walk with Bruiser.

 

Unpacking new dishes. Bubble wrap heaven.

 

Thursday night lights from the ball field across the lake.
Go Eagles!

 

Wrapped in mommy’s pashmina and sleeping like a baby.

 

 

Green acres is the place to be…

Ok it’s not ALL green but you get my drift! We now actually live on more than a postage stamp! And I can barely see one neighbor’s house and that’s only through a window in my bathroom. We’ve gone rural y’all! Can I tell you a secret? We have NO idea where our property line is. We meant to have a survey done but it’ll have to wait. I don’t even have a complete kitchen. So. Priorities.

Moving day dawned bright and early Friday morning with me and French Zoila busy as bees. The hubs was running things here at the new crib and I’m not gonna lie. I was just a tad jealous. He had a small team here setting up networks and tv’s and satellites and all sorts of crap. I’m pretty sure we actually CAN see Russia from our front yard. Meanwhile back at the old hizzle, we were packing clothes into those cardboard moving wardrobes. Which, I must say, are the best thing since sliced bread. Because I keep practically everything on hangers.

The movers were amazing. Quick. Efficient. Took excellent care of my things. Loaded up my entire house in three hours. Two Men And A Truck. Tell them I sent you. The only thing we didn’t bring were the kitchen cabinet contents. I will joyfully move those myself when I have cabinets to put everything  in. All in all it wasn’t too bad. Although my old house looked sad. It needs a new family and I hope it gets one soon. It’s a great house with great neighbor’s who mind their own business but if you need help, they’d show up. Good people.

So here we are. In our new home. And I’m still crying. Only now it’s because I’m just so completely and totally grateful and blessed. I told the hubs at the end of the first day here, that I hadn’t felt this lucky since our wedding day. And it’s true. The kids came over. We had some takeout. Mady was thrilled to find her own little flat screen in her room. (Her parents don’t allow it at home. But we did tell them we were doing it.) She laid in her floor and watched Teen Titans. Danced around. They all took a walk down to the water. We would’ve joined them but by that point I probably would have just rolled right into the lake.

Last night I took a shower and washed my hair and leisurely sat in my big ole bathroom and dried my weave. I told my BFF I felt like a low rent Lisa Vanderpump. I get it now with the big bathrooms people. I get it! It’s the air. The space. I made the biggest damn mess you have ever seen and it was fabulous! Towels strewn all about. I couldn’t find a thing so I was digging through drawers like a mad woman trying to find the right brush. And then it hit me. You’re no Lisa Vanderpump. You’ve got to clean all of this up!

Today will be the first Sunday dinner at Green Acres. However due to the fact that we have no cooking devices we’ll pick up some delicious takeout. Which is perfect if you think about it. That way I can just throw the dishes right out the window just like Eva Gabor did. Because I’m pretty sure they’ll be paper. Or plastic…

We are fancy now ya know.

 

Here’s a few pics from the homestead…

 

I love the cowhide. And I love my chair by the window.

 

The view yesterday from my chair. Lots of fishing going on. Seems our cove might just be a hot spot.

 

We had this odd niche above the fireplace in the living room.
Didn’t have a clue what to put there. Then I saw it. The cross. The one I told you all about. Meant to be.

 

Working on the entryway.
And attempting to repurpose items I love.
It’ll get there. I have to sit with it a while.

 

And there she is.
Your low rent LVP.
Also, I washed my hair with conditioner. Fatigue people.
It’s no joke.

 

 

The last supper…

Do you say dinner or supper? Growing up we always said supper. I think I started saying dinner because the hubs did. I can’t remember. Or maybe I thought ‘dinner’ sounded classier. Either way I’ve decided today I’m going to say supper. I love this little sleeper movie with Sally Field and James Garner, Murphy’s Law. He would ride horses at her ranch and she would say ‘stay to supper’ and he would and she liked him but was gun shy. In the end she says ‘stay to supper Murphy’? And he says “no, I won’t do that, not unless I’m here for breakfast”. And she says “how do ya like your eggs”. I love that movie.

So today is the last Sunday supper at this house. We are scheduled to move Friday whether the work is done or not. The floors are done. And that was the biggie. So the movers are hired and packing has commenced. And I’m having occasional bouts of tears. The last Sunday morning in bed here in this house. It just feels like so many ‘last’.

A lot of good things happened here in this house. And some bad. We found out we would be grandparents downstairs in the den. We took care of my daddy here in this living room until he passed. You know I never felt sad using that room again. Only peace. My kids drove me nuts in pretty much every single room but they left this house to go live on their own. It still never seemed empty though. Probably because they left so much of their stuff.

Packing up is exciting but very emotional for me. I tend to have to sit and go through things. Tossing out some junk here and there. But for the most part enjoying little finds. Almost all the closets have been cleaned out except two. The hubs has his areas to take care of. I told him yesterday, it’s crunch time, either you pack it up or I toss it. And I will. Trust me. I’m like the anti-hoarder.

Today I’m cooking the perfect pot roast in my new shiny red Dutch oven. With some carrots and onions and mushrooms. Creamed potatoes. Deviled eggs. Mac ‘n cheese. Buttermilk biscuits. Kickin’ it old school supper style. There will be cake. And coffee. And I wish you all could join us. But you can’t. For one, they don’t make roast that big, and two, well you just can’t. I’m tired and the last thing I need is company for supper. Geez people.

Good Lord willing and the creeks don’t rise, next weeks blog will be coming from a new spot. I hope I’m feeling inspired and won’t just bore you all to tears with nostalgia. Until then, may you all have the most beautiful Sunday.

And if family or friends stop by, ask them to stay to supper…

Here’s a few pics from my week.

 

Breakfast in bed.
Don’t have a hissy, it’s not like he cooked it. But I’m grateful nonetheless.

 

Packing up my treasures. Daddy’s ring. Granny’s pearls.

 

Have you ever? I’m telling you people, she is precious.

 

The love of my life. (Rudely checking an email at dinner last night. He put the phone away)

 

Seventeen years ago. Just settled in here. Good times.