Okay, Here's A Funny Thought

You're excited aren't you Dear Reader, you can't wait to see the disclosure that is gonna follow that title.

Well, I was too, I was chuckling the whole time on the way to the computer and putting up a nice clean "Create Post" screen.

Loaded these pics just so you could have something to look at instead of just print. They had nothing to do with the story.

I was squirming in my seat with inexpressible mirth, no simple ROFL or teehee or sideways smile using punctuation marks would sufice even if I loved using those devices.

I had somthing quite funny, over the top hilarious, a gauranteed pants dampener, up my sleeve for you Dear Reader.

But then I was called away from the laptop.

And when I returned, excited to write, I realized that I had completely forgotten what I was going to tell you. No really, completely forgotten. I don't remember the subject, the players, the time of day, nothin' nadda. Cannot bring anything up on the brain screen to pull it out of the hat.

In a way I suppose that in itself is a funny thought, or would that be a non-thought?

Pappy has got me all stirred up with his Analyze This post today. I was all ready to have a go at it but once again was called away to discuss fencing issues, go to the feed store with the Dirt, do this that and the other thing and when I got back the comments had turned woohoo heated. Okay a darn right cat fight broke out in Texas this afternoon!

Well actually, the claws went from Canada to Texas to NewEngland, then we went on into New Jersey for a little innocent "my, mying", stoppin off in Ohio for some cheerleading, off to "where ever" for some extra ammo for Pappy and the rest, only for me, here in the upper corner of our fine country, to arrive right after Pappy called for group hugs! I don't hug (somebody's gotta be dying for me to do that) and I haven't said anything yet, I feel like a used party balloon. Deflated.

But this here is not the time for me to yap about that. I just wanted to finish what I started today, even though I really couldn't, and now a beautiful roast turkey, mashed taters, gravy and peas, with a lovely glass of sumpin' from the cellar is waiting for me. I have to translate the second letter I found in grandpa's trunk before Monday, I really need to deal with Elisa sometime soon, I want to go over to Kathy's when Dirt shears, I have a duck barrier to put up, the rest of the onions to plant, beds to uncover and fluff, toms and broc to start....

And then there is the new blog I started today for my married daughters to easily have their momma's recipes, it was a brain storm I had when second oldest interupted my onion planting today for a recipe, reminding me I really need to write out recipes and put them in a book for them but then I had a brilliant idea! So the old noggin ain't dead yet! but even if in the middle of the night tonight I do think of the humous thing I had to say, your outa luck, 'cause I intend to sleep a regular nights sleep tonight! I am not even going to take the lap top anywhere near the bed!

Wait, one more thing and then you can go with a clear conscience. You know the childhood jingle, "liar, liar, pants on fire" well I need one for pot stir-ers. You know, the person who puts inflamitory stuff out there and then is surprised and wants to dial people back. - hey I do the same, I wanna say what I wanna say but when I get a fire started then I want to come in with a fire hose. Just sayin. And by the way I have used that jingle, liar, liar on my very own self before.

Hey, Dear Reader if I don't talk to you too soon I just want to let you know, if you're struggling or sick or sumpin', I'm pullin' for ya, you're in my prayers. If I know you, like Lisa said, "face to face" or "blog to blog", I know you enough to pray for you. So now you know, you have a crazy mean talkatve lady praying for you with folded grubby garden hands, arencha lucky? But God is good and He knows our needs and my sentiment, He is good and He alone can turn the world on its axis.

I'm Up, I'm Out

Hey check it out, I'm up, dressed (that alone is a miracle because I can do a lot of things in my jamies, except go to the store, even out door chores
'cause I have a rain suit sitting right over my boots, fireman style)

Dirt took the girls with him today to the areoplane fest, so I was greeted with a blast site in my kitchen, dining room and living room. (We didn't have a living room when I was growing up, instead we called the room with the couch and easy chairs the front room.) The mess was caused by the fact that while we were at our friends house last night their children were here. The girls are like me, when you have company who wants to clean, you can do that when you have been abandoned to yourself.


But in a matter of minutes, minutes I tell you, I consolidated the entire mess into the sink and dirty dish counter,


And the garbage.

So my peninsula counter is clean now,

And so is this counter, (isn't the towel ucky looking, but this is my seed sprouting station and the seeds drip brown water. I'll change it today when I start a new batch of sprouts.)


And this counter is clean, trust me they had every counter completely trashed. Ahhh and you can see I have even pressed my morning coffee and a cup or two is already missing. That's because I had a cup while making my bed, and tidying up and the second cup is


for my banana cream pie breakfast. Dear Reader are you really going to force my hand at rationalization... What do you have for breakfast? A couple of eggs, some sort of grain product, maybe with a little butter on it, a glass of milk and some fruit? What do you suppose is in my banana cream pie? So there you go, a fine breakfast food and because it is homemade, from scratch mind you, there are no hideous chemical stabilizers to destabilize my brain and stabilize the chub on my middle parts.


While I dined in relative solitude, the ratters are here with me today, I took time to go through the seed drawer for today's gardening endeavors,

and to sit with a book that I need to consult for my menu plan, thanks to the reverse psychology of LindaSue, (I secretly think Dirt contacted her to phony up that whole thing about menu and budget so that I would open my big encouragement mouth and then feel the shame of pinballness myself).

Oh and I'll take a few minutes this morning before I head out to weed and prune, and read a little smack down from the ultimate in smack downers. A.W. Tozer. Ow ow ow, is all I gotta say.

After reading Tozer and dealing with me wee personal life, I definitely need to make sure I am feeding my brain an anti depression diet. You know, if family members and near family members would quite making it a habit of dying in the fall and winter and if other people who's souls I care for deeply would quit being burdened in the fall and winter, maybe, just maybe, I could have an early spring that isn't spent pulling myself out of depression.

But what the heck, you know it is George Washington's birthday today. Man he is old. I was reading up on him last night and how he escaped death constantly, bullet holes in his jacket, hat shot off his head, two horses shot out from under him, and that was just one day. Not just on the battlefield did he defy death, he also had many bouts of sickness, any one of which was known to be deadly. Clearly one might say that he was destined to be our first leader.

There were many very interesting bits of information that I read last night and hopefully later today I will find a little book that he wrote on civility to share with you Dear Reader, but of interesting note to me last night in my middle of the night research, was something I did not know. George Washington suffered depression. Thomas Jefferson essentially called him Gloomy Gus, his exact words: “in all aspects of his life, [Washington] was inclined to gloomy apprehensions.” I knew that he was often thought of as a little sour but the historians that I have read in the past chalked it up to his ill fitting teeth.

Ran across a book of psychiatry last night that actually questions our use of antidepressant medicines, some of the writer's thinking was based on all the hugely important thinkers and leaders who suffered depression before the advent of brain chemistry altering drugs. Which on the average I agree with, I don't think we should all be so extremely "normal" but when you start staring at sharp objects and large trucks I think it is time to maybe change up the old brain chemistry a little so that you can think about things that are important. After all, God gave us food and drink to help us over come our ailments so we can get on with things.

Ahh, what the hay would I do with my time other wise? Gotta stay occupied with something eh? Why not occupy myself with the intricacies of brain chemistry? (I ate the pie, and drank my coffee before I started reading. I'm not dumb enough to think that I won't succumb to guilt, duhuh!) The brain chemistry reading is for a menu to start on Wednesday, I'm an ol' Catholic girl and the Church calendar says that the season of self-denial doesn't start 'till Wednesday. So until then it is Random Rhonda, Sugar Sally, and Budgetless Bambi all rolled into one Lazy Lanny at your service, what can I rationalize for you Dear Reader? Better think of something quick because fun and frivolity come to a screeching halt on Ash Wednesday!

Things have thawed out and the sun is still shining, (liar liar pants on fire little mister weatherman) so I can go grab myself some vitamin D and mood boosting sunlight, and so that Dirt will be happier with me when he gets home, the dear man worries about my brain chemistry more than I do, so I oughta honor that eh?

And I am sure Dear Reader, that you have had enough of my run on sentence structure (is that structure if it is run on?) and liberal sprinkling of commas, so you are off the hook for a while. But I will be back, with some wit not wisdom, as usual, later today. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug (for my girl readers) and a "get out there and absorb the weather God gave you today!"

Clearly, Clearly I've Changed

Clearly Dear Reader, you are not confident that I would not give you things like lamb tails. But really I would only do that if you were that type of person. Oh, oh, I feel a story brewing up....

After reading her posts about her sisters' visit and the pranking that went on, this one is inspired by Kathy at Spot on Cedar Pond, now and also when the story first unfolded. And if I were still the same woman I was in this story, yes, I could understand your reluctance Dear Reader, to take me up on my offer of a prize. But honest, I've been rehabilitated, it was the shock therapy, I am no longer the same pppperson.

Kathy and I used to be in 4-H, as leaders, project leaders, superintendents of barns, moms. This meant that we were at the county fair and sleepless for days. Now I am not blaming the sleeplessness for my actions mind you, I'm just saying when you leave Lanny up all night you have to expect that many more hours of shenanigans.

Kathy superintended the Poultry Barn, I can't remember which job I was on at the time, but Terry, my partner at the Sheet Diet, was helping in the Cat Barn, yes, you heard correctly there is a Cat Barn at the County Fair. I had swung by and was hanging out with Kathy while she locked up her barn one night during the fair.

She always had terrific educational and inspirational displays up at her barn, one of them was a brooder of just hatched out chicks.

Time out here in the story for a little lecture: Next time you are visiting a fair, primarily run by volunteers, and you come across a brooder of hatching and just hatched chicks, remember that the volunteer had to time it just right, tend a incubator at their home for the better part of a month just so that you could have the delight of seeing baby chicks hatching and running around in a brooder.

Kathy did that every year along with collecting entries, dealing with the paid staff of 4-H and the fair, making other educational displays, grooming some of her own birds for said displays, talking her husband into building things for or fixing a building that they did not own and the fair/park service didn't care to help with. Dealing with kids, (usually fun) and their parents (not usually fun), making sure that the judge she hired earlier in the year showed up, setting up for the show, keeping kids on task while their do birdsmanship..... Okay I'm done with my lecture lets get on with the story.

She was tiding up her barn and had just collected up a chick that didn't make it in the brooder box. "Ahh, too sad. Okay, what garbage can is safe to chuck it into?


Then the wheels began to turn, with Kathy's help I am sure, I'm positive she had the first thought of it. You know she really deserves the credit here.

Terry was in charge of putting up prizes on this big board displayed down in the Cat Barn. The prizes were for the kids who did herdsmanship, they were allowed to pick a prize when they were done. Many of the prizes were different cat toys that "Fluffy" might like for his/her owner to pick.

Terry had told me just that day that she had to arrive early in the morning every morning of the fair, open up the Cat Barn and put the new prizes for the day up on the board before the kids arrived for the day with their kitties. She had to get there early so she could finish before they began to hover around her, because they wanted to know right away what they were working for and she doesn't do hover. So I knew that she would arrive before anyone else. I was confident.

So Kathy locked up the Poultry Barn, while I held little flat chicky in my devious paw. We walked down to my trailer and grabbed a zip lock bag for chicky, just like the bags that all the other "cat toys" were placed in. We sat around and waited to make sure that everyone was gone from the cat barn. The Cat Barn superintendents don't have animals to deal with at night like up in the livestock barns, all the cats and children leave the cat barn at nine at night, so when they were gone, they were gone.

Well the time had come, all was quiet in the cat barn, the adjoining rabbit barn and there were just a few non-curious stragglers in the Fair Office through which we gained access into the Cat Barn with the deception of "I have a note I need to hang on Terry's board so that she will see first thing in the morning."

"Oh Terry, I cannot wait, I wish I was this little leftover plastic mouse so I could see your face in the morning." I pinned that dead little chick now a "cat toy bar none" right smack in the center of the award board. Kathy and I giggled a little as we envisioned the shock on Terry's face and all that she would say as she took the dead chick down. Ooops, did I say dead, that was rather calloused wasn't it, "the deceased chick" is what I should have said.

The next morning I was busy at work setting up the arena for what ever small livestock was showing that day when I got called to the Office.

There stood a very stern looking Cooperative Extension 4-H Program Assistant. Okay, truth be told I still had no idea that I was really in trouble because she always looked stern especially at me because I was constantly causing trouble, mostly in the form of "why can't we accomplish this or that, it really can't be that hard can it?" I was one of those thorns that "they" alternately wished they could get rid of and then had to give awards to for all I got done. Burn out comes quick and hard to us types by the way if we are not well fed and cared for. Any who, I really couldn't think of what I had done now so I stood dumbfounded in front of her.

"LeeAnn, did you do something in the Cat Barn last night?"

"Uh, maybe." I sorta 'fess with a smirk building in my countenance.

"Well we have some crying sobbing children in the barn now this morning. They were quite shocked."

I immediately felt bad. That was not my intent. Yes, I think it is grandly silly that we have a Cat project and a Cat Barn, but my own kids had at times shown cats, well mostly just Michelle (it explains a lot), but really I don't not like the Cat Kids, its not their fault that they don't get to show real animal. I wouldn't want to make them cry. I figured that they couldn't handle dead stuff, it really wasn't my intent for them to find it.

But then I wasn't sure, was that a tale tell smirk on Nancy's face, where, by the way, was Kathy?

"But what happened to Terry?" I blurted out. "Terry was supposed to find it. Not the girls."

"Terry was late this morning. So the kids found it themselves." Man if this is a double back trick on me she is good at keeping a straight face, but I am positive that I can see a little smirk, but maybe I just want to see one.

Do you know how hard it is to apologize seriously and not laugh at the same time. Come on. Really how bad could a flat chick be to see in a bag. It wasn't bloody. But on the other hand I know that my kids are unusual and mercenary and yeah I get it, I'm sure some of them will be scared for the rest of their lives and I am sure that their parents will indulge the "horror" of it all. All I can say in my defense was that I had no intention of the children seeing the flat dead chick in a bag. But I guess it is people like me that give people like Bee phobias for the rest of their lives (see her comment about birds on my post One Of My Favorites Return ) . I oughta get a kick back from all the therapists in the area I tell ya.

So I promised never to pull a stunt like that again and I left the Office a whipped pup with my tail tucked between my legs thinking I will never get this whole adult business down but secretly wondering if Terry and Kathy were hiding somewhere having a giggle of their own.

"Lanny, have you reformed?" you ask quizzically Dear Reader. I understand your reluctance in believing that I have. But let me reassure you beyond a shadow of doubt that I have reformed. To the core. I am no longer the same woman. Yes, I am reformed, I no longer volunteer.