Redneck Lympiks a Success

What a wonderfully redneck weekend it was...

pictures and details tomorrow hopefully, if I can get a hold of Kelly and Meg's camera.

But, most importantly, the standings for the Redneck Lympiks:

Fellars:
Gold--Daniel
Silver--Aaron
Bronze--Pat

Hoochies:
Gold--Laura
Silver--Meg
Bronze--Kristin

Sheridan rocks the house!

...and when Sheridan rocks the house she rocks it all the way down. uh!"

Sorry--accidentally reverted back to my cheerleading days there. It's like a disease that you can never kick. I'd say flare ups but that just has horrendous connotations.

We had cooking club last night. Here's a picture of a lovely lady you can stalk from random addresses in Utah, and a sweet little baby named Sheridan. Grilled food also rocks the house...all the way down.

Do your ears hang low...

It's amazing how music influences your body sometimes. Just the sound of a tapping drum can evoke passion and excitement. What I'm about to tell was a very different case.
I was running last night, and I saw the ugly mug of the ice cream truck approaching. I could hear that clanging dying ice cream truck song from several blocks away. This new way of adding backbeats to the song is fairly annoying and a bit too hip hop for ice cream. But, back to the point. As it passed me, it immediately went from a song that one would consider joyous and reminiscent of happier times to the saddest most pathetic sounding song ever. Suddenly it was in super slo-mo, and in a minor key and getting worse. I instantly felt like I had lead in my feet, and my run was screeched to a stop. How sad is it that your happy "fly a kite go round the carousel" song passes you and the humid skank air changes it to a clown's death march within seconds. I don't like how sound changes depending on what side of it you are. Why does sound have to be so territorial. It's always talking about "my side of town vs. yours". It's just wrong of sound.

there's a first checked off the list

Well, it definitely wasn't on any list, but I just tried my first salt water taffy. Weird, I know. Heck--I didn't have a milkshake until I was in 10th grade.

someday they'll get it

faux pas--using "reply to all" unless everyone on the whole e-mail chain actually needs to read what your little 'ole opinion is.

Fear the Zucchini!

Little did Laika know, the zucchini had been plotting to take her role as family pet for the entire summer.

Honestly, there were no growth hormones injected, or Miracle Gro used. I see a lot of zucchini bread in my future...muwha ha ha.

Things that annoy me

1. having to curl up the garden hose around the garden hose holder. Every time you have to twist it it just pulls the part of the hose that you just got up on the holder off. It's a horrendous chain of events
2. when someone calls you and it's a wrong number and then they ask who you are. Sorry, but it's none of your business. Or they just hang up on you rudely.
3. while we're on phones, the stupid stupid voicemail lady that I know at least Verizon has. "AT the tone please record your message. When you are finished recording you may hang up or press 1 for more options. To leave a call back number press 5. " I'm basically sure that most people know how to leave a voicemail on a machine. Even if they aren't familiar with voicemail and might not be able to access their own, they know how to leave a message. You want to know how--because you record your own message that says " Hi this is girl. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you". Therefore (if I was writing this I would make the symbol with the 3 dotted triangle that you use in math equations) this twitty lady doesn't need to come on and tell you this long schpeel. The whole thing is dhastardly extended beyond how long it should be to leave a quick message. btw, has anyone ever actually done any of the things she mentions--NO. Because she is a twit.
4. foaming soap dispensers. Not just foaming soap in general, but the fact that soap can look absolutely fine in a bottle, like normal lathering soap, and after you press this button it comes out as a little foam turdlet. I don't want foam. I want lather. That's why I bought soap that was normal.

oh no, it's not fixed

*note full use of sarcasm writing below*

Nothing better than spending the night in the basement to try to escape the 90 degree heat of Washington, DC without A/C. Oh wait! Putting an additional $3-4K on my already floundering credit cards definitely trumps that.

I love him dearly, but...

Our A/C was broken on July 3rd. It was a wonderful "screw you" for the holiday weekend. Several wallets worth later, it seemed to be fixed. Then Sunday I say "hey, we should really replace the filter. I'll be a generous person and go to Home Depot and get that stuff, as well as spray paint for our upcoming Redneck BBQ." You can't hold me to my womanly duties at all times. I'm a strong woman who can go into uncharted Depot territories, scouting the dirty and grimy plastic baggies of assorted nails and screws and compound joints. Or something like that.

I'll be honest. I don't even know where the filter exists in the furnace. There's a lot of things about owning a house that you learn once you get to that problem. At least that's the way I passively pursue it. So, we figure out where the dang filter is and I go buy the right sized one. I finally return home and it's hotter than Hades in our house. I cringe at the thought of a hot sleepless night and a gigantic service bill. Could our A/C be broken again? So Daniel goes down and looks at the furnace. Whew--he just didn't put the cover back on and the furnace doesn't work without the cover being on. 1 point docked for him, but I'm happy he realizes the fault quickly.

Fast forward to yesterday. It was a hot drive home in traffic, and I had to stop at 2 grocery stores on the way. Luckily they are within .5 mile from each other, but still annoying nonetheless to get in and out of the car--reverse, drive, park--rinse and repeat. I'm in a triflin' mood as I walk through the front door...and it's hot. It's not that burst of cold air I was longing for the last hour. It's a lukewarm puff of breath. No no no. Not on this already angry evening. Not when it's 94 outside and the middle of July. Daniel hadn't noticed it. The thermostat read 80. The fan's running this time (initial problem), but the air isn't cold. But when we look out back the whole line is frozen solid! Why why why is the outside cold and the inside hot. Whew--he figured it out again and luckily the problem seems to be solved. Quite simply it's because the filter was installed backwards. Point of the story--they should really print full directions on the side of the furnace because you know we didn't get a manual before we moved into the house. Second point--remember the way something looks before you take it apart. It'll be easier to put it back together.

long overdue

Well, I'm long overdue for a post. I'm sure you've missed my randomness.

My thought yesterday began with the consideration that our oversaturated swamp--I mean, land--from the incessant rains will bring out more mosquitos than ever this summer. DRAT! This lead to the thought about if there was anyone/thing out there that actually loved mosquitos. Do entomologists just let mosquitos jump in and dig in? Or do they obliterate them, leaving the blood spatter on their arm to be washed away by their tears?