Curses!

Mom has a large potluck at her house every year, one that involves hundreds of people (usually older folk), motorhomes, port-a-potties and the occasional banjo or fiddle, if we're lucky (and when I say lucky, I mean, awwww yeah!!). This year the potluck was considered a success, until about two weeks later when I got a phone call from my very distressed mother.

Mom: The chest freezer must have gotten unplugged when we were unplugging Bill's RV, the water cooler and whatever else!!!

Me: That's not good. (At this moment, I actually remembered unplugging one of the many extension cords, but I stayed silent. Very silent.)

Mom: * angrily and accusingly * Now I have to throw everything away. INCLUDING MY WEASELS!! AND MY ELK HEAD!

Me: Mom, I didn't know you had more than one weasel. Are you talking about weasels, plural, and not the one in the house freezer? Because when I was at your place last, I saw him there propped up against a bag of broccoli and he was still frozen solid.

Mom: Well yes, remember that one I found on the side of the road and brought home for you to see?

Me: Oh yes. Now I remember, with the blood dripping out of its still warm body?

Mom: Will, that one too. (She chronically misspells the word "well." I can hear the misspelling when she speaks.)

Me: !

Mom: Anyway, now I'm upset! Because I have to throw out the weasels, elk head, my pheasant, the rabbit furs....all of it is gone!! I AM SO UPSET!!! When are you going to come over and help me clean it out?

Me: As much as the idea of helping you throw out rotting animal carcases appeals to me, I'm just not sure if I'll be able to come over this weekend.

Mom: Sigh! MY WEASELS!!


Stay tuned for "Part II: Silence of the Lambs Mysterious Animal Parts"

What the??

I was sitting outside on Mom's front porch while she was taking a phone call when I heard her say, "Yeah, that's the spot." I looked inside to see what she was talking about when I saw this:



I kid you not. Apollo massaging Mom's feet with lotion! I was shocked! After I picked up my chin, I took a photo so I could preserve evidence of Apollo's sucking up.

Apollo pointed out to me later that he had to wear gloves because "Mom's feet were hurting me."
I really don't know what to say.

Mom's obsession

My mom is obsessed with firewood. She not only collects it for herself, but for us, my aunt and grandma. After a storm she drives through the mountains on isolated gravel roads, the kind with bear and elk poop on them, looking for windfalls. After she finds one she contacts the Forest Service, or whomever the tree technically belongs to, and gets the appropriate permits. Once when we helped carry off partially cut wood chunks, we had to drive 20 minutes into the mountains to find the downed tree. She is serious about her tree hunting.

She also gleans trees from logging sites. This last time, her stepson was nice enough to leave some of the smaller trees unharvestable trees behind for her.



This last time, my cousin James helped out by sawing up the wood. I don't remember how many truck loads we got out of this, but it took several hours to cut, load, haul to Moms and then unload.



That tiny man is Apollo standing next to giant piles of brush waiting to be burned so the area can be replanted with trees. After replanting, the trees can be logged again in about 50 years. Renewable resources are awesome. And look, small plants are already starting to grow under the mess!



This is one thing I missed about Oregon: huckleberries! As kids we used to pick wild fruit and plants to eat while playing in the woods. Gone are the days of exploring the wilderness and enjoying edible fruits of the land, now we glean fallen trees. All. Year. Long.

Mom's bush. (LOL)

So last weekend, Apollo and I went to Mom's to take care of this huge bush that keeps trying to over her sidewalk. Mom liked it because she could hide behind it when the elk invaded the yard and when strangers parked down by the barn. The problem is, the elk could hear or smell her and would take off. And the strangers down by the barn, well, what good was it to hide behind a gigantic bush that she couldn't even see through to shoot at them? After some "discussion," I was finally able to talk her into letting us remove it.



I called cousin Nate (owner of the Booty Pirate tattoo) and he brought over a chainsaw. Apollo used Mom's chainsaw and the two of them attacked the nearly 8 foot tall bush. Of course, Nate had to take several pot smoking breaks and a neighbor came to visit with some beer, so it took more than a few hours to get it cut down and the limbs removed.



Mom loves the new look but is now talking about planting a climbing rose bush arbor in its place. Apparently she hasn't learned any lessons. Then again, I think she'll be able to slide a rifle through the trellis to shoot at trespassers and thieves so it's a win/win in her book.

Pruning apple trees and why didn't Mom just give Peanut that "_fill in the blank_" in her freezer instead of letting the dogs fight over a dead rat?

A couple days ago we left for another visit with Mom. She's constantly in need of help with chores around the house and since we're both unemployed, we're glad to help. Plus Apollo is glad to be doing something productive. (He hasn't caught the knitting fever. Something tells me he won't be catching it any time soon.)

While there, Mom and Apollo started attacking the apple trees with fervor. Luckily I'm too short and we had only one ladder, so I walked around and took pictures or "helped" by holding the ladder. (It was a long hard day of labor for me!) I don't know much about pruning trees but Grandma swears Mom is butchering them. Either way, her trees produce an abundance of apples each year, more than we can eat, preserve or give away. This is just one of the apple trees that has been on the property since the early 1900s.

The driveway leading down between a cherry tree, an unseen stream (Mom's water source) and a shed.

Cattle responding to a dinner call in another field across the creek, which lies just on the other side of those bushes lining the field. The location to the right of this photo is exactly where I caught my two trout last year.

The sky was a beautiful almost-clear blue but it was a chilly 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside.

Peanut is slowly losing sight in his one good eye (the other lost in a tragic No-That's-My-Dead-Rat fight with Boo, a dog three times his size) and his hearing is going as well. Sometimes I think it's because he has so much fur he can't tell where I'm standing when I call his name. But in reality, he's getting old. Poor little guy has seizures too.

Here he is enjoying a fresh hair-cut around his good eye. I usually give him a cut once a month when I visit since Mom will let it grow out like that sheepdog on the Warner Brothers cartoons and we just can't have that. Aimee and I were thinking he would look awesome with an eye-patch over his bad eye. While we're at it, maybe some hearing aids too. I'll have to work on that.

Trying to leave before 8am

We're off to Mom's. I'm not sure what we'll be doing today. Trimming apple tree's, repairing plumbing problems and cutting wood are all possibilities.

I'm assuming there may be some drama related to her computer too because Mom has informed me she has Computer Rage and is shutting down her Internet access. When Mom told me she had Computer Rage I thought that was a clever term but she wasn't quite in the mood for jokes.

Faythe wants Mom to have her own blog, what do you think?

This is the sort of thing I see when I open documents attached to Mom's emails.

Mom sent me a photo of bear poop. Yes. I come from a family that finds it important to be educated about all the different poops of the world. Sure, this came in handy for our ancestors who, for safety and food, needed to know what animal had been in the area and when. I live in San Diego, half a block from Starbucks and Walgreens.

There are four different bears hanging out at Mom's. Some of them are brave enough to visit during the day and ignore barking dogs or the banging of pots and pans. Mom's response is to salivate.

Which means I'll probably have a good "Bear in the Freezer" story for you soon. Run bear, run!!

Taking in the scenery

Mom and Aimee look across the bay towards downtown San Diego from Coronado. Mom's obsessed with the airplanes that seemingly fly between the buildings when coming in for a landing and always gets excited when she seems them: this is a great vantage point for watching plans "nearly" fly into buildings. Much of our time last year was spent trying to get near hit photographs. She's like a little kid when it comes to the airplanes.

The cats breaking Mom in

On Mom's first day, Zoe looked at Mom and then threw up on the rug in front of her. She then casually walked away, leaving Mom staring at the mess.

Today, the second day, Simba jumped out of the litter box, scooted his butt across the carpet in front of Mom and then ran off, rubbing poo into his fur and the carpet. While I caught the cat so I could clean up what remained stuck to him, I could hear Mom talking about the stink. I finally got to the poo that was matted into the carpet, all the while Mom begged me to cover up the remaining turds in the litter box.

I wonder what they have planned for tomorrow?

The usual holiday antics begin

Mom just called me from Emeryville, CA. She's currently on an Amtrak train because she mistrusts airplanes and is afraid of the heights. I may have neglected to tell her about all the recent train accidents.

Anyway, so she's in Emeryville and her voice sounds scratchy from lack of sleep - I can imagine her eyes are pretty big too from all the staring at people around her. She tells me a story about some crazy lady at one of the train stops. (There's always at least one crazy person on the train when she travels. One day she'll be the crazy lady everyone talks about.) Our conversation goes something like this:

Me: So your train is on time?
Mom: Yes, we were almost late but right now we're stopped at Emeryville...oh can you hear the guy on the loudspeaker?
Guy on loudspeaker: Next stop, Oakland. Please have your tickets and ID out.
Me: Yep, he said something about Oakland and to have your tickets and ID ready.
Mom: Did you hear? He said our next stop is Oakland and to have our tickets and ID out.
Me: .
Mom: Rayleen?? RAYLEEN!?
Me: I'm here, Mom.
Mom: Well I think I'm going to go since I'm losing you, I didn't hear what you said at all. I'm going to turn this thing off since the only charger I have is the one for the car and I don't have the type you plug into your house.
Me: Well, you can check the battery if you want and see how much power you have.
Mom: And plus when it rings, it wakes everyone up around me and I can't get it out in time to turn it off.
Me: You know you can turn down the volume.
Mom: And it's so loud....hey the chicken coop is finally done! Except I don't have any chickens.
Me: Mom, have you tried turning down the volume?
Mom: What? How do you do that?

And so on. Oh, it's going to be a fun week! I'll update you on my sanity as the week progresses.

Happy Birthday Aimee!

I don't remember the day Aimee was born. I was only 18 months old and in the hospital recovering from kidney failure. I suspect all the stress I caused Mom may be behind Aimee arriving two weeks early. But even though I don't remember her entering my life, I can't remember a time when she wasn't a part of my life. We were attached at the hip and did everything together.


As children, Mom reminded us constantly that we had only one sister and that we should always love, respect and protect each other. I'm glad she taught us this too because even though we went through a rough spot during our teens that may have included one or two physical altercations, we're now best friends. And yes, still attached at the hip. Thank goodness for unlimited long distance!

Despite those times she pulled my hair or bit my leg and left that scar, I don't think there could be a better sister out there. Thanks Aim, for being my little sis. Hope you had a happy birthday. :)

"I Hope Mom Likes Wool Socks" socks

I'm not sure if you can see the vine motif on the side, I put some paper inside the socks so you could see it a little better. These are for Mom, I'm not sure if she's going to like them or not. I didn't want to do anything too fancy since I figured she wouldn't like the "holes." She loves red though I think she's getting tired of red gifts. Oh well. We'll see how she responds.

Yarn: Blue Moon, Lovers Leap

Pattern: Vine motif taken from Dublin Bay Socks

I've been struggling with my new camera, I haven't taken the time to read the manual so for now this is the best I can do.

PS - You can find a better picture of this beautiful yarn by clicking here.

Mom using her evil powers for good!

Emails from my Mom are always interesting. Well, emails and all conversations. Nobody can say my Mom is boring! So this morning on the way to work I call Mom and wake her up. She says she was taking a little nap but really, who takes a little nap at 8:20 in the morning? Nice try Mom!!

The first thing she asks me is if I got her email yet. It seems she sent me an email at 2:11AM! When I got to work, I checked my email and first she tells me that she has just finished cutting the dogs fur and, "He is not a pretty sight." Poor thing! He's an old man and gets grouchy if the cat walks by him anytime after 7PM, which is his designated bed time. Can you imagine the horror he had to endure while Mom cut his fur all night long?

Next, she informs me that she's going to be doing some lobbying at the state capital, Salem. I, for one, think Mom would be a great lobbyist! I have no idea what she's lobbying for or against but Mom has the skill of nagging down to a T. And we all know that nagging yields a certain power.

Seen here with Liz and Mickey, Disneyland has an auto-switch off policy regarding nagging.

For example, one time when Aimee and I were around 8 and 9, we were driving by my Uncle Scott's apartment when she saw the door was open. So she did a U turn and went back to see what's up (I guess she knew he was gone). She ended up following two guys out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the parking lot with one hand on her hip, the other one with a finger wagging in the air. And her mouth? WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH

The thieves did their best to leave the apartment with my Uncle's personal items in their arms as quickly as possible. One of them finally turned around and looked at Mom and pointed a rifle at her. Without skipping a beat, she said "What, are you going to shoot me? My two daughters are in the car right there and are watching every move you make. Do you want to leave them motherless??" *sigh* I mean, MOM, they could have left us motherless! Or even worse, shot us all!!

Long story short, they left, she called the police and all ended well. At least I think I did. Well, we didn't get shot so that's good enough for me.

The only times nagging didn't worked out for Mom is when Aimee was supposed to clean her room. For some reason, Aimee passed out on the bed or floor whenever she was supposed to clean her room. Amazingly, some of my stuff would end up on her side of the room whenever that happened. WEIRD! No amount of nagging kept Aimee from losing consciousness or keeping her room clean. To this day she claims she's allergic to cleaning (this includes doing dishes, it makes her legs itch).

Anyway, I think Mom's finally found her niche. She's found something that will make good use of at least one of her finely honed evil powers!