Writers Stigmata. Fick, Feck, and cousin, dammit.

I am such a mess! I have some serious stigmata shit going on! No, I do not have blood oozing out of my palms and feet. I have writer's stigmata, a whole 'nother condition.
Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form
on your forehead. ~Gene Fowler (1890-1960)
There you have it, a condition that I have contracted. Writers stigmata. I joked with my writing group that I taped a nail, pointy side up on my keyboard so I could self-flagellate during the writing process to manifest drops of blood. See, in Gene Fowlers era, pen and quill or manual typewriter drew blood easier when the urge to bang your head on something during the process set in. Today's surfaces are more rounded and forgiving causing only minor discomfort when head bashing ensues, hence, the nail.

See? I really thought the whole writer's stigmata thing required actual rending of skin to be legitimate. I have since learned, that's not the case. It's a mythical, spiritual rending that must be experienced if you want to hear the Heavenly Tabernacle Choir break out in refrains of "Hallelujah" while the men in little white coats are carting your slobbering self off to the loony bin during your burst of creative genius.

This condition is sneaky and can hit you at the most mundane moment. One minute you think you're fine, happily typing along while patting yourself on the back for being the possible next "it" writer and then WHAM! You realize you're done. You're shit. You suck and you by God, better not quit your day job.

My name is Robin and my stigmata set in about 14 hours ago. I have a wonderful, supportive, amazing writer's group here and I was so excited that it was "my turn" to submit a couple of chapters of my WIP for critique! So, my "other" job has wound down so I had a whole day to dig out my story, polish chapters 1 and 2 and give it to my new best friends. I was elated!

Humming like a fairy tale worker bee, I opened the file...giggled and sighed over my masterpiece...printed both chapters and sat at the table with an actual pen and began to edit (again). I applied a lot of the things I've learned over the last year from the Writer's Conference in Amarillo to the "how-to" books I've purchased from the speakers there and elsewhere. I slashed scenes I liked but that did not "move the story forward", I checked spelling, punctuation....I looked at tone and tense...I questioned using first person narrative and stayed with it. I was on a roll! By 7:00 pm I was convinced that chapters 1 and 2 would be winging their way to my loving group for their enjoyment and fantastic idea's on how to make it better!

SO! I went back to the keyboard...literally typed the whole thing over from my handwritten notes...spell checked, grammar checked...and then did the unforgivable. I checked for passive verbs (a very common rookie mistake). We speak in passive voice so it's very easy to write in passive voice. However, when we speak we have the luxury of voice inflection, facial expressions, body language and other visual signals to make our point. We don't have that with words on paper so we have to use the strongest words we can...right?

So I did the "check" for passive verbs function. This function highlights every passive verb in your masterpiece. This function is an unforgivable bastard. I am convinced this function is the germ that weaseled into my mid-brain and set the writers stigmata into end-stage. I hit, "find" and my masterpiece came back into view....murdered. It's blood was yellow highlights. Humans have red blood (okay, it's blue without the addition of oxygen but stay with me). A manuscript has yellow blood. Mine was pricked by the passive verb function and was in danger of bleeding out.

I used "was" 42 times in 2,000 words! I became convinced that my story did not have the necessary anticoagulant so it was up to me to go in for emergency surgery and purge the passive voice...post haste. So I scrubbed up and went in. I tried to get every last tendril of the passive verb so that it would not cause any problems down the road for my precious manuscript. I sutured it up and then did a patient evaluation post op.

Sadly, my patient was sorely diminished by my radical surgery. A shell of the story she once was. (see? that damn word "was" is my demon!)

In despair I railed at fate and realized I was not God, I couldn't save this manuscript from it's true nature. I called a fellow writer moaning about the vagaries of writers stigmata. Solard had sympathy for like, one second. Then she blasted me with the complete truth. Writing is art and your voice is your voice. I told her about what I learned at the conference about passive voice and how it was a rookie mistake and about how I had fallen prey and she stated, "Robin, I am not a writers' conference veteran, but I'll tell you one thing, if a conference took the 'soul' out of my writing?....I'd never go to another one." God bless her! I was like a surgeon who'd lost a patient and stumbled into a church with a benevolent priest. While I am wailing about my inability to save a life I was gently reminded that there is a power greater than myself. That the "creator" was almighty and the surgeon was educated, but flawed.

So, I am going to give my manuscript over completely to the creator and shove the surgeon back into pre-op until it's necessary to do some minor cosmetic surgery. But for now, I'm going to trust that the Writing Goddess (me!) knows what she's doing and trust my wonderful group.

I'm kicking this out to my critique group...a first...and it sent me on this rant. If anyone out there wants to tell me that writer's are not hypersensitive and actually WANT critique...call me up and I'll call you a liar to your face. No, I don't want critique, I want accolades and refrains of "you're a genius! This is better than War and Peace!" Hey, at least I'm honest.

I'm a writer who has never received a rejection letter...ever. That's a major point in my favor. Shadowed by the fact that I've never submitted anything for rejection kinda makes the previous statement passe. See, right now I think I'm a good writer, maybe even excellent. If I put it out there and get shot down then I can't hold that thought and then....the men in little white coats.

So Fick, feck and DAMMIT! I am a nervous wreck and that shocks me. But I am going to submit my unedited, pre op version of my story. Listen to what my group has to say and THEN...edit edit edit.

Oh God...can you imagine me actually trying to send a complete manuscript to an agent/editor? I need sedatives or...wait...TRAVIS! TRAVIS!?....I lost hold of your shirttail! TRAVIS?

Glade, Mr. Clean and Other Stuff!

I'm back all 4 of my loyal readers! LOL! Things have been a little nuts in RobinWorld! That's not really an excuse now is it? We finished harvest, the "big press" awhile ago...I just haven't felt like "talking" to anyone, ya know? The election took a big hunk out of everyone's psyche, no matter your politics, it was the hugest political surge I've seen in my lifetime and it's all anyone could think about (myself included), So any and all of my mental meanderings and margin scribbles seemed even more superfluous than they already are! A lot of blogs seem to have a purpose...my BFF has an amazing gardening blog where she entertains, informs, educates and has great pics! Me? I just toss some BS observations out there, peppered with my personal ongoing life with a few laughs thrown in! What I get back though is amazing...you guys rock! So tonight, I kinda feel like talking.

Shouldn't mention that I've forsaken pro ball for college ball...and that I'm behind my Longhorns ALL THE WAY! But I just did.

Swore that I wouldn't mention President Elect Barack Obama. But I just did! I was sickened, disgusted and finally got downright angry at the eMails, and most especially the fwd'd text messages I got on my phone that were hideous, racist and vile. You know how I feel about racism, it's ignorant. When I went to the polls, race was not an issue, politics was. And regardless of who I voted for...Obama is now my president whether I like it or not and I take umbrage towards people who belittle my president. I mean, c'mon...I got an email that said they would rename the White House, the "jiggaboo igloo". That's not even clever and it's demeaning, ignorant, and hideous. I thought it wasn't worth a response...but then I rethought that! I texted back "Not even funny, that's my president, please remove me from you contact list re: this." I didn't vote for Obama (sorry Jackie)...but he is my Pres, I like him, always did I just wasn't sure he was the answer at this point. But I trust my fellow Americans, this is a democracy, he won, he's my President...and if one one other person sends me a demeaning message regarding his race...I just might blow. He is the president-elect of the United States and I am lucky to be a citizen thereof...I will fight to defend and honor and support him.

NOW! Onto more mundane things which happen to be my specialty! It started with Joe the Plumber and my new gf's and fellow bloggers site, who was kinda diggin' on him and lived not too far from him and one of her gf's remarked that he sorta looked like Mr. Clean. And she has a point.

The oxymoron slapped me upside the head. Mr. Clean? That's just crazy! For one thing, he creeped me out. Can you imagine, being down on your hands and knees scrubbing that stubborn stain, standing up, wiping the sweat from your eyes and the snot from your nose (c'mon, noxious fumes? You KNOW you have a snotty nose!) and seeing a 6+ foot bald man calmly leaning against the counter with housecleaning tips? I don't think so! I wouldn't cock my manicured hand that survived steel wool against my lean hip in skinny jeans and toss the lone curl out out my eyes to peer coquettishly out of my eyes and beg this man to tell me how to clean my kitchen.

Oh, hell no! It would be a short feminine, embarrassing scream as I race to the back to to let in my useless doberman as a diversion while I race upstairs to get my Colt .45~! Am I alone in this?

Another anomaly, The Bounty Guy. If he and I were friends I would have been frantically dialing him after letting in Cujo-coquette who would, by this time, be flirting with Mr. Clean ascertaining if he was a treat-man or a frisbee throwing type of guy. If Bounty Guy answered and was close, he could, conceivably, neutralize Mr. Clean before crazy white girl got back downstairs with a gun. Always good to have someone with "Bounty" in his moniker.

Okay, in my world, after Bounty guy cleaned Mr. Clean's plow...I think, then, it'd hit me. Why in God's good name do they have macho dudes advertising cleaning products? Seriously! I. Just. Don't. Get.It.

My SE has not bought, nor used, a household cleaning product since 2001. His answer to a stubborn stain would be acerbic acid (simple green is close enough thank you!). He digs chemicals! So, begs the question, why do they use men to sell products to a predominantly female market?

OOOO!? Is it because we trust a male marketer more? Well, yeah! Women are lying bitches I'm a thinkin'! Case in point? GLADE~ or GLAH-DAY~!

Think about it. Commercial number one is "OOOh are you baking a pie?" And she says, "Nooo, it's this new candle, from France..." And then she's busted with the Glahday reference. And THEN she invites the same chics over for Yoga and she's busted again! But my personal favorite is when she is in the bathtub with a Glade plug-in and she bald faced lied to her GF on the phone claiming she was at a spa and when there is a knock on the door from her husband and the GF says "who's that?" she says, "My aromatherapist! Gotta go!" And hangs up looking guilty as hell.

That's 3 commericals, and there's more I'm sure, I just don't watch enough tv~! But there is 3 in which I watched this compulsive, social climbing, bald faced liar! So back to my why do advertisers use men to sell household products? Especially 6 foot tall, bald ones with a penchant for sneaking into kitchens? Well! Now you know. Glade uses a compulsive liar, and then wants us to trust her enough to purchase her stuff! At the end of the commercial she always shows up looking sheepish and says, "It's Glade!" Like we were still clueless! She was busted, but instead of being proud of her product, and always being busted...she lies like a big dog!

Mystery solved. I don't think Mr. Clean or Bounty Guy had an ulterior motive, in fact, I'm kinda wanting to be their pal! But, Glade Chic...I'll hang out, maybe even buy the subtropical scent...but you can bet your ass I'm not going to trust her with a story from my childhood. Mr. Clean may be creepy...But Glad Girl is a vituperative liar! Am I wrong?

Bella, Reba and OMG!

Thanks for all the good wishes for Bella...now, who wants her? LOL! She's so back to her old self. Still has some pounds to drop (no pun intended!) but she's absolutely maniacal about the frisbee again. Like the jack russel in Dr. Doolittle? The one with OCD who keeps saying, "Throw the ball! Throw the ball! Pleeeaaassseee God! Throw the ball!" Yeah, she's back!

Though, in this photo it was "Throw the frisbee! Throw the fris...oh hell there's that damn camera again!"

Well, we've been getting rain, rain...dry's up a bit, then rains a bit. I just thought I wouldn't have to haul a load of silage this season...that I was SEMI-retired. Was making plans to get a hair cut tomorrow when SE called and informed me we would probably start chopping north of town tomorrow. YIKES! I'm nervous! Me and Lulu got along great. I can say I know how to drive a semi, got the CDL to prove it...but the truth is, I know how to drive MY semi...Lulu.

SE has been working hard to get "Reba" ready. Sunday I "test drove" her. And dammitall if I didn't remember how to do it! It was weird though. Reba is a 9 speed and Lulu was an 18. You'd think 9 would be easier but it's not. At least for me! SE drove her down the highway (couldn't do any dirt road testing...too muddy!) and I drove her home, into the driveway and into the shop...that's it! I haven't taken the bed up or down, backed her...nada! I'm sure I'll be fine...just nervous, it's been awhile!

She's 20 inches longer than Lulu, there were a lot of places Lulu and I couldn't go that the other trucks could because Lulu was long. So I worried about this one....SE assured me that this truck will turn shorter. Makes no sense to me how a LONGER truck can turn SHORTER! He said it had something to do with pi. I'd like to see Sara Lee take this puppy to the feedlot! But I trust him. Cross your fingers that I don't have another post with Reba laying down on the job! (You'll see why I named her Reba in a sec!) It's just that Lulu had that sleeper, shorter base, I looked in my mirror and there was my trailer, around corners...backing up...we were cool. In Reba, no sleeper, longer base...it's just awkward to turn a corner and get out my binoculars to see if her ass is clear! Here's the new addition and my workstation tomorrow!

Lotta daylight between me and that trailer! By the way...that's the same trailer that got laid over with Lulu. They fixed her up and painted her and she looks durn near brand new! Lulu is still in out-patient status. She'll go in this winter. We're going to have to do a hysterectomy (remove her sleeper) and straighten the frame, among other things...hopefully she'll be back in action next harvest.

Just in case you're wondering...this is how these trailers operate....

Yeah, when you put that thing 40 feet in the air and you got 20+ ton of silage pushing you off. It pays to know what you're doing. See? I'm nervous! I've only done it a jillion times...but in Lulu...not Reba. Ah well, it's like riding a bike!

I just wish writing a book was that easy...right!?!?!

Working on a rant, by the way. Was dying to post it this evening but I want to do more research...another "observational" post that is cracking me up. It's right in front of us day in and day out and I, for one, am questioning the wisdom of it. Would you? It's not political. It's advertising...see if you can guess before I post it! Hopefully I will in the next day or two.

SE is sure we are chopping tomorrow. But I'll bet when the third truck gets stuck beyond stuck...we quit! Feedlot has agreed to "pull us" but sometimes even that doesn't work! They hook my truck up to a 4-wheel drive tractor and pull me through the field until I am loaded, haul me to pavement and then hook up to the next truck. Not very efficient, very hard on equipment...we'll see how it goes but I'm thinking, uh-uh! Definately will take pictures of this fun though! I have been hauled through a field hooked up to a 4-wheel drive tractor, that was hooked up to another 4-wheel drive tractor...and they couldn't get me out! So SE hooked up the Chopper to both tractors, and me....it took about 80,000 horses to drag me to pavement! But hey, if the crops ready to go...it's gotta go! That sucked, I hope we never have to do that again! Do wish I had pictures of it though! But now that I have my new camera...I won't be without it!

Estrogen, Thyroid, and...tapeworms?

The "I don't have any children" disclaimer on the "about me" portion of this blog is not entirely accurate I don't suppose! Those of you who went through the whole stepson "C" know that! But I suppose it's time I introduce you to my baby girl!



But not before filling you in on my pre-menopausal (?) week. I am entirely too young to be pre-menopausal and I know that you agree (and those who know me are sufficiently afraid to to disagree, yes?). But how else to explain this recent turn of events, hmmm? I've been to the doctor, twice recently and received three different type of medications. One: estrogen. Two: Thyrotabs for hypothyroidism. Three: Tapeworms. Hmmm.



Okay, here it goes, my baby girl is 3 years old. Previously she'd been manic, hyper and borderline psychotic. But then she became listless, very overweight, loving, calm and sweet.

In short, not her highness at all!



She's my Bella, the funniest doberman on the planet. I've always had dobies, and my Beau I had for 13 years, when he died...I was inconsolable for weeks it seemed. Two years later I lost Buddha. Then SE and I got together, I was "off the road" and ready for another dobie, finally. Bella is a process of three years of negotiation! My main man, Beau, was huge for a doberman...and gay. I kid you not, he was my "english butler"...he always trained any other dog in the house (with my permission) because he didn't put up with this jumping around, having fun, bullshit. He always lay one "arm" over the other and said, "ru-uff" (two syllables) if he deigned to speak at all. He had impeccable bloodlines, and as an overly large male I couldn't show him per se, but people as far away as NY wanted his swimmer's if they had smallish females. And his disposition? Wonderful, K's girls were little and could climb all over him (I've pictures...sadly, before computerization of photo's...I should scan them! They'd lay on him, pull his ears, he didn't care. I take that back, he cared only because his nap was spoiled and his eyes would beseech me, "please put them down or outside where they belong?!".



ANYWAY, when I saw an ad for "large doberman puppies" I called the lady and we visited, she had one left, a female (I wanted another male...but dogs gone...). But then we discussed bloodlines and 'lo and behold...Bella and the late, great Beau, were related! I'd get another mild mannered sweetheart of a dog! Boy, doesn't God work in mysterious ways? SMACK!



I got Bella! From the word go she was into everything! She had so much confidence, and energy...and personality it was hard to stay mad for long after picking up yet another thing she had destroyed. Getting her through puppyhood was an ordeal. Mainly composed of me standing between her and SE pleading for her life?! He doesn't like her, at all. Here they are. This was in the "old house" though and she was a bit younger (and a lot thinner!). But you can see the hatred in his eyes. Can't you?



Faker! Bella looks big and mean. But if you have an opposable thumb, and can throw her frisbee at least one foot from where she gave it to you. You're in like Flynn. But fair warning: You must throw the frisbee until she is tired of catching it (she thinks she's a border collie) or she will pester to you to death! Utterly, tireless, or used to be.

So, I noticed her malaise, her weight really bothered me as I had cut her food back to nothing it seemed. I worried about heartworm, even though I gave her the medicine the mosquito's have been horrible. I worried about diabetes....I didn't know, then I looked at her, lying on the floor like a big, black rug, her eyes bore into mine, a little sad. A lot pleading, and it hit me! It's her thyroid! Duh! She actually smiled!

So I hustled her off to my vet. Namely to get her rabies shot and her nails trimmed (she hates it, will NOT let me do it!). Now, my vet had a stroke recently but he's so game and already back at work but his left arm isn't quite up to par yet...and his "super tech" wasn't in that day. So it was me, a 91 lb. reluctant doberman, and a one armed vet trying to give her a 'pet'icure. Didn't go well, but it got done! Afterwards, we discussed her various problems. He prescribed short term estrogen for her urinary weirdness and it seemed he kinda blew me off on the thyroid issue.

We came home and I snookered her up for a bath. And a worm crawled out of her butt. EEEWWWW! I stuck in on a stick, put it in an old chip dip bowl and hauled ass back to the Doc's office. He was out getting a car repair and I sat there and watched the worm desiccate, and die. When he finally walked in I held out the "french onion dip" bowl with tears and said, "I tried to save him! But you're too late...DO something Doc!" He is used to me so I didn't get much more of a reaction than a smile and an "it's too late to call for the crash cart Robin, sorry." Then he told my what I had suspected. It was a tapeworm.

That's when I said, "Doc? Doesn't that beg the question then? Why is she OVERweight if she has TAPEWORMS!" He told me we should probably test her thyroid but that he didn't think he and I could get a good blood sample, to come back on Thursday when he had another vet helping and we'd get her done.

Bella was on the money when she told me it was her thyroid. SOOOO low! She's been on her pills (costs $6.00 a month to treat thank God!) for two weeks. She's back to normal and SE is pissed! He liked her fat and lazy and sweet! We both did, but it's just not Bella! It's good to have her back! She's flirting with the frisbee again (meaning, she brings it and swings it out of the way of your reaching hand, her eyes laughing!) She runs after it instead of trots. She's lost weight already. She still runs from garter snakes...runs after pickups hauling trailers and barks like a mean dog when she's in the backyard and coyotes sound close or someone drives up. Did my baby girl hit menopause before me?

I dunno, been having Hot Flashes/night sweats....miserable at times. Yikes! AND, locked my keys in my jeep TWICE in ONE day! (Once at the chiropracter's office...need I say more?) But hey, my baby girl is on estrogen and thyrotabs before me! Granted, she is only 21 (in dog years!)

I tried to get a good picture of her. I have tons when she was a baby...I swear she'd pose! But about two years ago (K was up for a visit, she can vouch for this!) we were grilling outside, in the dark, and SE had one of those magnetic flashlights that you can stick up somewhere? He had it stuck on the metal brace above the grill and we were all drinking beer and visiting and Bella was nosing around the bottom of the grill for any morsels she might have missed and the flashlight came crashing down, hit SE, hit the pavement....and Bella was gone! Tail tucked between her legs...terrified! (some bad ass dobie huh!) To this day when you get one of those out she leaves, quick like. Sadly, for some reason, she does the same with the camera. It's weird, she'll roam with me on the property while I take pictures but if I turn it on her, she bolts.....here, she's headed in and hiding. She won't Even LOOK at me if I have the darn thing.

Is she a victim of camera abuse? She was laying out by my sweet potato vines chewing on her frisbee, looked up and saw me with the camera pointed at her and headed for shelter! Poor thing! She looks whipped there! But I swear to you, we don't beat her! She just hates the camera now! Wonder if she's from that tribe that thinks it steals your soul? Seriously, in this photo I was begging her, "C'mon Bella, bella! It's not gonna hurt you, look at Mama!" Her answer,"Not for all the frisbee's on the planet!"

Have a great weekend!

General Malaise

Thought to self If the cowboy's win...it will be a perfect weekend! UT won in the most amazing game I've seen in a long time...over OU!!! K. State beat A&M wich I dig! And Texas Tech pulled one out of their butt in OT.

Alas, it's a soggy, muddy mess here in the Panhandle, which is not normal! We've gotten, here at the house (unofficial) 2.10' of rain. That's great...for everyone BUT us! We never turn down moisture...but when you're trying to chop corn? Not so good! If the rain would have held out for 3-4 more days...I'd a been doing the happy dance....naked!

Cowboys sucked. I knew it was going to be a bad day when Romo walked onto the field during first possession, instead of jogging and yelling instructions at his offense.

I have an uncanny knack for picking winning horses when I go to the track, or even watch the derby on TV. At the track....I race between the saddling paddock and the cages like a madwoman. If a horse is "on it's toe's" looking excited to run....nay, determined to run...I'll bet him....no matter the odds...works well for me. Romo walked almost nonchalantly onto the field, didn't looked determined to compete. Not his fault, they all looked lethargic...ergo, my $2.00 bet in the derby wouldn't have been on them.

Just pissy, had a blast watching the UT-OU game...exhausted afterwards! Forgot how much fun and how fast college ball is! I could've napped today watching the NFL~have these guys forgotten how much fun football used to be? Is it just a job now? A job that can get you two 3 carat diamond earrings? One for each ear?

I got SOOOO excited, pissed off, elated, and despairing in the Red River Shootout, my SE shut the ofiice door! I screamed and yelled and wailed and whooped! It was great!

Then a political ad. And I realized. College football, pro football, high school football, italian soccer, hawaiian baseball, junior high volleyball.....is nice. Something to fight for and maintain. But hell and damnation, there's a crisis going on now and it's up to voters (like, me) to do some critical thinking, analyzing....and vote. And then think it's all gonna be okay after that. I love my ostrich/head in the sand impersonation, I do it well, especially since I've been working out, my back doesn't hurt as bad and the rear shot looks a little better!

I'm frightened by the lack of education here in our great country. When you see "There will be NO tax increases on anyone who makes less than $250,000 a year!" and you're a typical working class American...hell, that looks good! Great even!

Is is short sighted? What DO our taxes fund? Social Security? Has anyone looked beyond their own pocketbook and researched where our tax money is actually spent? I for one, pay my taxes. Not a penny more than I owe, but every dime Uncle Sam wants. And I lose my head when I see local people pull up the the grocery store, file out 5 children, cash their paychecks at the window, spend their $300.00 on groceries, using food stamps, after they pocketed joint paychecks of $3850.00 for two weeks wages between them! That's not the clencher. They loaded up their 5 children in their Cadillac Escalade (which I can't afford because I just spent $300 on food stamps!) and drove back to their section 5 housing...which my taxes also pay for. It's a shame to have such a nice ride...costs more than their house (what do they care, they didn't pay for it)...and have no garage for it! Sure, THEY will vote for Obama because they don't want a tax increase? Seems to me they would vote for someone who does want a tax increase, to them it means the equivalent of a salary increase.

I have no answers...lot's of questions though. Lot's. I just find some sort of wierd dichotomy going on between Obama's "mainstreet" approach and McCains "mainstreet" address.

Weird times, scary times no matter which side of the demographic you're on.

But TEXAS WON! Life is good (god this sand smells good)

Yea Longhorns! And other BS!

WOO HOO! Did y'all see Texas kick some Oklahoma Ass?! The Red River Shoot-out...oops, sorry, renamed the "Red River Rivalry"...UT -vs- OU, always a good game but this one was amazing! At first I was a bit pissy because it began at 11:00 a.m., too early for beer and that's just not right. But I ran around this morning like a nutcase, in the rain and the mud (I got fired after getting my SE's new truck muddy...by bringing him what he told me too...I was going to quit anyway for being called out early on a Saturday morning. But alas, I can't quit, retire, get fired or run away...is there a "partner protection program"?!) Anyhoo, I curled up in the recliner, with much tension, turned on the TV to watch my beloved Texans ranked #5 take on the #1 ranked team, The Oklahoma Sooners. Within 2 minutes I was screaming like a fish wife on crack. It lasted the whole 3 hours. My throat hurts and my relaxing Saturday afternoon has left me exhausted! SE hid out in the office, he got rained out and wasn't in a happy, happy, joy, joy mood anyway! He's also not a college ball fan. I had forgotten how much more fun college ball was than the NFL! Crazy shit happened! I was all over the place on a rant or a cheer or an OMG! And wonder of wonder's....they pulled it off! 45-35 the 'Horns won it! Yea! Woo Woo Woo!

Been a busy week, always is this time of year. Lulu is still in traction and her trailer has not been fixed so me and Reba are not on the road yet! Yeah, we bought a "newer" truck...bright, bright red '98 daycab, Peterbilt, her name is Reba for obvious reasons'! I named her that before we even bought her because I saw the pictures. Then I had to call the guys wife to wire some money...yeah, her name was Reba! 'Tis fate I tell ya! Lulu is eyeing her suspiciously with not a little bit of hatred in her headlights. I made Dan park Reba behind the shed and petted Lulu for awhile. She will not get junked, I will not allow it! But it's just a matter of time. On top of that, we bought another truck/trailer! Now, I ask you, how does that happen? Wreck one buy two? Double your fleet? LOL! We bought Bud's truck. He's hauled for us for a number of years, the man does not know the meaning of the word, "retirement", but this year, he'd had enough...and his trailer is a Hitchcock...just like ours (from the same original fleet of them actually! Another story!) So we bought his KW and here is plan #1. We get Lulu's trailer back, hook it up to Reba and put Robin back on the road. This winter SE fixe's Lulu....then, Lulu get's her trailer back...Reba get's the one from Bud's truck...and we sell the KW tractor. So, we then have 3 trucks/trailers and the headache of staffing them with decent drivers! SE say's no problem...you drive one and we'll hire two more S. Africans' and things will be back to normal?

Normal! What about my retirement to concentrate on bookkeeping and my writing? Blank look. Just when I thought we were ahead! So forgive me if I don't post often! I soooo don't mind driving truck in the winter...but during harvest? It's almost too much to do and stay on top of scale tickets', paying hired trucks, billing clients, running for parts, keeping house, feeding the crew....jeez! Anyone looking for a job with a CDL....reply! (Oh yeah, must pass drug test...that kills us everytime, most people with CDL's that can pass a drug test...already HAVE a job!)

Lar the Insurance Guy and myself are working on a hysterical and intersting take on personal injury suits. Not only was I pissy about the coastal relief thing (Yeah, they missed the boat on postal relief didn't they!) Then instead of muting the "personal injury" law ad's I listened to one about how if you're injured in a traffic accident, we will do everything to make sure you get what YOU deserve! What the hell is that? You take the same chances buying a lottery ticket don't ya? Dont' get me wrong....some traffic accidents deserve a good sui'in'. Drunk drivers or something like that. For medical and maybe a LITTLE extra...but this arbitrary litigation is so out of hand that I scream every time I pay my insurance premium. It's high because of these people who sue...not me. Just like medical insurance. If I were a surgeon I would hang up my gloves and scalpel and run like hell. Medical malpractice insurance is through the roof. And we pay for it in our premiums and at the counter. Because of the people who want something for nothing. I've busted so many people when I was a PI for worker's comp fraud...and I see people on SSI, ain't a damn thing wrong with them except laziness.

These programs were good in theory and many deserve them....but the rampant abuse? Gotta stop! I'll have a humorous take on that in the coming days...I hope!

Now, have rambled on...I have to close with this. That damned Hillshire Farms commercial is so stuck in my brain it's driving me nuts! It's SUCH a stupid commercial, yet I giggle almost every time I see it? What's up with that? You know the one? There's an overweight suburban Dad in his backyard by the grill who starts the whole mess and the whole suburban dad neighborhood joins in?

It goes, something, like this:

I said a Beef Hot Link!

(I said a Beef Hot link!)

(all together now) I said a 'Brat, Beef Kielbasa Smoked Sausage

Say Words!'

When I say Hillshire You Say Farms!

Hillshire!

(Farms!)

GO MEAT!

(dedicated to Travis Erwin, meatatarian of the moment!)

I am SICK of it!

Okay, the cowboys won, it was ugly, but we won. I'm over my Hollywood name sucking....but I am not over seeing BUSHCLINTONCOASTALRELIEF.COM.

Number one, their names together is weird.

I live in the TX Panhandle. On a hill (or what could be construed as one in this area...you can't actually see it but you can see lights from several other towns on a clear night, ergo, you're on a hill.) I don't spend the extra money for flood insurance. Don't think I'll need it but if it happens and my home floods...my bad.

I live in "Tornado Alley"...yep, got full coverage on my home, barns, and vehicles. Along with the requisite hail damage. I live here, I KNOW it can happen. Covered.

I also know it CAN snow like a bastard in weird years. I might be cut off from electricity, water, heat and everything else for a while! It happens. Can't ask insurance to cover that. Just good neighbors and good planning. I've got flashlights, batteries, canned goods and blankets. Got a generator on my "to-do" list.

I know where I live. I know it could happen. I know it's not the federal government or the tax payer's fault IF it happens.

If you freaking live next to the OCEAN...you know a hurricane can/will happen. If you live in an area that used to be a SWAMP that the French drained over 250 years ago...and built levies...you can pretty much count on a "natural" disaster. Yes, Hurricane Katrina was devastating and everyone raised hell that the federal government was delayed in responding...but honestly, who knew? And when did the weather become a federal responsibility, or those who chose to stay despite the warnings, and chose to live there knowing the possibilities? They lived below SEA LEVEL! By choice!

If that's not enough, if Katrina wasn't enough of a lesson, the TX coast got hammered....knew wayyy ahead of time (I'm Texan, by the way) and though most of the evacuations weren't mandatory, they were strongly advised. My good buddy Jackie, who was way inland was super prepared! Emptied the freezer, stocked up on water and bread and whatnot. She knew her home was in the path, so she prepared. You can bet your ass she didn't have FEMA on speed dial for her "free shit"! Much too independent, and self supporting.

Okay. Here's the deal. If you want to live by the sea. Do so. Get enough insurance. Or have enough bucks to handle it yourself. You take a risk on the area you live in...prepare for it.

Saw an article on the worst snowstorm in "ages" up in the wilds of Minnesota I think. Electricity, heat, everything knocked out for weeks! Neighbors with snowmobiles checked on neighbor's with canned goods! They all knew it could happen and prepared for it. Not one of them called the federal government and demanded money. Not a dime of government money was sent to those poor, poor frozen people. God love 'em!

It's not the government or the tax payer's responsibility to pay for lack of planning. You chose the good life by the ocean....I myself, will buy my cottage on the outer banks of NC as soon as I'm able. I know the risks though...if it's wiped off the planet by a force of nature...sucks to be me.

If the home we have rehabbed and spent so many hours on is wiped off the face of the earth by a tornado...sucks to be me.

Wouldn't take a dime from the government. I gave that to them for charity. But I'll be damned if I do it again for CLINTONBUSHCOASTALRELIEF.COM

Old adage...ASK NOT WHAT YOUR COUNTRY CAN DO FOR YOU...BUT WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR COUNTRY...

I am sick and tired of people complaining their government doesn't give them enough money. Head's up people! That was never in their job description!

They were to be a governing body...not a charity bank.