Pink Shirt- a copy cat post

After reading on someone else blog about her pink shirt, I longed for my own. The one that has carried me through bad days, big belly (baby belly not fatty mc fat fat belly- hey, not my phrase blame Friends and my nephew who spews that phrase all the time) and no laundry washed.
Ugg, anyway... dug for said shirt, and found said shirt at the bottom of my beautiful, unfinished, yet, still abused with unhung clothes ,walk in closet. Oh how I love that shirt and all other shirts that I have bought as spares that do not live up to their reputation as "the pink shirt".

This shirt is so versatile that I have worn it as a cover up to the pool, as a top to my fav blue jean skirt to work and church, on dates, and on cas days. As a disclaimer, I am not a fashionista (spellng???) , so I probably have mis worn said shirt many of time on many of occasions.

I have started to notice signs of dying. Smells that I think might still be there after a wash, mysterious "greasy" spots, stretching, shrinking, "see-through-ness" It breaks my heart. What if I can't find another PINK shirt? The right one doesn't just come along every day at the Dollar Store? 'Cause believe me I have looked, I keep an eye peeled for a sister for my pink shirt.

And so as Spring springs, I will be out there pounding the pavement looking, looking for the Perfect Pink Shirt.
However, I will not retire the original PPS until she decides she can't take the wear and tear of a life called Scarbrough.

Almost Rolled out of bed last night.

Resigned to our bedroom, I prepared to feed Kelsey and read Emma for the evening. I thought I had lost my "battle" with DH and BIL for the TV. I didn't feel up to watching Spicer Griper or Spicier Grip as some would jokingly call it for the seeming 100th time.

You see I am a roping widow. This widow was going to enjoy Jane A. all to herself. That is before, one by one, my little family ambled into the room. First K want to kiss the baby while she ate. Then III doing the same, but adding tattling to his agenda. Then, DH...

He toted the awkward old fashioned round table I have lugged from move to move since college years. (he had borrowed it from our room, not to return it until need forced him to do so) Then he lugged our bedroom TV back.

After resigning himself to a lost remote, he settled down to twitch in his sleep while visions of cows and horses danced in his head.

Realizing the time, I bullied III who was also glued to the roping (a true 4th generation roper, akkk) to bed with his unwilling sister.

So mama in her kerchief (not not really I just wanted to finish the analogy), watch tv blissfully alone after hubby, baby, and children were sound asleep.

Bliss to be alone in a quiet house of sleeping family.

However, in bed that night I was given 2 inches of room to sleep. Big daddy was spread eagle out on the bed, blissfully unaware of the sitatuion

I mentioned it in the morning and got "Welcome, to my world".

I don't do that and I don't snore either!

The Day that Scott was wrong

U-MAZ-ING



He even told me to blog about it. And so I am- was going to even if I didn't ahve his permission.



Today, March 7, 2009 at 10:00 am.



Westley Scott Scarbrough JR.



WAS...



wrong about something. Ha



and hell didn't even freeze over.



But it blew like hell.... maybe that is a sign?

Wanna Move??!!

Just live in SJ!

Ya those of us who have to endure it have not found it to be so fun, fun, fun til your daddy takes the T-bird away, but whatcha gonna do?

Keep thinking about the positive. While your top soil is blowing away, you are getting someone elses. I think I have good top soil because of my grandpa's fields across the road. Blow sand is good topsoil; look for it along your fence lines!

Days like these reminded me of a mostly forgotten movie that had to do with The Depression, blowing wind, a mom who went crazy and killed her family.

I have no idea what the movie is. I just remember one scene where the mom snaps from the sound of the wind and the dust bowl blowing through the cracks in her doors and windows. I vaguely rememeber seeing the dead baby in the crib and the family stabbed to death. Could I turn into that woman? The wind is getting to me, I know. See, this is why little kids shouldn't be watching scary stuff..

Ok, ok it is just me.

I still shoudn't be watching scary stuff.

Scott thinks I am an idiot. I can't even watch the previews for the new haunted house where the family moves in and there are ghosts watching them.

But I digress as usual. Here's the point...

I am so glad I don't live at the top of a hill today. ;)

Shakespeare's Puns

Should literature be explained with all the meaning and crude humor? I feel odd about doing so, until I have a student tell me about the latest rated "R" movie he/she has seen.

I wonder,would Shakespeare have written South Park?

It is all over but the rat killing

Catchy title wouldn't you say?

I think sometimes my titles are funnier than the posts. But today I am just grateful that I have a big, strong, mouse hunter.

Since we can't have cats, 'cause the dogs get them, and the dogs are too busy chasing the cows to worry about it, and I have slowly, with neck-scratching tippy-toe jumpin' fear, gotten ride of every snake that I see...

I have my own built in mouse trap.

Living in the semi-country that we do, and owning acrage comes with one or two disadvantages. One of them being field mice. Ugg, just thinking about them makes my skin crawl!

But, luckily for me, I have my brave mouse killer. What would I do without him?

Winter, Be Flung

Souldn't say a word, But going to do it anyway.

I think I am having a rought day or two or three. All I can do is complain and be frustrated.

I am tired of cleaning
I am tired of cold
I am tired of tired
and feeling so old



I am tired of so many "nos"
I am tired of me
I am tired of work
and ugly bare trees

Spring has not sprung
Winter, be flung
My white legs need a tan
I need a plan



Hawaii?.... Cabo?.... St. Thomas.... maybe