something strange in your neighborhood

It makes sense that we call the current season "Fall".  I totally get it now.  

I was out enjoying a lovely run this morning, before sunrise.  Best time of day, right?  The trees and their ancestors cohorted to take me out.

I was loping along this particular section of sidewalk, a particular section I've walked and jogged many a time before.  But the trees, they had it in for me 

The lovely sidewalk in the friendly daylight

It was early morning, it was dark.  There are streetlights interspersed along the road, but those Ash trees are so good and providing shade...

Then there's the friendly fences that create a nice boundary between the public and private properties.  The trees talked to the fence... or the fence talked to the trees.  I dunno, but whoever's idea it was, I bit it.

I was moving along my merry way down the sidewalk, had entered the under-canopy of those tree friends.  I could make my way just fine in the temporary darkness.  Then,

wham-blam! (or something like that).  I was on the ground.

Realizing I was no longer upright, I sought the reason.  Oh fine, a slat from a section of fence had broken free and landed crosswise in the sidewalk.  A ghost of trees past, it's the only explanation.  My knobby knees and knobby shoulder we're its main victims.

In the end, no real harm done.  Coupla skinned knees, little shoulder abrasion, and a slightly tweaked rib near my right boob/underarm (heaven knows I've not got a lot of padding in that particular region). I got up and finished runnin' the route and took the "poor me" photo of the knee wounds when I got home.  

Have a nice trip, see ya next fall!

Coulda been a lot worse... as in... so glad no one saw me.

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Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:

6. Write about a time you thought there was a ghost.

plasticized

SOURCE

Happy Friday.  Today is Meego's last day of school.  He has final exams in math and English.  Gone are the elementary school days of end-of-year parties.

I was thinking about that this morning because I remembered how the end of the year used to sort of sneak up on me.  *BAM!* it would be here, and I'd be scrambling to get gifts for teachers and get snacks for the parties.  No such things in high school *sigh of relief*








A couple of days ago, Meego asked if he could buy a game online.  He typically purchases computer games from Steam.  I let him use our credit card, then he pays me.  So he asked to buy one and I said okay.

A few minutes later, he says to me from the other room, "I put the information in, now it's asking me for a bunch of other information, so maybe you should come check."

I was lazy busy, so I just asked him, "What other 'bunch of other' information is it asking you for?"

"It's asking for the last 4 digits of your social security number..."

HOLD THE PHONE!

He'd gone to a different site, on the advice of a friend, to try to get a better price.  Needless to say, we stopped that transaction.  Shortly afterwards, Magnum and I both got calls from the fraud alert department at our credit card company.

I spoke with someone I could barely understand, but I'm pretty sure, in the end, it all got straightened out.  Apparently, that particular site is a known danger, so I told Meego he was right to be suspicious and stop the purchase. He said his friend purchased from them, however...

It was a good lesson for him, but our credit card was sacrificed in the process.  I'm awaiting the new ones which should arrive in "fi to sebben beez kneez dis", which I think translates to about a week.  But I could be wrong.

Despite the communication troubles, I do appreciate these fraud alert departments.  We've dealt with them a few times in the past - sometimes to verify legitimate purchases, and a few times to catch some bad guys.   And it so happens that this is the only credit card we use, so in the meantime, I'm credit-card-less.

So as I patiently await the arrival of the new cards - which may or may not be chip-and-pin.  My translation powers had been exhausted by that point - I'm trying to not buy anything while catching up on some projects around the house.

Yesterday, I was in the back yard, where we do nothing to control the dandelions other than mow them down when they get too tall.  Napolion was out there enjoying our bumper crop of dandelions while scoping out the bumper crop of baby bunnies.  I wish bunnies ate dandelions.

Kitty in the... erm... "garden"

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thanks for the nosebleed

Remember last summer?  The summer of the bees?  Boy, I do.

Let me briefly refresh...
Over a span of about a week and a half, I was bee stung three times.

Exhibit A

Exhibit A shows sting result number 1.

Clearly, that kamikaze bee was going for the jugular.

Exhibit B

Exhibit B shows sting result number 2.

Knowing I'm right-handed, that kamikaze bee was obviously seeking to render me helpless.








Last, but certainly not least, was sting result number 3.  Out of blog appropriateness, I have no Exhibit C as that kamikaze bee got me square in the chest, the result of which was the development of an awkward third boob. 

Just take my word for it when I say that sting number three was the MOST disfiguring of them all *ahem*.

So far this summer, I have remained stingless (knock on wood!  Hear me knocking, bees??), but I fear that I'm still being stalked.

Monday, I gave Meego a ride to work.  He got a bloody nose just before leaving and was afraid he'd be late if he rode his bike so I drove him.  As we got into the van, he noticed a wasp buzzing around his window.  We didn't think much of it and just drove off.

Later that afternoon, when I went to pick him up, we once again noticed a wasp buzzing around the passenger window after he got in the van.  Hmmm... how curious...

We pondered what this all meant for a moment, and we saw the wasp fly into the housing behind the passenger side mirror.  I moved the mirror around, but it never emerged.  Okay, whatever.

Then we got home and had a look:

 

Can I get a collective, "EEWWWW!!" ?  

Those little moochers had built a house in the mirror of the van and were multiplying!

I googled like a madwoman to figure out the best remedy.  In the end, we waited until after sundown and sprayed those buggers instantly dead.  We were a bit concerned about the poison messing up the paint and/or the wiring inside the mirror, but neither turned out to be an issue.  

This is what's left of their dead planet:

 Meego got a bit of video.  The actual killing didn't get recorded - something to do with pushing "pause" when meaning to push "record" and vice versa...

ANYWAY, may they rest in peace... and Leave.  Me.  Alone.

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I'm with stupid

I love him but I think he's making me stupid.

I'm speaking of Magnum.       Of course.

Let's review for a moment.  We ordered this thing after he had thrown his Asperger brain around it for a few days.  It arrived in an acceptable amount of time, but "it" was not the "it" that was advertised, plus it arrived in a box that looked like it had been salvaged from the Titanic.

Since then, Magnum has been making me stupid.

I'm referring, naturally, to research that has shown that listening to complainers is bad for your brain.  I read the short article which was, interestingly, followed by complaining comments.

This isn't about people who come seeking help in some area, or who just want to bring attention to something that needs correction.  And I certainly don't mind "being there" for someone going through a rough patch.  But according to the article, "Typically, people who are complaining don't want a solution; they just want you to join in the indignity of the whole thing..."

Yeah, THAT's what I'm talkin' about with the Magnum.

Oh, he's got the solution(s) and has been chipping away.  I'm confident that the whole thing will be rectified eventually with little effort on my part.  BUT, after reading this article, I fear he's making me oh so stupid in between the chippings.

It's really not necessary.  I'm already a party to the indignity, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

And is it true?  Does being around complainers make a person's brain slough off?  I know that I generally avoid the chronically negative.  After a while,  they do seem to make my head hurt.

Perhaps more perplexing, how do we know if we're becoming stupid?  I doubt it's something that just happens overnight.  Intelligence takes effort, so stupidity probably does too.

I'll try not to work too hard.
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what's a girl to do

So we found ourselves at IT'Z last weekend. A good place to kill a few hours of "family entertainment fun". At some point, I decided to use the facilities.

Sorry if this sounds like it's getting to be a bit TMI, but trust me, this is essential to the story. (Gosh, I'm becoming like Jerry)

So anyway, I entered the lovely restroom area and chose a stall. But, AHA! Ever-so-alert me noticed that there was no TP in the particular stall I'd chosen. No, the public bathroom gods would not have the last laugh this time!

I adeptly switched to a well stocked stall, thinking myself so in-the-know. But I learned something at that point. I learned that some of the IT'Z bathroom stalls are furnished with these itty bitty potty training sized toilets plumbed right in with the regular sized versions. Yes, I had chosen such a stall.

Now, I'm not saying that this toilet was a bit smaller, like it was for petite women or something. No no no no. This was a teeny tiny potty-training-sized toilet, giving new meaning to the term "little girls' room".

I contemplated a moment. There were others entering the bathroom. I had already changed stalls once. What were the odds of me finding a stall that was both stocked with supplies AND adult sized? Not very good, I deduced.

So I just sighed and went for it. As I took care of things while resting my teeth on my knees, I couldn't help but notice that my little playhouse bathroom stall was equipped with a handy little "sanitary products" disposal unit, like those of regular bathroom stalls. How ironic. What was THAT doing in there?

Anyway, let this serve as a public service. I can't vouch for the "little boys' room", but ladies, just be aware.
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wondering

I took the big butt van in for an oil change today. Was to be $4. $4 because I had a coupon for a "free" oil change, but because the big butt van takes heavier oil than what was offered for free, it was to be a $4 oil change.

I left about $500+ lighter. *SIGH*

This service place I take our vehicles. It's conveniently located, the service people are nice, waiting area's clean, blah, blah, blah... but every time I take it there, it seems, for some routine oil change, they find something else needs fixing.

Today it was the front brake pads and the rear differential fluid. They wanted to do ball joints too, but my joints were all balled out at that point, so I passed on that.

Every time they call me and are all, "Abby, the technician found a few things while doing your oil change...", then I'm all "oh crap, here we go again". Thing is, I don't know if the claims are legitimate and it's better to fix them now rather than have it worse later, or are they just PLAYIN' me?!

And I don't even prefer driving or vehicle ownership. I coulda bought a(nother) bike with that money.
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James Blonde

Warning: The following video involves intense sequences of violent action and may not be suitable for children under 13 although some children under 13 were responsible for its production.

It's a 3-day weekend here. Kids are all out of school because the teachers need a break I suppose. The festivities kicked off yesterday afternoon with some friendly neighborhood film production. I told the producers I'd put it on the blog, and now you can feel sorry for me knowing what my home life is like...

It is rather violent, but just know that the guy who "wins" is supposedly the good guy. Presumably a James Bond type. Note the smoke screen from his tech vehicle in the opening few seconds- and yes, that's MY lawn he ditches the lit smoke bomb onto. Why Wolfgang is in the role of the totally inept and ineffective bad guy and the blonde kid from across the street is the good guy, I don't know, but then again, Hollywood James Bond is now the *horrors!* blonde what's-his-face.

It's not exactly Son of Rambow, which I do highly recommend by the way. But this blog isn't exactly... well... much either.

Note: No actual children were harmed during the filming of this video, but it remains to be seen if that holds true for the entire weekend.
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