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In about 4 hours I will be heading to the new bee home to scout the next hive locations with my beloved. I am looking forward to proactive physical activity in closing out this chapter of "The Little Mall on the Prairie" show.
I think I am going to award a promotion here in this final (I hope) wait segment of this chapter. In my metaphorical meanderings, the FIL's current favorite employee is being promoted to "The Wicked Stepmother." I think her "official" job title might be, "Head CNA." I think. If I were to ask, I am confident the FIL would drone firmly, "That is really not any of your business, is it?" What to call the people who stand between the people who are crying for great-grandmother and the grieving process feels like my business, but I am not willing to wrestle an aggressive oil executive over it. In visible practice, she has taken over great-grandmother's job, all the way from driving great-grandmother's cherished Cadillac to shopping for and decorating for holidays and parties. I have not opened myself to full disclosure, but I am pretty convinced she was fully prepped take great-grandmother's place in what hubs and I call, "The Parental Gang Bang" throughout the current business transaction. "The Parental Gang Bang" is the mechanism by which my husband's parents made sure The Family was properly costumed, rehearsed and positioned to play their role in the business presentations.
I chose igNORance. I didn't give the spandex loving waddler an opening to confirm or deny my theory, but her mere physical presence at the FIL's side during this business transaction triggered viscous flashbacks to the rounds of "The Parental Gang Bang" I have endured. Those are some seriously intense memories!!! I am nearly ready to rank the intensity alongside my father's child pornography presentations.
I am allowing myself creative license in calling this, "The Little Mall on the Prairie" show, but this is reality in motion. Reality checks welcome.
The sun has risen over the Brazos Valley. Time to pack up the essentials for the ground breaking at the new bee yard. Thanks for letting me sort toward a cohesive closure on this experiment.
I think I am going to award a promotion here in this final (I hope) wait segment of this chapter. In my metaphorical meanderings, the FIL's current favorite employee is being promoted to "The Wicked Stepmother." I think her "official" job title might be, "Head CNA." I think. If I were to ask, I am confident the FIL would drone firmly, "That is really not any of your business, is it?" What to call the people who stand between the people who are crying for great-grandmother and the grieving process feels like my business, but I am not willing to wrestle an aggressive oil executive over it. In visible practice, she has taken over great-grandmother's job, all the way from driving great-grandmother's cherished Cadillac to shopping for and decorating for holidays and parties. I have not opened myself to full disclosure, but I am pretty convinced she was fully prepped take great-grandmother's place in what hubs and I call, "The Parental Gang Bang" throughout the current business transaction. "The Parental Gang Bang" is the mechanism by which my husband's parents made sure The Family was properly costumed, rehearsed and positioned to play their role in the business presentations.
I chose igNORance. I didn't give the spandex loving waddler an opening to confirm or deny my theory, but her mere physical presence at the FIL's side during this business transaction triggered viscous flashbacks to the rounds of "The Parental Gang Bang" I have endured. Those are some seriously intense memories!!! I am nearly ready to rank the intensity alongside my father's child pornography presentations.
I am allowing myself creative license in calling this, "The Little Mall on the Prairie" show, but this is reality in motion. Reality checks welcome.
The sun has risen over the Brazos Valley. Time to pack up the essentials for the ground breaking at the new bee yard. Thanks for letting me sort toward a cohesive closure on this experiment.
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Hey all, i know its been quite awhile since i posted on here. Its been a summer all right. Its been something else........... You know how they say not to open the can of worms? Well a few months ago i decided to find out what my due date would have been for my first baby, the one conceived by r***. My baby would have been due on March 4th of 2006. They would be 20 years old. I was R**** on June...
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My day...today...misplaced my debit card...didn't realize it until I got to the register after shopping to a full cart. Used a different debit card and pulled apart everything looking for missing debit card before I left parking lot. Got home, dropped keys. So now I have a missing debit card, missing keys. A full cartload to unload and put away. I got everything put away.Dumped purse for a...
I'll keep my slingshot handy, just in case...
As for yonder spandex-wearing waddling usurper (did I get that correct?)....sounds like a bad Movie of the Week waiting ot happen. Supportive hugs and prayers.
The hippie truck (the little hatchback that used to be "The Squirt Mobile") is packed, the bees are tended, more evidence of our organic presence has been consolidated and/or removed and I still have 30 minutes to spare. Think I'll invest that 30 minutes on the road.
Off to the ground-breaking lunch. Powering down the system now in case Daddy Gas Bucks and some of his low-tech cronies show up for more important stuff.
Oh well. If I could challenge bioremediation in post Katrina New Orleans, I challenge an abandoned Johnson grass field. For sure I already have experience with keeping it out of the hives.
Still haven't met the other humans involved, but in Babe I trust.