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one for the team
*whew* The ginormous hitonious megainspection at the sawmill went amazingly well for an initial survey. The only black mark went to the deparment managed by yours truly and I must say that I took the bullet like a big girl and never missed a beat. That's probably because I've been to hell and back with teams of surveyors in the past that brought in a number of different people with their own anal retentive agendas so this one was a breeze by comparison. Boss cut me loose early today and I got to spend some quality time with BG before she starts a month of music appreciation and british lit next week at the bargain price of 1200 bucks. What a journey of faith that whole thing has been for us as roommates!

Over and out ya'll. Keep the faith ^j^
better late than never
gimme shelter
Even dogs have raging hormones and PMS. I got the call at work today from the keepers of the humane society that they had Faith in custody. It seems that she crossed the freakin' four lane highway looking for a piece of tail love, and the residents of the trailer park up by UPS called the authorities on her. Sorry folks..no reward except for the warm fuzzies that come from reuniting a beautiful brown dog in a very bad mood with her sleeping partner. She's 35 in dog years so I guess she hears her biological clock tickin' or something. I cruised in to bail her out after work and got the short version of Tennessee state law regarding dogs in heat and court dates on the 3rd offense. Plus a 25 buck pick-up fee. One would think that she would be ecstatic to be home among her younger siblings but noooooooooo. Soon as I let her out of the car, she promptly kicked Butterbean's ass and ran her under the car. *sigh* She's grounded.

Sure was hard to go back to the sawmill at 6 this morning. Today was the eve of our first inspection by a new accreditation agency so there was much angst and scouring and scurrying about. I have a feeling it's gonna be a long short week, if you get my drift. How about ya'll pray that nobody kills anybody during the next three days on the job. And that nobody smothers under all of that non-latex PPE.

Redneck Friend's babyboy is getting married this weekend and a few of us kweens have made reservations at Casa Douglas to crash after attending the lakeside nuptials. I have three dresses to my name and haven't worn a one of them in years so this could get interesting if I find some cute shoes I can bear to stand in for a few hours. If not, I'll just go barefoot and carry 'em.

happy samiversary
Last year on Memorial Day I came home to find that a couple of friends had brought me a present for my Mom and Dad. Daddy's dog had recently been killed and this feisty young man had outgrown the big city apartment life so they figured he might do well in the country. I fell in love at first sight with him and Amy handed him over with tears of joy in her eyes because he had found a new home.

He stayed with my parents for exactly two nights, spending most of the time in Daddy's lap in the recliner. Mom called and told me that he was just a little too much for them to handle ( they have NEVER had an inside dog ) so once again Sammy D was up on the hill with the rest of the critters. He is quite the athlete and when he leaps through the air that tail of his looks like it belongs to a deer! He still tries to outrun the Camry to the end of Pecan Lane but usually gives up somewhere around the dairy barn.


We seem to have eased jumped head first into the typical summer weather pattern for Tennessee. High around 90. Daily chance of pop-up thunderstorms. If it rains on YOUR crop, say thank 'ya to the big guy and keep the faith. I had the opportunity to sit up at the kudzu bar the other night and listen to a couple of generations of farmers talk about their present conditions in the field. They chatted about locations and water levels and the price of beans and corns. They are paying the high price for diesel just like truckers and struggle to keep up the pace that supports their families.

I remember Mama telling me about how Daddy would stand defeated at the window of our honest-to-goodness log cabin and watch the rain wash away crop after crop before no-till farming came along. If I had to guess, I'd say the growing shit thing comes from his side of the gene pool. She likes to look at pretty flowers but hates to get dirty because she might need to cook up what he grows. That woman and an iron skillet are a gift from the heavens..I'm just saying.

I've been playing with the water hose like a little kid in my middle aged style swimsuit and no shoes, irrigating what I've planted and transplanted. The (h)erb garden is on the side porch in pots and the flowers are here and there. There's one very beautiful chocolate lab having a period all over the new floors and looking right pitiful, bless her heart. All is well.

Here's something that caught my eye about what Memorial Day is all about. Besides going to the lake and eatin' barbecue, I mean.

afternoon delight
I am, as the old southern saying goes, happy as a pig in mud for no reason other than the fact that I'm enjoying day one of three in a row doing my own thing.. as the spirit moves. That's the finest freedom I can possibly think of. The weather has been nice for a week of work in the hay fields and the corn got a nice mid-afternoon shower today. So did my newly transplanted four o'clocks. Big Ernie is good to smartass country gals who keep the faith.

A recent visitor commented that she had gone back and read what I wrote in 2005, which struck me as kind of odd in a way that made me think that perhaps what I say possibly does make a difference. I had to go back and see too..just for fun. My writing had a bit more of an edge three years ago...and the readers are mostly not around Casa Poops these days as far as I can tell. Just the faithful old friends.

Gotta go burn some daylight now that it's cooled off a bit. Ya'll hang in there. Tomorrow is always another day.

a friday critter
Ain't she just the prettiest girl you ever saw?
a word of warning
I am, like most of you, aware of the dangers of phishing and scamming on the internet and always use caution while on the web. I also routinely check my bank statement online every day or so just to see what's up. Imagine my surprise when I found an unauthorized debit card transaction there today to these thieves . I immediately started researching and it seems that this ring is well known for stealing debit card numbers ( and HOW exactly do they do this??) and charging small amounts assuming that most people won't notice. I also found a site that lists many many complaints against a company called MCA Technology that is the front for all of the mules who do the thefts. According to what I've read, this is a ring that is widespread in scope.

Am I pissed? You bet your smart ass I am. And hell hath no fury like a poor woman when you mess with her hard earned money.

Anybody got the number for the attorney general? Never mind...I'll look it up.
butters busts a move

...and how are ya'll this Terrific Tuesday? On the old 1 to 10 scale, yesterday and today have both been tens in my neck of the woods. With two days off, there's been plenty of time to piddle which is my greatest joy. Piddling is also my worst enemy because I go from one project to another and never seem to finish anything! Hay baleing is going on right now which has been an excellent reason to be out and about with the camera soaking up the ambience that is the farm dressed in spring. Around this time of the year I have to start watching my step so as not to step on Mr. Snake because I would faint and fall out right there he would bite my smart ass. I'm not just a little bit afraid, ya'll. Terrified is more like it.

*piddle piddle*

ohmygod! Somehow I managed to crack the PVC pipe out by the tank and there's water runnin' all over creation. I just hope the overflow makes it down to the corn field in time to save this year's peaches'n'cream crop. Our life here is kinda like Green Acres only I don't look a bit like ZsaZsa and there ain't no pigs anymore...just cows and horses and turkeys. And quail and fast turtles!

*walk the yard*

Peonies are taking their last breath and lamb's ear is peaking. There's honeysuckle every dang where. I've been trying to train it around the barbed wire so it doesn't choke out the transplants from other beloved yards. Daddy went on a mission the other day and pulled a whole bunch of larkspur out of his sunny bed to wilt in the sun. Can't say that I haven't done the same thing when the situation calls for it.

*dO THe cheF thang*

Time to thaw out what's in the freezer and add some finishing touches. BG did angel hair with her own special sauce. I'm having chicken ala Poopie and some peas. Ummmmm...good.


*american idol*


As weekends at the day job go, with several hours of computer downtime, this one was quite nice. I suppose we can attibute that to the fact that fewer people are sick and dying coming to the ER with every little sniffle and snot. We appreciate ya'lls good health more than you will ever know..really. There was drama of course. One of my friends decided she'd had enough of the indecision and could make it on her own with two kids and a roommate, as long as she didn't have to drive a grannymobile. Maybe I can sell her the trusty Camry with three door handles and a very exposed right taillight.

Followed the smoke signals and turned into the kudzu bar where John was busy grillin' bird for the hungry flock that gathers on the patio for a sunny Sunday afternoon. Bev is the proud new owner of a laptop so she can stay in touch with those of us who don't come around very often *snort* She was having a bit of trouble not grabbing for the mouse but I think she'll catch on.

All of this rain has been lovely and stuff but, dang...that grass needs chopping again! I'm counting on the mowers to last one more season and then it's all over for me and them. I'm too old for that shit. The flowers are to die for so far. Long live perennials + a water hose!

I'll be out in the yard for two days playing. Leave a message at the beep.

Ya'll remember the bracelets, right? I wore one for awhile to remind me of the sacrifice made in my name and the character of the man who did it for me. It was one step on my journey to being a faithful one. Remind me to tell you about the other ones and falling down a few. It wasn't pretty, but I managed to keep the old spirit intact to smile and say thank you.

The voices have been silent around here lately because, frankly, I've been very disillusioned with the news as reported by the local rag. The front page is covered with mug shots of people who may or may not be guilty, depending on the due process of law which don't go far when your hometown reputation is already smeared by the MSM. And they definitely ain't main stream, by the way. It's kinda like taking names when you're the hall monitor and have access to official records so you can bully people. Sunshine law, my ass. From now on I'll depend on word of mouth to find out who died and leave the happy shit to the editor and publisher and their personal issues. Heaven forbid that they should miss a hint of a scandal when the rest of us are counting quarters to pay the rent.

I don't know anymore, ya'll, about anything. I know what makes me happy and I tend to stick with that stuff..family, friends and the day job. My dogs and the krazy kat who lives here by default. Kudzu. Flowers and four wheelers. Cute babies. Justice and honesty with eye contact and big hugs. Sunny days. Long naps. Cooking like the Iron Chef. I've never thrown chicken across the room, but don't put it past me if I'm in that mood. Nah..I never waste food. Strike that one.

Back in the sixth grade I was runner-up in the county spelling bee. Vickie Eskridge kicked my everloving ass and I don't even remember what word I went out on...I was just happy to be on the stage competing. As an adult I did the same thing all over again for charity and never won the *grand prize*. Always a bridesmaid, that's the old Poopster.

On my way home from work today something scurried out of the way from the path of the Camry so I stopped to take a look. This baby was not the least bit slow in gettin' to the other side of Pecan Lane before her shell got crushed. I feel honored that she didn't pull her little reptilian head all the way in. What do they eat anyways? Asparagus, perhaps.
friday critter blogging
Sammmy D doing his thang.
true confessions
Old Poops had a reality check of sorts today up at the sawmill..well, a couple of them, actually. Since that's where I spend most of my time it's a given that it's the place where life smacks me right in my smart ass and says "pay attention bitch." I'll spare you the details of love long denied and how gettin' old ain't one bit of fun for anybody.

After work the trusty Camry that is minus one door handle and one lens over a tailight brought me right back to Pecan Lane, where I started Marvelous Monday, to listen to the birds and walk the yard at my leisure. With a beer, of course :) The iris are on their last stems but peonies are just now poppin' open. Asparagus has gone to fern in a matter of a week. Even though the water has dropped way down, the turkeys are still wandering around here and there enjoying the springtime amongst the newly sprouted corn. Just another day in paradise.

I'm thinking that this b**g has become a place for me to come and dump whatever is on my mind onto those who may or may not give a rat's ass about how I feel concerning the price of gas. That is precisely why I'll be absent more often and out with the camera or listening to live music instead of doing self-therapy on a keyboard. My bedtime read last night was a worn paperback collection of Dorothy Parker pieces, sent by my old friend and writing coach who lives in Texas.

Ya'll know where to find me.

one mother's walk

This weekend has been a wild frenzy of cooking and cleaning to get ready for our family dinner today. In attendance were several generations of the family that we once were and still are. I truly appreciate that for the luxury that it is, considering our ages and stages in life. Tales were flying of the history of us and the ancestors...like Miss Rosie their childhood cook who wore a paper sack on her head. Aunt Granny never ate creamed corn again after she found one of Miss Rosie's hairs in that particular dish. Can't say I blame her.

After the dust settled and the wind died down I went out into the yard to walk around a bit and see how things are growing. The garden this year is confined to pots of herbs and grape tomatoes on the side porch but the flowers are magnificent as usual. As I wandered around bathed in the golden rays of a spring evening, my thoughts settled on my mother and what she has taught me. Cooking was one of those things along with loving thy neighbor and going the extra mile when it all seems to be just too much. While most kids had their mamas waiting at home with cookies and milk back in the early sixties, mine went to work to help Daddy support our growing family. She was a newspaper woman for a local paper that dealt with mostly good news and fun stuff like cooking and weddings. If you've ever read the phrase " the bride's mother looked lovely" it was probably written by her. After workin' the day job, she wrangled with three kids and all the homework, snotty noses and broken hearts that go with. Then...and only then....she began the third shift of washing and cleaning and keeping up with a farmer husband who at any given time could be found on a tractor or snowbound in the middle of a herd of cattle. She canned the produce from the garden, staying up until the wee hours of the morning to do so even though she knew the alarm would go off and it would be rinse.lather.repeat.

I heard from other special mothers today...Yaya was one. Another was my old friend in East Tennessee who has a special needs child that names as her pure joy. My recently widowed friend struggled her way through the first of many "firsts" without her best buddy at her side. My heart bleeds for yet another one who is going through a hard time now right smack in the middle of public scrutiny.

Babygirl gave me a Hoops and Yoyo singing card and a CD of songs that remind her of me. I haven't listened to the whole thing yet, but as of track3 she's right on. The greatest gift of all was spending my special day with she and the rest of the fam.

And the dogs.

And the cat.

And the leftovers!
Mom's Overture by Anita Renfroe
A great big ((((hug)))) to my old friend LPT for today's meditation.
dust in the wind
Another one of my all time favorite songs from Kansas which came to mind yesterday afternoon when the plowing commenced around Pecan Lane. Much delayed by rain, it was a welcome and *sneezy* sight. The ground is all turned over and ready for the next round of thunderstorms which will probably begin tonight.

BG is free as a bird from school for about a month and if I was a bettin' gal I'd say most of it will be spent sleeping when not working the night job. There's a month of summer school in June, then another month off before she plunges into the final year of her journey, bless her heart.

We're busy dotting I's and crossing T's at the day job with a big inspection looming towards the end of the month. It will be our maiden voyage with this particular accreditation agency and you never know how those things will go. A lot of it depends on the agenda of the surveyor and what kind of mood they're in...which can be good sometimes, and occasionally a nightmare. Every two years we go through the drill and every two years we learn something new. That is the intent of the survey process....to improve patient care. Unfortunately many folks get all self-important and power trippy when out doing one of these things and beat a dead horse. Been there, done that several times. It ain't pretty.

My youngest brother has come and gone and I miss him already. We managed to squeeze in some quality time on the front porch yesterday to chat about the state of our lives before we headed off to dinner with the rest of the fam in an organized chaos sort of atmosphere down the road a mile. The times, they are a changing, and quickly.

That's about it from Casa Poops. EXCEPT..for my opinion of Jason Castro, also known as "dreadlocks boy." If he doesn't get sent home tonight, I will be more disappointed in this country than when Bush took office. Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but ya'll know what I mean. Give him a karaoke screen to read off of, puleeeez.

Over and out from the smartass country girl on hump day.

a visit to the vet and other stuff
Marvelous Monday, indeed. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, following a beautiful weekend. After work, I took Faith to the vet where she was the *cutest sweetest most-well-behaved* canine in residence, all for a mere 200 bucks plus. One down, two to go. I have a sneaky suspicion that her mixed terrier siblings won't be as well behaved when their turns come, as the money allows. They're a teensy bit more hyper than their big chocolate lab sista.

There was a murder about a mile up the road yesterday at the hindu hotel aka the crack and meth house. Our local rag reports that poor unfortunate dude was traveling for work and ended up in the wrong room with four bullets in him. A case of mistaken identity? Who the heck knows, but it gives me the willies. A little too close for comfort to this country gal. Law enforcement has documented the influx of gang activity into our 'burg over the past few years...'gangstas from the Memphis metro area preying on small town small minds up and down Highway 51. Looks like I'm gonna have to run for some sort of office just to let my voice be heard on the matter.

Been workin' on the Mother's Day menu with my sister/cousin and we've about got it knocked out. She's bringing Ronnie, homemade rolls and cheesecake from Kentucky and pickin' up HER mama. Me and BG will handle the rest like the Iron Chefs that we are. Gotta go looking for pasta sheets for this asparagus recipe she found. I'd make my own but, dang. There just ain't enough hours in the day for a smartass country girl to be Martha's Stewart's understudy. Gotta work and save up to pay the propane guy next winter.

You might have noticed that I haven't mentioned Sugardaddy in awhile. That's because I have been knocked in the head with the startling realization that he doesn't exist! Ya'll could have been nice and told me a few years back but nooooooooo...you just let me go on dreaming of beach vacations and fabulous shopping trips to the dollar store. When the Easter bunny didn't show with a basket, I knew it was all over but the crying. That's okay. I am woman, hear me roar whimper "keep the faith."

And now, I present to you the future of rock music. My co-worker's son and his friends have been trying to rustle up a band for a couple of years and finally they made their debut. Play close attention to dude in the Santa hat playing air guitar. They must really like him to let him get up in there and goof off while they're playing their hearts out.

Give it up for Submerged ^j^
dodging the bullet
Well ya'll...we survived another tornado festival yesterday. Me and BG and all of our critters weathered the storms right here at home and didn't even have to go to the basement! Lucky us. Lucky BG and her girls are gone to Memphis to see Santana and others perform at the Beale Street Music Festival tonight. Me? I'm just enjoying a night alone at Casa Poops. After I paid the propane guy and the landlord, I had enough left over to go to the Dollar General for new granny panties and socks. Then I splurged at the feed store on some herbs and a few flowers plus one sweet potato vine and some good dirt. I b***ged about that feed store one time over at The Dew.

Speaking of The Dew I posted over there today about The Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. My friend the future hit writer and singer Layne Wrye has played in the round there on occasion. Originally from Paris (not France) he and his band played at Bubba's club back in the Midnight Rodeo days and I was astounded at the talent on stage that night. He brought all his rowdy friends with him and the show was fantastic. I do so love me some good music.

The day job is still perking right along with many "opportunities for improvement" and much drama. It's my weekend off, so we'll leave that topic alone for now. Let's just say things are lookin' up. Me and kweens like to meet out on the patio at the kudzu bar on ladies night to sip dollar beer and catch up when we can fit it into our hectic schedules. This past Thursday we settled in at our table and before we knew it, all hell broke loose. You would have had to be there to appreciate the drama, but it will make a good story in my future book. Smartass rednecks, bikers to the rescue and one mighty pissed off Beverly. Somebody's always got to act up and spoil our fun. What they don't know is that redneck friend is just dying to shoot somebody and they could be next.

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