February 11, 2013

• Dancing with Bean Pots

  I am going to attempt to sneak a few words to you this morning, despite the onslaught of chihuahua bodies hanging off me.  They know something is up now that the walls are empty and the house echoes.  They are giving me that pathetic look,  RUN FOR YOUR CANINE LIVES, SHE’S MURDERING POUND PUPPIES BY STUFFING THEM INTO BOXES!  Everyday, she murders the pound puppies in a new way.   Neurotic canine. Nothing entertains me more.

  With the exception of a few metal barn stars, the sheets on our bed and a few kitchen items we are still using, the house is packed.  We ROCKED the packing. Well okay, Dona and Macy packed circles around me.  They might have even been throwing in cartwheels just because they could, but my puny self kicked butt, too.  My body is paying the price, but the muscle pain is almost like a medal of honor. I am wearing it proudly.  Maybe even flaunt it a bit.

  Look at me,
  I pick up the bean pot.
  I dust the bean pot.
  I dance with the bean pot.
  I sing to the bean pot.
  I wrap the bean pot.
  I pack the bean pot.
  I stack the box full of bean pots.
  
  *faints to the floor*

  Seriously, it feels so good to have some sort of strength again. 

  Meteorology Man has been doing the heavy work for me. 
  I point and grunt.
  He says yes ma’am.

  I say move it now, Hunky Boy!
  He says I was created for your service, oh soft-spoken one.

  I say where’s my oatmeal raisin cookie, punish severely the one who took my oatmeal raisin cookie!
  He says you finished off your cookie yesterday, my sweet dainty one.

  We work well together.
  He lifts heavy things.
  I stretch his tolerance level.
  There’s not a judge in the state that would convict him.

  I told you, Meteorology Man wanted to hold a yard sale last weekend, despite the fact that I just wanted to set it out by the road and bless the peoples.  He held another one this weekend.  He sucked a total of over $1500 out of our neighbors.  Heathen tax collector.  He also soaked up a nice tan.  Anyway, that more than covers the three kennel runs. Well done, Hunky.

  I made signs for all of the items that will be staying with the house.  I have learned from previous experience, it is not enough to have a list and/or to tell the movers what not to put on the moving truck.  They end up on the moving truck anyway. 

  
  MOVE

  I should be sure to put one on Meteorology Man.
  Though I am sure, he would rather spend the next three weeks locked in a storage facility, than stuck in a hotel room with his sweet dainty one.

  

  • 8:55 am
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