Something else I meant to talk about earlier but instead busied myself so I wouldn’t feel so...
Something else I meant to talk about earlier but instead busied myself so I wouldn’t feel so glum/aggravated/minimalized.
I make references from time to time about the attitude of farming men toward women who engage in the same activity. Today I went to the Fireman’s whateverthehellitwascalled festival thing. A (sort of) friend asked me if I wanted to go with her and her mother and although they are 60 and 80 respectively, they were nice company and made me feel welcome.
We sat through a brief parade where people threw, and even handed, us candy. Then we walked downtown for the fireman’s pork chop lunch. We sat at a communal table with some farming types. The guy sitting next to me started talking to the guy across the table about another guy to whom he was selling hay. Surprisingly, the hay buying guy raises dairy goats. A lot of dairy goats. It was an open conversation so I commented on a couple of things and was ignored. Completely and soundly ignored. Because I’m a chick so how could I possibly know anything? No, I didn’t read anything into it. I know this because number one, I don’t read things into anything and number two, a woman asking questions was answered but anything I said was completely ignored as though I was invisible.
So I shut up and looked at my food and didn’t say, “Fuck you,” to anyone and finally the guy sitting next to me left to meet with the dairy goat guy to talk about hay and my (sort of) friend came over and sat by me and we talked about baked goods and the fireworks to be blown up later in the evening which I skipped because I didn’t feel like driving back into town and feeling out of place.
Now I know I’m tired due to only sleeping about 5 hours early this morning and I know I’m a bit weepy which is a combination of things but not dramatic, and I may not raise 100 head of cattle or goats, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything and it doesn’t excuse the blatant and continued disregard and disrespect that most of these farmer types have for women like me.
I can go into the vet’s office and be respected by not only the clerical staff but also the vets who have infinitely more knowledge than I do in most areas. The vets ask my opinion about goats, the vet tech who also raises goats goes out of her way to talk to me and compare notes. Today I told them of a new vaccine and they took notes. My hay guy treats me with respect and gives me what I ask for without any argument or condescension. So why do so many others assume I’m just playing at this or am without worth because I don’t have a dick? I don’t get it. Yes, I do get it….but it’s wrong and it’s a morale crusher and I wish they’d stop before I say something that puts me at the top of the local gossip list.
When Himself isn’t home, I like to take walks at night. I don’t know why that is, but...
When Himself isn’t home, I like to take walks at night. I don’t know why that is, but there’s something soothing about nighttime and sleeping animals especially after an unsatisfactory day or, in this case, phone call. The bad thing about his absence this time is the stampede scare has made me leery of the cattle again like I was after the bastard bull came after me so I’m not about to go walking amongst them by myself after dark even with Bob locked into a different pasture.
I hate that I’m nervous. I hate that I don’t trust my little bull even though he’s always been docile and standoffish. I hate that I can’t go walk in the dark with my cows and goats and be happy and feel like me and not care about phone calls or social phobias or being depressed and, most of all, I hate that it’ll take weeks or even months of not being stampeded for me to get over it and feel safe with them again.
I was just unexpectedly made listowner of one of my lists. Going through the admin stuff,...
I was just unexpectedly made listowner of one of my lists. Going through the admin stuff, there’s an option to restrict words from being posted. I have an almost uncontrollable desire to put butt monkey in the box. I should just to see if anyone notices.
I went to the garage sale Friday night after party which was actually just a small cookout with a...
I went to the garage sale Friday night after party which was actually just a small cookout with a handful of people which suited me fine but Dinga acted kinda strange. She’s still off from Lirra leaving and ringworm and appears to be having trouble with her overworked hip again plus her daddy didn’t come home. Poor thing.
After a couple of drinks last night, I agreed to go to the Orangeville Fireman’s whatever the hell they call it today. There’s a parade and pork chop lunch and some other stuff I don’t remember but I have other stuff I should be doing like going to the bank and mowing the grass and gee, maybe I should take a shower and bathe the dog in the stinky get-rid-of-ringworm stuff that I should have bathed her in yesterday. Plus my stomach is unhappy with me. And I don’t have a particular fondness for parades.
I just looked out the windows and I have goats out again so that’s nice.
Living alone is weird. It occurred to me that I haven’t lived alone for 27 years. Now I feel old. And tired. But that’s because I didn’t go to bed until 2.30 and I woke up at 7.
When Cary has company on the weekend, she doesn’t answer her texts. I hate that. Oh, shit, I need to drop her new rolly metal shelf thingie off today.
Tiny corns are coming up next door. They’re cute.
Cary's chicken ran off with a fallen nestling.
Cary's chicken ran off with a fallen nestling.
She says good morning but I'm not so sure
She says good morning but I'm not so sure
When I’m 80 I won’t remember my name or to put pants on.
When I’m 80 I won’t remember my name or to put pants on.
Do I do my part for the cause and go work at the garage sale or do I avoid the bitchy drunken woman...
Do I do my part for the cause and go work at the garage sale or do I avoid the bitchy drunken woman who works it all weekend and go visit people instead?
I bought a flat of dark chocolate brownies, some weird little layered bars and some even weirder...
I bought a flat of dark chocolate brownies, some weird little layered bars and some even weirder peanut butter bar type things with chocolate on top. He’s leaving at 6.15 in the morning for points south for 5 days. Who wants to come over to get diabetes with me? All I need is Rum Chata and a new blu-ray and I’m ready to go.
I’m mostly a Hans Werner Sahm ilk kind of girl. Although I have a lovely Krishna/Radha print...
I’m mostly a Hans Werner Sahm ilk kind of girl. Although I have a lovely Krishna/Radha print hanging over my bed. I have no idea who the artist was.
halfbakedidea: I miss Pepperoni. And the humans he hangs out...
I miss Pepperoni. And the humans he hangs out with. And the goats.
What a sweet baby. A 250 lb baby but still.
Unlike Cary, I'm not a big fan of Chagall-esque works so...
Unlike Cary, I'm not a big fan of Chagall-esque works so this is what she got me. Although I did crop out the little monkey that sits on the dresser below it.
Today is day one of the annual ABATE garage sale. Cary and I will be going whenever she gets here so...
Today is day one of the annual ABATE garage sale. Cary and I will be going whenever she gets here so she can pick through biker cast offs to see if she wants any of them.
I’ve gone through my entire house over the past week dragging out stuff I “might” use or want again but haven’t used or wanted in a couple of years so it went into the sale. I even started down to the basement but the mildew chased me back.
I worked at the thing last year, but the woman who always works it can be a total psycho bitch and you never really know what’s going to set her off so I’m thinking I’ll pass this year, although I may work up the nerve to go to the Friday night after party. I slipped out quietly as it was beginning last year because I felt awkward. This year someone is meeting me when she gets off of work so I’ll be going. Being awkward is complicated.
I was reminded yet again yesterday that most of the people we hang out with are not like me. Hell, Himself isn’t like me. Garage sales are an interesting way to learn about the people whose things you’re picking through. When I took my stuff the other night, there were six romance novels, clothes and some kitschy plaques and do dads. I took two bags of books and eight prints including a Bierstadt and a Picasso that were my father’s and had never been framed or hung as well as some cruise clothes of Cary’s, some of which still had price tags. When I went to help set up last night, the bitchy lady had the prints stuffed together, still rolled and marked for a quarter. That’s a quarter for a Bierstadt or Picasso print, which while they obviously aren’t originals and museum worthy…you get my meaning. It’s just weird. I’m glad I didn’t take the spare set of china. I find this particularly interesting since that woman raised holy hell last year about some stuff someone else brought that was junk and therefore unworthy of being in a garage sale. Oh, and I snatched the Picasso and Bierstadt back for Cary.
I still have two prints that I’m waffling about. They aren’t overly expensive - I think I paid $30 a piece and another $40 for framing. I like them (mostly) but they’re the kind of art that a lot of people don’t like. I like surrealism and these are both brightly colored so they don’t match a lot of decor. I’m offering them to Cary before I make a decision but if they don’t suit her, I’m thinking I’ll hang them in the spare bedroom because to see them go for a quarter may make me cry.
I know what of mine is junk and I wouldn’t call it anything else, but I also know what isn’t and it’s just weird to me that someone else wouldn’t recognize it. Different backgrounds, different priorities, different.
He officially can’t operate it. He has fat fingers, bad eyes and no patience. It’s going...
He officially can’t operate it. He has fat fingers, bad eyes and no patience. It’s going back tomorrow.
This has been your technologically challenged individual gets a smart phone update.
Oh god Himself got a smart phone. This can’t end well.
Oh god Himself got a smart phone. This can’t end well.
I’ll have you know I’m not easily irritated unless, you know, you’re an idiot. Or...
I’ll have you know I’m not easily irritated unless, you know, you’re an idiot. Or rude. Or bossy. Or a general asshole. Or it’s before 10. Or I haven’t had my tea. Or meds. Or brownies. See? I’m a cheerful fucker.
Oh! Oh! Some guys installed a generator a week or two ago and the control panel wouldn’t...
Oh! Oh! Some guys installed a generator a week or two ago and the control panel wouldn’t program so they called us. I ordered a controller, and printed out the diagnostic checklist required to warranty the part. They changed the controller and mailed it back without the checklist. Three phone calls later, I discover that no one ran the tests so the part will not be warrantied until they do. Now I have to send them the bad part so they can replace it, run the tests and reinstall the new part. WTF?
The stupidity of people never ceases to amaze me. Helper guy yesterday: I said mulch around the wire...
The stupidity of people never ceases to amaze me. Helper guy yesterday: I said mulch around the wire markers in two of the gardens leaving an open circle around the marker so the plant can come up. Instead he mulched the markers and left the rest, where plants won’t be, bare.
Example two: The male half of the people I gave Lirra to, needs work so I suggested he could do farm work here. it will benefit my dog. Now that he has a ride, I have to hire both him and his brother who is his ride. So I texted last week that I could use him if he was available. Yesterday the girl started calling. She called two or three times and texted once. I texted back yesterday afternoon that if it didn’t rain, they should be here at 9 and gave my address. She called an hour ago and again 20 minutes ago so I called and got voicemail and then texted and said they can still work but only for 4 hours because I have plans. She asked when and asked for my address which I’d already given her. It’s stupid. If I didn’t need young grunts, I’d blow them off, but again, it benefits my dog.
GPO Dinga being bored. Wanna play?
GPO Dinga being bored. Wanna play?
My sister is a corpse robbing thug with freckles. Naturally.
My sister is a corpse robbing thug with freckles. Naturally.
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