The War Begins...

     It is time for my annual war with nature.  My veggie garden is planted and ready to go to hell in a hand basket, (Always the optimist, I am.).  Every year for the past six years, we've lost out veggies and fruits.  I don't know why I even try any more, and yet every year a few hundred dollars go into prepping, plants, and plots, (See what I did there?  Alliteration, yay.), only to see that the bugs and wildlife eat well.

     This is a stink bug.  They are evil.  They have eaten my tomatoes for the past two years.  Apparently I grow tomatoes for stink bugs and raccoons.

     This is the damage a leaf miner brings.  They also are evil.  Last year they ate the leaves off of my tomatoes.  This year they are trying to eat the leaves off of my little satsuma tree.

     This is a raccoon.  They are of course evil, cute, but evil.  For the past six years they have eaten my tomatoes, watermelons, satsumas and grapes.  They have not eaten the broccoli, jalapeno peppers, and okra.  They do like to pick the sweet pepper and throw it at the house (seriously).  I figure they do that just because they know we are at war.

     We've put up a fence between us and the swamp/woods and moved the garden to the front of the property.  We thought it would help with the stink bugs and the raccoons.  Yesterday there was a stink bug just over my mirliton plant on our newly raised fence and a raccoon on the patio eating cat food and giving me the middle finger.  I losing and the war hasn't even started.  Anyone else have a garden yet?

Did I mention?

Did I mention that my son is getting married in September?  I have to get a dress and apparently it has to be a short one.  The mother of the bride and the bride's maids all are wearing knee length dresses.  This sort of bums me out because I would LOVE to wear a long dress.  I would love to wear this four thousand dollar navy blue dress, (let's all laugh at that one).

In case you didn't know I'm 4 feet 9 and 1/4 inches tall, (the exact same height as my very Cajun grandmother thank you very much).  There is no such thing as running out and buying a dress when you are my size, which is roughly blueberry because I'm about as tall and round as one, (I gain weight in my stomach and lose it in my boobs.)  So I try things on whenever I'm in a store on the off chance that inspector number 8 missed the fact that cutter number 12 went too short on a pattern on any given day.  And yeah that does happen.

The other day I was in Goodwill and on a whim went through the formal dresses rack.  Holy cow I found a royal blue long dress that if I lost 20 pounds would look fantastic on me.  Now for the even more amazing part, the thing fit from my neck to my waist, (usually there is this big lump of material because everything is six inches longer), and now for the miracle...  I cost me five dollars!!  FIVE FREAKING DOLLARS!!

I'm going to have to cut it short, but I'm going to make that adorable little jacket you see on the dress above, (my bingo wings need some sort of sleeve), and I'm going to bead the heck out of it.  Now I've really gotta work on the weight loss, but guess what?  I've got that covered too.  I've signed up for a zombie run run in June, (I'll be the zombie of course.)

So between my Wizarding World of Harry Potter visits, (Did I mention I got season tickets as the most AWESOME Christmas gift ever?  No?  Well I'll have to do another post on that because we've already been three times this year!), and my zombie run I should lose some weight right?

OH MY GOD!!!!!!

     It's 2AM ish and I've had one of those freak you out icky dreams where you wake up angry at your totally innocent spouse, but you want to kill him/her anyways.  Don't turn off the TV on me and head up to the room where you live with your old flame, in a house full of rock and roll, goths doing laundry and expect me not to tear up those, learn how to be a paralegal, binders Mister.  Grrr.

     I'm on the phone today with Sis#3, (my SIL), and we're talking garage sales and complaining about the usual when all of a sudden she says, "Oh my God!"  I'm all like, "What?"  #3 repeats a bit louder, "Oh My God!!"  To shorten this a bit let's just say I continued asking, "What?" for each, "OH MY GOD!!!"  About three, "OH MY GODs," into this, she begins hysterically screaming in obvious fear and I've got a really bad feeling something is horribly wrong.  Suddenly it sounds like she turned up the car radio so loud that I can no longer hear her screams and then it goes quiet.  I'm like, "WTH?  Are you okay?"  #3 answered, "Yes.  We were almost hit by a train."

     #3 and her hubby were pulling a trailer filled with her new exercise equipment, and had to cross a railroad track.  The stop light had gone yellow and the car in front of them stopped which had them leaving their trailer on the track.  All of a sudden they hear ding, ding, ding, and the bar that blocks off the traffic slams down on the exercise equipment.  They can't move forward because there is a car in front of them and the bar is pinning the trailer in place.  So #3's hubby does a pull over to the side which rips the metal railroad bar off of the pole.  They just missed the train.

     The light goes green and they head off with the traffic, all the while I'm asking questions.  When I realize what's happened I tell them they need to pull over and call the railroad, the police, or the railroad police.  It's at this point where they get pulled over and I tell #3 call me back and let me know what happened.

     The first cop was a jerk and was going on about them doing a hit and run.  Maybe it's me, but common decency dictates that you should ask if anyone was hurt and realize that ain't nobody thinking nothing after almost getting hit by a train, but "Crap, we're ALIVE!"  Of course #3's hubby is repeating, "OhmyGodI'mgoingtojailandIwasalmostkilled."  When #3 starts to tell the cop it was more like they were hit, hubby tells her to hush because this cop is so angry.  When the third cop showed up, the professional one, he said he was glad that no one was hurt and listened to their version of what happened.  God bless all good cops who have cool heads and the ability to listen before making judgments.  No ticket was written.  No one went to jail.  It did not, however, end well.  The exercise equipment was damaged and they were informed that they were going to have to pay to replace the railroad bar thingie.

     So I tell Sis #2, (my little sister), and mom what happened and #2 starts laughing and said, "Oh my God, I called #3 today and she sounded so tired and depressed and irritated, so I asked her if everything was okay and she said, 'you have no idea...'  Sis #2 and I always find the total understated manner of #3 hysterical.  Me, I'm a drama queen and would have repeated the story in full detail along with the imho mandatory description of how I had to clean my underwear afterward.  Sis #3?  Well not so much.

Sorry it's now 3:30AM ish and I'm just not into proofreading.  My anger has ebbed and dear J is soundly sleeping unaware that I wanted to skin him alive an hour ago.  Night night.