Archive | September 2011

Woodworking with the Preacher’s Daughters

Last Sunday my sister and I had to go get her desk from her co-worker’s house and move it to our house so that she could start working from home on Monday.  That sounds simple enough doesn’t it?  Not hardly.

The desk that we had to move was one that the Preacher built for her several years ago.  Yes, the Preacher is a carpenter just like Jesus.  I have my doubts about whether or not he is as good a carpenter as Jesus was though.  Maybe it’s just things that he makes for his family.  He does a really good job when making things for other people.

This desk that he made for Fallen Angel is eight feet long and L-shaped.  It was a nice desk and it served its purpose well.  When he built it my sister was living in my parent’s basement.  The basement is about 1,000 square feet and fully finished.  The desk was in the basement living room which is huge and had no walls to really get in the way.  The same is not true for out small house that we are renting.

To get to Fallen Angel’s home office you have to go through a tiny hallway and around two corners.  I’m not very good at geometry or any kind of mathematical computations, but even I knew that there was little to no chance in hell of getting that desk into that room in one piece.

Once we got the desk off of the back of the truck and Continue reading

Preacher’s Daughter made a funny today

Fallen Angel (my sister):  I was talking to mom today and she’s trying to talk us into moving to their town.  I don’t want to live there.  It’s a retirement community.  How am I going to find a man there?

Me:  But that would be like hitting the goldmine for you, wouldn’t it?

Fallen Angel:  (Long pause, then she smiled.) That’s a good one.  Little Bubba your Auntie [PD] made a funny.

Both of us started laughing so hard we almost cried.  Little Bubba just stood there looking very confused.  He’ll understand soon enough.  LOL

For those of you that don’t get the joke, my sister has a habit of dating men much, much older than herself (i.e. her boyfriend of 7 years who was 40 years older than her and her current old man who is 23 years older.)  She likes ’em already broken in, just like her horses. 😉

Happy humping!

Tequila vs. the Haircut: Tequila wins every time.

A couple of weeks ago I had planned on getting a haircut because I really need one.  I’m starting to get a little bushy on the sides since the girl who cut it last time didn’t know what the hell she was doing.  She cut it so short that I was dangerously close to being mistaken for a boy.  I wanted it short, but not that short.  That was over a month ago and it’s grown out a bit since then.  The sides and back are shaggy and need cleaning up.

That friday I drove an hour to pick up the mail and to make a deposit for my dad.  While I was there I was going to stop by my mom’s hairdresser’s shop and see if she could fix it.

After running all of my errands I decided that since I was supposed to go with my sister to the trail ride/concert/party that Saturday night, I needed alcohol.  I wasn’t actually going for the trail ride part, just the drinking & partying parts.  Don’t misunderstand.  I can ride.  I just choose not to.  Plus I’m so damn short that it takes a ladder or step stool just for me to get on a horse.  Instead of humiliating myself I choose instead to Continue reading

Star light, star bright

I was out on my back porch earlier having a cig & a glass of wine.  As I listened to the crickets chirping, looked up at the night sky full of stars, and watched the lightning storm in the distance, I began to think about how my life might be in twenty or thirty years.

Every time I try to imagine myself as an old woman, all I see is me and my little sister living together in my grandparents’ old farmhouse back in Alabama, and driving each other crazy.  I picture my red hair intermingled with white hair, my skin wrinkled, and my smile tired.  I’ll have a unique fashion sense (meaning bizarre ;)) and being a single old woman, I can pretty much do whatever I want and not have to worry about what other people think of me.  I love that part.  Hell, if I want to go to Wal-Mart in my fur coat, pajamas, and flip-flops, then I’ll damn well do just that.

My life is quiet and simple, yet full of family and friends.  Holidays would be like they once were when my grandmother was still alive.  There would be lots of good home-cooking, none of which I would have cooked.  I leave the serious cooking up to my sister.  I would do the dishes afterwards though because she hates doing dishes, as I well know.

My nephew would bring his wife or girlfriend over to visit, and maybe they’ll even have a couple of kids.  My cousins would come over with their kids.  Of course my little brother would come over late after getting off work at the hospital.  He’ll be a doctor by then.  He’s feisty, but smart.  If I’m lucky or blessed or both, then maybe my parents will still be around to enjoy all that with my sister and me.

I never can picture what I’m doing for work other than just this, writing.  Maybe that’s my calling in life.  Then again, maybe not.  LOL  I believe that as long as I have my friends and family around me, I’ll be just fine.

So as I wish upon a star tonight, I hope all of your nights are filled with beautiful star light.

Happy humping!

The Preacher’s Daughters on child rearing

The other day as my sister and I were driving to town we saw a very small child run out into the road.  The child was probably less than two years old.  On the side of the road was a car, two men working on the car, and a woman sitting down next to the car.  This car just so happened to be parked in the driveway of the alleged local crack house.

As we sat stopped in the middle of the road to avoid hitting the wandering toddler, the “mother” looked up and saw us and then the child in the road.  She quickly jumped up and went and grabbed the child by the arm and began to spank him.  I use the term spank rather loosely because what she did bordered on beating.

How can you justify spanking/beating a toddler for running out in the middle of a busy road?  The “mother” is the one who should have been beaten!  If she had paid attention to what her child was doing instead of sitting on the curb drinking a cold one, smoking and talking to her buddies, the poor kid wouldn’t have made it into the road to begin with.

My sister and I sat in the car and watched, horrified and angered by what we were witnessing.  We both yelled “why the hell is she beating the poor kid?”  The “mother” did look over at us again and saw the look of disgust and anger on our faces.  She pulled the child back over to the curb with her and sat back down.

My sister and I aren’t the types who easily go into any kind of rage, but we were both ready to Continue reading