It Did It Again

Last night.......It did it again.

I didn't want it to........My GOD! WHEN will it stop?!?

I can't take any more of it. I want it to just go away.

But I know it won't. At least not for a while. Those awful people said it might even do it again.

Why Lord? WHY?

I'm a wuss.

Growing up in where I did in California didn't offer many chances to live with snow. We were lucky if we saw evidence of the white stuff every 5 -6 years. The only times I can remember seeing it sticking and staying of the ground in any amount was back in 1974, and it happened again in 1999. We didn't get to really see it snow. It happened in the middle of the night, and most people woke up to it when they heard their trees cracking and the limbs falling on their house. No, there wasn't that much snow, just unaccustomed trees. Snow was such a rarity that they shut the whole town down that day.

This is not to say that we never saw or played in snow every year. There are plenty of places around us that recieved gobs of the white wonder. We'd bundle up. Fill the trucks full of "stuff" and snacks and blankets. Set off for our 1-3hour drive with our caravan of friends and family and spend the day sledding and playing snowball fights with the kids. We played hard, or at least the trees we ran into were hard...but when we all tired out , we climbed into our warm vehicles with our wet clothes and drove home to our houses that were not surrounded by snow.

Now, the snow follows me wherever I go. It's in my truck, in my house, in my shoes, in my freezer.......yeah, freezer. Homemade snowcones. Yummmmm.... Oh,... um.... back to my bitching....It's everywhere!

I can't drive in this stuff.

I'm a wuss.

So I take the 4-wheeler anywhere I need to go, as long as I don't leave OUR road. Oh, and a 4-wheeler is a QUAD to all you west coast folks.

They don't say QUAD aroun' these parts. It's F-O-U-R W-h-e-e-l-e-r or they start lookin' at you all funny like.... and say stuff like..."is you one of them there Call-i-for-ni city folk?" at which I just smile pretty like and reply " Nope! I'm from TEXAS!"

Construction Jargon #1

Construction Term: Blue Room

What It Means: A sanitary name for the common color of the very unsanitary temporary structure. Great works of literature are often written in these rooms.
a.k.a Port-A-Potty

Meet She-She

This is She-She.

She was found in a box, with two other puppies, left on a construction site in the city. The box said

For Sale: $3

She-she was so tiny she fit in City Boy's tool bags.

Here's She-She now. The "country" dog.

She-She's a Mutt. The other puppies that were in the box when she was found were undoubtedly rottweiler and chow-chow. But I swear she's part deer.... part cat..... part jack rabbit, too.... and ALL bark. She loves to play fetch , swim in the pond and playing with our closest neighbor's dog.
She-She rides in the truck with Barbie Girl and I down to the bus stop every morning. She goes absolutely balistic if she happens to see and kind of wild critter...she has the undeniable urge to chase them.

She-She helps me with my critters and is my personal companion.

She is the eater of all things.... cleaner of all things dropped....scapegoat(dog?) of all thing stinky-butt related....and the sole reason why I vacuum daily.

A keeper of critters

I'm a keeper of critters. Right now, mainly chickens.

Yeah. Chickens.

I never gave a flip about chickens before. I hated them. I didn't even like KFC. Give me good 'ol beef anyday. Keep your chicken. But something weird, something wonderful and very strange came over me when City Boy and I were looking at buying our new home here in the Ozarks. A lightbulb flashed in my head and I blurted:

"I wanna keep livestock! No. No, wait! I wanna get chickens"

City Boy didn't have much to say about this. He knew in his heart that there was no way I would ever get chickens. I didn't like chicken. Ever.

I bought my chickens from some local Mennonites. I came home with five - 1 year old Buff orphington hens in a borrowed cage and some chicken feed. I called City Boy at work...

City Boy: "Hello."

"Hi honey." in a sugary-sweet voice "Are you going to be working late today?"

City Boy: "Not today. Why?" pause "What do you want?"

"Nothing really. I just need you to build a chicken coop when you get home. These girls can't stay in this cage for long cause I need to give it back to the Mennonite folks."

City Boy: "Huh? Girls? What cage?"

He knew in his heart I'd never get chickens. Ever.

More about Me...

My name is V. This is my website. Welcome to my Ozark Follies.

I was born a poor California city-girl......no, really.... I was.

Married. A typical soccer mom (MILF). Had a little house in the middle of town. A career. Took my daughter to ballet classes, my son to football practice and even had play-dates....

Now, I'm living on a remote hilltop in the middle of the Ozarks....with no cell phone!

I'm a thirty-something SAHM, mother of two and wife, to the love of my life, City-boy.

I was the baby of my family - read "spoiled" - and was a model student....I wasn't a popular kid...but I didn't fit in with nerds either, so I wasn't noticed much...at least not until I got pregnant in high school. Then everyone knew who I was.

I didn't like living in the city....I dreamed of being a country girl, a cowgirl, and riding horses.
Now that I'm here, I don't have a single horse, I'm definately NOT a cowgirl and I have no clue what I'm doing.

Sooooo.....
I spend my days learnin' how to live out here in the country....doin' things I could never have done in the city...let alone, in California.

Let me introduce you to:

MY FAMILY

City Boy works away from home in the nearest big city. He is a work-a-holic and is VERY good at what he does. He works in a construction-type trade and brings home some knarly jokes. I promise to share them with you.

Here's a picture of City-Boy

I'm the mom of two.

The oldest being the cause of my sudden high school popularity. Big Dog, still lives in the city. Big dog is cool, he's goofy as all-get-out, but he's cool, way cooler than me. He's also on his way to making the family history with his size. Just in the last year he passed me in height by a foot. And I won't even get started on his FEET....size 13...enough said.


The youngest joined us on our adventure East.

Here's a picture of Barbie-girl.
Barbie girl is the wearer of all things pink and frilly. I don't think there's an ounce of tomboy in her body. She is my exact opposite except that she's got a smart mouth like me.

A disclaimer about Barbie girl.... as I post more and more pictures, there is bound to be a few that show Barbie girl with little or no hair. Barbie girl is a cancer survivor. There. It's out. Now leave it alone.

As for what I look like? Well.... I prefer not to take pictures of me. So I'll leave that to your imagination.
I will tell you I've got red hair.