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Homeward GINGIEEEEE! Loch = The Troll My Brother Nate Chibba Language Various & Sordid |
 
Disclaimer: Since this is meant to be a personal journal of our days, some information may crop up from time to time about certain persons outside of the immediate family. I will only post information that I deem to be public knowledge...stuff that's "out there". I am also very likely to post opinions...maybe this is a little inflamatory to some. Count yourself forewarned. Don't email me all ticked off, OK? The Troll: The Troll passes his May 11th biennial with little fanfare. The Troll suspiciously learns the words for things that he likes, such as candy, toys, orange, pizzie. The Troll uses these words constantly, and to much annoyance of his human guardians. The Troll also learns the word "balls" for a certain part of his anatomy. He calls the whole package "peeball". The Troll will be angered one distant day when he learns I have told these things about him. The Job: I become Computer Girl. I get along really well with everyone, with minor head-butting here and there. Sundry things I learn: 1) There is a lot of uncovered child support out there. I personally know some of the people who aren't paying. They will have a deputy visiting soon. 2) Some lawyers drink on the job. Some don't really know law that well. Some like to argue code with you. Some are very nice, really. 3) Some loopy folks really enjoy hanging out at the CoC. Often. 4) Lots of people get divorced. Lots. 5) Remember, I cannot give legal advice, no matter how knowledgeable I may seem. 6) Stay out of the fray. The Cat: Takes to chipmunk-eating. Day One I find remains of some thing outside the back door. I cannot be sure that Chibba has actually caught this thing; I am sure she has eaten it. I am disgusted, but give her the benefit of the doubt. Day Two, I see her go tearing across the yard, and I race after her. She catches a chipmunk, which I promptly pry out of her mouth. I am too late, and it dies in my hand. I cry. I must be responsible for my instinct-driven kitty. Chibba is goulaged until further notice. So eat that, kitty cat. The Lawn: Our lawn is a wheat field. We buy a mower, and Barry cuts the grass. The mower is stolen. The wheat field returns. To the person/people who stole the mower: Karma has a way of sneaking up on you, doncha know. We wait to see if our mower will return to us before buying another. Landscape guys keep leaving their cards in our mailbox. The Car: We now have two. We buy a Corolla in forest green from the Hertz rental place in Gwinnett. I think it is cozy & zoomy. Barry calls it the Suicide Box. Loch likes to grind his shoes into the back of the front seats, much to my chagrin. Barry drives the grampy ride, and doesn't feel like he's tempting the reaper in it. I do not fear the reaper in the Suicide Box. However, I do fear that The Thief will decide that a mower is not enough, and come back to cart off the Corolla. The Garden: Deer eat a leaf off of one of my strawberries and my beans down to stubs. Yet the stubs grow again. Nature is beautiful like that. I shuck Ivory soap into the garden and sprinkle hair all around. The neighbors must think I'm way odder than I really am. I am working a little household magic on my garden, after all. The deer have not returned. The Hair: The bangs grow out slowly. However, the hair sprinkled into the deer-chewed garden is indeed mine. I cut a hunk out of the back. It poofs around my crown a bit - I have a purposeful bedhead look. The Hobbyist: She has not picked up a brush since finishing the frog painting, though she has mightily wanted to do so. She has, however, made two skirts and a neato pair of plaid flared-leg pants. The Grandmothers: Bobbie is doing well. We visit on the weekend of Mothers Day/Loch's birthday, and she seems well. Janelle laments the fact that she can't really call me at my new job. She laments more that she's going Troll-less for longer now. The Wedding: Tiffany and Eric's wedding is beautiful, as I knew it would be. Personal experiences of the day: I have a little trouble getting up on the stage with the long dress on. I get nervous up there on stage. I cry during the ceremony. I catch that tipping union candle before it started a fire. I forget to hold Brian's arm properly on the way back off the stage. I drink my champagne a little quick. I dance with my husband. I leave early. I have a great time. The Life: Ain't half bad, if I do say so. We're still, as ever, a content little clan. A robin rustles leaves outside my window and my husband and child snuggle on the couch. Chibba looks solemnly out the back door. I am happy. The End. |
