See what I tole you? Yesterday sucked.
It all started off with a bunch of "cry'n in yer beer" stuff. Then it turned into a bunch of weird back, chest, shoulder, leg cramp, right foot, cain't breath pains. I'm tell'n ya, I was think'n "this is it Margaret". A second mug of strong coffee fix all that stuff up in nuttin flat. Along with a couple Advils, Spiriva, pain'n reliev'n cream....an' a lay down for a bit.
Ok, let's build that motorhome this morn'n. Sheesh, nuttin is fit'n right. I got to make some changes. The thought of "dumpster" entered my mind.
You all know that I had cut the sides out before I knowed what size to cut 'em....right? Something bout these sides just don't look right from what I remember Alice look'n like. Four hours was spent go'n through old photos an' copyed to a folder on the desktop (computer desktop) for easy access. What the hell??? The windshield is the wrong size. The liv'n room winder is the wrong size. (They ain't no more, all fixed.) The length don't look right. The height don't look right. Measurements are took. It's right. So why the hell don't it look right. Oh wait, not it ain't right. Modifications are in order for the height. Just that 3/16th inch is gonna take over a hour to fix.
The engine has been assembled an' painted black. The frame was painted black at the same time. Damn, it looks just like a Peterbuilt 18 wheeler. The floor has been added to the frame with super glue......unpainted. "It's got to be painted Billy Bob". It needs to come back off for a paint job. Grrrrrrrr.....to super glue. I cutted my dad gum thumb ya know....tak'n super glued parts apart. Grrrrrrrr...to super sharp cut'n instruments.
I attempted to sleep in "that chair" (recliner) last night. Ya see, at this point in my life, I hate sleep'n in that dad gum bed. Ain't say'n it ain't comfortable or nuttin like that. It's just ever time I go to bed, my mind goes off to a wondering world of total BS. That could be one more reason I stay up so late ever night. That an' the damn TV.
Today's post was gonna be a letter to my son Robert. But....after think'n on it for a hour or so, it would take me a week to write him a letter. Of my 7 kids, Robert is #1. #1 in be'n he was my first born. Any time his daddy has a problem, he is there. Any time I need assistance fix'n stuff, he is there. Any time I am down, the sound of his voice lifts me up. That's my son. I love you Robert. Now all you other kids, I'm gonna take ya out behind the barn an' we gonna have a talk.
My goodness, two days in a row of perfect weather. I know there is still more to come of that dad gum freez'n cold weather, but I'm gonna enjoy all this warmth that I can. I ain't no freak'n Eskimo from Alaska ya know. Do Eskimos live in Alaska????
Oh, before I forgit, I was prepar'n to warsh dishes at 2:30am last night. Loaded up the dish pan, put me some Dawn in there an' fill 'er up with hot water. Piss on them dishes.
Ok, I got things to do. Laters.....
It all started off with a bunch of "cry'n in yer beer" stuff. Then it turned into a bunch of weird back, chest, shoulder, leg cramp, right foot, cain't breath pains. I'm tell'n ya, I was think'n "this is it Margaret". A second mug of strong coffee fix all that stuff up in nuttin flat. Along with a couple Advils, Spiriva, pain'n reliev'n cream....an' a lay down for a bit.
Ok, let's build that motorhome this morn'n. Sheesh, nuttin is fit'n right. I got to make some changes. The thought of "dumpster" entered my mind.
You all know that I had cut the sides out before I knowed what size to cut 'em....right? Something bout these sides just don't look right from what I remember Alice look'n like. Four hours was spent go'n through old photos an' copyed to a folder on the desktop (computer desktop) for easy access. What the hell??? The windshield is the wrong size. The liv'n room winder is the wrong size. (They ain't no more, all fixed.) The length don't look right. The height don't look right. Measurements are took. It's right. So why the hell don't it look right. Oh wait, not it ain't right. Modifications are in order for the height. Just that 3/16th inch is gonna take over a hour to fix.
The engine has been assembled an' painted black. The frame was painted black at the same time. Damn, it looks just like a Peterbuilt 18 wheeler. The floor has been added to the frame with super glue......unpainted. "It's got to be painted Billy Bob". It needs to come back off for a paint job. Grrrrrrrr.....to super glue. I cutted my dad gum thumb ya know....tak'n super glued parts apart. Grrrrrrrr...to super sharp cut'n instruments.
I attempted to sleep in "that chair" (recliner) last night. Ya see, at this point in my life, I hate sleep'n in that dad gum bed. Ain't say'n it ain't comfortable or nuttin like that. It's just ever time I go to bed, my mind goes off to a wondering world of total BS. That could be one more reason I stay up so late ever night. That an' the damn TV.
Today's post was gonna be a letter to my son Robert. But....after think'n on it for a hour or so, it would take me a week to write him a letter. Of my 7 kids, Robert is #1. #1 in be'n he was my first born. Any time his daddy has a problem, he is there. Any time I need assistance fix'n stuff, he is there. Any time I am down, the sound of his voice lifts me up. That's my son. I love you Robert. Now all you other kids, I'm gonna take ya out behind the barn an' we gonna have a talk.
My goodness, two days in a row of perfect weather. I know there is still more to come of that dad gum freez'n cold weather, but I'm gonna enjoy all this warmth that I can. I ain't no freak'n Eskimo from Alaska ya know. Do Eskimos live in Alaska????
Oh, before I forgit, I was prepar'n to warsh dishes at 2:30am last night. Loaded up the dish pan, put me some Dawn in there an' fill 'er up with hot water. Piss on them dishes.
Ok, I got things to do. Laters.....
Your post about Robert brings some tears to my eyes. Some things need to be said before too late. Congrats BillyBob.
ReplyDeleteMiamiGal
Shoot, if''n that brought tears to your eyes, ya should'a see what I was gonna write.
DeleteWonderletter to Robert. And Alice is taking shape I am sure you will figure it out.
ReplyDeleteYou just don't know George, ya just don't know how close this thing come from the dumpster. Man boy howdy did I ever make some changes today....it looks kind of sorta like "Alice".
DeleteA letter is a heartfelt endeavor. But how do you suppose the words of this post and a letter to a ' favorite'
ReplyDeletemakes the other children feel? I know from experience. Dad had his favorite son and it cut us who weren't considered special to our daddy; hurt us even into late adulthood; caused much resentment even at times. I would suggest you write each and everyone of them while you are able. There's no promise of tomorrow.
No where in my post did I say Robert was my favorite son. I said he was my first born (#1 of 7). First borns aren't always a favorite ya know. Ha ha....just #1.
DeleteB.B. i sure hope you are joking about the other 6 kids you help to create . what does it mean about your sentence , ( Now all you other kids, I'm gonna take ya out behind the barn an' we gonna have a talk.) ? i hope you can give the 6 other of your kids a true loving heart felt letters.
ReplyDeleteIf'n you knowed my other kids Louie, I'm think'n you would also take 'em out back for a little talk. But it ain't all their fault. I have a play in the game too.
DeleteYour picture is at an angle and the cut out is straight on, that will definitely make a difference.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness I am an only child. I was my dad's favorite as there were no other kids and sometimes I was the black sheep of the family and was taken behind the barn and given a good talking to :-(
ReplyDeleteAlice is looking good!
Being a parent myself all you told me was that you had loved him longer and he is as handy as a hip pocket!
ReplyDelete