While I was off on my mental break, my husband worked 5 – 18 hour shifts.  Which meant I was left home alone to attend to all the household chores.  By myself. Just me.  In charge. Which included any manly chores as well.

Thankfully Meier’s Landscaping was in charge of maintaining the grass cutting but everything else was of up to me.   Watering, cleaning, laundry, shoe smacking spiders, etc.

On one of the “I’m home alone woot woot” days, I spent a couple hours outside watering the grass and flowers, cleaning the patio furniture and filling the pond with water.  I was getting a little water happy with my hose.  But once I get my water bill, my “If you like it than you shoulda put some water on it” dance won’t be so fun anymore.

After the water chores, I headed indoors to the sink to do a few dishes.  With just myself home I was enjoying a nice, quiet, clean house.  If you’re a regular reader you should know I love being home alone!  I love deer season.  I love that my husband and I can have our “alone” time.  But just as I was enjoying that moment of “alone” time I looked outside at the pond and there it was…

A dead floater frog in my pond.

Belly up.

In my pond.

Floating.

Dead.

Floating huge frog the size of my pond – in my pond.

Dead.

Help me!

Scared wife missing her husband phone call:  Um Mark…there’s a dead frog in the pond.

Mark: Jody I’m at work.

Scared wife that never calls her husband during working hours unless it’s an emergency:  Well there’s a dead frog in the pond.

Mark:  I’m at work Jody.  It’s just a frog.  You’re a big girl.

Big girl:  ^%$# bye.

Why do things like this happen while he’s gone?  This one year at home alone camp,  I couldn’t even turn the irrigation system on without mooning the folks on the bike trail.

I stood there for a few minutes, realized I need to be a big girl, thinking about my options.

1. Do I scoop it up and throw it in the garbage?  Oh my frog heavens no – can’t do it.
2. Do I scoop it up and run to the bike trail and throw it over the fence?  Oh my frog heavens no – I’ll drop it and end up stepping on it.  Or falling on it. Probably falling on it.
3. What if it’s still alive?  Maybe if I scoop it out and flip it on it’s belly he might hop away.  But what if he takes his last hop of life breath and lands on my foot?  Oh my dead frog!

And then I did what big girls don’t do…

I’m so ashamed…

I left it there.  Floating.  Swearing I’d never look at that pond again. But each morning I’d run to the window and peek out to see if floater frog was still belly up and there he’d be.  Suffering in my pond.

Have I mentioned how much I miss my husband when he’s gone.

I hate being alone.

911 what’s your emergency:  Umm hi, there’s a dead frog in my pond.

Have a good day all!

Image from:  RJ-Fountains & Ponds and I just may have to buy him.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my niece to our local annual fishing derby.  Each year the sponsors provide the first 300 kids a gift.  This year’s gift – tackle boxes.

Me:  Oh look Addison, you got a tackle box for all your fishing stuff.

Addison:  Auntie Jojo, can I put my makeup and my girls in my taco box?

And with that, we unloaded one bag full of girlie toys and makeup and loaded into her new taco box.

She did end up catching a bluegill that day …

And like her Auntie Jojo she didn’t want any part of touching it.

And please ignore the fact that my husband needs a little bit of sun on a few other parts of his body.

Have a good day all!

First, I’d like to say thank you to those that were worried about my absence.  Your kindness means a lot.

I hate becoming a regular reader to a blog and they go missing for weeks without any explanation.  Not that they owe me one, but I guess you come to worry about someone when they’re gone hoping all is alright in their world.

As for my world … well …

I have several people in my life that I’ve been extremely worried about and blogging, socializing and networking became too overwhelming.  It’s hard running a humor blog when all you want to do is ignore the world and clean out closets.  So I stopped blogging, socializing, networking -  ignored the world and cleaned out closets.

I hope to get caught up on a few blogs this week to see what all of you have been up to.  Hopefully good things!

Enjoy your day!

Jody

As a wife, there are things we necessarily wouldn’t do but we do just to please our husbands.  I could probably make this a series but I wouldn’t want to torture other wives.  It’s bad enough we do them, let alone have to read about them.  But I will share how I came about a new job position I think Cabela’s should hire me for.

It all started at our weekly visit to our local Cabela’s.  My husband and I spend a LOT of time in Cabela’s.  So much time that I once hid in a camouflage blind and painted my nails.  Because I get bored. Shopping with my husband.  That can NEVER make up his mind.

So we’re standing by the sunglass stand for what seemed like an hour.  Being the nice wife that I am, I whispered to myself so he couldn’t hear me, “For the love of the outdoors, would you pick a *(*&*( pair already. How long does it take to find a pair of sunglasses?  Do these make my head look big?  WTPick a pair.”

I don’t even know what all I was mumbling as the Cabela’s workers grabbed their walkie talkies:  The crazy lady that talks to herself is here again.  Aisle 20.  10-4.

As another hour went by and in hopes the loud speaker would announce, our storing will be closing in 15 minutes, my husband was still checking himself out in the sunglass mirror.

Then it finally hit me…

Smart wife:  “Honey, those make you look hot!”

Serious husband’s response:  “Do they?”

As I turn to the cute young Cablea’s worker standing nearby and asked, “Don’t you think those sunglasses make my husband look hot?”

Cute Cabela’s worker with a smile:  “They look really good on you.”

And within that minute, my husband bought himself a pair of sunglasses.

Have a good day all!

Love,

The New Men’s Department Cabela’s Associate.

P.S.  For the love of all sales commissions, do not put me in this department …

Whoot whoot. New job at Cabela’s prancing around in my heels…

Hi, what kind of gun are you looking for?

The kind that shoots deer.

Oh no.  You don’t want to hurt a cuddly little baby deer.

How about a new pair of silky camouflage undies?  I bet your wife will think you’d look  hot in those.

My husband and I have backyard issues …

Me:  Can I plant morning glories on the back fence?

Sgt Yard Man:  No.  All those seeds will drop and spread all over my lawn.

Me:  Can I get a hummingbird feeder?

Sgt Yard Man:  No.  You’ll get red juice all over the yard and it will stain my grass.

Me:  Can I feed the squirrels?

Sgt Yard Man:  No.  They’ll want to come back for more and eat my tomatoes out of the garden.  And dig up my lawn.

Me:  Can I get one of those huge bird houses we saw in Kentucky?

Sgt Yard Man:  No.  It will attract bats.

Me: What about a little baby bird house?

Sgt Yard Man: No. They’ll eat berries and shit purple all over my patio. (He said the “S” word not me.)

I’m done asking. I need to get creative. No more asking. No more being told no. He has told me no for the last time. I’ll show him and his patio full of poo.

I’ll have more birds in my backyard than he has critters on the wall.

And he’ll never know why …

see more

Have a good day all … Now I just need to figure out where to hang my morning glories.

This past weekend our niece and her husband had a Fourth of July party in their backyard.  They have an absolutely beautiful yard and landscaping around their house, compliments to her husband that owns Adam’s Landscaping.

Kids were everywhere swimming in the pool, jumping in the jumpies, playing on the kiddie playground and standing in line at the hot dog vendor.  Please take note:   Hiring a hot dog vendor makes it so much easier than standing by a grill all night.

It was a fun evening and everyone waited anxiously for the fireworks show.  Except … well … me.

Did I mention I’m not a big fan of fireworks? Well, I’m not. I just know a firework will go astray and land right on my hair.

Fire!

The Hunter’s Wife is on fire!

Again!

At the very first BOOM, I ran in the house.

Why you in the house Jody, you’re missing the show.
My hair will catch on fire.

How come you’re not outside Jody, it’s amazing.
My hair will catch on fire.

Come outside.
I can’t, my hair will catch on fire.

And after what seems like the longest fireworks show in history, I wanted another hot dog.  Maybe a chili cheese dog will calm my nerves.

BUT I knew what would happen if I ran out for a hot dog …

Yum hot dog!  Skipping across the lawn with my hot dog.

Aww the fireworks.  Right above my head.

WTFlames – hair on fire …

So I stayed in the house with the scaredy kids and the tranquilized dog.

Have a good day all … It’s going to be a long holiday weekend.  If only my dog were afraid of fireworks.  We could hide under the bed together.  Wonder if Mark will bring me a hot dog?

In north Indiana, a hunter’s duck hunting season runs from October through December but my duck hunting season runs from May through June.

While a hunter anxiously awaits the upcoming duck hunting season, I anxiously await the upcoming duck egg sightings.

As the hunter waits armed with a gun, I wait armed with a camera.

The hunter is dressed to kill in camouflage, I’m dressed to kill in a black sweatsuit searches my neighbors bushes.

A hunter might use a trail cam to see what may roam, I’ve used a trail cam to see what mean dirty critter ate my duck eggs.

The hunter can come home empty handed, while I end this season brokenhearted.

It’s almost July and I’m afraid I’ve missed the hatching of any baby ducks. I’m afraid they’ve hatched and galloped across someone’s yard besides mine.   They’ve moved to safe waters for the season.

Have a good day all … Until next season.

I’m back.  I’ve missed all of you and me as well.  But when life is of the serious kind, it’s hard to sit down and write about a cute cuddly fawn that I want to squeeze, hug and protect from my hunter.

I won’t bore all of you with the serious matters life sometimes deals, but I will share that it’s been a stressful couple of weeks.  So stressful that I about chased down two teenage floozies with my car the other day.

Remember this scene from the movie Fried Green Tomatoes ?

It’s one of my favorite scenes from the movie. And when Kathy Bates says, “Face it girls, I’m older and I have more insurance,” I can relate.  (Thanks Sherry K for reminding me I’m Kathy Bates.)

Please excuse the soon to come language.  I had road rage.

I’m driving along minding my own business bouncing around in my car to my radio when two teeny boppers decide to ride my ass.

Please note: my BIGGEST pet peeve are teenagers that have no respect for their elders.  I grew up saying yes ma’am, yes sir and still call my parents friends Mr. and Mrs.  At no time would I ever think to flip off someone older than me.

Unless … well … maybe … I knew they wouldn’t see me.

So my little lead footers continued to ride my ass for several blocks.  Now, I could understand if I was 110 years old driving 10 in a 30 but I was doing 40 in a 35.  This is not the week my little disrespectful know-it-alls.

I’ve been driving for almost 30 years without a ticket.  (Knock on wood.)  They’ve been driving for, ummm, 2 months?  Maybe 3.  Who in the heavens do they think they are riding all up in my grill? I’ll show them.

I slightly tapped on my brake, slowed down and looked in my rear view mirror to see two out of control disrespectful teenage girls flipping me off.

It went down hill from there …

Me talking out loud to myself:  Who in the hell do they think they are %^&ing flipping me off.

Continuing the conversation with myself:  You little ^&*ing ^&*#’s.  (I will not repeat what I actually said.  I’m a lady.  Except when in my car by myself.  And use the f word. And sometimes c word.)

One of my concerns:  I wonder who their parents are?

And just as they tried to go around me …

Sorry disrespectful know-it-alls. I &^&*ing own that side of the road too.

This went on for several blocks until I finally let them pass me.  And then I did what any grown adult would do…

I looked straight ahead with my head held high and flipped them off as they drove by. And then I called my nieces and told them they better never do that to an older lady or I will rip their hair out.

Have a good day all … If Kevin Costner ever crashes his car and I need to rescue him, I wonder if anyone would find out I have him locked in my basement? Misery

Love, Kathy Bates

For those of you that hunt, I’m sure there have been times when you or possibly a fellow hunter swore they saw the biggest buck they’ve ever seen. But in all reality the size of the buck was …

And then there’s my way of sizing deer…

This one time on a social networking site I mentioned how I saw a cute little baby doe. Then some know-it-all had to go and say, “It isn’t the time of year for little baby does. They come in the spring.”

Ok, so maybe it was a 1 or 2 year old. Then I got all sweaty thinking now the woodly man is going to ask me how old it really was.

Outdoor quiz.

Sweating.

Time to log off social networking site.

Because how in the woods would I know?!

Do I look like I hunt?

Then yesterday I mentioned how I just saw a little button buck galloping down the driveway. And after I hit enter I thought, for the love of the outdoorsy man, if he tells me cute little button bucks don’t have their furry antlers yet. Or it’s too early to tell if it is male or female with no antlers at all yet. Or button bucks only come out in the fall. Or button bucks can’t walk yet.

He needs to just mind his own.

Because I know what I saw …

And he was the cutest little furry antler button buck ever!

Have a good day all …  I need to go lay out some corn for my new baby buck.

I’m back.  I hope.  My last post was last Monday and all I can say is life behind a computer screen took over.  I’ve been busy with work, baby showers, wedding showers, and visiting friends joyriding.  The free time I did have consisted of laying on a couch resting.  Ok, I’m guilty of spending time playing a few games on Facebook building my frontier in Frontierville.  But like with Yoville, I’ll move on to other things.

Wonder what game will come out next?

My absence also has to do with not visiting other blogs and other outdoor bloggers not blogging.  Sometimes I do find material from my outdoor blog friends.  Like the time Rex revamped his camouflage tinkle room and used it to entice me to come down for a visit.

For the record, I’ll be at the Hilton.

And we’ll blame my husband as well because that’s my duty as his wife. But he’s been boring. Cutting grass. Cutting grass. And cutting grass. Boring! Or watching cops. Or, like yesterday, I caught him watching the all day marathon of the Kardashians.

WTH

He wasn’t watching hunting, or fishing, or hunting, or spending time outside mole whacking …

My rough and tough hunter spent his day watching the Kardashians.

Wasting his day away.

Have a good day all … I need to go water my crops in Frontierville before they die.