What are you smoking?

I am starting to “wonder” about my readers. Yes, you. The last blog I wrote was F-U-N!!! I even laughed a time or two while typing it. The thing that makes me wonder about “you” is the fact that by the time each one of you got done reading it, you had forgotten the question from the first paragraph!!! It's true! Not one of you has mentioned anything about it.

Soooooo.................cat's out of the bag now. The very first question read:

“I don't even know if I can tell you this whole story and get all the details in! I will give it the old school try though. Fasten your seat belt...this one just may knock you down!! TRUE OR FALSE???”

It's there folks. It was there the first time you read it and it is still there now. Oh how I love giving you a hard time! But don't worry...I have no doubt that if I was in your seat, I would have done the exact same thing you did! Get so involved in the story that you completely forgot.

My husband likes to say that “the story was so good they didn't care about the true or false.” Maybe he's right but I'm not putting any money down on it. After all, he DID marry, right?? How right can he possibly be??? Soooo..............true or false?

Of course it isn't true! Do you really think that would happen to me??? Ha, you know me well! It definitely did not happen that way. Matter of fact, the story was only correct up until the “I took the cleaning bucket out to the car...........” I, in fact, did not take the cleaning bucket out to the car. Quintin did! So from there, the story took it's own turn and I rolled with the punches. BUT, the story did play out in my head while I did the dishes, if it counts for anything.

Seems like I need to throw a good, old-fashioned tall tale in, once in a while, huh??? Ok, I promise!  Now.....that being said.....you are going to possibly think this next story is made up as well. I assure you it happened and here are all the details......BUT FIRST, a little history in case you didn't know. Our home has been victim of two fires in it's history. Not while we lived here, of course. Of course.

As I was doing dishes.....again.....I sure do a lot of dishes, don't I??? Anyway, as I was doing dishes, I came across a cast iron pot. It was very dirty and rusty from sitting in Grandma and Grandpa B's basement for many, many years. I know that when you get NEW cast iron, you have to season it. But this wasn't new as far as I knew. And I'm sure it had been used many, many times. Just not for a whole lot of years!!

I say to my husband, “how am I suppose to clean this up so I don't ruin it?” Well, right or wrong, this is what he told me: Wash it like you normally would but use steel wool on it instead of your dishcloth. So I did. I scrubbed 'er up pretty darn good and dried it off good. What you are about to read next, are the chain of events that followed:

I put some “lard” in the bottom of the pan. Enough to cover the bottom. I then told Quintin that since he was going to be standing there (waiting for his ride to pick him up), he could just do it and I would finish the dishes. He assured me that it was going to stink before it was done but I knew I could handle it.

As he is trying to “burn” the grease in the pan, he decides to put a lid on the pot. Not any lid that may have come with it (none did), but the glass lids that go on our everyday pots and pans. Well, let me tell you this.....putting that lid on it pissed it off in many ways.

I got done with the dishes and cleaning up the counter and start to walk out of the room when I look over to the stove as he lifts the lid off of the pot. What happens when you put a lid on something like that??? Yep, water forms from the steam. So...........as soon as he lifted that lid up, water dripped into the pot and a small fire ensued in the pot.

All I could do for several seconds was just stand there and imagine my white curtains.....directly behind the stove.....going up in flames. I mean, I literally stood there and envisioned it. My very next thought was the glass from the lid was going to explode and I didn't want to be in there when that happened. THEN, I saw our homeowner's insurance start rising with each flicker. “YOU'RE GOING TO CATCH MY CURTAINS ON FIRE!!! MOVE THEM!!!” Yes, I said it in bold AND in red!  At this point, I am trusting my husband and believing he knew what the hell he was doing. He moved the curtains out of the way and continued to play around with that lid. On and off. On and off.

And then the smoke gathered above us. It was black and it was heavy and it was ugly. I opened up the back door and the dogs started to come in and took a big whiff of that smell and high-tailed it right back out to the pen. I turned on the kitchen ceiling fan and then ran to the livingroom to turn that ceiling fan on, as well. I start opening all the windows in the livingroom because the smoke is getting heavy in EVERY room now. Across the house, open the bathroom window.

At this point, all I could think about is work. AND the fact that I had just posted a link on my Facebook THAT DAY telling people NOT. TO. BURN!!! Grrrrrrr!!! Dry conditions and high winds. I had visions of black smoke rolling from my home and fire departments in my yard. Trampling my lilac bush and ruining my burning bushes.

I am running around with my shirt over my nose and breathing through my mouth because the smell is horrific. All of a sudden, my mouth was completely filled with smoke. I couldn't breath at all. I told Quintin to get out of the house NOW and headed for the front door. The dogs kept trying to come in but they didn't ever get past the threshold before turning around and going back to the end of the pen.

I am amazed I made it outside and wished my inhaler was in my pocket then. But no...it was in the house. With everything else. I ran around the house one way, Q the other way, making sure no smoke was rolling out. All I needed was someone calling the fire department on me. Oh I would never live that down!!!

I did, however, have my phone in my pocket this time. Just in case work called to ask if I had decided to burn my property up that day. “Oh my god I bet the upstairs is filled!” I run back in and up the stairs...shirt over my nose....into our bedroom, and the smoke was thicker than ever. You would think there really WAS a fire in there, for all the smoke. I got the window open and a fan in the window to help suck the air out and then went to the bathroom and opened that window up.

Did my husband warn me about all of this??? I think #1: someone didn't know what the hell they were doing and #2: someone didn't do something right. Someone meaning him, not me. Unless you want to count the whole “why don't you just do it” comment that I made to him at the beginning. No, me either.

While I am upstairs with my head in the fan, so I can make it back downstairs, I see Q come outside with the hot pot in his hands (yes, he had potholders). Again...the vision...him just pouring it out and it catches fire and here comes the fire department. I am going to be pissed if something happens to my plants, bushes, and/or flowers!!! “DON'T POUR THAT OUT!” He turns and looks at me and pours it out. Right in front of his truck. Then says, “Why?”

I never said he was the brightest crayon in the box folks. I just said I love him. And, if it catches fire now...it's his truck that burns up. Luckily that didn't happen. I'm surprised it didn't, but it didn't. And there wasn't much for him to pour out. Because the rest of it had magically turned to black smoke that I was inhaling like coalminer's dust.

So, Q got the pot clean. Matter of fact, it looks brand spanking new. It's beautiful. And it probably will never get used for anything. Just because! It has been 24 hours and my house still smells putrid. Just a different putrid than the day before.

Maybe I should be a volunteer firefighter. I now have a lot of respect for those guys and gals that risk their life, going into burning buildings, not knowing what they are facing. Hell, I knew what I was facing and still about fell over from lack of oxygen. I know, I know...I should have crawled. Smoke rises. But I also realize why people don't do that.....crawl around during a fire...because you are so involved in the thought of saving yourself, your family, your pets, your belongings...that you don't think about it.

I don't know if I will ever forget that feeling of “Oh no, I can't breathe,” ever. It's scary. I wondered where I was going to get the oxygen to tell Q to get out. I don't know where it came from. All I know is I found it.

I laugh about it now and tell people that my husband tried to kill me. It's funny now. Of course, in hindsight I should have just hit him over the head with the cast iron pot and continued on with my house cleaning and not done anything. Of course I should have.

Until next time...I hope you enjoyed this tale. It really happened. Just like that. Thanks for reading!

What A Day

I don't even know if I can tell you this whole story and get all the details in!  I will give it the old school try though.  Fasten your seat belt...this one just may knock you down!!  TRUE OR FALSE???

After working the midnight-8am shift, I came home and got to bed a little before 9am.  I slept great.  Right up until 01:00pm.  I woke up and my body was saying "let's go!" while my head was thinking "what?  huh?"

I tried my best to listen to that voice in my head.  Willing my body to just calm down and take another little siesta.  4 hours was not going to get me through the night, I knew that right away!  After an hour of tossing, turning, checking and re-checking my phone...to see what time it was or if anyone had sent me a text message (that I normally would scream about if they had), I finally just got out of bed.

Downstairs we go.  We, as in me and Buddy.  Of course he doesn't let me get too far out of his sight when I'm home and he hates it when I leave.  

As I walk into the kitchen, I am SMACKED IN THE FACE with the most horrid and putrid smell I have ever smelled.  And it had to have been pretty bad because since I had a cold a couple of weeks ago, I haven't gotten my sense of smell or taste completely back yet.  So yeah....it has to be bad to make me think it's horrid, and I trust that it was.

I started out by putting all dirty dishes on top of the counter, nice and neat.  Stacking biggest to littlest and lightest amount of "grime" to heaviest.  I got my dish water ready and as I drop all the silverware/utensils in the water to soak, I decide to get the Mean Green out and so I can douse the stovetop and counters and let it soak into the grease and grime that my dear husband left for me the previous night before we both scooted off to work.

Ugh!  I took the cleaning bucket out to the car to take to the farm the other day and it is STILL in the car.  L-A-Z-Y!!!  I then remember that I have a bottle in the upstairs bathroom.  But I don't want to go upstairs.  Quintin is asleep and well.....I'll be honest...I didn't want to walk the steps.  So outside it is!

Flip flops on and out the door I go...going to great lengths so Buddy doesn't see me head to the door or he will try to go out with me.  I get out to the car and the door won't open.  Duh Shellie it's locked.  Of course it is.  And the keys are in the house.  Of course they are!

As I turn the knob to go in the house.....it won't turn.  It is locked.  Oh dear.  Oh man.  Oh crap!!!  The door is locked and my keys are in the house and Quintin is upstairs asleep and my phone is.....CRAP!!! The phone is also in the house.  And Buddy isn't tall enough to unlock the door!  

Me and my big ideas.

I walk around to the back side of the house; let myself into the dog fence...making Annie think I was coming to play...to get to the back door only to find it locked as well.  WHY do I always lock the doors behind me?  WHY???

So I pull up a chair...at least we have one of those on the back porch...and knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock (you get my drift, right?) constantly.  At one point I got to playing with Annie while listening to Buddy cry inside the house because I was outside and he wasn't...and my knocking, although consistent...had turned to minor pecking.  

I hear something and just as I look up, I see Quintin had come downstairs to see me sitting there, playing with Annie, and he says, "It was you?" as he walked away.  Yes...he walked away.  I stand up and say, "Hey, let me in!  I locked myself out!"  But to no avail.  He was already the stairs and back in bed!  What. The. Hell!

You can imagine just how infuriated I was at that point.  I let myself out of the dog pen and went to the bathroom window.  I remembered that Quintin had told me once that he let himself in that way.  The screen is already off (I wonder why that is???) so I try to push the window up.  It isn't going anywhere.  Maybe it was locked.

Nope.  I distinctly remember making sure it was unlocked because I thought we could get the screen put back on and I could open that window up in the next day or two.  Ok so I know it is unlocked for sure at this point.  

My noodle arms worked and worked and worked and FINALLY got the window to start budging.  I tell you what, I felt like a champion when I got that thing to finally open.  Now I know how those athletes feel when they win at the Olympics!!!

Okay the window is open and the only problem I am foreseeing is getting my not-so-small stature hoisted far enough up to actually throw myself through the window.  Buddy is standing there happy to see me.  And I think he was considering jumping out just to join me!.  

You might be thinking, "Just pull yourself up to the window," right?  That is what a normal person would be thinking I suppose but I'm not normal and like I mentioned above...I have a not-so-small stature.  I knew, with the siding stuff (yes, that's what I'm going to call it) around the windows, I would surely crack it upon hoist and there was no way I was going to test my husband with that today!

I looked around for something to step up on and find nothing.  Any other day of the year I could find any piece of junk laying around that my husband so conveniently left for future use but NOOOOOOO!!! NOT today!!!  

We have some rocks.  Bigger type rocks that line our flower gardens.  I will just grab some of those...pile them up...get up on top of them and climb in the window.  Easy peasy!!!

Easy peasy, yeah!

I took three big rocks and stacked them and then got up on them just for them to tumble.  Rats!  So I take the same rocks and stack them back up and go get some other rocks and put around them so that the rocks I need to stand on, can't move.  That took me a little bit...to get all the rocks I needed.  
By the time I was done, I had a mini stage.  Why didn't I just do that in the first place???  So up on my stage I go.  Very steady!  Good job Shellie!  I lean into the window and of course, Buddy thinks I'm playing with him.  My head and upper body are hanging inside and he runs and gets his toy skunk and lays in (literally) on top of my head. 

So now...anytime I move my head...he thinks I'm going to take it from him and he tries to grab it.  And I get to laughing.  And my bottom half is still hanging out the window.  Now I need to pee.  This isn't going so well.  Why do I have to lock all the doors???

Inch-by-inch I am crawling my body inside my own home...while my dog is pulling my hair...along with a stinky, squeaky skunk...and there seems to be a nail.  Not a huge nail but one just big enough to catch the top of my thigh...and then grabs my shorts.  I tried to get myself unhooked but at this point, I just wanted to get inside before someone saw me.  

For all I know, the whole town was outside taking pictures.  I should have just peed!!

Inch by miserable inch, the nail rips through my shorts.  I am far enough in the house now so I start squirming out of the shorts.  I figured I would try to save them if possible.  I fall to the bathroom floor only to get this wet, stinky skunk dropped on my face.  I am in my t-shirt and underwear.  At some point, those flip's done flopped off my feet.  My shorts are hanging inside the window...by a nail...ripped almost the whole way down and I feel like if I move any part of my body...I will pee in my underwear.

Hey, at least I am inside the house, right???  And then the thought hits me..."I could have just walked up to the store and called Quintin from the very beginning!"  Oh man!!!

Carefully, I make it over to the toilet and what, before my wandering eyes, appeared???  My wonderful husband in the mirror...coming downstairs.  

"Good morning sweetie.  How has your day been?"

I think I need a do-over!!!

Until next time...thanks for reading!!! (P.S. the kitchen is clean now)

What brings us closer

I don't even know where to begin with this post so I will just pick a sentence and go from there.

I am amazed at all the good that comes from the bad.  It wasn't that long ago that some very dear girls in my life lost their dad in a snowmobile accident.  Rest in peace Mike Garner.  These girls...Amanda and Caycie...I love them like they were my very own...and they didn't get to say goodbye to their dad.  They didn't get that "one last hug."  They didn't get to tell him, just one more time, I love you.

If I could do anything for them, it would have been that.

If there's something in this world that I hate...it is seeing people that I love, hurt.  And you girls know I love you.  My heart felt like it weighed a ton the second I was told the news.  All I wanted was to hold you girls while I found a way to make it better for you.  Better for all of you.

I thought of Mike's wife, Kelly, who is such a sweet woman.  She always had a smile on her face when I saw her.  I thought about the burdens that would be put upon her.  Decisions that nobody thinks they will have to deal with until "later."

I will try to keep this short because this subject makes my heart hurt for my own dad.

I have many times, caught myself thinking about how precious every memory of Mike is now.  How each "first" holiday will have just a little more special meaning to everyone that loved Mike.

It won't be easy...as most of us know.  But they will get through it and they will get stronger for it.  I still wish there were more I could do for them.  I will continue to love them and support them and be there for them in whatever they need me for.

I wasn't able to attend Mike's funeral but I was at the visitation and I remarked at how I felt like I was at the All-School Reunion.  People from my past that I hadn't seen for years.  People that I didn't recognize until someone told me who they were.  People that I didn't have a clue about, even after being told who they were!  It's amazing that something so sad can bring so many people together.  All in the name of love and respect for one person.

I just couldn't let this go without saying something because I still feel so much pain for all of them.  Again, rest in peace Mike.  You will never be forgotten.  Many, many people loved you and looked up to you.

Sometimes it seems as though we are saying goodbye to too many people these days.  I'd like to turn that around for many of us right now.  I'd like to give a shout out to baby Landon Shaw.  5 month old fighter from Tarkio, Missouri.

If you haven't heard about baby Landon by now well...you must be living under a rock!  This little miracle...at only 5 months...has undergone more than what most adults go through.  At 4 months, he was taken to Children's Mercy Hospital, in Kansas City, because of his vomiting and weight loss.  A tumor was found on his kidney and that was quickly removed.  As if that wasn't enough, doctor's then found a mass on baby Landon's brain.

Baby Landon wasn't expected to live through that night after the surgery.  He had lost a lot of blood and his heart had even stopped during surgery.  But he survived.  And is still surviving.

And then..........."Plunge for Landon" came about.  People started taking the cold water plunge, in the name of baby Landon.  They videoed themselves, introducing themselves and laying out a challenge for three or more people to do the same in 24 hours and state their donation preference.  Then they turned to the water...the cold, cold, water...and either jumped in, ran in, got pushed in, were dunked in...however they could get in, they got in!  And then history was in the making.

More and more people started doing it.  Facebook became alive with video after video of people of all age groups...all parts of the country; the world...immersing themselves in the icy goodness of the nearest body of water.  All in the name of baby Landon Shaw.

I have taken the plunge and would do it over and over.  What a fantastic cause!  Look at how we all came together for the sake of a little baby boy that the majority of us "challengees" don't even know!  I don't know about you but I am proud to be a part of such a large group of people that took some time out of their day to take the plunge.  Proud to be part of something to help someone else.  Proud to say "I took the plunge for baby Landon!"

For everyone that plunged, YOU ARE AWESOME!  For those that donated, YOU ARE AWESOME! And for those of you that prayed...and continue to pray for baby Landon, YOU ARE AWESOME!

I read in an article that at one point, even Facebook lost count of how many videos had been uploaded for this cause.  I once heard a saying.  It goes like this, "Alone we can do so little, but together, we can do so much!"  (Helen Keller)

Until next time.....thanks for reading!!!