January 27th, 2009 | 10 Comments »

Ass Burger Boy and myself were talking about “the Nan”, which is what everyone called my Mom. She had many quirks, as most people do, but we found hers an endless source of amusement.

Ma was a cooking fool. I well remember her baking bread at the same time she had a hoover washer/spin dryer hooked up to the sink. Just imagine piles of wet laundry, and flour flying in clouds. This was a regular activity.

She would make up a huge batch of something to have leftovers which she could freeze. If she had leftovers that didn’t make it to the freezer, and she was suspicious that it might not be at its peak freshness, she was quick to offer food to anyone who visited.

If it seemed a bit off, I would 86 it. ABB has a real problem throwing away food, and sometimes it worked to his detriment. Every once in a while he got the squirts after being at the Nan’s.

Today, we had a decision. I made a shephard’s pie which was yummy, but the next day, we both had the squirts. I wasn’t really sure what caused it, but decided that if we were going to eat the remainder of the very large shepherd’s pie, it was going into the oven as if it were never cooked previously.

I had a large portion, showing no fear. ABB had a smaller portion, which for him, is unusual. That boy can chow down.

I guess we will see what tomorrow brings, won’t we?

Shaddap, Ma. I hear you laughing at me.

January 13th, 2009 | 18 Comments »

I’m running on my last brain cell here, and it’s feeling mighty lonesome today.

Frankly, I’m rather tired. I could totally sleep right now, but have to work a few more hours today to be in line with my goals.

Saturday, a friend picked me up to take me out of the house, and I was completely unable to make a decision about where to go. Heck, I even went to the wrong vehicle a few times. I had my priorities straight though. I picked up a pair of polar fleece jammies. They came in handy when the furnace went on the blink. Winter is cold in most parts of Canada.

Yes, my poor little blog has been neglected. I’m sorry. I’m also sorry for all of those comments I just haven’t written on your blogs. When I’m not working, I seem to want to spend very little time on the computer. When I’ve been blogging, it is during a break, on the laptop, so I can be sitting with my feet up and a cushion behind my back. Most of my scheduled breaks involve boring things like making supper, cleaning up, hygenic and metabolic activities. I’m so boring I put my own self to sleep.

Ass Burger Boy ruined his computer the other day by ferking around with changing out motherboards and video cards. He had a kick arse video card, and just had to see if it would work on another system. I suspect the problem is with the motherboard mount. I looked at the stands, and think he may have carelessly installed it. (There were some missing) Now he’s all screw-drivery, and at least, that is distracting him from World of Warcraft withdrawal. The laptop is inadequate for his Warcraft needs, and I need my desktop machine for work. I can’t justify buying another machine right now. He’s very resourceful. He always comes out of a computer problem smelling like a rose.

We’ve had some interesting discussions since the great computer tragedy. He suddenly has time to talk to me. One discussion involved angels who walk the earth.

I was going to write an actual post. You know, like I used to? Telling a story? Instead, when I started writing, all of this unrelated boringness just spewed out of me. I’ll gladly refund you your money if you feel cheated.

December 26th, 2008 | 16 Comments »

Freedom! I can smell it, just around the corner.

Speaking of smells, I’m simmering turkey carcass to make stock. I made so many mashed potatoes for yesterday’s feast for two that I’m also fixing to freeze me a shepherd’s pie. Because, really, how often can you face left over mashed potatoes?

I was very happy this year that Ass Burger Boy chose to stay at home for the celebratory meal. There was a wee glitch when I upended his wine glass while reaching for the cranberry sauce. His meal was swimming in wine. He wouldn’t allow me to replace it, and even said the extra wine was quite yummy. (He had two more helpings, with only wine in his glass, not on his plate)

He ended up rather intoxicated.

I shouldn’t have refilled his glass.

I hope that you had a lovely, cosy, holiday meal, and happy family times.

November 19th, 2008 | 11 Comments »

The story is recycled, not the toilet. Just so ya know. It’s from a year or so ago, back when I had 300 hits per month.

One of the characteristics of autistic behaviours is obsessions. Come to think of it, I just might be autistic myself. But this isn’t about me. Hah!
Ass Burger Boy was obsessed with toilets ever since toilet training began. I think I may have helped to fuel this obsession, since I was pretty eager not to clean up poop.

This obsession impacted my older sister, who had taken ABB to Sears and was thoroughly mortified when he demonstrated his big boy skills in the display toilet. I don’t think she praised him for it. Encouragement is critical during toilet training. It may have set him back a bit.

By sheer accident, I stumbled onto the “What’s in it for me?” method of motivating ABB. I swear I knew the instant he was toilet trained for real. I could see in his eyes the connection as he made it to being a big boy, toilet training, and another fascination of his, which was beards. Since every time he used the potty, I told him he was getting to be a bigger boy, it really clicked with him when I said that when he was bigger, he could grow a beard of his own, much preferable to feeling up the beards of random strangers. I swear I used all the creativity I could muster to motivate that chile.

During this very long period of time,we lived in a place with air in the pipes, and the toilet made a horrifying noise, which I tried to explain by telling him that the toilet needed to clear its throat. Yes, in hindsight, this was entirely stupid of me, but hey, the kid was terrified. Frankly, so was I. Terrified he would never come near a toilet again. I saw myself changing poopy diapers up to the time I might need mine changed. The noise it made sounded like a screechy ERRRRRR, so we made friends with it, and called the toilet Errr.

This led to a great curiosity about other people’s toilets. He wanted to find out if anyone else had a toilet with personality that he could befriend.

Every time we went to a place he hadn’t been to before, he would ask the inhabitants right away “What colour is your toilet?” followed by “Can I see it?” These are the questions he came up with after I had to hurriedly explain to him that only our toilet was called Errr, because of course, he asked to see their Errr, and they had no idea what the Errr he meant.

A few years after he was toilet trained, he asked less often to see people’s toilets, and he quit entirely asking them what colour their toilet was. I didn’t fully understand the perseverance of his obsessions, but was happy to let it go.

A few weeks ago, I asked him if when he goes to a new place, he makes it a point to use the bathroom.

Yes, yes, he does. He has just gotten more subtle with his obsessions as he has matured. And now, I have more mildly amusing stories, and less explanations to provide.

August 29th, 2008 | 9 Comments »

Warrior Woman came to my house last evening. I was expecting to feed her, and was starving when I got the call that she had already eaten.

Ass Burger Boy and I dove into my jazzed up rice and sun dried tomato sausage, with a side of garlicy yellow beans. We was hungry puppies.

I had saved the wine bottles from her previous five visits. We wanted to start a collection. They stood on the living room floor, where I had left them. She took pictures with her new camera. We set her up on our network.I didn’t take a picture of her and ABB on the sofa, each with their laptop. Since both she and I blog anonymously, the pictures would reveal too much. I did mention parallel play.

She’s having a contest at her site. You really should go over and see the prizes. She wants you to blog drunk. Since I generally blog in the morning or early afternoon, I don’t believe that I will win. Bonus! You don’t actually have to be drunk. She’s all kinds of awesome that way.

Extra bonus: She took a picture of me in my natural habitat, wearing my all-time favourite polar fleece jammies. I took the other pictures with her new camera. There’s one of her in there, incognito, of course. Go see.