Not much to say...

I'm not really in a 'blogging' space today. My head aches so much I want to have it surgically removed. My throat is all scratchy. I really just don't feel good. I probably would feel better if I had 1) gotten dressed today, or 2) done anything at all. I did play with Little Monster. He tried to get me to ride his little car. Can you picture that? Yeah, a grown woman riding on a baby toy. Not a kid toy, or even a toddler toy, but a baby toy.



I certainly hope no one walked by and saw me, stink lines from my armpits because I didn't shower, bra-less because I didn't get dressed, still in my pajamas, house a mess, riding this:

Next thing you know, I'll be sitting in the exersaucer drooling and making the apple play peek-a-boo with me.

I thought it would never happen!

Yesterday's Prompt..

... was completely and utterly fiction.

Yes, I was tempted to take it another way. I had a really hard time not turning it into something, well, X rated. Is that bad that my mind immediately saw the combination of hearth and missile, and went straight to "bow-chicka wow wow?" I'm sure Not the Momma would be proud. (Naomi, you are not alone!)

No, that is NOT how Not the Momma proposed. He was sooooo much more romantic. (ha)

He had been dropping hints left and right that he was going to. We were so happy. It was kind of disgusting, really. Well, I had been wanting to watch some History Channel thing on the Garden of Eden and where it might or might not be today, etc. So, I'm in my room of my apartment, while he's in the Living Room watching something completely different. About 30 minutes into my show:

"Mary, uh. We need to talk. (long pause) Not now! When you're show is over."

Because he loves me and wanted to make sure I got to watch the rest of my show. The last 30 minutes he wouldn't talk to me, and I was unable to concentrate on the show. The only thing going through my mind was that he was about ready to break up with me. I was terrified. Here I had thought I was getting ready to build a life with this guy, and he was going to dump me, and move to some far off land for the Navy. 30 minutes of PURE. TERROR. (So much terror and stress, in fact, that I got a cold sore from it. Nice, huh?)

After the show, I went out to join him on the couch in the living room. "So, you wanted to talk?"

NTM: "Oh, yeah, what are you wearing to Church on Sunday?"

Me: (almost yelling) "That is NOT what you wanted to talk about! No way did you come in there and tell me that you "needed to talk" and you're asking me what (insert expletive) church I'm going to wear on Sunday!"

NTM: "Seriously. Yes. That is what I wanted to talk about. What are you wearing to Church on Sunday?"

Me: "NTM. Stop. It. Tell me what you wanted to talk about because you don't just use the words "we need to talk" and discuss what I'm going to wear to Church!"

(The guy seriously kills me!)

NTM: "Well, I was just wondering what you were going to wear. Because well, um. I figure I've got 20 years left on earth, and I'd like to spend them with you."

It was about at that point that I realized what was going on. He went on about how he didn't actually have the ring. His sister was holding it for him (because the MORON --love you honey! --had hidden it in his truck). He was worried I'd say no if he didn't actually produce a ring right there, but duh, I didn't care. We were engaged.

Now, isn't that romantic? Oh, he wanted to give me the ring in a special way, too, so he wouldn't let me see it at first. Want to know where he hid it? The dirty laundry. Smart, smart man. Who needs a hearth and a missile and a limousine, when you can have "The Talk?"

PrompTuesday #7

As always, hosted by San Diego Momma .

Technical stuff you need to know:

Rules: 10 minutes or less, 250 words or less, no pressure. Have Fun!

This week's prompt: First sentence for your story: “Dear Diary,”
Setting: In a limousine
Two words you must include while writing:
–Missile
–Hearth

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was the most amazing day. I cannot believe I'm married. Here I sit, in the limousine, on our way back to the apartment. The reception was such a blast! My husband (it feels weird to call him that) is slightly annoyed that I am writing now, but I had to get these words out while the memories are still fresh. There are a few things, I want to remember.

I want to remember the cork from the champagne toast, that took off like a missile, narrowly missing crazy Aunt Lena's glass eye. It hit her in the forehead, but she was already drunk and didn't mind. It's a good thing she was as far away as she was (about 3 tables away), or she may not have been so jovial about the whole thing.

I want to remember the fun we all had, dancing and singing. Watching my family members let go of their conservative selves for just one night. Dancing, drinking, and having a great time. We probably won’t ever see people dance like that again – mostly because we’ll never buy that much booze for that many people, but a good time was had anyway.

Mostly, I want to remember how he proposed. One year ago today, we went to San Fransisco. We were on a budget, so I was expecting a regular room, but I was in for a surprise. The room was gorgeous. It was a suite with a view of The City over the bay. When I opened the door, there was a path of rose petals leading to the fireplace. On the hearth, was a bottle of champagne and two glasses. In my glass, was the ring.

I'm dying laughing over here. That was toooootally cheesy. But, that's how I end up when I try to write fiction. It's also how you know that my posts are the truth! :) All of you NCLM newcomers, you should try out the whole PrompTuesday thing. It's been fun for me! (Oh, and I totally followed the rules this time. Well, except that I'm about 30 words over. But eh, I had to fit in 'hearth!')

Dog for Sale!

Here is a picture:

How can you resist? She's well trained. She climbs right into the highchair for breakfast and dinner. She gets along well with other dogs and doesn't require much effort. She spends most of the day sleeping.

She's an avid rodent hunter.

Wait a minute. She just looked at me. Aw, who am I kidding? I can't sell her! She's FREE to the first commenter. I'm kidding. I swear. I'm afraid she's going to do mean things to me in my sleep now.

Seriously though. I have two options. I can continue to fill in the holes she digs trying to catch us a gopher (Yes, we're still having a regular old caddyshack 2008 over here), or I can embrace her skill and put her to work. Would PETA be upset if I used her to dig a hole for an in-ground swimming pool and create some custom landscaping? Oh, well. Too late.

Here's some photographic evidence of the work in progress. This is what our yard looked like before the excavation began:

Do you see the frolicking and good times being had by all? The nice freshly planted sod? That we spent a weekend laying? breaking our backs, getting dirty? Spending LOTS of money on? Ah, good times.

Here is a rough blueprint of her work, and some photos. I've taken the time to point out the improvments she's already made.



The beginnings of the swimming pool:




This one is difficult to see, because I've filled in part of her work. The grass will most certainly die over time, making the sink hole stand out more.


She's tired now. It's time for a break.

But, if you want a lovable dog and need some excavation done, I'd be happy to loan her out. All you need are an ample supply of dog food, greenies, and a nice, freshly planted, green lawn. Then, she'll get to work right away.