formerly Diane's Addled Ramblings... the ramblings are still addled, just like before, and the URL is still the same...
it's just the title at the top of the page that's new

Friday, April 17, 2009

Friday Farrago... (and an Award!)...

Happy Friday, dear bloggy friends! The sun is finally shining in my little corner of Pigsknuckle... the redolence of spring is in the air (and by 'redolence of spring' I mean 'stink of manure')... and the ever-looked-forward-to weekend is just about here. Whoo hoo!

Before I move on to other farrago-ish topics ('farrago' is my word of the day), let me get back to that manure thing for a sec. You know I lived in 'the city' for most of my adult life, right? I like 'the city'. I do. But when my marriage ended, I felt it best to leave 'the city' and return to Pigsknuckle, mostly to be near family, as familial support (dysfunctional though it may be) is important to single parents... but also because I remembered 'the country' as being rather a pleasant place. It was quiet... bucolic... serene, even. You know what I didn't remember, though? Well, besides gun-totin'-camouflage-wearin'-dead-deer-hangin'-out-the-back-of-the-truck season, that is... The smell. I didn't remember the smell. The country stinks, people. And you know what it smells like? Shit... that's what it smells like. Now that I'm back, I completely remember how the stench affected me when I was younger (and by 'affected' I mean 'gagged'). My dad used to say, "Take deep breaths... it goes away faster." I'd always reply, "No it doesn't... you just die quicker." I was always kidding but last year in Pigsknuckle, an entire family was killed when they succumbed to the build-up of methane gas from the manure tank on their farm. You know where methane gas comes from? Yup. Shit. And cow farts. The incident was really tragic but I have to (ashamedly) admit, the idea of being killed by cow farts... well... I'm gonna stop there 'cause I don't want you to hate me when you find out I laughed. At first. Then I was really upset because it was awful. I'm not heartless, honest. I just have the mentality of an 11-year-old boy when it comes to the topic of farts. And poop. And intestinal gas. Pathetic, I know. But have you ever heard a cow fart? I have. It's funny, people. Disgusting but seriously funny.

Anyway, 'the country' smells. That's really all I wanted to say.

Moving on...

I got an award!! It came from the ever-so-lovely Michelle over at The Truth As I Know It. Thank you, Michelle! It made me happy, as awards are wont to do, and it cracked me up, too...

The blogger who receives The Zombie Chicken Award believes in the Tao of the Zombie Chicken... excellence, grace, and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least five other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by not choosing wisely or not choosing at all.

Now, while I'm loathe to risk the wrath of the zombie anythings, I implemented a personal rule about passing on awards a while ago and I only pass them on to one person at a time. It usually requires me to break the award rules but hey, I'm a rebel (and lazy). So, zombie chickens, come get me if you must (please don't), but this award goes to the one and only...

Blognut

I know she'll disagree but I think she's excellence, grace, and persistence personified and I'd brave a million zombie chickens to read her blog. OK, I'm totally lying. You guys know I have a death-fear of fowl, right? Zombie fowl would put me over the edge. But that doesn't take away from how fabulous she is. I've met some pretty amazing people here in Blogland but Blognut's extra-special. She's my other half (not in a spousal sort of way... she has one of those those already and I prefer to marry boys). We have a creepy amount of stuff in common, right down the 'rambing' part of our blog titles and the Blogger templates we chose (and we're both clearly too technically challenged to customize them like you bright people out there who have pretty, adorable, and classy blog backgrounds). We've even betrothed our talky 9-year-olds, so someday we'll be related! Whoo hoo! So, if you're not reading her stuff, do it. You'll love her like I do. But you can't have her, 'cause she's mine.

Moving on again... I got my swim team coaching assignment for the summer... I get to work with my little sinkers again. When Ryan started swimming last year (on the same team I swam on when I was in high school), I decided I wanted to help out, as I had to sit through practices and meets anyway. Because I'm not certified and because I have that whole 'mom' vibe going on, I got assigned to the littlest swimmers. They don't compete but the plan is to get them in the water and comfortable with team procedures, so when they're a little older, they're ready to go. My kids are between 4 and 6 years old and to-die-for cute (I did a post last summer that'll tell you just how cute... and pervy!) and I'm so excited to get them again this year. They call me 'Coach' but I mostly just keep them from drowning and give them loads of hugs and cheers... it's a pretty cool job, really (except for the part where my 44-year-old self has to be seen in my bathing suit every evening by, like, 100 people, along with the other coaches... who are all 20-something and have perfect 20-something bodies... sigh) and I feel privileged to be able to do it. You'll be hearing about my little guppies in the days to come...

Well, that's about it, I guess. And quite enough, eh? I hope you all have a great weekend! Mine will be relatively quiet, I think. I do have what will likely be my last non-date with the Republican tomorrow. He's being deployed to Iraq a couple of months early (which he's actually pretty excited about... go figure). I'll miss him but I guess I should spend some time thinking about why I've chosen to spend scarce social hours with someone (albeit a kind and generous someone) whose ideology is so far from mine it isn't funny (it's quite animus at times, actually, and not in that exciting, 'opposites attract' sort of way), rather than put myself out there (again) and meet someone with whom I might actually be able to develop a long-term real-dating relationship. I'm not sure I really want to get into that sort of analysis, though. Not without my therapist on retainer.

Anyway, have a good one!! Later, 'gators! xo

24 comments:

Michelle said...

FIRST!!!

Hi Diane,
I like to fart! It's fun. And I am a 10 year old boy laughing right now at the cow farts and smell!

HAPPY FRIDAY DEAR DIANE!!!

blognut said...

I was just going to type, "Damn it, Diane!" I knew you'd know what that meant.

You were right that I'd disagree, but I know better than to argue with someone who shares a brain with me. Thank you. And I love you right back, you know?

blognut said...

Oh, and that whole manure smell story... cracked me up! I'm definitely a little boy when it comes to farts. Hee Hee! Can't even say it without grinning!

mo.stoneskin said...

Blognut deserves it.

When I read 'bucolic' I actually read (in my mind) broccollic. Whch makes sense really, you country people eat a lot of broccoli right?

sherri said...

Like you, I feel sad for the loss of a family, but also giggled a bit at the way they had to go ( forgive me)

It sounds like a way I will probably leave this world.

I've always wondered about that...
Please God, don't let it be choking on food (Cause I tend to overeat) or die naked where a stranger has to try to rescue me, but sees my naked body (I realize Doctors, morticians and the like will see me in all my glory, but you know what I mean. I don't want to die of a heart attack, naked, in the bathtub (and create a visual for all).

Not that I have that out of the way, while I'm still alive, I enjoy hearing from you AND blognut daily.

You're both delightful.

Heather said...

Congrats on your zombie chicken award! That made me laugh. :)
And I can totally relate to the country stinking! When I first moved to Troy for college, I had NO idea what I was getting myself into. The first time I went out to Kevin's, I passed a chicken house and thought I would throw up. I could NOT believe people lived near that. It smelled toxic!
Then he bought the cows and I learned the glorious smell of cow crap the hot, south Alabama sun. Kind of sickening, really.
But at least the scenery is pretty right? As long as you don't look at the ground around the cows. :)

Anonymous said...

You spend scarce social hours with someone because, regardless of any sort of differences, you can't help who you like...and we all like spending time with people we like, regardless of differences.

So like, yeah

Stu Pidasso said...

Giving back to the commnity! This is what makes us smile in our sleep, but now I am going to have nightmares of zombie chickens and cow farts!! But it is worth it for the laughs.

That Baldy Fella said...

Farts are always funny. End of story.

P.S. Congrats on the award!

boneman (and his wild zinnia) said...

Your farraginous musings were an impressive lot, indeed. From the cows of the country to the conflict of the award (if I ever get a chance to make my special, homemade chicken for you, your attitude towards fowls migh change) and then to the opposites attract fear of the Republican.
Every bit as marvelous if I hadn't had my dictionary handy. (I use it for a mouse pad)

The first brought back memories of being in the army. Out of Viet Nam and home for Fall, back down to Bragg, N.C. and then an early out (they did that for vets, eh?) and on the way home, a chill in the air, but then, somewhere around West Virginia and Ohio, the pungent odor wafted into the car. I was travelling with three other guys, two discharged, one on leave, none ever very far from the city.
Oh dang, it was HOME!
I knew what it was as soon as i smelled it, and I was filled with a great comforting feeling.
The other three were gagging.
And that's what it reminds me of to this day.
Indiana. Cows. Home.

I already said about the chicken, and, if you want, will send the secret family recipe. It's also lovingly called 'lazy man's chicken feast' by yours truly, but, sometimes the term scares folks.
I dunno. Picky eaters, eh?

The Republican being such an opposite is something to be wary of.
N attracts S and once matched up, are near impossible to pull apart.
But, if it isn't a true match-up, well....it's painful. That's all.
Gotta go with your gut feelings on matters of the heart, gal. Good luck.
But, I'll tell you right off...if he's a lifer (career soldier) then there will always be the service between you.You used the word 'animus' and, as you were good enough to have the farraginousity (?) through this whole piece, it may very well be yourself telling you..."no"

Then again, what do I know? Twice divorced (what? Didn't I learn well enough the first time?) and last year made a whopping $378.
Whew! Good thing I chop wood around here and cook, else ol' Steve would have kicked me out years ago!

Michelle said...

I'm afraid I laughed too.
Death by cow fart...I could use some of that in a bottle for some tenants :)

xxx

Greenfingers said...

This did make me laugh Diane! I've got a cabbage field near me...do you know what that smells like? Jezuzzz!!

Annie K said...

Ok, that is a truly stinktackular way to go. Who knew?

And maybe you should head for the woods. Pine trees smell way better than cow farts. Trust me.

blueviolet@A Nut in a Nutshell said...

I've never really thought about cows farting and I'm not happy with the fact that I'm curious about how it sounds now. So thanks.

Heather, aka Jake's Mommy said...

I've heard a cow fart. I shall laugh with you.

A Woman Of No Importance said...

Ah, the Zombie Chicken Award - Just made for Blognut! And congrats, Diane, of course...

And as for betrothing your 9 year olds - I hear arranged marriages can be very successful, and yet the thought of you two ganging up on those kids, as in-laws (or out-laws, in Bloggus's case) for the rest of your lives, is a tad scary... And wonderful. Scary-wonderful, and magical - I'm sending Grizz over as older chaperone - Okay? Love, Fhi x

Coachdad said...

You got an award? You have everyone fooled. You are really not that good...

Jenners said...

Farting is always worth a laugh... and I don't think less of you ... dying by cow shit/gas is a pretty funny way to go. Tragic but ... OK, I'm done typing now.

That sucks that the Republican is leaving soon. I hope he comes back safely.

And I love that you are little kid swim coach! I think that would be fun... or stressful depending on how the kids react!

Enjoy the sunshine!

Ronda's Rants said...

Tis the season for that smell... I remember...it is dreadful!
I saw a good movie that I think you would like...
State of Play
Very good! :)

Paul Maurice Martin said...

Well then, I'm glad that at least dog methane isn't as lethal as it feels.

She said...

I just HAD to come over here and meet you tonight! So, hi there! I'm She as in Shelia (yep. my mom spelled it wrong, and I got tired of telling people how to pronounce it so I just shortened it! ;-) Already TMI and we just met!

What we have in common is a LOVE AND ADORATION of the sensational and amazing Blognut, and if you are the other half of her brain, then I'm sure I'll love you, too, if that's okay with you! ;-)

Oh and I grew up with that SMELL you speak of so I got the hell out of dodge and moved to LA.

Death by cow farts, well, that's just all the more tragic!

♥ Braja said...

Yay! A post on country and manure smells...

Well, hell, the cows...THE COWS. Bewdiful :)

And yay to Blognut...we love her. Good choice my bloggy sister ;)
xxx

Helene (the Artist Formerly Known as Kate) said...

Farts are not funny! ICK! lol

Congrats on your award! lol

Hope you are having a great weekend!

Sam_I_am said...

I was just thinking the other day that I haven't seen an awards ceremony in awhile.

Do you know what kids are doing to get high these days? Putting poo in a pop bottle and a balloon over the neck. Then they are sitting it in the sun and the methane fills the balloon. After the balloon blows up, they suck the air out of the ballon. yum, eh?