Unintended Consequences

Unintended Consequences

Back in the summer I was beyond frustrated to see that my very favorite spot in our neighborhood had been marked up with spray paint. It’s really a beautiful spot. Covered in wildflowers during the summer and right next to Indian Creek.

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The creek is full of frogs, snakes, and turtles. Just really a nice spot.

Someone had spray painted Trump 2016 on a tree. Look, you all know I didn’t vote for the man but I pinky promise the reason for being annoyed at the spray paint has nothing to do with him as a person. If it said Jane Austen 2016 I’d still be irritated at it.

Right after it happened someone tried to pick the bark off the T but I’m pretty sure Rump 2016 looks just as bad. I though about looking for bark colored spray paint but I was pretty sure that would be just as bad.
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Enter yarn bombing. I thought if I wrapped yarn around it it would look like one of those cool artsy things you see in big cities. Ya know, like this:

yarnbombing2It would look all Pinterest worthy and I could blog about it.

Um…Sadly, that is not how my attempt turned out.

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Nailed it, right? Or wrong. I thought about leaving it. I thought, well, surely that’s better than the cruddy graffiti. I actually walked home and tried to put it out of my mind.

Then I started thinking about the unintended consequences of the ill formed yarn bomb. I started imagining it unraveling and little Disney forest animals becoming entangled in it. Cute little foxes being dragged down by it. You know, like the stories you hear of stupid things humans do to fix things that actually make them worse.

The unintended consequence of the spray paint is that it irritates me and that’s not so bad. Better than sad little yarn covered animals dying on the greenway.

So, I cut it all down and now Rump 2016 once more reigns supreme.

Night Time at the Lake…

Night Time at the Lake…

Well, I think we can all agree that the $5 I spent on expired face masks at the Dollar General in Crane Hill, Alabama was money well spent.

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I mean, really, where else can you find something this entertaining.

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Multi generational fun right here, folks.

After all, we can’t play…uh, what is this? Scattergories? Taboo? 24-7. We need a break from all this competition. Dude! Haden is ready with that timer.

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Oh look! It’s Tucker. Wahhh!!!!! He decided to be super fancy and go to the University of Virginia for college. I’m 0-2 on nephews attending Auburn. Avery is at Troy but I’m holding out hope for Haden.

img_0082Blast. I still can’t see what that game was.

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Billy isn’t much on ye olde board games. It’s all kinds of vexing because I love them. We once played Monopoly with Billy’s best friend and his wife – the men got so mad at each other over the game that we ended up having to awkwardly leave. True Story.

 

I mean, SERIOUSLY, TRUE STORY. They had to like ‘have a talk about it’ afterward. Just don’t play board games with competitive people. It’s no bueno.

Hmm…maybe we should have done face masks instead of Monopoly? That clearly would have been a better option.

 

Happier Meals…

Happier Meals…

Billy and I have been entertaining the idea of getting a dog lately. Tossing around types and temperaments and asking ourselves whether we really need to bring another living thing into this house. For the love, isn’t seven humans, six fish and one hamster, enough? Stella just wants one SO bad. And dogs are supposed to be therapeutic, right?

Billy won’t let me get another Welsh Corgi – that’s what we had when we first got married. They are awesome dogs. Happy and clever but they shed a ton.

I like the miniature schnauzer. Doesn’t it look like it’s judging you? Like, it’s saying ‘I can NOT put up with your shenanigans, woman.’ I need it to keep me in line.
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Valentine’s Day saw us sitting in the McDonalds parking lot in Scottsboro, Alabama eating Happy Meals. We had a sitter but hadn’t gotten reservations anywhere so decided to travel up to Stevensville to watch the Varsity boys play in sub regionals for basketball. That may seem like a ridiculous thing for people that have a sitter to do but it gave us over two hours in the car alone without kids which was actually pretty fantastic.

Plus, I just knew that if we stayed in town we’d eat dinner and then send a thousand texts to the sitter asking ‘are the girls asleep yet?’ Then we’d promptly fall asleep watching Netflix until one of us woke the other up angrily for snoring too loud.┬áIt’s wild times around our house, I tell you. Wild times.

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Awww…look how handsome Billy is. We’ve also got the studious ‘Doug Madison’ photobomb in the background. He’s a teacher at the kid’s high school. That man is teaching AP Statistics and five sections of Calculus. Doesn’t that sounds absolutely mathrifically horrifying. My brain hurts just hearing those words.

What didn’t hurt my brain was winning. Unfortunately, we lost Monday in the next round.

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We celebrated Damien’s birthday at Casa Blanca Sunday night. Thirteen looks pretty good on him, doesn’t it?

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Speaking of shenanigans Gracie was loving all the singing that accompanied the waiters bringing out Damien’s birthday dessert.

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I’m not a huge Casa Blanca fan but I guess it’s better than Happy Meals in flipping Scottsboro.

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“You’re a grown up. Stop eating Happy Meals.”

I told y’all that dog was judgmental.