Driving Conversations & Hemp Farms

The hemp comments from the commentors in my last post has to do with a dinner conversation we had on Tuesday night at our house. I was saying how on these long drives up to see my parents in Paradise, CA which is above Chico if you are familiar with California. If you are not, it's way the crap up there in the mountains.

On the way we drive past farm, after farm, after farm. I wondered one drive, if I was a farmer, what would I grow? After much discussion my husband and I decided we would be bamboo farmers or hemp farmers. Why? Because we would totally want to grow something sustainable and useful. Besides, if we had bamboo, I want to try and fly around in the bamboo like "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". My Grandpa has an amazing green thumb, he is the plant whisperer, and I always wondered if somehow I was genetically encoded with this DNA. By the array of dead plants around my house, I would say no. I would need some practice.

Now if I was a farmer I would totally want to get into it. Overalls, long braids, funny hats, and brightly colored shoes. I know real farmers don't dress that way, but I would be my own version rural chic.

If you were a farmer, what would you grow?

I did it again!

It is really hard to find good help these days. And by good help I mean a reliable tote bag. Not sure what made this one blow out this morning. Was it the addition of the box of tea bags? Because I am having trouble seeing how something that weighs NOTHING, would make my bag up and quit on me. Because that was the only additional item that I threw into by bag this morning and the straps disintegrated on the way down the stairs. Luckily I caught it in time before the contents of my life were strewn everywhere. Another one failed under the pressure and apparently the weight of me.

So do I head to TJ Maxx again and pick up another $20 special knowing that I will crush it in a matter of months? Or do I invest in something a little bit more sturdy? You know something with some grit and titanium handles.

Attributes that my new bag must have:
-Must be black. I work at a bank and black is always in style at a bank. Besides which, black is most often my color of choice, because it goes with the rest of my closet, which is black. Takes the thinking out of getting ready in the morning.

-Must be able to tote around 100 lbs at least. I have a lot of important stuff that I need to carry around. Like plastic frogs in scuba gear, copious amounts of paperwork, perfume, tampons, a book, whatever toy my son has slipped into my bag for safe keeping, various medications, spare change, and lunch. Must also be able to accommodate sons lunch box and art work from the day.

-New bag must be okay with being thrown down, swung over the front seat in a hurry, banged on the elevator, kicked, pulled, and stepped on. And must do it with a smile.

-Must maintains it's looks while being thrown, banged, kicked, pulled and stepped on.

-If new bag should feel the need to quit it's duties, then I need two weeks to thirty days notice. Quitting on the fly is so unprofessional, especially for a professional woman's bag. I don't claim to be a professional, I just have a professional bag as part of my camouflage.

You did what? To a Naked Moll Rat?

Every now and then when I scan the news a story make me a little uncomfortable. Like this on Yahoo news about a Naked Moll Rat that is resistant to pain.

First of all, where do you even find Naked Moll Rat? So they find this poor naked, cold blooded creature and then what do they decided to do with it? They decide to determine it's pain levels. Doesn't this poor creature have enough problems?

They took him out of his "oxygen starved burrow" in East Africa and threw acid on him. They are hailing this as a big break through for blocking pain in humans.

I'm just saying that is not cool to go after Naked Moll Rats, that's all.

Things that make me go @#$%!!!

Rolled out of bed at 4:30 AM this morning to get child out of bed who was crying. The reason child was awake was because I apparently did something to his soccer ball, ergo nightmare. Whatever! Child got in bed with us, sleep half-way resumed. Got up and got me and child ready to go for the day. Made lunch and all that crap.

Creeping down 101 this morning and cell phone rings.

AVS: Hello?
Mr. Von Snarky: Did you pack Drew's lunch?
AVS: Yes...why?
Mr. Von Snarky: I looked everywhere and I can't find it.

I look over into my book bad and @#$!!! There is Drew's lunch.

AVS: @#$%!!!, @#$%!!! @#$%!!!
Mr. Von Snarky: It's okay. Can you turn around?

Can I turn around? I can't even go forward at this point the traffic is so bad.

AVS: @#$%!! @#$%!!! I can't believe I took his lunch with me. I will have to get to work and then run it to him at lunch. @#$%!!! @#$%!!! I can't believe I did this!

Mr. Von Snarky was kind enough to make him another lunch so that I didn't have to run it back. It irritates me that I do this. I get everything ready so everyone will have a smooth morning, and then I screw it all up by not paying attention.

I'm just full of expletives this week. I am hoping to sleep this weekend.

You have a good weekend!

Oh Canada!

One thing you should know about me is that I have never left the country. When we were in San Diego for vacation this past summer Mr. Von Snarky graciously offered to drive me to Tijuana, Mexico. Being shoved across across the border in a hurry was not my idea of having an international experience. We live in California, I have extensively experienced Mexican culture. I love their food, I can get into their music, I love their strength and determination. So going to Mexico does not seem foreign to me.

I have been aching to travel for a very long time. I can't wait to do it. I want to experience lots of different things. Mr. Von Snarky wants us to audition for The Amazing Race. I don't want to rush around the world, I want to see it, smell it, taste it, and revel in it. I want to hear the little stories and backgrounds. I want to wander around the Louvre for a few days. He keeps trying to cheap out on me with traveling. His version of seeing the world is on a beach, warm beach. I think he would be happy if we only went to Hawaii every year. Don't get me wrong, I love the beach, but I want to go to Ireland and see if I can find a Leprechaun.

So this year we are attempting to go to Canada, Vancouver to be specific. However I do not want to fly into Seattle and just drive across the border. I am insisting on an international flight. I am insisting on a stamp in my passport. Before we have another baby, I want to experience another county. Just one, just for four days is fine. I just want to get whet my appetite just a bit. It would do me a world of good. In exchange for Canada, I am willing to go next year to the beach. Belize would be nice ;)

Fresh Start

Now that everyone is well and marital bliss has been restored, we decided to get the carpets cleaned on Monday. Drew was off from preschool, and I was working from home for MLK day. Now that clean carpets has anything to do with the fight for civil rights. But I was fighting grime.

So this is the first time that I have paid someone to clean our carpets. Normally in the past we have been broke and had to drag home a big monster cleaner from the grocery store that I am convinced does not clean your carpets, but grounds dirt further in. The carpets look so fresh and so clean. I had them do the couch too. Somehow I thought that when they cleaned the couch they would use some magical solution that would smell like a fresh meadow. No such luck. So I am going to have to douse it with Febreze, get my scent on and go from there. It bothers me that the smell never sticks when I use Febreze.

Until then, everyone kindly remove your shoes. I would like to savor the cleanliness for as long as possible.

Say what?

Everyone is on the mend in the Snarky house. However too much time under one roof and extended illness has worn on me and Mr. Von Snarky.
With so much going on we lost the ability to speak to one another in the same language. I was speaking Crabby Bitch and he was speaking Dickhead all weekend long. It was long weekend of misunderstandings, rude gestures and slammed doors. No matter how hard we tried we just couldn't communicate. It got so bad that I left the house looking forward to being jostled around Trader Joe's searching for food I know they ran out of. I was thinking of running away, for just an hour or so but I couldn't think of anywhere worthwile to go that didn't involve spending lots of money. So I came home determined that I would not speak to Dickhead, that I would keep Crabby Bitch to myself. Last night, Sunday night, we finally started to speak to each other in the same language.
It happens every few months or so, we turn into other people and battle it out til the death, pointing fingers and giving looks that would make fur fall off a cat. This is certainly not the example we want to be setting for our son. Poor thing is so not prepared for when this happens because we don't speak Crabby Bitch and Dickhead on a regular basis. It was so bad the three year old was trying to mediate. And in that moment I went from feeling like a Crabby Bitch to a big jerk.
Everything is returning to normal, we are beginning to see eye to eye again. Thank you for all the lovely get well messages.

Sick Central

(narrated in a 1950's radio voice)

Radio Announcer: "This just in from Sick Central. The enemy has crossed our lines of defense and has taken the youngest Von Snarky down again with its vicious stomach virus. Crews are rallying, stocked with Pedialyte and baby food, they are battling back the enemy.

But in an unexpected turn of events Mr. Von Snarky went down, I repeat, Mr. Von Snarky has been taken down. Sniped by ruthless head cold he has been rendered incapacitated. The soldiers are rallying with OJ and Emergen C.

Now we go to Ava Von Snarky, General in Command and Laundry Lady, who is behind enemy lines."

Radio Announcer: "AvaVon Snarky, can you tell me what it is like there on the ground?"
Ava Von Snarky: "It's horrible, there is puke and snot every where"
Radio Announcer: "Any idea when you will have a leg up on the enemy?"
Ava Von Snarky: "I'm trying, but they are fierce and ruthless, all my attempts at healing have been thwarted. Oh no! I have to go! Incoming!"

Radio Announcer: "It sounds like our brave Ava Von Snarky was attacked again. Let's hope her trusty washing machine with the Heavily Soiled setting stands up to the challenge. God's speed Ava Von Snarky! Until next time!"

Apparently it was a Great Party

I wouldn't know because I spent the entire surprise party that I was throwing for my cousin in my bed sick with a stomach virus. The three year old culprit who had given it to me was right next to me.

Drew had come down with the stomach virus on Thursday night, I stayed home with him on Friday and Saturday I woke up with it. Now it's Saturday morning at 9am and people are travelling from as far as three hours away to make this party for my cousin Mindy. I can pull the plug now if I want. Being the thespians that we are, my husband and I discussed it and the show must go on. Something always happens on my cousins birthday, last year her Grandmother died on her birthday. This year we felt like we couldn't cancel it. So Mr. Von Snarky pulled off the whole party while Drew and I lay wallowing in bed.

For Mindy's party we decided to do a reverse surprise party. She arrived first for what she thought was a regular dinner with us, then the doorbell rang and we made her get it. She was utterly confused. She was ready to turn around and walk out when she saw how sick I was and that I needed to rest. We convinced her to stay. So the doorbell kept ringing and every time she opened the door, she got a surprise. From what I was told, it was a great party, my cousin was on cloud nine, all the while I was hugging my toilet and whimpering on the bathroom floor. But it wasn't about me, so I was more than happy for them to have a party without me. They don't need me to have a good time. I was perfectly content to hide in my bedroom with my son and watch HGTV. I love HGTV.

Poor Mr. Von Snarky was exhausted and still had us sick people to deal with. Gotta love a man who can step up.

Throwing in the Towel

The eternal question: Why did I pick this bunch of jerks as a family? How did I end up with the most bitter, dysfunctional, vindictive, and flaky people as family on my Mom’s side? Why can’t we all get along? Because we are the Hutch family. Backstabbing, lies, broken-commitments, crazy behavior and lame excuses are the order of the day.

The only bright spot is my cousin Mindy. Even though our mothers are sisters and they are having an epic feud at the moment, we remain loyal to one thing, each other. We both seemed to have picked up our Mom’s out of the crazy bargain bin. The crazier they are, the cheaper the price. We always seem to have to fend off the people in our lives that should have protected us the most. So Mindy and I have banded together. Our rules are that we are always honest, no attitude, open communication and respect. We also always take care of each other and we know no matter what, we can count on each other. I would give her a kidney. So this week was Mindy’s 30th birthday and me and her boyfriend are throwing her a surprise party. Her mother was scheduled to come and bring dessert. As always my aunt called me today to tell me she wasn’t coming. Medical emergency, my uncle has intestinal blockage. The nice part of me is concerned and hopes my uncle is okay. The cynical side of me is taking note that this is the 5th time they have cancelled on plans. This is also the 5th time they have pleaded the medical excuse. They are also supposed to come down next weekend for my nephew’s 13th birthday party.

Mindy’s mom has ALWAYS bailed on her, so much so that we are now taking wagers on whether she will be there next weekend or not. I am placing all my money that she will be there next weekend. See Mindy’s mom (my aunt) always shows up for other people. She never shows up for Mindy. My aunt has always treated my sister better than her own daughter. It makes me so angry and hurt for Mindy. I can almost see the logic in my Aunt’s head. Mindy will forgive her, and she only feels like making the drive into town once. So here my aunt calls me yeat again to cancel and then she offers me money for the deserts that she was going to make. It’s not about the money, I could care less. It’s about showing up for her daughter who is the sweetest person on the planet.

This on top of everything else, there was a huge feud between everyone right before Thanksgiving and no one is talking to each other, except Mindy and I. Our family is so dysfunctional that it seems not even worth calling them family anymore. So much strife and hurt makes me wonder that the point is. Do I really want my son getting to know these people? Do I invite them to his next birthday party knowing all of them will call and cancel giving me some lame (cough, cough) explanation? But here is the real truth of the situation is we just don’t like each other and we hate that we are related to one another. Why can’t we be honest about our situation? Can’t we just admit our hatred, raise the white flag, and disband? Why do we keep trying to pretend that we are family when we clearly are not? How do I teach my son the meaning of family? Thank God I have a good relationship with my Dad and step-mom. At least I have them to turn to.

I think Mindy and I should link arms, ditch the rest of the Hutch’s, stroll into the sunrise and start new.

Snarky Moment

The snarkiness struck me in the grocery store the other day. In the check out line was the new Woman's Day and at the bottom the title of one of their article was "A New Way to Walk Off Weight". I couldn't help but think, is there a new way to walk that I am not aware of? Are we changing from one foot in front of the other? Doesn't weight just come off when you put one foot in front of the other a lot and frequently? Just checking! They could have revolutionized walking and I didn't know it. I peeked at the article because I was afraid I was missing something critical and it turns out if you carry poles while you walk it takes off more weight. Are you kidding me people? (snarky giggle)

Priceless Conversation

I was sitting on the couch and Drew was playing on the floor. All of a sudden he said, "Mom, you made me real mad when I pooed yesterday". My three year old said it so matter of fact. I couldn't believe we were having a frank conversation about poo and feelings. Stifling my laughter and composing a somewhat serious tone I replied, "What did I do that made you so mad?". Drew said, "when I pooed". He wasn't upset at all, just laying the facts out for me. Confused about exactly what about me and poo upset him I pressed further. "Was it because I made you go poo?" I asked. Then a deflated "yeah" came out of him. Wanting to resolve the situation I said, "Well I am sorry I made you mad when you pooed, but it is mommy's job to potty train you, but thank you for telling me your feelings". I hope him and I can always be this frank about life's important matters.