Can I take a serious moment here?

 

 

 

 

It’s a rarity, I know… but bear with me.

With all the attention that jerkweed weather reporter pretending to be caught in gale force winds received, it seems the blogosphere has forgotten that people are still suffering the effects of Hurricane Florence, and it’s far from funny.

We lived in Jacksonville, North Carolina for 17 years and rode out some terrible storms. They’re frightening, life changing and nothing to take lightly. We have a lot friends still in the area and thankfully they all evacuated, but I’ve been getting texts and picture updates from some of them and I wanted to share ….

This is I-40…

 

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Most of our friends can’t get back into town.

Because this is what happens when you try to drive through high water.

 

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In all the years we lived there, we never saw flooding like this.

 

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The entire town is literally under water.

 

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Thank God for the Marines..

 

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A neighbor took this picture of my girlfriend’s house.

 

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And the courthouse where she works.

 

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I hear Wilmington is completely cut off as well.

 

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There’s no power, no water, no gas and some of the cell towers have gone down.

 

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Now I like a good laugh as much as the next person, probably more. So yes, laugh at the idiot reporter trying to make a name for himself.

But don’t yell fake news at me. This is real for a lot of people we love, and that nimrod shouldn’t be the only part of the story we’re talking about.

 

 

Okay, I know.

 

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A little chicken history.

 

You may have noticed I have a glamour chicken as my avatar.  (Yes, there is such a thing.  We’re gorgeous and we know it )  But in case you wondered why….

It started back in 2010 when our new farming neighbors got a few chickens. I’d never spent much time around that particular bird, I mean come on… I’m originally from New Jersey. The only chicken I knew came in a bucket with biscuits and slaw.

 

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But they looked so cute pecking around the yard that I started visiting them, and feeding them, and photographing them and generally making feathered friends. So when our neighbors wanted to go out of town for Christmas that year? Of course I opened my big fat mouth and said, Sure! We’ll take care of them.

Did I mention it was Christmas time?

In Maine…?

 

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I had to drive down the road, then down their driveway and then down an ever narrowing path to find them. In the snow. In 12 degree temperatures.

 

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Their coop was actually a little house, but damn.

 

 

Warm and cozy it wasn’t.

 

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There were bags of feed and corn in the building, but no water so I had to lug gallons twice a day.

 

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And look up.

 

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(Always remember to look up if you don’t want a head full of chicken poo.)

I enjoyed the temporary chicken duty and would pull up a hay bale and sit happily with the little cluckers for a spell every morning and late afternoon…  thinking,  I want chickens of our own! They’re so cute!

 

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And fun to watch!”

 

 

But remember I said “we” would take care of them?

 

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The “we” kicked in when December brought a snow storm that made driving down their unplowed road and path impossible. And oh yeah, the wind chills were 17 below.

 

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That’s when the “we” turned into my husband…. with the “me” part taking pictures from our kitchen window.

He did it, but he wasn’t happy. And he let me know how unhappy every time I mentioned getting chickens of our own from then on. That’s what comes from being married so long… they know you too well. Yours truly isn’t going outside in a 17 below wind chill for anyone… cute, feathered or otherwise. So while chicken duty continued whenever our neighbors went out of town, my dream of a backyard coop died that day.

But back to the avatar explanation – in the Multiply days, I would blog chicken pictures.

 

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And riveting chicken videos like this:

 

 

And somehow, it just became a thing.

I was the crazy chickenless chicken lady.  People sent me chicken memes, chicken poems, chicken calendars, chicken hats, chicken socks….

 

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Chicken purses….

 

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And chicken shoes.  (Admit it, you want a pair.)

If it was chicken related, I got it.

Chicken duty evolved and expanded over the years….. the few birds became a flock, and the flock became a swarm and then it got out of hand.

But that’s for another blog.

 

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The blogging life.

 

I had lunch with a friend the other day and we were in the middle of an epic catch up session when I mentioned I’d found a new blog site and was really enjoying it.

Me –  “It’s a large platform with lots of amazing writers.”

Her –  “Blogging?  Yeah… I’ve never understood the appeal.”

Me –

       

 

Her –  “It seems so totally self absorbed. I mean, what do you blog about?”

Me –   *sputtering*  *turning red*

“Life!”

( I may have screamed. I’m not sure.)

But it got me thinking, what do I blog about? Right now, it’s whatever nonsense is floating around in my head and needs to get out. That long fuzz covered blue thingy in the back of the fridge that may or may not have started life as a pickle? Sure! The old lady at Goodwill who had a vibrator in her cart because she thought it was a portable hand blender? Absolutely! But it wasn’t always that way.

No… back in the early days of Yahoo 360 and Multiply, it was personal.  I ranted about family, and relationships, and mother in laws from Hell. I had a small community of close friends who knew (almost) everything that was happening in my life. And then I got burned. I was posting about a particularly horrid SIL… okay, I may have called her  a hag. But she was. And still is. And crikey… she wasn’t supposed to be reading it! But she did and ….

 

 

Yeah, the proverbial excrement hit the rotating blade.

See…. I’ve always kept my blogging life and real life separate. The husband is an uber-private person and hates it if I tell my best friend anything… no less people on line that we’ve never actually met. So what did the hag do? She found my online blog presence, read every single post I’d ever made and left a seriously hateful comment on the last one. (At 3:30 in the morning no less. Clearly it was a riveting read.) And no… we haven’t spoken since. That was 8 years ago.

So I shut it down. No more public access, no more personal details.

And then it became a “thing” in our marriage. You know,  the “things”.  Those topics that no matter how many years you spend together, they’ll always cause friction. I mean geesh, I wasn’t spilling racy secrets from the bedroom….. (and I won’t no matter how much you beg me.  You’re welcome.) …. I was joking about the crap he accumulates in the cellar! Where’s the harm in that? But I got tired of the snide, “Oh, I suppose you’re going to blog about that now” comments every time something happened, so after my first site died a slow death?  I told him I was done blogging.

But I wasn’t.

So yes…. you lot are my guilty, secret pleasure. (How pathetic is that? Nothing dark and twisted, just you. Sigh…)

 

 

There, I said it.

I blog on the down low. And I keep it light… because for me, it’s always been about entertainment. I know there are a lot of inspirational blogs about overcoming hardships, heartfelt blogs about love and loss, fashion blogs, cooking blogs, gardening blogs…. and I enjoy them all. Even the occasional blog about running. (Do you have any idea how many of them there are? What’s wrong with people? Don’t they own comfortable chairs…?)  I mean… I’m diverse damn it! I can read about other people running even if personally I feel like  –

 

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That’s the wonderful thing about blogging! It’s unique to each and every person who does it…. and if you’re lucky enough to find bloggers of similar interests and styles?  Who laugh with you.. and occasionally at you?

You’ve found your tribe.

For me, they’re usually snarky, smart mouthed, fringe dwellers who are just a little bit bent. Because… well, I’ve been told I’m a little hard to take.

 

 

Shocking, I know.

But my husband has always felt the need to warn his co workers about me before we meet, so there must be something to it. I may look sweet, but my mouth does tend to get me in trouble when it gets going. And if I’m feeling comfortable enough around you to let the crazy out?

 

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You’re my people.

😎

Newbie question.

 

So the fact that WordPress thinks I’m trash and my comments need to be thrown into the Spam folder den of iniquity got me thinking….

 

 

How do they determine what’s Spam? Do they filter through key words or volume of traffic like some blogging version of the NSA?

 

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And why do I have numerous followers who clearly want nothing to do with me other than to hawk their direct marketing schemes? I understand people make money on their pages here, and that’s great. But if someone like bombs 18 of my posts in 18 seconds just to get me to check out their business site…

What’s up with that?

 

 

I’ve never been one of those people who determines their worth by how many followers, friends or contacts are on their list. My ego isn’t that fragile, and I guess I was wondering if y’all keep those type of bloggers…. or remove them from your followers list?

Because I already get enough phone calls from Rachel at Card Holder Services in real life, I don’t need it here.

 

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My toilet should not smell like coconuts.

 

Now before all you coconut lovers start espousing the 3,567 health benefits of coconut oil….

 

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Let me explain. I love me some coconut….

I love the pie.

 

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I love the alcohol.

 

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I love the thought of chillin’ on a tropical beach…

 

 

I mean hell, who doesn’t?

 

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But on the throne? I don’t need to be thinking about….

 

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Which is where my mind went after I purchased this:

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See the coconuts?

Well, I didn’t. Which is another reason why I need to sling my readers around my neck when I shop.

Clean toilets should not smell like coconut.

Period. End of discussion.

I’m there to take care of business, not daydream about suntan lotion and lounging by the pool….

 

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Although with my luck, it would end up like…

 

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And let’s not forget about the dangers.

Coconuts can be lethal!

 

 

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The last thing I want to think about on the toilet is a random coconut falling on my head and dying with my drawers around my ankles.

So stop with the tropical fragrances Clorox, and go back to that eye watering, stomach churning chemical smell we all know and hate.

Give a girl a break.

Is Wordpress hangry?

 

And if not…. why does it keep eating my comments?

So I’m happily cruising blogs, leaving killer comments, thinking…

“Ya, I really slayed that one.”

Only to go back a while later   wondering why no one has complimented me on my razor sharp witcursing the blog owner for ignoring me ,  to read other comments and find that mine has disappeared.

 

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So, I leave the same killer comment again.

Making sure it stuck this time…

 

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Sorry, my mind went there.

And if I check a third time? Yeah… the comment is still A.W.O.L.

 

 

There are only 3 possible explanations.

  1.   The blog owner doesn’t think I’m clever and deleted it. (No, that can’t be it.  I’m delightful, damn it!)
  2.   I was dreaming and/or ghost typing in my sleep.  (Possible, but not likely. Although I did sleep walk as a child and apparently watched an entire Vincent Price movie without waking up… which is really the only way to enjoy The Tingler.)

Yes, that’s a real movie.

Don’t believe me?

 

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You can thank me for the nightmares later.

And finally,  reason #3.  WordPress is hangry…. or just plain screwing with the newbie.

Which is the reason I’m leaning toward because… every once in a while?  My comment will post 4 times making me look desperate for attention. (Which I’m not, really…. no matter how many times I hang out my window and yell, “Hey sailor!”)

So, WordPress?

Cut it out.

The newbie is not amused.

I’m not a happy camper.

 

(Okay, technically I’m never a happy camper… my idea of roughing it is 200 thread count sheets and no mint on my pillow. )

 

 

But this morning….. I really wasn’t happy.

You see yesterday, the chimney repair guy came and finished the replacement job.

 

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I can’t say I’m in love with the way it looks…

 

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But as long as the leaking stops and my ceiling doesn’t look like a leopard print throw rug again, I can live with it.

 

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So imagine how pleased I was to wake up this morning to the sound of rain….

And this :

 

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A big old stain spreading across our ceiling.

 

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And water pissing down the chimney.

 

 

Mind you, we’ve already paid this guy $850 towards the total bill.

 

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Yes.  The $850 was to start….

He told us he wanted to wait for the first rain shower to make sure everything was okay before we paid him the rest.

Well, it’s definitely not okay.

And I’ve calmly left 3 messages on his answering machine in a polite and business like manner.

 

 

 

To be continued….