Mission Impossible OR As I Like to ask… Can We Shoot Him?

I bet at least once in your life

You’ve heard a guy say this

When he’s gettin’ his giddyap

Ready to goddyout…


Am I right?

Well…hold onto your knickers ladies and gents ‘Cause the Pesky Puke we all know and love…Elf on the Shelf ?

Is a  FREAKIN’ TEENAGER this Christmas


So, when HE gets ready to slither and creep and hide and seek…his giddyap to goddyout goes like this…









R E P E A T…

SHIT – SHAVE – SWIG – SHARE  (eee gads!)





Oh…and by the way?

Have you met the other one?





Yeah…He’s the older and wiser one  😦



gonna be a looooong season

Just Write…Wright?

A familiar scenario.

3 a.m.

First coffee history.

Second half gone.

vaudeville villain

I have a fridge full of freshly cut up watermelon & pineapple; bowls of grapes, blueberries, and strawberries…and here I sit.  Snug as a bug with my coffee and fruit (disguised as the bowl of leftover Ghoul Goodies no thanks to the ever lurking Señor SnacKattacK…the shadowy shit!)


Apparently I’d transformed into a chainsaw of human proportions while I lounged on the couch after the delish Cuban meal I’d prepared for hubby’s birthday, for which he thanked me by shaking my ass awake (for my own safety naturally) sometime around 1 a.m. to go to bed.

Humph…you’d think after 35 years he’d know enough to let a sleeping chainsaw lie!
No matter the length of the doze…once she’s reached the critical brum – brum – brum – brrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Leave her alone!
Let her saw the damned wood!
Let her clear the freakin’ forest!
‘Cause…You wake her?
She. Is. Done!!!

For someone who hasn’t posted much in the last year, it’s surprising how much blogging has been on my mind lately.  Do I miss it?  Sure.  Is it the writing I miss or the connections.  Both.  In equal measure.

So I suppose that’s why, at the now current hour of 4 a.m., I’m scribbling nonsense on a white screen, in a dark room, to restless readers, and faithful friends…in an attempt to re-ignite the engine.

Not the chainsaw one  (no matter how much I’d like to sleep) but the writing one.

The only way back, as I see it, is to do it…and keep doing it…until the engine purrs once more.

Or ’til the gas runs out.

Then I’ll get more gas.


The more I wread what writers write – the more I wrealize why writers write – when writers write – while writing what’s wright – or writing what’s wrong – writing is writing-that’s wright – write?




When to be a parent?

When to be a friend?

When to speak the truth you feel?

When an ear to lend?

When do Moms and Dads step in?

When Jack or Jill are hurting?

When do Moms and Dads bow out?

When they’d rather you were averting

When is it okay to speak?

When they’re obviously in pain?

When it reaches the point of no return?

When there’s nothing left to gain?

When Moms and Dads knew what to do

When hugs & kisses soothed

When Jill or Jack were little ones

When life’s wrinkles could be smoothed

When two in love be-came one

When the sun set on that day

When is it the time to speak your heart?

When all you’ve done is pray

When confusion, hurt, and anger come

When sorry just won’t do

When their hearts hurt you know it well

When your heart breaks in two

When to be a parent?

When to be a friend?

When to learn it’s not your concern?

When they tell you so

That’s When


The Struggle Eternal

With love from Mom…




You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

~ C. S. Lewis



If you harbor bitterness happiness will dock elsewhere


Blame destroys your future…your future begins when you own your past
day one
Sometimes, all we need is one thing to create or welcome change.


Picture of me 1 - Copy
 The second half is up to you. ♥♥I ought to know



My Friend, Jane

Read this inspriational woman’s words and see into the heart that inspires me. May it inspire you…to knock on doors.

stuff i tell my sister

My friend Jane passed away Saturday evening. She was 91. Her desire was to have her body donated to science. She was hopeful that if they studied an “old” body, maybe they could learn how to help older people lead a healthier and richer life.
There will be no service. No hearse for family and friends to follow to a cemetery, no grave to place flowers. No sad hymns sung.
But I mourn for Jane. I weep for Jane. I will write words to honor the life that her family had no time for any longer.

We didn’t mean to be friends. I knocked on her door one day, while visiting at the nursing home, and she invited me into her room. She then proceeded to tell me that if I was going to talk to her, I’d have to speak up! So I did. ~Smile~ She was polite, yet…

View original post 491 more words

Move On Dot Argh

To say I was looking forward to another move, especially after the bone shattering experience with Two Thugs and a Truck, would be a GINORMOUS, BIG OL’, FAT, STRAIGHT-UP, BALD-FACED, FIB-A-ROONIE!

But, it is for the greater good and with that decision made, I put ’em on and pulled ’em up and got to work.  The biggest question at the time was, what to do first.

To preface…We are selling and Mom is selling and we are buying another one to live in, in perfect harmony.  Together.  Two 50 somethings and one 70 something.  A mother, daughter, son-in-law kinda thing.  A husband, wife, mother-in-law kinda thing.  Two peas in a pod and the pea the princess found in her mattress kinda thing.

Anyway, with two houses to sell, that meant two houses to pack and two houses to move. Timing is tricky because no one in their right mind would want to deal with the process of selling and moving both houses at once, much less, find a new one in the meantime.

So, we approached it simply…sell one, then the other and hopefully, by the time the other sold, we’d have found and purchased and closed on the new one.

Here’s how I planned it…(and yes, the Big Guy’s up there laughing His holy ham hocks off ‘cause this chick thinks she’s got things under control)

Sell ours, look at houses, pack my shit, lookie lookie lookie, hire a mover, look some more, move our stuff into storage, look at dumps (it’s inevitable), list Mom’s, look at shit-holes (again, you just can’t help it), close on our sale, keep on looking, move into Mom’s, look at more, find one, offer on new one, go under contract, sell Mom’s, pack Mom’s, hire a mover, close on new one, move our stuff out of storage and into new one, move Mom’s stuff into new one, close on Mom’s sale.  TA DA

Makes sense, right?
Sounds doable, don’t it?
Stick to the plan and all will be well. Right?  [Sounds like those ought to be someone’s famous last words]

Seriously, that is really the only logical way, and the only way I could see it all work, without fear that, at any given point, we’d be living in cars and frequenting the local gas station to pee!

But…this is how it has actually gone down (and yes, yes, you know the drill…I fucked up.)

Sold Ours

Listed Hers – I forgot my own plan so when our house went under contract, the very first thing I did was contact the realtor to get Mom’s house listed ASAP. That day, in fact.  I leap frogged right over packing my stuff, hiring a mover, getting it moved into storage, and ran smack into the ass-end of listing Mom’s house.

Packed Ours

Hired Movers (real ones)

Stored Ours

Closed on Ours

Moved into Hers

Sold – her house SOLD the day after we moved in!  Which means we no longer had the time we thought we did. We were now looking at a maximum of 45 days for EVERYTHING to be done. THREE houses packed up, moved out, and closed on.

Ours, hers, and a new one!

Now we are frantically looking, looking, looking because we have NO time!  {All I can think is ‘Okay people…pick a car.  Three of them, three of us’}

(They wanted to live there until April rent and obligation free. Excuse me while I go change my underwear…I think I pee’d myself laughing)

(The fact he didn’t want to address an HVAC unit tilting at a 30-degree angle may have had something to do with this one’s failure. Really dude?)

(Loved the house, a view to die for, but on further consideration, the driveway’s grade was so steep it woulda scared the last tooth outta Tommy ‘Toothless’ Trucker’s head, if he’d had any. So, yeah…NO)

(This was a hard one to let go ‘cause it was the perfect property for Little Miss Sadie, whose happiness is so much more important than that of her human companions…so yes, I honestly figured I could cram two houses worth of furniture into this one for her sake…but sanity prevailed and he withdrew the offer siting, and I quote “Sorry, but the wife is bat-shit” Ouch…that hurt (true though it is  🙂  )

Found The One!

Under Contract

Now, at this point, I am

Packing Hers

Have Hired movers

Will Close on New One 12/27

Will Move Ours out of Storage and into New One  12/28

Will Move Hers into New One  12/30

Will Close on Her Old One  1/04


OMFG…I need a nap. Or wine. Yeah, wine. But it’s only 9 a.m. Shit, I’ll have to settle for a nap. I’ll dream about wine. That’ll work. I’ll be back. I can’t think about this for one more second…cya soon

Six Months

Wow…though I am the sole author of this blog, even I am surprised that nearly 6 months have passed since my last post.

And what a 6 months it has been.

My last share was an update on our painter, IMA.  To put that puppy to bed, he did finally finish to my satisfaction and it only took him twenty-one days longer than he quoted. The fact that we missed our optimal window to list our home for sale is of no consequence now, but at that time, it was the sour pickle served with our shite sandwich.

During the paint-a-thon, we’d been working with a realtor who knew our market extremely well and who felt we’d have a buyer in the first two days once we were listed, provided….again, p r o v i d e d, we could get on the market before the end of June, as that was the end of the ‘optimal window’ for listing in our area, our house size, and our price range.  We were in the best school district, had a family size house, and our neighborhood was hot, hot, hot for sales.

Ahem…yeah, IMA didn’t finish until July 11th and odd as it may sound…those eleven days made all the difference. We listed that very day, had a heavily attended open house that weekend, and lo and behold….nothin.  We’d missed those potentials wanting to close prior to the start of the next school year, and the majority of those on-the-hunt then, were Boomers looking to downsize and first timers thinking they deserved perfection.  LOL, they’ll learn eventually.

I spent the next 6 weeks coming and going, making sure the house was always ‘show ready’, which meant Ms. Sadie’s hair all over the place, on a daily basis, was causing me stress!  It also meant that Mr’s lack of clothes hanging skill, inability to remember how to put a dish in the dishwasher, much less forgetting that people looking to buy a house don’t necessarily enjoy walking through a mine field of DOG CRAP in the back yard…was causing me stress!

We were averaging a showing a day!  Sometimes more.  Sometimes…with 15 minutes notice.  Sometimes…with zero notice, meaning the realtor calls and says “LEAVE”.  I kid you not.  True story.  The fact I told her I’d never say no may have gone to her head, but…I never did.  Say no.  Not once.

As it happened, that last one?  The phone call to LEAVE?  Yeah, they were the ones.  They were the next boil on my arse.  The Buyers!  Oh, you didn’t think the next stage would be any better or go any smoother than the previous ones did you?  Hahahahaha….hello?  This is me we’re talking about!

Anyway…the buyers.  Sigh….such a nice young couple.  Oh wait, that was a dream I had once.  They were not nice, not young, and they have a teenager and an adolescent. But…they WERE first time home buyers.  Oh, and he is a car salesman guy.  Eeek, wish I’d known that upfront.  He fancied himself a master negotiator and refused to give an inch ’cause he knew what he was doing!  🙂

Since they were first timers, and he a salesman to boot, they expected everything to be exactly AS, WHEN, HOW, they wanted for the additional sum of $0.00  Plus, they wanted us to pay them to buy it ($9,000 in closing). If we were told once, we were told a thousand times…they are cash poor and credit rich, so it would just be better to give in and move on. Imagine their realtor saying that?  Yeah?  No…that was OUR realtor.

Besides the 9 large in closing assistance, they wanted my dining room table and chairs. And believe it or not, we negotiated price and we negotiated closing assistance, but he (and yes, it was him) refused to budge on the table and chairs.  In fact…when he didn’t get what he wanted for assistance, he insisted he get the hutch too!  Bastard.

Our realtor (in fact, both realtors I would imagine) was pulling her hair out.  She never once said the buyers were being unreasonable though…she always ‘suggested’ it was us and if we wanted to sell, then we’d deal.  WTF?  Who was she working for again?

We did finally come to an agreement, and I’m sure he thinks he pulled one over on us because we gave more than we wanted in closing and he did get the hutch in the end. However, it was a compromise.  He didn’t get as much as he wanted and we added the price of the hutch to the sales price, so we sold over asking and the completely ineffectual realtors each made 3% of that…gotta love it.

The next step was the inspection…HA…nothing says a newbie like a first-time buyer’s reaction to a home inspection!  You’d have thought the house was condemned!  LOL, still makes me chuckle.  But…we agreed to a couple small items (changed a couple older smoke detectors for new ones) and did a couple piddly things outside and the rest was small, normal maintenance stuff that this new home owner will just have to learn to take care of on his own.  Renter no more = do your own shit.  No better time to begin than now.

Next….the move.  Well, the first one…I’ll leave it there and pick it up next time.

Hey…was so good to see you all and if I’m not back in time…(though I hope so)



An Update…I think

Is there such a word as downdate?

How about upsidedowndate?

Yeah, that’s better

Whichever it is…I have one

Here are the latest photos of my living room, dining room, kitchen…


Look familiar?


IMA called off on Saturday (flat tire)

IMA’s Dad wrote me on Monday (mother needed transportation)

It’s 10 am Tuesday…HESA not here yet

IMA pissed

There…that’s my upsidedowndate?



A Day For Fathers

Today is Father’s Day

I wish my husband Happy Father’s Day, proud of the men I am so thankful for, that he helped our sons become.

I wish my oldest son Happy Father’s Day, proud of the father he is to his own sons who will one day be Fathers in their own right.

I wish my brothers Happy Father’s Day, expressing my love and pride in the sons and daughters they have all helped raise into wonderful human beings.

But, they are not my Father.

They are Fathers to others.

I want my own Father.

I miss my Father.

I cry for him when no one is looking.

I long for stolen moments with him, when no one is paying attention.

I wish for one more Father’s Day with him.

I wish for one more moment with him.

One more dirt road.

One more fishing trip.

One more lesson on how to do it right the first time

“Measure twice, cut once”

I wish for one more chance to tell him I love him.

I wish for one more chance to tell him I need him.

I wish for one more chance…

to show him I am…

…his daughter.

But I’m out of chances.

My only option is to say, here and now, to the ghost of the most important man in my life…

I love you Dad and I wish you were here.

But the bittersweet of Father’s Day is tempered with the happy thoughts and wishes of birth…for my Mother.

Today she turns 77.

She’s seen a lot, been through a lot, has a lot to be proud of, and thankful for…especially proving that you are never too old to take a chance.

I am so proud of the woman she is.  Mother, Grandmother, Great Grandmother…


Happy Birthday Mom

The day is yours, the love is yours…

We are yours….Always

Should We Stay or Should We Go🎶🎶🎶

Okay.  So, I know it’s been a day or two since my last post 😉 and I wasn’t actually planning a post today ‘cuz it’s crazy busy for us right now, but…who the hell could resist?

Not I.

You all know how much I like a good ‘saga’  😂 😭 😓

Especially about cars.  Or moving.  Or houses.  Or other Shit-N-Stuff.


So…after all the blood, sweat, and tears, we shed before, during, and after, moving into our current home, we are considering selling.

Yup…2 years, 6 months in, picking up and moving again is actually being considered.

Nutz! 😵   Looney!  😱   Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs! 🐒


Two reasons really.

The first, to be closer to my recently transplanted Mom, who is, apparently, one of those lucky people I’ve heard about when it comes to adventures in moving.  Her pack and move went smoothly.  Her house behaved when she moved in and didn’t reach out and break her leg or rain down through her light fixtures from the floor above.

Remember my crying lights?

She has made a beautiful home for herself…and is quite content to remain where she is.  But, we are finding that even a mere 20 minute/10 mile distance, is 15 minutes too far!

{Hmmm, note to self…A Drive Too Far…Book?  Movie?  Copyright infringement?  Carry on self…}

The second, as important as the first, is because our beautiful Ms. Sadie needs a place to safely run and play in her own backyard, and we cannot give that to her.


Because we cannot fence it in 😲


Bureaucratic Bullshit 🚧

We have a gorgeous back yard…

Northfield in the fall

What…don’t believe that’s mine?

What—everrrrrrrrrrrr  👀

Forget the mountains then.

Oh for Pete’s sake…take out the barn if it bothers ya!

Okay Okay (ya picky bitches), take out the fence, the trees, the other barn, and the rolling field in the background and you’ve got my yard.


Anyhoo….because Virginia’s disclosure laws are a  j o k e, not one of the half dozen professionals involved in buying real estate, not to mention the previous owner, felt it necessary to inform us that this lot is one of the highest impacted lots in the neighborhood, rendering our little slice of Eden…all but USELESS.


There is a 60′ (yes, that is SIXTY) gas company easement from the back of the property towards the house and runs the entire width of the tad over a 1/3 acre lot.  From our way of thinking, that should have been mentioned by SOMEONE in the 2 month buying/closing process yeah?


Add to that 60′ another 20′ for the build line which runs from the structure towards the back of the yard, making the total depth/width of what we cannot add to, plant on, or change in a way that would impede….a whopping 80′.

EIGHTY #$#$%#$ FEET  😖 😭 😕

Even though the gas company could work with us on a fee based waiver, they won’t.

But Wait!  There’s More  (oh goody)

There are also easements from the county that cannot be waivered.

One is a 16′ drainage easement, running back to front, the entire length of the property, but it’s on the side property line, so we didn’t give that one much thought.  At the time.  Not until we had to.  And we had to when we wanted to put a storage shed out there.  On the side.  Away from the gas easement.  Ya know, close to the garage and stuff.

Ummmm….Not gonna happen  🚫

Then {and I chuckle here} there is that all too common, everybody else must have one…FLOOD DAM FAULT LINE!  OR FAULT DAM FLOOD LINE!  OR DAM FLOOD FAULT LINE!  OR SOME DAMNED LINE GOING DIAGONALLY THROUGH THE ENTIRE BACK YARD!!

You got one, right?  And you?  And you, and you?  And you over there?  Everybody?  ‘Cause I’m thinking it’s so damned prolific as to be down right common-place.  Like we all got grass so why point out the grass?  Ain’t that why I’ve never heard of this effin’ thing?  Ain’t it?

What the hell is happening?????????????  😱

The only friggin floods that I have ever heard of around here….were inside my damned house and that fault line didn’t help one daggone bit!!  (el squat-o)

Did I say this made me chuckle?

I lied  😫

Of course, we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think we’d get a decent enough return to buy another.  The market is good right now, the rates are still low, people may be looking to get into a place before the next school year….all good things right?

So I ask you…

🎶 Should we stay or should we go 🎶

(sorry, I can’t help singing it…lol)

Oh geez…after all that, I forgot to mention why I even began this post.  While we muse over the possibility of listing (we’re about 98% there to be honest), we figured we’d do what we always do in this situation…invest more blood, sweat, and tears, not to mention 💰, into getting our imperfect 🏠 perfect so the next 👸 of the newly perfected 🏰 won’t have to lift a friggin’ finger or spend an effn’ dime!

‘Cause that’s how we role…we Hernandezeseses (Hernadezi?)

We buy, we fix, we do……..and we move.  So we can then…buy old and broken, fix to new and pretty, sell to others who don’t have to do a damned thing…just so we can buy old and broken, fix to new and pretty….blah de blah de blah!

In that vein…
We have had the fireplace that hasn’t worked since the day after we moved in, fixed.
We had the Jacuzzi tub’s leaky-ass faucets that we haven’t touched since the first time we went to use it and didn’t because it leaked, repaired.
We’re giving our wood floors a facelift so they don’t offend the next matriarch with their little Sadie scratches.
We’re resurfacing our pinkish, post-form, laminate countertops that somehow were good enough for me, but certainly will put off today’s savvy buyers looking for the trendier granite because ‘It’s so shiiiiny’.

And I’ve saved the best for last…

and the hardest for me…

the die-hard DIY’er:

Hiring someone to do what I do, and do well is tough. But time, old shoulders, bad, up close & personal, eyesight, added to my increased lack o’ patience, has dictated that this time around…we must bite the proverbial and hire a pro.

You all know me and my history with hiring professionals.

Though you know I pride myself in doing my due diligence, you also know it has gotten my leg broken, my house flooded, my toothbrush packed with the toilet brush, and my car dying at 70 MPH on Interstate 91 in New Haven.

Shall we agree that you know this Wonder Woman of Wacky Workmen?

Okay then…we’re off.

We hired a ‘Pro” to paint the interior of our 4BR, 3BA home, top to bottom, head to toe, and everything in between.  The references were stellar. The estimate reasonable. The time frame – 7 days. Perfect.

That should have been my first clue!

When. Will. I. Learn?

Nothing is perfect, nor apparently, what it seems!

I’m getting ahead of myself…let’s see.  To be pro-active, we removed all wall décor, switch plates, outlet covers, electronics, all items in/on/around furniture, packed everything in boxes, moved all furniture to middle of rooms to be covered, placed all non-necessary furnishings, boxes, small items, etc., in the garage, took up all rugs, and basically had the house ‘paint-ready’ for the start date.  Oh, and we moved into my mother’s to give them free reign to only have to cover stuff once and not worry about finishing one room at a time.  The house was theirs.  They had to do nothing but cover, patch, sand, and paint.

Two painters began on Monday the 6th.  The owner’s son who is taking over the business, and his side kick with 25 years under his belt, cut-in and first coat, guy.

Come Saturday, the 11th, one was left and the other one gone.  I fired the side-kick for lack of production and sloppy work.  His smoke breaks alone used half his hours and all of his work needed to be re-done.

He blamed the paint.  I blamed the painter.  I win.

Boom!  You’re outta here! 

I was told he would be replaced with a more professional side kick, but as of today, the 17th, there is still but one.

Mr Painter Man

Who I call IMA

IMA fix it – IMA gonna do it – IMA be here late tomorra – IMA sorry – IMA IMA IMA

By end of business today, there will have been a total of 11 painting days.

Know what’s done?  Hah…stop that laughing.  Wanna know?


This is still my downstairs…11 days later

Know what else?

There are 3 walls upstairs that need to be redone.  But I told IMA to save that for dessert cause I needed his ass downstairs in the kitchen!  I’ve got a counter top being redone on MONDAY!!

I even returned the remaining 6 gallons of my accent color, a beautiful Crushed Oregano green, for IMA because he keeps blaming the paint…I changed my design for him!

Does this color scare you?  It’s on my front door, which I painted, without trouble
 What the hell is wrong with me???  IMA STUPID!

Know what I’m doing right now?

😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 etc etc etc

Why bother going through all of this some might ask.  Especially when my house always looks good whether trendy or not.  Always up to date, clean, and comfy.  Homey!

Because Lord knows, today’s modern and discerning buyer would no doubt, walk into a home with red in the kitchen and yellow in the living room; green in the bathroom and a cloud painted blue sky ceiling in the bonus room, would run screaming into the street for the horror!

None of which I put on the walls but was perfectly fine with it until the day I decided to change it.

Boy oh Boy…we can’t expect someone else to think that way now can we?

Or so the real estate professionals tell me. After all, this is only the 6th house we will have sold, so how would I know anything about what sells and what doesn’t?

So…next week, it’ll be Mr. Painter-man who best have my kitchen done by tomorrow (or else ) and the counter-top crew.  That, should be an interesting day  😂

🎶 🎶 We Should’a Stayed and Let Him Go 🎶 🎶