Dear Brittany,

(Side note - Brittany is my daughter's best friend and I couldn't love her more if I had given birth to her.She's my daughter, too, and she calls me Mama Andrea.)

We're all anxiously awaiting the birth of little Landyn, wondering when he's going to make his grand appearance into our world. I'm sure you're ready to get it all over with, so you can hold him in your arms and count ten little fingers and ten little toes.

I guess since it wasn't my pregnancy (or April the giraffes) it seems like these months have flown by. I remember sitting on the porch, getting a text from Courtney with a picture of a positive pregnancy test and it said "Brittany's pregnant!!!" I was so happy because to me it felt like I was getting another grandchild!

When you hold Landyn, in your arms, you will feel a love that you never knew existed. It's an indescribable, love without end. Besides being called Nana, being a Mom is the best title you can ever be given.

I know that you're gonna be an awesome mama, There's gonna be sleepless nights, lots of poop, times when you're not sure if you're doing it right, but we're all here to cheer you along and help if you need it. Never be afraid to ask for help, if doesn't mean you're a failure or anything like that. Most of the time it just means you're tired.

I love you, my sweetie, and you're gonna rock motherhood!

Love always,

Mama Andrea

PS - I haven't had a dream about Landyn like I had about Alex being a chihuahua or Jax being a cat.

Civil War 2.0

Unless you've been living under a rock, by now you know that our President-Elect as of 2:31 am EST is Donald Trump. Love him or hate him, in January he and his family will take up residency in the White House.

Now judging from the hate towards Trump's win that is filling my news feed on Facebook, you'd think Hillary would have won. I mean obviously all of her supporters had a lot of time on their hands today to piss off the Trump supporters so surely they had time to go vote for her yesterday, right?

From my understanding, people are ending friendships over this election. I have to admit I've deleted 3 or 4 people but not because of their choice of candidate. They called me stupid for my choice. Sorry, I won't be called stupid or any other names. Honestly, if it goes to that extreme, maybe you were never really friends to begin with.

So...if you don't like Trump you realize he's just one person in charge of a huge country. Call me crazy (but don't call me stupid) I really think Trump may extend an ear to the people. Be the change you want to see in your country. Don't sit on your butt on the couch complaining for four to eight years. Progress doesn't happen that way.

There's a lot more that I really want to say here but I'll refrain. I'm not going to push my political opinions down your throats when it's already sore from yelling at one another. 

And if you're wondering who I voted for, it was Trump. I have my reasons. If I lose friends after this post goes live, I get it. But never once did I call you any names. Just remember that.

A Letter to the Parents of Jacob Hall

Dear Rodger & Renae,

You don't know me but the tragic events and the media attention your family has received from it has brought you into the hearts and minds of every American in the past week.

The reason I'm reaching out to you is this: yesterday I had outpatient surgery and up until midnight  I had no pain. I just slept a lot. But then as I laid in bed last night, with the pain getting stronger and stronger, tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes, I grabbed my phone and got on Facebook because I thought that if I could distract myself, maybe I could fall asleep. My newsfeed was filled with stories about police departments, schools and businesses wearing their superhero shirts to support your family today as you lay that sweet little man to rest. And that is when it hit me. My pain from my surgery is going to go away, but that ache in your heart for Jacob won't. I felt so foolish for even posting in my statuses this morning at 3 am that I was in some pain. The tears flowed harder.

Not to liken people to animals but once I had a cat who gave birth to a litter of 8 kittens. I thought that was a really big litter of kittens because the litters she had given birth to before were usually of about 4 kittens. In that big litter of 8 kittens, one passed away. She searched for that kitten for several days. She actually mourned for that kitten. Now, like I said, I'm not comparing you guys to animals but my point here is that no matter how many children you have, when one is no longer there, you're incomplete.

I can't imagine what you're going through right now.The closest to your pain that I've came to is when my cousin's daughter was murdered. She was like my daughter's sister and spent a lot of time in my house. I know it's not the same. From the bottom of my heart, I want you to know that me and my family have you in our thoughts and prayers and we're sending our love to you from Whitmire, SC.

Love,

Andrea Crosby & Family

The Things I've Survived (and lived to tell the story)

I was born on the very last day of 1971. Mom says that she was knocked out with something from an IV in her arm. She remembers nothing of my birth. So weird but  I survived it.

After that wacky  birthing method (and I can't even imagine and don't want to know how they got me out since she wasn't awake to push) she and I spent only two or three days in the hospital. We got into the car, and remember back in those days there were no car seats for babies back then, and we drove the 17 miles home.

I spent my nights and naps in a crib similar to the one below. The vertical rails were spaced just far enough apart that my big alien head could have gotten stuck really good in them. And that play pen (now called pack and plays) They had drop down sides and I believe they were recalled because it was easy for a kid to get wedged into a dropped side and suffocate. We were living in dangerous times in the 70s.

But hang on, you're gonna really love this. When my sister, Jody, was about one and a half and crawling around, maybe even walking some, she had an appetite for destruction so that Christmas my mom "repurposed" the play pen and put the Christmas tree in it. I can't make this stuff up! It looked goofy as all get out but it kept the toddler out of the Christmas tree. That is a very adorable me in front of the tree/play pen but on the back of the picture it says Christmas 1975. Look at that classy gold sofa in the background!

The next thing that comes to mind that I've survived are the clothes that my parent's dressed me in or maybe more specifically, the Hee Haw overalls. Most clothes from the 1970s are just terrible. They were double knit, polyester and it made kids look like their parents didn't care about them. But those Hee Haw overalls were just plain hideous. I don't know where my mom bought them or what she was thinking but they're just terrible. I have a picture of me in them but I couldn't find them. 

Soon after that, my sister and I became friends with the kid across the street, Jimmy. One of our favorite things to do was to take our Big Wheels to the church parking lot that was across the street from our house and ride. Our moms would sit on the church steps and watch us. Our rides weren't just normal laps around the parking lot though. We would pedal as fast as our legs would allow us and then all three of us would slam into each other as hard as we could. Did it hurt? Yes! Did it stop us from doing it again? Heck no! We'd brush ourselves off and do it all over again. We'd have so many boo boos when we went home. It's the reason we have so many aches and pains today. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get up from something like that now.

Fast forward a little later to the mid and late 1980s. Big hair and the methods used to obtain said hair. Mousse, gel, crimping irons, and industrial strength hair spray. The girl in the picture isn't me but I can say that at one time my hair was that big. To create  the little wingy things over the ears, I would use a pick, hold the hair back with it, spray a lot of hair spray on the held back hair, and then use the hair dryer to dry the hair, still holding back the hair with the pick. Sometimes I would burn my ears and other times I would sit in class and discreetly peel off flakes of dried hair spray from my ears. I survived all of those styling products only to make it to the 90s and have several pixie hair cuts.

Then came my baby making days. I survived 24/7 morning sickness throughout the entire pregnancy with Courtney and then a VERY long labor and excruciating delivery with no pain medication. With Alex it was smooth sailing from beginning to the end until my ob kept inducing labor and I wouldn't dilate. I ended up having a c-section and was so glad that I did because he weighed in at 9 lbs 6 oz. The recovery was a breeze, too. Nick's pregnancy was easy and his c-section and delivery and recovery was super easy.

Since then I've survived two abusive relationships that I chose not to stay for more abuse. Most recently, I survived a light stroke in September of 2015. I know that it coudl have been a lot worse than it was, but I'm thankful that it wasn't.

So what is the point of all of this? I'm a survivor. Everything in my life, no matter how ridiculous or serious has been a lesson. I'm still here for a reason. It's time for me to start figuring out what that reason is.

Let me introduce....

Anastasia.

I wasn't planning on getting another pet. At our house we already have the cats, Olivia & Kevin Catsner, the really goofy doggy Miller, and our 15 year old turtle, Shelly. 

Last year, the kitty cat love of my life, Sophonia, died from a stroke. Her passing nearly took me with her. I loved Sophonia like I've never loved no other cat. She came into my life when I needed her most. She was born when I was in a relationship that was horrible, although I didn't know it at the time. A year ago this month she died from that stroke.

Sophonia wasn't like a "normal" cat. Most cats will only sit with you when they want to sit with you. Sophonia would sit with you whenever. You could pick her up, place her on your lap, shoulder or wherever and she was fine with that. She'd sit with you for hours on end. You know how most cats seem to be in a hurry to get in front of you and then poke along or just completely stop? Not my Sophonia. And the funniest thing she learned in her short lifetime was something she learned from her Doxie brother, Frankie. She would gallop down the hallway (we lived in a mobile home) at high speeds along side Frankie anytime they would hear our car pull into the driveway so they could greet us when we came in the door. 

The night she died, Frankie never left her side. And for weeks after her grieved until I thought he was going to starve to death. We tried different brands of dog food just trying to get our little guy to eat but the vet said he was depressed. He was missing his best friend. I knew the feeling. I was missing her, too. Even though we had several other cats, none of them could take her place. She just had this personality that was like none other.

After I left that relationship and moved back to my hometown, Olivia was adopted from the Humane Society. She was never adopted as a replacement, there could never be a replacement. We just wanted to give an older cat a second chance.

Fast forward to this month. The anniversary of Sophonia's death month. Courtney and Justin told me several times about a kitten they'd seen darting out in traffic up the street. I knew it needed to be rescued but I didn't think we needed anymore pets. Then this past Friday, Justin mentioned that he thought that the kitten was marked similarly to Sophonia. Well, that just did it for me, we had to go rescue the kitten right then and there. We have a humane trap so we put a can of tuna and a bowl of water in it, set it in where the kitten had been seen and waited.

For several days, we checked the trap but there was no luck. There was even one day that it looked like the kitten had went in the trap and eaten the food but she was so tiny that she hadn't set the trap doors off. Well, patience and persistence paid off, because as of Monday, the little girl is mine. 

Her name is Anastasia and it suits the tiny princess to a T. She doesn't resemble Sophonia exactly but there's a lot of similarities that are hard to ignore. For one, Anastasia is very happy to be held pretty much any time. And another, she's a calico like Sophonia. Also, it's more than just a coincidence that she showed up near the anniversary of Sophonia's death.

I've snuggled Anastasia a lot since she came here. And I've shed a few tears thinking of Sophonia. Some may think it's silly to think of a cat in such a way. I won't apologize for loving my pets like I do, they're more than just animals to me.

A Funny Thing Happened Last Night

Last night I couldn't sleep so I went on the book of Faces and while I was scrolling around laughing at friends' shares and such I decided to search and see who else in this world had the same name as me. Well, imagine my surprise when I came across someone  (and I know who) who stole a profile picture of me off of my crochet page, and made a fake Facebook page. So immature. And even more immature is this person has me interested in men and women. Whatever, buddy. It's all been reported to Facebook so I'm letting them handle it.

After I posted the Liberation post I realized I never in the post showed y'all  what my hair looks like after my haircut. See the attached collage.

That's all I've got for today. I hope your Monday is fabulous!

The Summer Epidemic

There's a summer epidemic that's sweeping the nation, possibly sweeping the entire world. It's not the Zika virus, or any other illness that you would catch from a insect bite. It's one borne out of pure stupidty. 

Everyday it seems we're reading that another parent or guardian has left a child in a blistering hot car to die a very excruciating death.

Just three nights ago in Kershaw County, SC, 46 year old Melony Peters was arrested for leaving her car unattended with a 16-month old child and a dog inside the car while she was grocery shopping. Fortunately, a lady was able to unlock the car and get the baby out of the car, take the baby inside the grocery store, and call 911. The baby was drenched with sweat. When the police located Peters and questioned her, she stated that she "had a lot on her mind and forgot the child was in the car." The baby was taken into protective care by the Department of Social Services and the dog was turned over to Kershaw County Special Services. Not all cases have a positive outcome.

Earlier this month, a mom in Mississippi left her two year old child in her car while she went to work. She had forgotten to drop the child off at daycare before work, but get this: she remembered to go pick the child up from daycare. Several points come to mind over this. First, when she approached  her car after work, did she not see her deceased child, still strapped into her car seat? Second, if the mother could remember the routine of picking the child up from daycare, why couldn't she remember to drop the child off? And third, how are some ruled an accident and others aren't?

When the story of the Mississippi mom first started making it's rounds on social media, I read the comments that people were leaving, which is something I need to stop doing because some of the idiots just infuriate me, but one of them really ticked me off. She said something to the effect of "if you have a baby in the backseat, take off your left shoe and leave it in the backseat so that when you get out you'll realize it's in the backseat with your child."

My thoughts on that are IF YOU'RE THAT STUPID, DO NOT REPRODUCE!

Remember the dad in Georgia who left his two year old in the car? He caused a big argument on my Facebook page without even knowing it. A former friend was defending him and was even going as far as to say  that she could see her boyfriend leaving her kids in the car. I told her that maybe she should rethink that relationship. She blocked me.

In closing I'd just like to say that it seems awfully odd to me that you never really hear of kids being left in cars in the winter and freezing to death. Hmm, I wonder why?

Liberation

I wasn't really going to write about the end of my relationship with a recent ex on my blog. It ended on very ugly, somewhat violent terms in September of last year. He's told anyone who would listen many lies about me, but I don't care. I know the truth and that's all that matters. If he needs to tell lies to feel better about his pathetic life, good for him.

One of his control issues was my hair.

Before I've written about how thick my hair is and with that comes the uncontrollable curls and waves.(And even John Freida can't help me on humid days) I would often joke that I was gonna cut it all off and I had even went as far as saying I was gonna shave all of my hair off. He would quickly tell me no, that I wasn't allowed to do that. At first I thought he was joking but soon I learned that he was serious.

Ok, so let me move on to the liberation. Tonight my daughter, who is a brilliant cosmetology student, and I decided it was time for a hair cut. My hair was past my waist but the ends were looking shabby from many colorings. I'm a hair color freak. If the barn needs painting, paint it.

Anyway, I sat down and let her do what she does best.

About an hour later, I had 18 inches of hair missing and I felt like I was finally totally free of him, But we're not totally finished with my hair. The hair color has gotta be touched up and there's gonna be a little something else added, too!

This is what we've got so far. I feel like I lost 50 pounds tonight:

Meet Nick

Since Nick started school, he has definitely developed a personality all of his own. He turned seven on February 23 and he's about to finish the first grade at the end of May. He takes to heart everything his teacher has ever said to him, (and I am in NO way saying she is wrong at all, I am thankful for his wonderful teacher and school)because if I explain something in a different way, he's quick to say, "well, Mrs. ___ said..." to which I really want to reply with "why did you even ask me if you already knew?"

Nick is the first child of mine that is truly eager to go to school. (Although, Alex is a bit more eager now that he's in middle school and has discovered girls.) I do think Nick would be happier if school started an hour or two later in the morning because he's hard to get going. He makes really good grades though and receives lots of certificates at at their Success Assemblies each nine weeks. On Nick's last report card, his teacher wrote a note that said that she was having trouble with him talking to the people at his table. It took all the willpower in me to not write a note back to her telling her if she figures out an idea to keep him quiet for more than two minutes to lay it on me. Because ---->

I'm surprised the child doesn't talk in his sleep. We are working with the all new mouth of the South. His jaws do not get tired. In the afternoons after school, he likes to do aerobics with me. I figured sure, why not? If like they say on that commercial for Annie's List, maybe you can apply that to a child. (And for you people who get offended by everything these days I'm not comparing my child to a dog, ok?) But, he talks the entire 32 to 40 minutes of the workout.

Keep reading. It gets better.

He's a stickler for perfection. When he first started working out with me, he'd glance back me multiple times to make sure I was "doing it right". Now it has worked it's way up to a huge sigh because I'm such a mess that he has to turn sideways so he can still see the DVD and keep an eye on me. (For the record, I'm doing it right.)

But you know what? He's my last baby and just like his sister and brother before him, he's perfect. His quirks fit in with this perfectly imperfect family. And just like his sister, brother, brother in law,  and nephew, I love him.

PS - the picture below is Nick with all of his awards after his kindergarten graduation.

Adults and Hand Foot Mouth Disease

A few weeks ago my grandson, Jax, was diagnosed with hand foot mouth disease and his pediatrician told his parents that adults don't get the disease.

Well, I woke up with the lovely blisters on my hands, feet and in my mouth and throat yesterday. After posting on Facebook about it I've found out that more than one pediatrician has told parents they wouldn't get the disease and some have been told they would break out with the blisters/rash.

Although I'm quite the enigma, I'm not the only adult who has ever broken out with it. A cousin of mine commented on my status saying that she had gotten from her nephew.

Here's what to expect if you do get it since it is apparently going around:

1. While the blisters are small and look harmless, they're somewhat painful. It hurts to hold my knitting needles and do something I enjoy.

2.  Stay hydrated. I haven't had an appetite at all but it's important to keep some fluids in. If you do eat, you may want to stick with the more bland foods. Sticking a pizza down a blistered up throat sucks.

3. You may not have the rash or blisters in all areas and you may even have them in extra areas.

4. You will be contagious for seven to 10 days. Limit contact with as few of people as you can.

5. Wash your hands often.

6.  Other symptoms you may have: low grade fever, chills, sore throat and fatigue.

Cheaters

So yesterday a federal judge overturned Tom Brady's four game suspension in the deflategate ordeal. The NFL says that they'll appeal. You can read all of the details here: http://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/nfl/patriots/2015/09/03/deflategate-tom-brady-roger-goodell-judge-richard-overturned-berman-new-england/71504142/

I'm not a big NFL fan. (Well, I was up until about a week ago when my former favorite team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, signed on Michael Vick, but we'll save this tirade for another blog post.) But I am a big fan of honesty and playing by the rules.

Back during the playoffs, it seems that Tom Brady and his teammates felt that their skills were lacking enough that they had to deflate their balls (footballs, not testicles) in order to play better or catch them better or something. Whatever their reason was, it helped them to win that game and advance to the Super Bowl.

Someone reported them and even though it had been reported and was being investigated, they were still able to a  play in the Super Bowl and they won.

Well after the Super Bowl was over and done with, the investigation was complete, lo and behold, it was found that Tom Brady, indeed, had cheated. Gasp!

He shall be suspended for four games!

Gasp!

And on September 3, 2105 a federal judge overturned that because in America it's okay to cheat. But the NFL is planning to appeal, the article says.

Where am I going with this?

Tom Brady and other athletes, celebrities, etc are looked upon by children as heroes. Everything they say and do is taken in by those little eyes and ears. If it's okay for them to cheat, then why isn't it okay for the little children to cheat?

Judge Richard M Berman, why is it okay for Tom Brady to cheat and get away with it? How do we explain this to our kids?

A PSA for American Facebook Users

I'm sure you all have seen the attached photo that is floating around Facebook for the past few weeks and you've thought it was awesome and hit that little share button without even looking at the link that is just above the picture.

Well, let's take a close look at that link, shall we?

https://www.gov.uk/government/news/smoking-in-vehicles

Look closely after the https://www.gov. part. It says UK. Not US. That means that law is going into effect in the UK. Not the US.

Now let me say I don't think you should ride around all day with your kids while you chain smoke. I'm not saying that at all. I also know that there are several states in the US that has that law in effect.

Then what is it that I'm saying?

Know what you're sharing before you share it so that I don't have to post a PSA about it. There are so many hoaxes being passed around on social media these days and all it does is makes the person that's sharing it look ignorant. Take a second and do a little research before you share it.There's a great website called snopes.com. Go there, look for there search box and type in a little info on what you're looking for. It will tell you if something is true or false.

Thanks and enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Ancestry

So it's been a while but not much has been going on to write about. I've been in a lot of pain with my fibromyalgia and some new health issues but I don't like being a Debbie downer so I've been keeping that stuff to myself.

A couple of weeks ago I started working on min and Mark's family trees. When I hit a road block I sent out an SOS on Facebook to all my family members and my cousin Emmy sent me a list of my Papa's aunts and uncles. Among them was my great great Uncle Thomas Rance Yarbrough.

Thomas was an employee of the Chiquola mill. In September of 1934 some of the employees decided to unionize and strike because of wages and long hours. The superintendent, who was also the town's mayor, deputized some of the men who hadn't joined the union and armed them with pistols, rifles, and shotguns. On September 6 things turned violent and shots rang out leaving seven men dead, including my great great uncle. Several others, including women, were wounded. Strange enough, all of this took place in the town of Honea Path, the town I moved to about 18 months ago.

I have to give credit to Frank Beacham and his e book, Mill Town Murder, for a lot of the information above. I highly recommend reading this book.

Today, Mark and I explored the ruins of the Chiquola mill. I read in an 2014 article from the Anderson Independent that an earthquake in February 2013 destroyed a lot of what was still standing of the old textile mill. As I explored it was easy to imagine the sounds, the sights and even the smells of what it must have been like back when it was still in operation. I grew up about two and a half blocks from the JP Stevens plant in Whitmire. I would fall asleep every night to the hum of the sounds the machines. I remember the smells from a tour the powers that be allowed when I was child. The place seemed huge. I recall my Meme coming home from her second shift job with lint in her hair.

Mills were the heartbeat of the southeast at one time.

On September 6, 1934 my great great uncle's heartbeat stopped on the sidewalk in front of a mill.

RIP Thomas Rance Yarbrough

You've heard of fair weather friends? Well...

I have a story for you. Grab some popcorn, wine, vodka, Resse's Pieces or the snack of your choice.

I had (had, you see) this friend. We'll call her S. A and I had been friends for about six years. We were close friends and had even became "sisters" at one point. A lives out of state and has visited me twice.

In the past year, things started getting nuts with her. I stopped hearing from her on a regular basis. It got to the point that I only heard from her when him she needed to bitch about the current boyfriend. (This was the first current boyfriend of the year, not the current current guy.) she would go on and on about how he had wronged her in one way or another and me, trying to be a good friend, would sympathetically listen and then always agree that he had just done her wrong. And of course I always told her what a great person she is and tell her everything she needed to hear to make her feel better. Even though she says she sugar coats nothing, she needs everything sugar coated for her. 

However, if I needed to talk to her about an issue I was having either she didn't have time or it soon got turned around to her current problem. The opposite of a fair weather friend.

Since then, she has gone through 3 (I think, it's hard to keep up) guys in the past year. That's really none of my business except for the fact that she told me in one of our last conversations back in the fall last year that she wasn't going to date anyone for a while and that she was gonna work on herself. Ok. Good.

Near the end of last year, I shared a picture on Facebook that said something like "in the past year you've posted more pictures on Instagram with the caption me and my better half. You must be an extra large pizza." I thought it was funny but honestly had not one single person in mind. Apparently, S was feeling guilty because she was the first to comment with "you must be talking about me." Well, honey, if the shoe fits!

So, S, (and since she's blocked me on all social media I doubt that she'll see this) I'm not sugar coating anything anymore:

1.  Honey, you need some serious help. You say one thing and do the exact opposite. You're gonna stop dating and work on yourself so you go through 2 or 3 more men after that.

2.  No one believes anything that comes out of your mouth anymore because of past lies. Who knows what lies you're telling at this very moment. 

3.  Kiss my ass.

Thick Hair Problems

I was blessed with thick hair. Very thick hair. And since it's long, it's a pain in the butt. It was always straight until about 5 years ago and then it started curling on it's own. All of the styling products in the world barely tame this mess.

I can't just wash, dry and go. Unless it's a ponytail day, which happens quite often here lately. This is what happens when I blow dry my hair:

 It frizzes so bad and gets 80's hair big. Where was this hair in the 80's?

So if I want to wear it curly, I have to first use a detangler spray (which I do if drying it too), use a big comb and struggle to comb out all the tangles. This comes after washing and conditioning. Then I use John Freida's Dream Curls. (Mine are nightmare curls, ok?) Then I just let it dry on it's own. And that takes hours and that's no joke.

But if I want it straight, I have to flat iron for about 45 minutes to an hour after drying for that same amount of time. And sometimes I need help with the flat ironing or straightening, as some call it.

The day of my daughter's wedding I wanted to wear it straight. So I asked Mark to help me. Now, like I said earlier, straightening takes almost an hour. I sat at the kitchen table, handed him the iron. After 4 swipes through my hair he said "ok" as in okay I'm done. Oh, my love, I wish it was that simple.

Here's what a good straight hair day looks like for me:

And this is a good curly day for me:

Yeah this is just some random gibberish but I'm about to straighten my hair and thought I'd give those in the same boat a chuckle.

Happy Thirsday!

If you have nothing nice to say...

First of all, let me just say that this post isn't meant to hurt anyone's feelings or "out" anyone. When I strongly feel a certain way about a subject or situation, the best thing I can do is blog about it. 

You know it really sucks when you wake up, check your Facebook notifications and instantly get pissed off.

Back before Halloween this year I had posted a throwback Thursday picture of my two oldests and a cousin on Halloween when they were all little. I tagged the appropriate people and until today I hadn't given that picture much thought. 

Today some twat waffle (not anyone on my friends list) had left a comment insinuating that my cousin who is tagged is a pedophile. 

The cousin that this is in reference to is homosexual but so what? What's it to ya?

Did you know that most pedophiles are straight in their sexual orientation? Just because someone is gay doesn't mean that they're child molesters. 

And while I'm on the subject, did you know that just because someone is homosexual it does not mean that person is attracted to everyone of the same sex? Are you attracted to everyone of the opposite sex (if you're straight)? No, I doubt you are and neither are homosexuals. I've had male friends think that just because a gay male talked to them, they were being hit on. Really? Do you think you're so awesome that you're irresistible to all orientations?

There's so much ignorance out there these days it just makes me sick. I'm not saying that I'm the smartest cookie but would it hurt for some of you to think before you speak?

And while I'm on the subject of homosexuality, let me just say that I'm glad our state is finally coming out of the Stone Age. If I have the right to marry the man I love, everyone should have that right. True love is something that only the lucky are able to find. And I say if you're lucky enough to find it, everyone should be able to put a ring on it.

Let the Facebook deleting begin.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Let this serve as my warning label

Because I didn't come with one.

I've noticed on Facebook that some people who used to comment on my posts (my personal page, that is) are no longer commenting or liking. I thought maybe they had unfriended me but I guess maybe they just used that handy unfollow feature. It's okay! I use it A LOT too. 

I realize that I'm hard to handle. And there are many facets to that.

I have the mouth of a well educated sailor. And I don't save it for the ship. Along with the fact that I have the mouth of a well educated sailor, I didn't come with a filter. So if a thought comes to my head, more than likely it gets posted, four letter words and all.

I have a crude sense of humor. If it strikes me as funny, you can bet I'm gonna share it. Of course, there are some things that even I don't find funny. I am a Southern belle, after all.

I do believe that marijuana should be legalized in all states for medical and recreational purposes. I don't want to get into a heated debate here because I have came to realize after a debate on my personal Facebook that the people who are against it are misinformed. And hey, it's not like I'm saying that meth or cocaine should be legalized.

I'm a redhead. No explanation is needed for that facet.

I have tattoos. Many tattoos and have plans for many more. If you think that makes me unworthy of your time, then YOU are unworthy of mine.

Yes, I post everytime I workout. I don't care if Morpheus says that it isn't necessary. It helps keep me accountable because believe it or not I am partly a people pleaser in the fact that if I think people are watching my progress, I don't give up.

I crochet and some people have a problem with that and have even went so far as to tag me in posts, making fun of my chosen form of art. Whatever.

And the list could go on and on. Bottomline is: I am me, I am weird, I am opinionated, I am quirky, I am happy. Your opinion of me and my life does not validate me.

And speaking of weightloss, here's a progress picture:

Today was Thursday in this picture.

Happy Saturday y'all!

Dear Butthurt,

Get over yourself!

Since I started hunting this season, I've seen more negative anti-hunting posts than ever. A lot are from vegetarians but most are from just ignorant people.

So take for instance the story about the kid in Michigan who shot the albino deer. People have made death threats against this child. What the hell? Threaten to kill a kid because you're mad that he killed an animal? That doesn't make any sense. The kid didn't do anything illegal. It's not an endangered species and with the overbreeding it's not even really all that rare.

I do have a question for those against hunting: if one jumped out in front of your car, late one night on a lonely country road would you still be that deer's biggest fan? After it totals your car and possibly brings injury or worse to the occupants of your car I doubt that you'll still be cheering for the deer.

Do you understand that without hunting there would be such an over population of deer that they would be invading suburban areas becoming nuisances? Are you just gonna shoo them away? 

I know that some people hunt for just the sport of hunting, that's none of my business and it's none of your business either. And truth be known, I would be thrilled with the rack of a 10 pointer hanging on my wall. And that's none of your business either.

I've seen comments saying that hunting is barbaric and inhumane. I dare you to go on YouTube and search for how cattle is killed in slaughter houses. Honestly, a shot that drops a deer, whether it's from a rifle or a bow and arrow, is a lot less inhumane.

Mark and I hunt for food. It's why we fish. It's also why we don't duck hunt because we don't eat duck. Financial times get hard but it's nice having a skill that allows you to feed your family.

Venison is a lot leaner than most other meats too. I found that out the other night when I was putting my venison cubed steak in my food diary on My Fitness Pal. Just a bonus benefit.

I do realize that everyone is entitled to their own opinions on every subject under the sun but just don't be ignorant about it. 

It's not like he killed a cat.

Signed,

Andrea

Thank You TLC

If you haven't heard, TLC has put an end to Here Comes Honey Boo Boo! And to this a say a big thank you and:

Like I said earlier to my daughter I don't know why I even care, it's like a car wreck that you should look away from but you just keep staring. I keep reading.

And the WSSL FM's Beth Bradley posted this on her blog this morning: http://m.wsslfm.com/onair/beth-bradley-41258/how-can-a-convicted-child-molester-12912547/

Mama June is dating this convicted child molester, Mark McDaniel, and the thing is, he molested one of HER older kids. Why on earth would you invite that perv back into your life? It's like saying "I've got another daughter. Would you like a turn with her?" It's not okay June. Wtf are you thinking? And if it happens again, June, do you realize that you're as guilty as him? You can be convicted and you'll be listed as a sex offender. Wake up honey, he's only dating you to get to your daughters! 

Alana's dad, Sugar Bear, is very upset about this and according to Beth's blog and other articles I've read he's seeking custody. Can't say I blame him there. There's just so much not right about all of this. Never has been.

And if you've read my blog for a while now, you know this isn't my first post about those seemingly inbreds from Georgia. The fact that they're giving my South a bad rep is just too much! We are not all like that. And I'll just bet that you folks from the North & West have some people you're not so proud of from your areas too! 

We can only hope that this is just a scandal to keep Mama June and her clan in the public eye. It's sick if it is but at least if it is, Alana and her sisters aren't in any danger. From day one these people have been going about it the wrong way to get attention and the longer it goes on the worse it gets.

I doubt this will be my last post about that crew and that's sad for me to admit. But thanks to TLC, what's been seen can't be unseen.

Here's the link to my first post about them: http://caviarandcornbread.blogspot.com/2012/10/oh-puh-leeze.html

Migraines in a nutshell

There are a lot of people out there who are still under the assumption that a migraine is just another name for a headache. Well, sillies, if it were we'd just call it a headache. Let me walk you through one of my typical migraines.

First, there's the nausea. It may bring on a puke fest or it may not. It normally does bring on the productive festivity that I mentioned for me. (And I try not to say the "p" word too often for those with weak tummies.)

Next, I go blind. Sometimes it's in both eyes but normally it's in my left eye and has lasted anywhere from 10 minutes to 48 hours.

Then, imagine your head, but only one side of it (usually the right side for me and rarely the left) in a vise grip. Someone is turning the crank thingy on the vise until your head is close to popping. Oh, if only it were just a headache. But no! It doesn't stop there.

Because there's also sensitivity to light. Not only can I not see out of my left eye but it feels like my right eye is being impaled by shards of glass. "Sensitivity to light" my ass! That lovely phrase makes it sound like a walk in the park while wearing shades.

Then we have "sensitivity to smells". Oh brother. Try "using dollar store perfume for nasal spray" to be more accurate. The scent of everything is magnified by a million. Something that's usually a delight to inhale becomes a nightmare.

And lastly, sensitivity to sounds. We have five 2 week old kittens. During a migraine there tiny cries sound like King Kong slamming one of those bells like on a receptionist's desk, over and over again with Thor's hammer.

No, a migraine isn't just another name for a headache. And after reading this, you still think so, I'm gonna beat ya with Thor's hammer! Lol

Good night!