Stormcarver of Dysfunction

Working

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 14:17:00 +0000

Finished carving on the whale tail yesterday, after 2 days of ...well, I guess I can call it sanding, even if it was done with steel wool. Looks like I can get it sealed today, as the weather is alright. Started this spring's batch of lilies last night, as well.

I'm not sure what I'm gonna do about a base for the tail. There are so many possibilities. I could leave it without or put it on a basic wood base. Have been thinking, though, that it would be fun to put it on a base that looks like water. That means polymer clay - which I hate - or maybe trying out 2-part urethane. I tend to like my lungs and hands, so that might put urethane outta the picture. Might be fun, though. The possibilities are interesting. I may have to try it out.

I'm dizzy as hell today, and am kinda waiting for the weirdness to start. A few times lately I have had an odd tightening across one shoulder and a one-sided numbness happen in spots. I have an appointment next week with the neuro and likely a subsequent MRI pending. I find it ridiculous that this is going on in my early 40's and, really, damn well resent it. But I want to remain intact so this has to stop. And, in light of this, it looks like I am gonna take it easy and work on lilies today.

WIll post pics or a link to the sealed whale tail in the next couple of days.

Yay for the intarwebs

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sat, 26 Mar 2011 15:34:00 +0000

Ordered stone today! Will say I'm excited even if it makes me look like some kind of off-the-charts nature geek for being happy over a rock. Yes, I love the intarwebs, because I can order anything in the world. Even rock, if I am in the mood to spend my money on such a thing.

Ordered more translucent alabaster, as I am running low. The last order I made was for regular white alabaster from Sculpture House. Had never ordered from them before and my regular place apparently went out of business or lost their webhost or maybe fired the only person in their office who understood how to turn on a computer. In any case, I only ordered the regular alabaster to make sure that Sculpture House was a business I wanted to work with - and it turns out they kinda rock (no pun intended - really).

The only problem I had making the order is that the trans. alabaster is the only one listed that doesn't show the state it will arrive in. The others do: nice clean blocks or cylinder forms. The trans? No clue. I could get some malformed rough chunk that I have to wade through in order to work with it instead of the beautiful cylinder I am used to. We'll see.

I have a whale tail to finish out in the next couple of days and a passel of lilies to attend to. Am running short of those and it's spring, so, time to make lilies.

The whale tail makes me think that I need to order urethane to make a water-like base for it. It's either that or look into cutting multiple layers of plexiglass for a water effect...

Put together and ordered the kewlest business cards last night. They will take forever to get here, but they are amazing. Will post a pic when they get here. Wahoo for Moo Custom business cards !

Got stuff up on Etsy finally, even if it's just a few items. I said I'd never do it, so maybe I've finally succumbed to peer pressure. WIll see how it goes for a bit. Take a look. What the hell.

I need to go get dusty now.

balance

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 15:48:00 +0000

I am finding mine again, finally. I am finishing stress bunnies. I have done a couple of trials of new things in stone. I am back on DeviantArt (http://stormcarver.deviantart.com/), and am exploring other people's work, which is fun, therapeutic, and mind-expanding. I have a trip planned for the latter half of April that will have me visiting people I haven't seen in way too many years. I am going by myself, which, for someone with traffic phobias, is a little skeery, but I'm going. I need to. The reconnections and the time are both way overdue.

Next week, J and I are going to visit a friend who is, within the next few months, going to die. She is leaving a partner who will have a hard time continuing without her. We are going to enjoy some time and say goodbye and to let them know that we are there for them. We love them both very much. It's going to be a damned hard few days, but we couldn't possibly let one pass without seeing her, and can't let the other go on without knowing we are there for her.

I know that I have been out of touch, with many things, for quite some time. I also know this can't continue. It's not good for me, or anyone around me. I just have to remember, no matter how hard things get or how much my body may fight me, I am still breathing. I can still do what I do, even if I have to change the way I approach things in order to do it.

So, today, while I may look askance at the weather that tries to kick my ass into submission, I find something that I can do. I am not happy with it, because I would rather be doing something else - something I had planned to do. Not very Zen...yet. I will get there. I am just beginning to see center again.

dammitdammitdammit!

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 22:41:00 +0000

I tried to do a small bit of editing on the web page last night (www.stormcarver.com) and ran into a snag. See, the last time I did anything with it was before Apple updated the OS to Snow Leopard. I know, badbad me. Anyway, I quickly found out that the saving process has changed. A lot. Half an hour later, I finally managed to figure out that it only took a little click here and there to fix what I was looking for. However. Ya, however. When I uploaded the changes, things didn't work right.

When I tested links, things were a real mess. Going from one page to another, it was like I had a cache issue that kept bringing up bad, old pages. I killed the cache, tried another browser, and no change. Apparently, not everything was such a smooth transition from the old Mac OS to the new one, like I had innocently thought. Well, hell.

I have spent today redoing my web page. Um, yay? I do like it better than the old one, I have to admit, although many of the old elements are still there. It's easier to navigate, for one thing. It's also a touch more dramatic, graphically speaking. I only hope that the damn thing works once I manage to get it all uploaded. It works in theory. At least I have that going for me. Reality is what I have to specuate upon while it uploads. I am not good with the patience issue, especially when I was up until 5 this morning trying to fix things before I finally realized that I was going to have to almost completely rework it. The cursing was spectacular, I gotta tell ya. Only 70 Mb left to load, the slow son of a..gah! Lalala...

Updated my DeviantArt page while I am waiting - still waiting - for some page elements to upload. So far, everything works, but I also haven't yet loaded the index.html file, which was incredibly wonky last night. It kept pointing to a page that hasn't existed for months, for some untold, stoopid reason. It really shouldn't work like that, and I am hoping that a new one, uploaded after everything else, will fix the problem. But we all know that hope, like shit, floats, right? Only 10 Mb to go now.

Thank all the gods, it works! Go look. Let me know if anything is messed up.

wishes

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 04:08:00 +0000

I always said I wouldn't ever want to "go back." I wouldn't take that wish to return to being a kid if given the chance. I don't know if I can say that anymore.

Getting older means I, having been hit (through no fault of my own) in four auto accidents, hurt all the damn time. It means that I am seeing age beginning to touch my friends. It's in their faces, their voices, their bodies. I'm starting to lose people to things that I associate with "old age," not with people in their 40's.

Granted, we're not all supposed to live forever, but I wish I didn't see lines in the faces of the people I went to high school with. And I sure as hell wish I wasn't going to lose someone I love, someone in their early 40's, to cancer.

AT&T

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 15:04:00 +0000

Sucks.

That is all.

Bitching, In Specific

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 00:43:00 +0000

Ok, so I haven't posted in forever. Have had stuff going on, to say the least. I won't bore you.

On to the bitching.

As of August 1, the festive government sees fit to ban "flavored tobaccos," excluding, of course, Big Tobacco's menthol flavor, but including other "candy" flavors like vanilla, cherry, and clove. While I like most of what Obama has tried to do, I think that signing over the governing of tobacco products to the FDA is completely asinine. Hell, that would be like giving final approval of medications to a branch of the administration that is so addicted to pharmaceutical bribe money that...oh. Nevermind. More bribe money for them!

So, while states are raising taxes on cigarettes in desperate attempts to bridge the gap between money needed for emergency services, school budgets, etc, and actual money on hand, the FDA is using this fantastic "we're gonna ban flavored tobaccos!" ploy to drum up money for themselves. The results so far? Many of the originally banned tobaccos, which include a number of high-end cigars, have magically been removed from the list. Others, including a number of clove cigarettes, which were the original targets of the bill, have re-designed themselves. Instead of being packaged as "clove cigarettes," they will now be packaged as "clove cigars." They will come in smaller numbers per package, in redesigned packages, and at a slightly higher price. Gee, I wonder how these companies are getting away with this? Any guesses? Think there is a monetary exchange involved that we, the people, will never see on the books? Think our money-starved states will ever see any of it? I think we both have the same idea here. I bet we're both pretty well pissed off about it, too.

On a lighter note, I guess, but not any less annoying for being more pervasive is the fact that 80's music is being thrust upon us again. I think I managed to ignore most of it until I was watching movies this past weekend. These were recent movies - not old things that don't qualify for DVD, mind you, but recent DVD releases. I don't remember what the hell they were (except Paul Blart, for which I deserve to be smacked for watching, I freely admit), but I don't recall being subjected to as much Journey music in high school as I was in about 6 hours of cinematic hell. Really, what are these people thinking? Is it a plot to make our ears bleed? Is it some type of movie producers' mass midlife crisis?

Whatever it is, it needs to stop. No one needs to hear, or be encouraged to emulate, whining 80's singers. It's over, thank gods. Let it rest in hell.

Now, let's talk about pain. Not a nice subject, I know. Still, pain is the reason I subjected myself to bad movies instead of being out in the world doing something else. Well, honestly, just about anything else.

It's been over 10 years since the last worthless jackass hit the car I was in. I count myself lucky that, despite the abuse my body has taken, I have done as well as I have until now. In February of this year, I started having what we (docs included) thought was migraines on the wrong side of my head. MRI showed nothing unusual, which is good. Then, a couple months later, the pain in my low back got bad enough that I started vomiting on a regular basis over it. It seemed that anything could set it off and it would go on for days at a time. I actually thought the migraines would be better. This went on for a month.

My doctor rocks and found that there's something in my low back that twists and sets off the whole vomiting thing. And, since he's actually a D.O. that does orthopedic adjustments, he adjusted it. Yay! Except the migraines came back. I immediately regretted the thought that I would take the migraines over the vomiting.

So the migraines on the wrong side aren't migraines, but are originating from my low back. I now alternate back and forth between those and the pain so bad in my back that it creates amazing nausea. This festive seesaw has gone on since April. I see the doc Thursday and am going to request an MRI and a referral to an orthopedic surgeon. Meds don't agree with me most times, but in this case I have not only requested them, but taken them, to no avail. When I spend 4 months with 2/3 down time, it's time to think about drastic measures because I can't take it anymore. Useless isn't the word when I can't walk my own fucking dog or I spend days where I can't get my own drink or even take a damn shower. Walking across the living room makes me turn grey, or worse, green.

Good days are amazing. Any day I can drive, walk the dog, do something normal, I love. Those are good damn days.

So no, I haven't posted in quite a while. But I may be doing so again, even if it's just to vent. About whatever.

The Guiding Sludge

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 02:56:00 +0000

Relatives suck. Well, some do, anyway. Don'cha sometimes wish you could choose all your family instead of being stuck with the assholes that DNA, that bitch, deals you?

Those of you who read regularly know that my sister had issues, I went and got her from states away, and that she left. She's my little sister, there isn't really any way I could tell her no. And she has my 7y.o. nephew. Can't leave them alone, in another state, with a temp job for shitty pay. I would suck as a human being if I could have done that. So my family sacrificed and I went to get them, brought them home, and we were taking care of them until she could get a job. It was a bit cramped, but it was kewl.

Except that she continued to talk to the asshole who put her in that situation in the first place. He stole from her, lied to her, left the state and went back to his...wife. Yup. His wife, whom he hadn't managed to divorce, and his kids, for whom he couldn't manage to even fill out visitation paperwork. But, boy, could that bastard set up a scheme to screw over my sister and her kiddo to get back to them. And yet, after moving, she was in constant contact with him. wtf?

My sister had a job lined up at the end of this month with a big communications company, including profit sharing and full medical. Good money. She had full-time, no-cost child care and transportation, via me. Good schools, decently priced housing, family to depend upon and share the kid duties.

I thought everything was going well. Then one day, she did everything she could to piss me off. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Ya. Come to find out, she was plotting with the thieving bastard. She wasn't able to make me the horrible mean person in the scenario, so she kept her plans to herself. The day after the bitchfest, I was told she was leaving to be with him minutes before she began to pack the car. Supposedly, she didn't want to hurt my feelings. I think it was that she didn't want anyone asking questions that might make her think like a sane person or that might make her consider what she is doing to the child. She only took what fit in the car, so left quite a bit here, assuming we could/would pay for storage...indefinitely?

I got a 2 minute call to let me know she got to PA. After her older son (who lives with his father - thankfully, I think now) called here looking for her, I sent a email to her, letting her know. I got a snotty one back. Then nothing.

I was heartbroken. Astounded. Disbelieving. You can likely imagine.

Ten days later, I finally decided to let her know how I felt. Not knowing if the cell # I had been given was hers or belonged to someone else, I didn't feel right calling. I sent email. I was very honest. I got a reply that was...*shakes head* I asked for contact info for both boys, so that I can keep in touch and send holiday gifts, etc. I was told that all contact had to go through her, because she didn't want anything bad being said about her to them. Huh? I reminded her that she owed us money, some from as long ago as nearly 2 years. I was told that I was mistaken, misguided, and fucking wrong. Wha? I expressed that I was disappointed that she hadn't honored her word in really thinking about how it would affect the kiddo before she made any major decisions. I was told that I am a controlling bitch. WTF?

So...apparently I am the only sibling who is psycologically functional in my family. I blow a fuse on occasion, but never the whole damn structure-wiring. I mean -- didn't we all stop doing the "I can rationalize things any way I want and there won't be any consequences!" thing at, o, about 14-16 years old? At the latest?

I still don't get it, although I have seen her do it before. I had hoped, though, that at nearly 35yo, she had matured. Makes me sad.

In true adolescent fashion, I got an email this evening telling me that I am blocked from her email. And I notice that I have been removed from her MySpace.

In light of the overt asininity, I felt obligated by self-preservation to go through and change all my passwords, etc. In this state, who can say what destructive urge she might have? And all because I tried to talk to her like an adult.

Damn.

The part of me that's pissed off almost wants to grin at the thought that she will eventually realize what she left here: our great-grandmother's rocking chair, a picture our mother drew for her, all kinds of collectible stuff...I think I'll likely get a call or email when that little illumination hits. Of course, those will still be here, along with the kiddo's toys, of which she left most.

*sigh*

I am very grateful to have my real family around me: my partner, the kids, the dogs. They keep me sane, take care of me, and put up with me. I try like hell to do the same for them.

Wow, this got long. Feel a bit better, tho, which I guess is the point.

Gotta remember: Don't lend money to family - ever. No more house guests for more than a week.

If I ever try to go against those rules, please, feel completely free to club me in the back of the head with the nearest blunt object.

What the fuck are they thinking?

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 15:01:00 +0000

I was searching Google.com for something this morning and ran across...atrocities! WrongwrongBADwrong. I can't even begin to describe the evil of what I found or comprehend the mentality of those behind the creation of such travesties.

For peace of mind, let's start slowly.

I have a little dog. I have never had a leetle dog before, only big ones. Big dogs look at you funny - at the least - or, hopefully, bite you right in the ass if you try to put funny clothing on them. Even the ones who give you funny looks will later retaliate by happily destroying something you love as revenge for making them look like a jackass. The exception to this would, of course, be the Standard Poodle. Despite qualifying as a big dog, once you've had your hair cut like that, all pride bets are off.

But, as I said, I now have a leetle dog. He has a sweet, sad face with huuuuge eyes. When he gets a bath or, all the gods forbid, encounters a bit of rain, he shivers fit to come apart. So. He has. a. sweatshirt. Yes. He does. I r ashamed, but the poor little guy gets damed cold! And, eventually, he will have a soft-side carrier so that I can be obnoxious and take him places. "Exfuckyou, what? He's in a carrier. Bite me." And I will poke the rude person with my cane.

I assure you that I will buy said carrier someplace like Walmart. Any necessary attire (cuz it does get cold here and I dread what will happen to Mr. Wimpy in any temp below 60F) will come from someplace like, I dunno...PetSmart or something. In any case, it will never be foofoo or cost more than anything I would buy for the kids to play in.

Those points being made, let's return to the horrible things I found on the intarwebs.

What the fuck are people thinking? I mean, really? I have seen spoiled children in $200 shoes they will outgrow inside 3 months and thought their parents imbeciles. Or toddler girls in $500 dresses. However...it didn't compare.

Funny Fur carries some scary shit. Let's start with the $30-150.00 t-shirts for DOGS! Or the Captain America puppy tote for $265.00.

Are you saying "what the fuck!?" yet?

Then look at the dog beds from the same company. Please smell the sarcasm when I tell you I love the ones for near or over $1,000.00. Yes, I said ONE. THOUSAND. DOLLARS. For a fucking dog bed.

Hey - my giant, king-size, four-poster bed with the double pillowtop mattress didn't quite cost what the most expensive dog bed on that page does. And the dogs sleep just fine at the foot of it. (Well, Rip sleeps kinda under my pillow, but the big dogs sleep at the foot.)

The most frightening thing was the dog fashion show. For those of you having shortness of breath or nightmare flashes of what this might look like, you can see for yourself here. I apologize in advance and but declare myself not responsible for any permanent damage done to your psyche during the viewing of the video.

One of the "designer" participants in the *cough*sputter* canine fashion show *puke*cough* was Emma Rose Design. Just to give you an idea of how skeery and empty some peoples' lives are, this, um....gown?...was one featured in the show. It goes for $2900.00. Yup. Reread if you have to. $2900.00. I guess you might need a tiny Chihuahua gown sewn with Swarovski crystal if you were going to a high-couture banquet.

In hell.

Little dog brain

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 12:48:00 +0000

Yes, it's a dog post. Bear with me.

I have big dogs. I have always had big dogs. But, I am slowing down, have a restricted lift limit, and am damned tired of being wounded whenever the GSD decides she reallyreally wants to see the whateverthehellitis waaaaay over there and screws up my back with minimal effort.

So.

I brought a Rat Terrier into the house. Ripper (hey! he has to get confidence from somewhere!) weighs 5.6lbs. True to form, like anything I pick out or that lives in this house for more than 24 hours, he's afu. Markings aren't standard, ears are wonky, things like that. I am hoping that at least the ears straighten out. The "things like that" are only likely to get worse.

The reason for this post is to wonder, ask, shake my head in disbelief, at the fact that Ripper seems to be insane. Are all little dogs like this?

I have raised many large breed pups. Bouncy, hyper, silly -- but they seem to have some type of built-in sense. They may eat a shoe or 12 while learning what is "good" to chew on, but I have never seen one reason that as long as it came out of an acceptable toy, it's ok to eat that head-sized pile of stuffing. Or go into the little garbage can after it 14 times despite reprimand.

Big dogs are clumsy. They skitter and slide across the kitchen floor until people are stifling laughter while trying to comfort the crestfallen pup. But they learn after the first couple of times (usually) where to slow down. Our Nougat never runs on slick surfaces. Ripper has slid around the same corner so many times now that he is missing fur on one shoulder where he slams into the dogs' toy crate at the end of his tile-skate.

Puppies love bugs. It's a fact. They are small! and move! and end up getting paw-thumped mercilessly. However, I have never seen any dog slam their nose into the concrete in order to kill them. Again, and again, and again... As I type, he has found an upturned beetle, which he has managed to nose slam about 10 times now, only to shake his head in a panic when the bug latches onto said nose.

Don't get me wrong. Ripper is actually very smart. He has been here a week and is mostly house trained, sits, fetches, and comes when called. He knows when food happens, what is kewl to chew on (except for that stuffing issue) and is the only dog in the house who will actually sleep in in the morning if allowed. He learns quickly with clicker and treats, even if he is distracted easily on occasion.

I just wonder if the little bits of insanity are normal. Or, I wonder if it's someone's secret job to go around gathering small-breed pups and beating their heads on a rock til they are just kinda...not right. You know, until they get that perpetual cute-and-brainless look on their faces. "Yup, Joe, this one's done. Time to put 'em back! Quiet now, so no one suspects."

I can't imagine any other reason that any thinking being would willingly stick their whole head into a mouth full of giant teeth large enough to encompass half their body. Maybe the echo is kewl?

So which is it?

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 13:40:00 +0000

Dove is doing this massive "Campaign for Real Beauty" and raising money for a "Self-Esteem Fund" for girls. Yay! Right? Um...I r confuzzled. Dove runs commercials in magazines with supposedly "real" women, then there's shit about the women being airbrushed, just like every other bullshit model in publication. The supposed Selp-Esteem Campaign espouses "free[ing] the next generation from self-limiting beauty stereotypes." Go parent company, Unilever!

Wait a minute. Unilever? Aren't they the same bastards who make Axe with their nice girls gone bad campaign? I gotta admit, the Naughty to Nice video had me giggling; I found the charge of riding a naked man like a pony - against traffic, and imprisoned for a lewd act with an electric mixer, amusing as hell. But...definitely not self-esteem inducing material for girls or young women. Even worse (though funnier still) are the vids found when clicking "Huffing" and "Igniting" on the "Use Axe Responsibly" tab of the About Axe page. (Sorry, there was no direct linkage available.)

I'm an adult with a brain. I can separate the dippy, short-skirted, very-non-role-model brunette in the "Igniting" video from, say, Lt. Col. Eileen Collins or Lauryn Hill. My 9yo can't. She only sees that the pretty woman is on tv and having fun. She has kewl clothes and people are looking at her. She has no clue who Lt. Col. Eileen Collins is (first female space commander for NASA, for those who don't know - use your damned internet, for fuck's sake!) Then the 9yo (Jo) sees the Dove Self-Esteem Campaign video on tv, which first flashes all those images of women as drool-fodder, followed by a little girl sitting on a couch looking a bit shell-shocked.

Does Jo get it?

Not particularly.

It's a bit over her head and a little inundating with the imagery for her.

Does it give her alternatives to the tidalwave of negative imagery?

Nope.

And, irony of ironies, it's followed by a fucking Axe commercial.

Bastards.

Head hurts now

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 22:14:00 +0000

Found on craigslist:

DOG must go

Reply to: comm-*************@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-07-09

1 year old, spayed, *** mix, free. She is a large dog, about 60 pounds and goofy. She is not fond of cats and has an unreasonable hatred of poultry (emphasis mine), thus she must find a new home. She would be great for a poultry-free home with older children.
***

Nope. Not kidding.

An unreasonable hatred of poultry...Makes one think, doesn't it? When I first read that, I just automatically assumed it to mean chickens. Live chickens. But, ya gotta remember that we are dealing with a posting on craigslist. The poster mentions "cats" in the vernacular, so why not just say "chickens?" Or why not "felines and...poultry...?"

Does said dog chase cats and chickens? Or does she just chase cats but go into convulsions at the mere sight of a Chik-fil-a sandwich? How about if ya came home with Zaxby's on your breath? Would it be time to say goodbye to your favorite slippers?

Lastly, why the "older children" comment, I have to wonder. Maybe the poster assumes they are more likely able to control their poultry-consumption urges...or less likely to come home with stray chickens in tow...?

What the fuck?

Damn Aliens

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 02:40:00 +0000

Sometime this week Ask And Ye Shall Receive is going to review this blog. When I submitted WoD for review, things were going well. I was looking forward to said review. Then, shit fell apart.

In the last month and a half, we have lost 2 family pets who had been with us for a number of years. One literally mourned himself to death after losing his brother not long before. It was heart-breaking. The other found her own way out when things got too bad due to old age. My heart was shredded. We also have another long-time pet (nearly 10 years) who is feeling and showing the effects of old age. Arthritis, memory issues, possible strokes...we know she likely won't be with us long and it's killing me. I dread what it will do to the kids when she goes.

My sister's life went to hell. I drove up and helped her pack up and move to SC with us. First, let me explain the connotations of my driving that far. I have been hit 4 times, none of which were my fault in the least. The whole trip was one giant panic attack, although I am such a control freak, no one quite knew it...I hope. Then, let me explain that "with us" means that 2 more people, a cat, and their stuff moved into an overstuffed 3/2 apartment that already harbored 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 dogs, and 4 rats. The existing high chaos level was immediately doubled...trebled...multiplied by an insane amount. Add to that the issues of children who aren't used to one another, a dog who is ailing, a woman and kids mourning dying ratties, another woman stressing over finances and finding a job...It would likely have been easier to have dropped a bomb on us and had done with it than to have sorted things out in any sane manner. But we got through it day by day and even managed to laugh.

But find time to blog? Um, no. Not happening. That I even managed to drop the occasional mindless picture up here was amazing to me. Sorry that it wasn't more, but I was trying to stay sane and not murder anyone in my household or become a statistic in the local newspaper.

Two ratties passed away in horrible manners and we found a home for the remaining two who had originally been brought in as company for the oldsters. So what the hell do I do but something completely insane. I brought in a puppy. Yes, faced with the recent death of my little ones and the impending passing of my sweet Nougat, who has been a lot of my emotional stability through surgery and chronic pain for years...I brought a puppy into the house. I know it's a major avoidance move, but I did it anyway. I added to the chaos. But I adore the little guy, and he will make Nougat's ever-quickening slide into staring, drooling, oblivion somewhat easier to deal with. Think what you will, I take all the blame.

My sister found a job out of state and left this evening. She didn't say anything until she was ready to pack the car as she was afraid to...I don't know what. Hurt my feelings? I don't know. I will worry about her. I will miss her. But, for better or worse, things are back to "normal," or as close as we get to that state in our house. For the next two days, at least.

My partner had a family member pass away last week and is out of town for the funeral. She doesn't know my sister is gone. I still get to relay that message and that she doesn't get to say goodbye. And I still get to cry. Gonna be a long night.

So. Despise my layout. It's ok, as long you can give me a better suggestion. Hate my puppy pictures. They stay. The dogs keep me sane and occasionally keep the rest of the world the hell away from me. Criticize my recent flake-out on regular posting. It's all good. I got through the last month with my sanity intact and the kids sans tape marks.

By the way, I challenge anyone else to do this with a GSD's head on one arm and a terrier ear lying across their trackpad. *grin*

Rare moment of Quiet

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 17:08:00 +0000

Rare moment of Quiet
Originally uploaded by TheStormcarver

Maia and Ripper after about 6 hours of play, finally fell asleep. I think I may have to follow suit.

Da Update

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 15:51:00 +0000

So I haven't updated in a bit -- at least not in words. There have been a couple of pictures, but that is kinda like cheating. When you read this, you might understand.

What's up? you might ask...well, here goes. This is the current roster for our house: One workaholic woman. One woman looking for a job. One poor boy who is used to basically being the only kiddo in the house trying to adjust to being the youngest of three (and about to be four). One teenaged boy trying like hell to be a teenager and not one of the kids. One nearly 10 y.o. girl in the midst of boys who can't figure if she is sweet or bitchy, a child or a teenager. One 14 y.o. coming in on Wednesday who is a toss-up. He will either be sweet as spun sugar or Satan's favorite child. We never really know which one will arrive for visit. You can guess which one I want to show. Then we have the really old bitchy dog who seems to be slowly losing her grip on reality. And there's the 2 y.o. German Shepherd with too much energy and occasionally not enough sense. We also have a 3 month old Rat Terrier who is finally getting that the GSD won't eat him and the kids aren't his chew toys...but has a minor panic attack every time he isn't within 5 seconds of touching distance of me. Add the new upstairs neighbors with a Pit Bull they treat like old luggage. They think they are, somehow, very kewl black men instead of nerdy white guys and try to compensate by being 400 times more obnoxious than most human beings.

And, last, you have me. I....want much more medication than I currently have. A short-lived coma might be nice.

Can you say "Baker Act?"

So, I promise, in the midst of the additional chaos, to post more often. I think I have become immune to at least some of the higher-than-normal winds of insanity. At least, I think I can hold onto something while I type with the other hand.

~Stormcarver

The Ripper

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 14:18:00 +0000

Jul05_0001.jpg
Originally uploaded by TheStormcarver

The new dog. What the hell have I done?

Maiaslife

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 04:00:00 +0000

Maiaslife
Originally uploaded by TheStormcarver

Click comic to view larger, or click here for anyone having an issue with Flickr.

Yes, we're still alive

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 23:12:00 +0000

I made it to Indiana and we packed Ivee and the kiddo up. We managed to get lots into our 2 vehicles and got all the way back to Charleston in one piece...or three pieces, if you count all of us who made the trip. Or, I guess, hundreds of pieces, if you count all the stuff. Anyway, it's all good. We are in the process if organizing, moving around and getting used to each other. There is much laughter.

On the drive to Charleston, a jerk driver sped past us while I had the shift with my 7 year old nephew, Camren, in the van. When the other driver cut off someone ahead of us, I couldn't help but yell, "Asshat!" Camren looked at me in all seriousness and asked, "But the nice people are just hats, right?" I about had to pull off the road giggling.

A couple nights ago, Ivee, J, both short ones, and myself, sat on the back porch amidst tickles, rhymes, games and muchmuch silliness.

Ivee's cat has learned to effectively torture our German Shepherd.

Last night, Ivee, our 15 year old (Lee), and I watched the Grindhouse movie -- at least Planet Terror through the "previews" before Death Proof. We likely kept the neighborhood awake past 2am giggling our asses off and making fun of the silly previews.

At the moment, I am watching Camren and Lee smack each other in fun while Lee holds Camren upside-down in a chair on the back porch. Camren's laugh is infectious and wonderful.

All is good.

"Don't tickle me anymore!" Camren just yelled. "I'm gonna fart more!" Ogods. not more!

~Stormcarver

The Big Shuffle

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 27 May 2008 15:57:00 +0000

Posting is likely to be sporadic for the next week or so. Seems that the universe is not to be denied any longer and evil must be unified. Things have happened that lead my dear sister to move to Charleston with us...this coming weekend. Yes, short notice, but much better than no notice at all when packing is concerned.

So, on this end of things, we are rearranging household while she packs hers. Unfortunately, this leaves little time for posting...if room for the computer in the midst of a true whirlwind!

Will try to keep you updated, and will definitely let you know when major earthen plates are tempted to crack in twain with the weight of so much mischief in one place.

I should be leaving Friday or Saturday so as to tote stuffs back.

Wish us luck and much good traffic karma, as, yes, we are driving!

A Day from Hell

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Sat, 24 May 2008 02:50:00 +0000

Please let me tell you about my day. It started out as most ordinary days around here do. I got up, got myself and the boy ready, had to remember my pies for the carry in today at work. I actually made it to work with a few minutes to spare. Which in today's case is amazing since Mark wasn't here to help get things like Camren's lunch done.

So work was normal. Busy with a few hillarious moments in between the chaos.

My real fun started after work. I had to pick up Camren, then drive a half hour to pick up Cody, and then another half hour to pick up Camren's friend. Of course during all of this I realize that I need cereal and milk for all their breakfasts and wonder if I can make it in and out of the store with three boys and live. I felt like such a breeder. I know I am but all the boys including the one that isn't mine seem to all look like me. On the way in the store, a cashier on her afternoon break asked if all of them were mine. "Oh God no!" was my reply. At this point I now know that I look like a breeder.

The cereal and milk turned into cereal, milk, and yogurt. From one end of the store to the other I dragged those boys. Knowing the entire time that I had to pee so bad and none of them could keep up.

Finally, in the car on the way home, everyone survived and is being good. What more could I ask for? The younger two went outside to play while the oldest and I watched a DVD home movie of his Florida vacation.

Relaxing and not so terrible you think? Here's the fun part. Cody (the oldest) had to go to the bathroom, so I paused the movie. He walks out of the bathroom with a horrified look on his face.

"Don't unpause the movie Mom, come here so I can show you something." He tells me on his way back into the bathroom.

Now mind you with the twisted joke track record this kid has, my first thought was "Great. I'm walking into another ball showing joke."

But then I took a closer look at his face, as he raised his shirt. He had somewhere around 30 red bumps from his belly button to his boxer line. Chicken Pox? Nope. He's had them twice. Chiggers, scabbies? God who knew. But I had the little ones to think about too.

So he calls his dad and step mom and no answer (apparently they were too busy sitting in the jacuzzi to answer the damn phone.) Come to find out, when they finally did call back, that step mom and his little sister have the same bumps. Thanks for telling me BEFORE he came home.

So I decide that he needs to go to the ER to see what these bumps are so the little guys don't end up with it later. Now dad wants him to go 45 minutes to his hospital when mine is 5 minutes away. I won that argument. Had to call Camren's friend's dad and drop the two of them off with him. There was no way I was taking all of them to the ER with me.

Finally got to the ER and about an hour later the doctor tells me that it's insect bites. Bed Bugs or Fleas. Just wanted to kill his dad. At least the bumps don't itch and he got a script to clear it all up.

The fun part at the ER was when the nurse told my son to get dressed and he's standing there in his little hospital gown and boxers, swaying his hips, singing, "Sweaty balls, sweaty balls, I got sweaty balls." I told you he was a little preoccupied with them didn't I? Thank God the nurse didn't hear or see him.

Then leave the ER, go to Camren's friends house and pick him and his friend up, and all go back home. God I'm exhausted. And it's somewhere around 9 o'clock.

The highlight was, of course, telling his step mom that they might all have bed bugs. She freaked out. Striped all the beds, got a magnifying glass and has called me four times, because she has no clue what to do. I made her freak out and that makes me happy.

Off to bed for me now. I'm really hoping that tomorrow when the two younger ones leave at 11 that it will calm down. Oh, who am I kidding? I should know better then to hope for something that clearly never happen in my life.

~Iveevyne

Hmmm, what color should we paint the walls?

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Thu, 22 May 2008 01:31:00 +0000

Do we like the new background color of the blog? I don't know. Could you even tell it was different?

I find CSS color charts impossibly restrictive, full of dark colors I couldn't possibly read through. Instead of normal charts, I started here. Then I played with it a little bit.

I couldn't even guess what color this is, exactly.

Give me your opinion. Do ya like it? Is it too girly, too subtle, wrong for the header...nauseating? Chime in. If you have a suggestion, I will try it and post screen shots, or put it on the "About" page for a day. I would like to stay in the purple/blue/mauve-like family, and fairly light, I think.

While we are on the subject, is there anything that would make reading or searching easier for you. Am up for suggestions.

Let me know.

*Offer is limited. Subject to approval. Limit 3 per customer. Expires 5/25/2008.

~Stormcarver

Afternoon Storm

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 20 May 2008 22:57:00 +0000

A pre-summer storm just blew through here like a preview of hell. It was amazing and beautiful. In 10 minutes, it dropped a shitload of water, blew trees like it was testing their tensile strength and then, joy of joys, there came the hail! The fun part is that the teenager had, not 5 seconds before the hail, just come in from taking out the garbage. Good thing, or there would be fresh dents in his head.

I caught a little of it, just before the hail, on my cell phone. (Remember that I have no camera until we can manage to replace the camera's battery and charger. *growl) Sorry about the quality, but you can see the tortured trees and the sheets of rain rolling through.

And afterward, the amount of water that was left behind:

The sky was amazing:

Just one of those things that makes you glad you're alive and in a state to appreciate it.

Thanks for sharing with me.

~Stormcarver

Yeah! A Long Weekend Ahead!

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 20 May 2008 19:51:00 +0000

So some good news for the weekend. My brainless boyfriend is going to Erie, Pennsylvania to visit with his kids. He's leaving Friday and will return Monday. My youngest, Camren, is spending one night at a friend's house. So that will leave my oldest, Cody, and I at home alone.

This never happens. EVER!

One thing I should mention, is that him and I are so much alike and we have the same twisted sense of humor.

A few weeks ago he informed me that he was developing hair in his not so public areas. He doesn't feel comfortable talking to anyone else in the family about his puberty issues, which I can completely understand. But the boy is a little preoccupied by this new hair.

"Mom! Mom! Don't you wanna see it?"

No really I didn't want to see it. I told him that I was a mom and I didn't have to see it and it was ok and normal. Oh, how wrong was I. I should have just looked at it. I went and took a shower. Opened the bathroom door to my 12 year old standing in the hall waiting for me with his shirt pulled up, his balls pulled out of the leg of his boxers, saying "Look Mom!" Laughing his little head off. He couldn't contain himself and fell to the floor. I felt like I was in the movie "Waiting."

That ladies and gentleman is my bright, loving, hysterical 12 year old.

He got me, got me good. I have to admit it.

I have to have a sense of humor to live in this house. The cat and I are the only females here (yes, she gets a vote too.)

I'm really looking forward to this coming weekend. I know that we will laugh so hard our sides and cheeks will hurt.

My boys keep me young!

~Iveevyne

My Fat Ass

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 20 May 2008 13:52:00 +0000

I quit drinking soda recently. I needed to, having been a habitual drinker of the sugar and carbonation since earlier than I have clear memories. Plus, the doc has made noises about bone density and other things that are negatively affected by soda, and since I am getting older...*sigh.

I had been led to believe, by what I now assume to be mean, vicious, ill-spirited people, that quitting the soda habit would lead me to the golden path of losing weight. Seeing as I drank between 1 and 2 liters of soda per day, I could see the logic in that much less sugar intake leading to weight loss. OK, then. Let's do this! I thought.

It's been almost a month now, and I think I have had less than 5 single-serving sodas. During the first week, I was elated. I lost 3 pounds! Now, I am having a few hunt-down-and-wallop feelings about those no-soda-lose-weight proponents. I not only gained those 3 pounds back, but they were joined by a new friend. *grumble*growl*

I was bitching about the weight issue yesterday morning when J and I were leaving to take Lee to his counseling appointment. She usually just scowls at me and gives me hell, declaring that I am "too skinny" to bitch. Yesterday, though, she changed tactics.

"So how much do you weigh now?" she asked.

I fucked up and told her. I immediately regretted it.

J actually took her eyes off the road while driving (a big nono when chauffering a trafficphobe!) and looked at me. It was the type of incredulous look that you would give someone who told you they just fed you cockroach casserole. My jaw dropped.

"You don't look like you weigh that much!" she said, trying to smooth things over.

How the hell am I supposed to take that? I can't figure out if that means "Damn, you look good for your weight," or "I didn't realize you were such a fatass!"

Until a few years ago, I have always been thin. After a few incidents that involve the vehicle I was in being a random target for assaholic drivers, various permanent injuries stopped me from being as active as I had been. I gained some weight. I was ok with it, mainly because I didn't have a lot of choice. And I still looked good. Then came last year.

Last year, we moved from Jacksonville, FL, to Charleston, SC. Charleston has some of the most amazing food I have ever eaten in my life. During a week-long visit prior to moving, I actually gained 10 pounds! In the moving process, I lost 4 of those. Since then, there has been no movement on the scale until the last month. Even taking up walking as medically directed, improving my diet, and tossing the soda habit haven't moved the scale in the negative direction they should.

I am thinking that I need to turn to prayer. Or maybe the paranormal. Think some random, benevolent spirit would be willing to take the extra poundage for me? I damn-well hope so, because, at this point, it looks like it's either that or home liposuction, and I hear that can be messy.

~Stormcarver

China 1, US 0

stormcarver@gmail.com (Stormcarver) — Tue, 20 May 2008 02:01:00 +0000

Today, China began 3 days of mourning for the victims of last week's earthquake. Three minutes of silence were observed by everyone in the country in respect for the dead.

For the duration of the mourning period, flags will fly at half-staff and all public entertainment is suspended. The government has directed a nationwide display of respect for the dead. Even websites are limiting their content and altering their fonts.

Three years ago, the US suffered a great loss. Granted, China's estimated 34,000 dead without doubt dwarfs Hurricane Katrina's 1464 victims in 2005. However, those less than 1,500 were no less deserving of respect than are the 34,000 in China. No one life is worth more than another. Numbers don't make tragedy more or less tragic.

Hurricane Katrina was a disaster for the US. Moreso was the US government's response to the tragedy. FEMA couldn't coordinate a pre-school field trip, let alone aid on a massive scale. Our illustrious president (smell the sarcasm?) couldn't be bothered to return from yet another mini-vacation.

The American-people-at-large banded together, in the form of donations of items, money, and time, to help in Louisiana. Many are still doing so. We have not forgotten. And still...

Where was that mass outward show of respect for the dead? Where was our national pride? Certainly, our government was no example and offered no direction.

I hate to bring it up, but we didn't even come together in this way as a country over 9/11. We were all walking around stunned, traumatized, and yet, we couldn't coordinate 3 minutes to stand together, as a country, to honor either the victims or the heroes. And three days? The hell you say! Close theme parks, theaters, malls, restaurants? Economy uber alles, right? Three days is too much to give up over anything short of a death in your own family, if then! (Again, smell that sarcasm wafting through?)

I have so much respect for China at this moment that I'm tearing up. In comparison, I am ashamed. I don't think it's hard to figure out why. America, the USofA, supposedly the greatest country in the world, cannot match China in valuing its own citizens.

Something needs to change.

~Stormcarver