Oh Lord, Is This Really My Life?

So, you are getting multiple posts today. For one thing I feel guilty about the ads. For another thing, I am bored out of my mind. I feel like a caged animal. I want to go outside in the beautiful weather before it goes away, but instead I am stuck here on the couch. Luckily I am easily amused once I can distract myself.

Take for instance the ads on my blog. I know actually writing about them is only going to make it worse. But, the crap? Menopause? Low Testosterone? Now I have advertisers trying to diagnose my hormone problems. This is so awesome and humiliating all at once. I only really have myself to blame. Now I am on a mission. I must write about enough things to upset the balance I have already created here.

This will be the ultimate test of my evil genius. I can see if I can predict the ads from my posts. Since I have already subjected all you peeps to multiple posts of randomness, I can't imagine this will make much difference. Oooh, I know. Let's talk about my mom's careless flaunting of power tool safety.

For starters she told me a story the other day about how she saw a neighbor out in the yard mowing his lawn. So she sneaked up behind him to startle him while he was backing up. I laughed hysterically and can't even remember what the actual story was about because I could totally see her doing that. Not a thought of what might happened if he tripped and upset the mower, just pure excitement and getting to make someone jump. The best one was when I went out into the backyard to ask her a question and found her up in a tree.

She was standing in a flower bed on a small 3 or 4 foot stepladder, hanging onto a branch for balance with one hand and a chainsaw in another, while cutting another branch out of said tree. Go back and reread that last sentence and see how many wrong things you can find with that. Shocked and horrified, I yelled at her to get down from there and asked her what she thought she was doing. She said I was being overly dramatic and I had nothing to worry about because she had done it before. I just turned around and went back into the house.

These are only the things I know of. My mom is an awesome carpenter and works with tools all the time. She even built a wall in our old house. And the garage remodeled into a family room was built by her and her father. He had a little carpentry shop in his garage and to this day the smell of cedar reminds me of him. I have no idea where that gene went with her children. I know I don't have it. I can't even hang a picture without help. As near as I can tell both of my sister-in-laws do any building type projects around my brothers' homes. Maybe it is just skipping a generation.

OK, let's see if I can get some Makita ads, Ace Hardware or Home repair. Is it sad that I find this more than a little exciting?