Author: kg4vma

Rhiannon was in a very contrary mood this morning; it seemed like she just wanted to be slightly argumentative about everything. At some point I raised my voice and told her to stop fighting during one of her quips back at Violet. In my mind I followed up with the thought of, “can’t you just accept it, and move on?” And then, I realized that, while I am greatly frustrated by Rhiannon’s desire to argue, counter-point, and be an overall smart-ass at times, I’m honestly quite proud of it; if applied right, those are strengths. I don’t want my daughter to simply accept things blindly; I want her to stand and face things, judge whether the whatever is something she stands for or can stand with. I just need to figure out how to teach her when it’s time to keep her mouth shut.

The kitchen stinks of vinegar, the X-Files is playing in the living room, and Violet is finally having a talk with me.

After a few mornings of the coffeepot complaining while brewing, it seemed like it was time to clean it; so–yay!–a kitchen wreaking of vinegar. But, hey, that means that tomorrow morning I’ll have a kitchen smelling of delicious coffee, again.

Violet didn’t come down for supper, so instead of the recent ritual of dinner in front of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, the TV was tuned to Pluto’s X-Files channel as background filler. The television is still on, playing for an empty room. I went ahead and did the dishes tonight, instead of waiting for anyone else; shortly thereafter Violet came down and sat at the table across from me and started telling me about the past few days while I sat and started to write this entry.

Two highlights from the conversation were her getting upset about someone saying she’s lazy at cleaning her brushes in art class and one of her friend’s  girlfriends broke up with them. Yesterday and today were also days, apparently. I have to say she sounded a bit like me when I say, “meh, it was a day.”

And now, I sit alone, as Violet retreats to her bed.

And now, I am back to where I was when I last sat here, struggling to think of what to write.

And now, I stare at the words I just wrote, and thought about how I hate my avoidance of the use of ellipsis. Ugh. I hate not using those three little periods. But I discovered that when I use them I break something on my home server. I think it’s the gopher server that suffers issues–if not it is a script doing conversion of WordPress things to gemini. I can’t remember. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to run a gopher or gemini server, anymore. Does anyone even bother with tinkering around in the world of the “smol” Internet?

Time to run another round of vinegar through the pot, I suppose.

I wasn’t able to mess with the fence tonight; by the time supper was over it had started to rain. Maybe tomorrow.

My face is telling me it’s time to trim the beard and shave again. Reckon I might do that before I go to bed. Oh, heck with it, I’ll see if the water heater has fully recovered and take a bath, then shave. Maybe I’ll even be extra and boil a few pots of water to dump into the bath–get it nice and hot.

I want more coffee. Guess I’ll nuke some water and take a cup of instant, since the pot is still getting flushed. “In a cup take one teaspoon.” One? No, we need more than that–let’s send our blood-pressure to the moon!

I should be sorting and folding laundry.

Diarium just prompted me, “How was your day?” Sorry, Diarium, I’m writing directly into my WP install. Oh, you didn’t know there was another? No, dear Diarium, you are the other, WordPress is my main lady, you’re the quickie on the side.

Yeah, I don’t know what was up with that. I’m growing tired and delusional. Vinegar fumes might also be getting to me. Lol.

Got the outdoor kennel pallet fence taken down after supper. Unfortunately, that’s about all I was able to accomplish in the time I had. I’m hoping that the weather cooperates tomorrow, and the next day, and so on, to where I will be able to nickel and dime away at my construction process this week. I really want to get that stupid thing finished.

Violet had asked me after supper if we could have time to talk. I sent her a message a little bit ago and she hasn’t responded. I’m guessing she fell asleep. Looks like I get to do the dishes again. I’m growing very tired of this laziness or whatever it is.

I’m kind of struggling with what else I think is worthy of writing down.

I got the chance to play around outside at work today. That was an awesome change of pace. Ivan usually grabs Will to head outside, but today, I got to be the lucky one.

I ran into Zach before I left work. He told me part of some fun they’re likely to be facing overnight. Ashlee told me a little more. The combined stories are that Sarah–who’s been playing overnight coach–is being sent to the front-end, and the recently hired team lead is on her way out the door. As for the team lead, apparently the girl has worked two–maybe three–nights and called in for the rest of her scheduled nights. As for Sarah, Josh apparently gave an ultimatum of either take an orange coaching for performance or go back to the front; she chose wisely. Honestly, I believe things will start running smoother on the front again with Sarah back up there.

I don’t know; I really can’t think of much more to say right now. That, of course, doesn’t mean that I won’t write anything else. I don’t know. I might be back later with some other stupid thought. Guess I’ll wash dishes, in the meantime.

I don’t have much on my mind this morning. About the only thing that is bugging me are the thoughts surrounding my desire to finish that damned fence.

Why do people have to find ways to interfere with other people’s lives? Yeah, sure, I guess that bitchy woman could say something similar in respect to me; it was my noisy, obnoxious dog that was bothering her–keeping her from being able to listen to her precious television. Nevermind the fact that we all live right beside a railroad, multiple other neighbors have loud dogs, and that the cattle in the neighboring field like to bellow at night. Seriously, though, I’m pretty sure it’s just a matter of her being one of those stupid “dogs are people, too” weirdos. Dogs are dogs. God put them on the planet with the notion that they would be able to fend for themselves, be able to survive harsh weather, and so on. It’s only our interference that creates the need to baby them–and to what extent depends upon the degree in which we interfere. The absolute minimum that we need to provide is food, water and shelter–and guess what–I was providing all three, and going just slightly above and beyond in comparison to others.

I gave the dog a 12’x12′ kennel space inside the barn, and a 10’x20′ space outside the barn. Ideal? Not necessarily, but twice as much as space as several give theirs–hell, twice as much space as many give two or three dogs! The outdoor space gave Sophie exposure to sun, fresh air, and grass under her paws; the barn gave her shelter from wind, rain and offered a slightly warmer environment when temps dropped–not to mention the bed of straw I laid on the floor. And it’s not like I constantly left the dog out there; for weeks I brought the dog inside the house–something I hate–when temps dipped below 32°F. My kitchen still stinks of dog.

Am I the greatest pet owner? No. Am I trying to argue that I am? Not really. Am I being responsible? Yes; but whether or not it’s to your liking is a you problem, not a me problem. So, respectfully, stay out of my fucking life.