Posts

Showing posts from February, 2007

United We Stand

Image
This email was forwarded to me after I complied with the demand to send an email to some friends regarding "Vixen's" theatrical talent. It was good to know I wasn't alone...

Email received: 1:07pm, Saturday, April 20th, 2002

Just thought you should know you have my support!

-----Original Message-----
From: Darcie Nelson
To: Donna, Kara, Tami, Laurel, Scott, Tammy,
Jackie, Glen, and the DucknappingPsychos
Subject: Vixen

It has come to my attention that the "Vixen
Remark" that was emailed to each
and every one of us was produced under serious
circumstances. I feel that,
as friends and supporters of Patsy aka Becky
Willems, we should stand united
and put the pressure that we know we can on this
self-named "Vixen" and
force her to return Becky's beloved rubber duckie

Patricia

Unfortunately, it did not go over well with the ducknappers...

Email received: 4:00am, Tuesday, April 23, 2002

from: Duck nappers
to:Donna, Kara, Tami, Laura, Darcie,
Jackie, Scott, Tammy,…

Mavis

Image
Ang says I always know what to say, but I've been thinking about this post for the last week and I still feel like I don't have the words to really say what is in my heart. All I know is I wish I could call Mavis on the phone and hear her laugh. I wish I could bring Ben and Sam over to her house to play with all the toys there. I wish she could come out to Yorkton this weekend and hang out with me and watch girl flicks.

Mavis just always had a way of making everyone around her feel happy. That sounds so trite and it doesn't really cover it... It was like you could be happier with yourself and with the people around you just because you were with Mavis. Everything seemed nicer, funnier, and just lighter around Mavis. And I miss that.

Today when Glen comes home from work I'm going to go buy a helium balloon. I'm going to drive out to a field and remember how her life touched mine and how she loved the people around her. Then I'll let it go... And when I see it'…

Squeaka! Squeaka!

Image
Email Recieved: 1:28 am, Saturday, April 20th, 2002

THE DUCK WILL LIVE? HEH HEH.

WHAT KIND OF SWIFT AND PAINFUL RETRIBUTION CAN A
COUPLE OF GRANDPARENTS GIVE?

LIKE WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED?

YOUR LETTER DID NOT SCARE US ONE BIT.
DIDN'T EVEN MAKE OUR TEETH CHATTER.
UNLIKE YOURS.
OR IS THAT JUST THE SOUND OF THEM HITTING THE GLASS???

GO PUBLIC? WITH WHAT? WHO WILL BELIEVE YOU? WHO
WOULD BE IMMATURE AND
JUVENILE ENOUGH TO KIDNAP A RUBBER DUCK AND
DEMAND RANSOM FOR IT? WHAT KIND
OF SICK, STUPID MINDS WOULD THINK OF SUCH A THING?

WAIT.

STRIKE THAT LAST PARAGRAPH.

ANYHOW, THE POINT IS, WE ARE IN CHARGE.

AS THIS PHOTOGRAPH WILL DEMONSTRATE, YOUR VAIN
THREATS HAVE ONLY FURTHER
ENDANGERED THIS LITTLE YELLOW BUGGER'S LIFE!

ONE SQUEEZE AND HIS 'QUACK' TURNS TO A 'QUACKER'.

WE WANT THE MONEY.
OR NO DUCK
START TALKING.

Help.

Sam is puking now. A lot. A very lot of lots and lots. He's not as good as Ben was at telling us when the puke is coming. He's also not as good as Ben was at just lying around empty and tired. He screams and cries for drinks and bottles and then pukes up whatever we let him put down there. I don't know how, but we managed to make it all the way through Ben's first year without him getting the stomach flu and so I am feeling completely out of my element here. Do I just keep pouring stuff down him and letting him puke it up with the vague hope that he will stay a little hydrated and happy? Or do I restrict what he puts down there with the hope that it will keep him from throwing up over and over?

Sigh. Suggestions people?

The Grandparents Get Involved

This email was sent out to everyone on my email list by my dad at 5:55pm, on Friday, April 19, 2002. It was titled: The Duck Will Live.

We do not know the identity of the "duck (small d) nappers" but rest
assured, should any harm come to our grandduck,
the retribution visited on you will be swift and very painful (and
public) to the said nappers. We are not sure if you understand the vengeance
that will be visited on you, but a grandparents wrath is only second to
the wrath of a woman scorned.

Grandma and Grandpa of the Duck.

p.s. Freedom for our baby required by Saturday April 20 5 p.m.
or we will go public. Do not delude yourself into thinking that because
we entered this fray at this late date we do not love and care for
our little grandduck. We are willing to post a 5 dollar reward
to anybody with information leading to the identity of the said villain's.

Baliesa

Image
Here's my sister-in-law Melissa, who, aside from being a great Aunty, is so pretty it hurts to look at her sometimes. I've been wanting an excuse to post this picture for a long time and she gave me one on her blog the other day so here it is. (Honestly, Johnny is such a lucky guy.)

Things Start Looking Desperate

Image
After doing my best to comply to the ducknappers demands, including arranging a pretty durn good meat and cheese tray...

Email Received: 3:39am, Thursday, April 18, 2002

HOW DARE YOU INSULT US!!!

DID YOU THINK THAT YOUR LETTER WAS CONVINCING?
DID YOU THINK THAT WE
WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO SEE PAST THE QUOTATION MARKS?

WHERE IS THE TIGHT TSHIRT PROOF?

WHERE IS THE RUBBER BUM CHEWING?

WHAT IS UP WITH THE CHEESE SLICES?

DO YOU THINK THAT WE ARE KIDDING???

JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE AN AMATEUR DOES NOT MEAN
THAT YOU CAN DISREGARD OUR
DEMANDS.

THEY JUST INCREASED.
YOU WILL NOW
PROVIDE US WITH THE FOLLOWING...

SINCE YOU ARE SO TRIGGER HAPPY ON THE CAMERA..
WE WANT...

1. A PICTURE OF YOUR BARE LEFT FOOT.

2. A PICTURE OF A BELLY BUTTON.

3. A PICTURE OF SOME BUTT CLEAVAGE, AND THIS
PHOTO MUST BE
SENT TO ALL THE FOLLIES WITH THE CAPTION,
"Does my butt look big?"


IF YOU FAIL TO PROVIDE US WITH THESE PHOTOS
BEFORE FRIDAY AT 5 PM,
WE WILL PULL THE TRIGGER!

The Glories of Parenting

Ahhhhh... The wonder and beauty of the middle-of-the-night, child-pukes-all-over-your-bed spectacle. The sights! The sounds! The smells! And oh! The retching. The glorious retching.

Moan. Poor Ben. Poor Glen. Poor, poor weak-stomached, high gag-reflexed me. (Okay, mostly poor Ben. But that was seriously bad people. It was more bad than Grey's is good.)

Things Get Scary

Image
Email Received: 2:50 am, Tuesday, April 16th, 2002

YOU WILL NOT CALL THE SHOTS.
YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE DEMANDS, YOU BIG
CRY BABY!
THE ONLY ASSURANCE YOU WILL GET THAT YOUR
PRECIOUS DUCKY JUNIOR IS ALIVE, IS
THE PHOTOS WE PROVIDE YOU.

(...besides, we tried the phone, but the little
runt doesn't make any
noise!!!)

AND IF YOU CHOOSE TO DO ANY MORE NAME CALLING,
OUR DEMANDS WILL JUST
CONTINUE TO INCREASE.
DON'T MAKE THIS ANY UGLIER THAN IT ALREADY IS.

IF YOU WANT TO SEE DUCKY JUNIOR BACK HOME SAFE,
YOU MUST COMPLY TO THE FOLLOWING DEMANDS.

NUMBER ONE
YOU WILL PUBLICLY DECLARE THAT VIXEN IS THE
TRUE SHINING LIGHT OF THE
YORKTON PERFORMING ARTS SCENE
AND THAT HER TALENT IS NEEDED IN A LEAD ROLE
IN THIS YEAR'S
COMING PERFORMANCE. (We will settle with an
email addressed
to many people)

NUMBER TWO
YOU WILL CHEW YOUR RUBBER BUM.

NUMBER THREE
YOU WILL STOP WEARING TIGHT TSHIRTS.

NUMBER FOUR
YOU WILL PROVIDE A PHOTOGRAPH OF A CRACKER
AND CHEESE TRAY,
ARRANGED IN CONCENTRIC CIRCLES AND
SURROUNDING…

The Terror Takes Hold

Image
Email Received: 4:34 am, Monday, April 15th, 2002

NOW THAT WE HAVE YOUR ATTENTION:

WE'VE GOT THE DUCK,
AND WE PROMISE YOU HIS QUACKY LITTLE A#% IS GRASS
UNLESS YOU COMPLY WITH OUR DEMANDS.

THIS IS NOT A JOKE, EVEN THOUGH WE WERE TOLD YOU
LAUGHED WHEN YOU SAW HIM.

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT THE RCMP OR DUCKS
UNLIMITED.

AS YOU CAN SEE FROM THE ATTACHED PHOTOGRAPH,
WE ARE SERIOUS.

UNLESS YOU INDICATE YOUR WILLINGNESS TO
COOPERATE,
SQUEAKY HERE WILL BE SERVED AN ENTREE OF
SANIFLUSH.


WE NEED A RESPONSE FROM YOU BY 5 P.M. TODAY.
DON'T TEST US ON THIS. OR
WE WILL TEST THE SANIFLUSH ON THE DUCK.

Closure

Image
Today begins a series of posts that I have been meaning to write for a very long time. I was reminded while visiting Denita's blog today, and I think it's time I stop putting it off. Why have I been putting it off? Part of the answer is that it was a very traumatic part of my past... A part of my past that I have tried very hard to put behind me...

Sometimes in life we get comfortable with the people and things we love. We take for granted that they will always be there and we take for granted the fact that we are safe... That our homes are places where bad things don't happen. We believe that the people we invite into our homes won't hurt us. We trust them not to take advantage of our kindness and openess.

A few years back that trust was broken by some people I had believed were my friends. They turned my world upside down when they put someone I loved in danger. Why would people I cared about do something like that? What could motivate a "friend" to come int…

For Carrie

Image
I swear this blog isn't supposed to be just a place for me to post pictures of my kids. (That's why they each have their own blogs, so mine can be about me sometimes.) I tried, but couldn't resist posting this picture of the disembodied hand feeding Sam some birthday cake.

Sambo: First Blood

Image
It's about time. You would think with all the rifles and hunting knives Glen leaves lying around here Sam would have managed this months ago.

This sucks.

I hate word verification. I drives me bonkers, but we are all going to have to put up with it for a while. I've been getting a lot of spam lately, all from the same source. I'm hoping that after a while whoever is sending it will give up. Because I hate word verification. So much.

But I hate spam more.

My Valentines

Image
Since yesterday was Valentines Day I was compelled to do yet another photo shoot with my little buddies... I was going to post these pictures on the boys' blogs, but they are just so cute I can't resist putting them up here. Let's all just take a moment and say together, "Awwwwww...."


Can you feel the love?

I Heart Noah

Image
Happy Birthday to the best Valentine's Day present EVER!

Photo shoot, shmoto shoot.

Image
I have a lot of things on my mind right now and none of them that I am ready to put on this blog. So, instead you get a story about my boys and a couple of pictures to go with it...

When Ben was Sam's age I did this photo shoot with him in a Leaf's sleeper for my dad. I got some cute pictures. In fact, although I'm biased, I feel that I got some of the cutest baby pictures of all time. Here's one of them:
Since I have this beautiful, adorable, precious picture of Benjamin, I decided it was time to take one of Sam. I dressed him up in the same sleeper, arranged him on my bed and did my best. The results:
And:
Sigh. Now, don't get me wrong. The kid is cute. Really cute. And I love his little face and everything about it. But he's fried.

Is it really too much to ask to have one beautiful, perfect picture of him? Is it?
Apparently.

I just dropped a chip down my shirt.

Well.

Image
That did it.

So here's the thing...

Image
Heh heh. Just kidding.

Here's the real thing...

I'm sick. Ben and Sam are also sick. I want to sleep, but I can't. I want to lay like broccoli, but I can't. I want to get better, but I'm not. I want to write some fabulous post for all of you out there, but I can't. So you get this:

I can't wait for Grey's tomorrow. I really don't think I can. I think I actually might spontaneously combust before the show comes on, but if I don't then I really think the commercial breaks will probably finish me off. The previews alone are driving me completely insane. It's all I think about. I want to see what Izzy sees. I need to. I really don't think I can make it.

Sorry people. That's all I've got. A star to the first person to correctly find and identify the famous quote in this post. (Sorry, Marc. I'm stealing your game again. I can't be original when I'm sick.)

One of those days...

... That makes you want to cuss, loud and long.
... Where everything goes wrong and nothing goes right.
... That turns your house into something off of an Oprah episode about women who live in filth.
... Where the sound of your kids crying tenses up every muscle in your body into one tight throbbing painful ball.
... That feels like it is NEVER GOING TO FRICKIN' END!

End already you stupid, crappy day.

She's Got Chakins

Mom's blog got all fancified and moved to a new address. For those that are curious or just bored and looking for a way to use up some time here it is:
mrsbeasely.blogspot.com

Wild Times

Image
I keep trying to think of a way to make this post more interesting, but it's just not happening. So, contrary to the title of this post, prepare yourself for a random discussion of the stuff in my backyard.

Like Carrie, I don't really enjoy our yard. There are so many shrubs and landscaping thingies full of stuff that I don't recognize plus tons of weeds that I do recognize that it just feels so overwhelmingly junky. At least we got rid of the ponds. The stench from those bad boys was not doing anything to make me want to spend time back there. Plus they really freaked me out. They were all full of sludge, which I seemed creepy to me. What were they trying to hide? Our yard seriously reminds me of this one house that Laj Waldner and Jeff VandeVord told me was haunted when I was a little girl.

Anyways. I wish I had a naked yard. Just grass and nothin' else.

Yesterday though, I liked all of the bushes. They seem to attract a lot of wildlife. Fancy wildlife. Not just sparro…