...Keeps Falling On My Head...Dee Da Dee

Ok so, it's just a raft so far. But I still think I might have to keep adding on. This shot is of my neighbors back area. Unfortunately it's where they keep their horse, Star. She doesn't have much room to move around anymore; unless she wants to wade through a foot of water.

Get Your Own Ark, This One's Ours!

It's that certain time of year again; that special time of year when the folks in Oregon start pulling out those blueprints for their very own personal ark. Ugh.

After looking up some facts on the 'net, some things kind of surprised me. I mean, I know that it can get pretty wet in the Willamette Valley, but jeesh.

• The average rainfall for my town is approximately 49 inches a year. Is that a lot, I wondered? So...
• My husband thought that his home town in Indiana got way more rain then we do here, but according to what I found out they only get about 39 inches a year.
• Oh and here is the last stat I'll bore you with before getting on with my monologue: Seattle is always being stated as being the rainiest place in the Pacific Northwest, yet they only get an average of 37.2 inches per year.

It's pretty sad when that's all I have to get excited about. We beat Seattle, we beat Seattle.

Did I mention that my roof leaks, too? Yep. One giant drip right in front of the toilet. When I go I have to sit a little sideways on the pot, otherwise I get a ice cold drip right on the top of my right thigh. Gosh, I love renting. (sarcasm, sarcasm, sarcasm)

I just know that it will be my luck that the ceiling will come crashing down on me in a tangled, wet mess of whatever is up there, while I'm doing my thing one morning. I bet that would make the local papers.

But until then, I will go back to gathering the materials for my ark. Then I gotta get some security, because I know that once my neighbors see the awesome ark we built, they are all gonna want a ticket to board.

Navigating the Box of Chocolates is Hard

First of all, I would like to thank the unknown person who decided that it would be a great idea to put a diagram, a map of sorts, in the box of assorted chocolates.

Some of us remember what it was like to get a box of chocolates as a gift back in the day. Feelings of joy, mixed with dread. Joy in knowing that you would soon be partaking in the pleasure of the smooth, rich wonderful, tastebud feelings of placing divine chocolate into your mouth that you wouldn't normally buy. And the dread. The dread of picking up the piece that you'd been eyeing that looked so good, and finding your mouth filled with the one thing that you definitely wouldn't buy on purpose, let alone put in your mouth (my personal ick: coconut. Blah!).

Oh, and the embarrassment when someone would walk by your table or your desk at work, and help themselves to a piece. But upon opening the box they are assaulted with the view of pieces with one bite out of them, or even worse, the saliva covered, pre-chewed piece that you gagged on and spit out.

So anyway, I am thankful for the map of chocolates in my box I received this Christmas. Now my husband can safely open, peruse, and eat all the nut filled, coconut embedded icky chocolates he wants.

Thank you, Box-of-Chocolates-Map-Maker-Guy!