Hmh

Okay, first of all, let me just get this out of the way and then we can move onto the more exciting and fun things of the day -

MY FOOT HURTS REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD THIS MORNING.

There. Got that out of the way.

Oh, the swelling is gone. In fact, I'm back to having two completely normal looking feet attached to myself. Yet, there is still much pain. Much. When the swelling was present, the pain was on top of the foot. Now that the swelling is no more, the pain is on the bottom of the foot in the heel. This is plantar fasciitis. If Mr. Native American Doctor didn't think I had it before, well I do now. And it's a bitch.

I woke up at 1:40 this morning because I had to pee something fierce and when my right foot hit the floor, my knees buckled and I nearly went to the ground. Fortunately my bedroom is small and we have enormous furniture, so I was able to brace myself against the wall and various pieces of furniture until I got to the doorway. Once I got to the hallway, I hopped on my left foot. Yeah. Picture me hopping to my bathroom, full bladder, wearing only a t-shirt, mooning the heck out of my sleeping house (Thank God they were sleeping!). I'd hop and groan, hop and groan. I sat on the toilet panting, not from the exercise but from the pain. No kidding. I have had three children, two with no drugs, and it wasn't that bad of an experience. But this - this HURTS like a motherfucker, people. When I got up this morning I had to put some pants on so I wouldn't moon Jill and Chandler when they got here and oh, putting on pants without being able to put any weight on one foot is a hilarious event to watch, I'm sure. Anyone who would've seen me do it would've laughed their asses off. I, however, was not laughing. Okay, I was doing that laugh/cry thing where you start to cry from the pain and frustration, then you realize what a ridiculous situation you are in and then mix in giggles with the sobs.

I called my mom's work number so I wouldn't wake up my sleeping sister and her family, left her a voice mail to call me, then sat in the recliner, sweating and waiting for Mom to call. When she called she was very sympathetic, but she didn't know what to do any more than I did. I guess I just needed my momma to tell me I'd live. She said she'd had it before when she was younger and it lasted about a month. From what I hear and have read, that's about how long it takes plantar fasciitis to get better.

But here's the thing: I am working out, doing my dead-level best to make my body healthier. Yet, working out is aggrivating the hell out of my "condition". Damned if I do, damned if I don't. ACH!!!!!

Okay, venting over.

************************

Our kittens are 6 weeks old now. My niece has waited so patiently for hers, too. So when Sunday rolled around, their six-week birthday, she was all fired up to take her kitten home. When I mentioned this to Mr. Diva he informed me that they are too little to leave just yet. And to be truthful, they are pretty small. They're healthy and playful and they're eating some solids, but they still aren't very big. Sis was miffed that we were making her child wait longer and I even volunteered to explain it to TotOne, but what could I do. I'd rather make TotOne wait a bit longer to take home a healthier, bigger kitten rather than take home one too soon and it die and oh then there would be much drama.

But I think any worry about those kittens not being ready to make it on their own was vanquished this morning when Abby went out to feed the cats and no sooner made it out the door when I heard her screaming "Oh good Lord in Heaven!!! Ooh!! Oooh!! Yuck! Yuck!! Put that thing DOWN!! Lordy, Lordy!! OH I'M GONNA BE SICK!!" I naturally busted out laughing at her exclamations and then headed out to find out what caused them. She was standing on the carport, hand over her mouth, eyes as big as saucers, watching 4 of the 5 kittens go to town on a fairly good-sized field rat. I'm sure the mama caught it for them and brought it up for them to munch on, as all good mousing mothers do, but in Abby's mind that was just wrong, wrong, wrong. She said, "Oh gosh, Mom!! They're just - just - EATING it!!"

Of course, the other 3 kids had to have a gander at the scene and of course, they all groaned, oohed and ahhed. Then when the kittens were thoroughly worn out from wrestling and eating a dead rat almost as big as they are, they all went to their momma to wash the rat down with some warm milk. Abby gagged and said, "They have blood on their mouths and she's just letting them suck. on. her. TITTIES!!" I put my arm around her shoulder and just ushered her back in the house. She's playing her GameBoy now, but occasionally she'll wander in here and make some dry comment about the nasty kittens and their nasty habits.

*********************

Karen, my blogsister from Karbon Kounty Moos is hosting the Rascal Fair today. It's a Montana thing. Check out what she put together for it. It deserves a blue ribbon for sure! And she included some honorary Montana bloggers - Sam, Babs, and me, to name a few!

*********************
Speaking of fairs . . .
Now, for all of you who have some vacation time left, y'all mark off the 3rd week of August. That's when Ottawa County holds their Annual Free Fair. The fair is a big deal around here, lemme tell ya. There are enough FFA jackets at the fair to make Napoleon Dynamite proud. FFA, 4-H, FCCLA, Extension Office, not the mention the political candidates and businesses vying for your attention - it's an exciting time. I think the only year I missed the fair was when I was pregnant with Kady and it was just too hot, but even then, Mr. Diva took the kids. Heck, I even went to the fair with a kidney stone one year! That's how big of a deal the fair is around here. My first date was to the fair even! We walk the livestock exhibits and get cedar shaving in our sandals, we smell the "dairy air", pet the hogs and sheep, see just about everyone we know, get our fair share of ballons, rulers, pencils and rumor has it, my uncle's crew will be slinging snow cones again this year. I don't let the kids ride the carnival rides because well, there are carnies there! And if your relative is a carnie, or you are one yourself, I apologize for any stereotyping, but man . . . you gotta admit, it's easy to do.

So anyway, last year, in an attempt to instill a sense of hometown pride and bolster the attendance at the fair, the Fair Board put together activities throughout the week in conjunction with the fair. A lawnmower race, a concert, I think maybe a buck-out or something like that, etc.

Well, you can only imagine my excitement when I heard over the 4th of July weekend that this year, they will also be hosting

A DEMOLITION DERBY!!!!

That's right. A freakin' demolition derby. The Elks didn't hold theirs this spring and I was beginning to wonder if it was going to be a derby-less year, but thankfully the fine County Fair Board folks that held the key to my happiness, well, turned that happiness key in my happiness lock and well, I'm one happy redneck. Lots of happy around here.

My friend, Jeff, who has one other derby under his belt and who was actually going to let me drive his car Powder Puff that first year (but it fell through) told me he has an Impala for me if I can only find a tranmission. In our derby watching we have found that Impalas make for some heavy-duty demolition cars. Not sure why, but they hold up amazingly well and that's what I wanted. The Derby gods saw fit to bestow an Impala on me this year. A few weeks ago we saw Andy ("Hightower") and asked if he knew where we could find a transmission for it. He has one!! Could it get any better than that?????? Last night Andy mosied up to Shannon and I while we were talking and I asked him again about it. He said he was saving it back for me still. Score!!!

So now, I just have to make the magic happen. Oh, not me personally! I wouldn't know where to stick a transmission if my life depended on it, but it's up to me to make Mr. Diva insert said transmission into said Impala and - well, nothing else seems to fit here - git 'r done. Hmh, that was strangely satisfying. Git 'r done. Who knew?

So anyway, anyone who will be around towards the end of August you've just gotta come by and see the show!! Visit our little fair, have a snow cone and some cheese on a stick and then come watch me voluntarily smash the hell out of my car!!