Subourbon Mom


Playing Opossum (Beware: sensitive content)
January 28, 2021, 6:00 pm
Filed under: Country Living, Misc. Humor | Tags: , , ,
Peaceful, country living….what I thought it would be all the time.

Some of you may remember my old blog post about trying to humanely euthanize a chipmunk.  Well, apparently that’s a life lesson that I’m not getting right because it keeps happening. First it was a baby rabbit, then the chipmunk, and now an opossum.

But first let me tell you, my city-dwelling and suburban friends, there are a few things you have to get used to when you move out to the country:

  1. The number of guns casually (or purposefully) left by front and back doors
  2. The volume of sound that woodland insects and frogs produce from March to November; whoever called it “night music” clearly never tried to sleep with their windows open
  3. The number of leaves that drop in the fall – sometimes it can be mesmerizing, like falling, brown snow; then you remember you have to shove them all back into the woods where they belong, like the arborial warrior you are.
  4. Snuffling and coughing from those pesky Virginia allergies because you simply must enjoy hours of amazing bonfires (and because some HOA said we couldn’t have them for 15 years so, dammit, we’re burning every weekend)
  5. The number of critters that don’t care that you would prefer that they stay away from your precious piece of land: bugs, “nope-ropes,” (snakes), mice, trash pandas and coyotes, just to name a few.

Which brings me back to numbers one and five in the list, and the opossum.

One day this fall, I was watching the dogs bark at something in the woodpile.  I figured it was a nope-rope because Lily the Terrified has been bitten at least four times. Honestly, I was just happy she was outside. For weeks she and her sister Holly, Opener of Packages, had been staying inside because Lily was scared of falling acorns. 

Back to the woodpile.  

An hour later, I was pulling the car out of the garage when I noticed something lying in our gravel driveway.  It was an adult opossum. The poor thing had been eviscerated but was still breathing. This was beyond just “playing possum” – the end was obviously near.  

After I got done cussing the dogs out, who were standing by waiting for praise after their conquest, I ran through my options:

  1. Go back inside and make dinner without using butter or anything else from my list (not an option – I would never be able to leave an animal suffering out there like that);
  2. Run over the poor beastie with the car (not a chance – it was facing the wrong way, and that would have been even more cruel);
  3. Put it in the freezer like I did with the chipmunk and let it pass away quietly, but who knows how long that would take and I didn’t want Hubby making fake opossum calls to me saying it’s “C-c-cold” again; or,
  4. Whack it with the shovel and throw the body in the woods.  

I opted for the shovel.

I’ll spare you the details, but it took more than one whack for the job to be over.  I’m the world’s worst executioner.  For the record, I said a prayer, apologized and told the opossum I was just trying to make things end faster.  

Later, I called a friend who lives a few miles down the road and told her the story.  She asked, “Did you shoot it?”

Um, no…. because I don’t own a gun.  Even if I did, with my luck I’m pretty sure the bullet would ricochet off the gravel and into me.

Talk about roadkill.

So there you have it folks – before you make the brave move out into the wilderness, life will be different. But for so many reasons, and not just for critter problems, buy a shovel. There are days when you’re going to have to dig your way out of whatever adventure came that day.

*Note: I purposefully didn’t post any cute pictures of opossums because it would make the story so much worse.   



It’s A Recipe, Not A Memoir
January 23, 2021, 9:15 am
Filed under: Food/Drink | Tags: , , ,

First, thanks to everyone for stopping and reading this when there is so much other stuff to read and watch, like TikToks and memes of Bernie Sanders at the inauguration.  I know it’s been a while, but apparently, I’ve been storing up a few rants over the last few months.

 One of my resolutions this year, in addition to just trying to be nicer to people, is to try some new recipes and stop making Hubby eat the same five things every week, plus pizza or cereal night.  Sounds pretty basic, right? Well, who knew that the most challenging part of this would be getting to the actual recipes online!  

When I finally find a recipe that has less than 10 ingredients, doesn’t call for some weird spice (like celery salt) that I’ll only ever use once, and doesn’t contain anything resembling fish oil, I have to keep it together long enough to scroll

down,

down,

down,

through the author’s family history, passion for turning said recipe leftovers into a gross smoothie afterward, and tips for cleaning my house while I stand on my head and cook.

To the people who post recipes online: No one gives a crap about how your grandmother used to clean her oven or that your 5th cousin is from Bulgaria and that’s where the recipe came from. We just need the damn ingredient list. We’re tired from being at work all day and we don’t want to touch anything more in Kroger than we have to, so stop making us scroll with grocery store-COVID fingers.  We just want to cook without ads popping up that we have to close with raw, chicken covered-fingers.

So please, for the love of all things cookery, STOP giving us your life story and just post the damn thing with a picture of the finished product so I can see where I messed up!



Dr. Fauci – The Personal Touch
September 23, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor | Tags: , , , , , ,

I don’t know about you, but lately I’ve been receiving personal voicemails from Dr. Fauci, or at least someone who does a damn good impression of him, offering helpful hints about how to handle the virus. My college-age child also received one of these calls, and frankly, they’re just too good not to share. Of course, the real Dr. Fauci doesn’t have time to make personal calls, but boy do I wish he could…so hit the play buttons and enjoy – you’re not going to hear these on CNN.

I was able to track down Dr. Fauci and arrange for a rare – ok, it’s never happened before – Subourbonmom interview. Ok, calm down. I know this blog is outrageously popular, but it’s not the real Dr. Fauci, and I am clearly no Dan Rather or Barbara Walters. However, I would LOVE to conduct an interview with him for real some day.

No matter how you feel about Dr. Fauci, respect those around you and wear a mask – you don’t know what issues they may be facing or what people they have in their lives that would suffer catastrophic results if they contracted the virus. We flattened the curve – now let’s keep it that way until we have a vaccine available for everyone.



2020 – An Ingrown Hair on Humanity
August 20, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Misc. Humor, Parenting, Travel | Tags: , , , , , ,

Over the last two weeks we have launched one of our birds out of the nest and into real adulthood, and gently booted the other one back into fake adulthood (a.k.a. college).

Launch

During this process I learned a few things:

  1. My kids have a lot of shit – that we helped them move around the country, put up on walls and launder.
  2. They have better decorating taste than I will ever have
  3. If you rent a scooter (think razor scooter) to tour a city, just know that if you sucked at Mario cart, you will also suck at riding one of those
  4. You can switch the way a refrigerator door swings – seriously, I didn’t know you could do that at all
  5. Nashville will either make you start to hate fried chicken or ruin it because whenever you have it anywhere else it just won’t be good enough

One of the funniest things I heard was on the 10-hour car ride to launch Daughter #1 into her new, adult life in Nashville. We had lots of time to talk about what it might be like and what had happened over the last 6 months.  But I think she put it best when describing how a lot of recent graduates must feel around this time as they get jobs or head to college:

Mom, my life has been like an ingrown hair.  For a while I was growing and then I got stuck, but I was still growing, and it got all irritated.  All of the sudden I sprang out and I’ve moved, and I’m free!

From the mouths of babes, people – 2020 has been an ingrown hair of a year.  First it was growing and happening, and then it got stuck, but things were still happening. The world got irritated, but we’re trying to treat it with a salve of Dr. Faucci, the CDC and governors trying their best; with first responders and hospital staff and caregivers; and most of all, with sympathy, empathy and patience.

We’re still waiting to spring out of this craziness, but when we do, the relief will probably feel the same.

(I tried to find a funny ingrown hair meme – please don’t ever do that.  You can’t un-see what comes up.)



Quaran-Tuck It – Exercising
July 22, 2020, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Exercise, Middle Age | Tags: , , , , ,

Like a lot of people, I’ve gained some anxiety pounds during this pandemic, even though I have all the means I need to eat less/better and get more exercise. For the last week or so I’ve been staring at my flapping arm wings and the growing tire around my tummy while drinking wine and eating jalapeno poppers like it’s the end of the world (if you watch the news every night, that’s exactly what it feels like). 

ramen

I knew I had to do something when my sports bras started making it hard to breathe, causing me to question if I have the “‘rona”, until I remember it’s just that extra layer of fat squeezing into the modern-day corset causing the issue. For more on sports bras, read “Sports Bra Removal – The Struggle is Real.”

sports bra 2

Even my exercise shorts, designed to be stretchy and provide lots of leg room, were cutting into my stomach and making my muffin top flop over and nestle against my also-tighter workout shirt.  I basically feel like a moon pie that’s being held too tightly.

One of my Quaran-Tuck It List items is to start doing an exercise regimen in my pool. I’m lucky enough to have one, so I should get my butt in there and use it, right?  I downloaded a couple of YouTube pool exercise videos and started doing them yesterday.

That shit HURTED! (To quote Daughter #2)

I had forgotten how hard it is to run around a pool while swooshing your arms and pretending you’re doing certain dance moves under water. That night I was sore and tired, but that means it’s working, so I’m going to keep it up.

aaerobis

But here are a few tips for those of you who might want to try the same thing:

  1. Check your dignity at the door. You’re going to look ridiculous, even if it’s in your backyard. If you can, get a friend to do it with you – then you have blackmail on each other.
  2. Make sure your bathing suit fits snugly – that 3-year-old Target suit isn’t gonna cut it. I had on my old bikini bottoms, and they were so loose that they kept making a THWOCKA THWOCKA sound every time I jumped around as they scooped up water like a sail, smacking it against my back. It was so loud I couldn’t hear the instructions, and I had to keep stopping and pulling them up again.
  3. Make sure you’re standing in the right water depth – a couple of times I slipped on the ledge going to the deep end and went under. Again, check your dignity at the door.
  4. Don’t try to watch the videos on your cell phone at the edge of the pool. It’s really hard to flap your arms around effectively while squinting at the lady in the video, and also not get your phone wet. I suggest you watch the videos a couple of times and write down the exercises on a piece of paper that you can prop up somewhere – for those of you 40 or older, make it BIG. 
  5. Wear water shoes if you have them – nobody wants those weird red sores from the bottom of the pool on your toes – people will think you have COVID-toes.

Even if you don’t have this on your Quaran-Tuck It List, go ahead and make one.  It’ll help you focus…but be realistic.  “Have sex with Brad Pitt” is not realistic; however, “Dream about having sex with Brad Pitt” is certainly an achievable goal. 

What’s on your list? 

Here are the videos I was using (thank God at least one of those women isn’t a 20-year-old in great shape!):  




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