Most people store food in their freezers. Others hide jewelry or money in them. My Mom stores "neat" dead animals in them.
She found this baby weasel in the driveway. I'm not sure why she decided to keep it, possibly because she wanted to show it to all her friends.
This is so natural for her that she didn't even warn me. I opened the door, looked to my right and found myself eye to whisker with this frozen animal lying on a bag of broccoli and cauliflower. Mom just giggled and then proceeded to pick it up and show me how cool it was, along with a description of how its long body was curled up..."like this."
I'm not kidding.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Talking to Mom on the phone now...
She had another bear incident last night. Mom let one of her dogs, Boo, outside to pee when Boo ran down the road, barking. Mom jumped in her car with a gun and a rechargeable jumbo flashlight in time to see a bear chasing Boo down the road. I'd like to point out here real quick that most people wouldn't respond to a barking dog with a loaded rifle, cheap ass flashlight and a quick drive in a dented Subaru down the road. But this is my Mom here, a woman who spread rumors of a militia in her neighborhood during a taped news interview. But that is a story for another day.
Anyway, so Mom yelled, "hey hey hey" at the bear causing it to stop and run in the bushes where it sat staring at her. She heard more noise in another bush and then some woofing and a baby bear crying. It's no wonder either, I can imagine her throaty yell is quite scary to anyone, let alone a baby animal. It is somewhat blood curdling and often causes the hair to stand on my arms. After 30+ years I'm still not used to it.
I guess Mom's bro, Uncle S. is planning on making bear salami.
Anyway, so Mom yelled, "hey hey hey" at the bear causing it to stop and run in the bushes where it sat staring at her. She heard more noise in another bush and then some woofing and a baby bear crying. It's no wonder either, I can imagine her throaty yell is quite scary to anyone, let alone a baby animal. It is somewhat blood curdling and often causes the hair to stand on my arms. After 30+ years I'm still not used to it.
I guess Mom's bro, Uncle S. is planning on making bear salami.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
First, An Intro. The Good Stuff Comes Later
Faythe here.
I'd like to give a quick little background on my parents before I begin writing stories about them on here. Having that kind of information will make it easier to see exactly where and how I got my own kind of Crazy from.
Let's begin with my Dad. He was born in Oregon in 1930, the youngest of 5 kids. He went to college, moved to Southern California and became from what I understand, a technical writer. When L. Ron Hubbard first started up Dianetics, my Dad got involved and was one of the first people to start taking classes in the late 50s. I don't know how long he was into Scientology, but it wasn't for very long, and if you ask him about it now he thinks they're a bunch of kooks. My Dad was very shy, and he still hadn't yet gotten married at the age of 41 when he met my mother in 1971.
My mother, on the other hand was born (in 1953) and raised in Los Angeles, the middle child of 5 kids. She graduated from her second high school (she got kicked out of the first one--I can't remember what she did, but by today's standards it was pretty tame) and met my dad through a personal ad in the paper. At first she thought he was too old, but when she realized she could get out of the house if she eloped with him, she thought that was a great idea.
And so, after my parents got married and my mom moved out of her parent's house, they decided to move. For some reason they figured they'd move back to Oregon, but not just any old place. My Dad wanted to live out in the middle of nowhere, and so when I was 9 months old, my parents drove up to Oregon, found 12 acres of land in the middle of nowhere and my Dad got to work building a house, which took 4 years to complete. I lived there for 17 years until I went to college and moved to Eugene. My parents decided to move to Eugene as well, and our old house in Deadwood has since completely collapsed and nature has taken it back. I think this says more about my Dad's building skills than anything else...
Living such an isolated life for so long can really amplify the Crazy. Also, if you weren't Crazy before, it'll make you Crazy. My parents may have lived in Eugene for over 15 years so far, but I'm not kidding when I tell you it doesn't matter. Which is why I find Rayleen's situation infinitely more amusing than my own because her Mom is dedicated to the country life, will live out there until the day she dies, and it's only going to get worse!
So! Stay tuned for my next entry where I write about examples of my Dad's fear of doctors and where that leaves him!
Oh, and I just want to add that despite how crazy my parents are, I myself would have no problem living near them again. In fact, I mention this to Ryan once in a while and he just about has a heart attack! Something about how everyone he's ever met from Oregon is a wacko and how he could never live in a state where there's so many wackos in one spot.
I'd like to give a quick little background on my parents before I begin writing stories about them on here. Having that kind of information will make it easier to see exactly where and how I got my own kind of Crazy from.
Let's begin with my Dad. He was born in Oregon in 1930, the youngest of 5 kids. He went to college, moved to Southern California and became from what I understand, a technical writer. When L. Ron Hubbard first started up Dianetics, my Dad got involved and was one of the first people to start taking classes in the late 50s. I don't know how long he was into Scientology, but it wasn't for very long, and if you ask him about it now he thinks they're a bunch of kooks. My Dad was very shy, and he still hadn't yet gotten married at the age of 41 when he met my mother in 1971.
My mother, on the other hand was born (in 1953) and raised in Los Angeles, the middle child of 5 kids. She graduated from her second high school (she got kicked out of the first one--I can't remember what she did, but by today's standards it was pretty tame) and met my dad through a personal ad in the paper. At first she thought he was too old, but when she realized she could get out of the house if she eloped with him, she thought that was a great idea.
And so, after my parents got married and my mom moved out of her parent's house, they decided to move. For some reason they figured they'd move back to Oregon, but not just any old place. My Dad wanted to live out in the middle of nowhere, and so when I was 9 months old, my parents drove up to Oregon, found 12 acres of land in the middle of nowhere and my Dad got to work building a house, which took 4 years to complete. I lived there for 17 years until I went to college and moved to Eugene. My parents decided to move to Eugene as well, and our old house in Deadwood has since completely collapsed and nature has taken it back. I think this says more about my Dad's building skills than anything else...
Living such an isolated life for so long can really amplify the Crazy. Also, if you weren't Crazy before, it'll make you Crazy. My parents may have lived in Eugene for over 15 years so far, but I'm not kidding when I tell you it doesn't matter. Which is why I find Rayleen's situation infinitely more amusing than my own because her Mom is dedicated to the country life, will live out there until the day she dies, and it's only going to get worse!
So! Stay tuned for my next entry where I write about examples of my Dad's fear of doctors and where that leaves him!
Oh, and I just want to add that despite how crazy my parents are, I myself would have no problem living near them again. In fact, I mention this to Ryan once in a while and he just about has a heart attack! Something about how everyone he's ever met from Oregon is a wacko and how he could never live in a state where there's so many wackos in one spot.
Friday, September 12, 2008
All attachments from Mom potentially NSFW
Though the Red Circle has its physical limitations, Mom has learned how to use email and invaded cyberspace. When it comes to the Internet, there are no boundaries. I get photos like this all the time.
I don't know why she thinks I want to see "huge bear poop." I believe her when she says there are bears in the backyard. Do I need to see their shit? Apparently so. Maybe she wanted me to see the blackberry seeds. You know, just in case I am doubting her story that she is NOT baiting them with buckets of apples. Wait, do I see apple chunks?
I don't know why she thinks I want to see "huge bear poop." I believe her when she says there are bears in the backyard. Do I need to see their shit? Apparently so. Maybe she wanted me to see the blackberry seeds. You know, just in case I am doubting her story that she is NOT baiting them with buckets of apples. Wait, do I see apple chunks?
Welcome!
We all have quirky family. If you don't, shut the hell up, Liar Mouth!
As I grew older and moved away for college, I realized they wouldn't interfere in my life if I lived at least an hour away from them. To visualize, imagine a map of where your family lives. Now, take a compass, draw a circle around them that represents an hour drive. This, my friends, is the Red Circle of Death. For me, if I were to live in this circle, life as I know it would cease to exist and I would become....well, crazy. Crazier. Whatever! If I draw another a half hour out, I would be in Yellow Circle Danger and everything beyond that is Green Circle Go.
Right now I live in Green Circle Go, considering I'm in San Diego and they all live in Oregon. But in about a month, I'll be moving up north and...get this...will live on the border of the Red and Yellow circles.
I know!!
So I decided to start documenting all the craziness. I have invited my best friend Faythe and my poor sister Aimee to participate. Aimee has lived in the Yellow Circle for the past couple years and yesterday moved to Our House on the border. Faythe lives in the Green Circle but we all know how nutty her parents are. We expect to have a lot of interesting things to talk about. I hope you enjoy our venting as much as we do! And it's cheaper than therapy...
As I grew older and moved away for college, I realized they wouldn't interfere in my life if I lived at least an hour away from them. To visualize, imagine a map of where your family lives. Now, take a compass, draw a circle around them that represents an hour drive. This, my friends, is the Red Circle of Death. For me, if I were to live in this circle, life as I know it would cease to exist and I would become....well, crazy. Crazier. Whatever! If I draw another a half hour out, I would be in Yellow Circle Danger and everything beyond that is Green Circle Go.
Right now I live in Green Circle Go, considering I'm in San Diego and they all live in Oregon. But in about a month, I'll be moving up north and...get this...will live on the border of the Red and Yellow circles.
I know!!
So I decided to start documenting all the craziness. I have invited my best friend Faythe and my poor sister Aimee to participate. Aimee has lived in the Yellow Circle for the past couple years and yesterday moved to Our House on the border. Faythe lives in the Green Circle but we all know how nutty her parents are. We expect to have a lot of interesting things to talk about. I hope you enjoy our venting as much as we do! And it's cheaper than therapy...
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