This is a random minute of my time over the past week or so. I would never have thought of it except I was just picking a scab on my leg. Which reminded me of how I got it.
We were building a new feed bunk at work and I was recruited to help. Because of my experiance working with Dad my current boss expects me to know what I'm doing. I'm not completely helpless because I have logged a decent number of hours in construction. But I just completed the jobs as I was told to do them. I had never tried commit everything to memory. Or anything, for that matter. I wouldn't even gone out of my way to figure out how or why.
Stick this board exactly ten feet below the trusses using the screws out of the green box (not an actual senerio I would suggest well building *G*)? Consider it done. Just don't expect me to know why I'm doing it.
But if nothing else I know how to reverse a screw gun and what a snap tie is.
So on with my story. We were using chunks of plywood instead of forms to build the dividers in the bunk, and I was put on constructing one of them almost in the complete. Which was fine. I had it all up and then had to drill holes in the plywood for the snap ties. So I put the massive drill bit on and start drilling. It wasn't real easy since the boards kept sliding around, but I was getting it done.
So I straddle the board I was trying to drill and I'm excerting as much pressure on the dying drill as possible when it broke through. Which is good. Another hole done. Only this time I had stupidly placed my leg directly behind where I was drilling.
I barely felt the bit on my leg and started immediately pulling it back. But it wasn't coming very easily.
Oh man! I've stuck the bit in my leg! And now I'm in shock and I can hardly feel it.
Pull, pull. No I'm not panicing. Oh yes, I am, this is stupid.
My aunt stuck a chunk of rebar through her leg and pulled it out thinking it had just gone through her jeans. That's what's happening to me!
K, boss can't see. Hang on, if I can't walk boss should definitely see.
Quit pulling!
K, look down see how bad it is.
I honestly expected my jeans to be soaking through with blood, and I kept yanking with various degrees of irrational thought the whole time. Ends up just the pointy end of the bit had jammed into my leg and the rest was just twisted up in my jeans making it hard to pull out, which was why I thought it was in the skin. Had I taken time to think it through, it would take a whole lot more then the pressure I was putting on it to stick the thing in my leg so quickly.
But it's a bit odd. To think that I, along with the rest of the human race, is prone to panic and shock.
It was just funny. 'Cause it's the closest I've ever been.
And one thing about doing construction at work. Makes me figure the more I know that better. My boss seriously asked if I'd want to build my own house. At the time it seemed ridiculous. But hey, he says it's one of the best things he's ever done.

So my Mom is celebrating her fortieth b-day today. I put together for her use something that she needs muchly. I presented her with a midlife crisis starter kit. I tell you, it was freaking embarrassing buying some of the stuff in there. The silver lipstick was somewhat so. But was nothing compared to the second-hand lingerie (I don't even know how to spell that) or the wanna-be leather skirt. The funky hair streaks were a bit odd too. As I tip-toed up to the counter with my curly mop of hair looking like I'd just crawled out of bed. Which I had. Yup, it was good fun. If mildly insane.
One of the items she is now the lucky owner of is a hideous yellow bikini with pink flowers. When she was showing them to her friends this one prompeted much comment. One of the popular ones was that she should wear it. Or that they knew someone who would want it if she didn't.
One lady said, "I wish I wore a bikini when I could." She was completely serious too. Like she was honestly sorry she didn't.
This caused Meg to giggle in my ear, "You never know what you'll regret, eh?"
It made me think, what if I get to be fourty and wish I had spent my teen years prancing about in halter tops and mini skirts? It's stupid how one innocent comment can make you reconsider your morals. If you can, why shouldn't you hang-out at the beach in nothing more then panties made out of swimsuit stuff? Heck, you're only young once.
Well, I really don't like the thought of guys looking at me for more then who I really am, for one. And if wearing something less then decent will cause them too sin then it's a sin for me to do so. covering up is the most basic of morals. It's my body and will be that way unless I get married. And were I to, it would be only right that I'd have saved it for him.
Well, that and I'm just entirely not a halter top/mini skirt girl. :). Dressing as such would be anything but real to myself. I'm much more at home in my bluejeans and tank-top. Or cargo shorts and plaid shirt.

You know how it is to be little. You have friends over, but have spent the last ten minutes in your room crying. Then you come out, and try to be brave. Put on a front. So you smile. But it's so fake, it just falls off. Because there's nothing you feel like doing less then smiling.
Yesterday I was low. The last couple days had been crap. Although don't take the excert above to mean I cried. I didn't. I sometimes think I've forgotten how to cry.
But today has been considerably better. Thank God.
And on that happy note, I announce the first birthday of my blog. It's wack. Didn't I just start this thing last month? Or was it a decade ago? You could tell me either and I'd probably believe you.

I live in a small town. And, as of yet, I don't drink. I'm sure you can figure out that means that you have to be imaginative to find new and exciting stuff to do.
Before I get going I'm off on just one tangent. I'm not saying that there's much more to do in the cities, other then club, which is the same difference as drinking. So I'm just pointing out that I'm not dissing small towns. Oh, and sometimes a good concert or something will come in, but whatever. In large there's not much more to do. Just more stuff to get involved in, if that interests you. But there's stuff to get involved in here too. It's just a point of getting one's butt off one's couch. You just might have to choose between judo and karate instead of judo, karate, tae-kwon-do, ju-jit-su...you get my point. Plus here you've got the lake, the mountains, need I say more?
Tangent over.
So tonight we went to the gymnastic's year end show. Hey, it's something to do. And talented gymnists never fail to amaze me. Meg and Mom (who decided she was coming) piled in my car and we hit the highschool.
In large it was kinda slow, and a tad boring. But some of it was worth watching. Yeah I'm glad I went. It was impressive, to a girl like me. But let's just say we're not currently producing any olympians.
So it was getting dark when we got home. But Meg had to show me her "handspring". Ends up she can kinda do them. But they're not what I would call a ten. I don't think I saw her do any where she landed exclusively on her feet. Still, I had to give it a go. So away I went. Within five minutes I had scuffed arms, grass stains on my jeans, and an ankle that was landed on funny. But the thing is I was giving it.
When I learned breakfalls for judo I had to train myself to keep my right leg staight. so now it's coming back to haunt me since I kept only getting my left under me.
We got on the trampoline and after a few minutes any agility I had in my youth started coming back. I was nailing handsprings and landing flips. But, heh, the extra bounce you can get on a trampoline kinda helps. Plus, it's a lot easier on the body to land wrong on there then if you try it on solid ground.
My triumph of the night was back handsprings. I've never done them before in my life. But once I got over the throwing myself backwards onto my face with only my hands to stop me I could do them well.
The feeling of power, people! The feeling of power. I told you they were fun. And, man, they are.
Meg was pumped after a week of keeping heavy on the textbooks. And it was good for her.
So, now I just have to teach myself to do them on the lawn. I have a lot of learning to do.
But there is a general point to this post. It's gymnastics in the cold air, the rapidly growing dark, barefoot, and with rain drizzling around you. You can feel the blood pumping through your fingers. Your sister is encouraging you, and you her. You take turns flipping your body through the air, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. Always coming back ready for more.
Gymnastics after dark in the rain.
It would be hard to beat as far as feeling alive.

Yesterday I made my first mix of the year. After loading the corn I moved onto the haylage, and promptly jammed the conveyor belt. This is one of my favourite pastimes. So I had to haul myself out in order to change the hoses around, so the conveyor would go the other way, see. And something about the smell of haylage, and oil, and diesel, and whatever other foreign substances come on a mixer reminded me of last summer. Made me feel like I was going to stop at the river on the way home.
So maybe I don't mind making mixes all that much.
Well, except I just about went in the ditch within the first ten seconds.

Good Charlotte, I just want to live is playing on msn radio right now. And after that it's Linkin Park. So I'm sitting here thinking of what I can possibly write after spending time doing just about every other meaningless computer task that I can think of.
My family has just gone to bed. Even Meg has closed her book and turned in. Not before her incredibly hilarious Megan-the-geek impressions. I think I'm about the only person that has ever seen them. And I'm probably about the only person who would appreciate them. The sad part is they're almost half true. She just needs some thick rimmed glasses. But they're so funny!
She is almost comparable to Harold off the red green show. He's about my favourite character. Red green is a boring personality. It's his stunts that are a laugh. Where as Harold just a hilarious guy. Common. Can't you picture him now.
"But Uuncle Rrred. I don't know if officer Jim would like that. Aheaaa."
I hope you've seen the show and can imagine him saying that. He's a blast!
What else? I'm not working a lot of mornings right now. I just have long afternoons with extra farm jobs. I'll be driving the mixer. I hate driving the mixer. Last year during the two weeks that I had to do so I hit just about everything within a ten mile radius.
My older boss usually does it. But he's off to Korea. Lucky guy. But he deserves it. He's been up with me or Cheryle every morning since his two weeks last year.
I hope I'm retired by time I'm his age. If I'm not then I'll probably be bitter.
And my songs are over. So I'm off to home. To stay up as late as I think I can get away with. Seeing as I don't have to get up for the next couple mornings.
Then again, I don't have any books right now. And what else is there to do in this life if one doesn't have any movies, books, or a computer?
That sounded really lame.

Lately I've been having a re-occurring dream where I'm able to do handsprings. Different circumstances, settings, ect. But I'm able to bounce onto my hands and back onto my feet again. Let me tell you, it's so much fun!
It's not really surprising that I'm dreaming this. I've been moaning the my inability for a while now. I'll see a stretch of lawn and want to do more then a "handstand", or "cartwheel". This girl wants to be able to handsprings!
Moaning is about all I'm doing, though. I don't have anywhere to learn it. And my biggest excuse is quite good. I'm eighteen. Is this not the age where most girls are quitting gymnastics? So if most girls are getting to old for it at this age then I'm certainly not about to start trying something new.
Also, my various groups have gone through several gym spurts. I was always the one that couldn't do it. But no one can say I didn't try. Look, if I can't learn at ten there's no way I'm going to do it now. At one point our family would clean up after church, put away the chairs, and then Dad would coach us as we lined up and tried them over and over again. It was great, until I messed up my hand pretty good on one go. I wasn't getting anywhere anyway.
Not that any of us succeeded, beyond Joe. Well...Meg was telling me yesterday that she can do them to. But, I gotta say, I'm gonna have to see it to believe it.
"I'm sure I remember trying it at the park. I think I'd land on, like, my feet...or butt...or back...or something"
O.k. If that counts then I guess I can do it too.
Hey, interesting fact of the day. Both my parents were something of gymnasts in their teens.
So, elusive handsprings. I'll keep whining about how much fun they would be. But if I could master them...I'd probably start pouting about wanting to do flips

Ladies, I have found him. Imagine my excitment at this entry under misc. in a copy of Hoard's Dairyman,
26 year old, homeschooled, Christian man
seeks wife. Part owner of 200 cow dairy.
Intersted girl or parents may e-mail
addy here
he's maybe a little older then I'd imagined. But a girl like me needs a mature man. Especially one who's settled on the family farm where he was raised at the kitchen table and in the church. And a guy that would advertise for a wife. That is sooo hot!