Quacker, chatter and a story!

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Bryan and I spent a short time putting the words to music for Jayna’s song. I was singing along and had a very difficult time getting through it. Breaking down I realized it’s much better if he just does it alone. He’s now recording it as I type through the tears. Hopefully we can present it to our friends in the next day or two. It’s really amazing how fast things come together when they’re meant to be. I’m going to find a way to eventually put it on my blog! I may have to video tape Bryan and then put it on youtube to make it happen.

Sometimes I have a bazzar process. I start out with a few lines, and end up with some crazy art. Funny thing is I made the Quacker a few days ago, today Pepper and Bryan discovered the ducks in the pond behind my place had babies. They squealed with glee when they saw how adorable they are. Those are the perks of taking the bus. Bryan ran back to grab the camera, but the photos are too blurry to post. We’ll get more soon.

I was thinking what a quacker I can be, a while back my brother complimented me. Apparently he tells all his cronies, that his sister is not a “yes person”, explaining that when searching for a solution to certain issues he comes to me knowing I won't just tell him what he wants to hear, but more less my honest perspective. I guess he likes that, who knew. Truthfully being forthright has caused me a lot of heartache in my life. The positive side ,”don’t ask if you don’t want to know”, I can be crassly blunt. Although I like to think I’m becoming more diplomatic in my old age.

Today I took a garage full of bottles to be recycled. I couldn’t even see the back window of my jeep. We usually keep our bottles in the cases pretty neat, but Pepper insisted on her staff recycling at work, continually bringing garbage bags full of them home. I sorted them at the depot, alone I might add, twenty seven dollars worth of stickiness. A middle aged depot worker glommed on to me, she was chattering away while I piled bottles in crates.Between my bad ear, the clanking bottles and rustling of the plastic she was barely audiable. For the most part she wanted to tell me how she got even with her cheating husband. There is probably a poem somewhere in this story, maybe even a country song!

One day she lured her man to a motel room, set up piles of candles around the room, and then poured him a hot bubble bath and told him to relax. While he was settled she told him she needed to get something out of the van assuring him she'd return quickly. Instead she placed a pair of old fancy underwear tucked between the mattresses, so it was hanging out. Then scooped up all his clothes, his wallet, phone, coat, underwear the whole gamut. Left him alone in the tub, drove to where the other woman worked and dropped his clothes off with her. Somehow he managed to call his buddies at work and asked them to bring him a pair of overalls. When the guys arrived they saw the underwear hanging out of the bed, assumed he got lucky with some random chick who duped him by stealing his wallet and clothes. Who would believe his wife did it? Imagine, the stories you hear at the bottle depot.