Sister Wives? Not in my marriage!

Do you think you could share your husband?

With two or more other women?

Who are also his wives?

That’s exactly what is happening on the new TLC reality show, “Sister Wives”.

photo courtesy of Associated Press

 

I admit, I’m a fan of Big Love, the HBO show, a FICTION show, about polygamy in the Mormon religion, set in Utah.

photo courtesy of Wikipedia

But “Sister Wives” is REAL.

It premiered last Sunday night. Even though I’m not a big reality TV watcher, my curiosity got the best of me. I tuned in.

Here’s my take on the situation.

From the outside, the house just looks like one huge home, but really it is three separate homes that are connected. So the women have their own living space but can easily move from “home” to “home” without going outside.

The Sister Wives truly look like they get along and love each other. I can understand this IF YOU REMOVE THE HUSBAND FACTOR. Women can live together peacefully, doing things together. But honestly, how can they get past the jealous factor of sharing their husband? He divides the evenings amongst the wives - 3 nights with #1, 3 nights with #2, etc. On the plus side, the women have 4 nights a week to do what they want, but seriously, knowing your husband is literally screwing your neighbor? That’s hard to handle. For me, at least.

Husband (Kody) married wife #1 - Meri - 20 years ago. They have one child.

Then he married wife #2 - Janelle - 17 years ago. They have 6 children ranging from 5 years to 15 years.

THEN he married wife #3 - Christine - 16 years ago. They have 5 children ranging from 6 years to 14 years, with one on the way.

Truthfully the husband just struck me the wrong way. I didn’t like ONE THING about him.

NOT ONE THING

And now? He’s COURTING another woman!

WTF?

Exactly when does he have time to do this?

Did I mention that the girlfriend has 3 children from a previous marriage?

The show ends with the whole family sitting down together and Kody telling the kids that there is going to be a new woman in their life. Wife #3 explains that the woman will not be their new mommy just yet. Then it shows Kody and the "new woman", Robyn, out on a date. Kody makes a remark that "wives are comfortable with another wife; they are NOT comfortable with a girlfriend." So I guess he has to hurry up in the process of proposing.

I am NOT knocking the Mormon faith. But Polygamy stems from Fundamentalist Mormons who have broken off from the Mormons. Supposedly, the more wives and children you have, the better off you will be in heaven.

I try to respect all religions, but I'm sorry. I  am having a hard time believing in this. I just find polygamy an excuse for men to cheat on their wives. Period.

I wonder if it would be okay if the tables were turned and if the women could have several husbands?

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A day in the life of a farmer - as observed by a city girl

I love the campground where we are currently staying because it is in the country. Our trailer backs up to a farmer's field. We are ten feet away, at most, from his crop. We can literally watch the corn grow. We were amazed in the spring when we were here to watch the little plants grow almost an inch a day! Now we've returned three months later to 10 feet tall corn stalks!

This is the view out the back window of the trailer.

Within a half hour of taking this photo, I heard an engine running. I thought it was a lawnmower. I glanced out the window and saw this.

Something THAT BIG went by and I thought it was a LAWN MOWER? Remember, I'm a city girl! I walked outside to grab some more pictures. I found this jewel left behind.

Oops! It's supposed to look like this:

Some animal is going to have a feast later! Just then I heard a noise and looked up. Farmer John was working his way back to me.

He's getting closer!

There he goes!

Farmer John decides to cut north/south so he comes directly at me with the combine.

He sees me sitting on the nearby picnic table with the camera to my eye and waves to me.

Then he turns his big machinery around and heads east, starting a new row. I think I would be tempted to cut designs in the cornfield, wouldn't you?

I watch Farmer John head back down the row, cutting and stripping the corn all at once.

Pretty soon the field behind us is almost done. The combine is off in the distance, and I can see their farm.

A turkey vulture is enjoying the warm weather and riding air currents above the field.

Farther down from my trailer, I find evidence on a picnic table that an animal has helped himself to the corn. I bet it won't be here long!

 

A long day in the field. Once more over with the plow, and the field with be tucked in for the winter. A few months later, a new season will begin again. And so it goes. The life of a farmer.

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The House that Built Me

This is a house.

It might not look like much. Just a bunch of bricks stuck together with mortar; a few windows inserted here and there, and a roof put on top.

But inside, oh inside it was filled to the rafters with love.

It is the house that built me.

I lived in this house from the time I was brought home from the hospital at a week old, till I left it to be a 19-year-old bride.

But I continued to visit this house often.

It really wasn’t much to speak of - it was a pretty humble abode. The first level had two bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, and living room (or “front room” as we called it in our neighborhood.) Upstairs were two more bedrooms and a half bath. The basement was the size of the entire house.

All six of us kids grew up here, although my older siblings might remember living in a previous house for a little bit.

I have so many happy memories of this house. For example:

The Front Room:

This room had a big picture window and each year we placed our beloved Christmas tree in front of it. We always had a fresh tree. Think of the old-fashioned tree stands that were so hard to hold the big tree tight….my Dad put two screw hooks in the walls and ran wire from them to the tree to hold it straight and steady! He put those big Christmas bulbs around the picture window. We had these ugly tinfoil wreaths that we hung in the two small windows on either side of the large window.

Off of the front room was a tiny foyer and closet. Our mailbox was built into the closet. We had to reach way up into the shoot to get our mail. It always seemed so mysterious to me as a child.

Two  gold chairs perched on either side of the window and my parents sat in them and watched out the window for our arrival.

Bedroom/Family Room

My mother told me a story of when my twin sister and I were just babies. She had our two cribs in the room. Someone came over to see us. It was quite a big deal back then to have twins! We had just woken up from a nap and the whole room wreaked of poop! She was so embarrassed!

Later on, when most of us kids were grown and gone, my parents turned the bedroom into a TV room. It was small and cozy. It was a great place to curl up for a nap.

Kitchen

My mother was always cooking or baking. In fact, she baked something every day until she got a paying job when we, the youngest (twins), were in high school. She would make home made bread, knead the dough, put it in bowls to rise, punch it down, let it rise again, then put it in loaf pans. She’d make 4 or 5 loaves of bread. Nothing smelled better than home made bread! She’d also make home made ravioli - 200-300 squares!

Our kitchen wasn’t that big, but we’d all crowd around the table. If we didn’t fit, we’d put chairs up in the TV room. That’s all I know, we’d always get good food. Roast Beef, Spaghetti and meatballs, fried chicken, everything was delicious! My Mom was THE BEST COOK!

We didn’t get a dishwasher till I think all of us kids were out of the house. So my sisters and I took turns washing and or drying the dishes with the radio blasting the latest tunes.

Bathroom

Even though we only had one full bath, somehow we all were able to get ready in the morning. Granted, we probably didn’t take showers as frequently as kids do today. (I honestly can’t remember.)

I DO remember my Mom telling me how I would be in the bathroom taking a long time and my brother Bob yelling at me to hurry up and get out. It turns out that I would be cleaning the bathroom instead of just getting ready and then leaving! My mom was happy but my brother surely wasn’t!

Back Porch

So many nights and weekends were spent sitting and talking on the back porch. My parents had a glider, so we would take turns sitting on it and rocking back and forth. If our babies were toddlers, we’d block the steps going down and the kids could wander on the porch without any worries. One time when my nephew Ryan was about 9 months old, we put him in the baby swing that my dad had made. It was hanging from a chain from the “T” clothes post. My sister was tired of pushing him and wanted to come back up to the porch where all the gossip was happening. So one of us suggested, (I honestly think it was me) to tie a long rope on the baby swing and bring it up to the porch. Then while we were rocking on the glider, we could pull Ryan, too. So that’s what we did. And talked. And laughed. Unfortunately we weren’t paying any attention to Ryan. My father walked out of the house, took one look at the situation, yelled, “Jesus Christ! The baby!” and ran down the stairs to rescue Ryan.  Ryan was very big for his age. He had fallen asleep and fallen forward in the swing. Well, that made it a little top heavy, okay a LOT top heavy, so that he was dragging his hands back and forth in the dirt as we were pulling the swing. He was sound asleep. He was a tow headed kid, but his head was pretty red from all the blood rushing to it! He was no worse for wear! Don’t worry! We laughed our butts off!

My Dad used to sit on the back porch and rock on the glider and sing Italian songs. It would drive my mother crazy because she was embarrassed that the neighbors would hear. I thought it was adorable.


And of course, the back porch is where my twin sister and I were that fateful morning when she decided to take a couple of gulps from her "bubbles" container.

Why didn't I stop her? I guess I was so amazed that she would do it! We were pretty little at the time - maybe 4 years old! We still laugh about it!

The Front Porch

Many a days were spent on the front porch playing games with my friends, or just sitting and watching the cars go by. Sometimes in the evening my parents would come and sit outside.

The Basement

The basement was my Dad’s domain. It’s true that it held the washer and dryer, and my Mother would only go to that location. The rest of the basement belonged to Dad. It was pretty cluttered, but he seemed to know where everything was located. If you needed something, by golly he would go downstairs and dig around a bit and come back up with exactly what you needed.

Dad was a carpenter for 40 years, so he liked to putz around with making things. Any time he would turn on his jigsaw, the lights in the house would dim, and the screen on the TV would get all snowy. Sometimes it would be at such an interesting part of the movie. You’d just have to laugh.

My father died in 1995. He suffered with non-hodgkin's lymphoma for two years. It was hard to see this proud and kind man suffer.  The only thing Mom got rid of were his clothes. Then Mom died in 2000 and us kids were left to deal with the house.

It took us just about six months of going there on weekends to go through everything. It was very cathartic. My brother was in the basement, crying over Dad’s death, even though it had been awhile ago. But going through Dad’s tools, it was hard not to think of him touching them with his large carpenter’s hands. In the meantime, my sisters and I were laughing and crying in the bedroom when we stumbled across a couple of love letters that my mom had written to my dad before they were married. They were so sweet. We also found the original tags that were put in the bassinets at the hospital when my twin sister and I were born. All these years we thought that I was 8 minutes older than Pam. And then we found these tags that stated I was 10 minutes older! Could they be wrong? We are going to have to compare our birth certificates!

I was blessed to have my siblings around me, to share in my grief, but also to share in the love of my wonderful parents who raised us the best they could in good times and bad in the house that built me at 4142 Atlantic Street.





I have not driven past the house since we sold it. I can not bring myself to do it. My sisters tell me of the changes that have been made to the house. But it will always remain the same in my eyes. My childhood home. Filled with love.

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Sunday Bridges - Twin Falls, ID

This is a bridge in Twin Falls, ID. It spans the beautiful Snake River Canyon.

"Twin Falls became the center of national attention in September 1974 thanks to an attempt by Evel Knievel to jump the Snake River Canyon in a specially-modified rocket cycle. Watched by millions on television, the attempt ultimately failed due to high winds and a premature deployment of Knievel's parachute. The foundation of the launch ramp, which lies on private land, can still be seen." Wikipedia

 For more bridges, visit Louis La Vache at Sunday Bridges

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Flashback Friday - White Sands National Monument

Did you know that there are sand dunes in New Mexico?  I saw photographs of this beautiful place once, and told Jim that I would love to see it in person. So we made sure that we traveled through that area on our way to Arizona one year.







White Sands National Monument is centered in the bottom 1/3 of the state, and located just west of the town of Alamagordo. It is the largest gypsum dune field in the world. The dunes are very active, especially in the northeast area of the 275 square miles (115 of which is located within the monument), and can move up to 30 feet a year!

Here is the road driving in.

Now we're getting closer to the dunes. Look at that sand blowing behind that first dune!

I love the way the plants look on the sand, and the shadows that they cast.

One of the desert survivors

I forgot what these are called, but it's more specific than a sand dune. This might not look very big,

but looks can be deceiving! Here's Jim standing next to it!

We drover farther on and was surprised to see that the roads had been "plowed", as if a lot of snow had fallen.

Remember - that's SAND! And to confuse you even more, here are a couple of kids sliding down a sand dune with their little saucer sleds!

In fact, here's a very short video that I took of them slip-sliding down the dune. Remember - it's hot out!



The scenery is just magnificent. Well, you be the judge.

That is your tour for today. Please exit the bus single file. I hope you enjoyed your trip. Oh, and tips are always welcome! :)

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lady gaga

Why is it that even though I have a closet full of clothes, I have nothing to wear?

True, I have to carry all seasons of clothes and stuff them in about three feet of closet space, so there's no room to spare. Throw out the clothes that don't fit me and I'm left with a handful of outfits.

Who knew that when I'm standing there in front of my closet in just my underwear and bra, contemplating what to wear, and coming up empty, that another alternative would be to look in the refridgerator?

You heard me.

Listen. If Lady Gaga can pull it off, why can't I?

Here she is at the Video Music Awards last week, wearing a Meat Dress.

Yes. That is all fresh meat. Cheap, but fresh, according to Peter Cacioppo, the butcher at Ottomanelli Brothers, who had the honors of cutting the meat for the dress. “There are no expensive cuts here, no real steaks. The best you've got is the flank steak on top of her head.”

The meat was 100% natural - no preservatives and was supposed to smell real nice. Yeah. If you like the scent of raw meat.

The dress weighed close to 50 pounds and Lady Gaga said it was the most comfortable dress she wore all evening.

Course this was one of the other dresses she wore.

That seems pretty tame for her. But get a load of her shoes.

Could you imagine trying to walk in these?

At least the meat dress shoes looked wearable. And, of course, they were tied up with butcher string and meat to match the dress.

I wonder if they put some kind of plastic down on the seat in the auditorium where Lady Gaga was sitting. Who'd want to sit there after her? Hopefully not someone with an aide dog. That dog would go crazy!

So, next time I'm looking for something to wear, I'm grabbing a bagel, smearing it with cream cheese and sticking them cheesy side down on my ta-tas. I can take a couple of pieces of bacon and slap them on to look like bra straps, and across my back. Now, what about the bottom half? This is the hard part. I know! I'll use tortillas!

(I'd better use burrito size!) Maybe I can staple along 1/3 of the each edge so they will stick together and layer them like a pleated skirt. Then I can staple them to my underwear. It would be a short skirt, but still cover the essentials.

Wow. Just think. My wardrobe expands every time I go grocery shopping! Just think of the possibilities! I can't wait to see what I can to with a carved out melon!

*FYI - I like Lady Gaga's music....Her fashion sense? Not so much!

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I'm Living in the Dark Ages

One of the worst household chores I hate to do is defrosting the refrigerator/freezer.

Defrosting. I know. A word from the Dark Ages.

For some ungodly reason, probably there is a scientific one and Jim knows the answer but I refuse to ask him, our trailer's refrigerator has the old-fashioned "fins" in the back and ice builds up quickly on them.

This means that I have to defrost the refrigerator AND freezer about every three months.

I am NOT a happy camper.

Jim's "quick" solution is to turn off the fridge over night and let the ice melt.

It does. The majority of it it, anyway.

And in a perfect world, the ice would melt perfectly, one drop at a time. It would fall perfectly on the small ledge under the fins, and swirl down the tiny pea-sized hole, out a hose to never, never land.

But we all know that the world isn't perfect now, don't we?

So, yeah, the ice melts. AND drips wherever the hell it wants to.

This means that when I go to get out the package of bagels, along comes a bunch of water that's sitting in the crevices of the wrapping.

Or there's water on the top of containers that pours onto my toesies when I reach for one of them.

Or there's standing water in the drawers when I pull them open.

At this point smoke is coming out of my ears, and a few choice words out of my mouth.

I know Jim pushes that button to turn off the fridge just to "push my button" to piss me off enough to defrost the fridge the correct way.

You see, I procrastinate.

I procrastinate for the simple reason that it's a pain in my patootie to defrost the damn thing.

Defrosting means lugging the two coolers in from outside which are stored under our trailer. They need to be banged around a couple of times to get the creepy-crawly things off of them, like earwigs. Then I have to wipe out the coolers before even using them. I put a plastic garbage bag down on the floor before setting the coolers down.

Now I'm ready to start defrosting, and I'm already tired.

I turn off the appliance and pack everything I can fit into the coolers. The rest of the stuff sits on my teeny tiny counter.

I put a small fan on the floor and angle it upwards to help with the defrosting process. Nothing like hearing chunks of ice hitting the metal shelves.

I take out all the drawers and wash them, then wipe down the sides and bottom of the fridge. It always amazes me when I find a stray hair under the drawers. How the heck does it get there?

The fridge goes pretty fast. It's the freezer that looks like a small chunk of Antarctica. This whole process takes me at least two hours. Then I put everything neatly back in the fridge and freezer.

Jim STILL can't find anything.

Even when it's right in front of his face.

He'll open up the refrigerator and ask, "Hon, where's the mayonnaise?"

"Third shelf on the right," I'll reply.

"I can't find it!"

So I sigh, get up, go over to the fridge and point to it - right where I said it would be.

I have a friend who believes that the reason men can't seem to find anything, especially if it's right in front of them, is because they don't have a tracking device - THE UTERUS.

I'm beginning to think this is true.

I did a little test. I bought a package of Reece's Peanut Butter Cups and didn't mention it to Jim.

I put the bag on the shelf behind the broccoli. Half the bag was still visible.

Jim loves chocolate as much as I do.

He never found them. Even though they were in plain sight, so to speak.

So every day I'd enjoy a couple of them....savoring their chocolate-peanutty goodness. Smiling to myself about my little secret.

Cruel? Maybe.

But they were there for the taking. Jim just had to LOOK, you know?

Anyway, I rewarded myself with a few pieces of heaven after cleaning the fridge and downed them with a Diet Dr. Pepper. Nothing goes better with chocolate than a diet pop. Aahh...

Oh, yeah, I DID share the last few with Jim. Not to worry!

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Moving - It's not for the faint of heart - Or For Old Fat People

I saw some old friends of mine yesterday that I haven't seen in a long time. It was SO good to see them. They even brought tears to my eyes. I lovingly rubbed my hands all over them and thought of all the good times we've had.

No. They weren't people.

I visited my things in storage.

Well, visited sounds like I sat down and had a cup of tea and crumbcakes.

It was more down and dirty than that.

Maybe I'd better explain. We've had some things in storage  for 5 1/2 years or since we've been on the road. Yes, I know. It's silly. It's stupid. The money we've spent on storage could have bought all new furniture.

But there isn't much furniture in storage. I gave  most of it away to my kids. Except for the dresser that Jim SAWED in half because he couldn't get down the stairs (even though, somehow, DUH, the movers were actually able to get it UP the stairs). But I digress.

The only furniture I have in storage is my kitchen set, a beautiful wooden desk and chair, the rocking chair that I ROCKED my babies in, and a shelf that my father made. Granted I could have bought a new table and desk, but I couldn't have REPLACED the rocker or shelf. TOO many memories.

Jim said that he would have just taken pictures of all my possessions, then gotten rid of the stuff. When I missed them, he'd show me the photos.

Nice, I know. That's why I call him, "The Tin Man".

He needs to visit the Wizard of Oz to get a heart.

Anyjunk, back to my story. So. All these years of paying for storage, and the storage place (#1) continually raising their fees, we finally decided to yank our stuff out of there.

And move it to another storage place (#2).

#2 is $100 CHEAPER than #1. It's farther out in the country, and, granted we rented a smaller area, a 10 x 10, instead of a 10 x 15. Everything fit.

Do you know what this means? For 5 1/2 years, I've paid for that extra 5 square feet.  I don't know how much money I threw away, but I could have had a couple of fun days in Vegas at the slots.....maybe even throw in a show or two. Or I could have gone to my favorite restaurant, Bob Chin's, for their most excellent crab legs a few times. I have NEVER seen crab legs so big. NEVAH!

But no. I have a money tree growing in my yard. Do you want a snipping off of it?

Yeah right. As if. I don't even have a BACK YARD!

The #2 place had a truck for our use, which was great. Jim and I drove to #1 with the name of the #2 place plastered all over the truck for ALL THE WORLD TO SEE. It was obvious what we were doing. When I went into the office and informed them that we were vacating our space, he asked me to fill out a little card. It asked for the reason why we were leaving. I couldn't lie now could I? "Found a cheaper place to rent", I scribbled.

We began making our one of a bazillion, million, hundred treks down the long hallway with a couple of carts. We had pep in our step for maybe the first five trips.

It was fun to see my old stuff, like my mix master, my bread machine, my paintings. I have two small wooden rocking elephants that my brother, Bob, made for my kids. That really brought a tear to my eye. As did seeing the clock I took from my parent's house that chimed every hour,  and the magazine rack my Dad made me. Then there was the old dresser I used growing up and that my sister (Linda) wrote a note in the bottom drawer to my twin sister and me. We took several pictures with Jim's phone, but they didn't turn out. The writing is very light in pencil. In the note she wrote something to the fact that she had to give up HER dresser to her sisters "Loran and Hardy", or "Fatso and Skinny". I WAS NEVER FAT as a kid! Pam was always SKINNY! LOOK!

from left to right, Pat, Pam

She continued on that we were always getting into deep, deep holes (trouble).

She's a liar! Liar, liar pants on fire! Nose as long as a telephone wire!

Sorry. I guess I regressed a little there. The point is, how could I get rid of that dresser? That, my friends, is priceless.

I thought I was pretty good at marking what was inside the boxes. But I missed a few (or Jim did). I thought it was funny (at first) when Jim would ask, "What's in this box?"

Seriously? Did he think I MEMORIZED each box and what was in it? I hardly remember what I did yesterday, let alone 5 years ago.

So this was funny the first time he asked me, but by the fourth time, I was ready to hit him over the head with said box, if I had the energy.

We loaded maybe 70% of our stuff in the truck on the first run. Made a quick stop for lunch, and drove the 25 miles to the #2 place. We were dismayed to see that they had no carts for easy unloading. The truck DID come with a dolly, so that was good. The bad news was, that dolly had a hard time standing up for some reason. At one point in the day it fell back and hit me right in the chest and just about knocked the breath out of me.

I was too tired to cry.

It took us a loooonnng time to unload the truck. I had to run out and get some water because Jim was sweating profusely and he was cramping up.

We got stuck in rush hour traffic as we headed back to #1. Jim stopped to buy some Gatorade, and felt better immediately, so his electrolytes needed replenishing.  By this time our son was getting off of work. I called him to help us. I told him dinner would be involved, and it was like holding a carrot in front of a horse's nose. He was there in no time flat.

He took one look at his parents and knew he did the right thing. Because even though he was tired from working a full day of loading trucks, he was NO WAY as tired as his parents.

We got that second truck loaded up pretty quick. Granted it was mostly boxes. Book boxes, I might add. Even though we donated 650 books to the library before we left. Go figure.

We stopped for dinner, then on to storage place #2. We got all our crap stuff in the 10 x 10 space, pulled the door shut, locked it, and called it a day. It was 9:00 pm. We had been working since 10:00 am.

We were tired.

The old gray mare? She ain't what she used to be. And her mate's even MORE ain't what HE used to be.

We drove home in silence. A half hour later we were both showered and lying in bed, listening to our muscles complaining to us.

I turned and said to Jim, "You know, if we were rich, we could order a couple of masseuses over to massage us all over. Wouldn't that feel great?"

Then I thought a minute and said, "What am I saying? If we were rich, we wouldn't be feeling this way to BEGIN with, because somebody else would have done the moving FOR US!"

Jim snored.

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Flashback Friday - Valley of the Gods

You may remember last week I wrote about how we had to cross this mountain (Cedar Mesa) to get to Natural Bridges National Monument.

And that itty-bitty gray line is the road leading to the mountain:

And we all know that what goes up (meaning us) MUST come down so we had to drive back DOWN the mountain on our return trip. Once we reached the bottom we took a left off that ribboned gray road to get to the Valley of the Gods (VOTG).

VOTG is like a "mini-me" of Monument Valley, another Flashback Friday topic. It's a 17-mile dirt road that winds through various rock formations. It was like we landed on another planet - the only other person we passed was a guy by the side of the road who's motorcycle was stuck in the sand. Jim got out and helped him push it to the road. Other than that - it was desolate. The wind howled over the sand and through the rocks. Here's a short clip.



We never had a map of the rock formations - I just stumbled across one while writing this post. So I'm going to try to match up some of my photos with what I think are the correct names of the formations.

This one is called "Seven Sailors" because there are seven rocks with flat "hats" on top. 

But I called it "Screaming Man" because I zoomed in on the one rock, and, well, it looks like a man screaming.

There was supposed to be a rock formation that looked like a battleship. This one likes like a pirate ship to me. Does that count?

I thought this one looked like a monkey face. Do you think I could get a job naming these rock formations?

These next few are just rock formations. I've numbered them 1, 2, 3 and 4. Clever. I know.

Here the sun is just kissing the top of the rocks.

This shot gives you a good feel of the land.

The best part is, you didn't have to endure the bumpy truck ride, and your buttocks aren't screaming for some soft pillows.

Your welcome.

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