Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Day Two is In the Books -- Was Today the Day?

So, as I'm about ready to put today to bed, along with myself, I find myself wondering if today might be the day Ellie is born? Not that I feel like it is or anything, but I just don't KNOW!!! It could be, you know. I'm so excited to find out if maybe I end up blogging on the day she was born.

Back in June, I was having CRAZY dreams about people dying. Yes, I know, crazy!! My mom sent me an email (June 5) after I told her about it saying:

It means there is a birth.
So write the date
down this may be a note to you
that Ellie is conceived.
Particularly since you dreamed
of so many different ones.

Love You

I am comforted knowing that God knows, and that's enough for me. I am carrying around a little Ty Beany Baby lamb with me this week as a visual reminder of why I am here and what I'm trying to do. So, when 1:00 is hard and 6:00 seems like it will never come, I see the lamb and remember my little lamb that's on the way.
As for the lamb that's already here, he went back to school today on his crutches. He survived based on his call from home today after school I miss him and Kevin a lot!!
Today was a bit harder than day 1 -- more driving or something -- and I got 111 completed. Total for the week so far: 243 - yay!!!
Now, I do HAVE to share my redneck story. Mind you, I am NOT complaining. The running joke from my Beth Moore class is to not be an "Israelite in the desert" -- complaining about a blessing. I reiterate -- I am NOT complaining. I am simply recounting the story, factually.
It's 10 until six. I'm ready to quit because I am tired and my head hurts. Something is in the air here that has affected my allergies, making my head hurt, my eyes water and me to sneeze a lot. However, I have two more on the street I'm on and think I'll finish those and quit. It ALWAYS happens this way. I get to the end of the day and I come to "THE" house. (And I PRAY my mother doesn't read this or she'll have a heart attack. I was thinking this as I was experiencing this.)

Today, it was situated at the end of a LONG gravel , rutted driveway. I start down the hill , noting two Beware of Dog signs, multiple No Trespassing and Private Property signs. I begin to think it might not be a "good" place, and then I saw it. Words cannot describe the sight that beheld my eyes. It was like a sight from a movie about "You Might Be a Redneck".
[A little background is in order here about what I do. I take photos of houses for insurance companies. They are looking for hazards and conditions that might cause a claim. Things that could be considered hazards or conditions include: unfenced pools, non-netted trampolines, pit bulls and other vicious breed dogs, dry-rotting or peeling paint on a property, clutter around a yard, junk cars (kids can get locked in a die), missing handrails to steps -- and on and on -- you get the idea.]

I topped the hill to find three men, drinking beer, working on a car with what appears to either be a pregnant or just given birth to puppies PIT BULL. There are junk cars everywhere, clothes hanging on the line, clutter and trash everywhere you look, beer cans in piles here and there. The problem is, they have seen me. I have to say something! I can't just back out -- it's one lane. Hmm... what to do???? I'm thinking this probably isn't good.
So, I roll my window down and say (in my best Southern girl polite voice and with a big smile), "Hey!! I'm here from [insurance company name withheld on purpose] to take your photos for your insurance policy. Do you think your dog will be ok if I get out?" They look at me, and the man on the motorized scooter wearing his wife beater t-shirt says, "I think she'll be ok. She usually likes women." Hmmmm... usually. I do a quick math calculation in my head of the odds of usually with a pit bull who just had puppies and doesn't know me compared exponentially with the deductible on my insurance divided by how many pints of blood I would require and said, "Well, I just don't think usually is going to work for me today. Do you have somewhere you could put her?" Much conversation ensues among the three about putting her in a truck and rolling up the windows -- until they realize the windows probably won't roll up. Another guy decides to put her in the house. Sadly, I did not get a picture of her before they put her up. She looked nice enough.
At this point I'm thinking taking photos of all this stuff will take TOO LONG and I'm tired, so I say, casually, "You know, I really don't want you to go to all that trouble. How about if I ask them to call and schedule an appointment with you so they can come out and get the pictures?" I'm thinking I'm pretty smart at this point, until he says, "Oh, no! That's not necessary, get on out and do what you need to do." *sigh*. I'm wondering where to start when I decide I haven't seen any puppies today so that would be a pleasant place to start. I ask where they are. He replies, "Oh they're over in the pen". I ask if I can go see them and he says, "Sure, just go on over there." I'm thinking, "HOW???" when I can't see more than a few feet past my feet. I try to make "nice" conversation by saying, "Wow -- you've got your own pond here." It was the ONLY nice thing I could say. I climbed, crawled and sorted my way over to the dog pen where I saw the CUTEST puppies. Here's a picture of them. I really like puppies; it's the dogs they become that tend to be a problem for me.

After I've managed to get most of the pictures, owner guy decides he wants to tell me what they are working on (the truck). He goes on and on about how much he's spent on this car and how they are trying to bring it back from the grave. Being the doesn't think before speaking girl that I am, I said, "Looks like you might want to start digging a hole." OOPS -- did I say that out LOUD??? He said, "Oh, no, now maybe that red truck over there on the trailer, or one of those up there (note, multiple vehicles he is referring to), but not this one, we've got a lot of money in this one. Whew, good to know where all that money is going, since it's not going into garbage bags. (Well, now, that was ugly, wasn't it? I do not have room to talk here after seeing my house when I left).
Then he says, "Oh, the wife's home. Why don't you go talk to her about this. She's probably had a hard day at work though." I tell him I have too and he says, "Well, maybe you all can talk about it and have a drink together. She's Italian and likes a little red wine now and then." WHAT???? I'm not sure what I'm supposed to 'talk' to her about, but I trudge up the hill -- both to get the front picture and to tell her why I'm here. She doesn't care. I don't either, by this point, I just want to leave. So, I go back down the hill, thank the men and leave.

WHEW -- alive, no less. Here are just a few of the pictures from the premises of this house. Somehow, they actually make it look better than it was. Now, in all fairness they were all very nice.

Speaking of pit bulls, this was on the door of an elderly lady's home. In case you can't read the the lines, it says, "This House is Under the Protection of a Pit Bull -- And it has AIDS".

This dog was "home alone" and was wild and crazy. We played fetch for a while. I thought he was going to knock me down he jumped around so much!
Some really pretty drifwood I thought my mom would like to see.

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