The Pilver

The Max enjoyed this.   He has developed a love for beat boxing and more recently yo momma jokes.  Max’s so urban.  I don’t have any of his jokes on video, maybe soon.  Instead watch this guy.

Dear Diary,

I have taken on a lot of projects, I do not know if I can keep up on them all.   Blogging seems like a luxury of time at the moment.  I think I will try and get something decent typed up tomorrow.

KBell

Yesterday at work, I asked a cook why we were using a different cheese on the antipasto platters.  His response was, “The cheese was old and moldy.”  Like any good person of my generation I began spitting out other lines from Encino Man.  Sadly, my  twenty-one year old co-worker was lost as to the reference.

Therefore, I told them I would bring in my laptop and my copy of Encino Man on DVD for educational  viewing purposes.  I mentioned this with our boss present, there was no protest made.  So, I am hoping the background noise at work today will not be a Pandora techno station as usual, but instead some juice wheezing  and good old fashioned teen comedy.

Over a year and a half ago now, I wrote about a struggle I had been having to gain weight. Let me start by saying, that this is a topic that does not receive hardly any attention.  I’m not trying to attention whore here, but having a problem gaining weight, is not something you seem to be able to talk about with many people.  It’s also somewhat humiliating.  Fact is, most people are talking about losing pounds.

I was put on a three thousand calorie a day diet by my doctor and realized that I had previously probably only consumed 1500-2000 daily.  That would have been a fine amount for someone my size, but I never sit still at work OR at home.   I have a nervous demeanor and my family is naturally petite. Eating an adequate amount was proving to be not enough. Then, the task of writing down every damn thing I ate made eating a chore. I actually began to eat less than before. Six months after I wrote that post, I was seven pounds lighter.  I was thin to begin with, but this was disgusting.  I thought I looked disgusting.   Last August I saw a picture of myself in a bikini during a vacation. It was not pleasant. At this point, I had a mental block with consuming calories.  Eating was so unenjoyable and it seemed as though no matter what I consumed I was only going to become smaller and smaller.  I’d look at girls with nice thick muscular arms or legs and grow insanely jealous that I couldn’t get them myself.

But…I am happy to say I am up thirteen pounds and only have seven to go.  I credit most of this to not working very much for three months.  However as of this week I work at least five and up to seven days per week.  So, it’s time to stock up on the avocados and ice cream.  I am determined to get to my goal weight and never ever again have someone tell me, “I wish I had your problem.”  Believe me, it’s not a problem you want to have.

A couple weeks ago, I browsed the children’s section of books at a thrift store.  The Max has decided books are his life recently and I am trying to encourage this hobby as much as I can.  I found a book geared towards little ones on how to take pictures.  It was an appropriate reading level for him so I fished a quarter out of my pocket and traded it for the book.  (Gotta love thrift store prices).

I have an old digital camera I never use and I informed The Max that it would become his camera as soon as he finished the book.  He did nothing else for the next few hours but study those pages.  So, I forked over the camera and let him get to work.  It’s amusing what he decides to capture:

He climbed up the mountain a ways and took some shots of the house and yard.

Got a good picture of the sunset.

Having this thing in the yard, pretty much made his whole year.

That’s my boy.  (With a sticker on his face he refused to remove for an entire day.)

There’s plenty more I am not sharing, he was pretty good about taking sneaky pictures of me with morning bed head.  I’ll save those for myself.

The title of this post is misleading, I cannot teach you how to rototill for I am the dummy. There is a rototill at my house that is over thirty years old.  It is a hog and by today’s standards it is probably a safety liability.  But, it’s what I have to work with and if I want to have grass and not dust in my front yard, I knew I was going to have to run it yesterday.

The ground where I live is rocky, seemingly more rocks than dirt.  Every time the rototill hits a rock, it kicks like a bull and throws my arms up reminding me of when my mother would yell at my uncles to not swing us around by my arms because she feared they would become dislocated.  Once again, the job had to be done so I held on loosely so as to take less abuse from the till.  After about an hour I’d had it and decided to take a break.  The dinosaur machine has no off button, but if you turn the throttle, it stops pretty quickly.  Yesterday the throttle broke.  I decided to swtich it from the slow setting to free wheel, meaning the rototill would only move if I pushed it…and it’s too much of a beast for me to push.  Sadly, I moved the gear from ‘slow’ to ‘fast’ without being able to pause it in the middle of those two settings where it would come to a rest.

Thankfully I was home alone so nobody was able to witness what happened next.  In retrospect I wish someone had a video camera rolling, because I must have looked like a moron.  A quick You Tube search allowed me to find what I must have looked like when I put the till on high speed and ran with it like a little kid playing wheel barrel at a church picnic.

…and boy are my arms tired!

As of yesterday, I work pretty much every day.  I have 5152 things to cross off on my to do list.  This is the first time in the history of my life where I really feel as though I really really really need a 36 hour day.

I started this blog almost three years ago, when I was starting college again and The Max was starting Kindergarten.   I figured I could write some nonsense and some non-nonsense and keep track of where we went from there.

If someone told me three years ago that I would be where I am today, I would slap them silly and if I found out they were telling the truth to me at that time I would be in a coma from shock.

However, life is good for me.  So damn good I cannot believe it. My son is becoming more amazing that I ever though t he could.  (that says a lot since I am the most proud parent)  I love where I live.  I love my house, I have never loved a house…ever.  I have not even lived in a single family house since…2002.

Long story longer…I don’t have time to blog in the next three months.  However, blogging seems to be one of the things I do for me and only me, so I am going to continue just because I enjoy it.

Therefore, until…hmmm, let’s say the 4th of September, just to arbitrarily pick a random date, I am going to commit myself to blog EVERY DAY.

It’s The Daily Pilver.   At least for a bit.

I would like to take this time to announce that I have no outstanding love for the day June 11th.  I am indifferent to it in every way.  Sure, there are 196 days until Christmas.  Joshua Jackson of Mighty Ducks fame was born this day.  But as for holding a love for this day, I don’t.  And I cannot find a single thing of significance to blog about today.

However, I hope everyone in internetland is having a smashing good time and I will find something which contains some form of vaguely entertaining nonsense to present you with on June 12th…which also holds no fond memories in my heart.