Come On In, The Water's Fine!

We spent last weekend in Austin visiting another part of my family.
I knew my  husband was in for a treat as we drove past a gigantic
billboard that read, "You can smell our pits from here!" (Well,
obviously it was for a barbecue joint! But I did do a quick stretch,
sniff, check to make sure my deodorant was working.)



So, we're going through all these crazy, hilly curves through the
backwoods of Wimberley and we drove past a FOR SALE BY
OWNER sign nailed to a fence post in front of a camouflage
colored SUV with no doors or windshield on it and a bright red
bench attached to the roof of it. Evidently, this hunter's vehicle
only needs to be disguised from the hood down. I guess to shock
the deer into wondering how these beer-drinking rednecks are
able to just float on a bright red bench above the forest floor at
which point they are blown to smithereens by a 30-odd-6 held
by one said floaters. We laughed as we drove by it and started
telling each other our favorite "you might be a redneck if" jokes.


We made it to my aunt's house and met her husband and greeted
my grandmother. The kids got to enjoy some country life as they
played in the stream behind her house and saw deer up close and
caught frogs and chased bugs and ran from snakes. Then my
cousin, Matthew, showed up with his son, some flowers, and a
bottle of wine. Now, drinking is a spectator sport for me and my
husband. But my cousin started pounding back red wine in an
iced tea glass. My aunt got about half a glass out of each bottle.
By around midnight, Matt disappeared. Out of fear of having to
drag him out of one of our beds, we set off to find him. He
wasn't anywhere to be found. "Oh, no!" laughed my aunt. "We're
going to find him in bed spooning with Momma!" As we hurried
toward her room, she came out shaking her head as she pushed
her walker down the hallway.

"Is Matt in there?" we asked her.

"Yes," she said. "He opened the door and scared the life outta me!
And he said, 'I'm going to sleep in here with you.' And I told him,
'Oh no, you're not!' And he just threw the pillow on top of my
shoes and started snoring before he hit the floor!" My aunt's
husband opened the door and sure enough. There he was sawing
logs with his head underneath my grandmother's portable toilet.
So, NATURALLY we photographed it!

After all, we are from the redneck gene pool. Come on
in. The water's fine.

Redneck Home Beauty Secrets

It's been about three months since I've removed that blonde handle
bar mustache above my lip. While living in the Middle-East, it really
wasn't that big a deal. I'd go to any beauty salon and pay about 7
pounds (roughly $1.20) and have any unsightly facial hairs removed
with thread. (They twist up the thread and rip those suckers out by
the roots.) Now that I'm back in the U.S. and well, basically broke,
I can't afford to go to a beauty salon for this treatment or waxing and
certainly not electrolysis.

I tried tonight to do it myself with the thread but I couldn't figure it
out. So I did what any girl of Southern upbringing would do. I got
out a roll of duct tape and worked my magic. I pulled off a strip and
smoothed it down on my mustache area and then...ripped it off. WOO
NELLY! It was like the whole "pull the bandage off quickly and it won't hurt" thing....only
without the "and it won't hurt" part. But I'd started and had to finish. So I did this about twelve
more times and then had to stop because the tape wouldn't stick anymore due to the tears
running out of my eyes. And my upper lip was horribly red. I wondered should I have just
left the blonde mustache there. I mean, now I've got this ridiculous red swollen skin and I'm
not sure if it's from the ripping of the hair by the roots or if it's an allergic reaction to the
adhesive on the duct tape. Either way, the redness only intensified once I scrubbed the adhesive
residue from my lip. And thanks to these "green" grocery stores, everyone now uses recyclable
plastic bags which I can't exactly cover my head with for the whole oxygen thing. Hmmmmm.
I'm hoping that the ice pack I've got on my lip now does the trick before bedtime. My poor
husband is already going to have to deal with the fact that I didn't shave my legs. No reason
to give him nightmares on top of that, right?