Lady Jan's theory of the missing sock

You know how you put a pair of socks in the dryer and only one comes out?

Where did it go?

Well I got a theory about that, and please tell me if you have heard this one before;
When the dryer spins it creates a vortex, and as it continues to spin it creates static electricity, and that opens up a small black hole or worm hole in the back of the dryer; just large enough to suck down one sock.

Gulp!

It's either that or socks are actually sentient;


"Psst, hey I'm tired of being on people's stinky feet, so I'm making a break for it. Do you see that shirt there? As soon as I got enough static cling I'm out of here!"

Sleepless in Madera

I got all cozy in my bed and stared at the walls for a while as I willed sleep to come, and then I heard a tapping (and not at my back door).

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

The tapping noise sort of sounded familiar.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

I tried to place it; I thought that it might be a big mean bug running it's stupid little head into the wall over and over again, or then again it could be a mouse in high heels (maybe the kind of heels that Barbie wears?) strutting it's stuff through my house.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

Or maybe just maybe; and worse of all a rat got one paw in a sticky trap and the goo is still on it little foot, and it sticking to the floor as it walks?

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

The tapping noise got closer and closer.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

I heard it in the bathroom.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

Then I heard it enter my room.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

The tapping noise continued as I lay cringed under my blankets as it circled my bed.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

Then I heard it go back out again.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

The tapping slowly diminished and at last it was quiet.

And then as I lay there I thought; what the hell was that?

Then I finally fell asleep at three or so in the morning.

The next day I went into the bathroom, and saw a medium sized moth climb out of a box. It was fluttering it wings like it couldn't believe it was awake.

I said "You!"

"It was you that kept me awake last night!"

Then I squished it!

It's harvest season and I ain't getting no sleep!

My husband is working the graveyard shift at the local winery, as the graveyard foreman (sorry Lee he doesn't actually stump on the grapes).

Because of that I can't sleep at night.

Who knew I needed someone to take too much of the bed, steal the covers (this time of the year it's the sheet), and snore in my ear so that I can get some mush needed rest at night?

When I do lay there willing sleep to come I start at every little noise, or when I finally drift off I'm woken up by a thump on the front porch, or rustle in my bedroom, and one time my cell wanted attention and made that odd noise like a bloop or a bleep--that says "hey stupid, recharge me now!"

The worst was the other night; I had just dozed off when right in my ear was a whine of a mosquito--dang it!

I slapped at it and my head until my head rang like a school yard bell.

And I swear that darn little sucker gave a high pitched giggled, as it flew off.

Just call me Electric Woman!

Life is not messured in the number of breaths you take,
but in the moments that take your breath away.

Here's a moment that took my breath away.

I couldn't post for most of last week because we were having an electrical storm for three days or so.



I even had to turn off the computer so a lightening strike wouldn't fry it.



I went to bed one night and opened the window curtains so I could see the light show that mother nature was putting on. Then I thought it was over and I was disappointed.



"It figures" I said out loud "just when I wanted to watch and it has to be over." So I closed my eyes, and lay down my weary head.



And just then I heard a loud crack, and when I looked there was another even louder crack!



And it looked like two slightly canted eyes were looking back at me. I think it was two edges of lightening coming at me, how they didn't come though the open window and get me I haven't a clue.



Then kaboom! The house was surrounded by flashing light.



Then the windows on the entire house rattled, and I noticed that the hairs on my arms were all standing up.



And my daughter slept through the entire thing--noise and all!