Hillbilly Mom's Movie Challenge v 6.0

It's Saturday, and time for a movie challenge. Since it's summer,
this challenge will have a rerun theme. That's all I can tell you.
Best of luck. Answers will be posted Wednesday, July 6.

1. "Earlier today, I heard that a young girl had fallen down a well.
I had hoped it was you."

2. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Orange."

3. "Who'd wanna rape you that you ain't already f***ed?"

4. "Receptionist? Dark hair? Talks like she's chewing her face?"

5. "They mostly come at night. Mostly."

6. "Plug it up! Plug it up!"

7. "Piedmont, South Dakota. Tell anyone, and I'll have to kill you."

8. "Don't let The Man get you down."

9. "Kill him. Kill him a lot."

10. "See, here's how it works. The train moves, not the station."

Bonus Movie Challenge #1

What do these movies have in common? You may take as many
guesses as you like. Good luck. I will post one hint a day until the
answer on Wednesday, July 6.

Practical Magic
The Phantom
A Beautiful Mind
The Year of Living Dangerously
Tender Mercies
Mulholland Drive
A Cry in the Dark
Coyote Ugly
The Aviator
Dead Poets' Society

Big Blogger Challenge #12

Well, Miss Rebecca has given us quite the task this time. We have
to create a billboard for one of the following topics: Truck Parts,
Birth Control, Fibre Enriched Diet (because she's Australian, you
know, and that is how they spell fiber), Bank Interest Rates, or
Recycling.

Oh, and did I mention that we have to post a picture, because we
have been chosen as a new spokesperson for the topic we choose?
AND, we have to invent a catchy slogan so people whizzing by in
their cars will notice our entry in this contest, which Rebecca calls
"Piss In Your Pocket." Hmm...makes me wonder if Bec needed a
potty break while she was creating this challenge.

Below is my entry. Beware, it is not for the faint of heart. I am not
responsible if you burn out your retinas while viewing it. Look away!
It is hideous!

Here is my Big Blogger billboard.

_______________________

PLANNED PARENTHOOD

This Could Have Been Prevented!

The Bad Luck Garage

We don't spend too much time around the garage. Things just go
wrong. Wednesday, for example.

The boys wanted to set off some fireworks that were left over from
last year. #1 son got out the box. He got safety glasses for himself
and his brother. Now before you go saying that I am a big over-
protective nerd, get this: their dad lost the sight in his left eye because
when he was 14, he leaned over a parachute firework that didn't
go off, and then it did. So he says they must wear the safety glasses
or no fireworks.

I had just finished spraying part of the porch for ants with some
Save-A-Lot generic wasp and hornet spray (hey, if it's bad for
them, it must be bad for ants, too) and set the can on the shelf
by the garage door. I opened up the door and pushed the button
to open the big door so we could walk through to the carport.

#1 son handed me two punks. "Here, Mom, light these for us."
I grabbed them both about an inch from the end to light them
with a lighter. It took a minute, then SIZZLE! Sparks shot out
in all directions. I screamed, and ran down the sidewalk to the
parking area beside the garage. The boy had given me sparklers
instead of punks. I had noticed they were kind of gray, not brown.
But they had wooden sticks at the end. I thought they had turned
color from aging for a year. #1 turned color: white. He didn't
know they were sparklers, either. Good thing we didn't blow
up the car and the garage, what with the fresh bug spray and all.

Poor garage. We find the cats' dead treasures there: mice, birds,
baby moles, frogs, snakes. We also found our poor dead kitty,
Gizmo, there. He was curled up in his box "sleeping" as we left
for school one morning. #1 reached in to pet him, and got a
funny look and said, "Mom, I think you need to look at him."
He was still warm, but dead. He looked like he was asleep.

#2 son had his own bad luck in the garage. He was just a little
shaver, about 3 years old. He was clutching a chocolate-chip
granola bar (only the most nutritious breakfasts for my boys)
and squeezed it too hard. Half of it fell on the garage floor.
He screamed that he wanted it. I told him to eat the half he
had in his hand. NO! I said I would go in and get him another
one. NO! So, I did what any redneck mother in a hurry to
get to work would do....I picked it up and gave it to him. The
tears stopped, and all was right with the world. (This was
before we had any cats.)

The first time Hillbilly Husband backed our "new" used
Suburban out of the garage, he broke off the passenger
mirror. That was about a $100 error.

And then there was the untimely demise of Mr. Kickball.
Beware the horror that is my garage!

Road Treasure

My Hillbilly Husband's latest treasure, picked up from the
road Monday evening. He says it's a linchpin, worth $10.

One Man's Junk

I want to put my Hillbilly Husband on TV with his own show: One
Man's Junk. I think I will call him HH from now on. HH finds so many
treasures we are running out of room. Way back when I started my
blog, I told you about the perfectly good swimming pool that he
stored in the back of the truck for a while. My picture of the outhouse
shows the flexible sewer pipe that he found in a subdivision near work.
We have a barn, a shed, a garage, and 1/4 of a basement filled with
his treasures.

Monday night we were cruising along on the way to town to a Pee
Wee Baseball game, and all at once the Yukon slid to a stop. I slid
out of my seat and rammed into the dash (always wear your seatbelt,
kids--and darn you, leather seats!). We were going down a little hill
onto a low-water bridge, and HH put the car in park and got out.
Yeah, we live in the boonies. He walked back and picked up something
out of the road. Some piece of metal that he said was a linchpin. At
first he said he was getting it out of the road so a car (meaning me,
who is so blind and old and stupid that I would run over that metal
chunk is what I think he meant) would not hit it. Then he said, "That
is worth $10. I'll take it home and use it to pull the haywagon or the
lawnmower trailer."

I should have known before I married him that there was a reason
the people at the apartment complex pool said in unison: "Here
comes Sanford and Sons," when HH and his boys pulled in driving
a multicolored Chevy pickup. He can't pass up a bargain. By that
I mean something cast off along the road. He even got me to doing it.
I once stopped right in front of the Daily Journal office to pick up
a piece of white J-channel, which is the corner stuff that vinyl siding
hooks into. And to make matters even more embarrassing than
stopping in the middle of a main road in town and getting out and
trying to stuff an 8' strip of vinyl into a Toyota is the fact that HH
said, "Well, I'm glad you got it, but I can't use it. It's been run over
too many times."

So we started teasing HH about his $10 linchpin treasure, and he
said, "That's a lot of money. You boys have it too easy. When I
was a kid I had to work for my money. Do you know what my
first job paid?"

And we all answered "You pumped gas for all the soda and candy
you could eat." Because we have heard this many times before.
HH said after the first few days, he couldn't eat near as much candy
or soda. He worked 12 hours a day on weekends for candy.

Then he told us a new story. He shot birds with his BB gun for the
lady next door. Being a smartypants, I said, "What, like that would
get rid of them? More would just fly in to take their place."

HH said, "She didn't do it to get rid of them. It was for her cats.
She felt sorry for them because they watched birds out the window
and couldn't catch them."

"They were for the cats to play with?"

"No. For the cats to eat."

"Eeewww."

"She even bought our BBs, and paid us 5 cents a bird."

Now the boys were really laughing. "Dad! You did all
that for 5 cents a bird? Hey! I just saw 15 cents fly by!"

"Wasn't that a lot of work for a few cents?"

"We shot 4 or 5 a day."

"WooHoo! 20 or 25 cents. What did you spend that on?"

"That was a lot of money back then. I could get a chocolate
soda for 5 cents."

"Eeeww. No wonder. It was a chocolate soda."

"Hey, I thought you got all the soda you could drink anyway."

"No. This was before, when I was younger. Go on and make
fun. I had to work for my money."

"Yeah, like you wouldn't shoot birds anyway."

On the way home after the game, there was a car parked in
the dirt down by that creek. "Look," said smart-alecky #1 son.
"I bet that guy is looking for his linchpin."

Answers to Hillbilly Mom's Movie Challenge v 5.0

And the winner this week is......Rebecca with 9 correct answers, a
new record here at the Hillbilly Cinema. Other results were: new entry
le laquet with 7 (you'd better worry, Rebecca), Redneck Diva and
Alexandrialeigh both improving a whole bunch with 5 apiece, and
Deadpanann with 2 (she's too busy for movies lately). Thanks for
entering, and we'll try again on Saturday.

Here are the correct answers:

1. "You soaked his underwear in meat?"
Cheaper by the Dozen

2. "Stop that fake Dolly!"
Miss Congeniality 2

3. "Please Sir, may I have some more?"
Oliver

4. "Fellas, we're in a tight spot."
O Brother Where Art Thou

5. "We keep the children right around here..."
Daddy Daycare (OK, this was a hard one. The old gypsy-looking
lady on the porch tells Eddie Murphy and Regina King, and leads
them around the house to some cellar doors.)

6. "Don't ever feed them after midnight."
Gremlins

7. "What's she doing here?"
"I carried a watermelon."
Dirty Dancing

8. "Have you tasted yourself lately?"
Garfield: The Movie

9. "That would be harsher punishment for parole violators, Stan
...and world peace."
Miss Congeniality

10. "Fred, these are your pens and your pencils. And Fred, these
are my pens and my pencils."
Little Man Tate

New Favorite Saying

My new favorite saying is brought to you by my 10-year-old son,
courtesy of a trip to the Pee Wee Baseball game Monday night.

We were headed home, and the following conversation occurred:

#2 son: GameBoy, please.

Me: You're not getting it. I said if you didn't stop picking up dirt,
you couldn't have it.

#2 son: No you didn't.

Me: Yes I did. I told Dad to tell you when he came over to 3rd base
and said to quit throwing dirt and get off the base.

#2 son: Well he didn't. And nobody ever throws me the ball anyway.

Dad: I didn't tell him that. I didn't hear you say it.

Me: And anyway, you're in trouble for trying to take over 1st base
and not moving when the coach told you to.

#2 son: Well nobody every throws it to me on 3rd. So I went to 1st.

Me: That other boy plays 1st. Where was the boy that rolls in the dirt?

#2 son: I think they took him off.

#1 son: He probably didn't come because it rained, and that would
spoil his dirt-rolling, Imbecile.

Dad: That's it. You're going to your room when we get home!

#1 son: Mo..om!

Me: It's your own fault. We tell you all the time not to call names.

#1 son: Well, isn't this just one big not-listening party!

That's it. My new favorite saying: "Well, isn't this just one big
not-listening party!" Yep. It pretty much describes life around
the old Hillbilly Mansion.

Childhood Memories

I have been tagged by Redneck Diva for the Childhood Memories
meme, so here goes:

Five Things I Really Miss From Childhood

1. Christmas Eve-the anticipation can not be matched in adulthood.
My mom said when she was a kid, the neighbor would come over
and ask the kids to come to their house for some cookies and hot
chocolate. Every year, she and her three brothers went, and every
year when they got back home, Santa had been there! Oh, the bad
timing! We went to Grandma's (Mom's mom) every Christmas Eve.
That whole side of the family was there. The kids always got
presents from everyone, and the adults drew names. The best
present I ever got there was a little cardboard box full of Barbie
clothes. Grandma always cooked up a pot of chili, and we had
hot dogs, Oberle sausage, cheese, crackers, cookies. We drove
home listening to Christmas songs on the radio. Every time, I would
try to lie awake to see Santa. As the years went on, I was sure it
was really my parents, so I would try to stay awake to prove it.
No such luck. I was never one to snoop for presents. I liked to
be surprised. Christmas morning we were up at the crack of dawn
(or before) to open presents. Stockings first. Then the loot under
the tree. After that, we went next door to Grandma's (Dad's mom)
for breakfast and presents with that side of the family. What I
remember most about this is that Dad and Grandpa did the cooking.
They cracked the eggs into a glass, added milk, and stirred. That
seemed wrong to me. And speaking of wrong, Grandpa put salsa
on his scrambled eggs, and ketchup on his biscuits and gravy. He
always had a jar of pickled pigs feet in the fridge, too. And he was
thin as a rail. No wonder, with a diet like that.


2. Scholastic Book Orders-OK, we've pretty much established that
I was a geek. I LOVED to read. I couldn't wait for book order day.
I usually got 3 or 4 books. Sometimes I snuck a few paragraphs by
lifting my desktop like I was getting a pencil or some paper. I also
loved the time after lunch recess when the teacher read to us to
calm us down. The Bobbsey Twins, The Boxcar Children, Little
House on the Prairie series, all were quite absorbing.

3. Summer of Driving-you know, that first summer you have your
license. You can come and go as you please. We went swimming
at the slime pond, a lake left by the St. Joe Lead Company after
mining all the good stuff out from under us. This was in the days
before the state park. To get there, we had to go to the Sports
Complex and take a little dirt path across this very fine dust until
we reached Monsanto Lake. I don't know how that name came
about. This road was not marked, you just followed the tire marks
of other cars, hoping they had gone to the lake and not off to cut
donuts. We spent the day at the lake, floating on air mattresses
in the shallow water, anchored by resting the head end on the
sand. It was a great time to talk about who was dating who, who
was stalking who, who was breaking up, etc. These were always
girls only trips. At night we would cruise back and forth though
town, honking at our friends. Sometimes we took my yellow
Chevette, sometimes my friend's brown station wagon, or our
other friend's cream-colored Plymouth Valiant.

4. Endless summer-didn't it last forever when you were a kid?
We didn't wear shoes except for thongs. Yes, people, back in
my day, thongs went on your feet, not up your butt. Who started
this infernal nonsense, calling thongs "flip-flops" and panties "thongs?"
We always had something to do: ride bikes, explore the creek,
make clay pots, play army, play ball, play pool, ride the wagon
down the hill, play kick-the-can, swing, play doctor (!), go to
the pool, the candy store, the library, the roller-skating rink, pick
blackberries, go camping, go to Grandma's, a Cardinal's game,
sleep outside, play Johnny West horses, sew horseblankets for
all the horses, cook marbles in Grandpa's basement. There was
never a dull moment.

5. My neighborhood-it was a quiet street where we could ride
bikes or sleds in the road. We could walk to the library, or the
candy store, or to school. There were 7 houses on our block,
and 5 had kids and another was my grandma and grandpa.
There were 15 of us kids, various ages, so always someone
to play with. In the afternoon, the Sug's Sweet Shop van cruised
the neighborhood, ringing a bell. We always bought sno-cones.
In the evening, it was the Mr. Tastee Freeze truck. This was a
peaceful, no-stress, neighborhood. People owned their homes,
went to work, mowed their yards, all with no bickering.

I'm not going to tag anyone with this meme. If you want it,
take it. I am done with it now.

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle....

If the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, then the brain that
files the details rules the house. When did I become the database
for every item and activity in this family? Can't find it? Ask me. Oh,
I don't want you to...but that is what happens around here.

Lose your GameBoy? Here it is, in the couch. Your report card?
Right there in the box, where I told you and you said you looked.
The 2004 personal property tax receipt? Why look! It's in the
drawer where I have placed it every year for the last 10 years!

Is this a man thing? Do we not hold our boys responsible for taking
care of themselves? Are we such caretakers that we want to attend
to their every need?

Yesterday morning, Hubby was off to a family reunion. One of his
relatives (duh!) had called to tell him two weeks ago. He was out
getting gas or some lumber or a haircut or a load of rock or the oil
changed (translation: soda and a donut), so I took the message. I had
just stepped out of the shower, so I didn't write it down. But I told
him as soon as he got home. I figured my job was done. But nooo....

Ten minutes before it was time to leave for the reunion picnic,
Hubby says, "Are you sure that it's today?"

"Well, let's see...two weeks ago she called and said it would be in
two weeks. You said that would be at the end of your vacation
week. Like today. I didn't think I'd have to remember it."

"But they always have it the last Saturday in July."

"Which is probably why she called to tell you."

"Well, in my calendar, I always mark it the last Saturday in July."

"Is it written in there?"

"No. On my calendar at work, I wrote it for today."

"OK then."

Good gracious! He didn't even know my birthday for the first ten
years we were married. Oh, I got a card and present on time. Then
at one of the Christmas parties at his boss's house, a secretary
let it slip that she always had to remind him when it was.

And this is from a man who says he can still remember people's
license plate numbers from when he worked in a gas station in his
teens. Great. Congratulations. In what freakish universe would this
be remotely useful?

This is the man who volunteered to go to the grocery one time when
I was pregnant with #1 son. I gave him a list. He came home minus
$35 and with not one thing on the list. But we had a lot of cookies
and ice cream. He said he lost the list. Between home and the store,
a trek of about 3 miles. And the reason he went ahead and spent
$35 was because he thought of calling me to ask what was on the
list, but decided against it, because he knew I would yell at him. As
opposed to what I'd do when he came home with nothing on the
list and $35 worth of junk food.

OK, I'm done complaining for today. Hubby is good at killing
spiders with his bare hands, and cleaning up vomit, and picking off
ticks, and BBQing, and lawnmowing, and getting rid of dead
possums, and changing light bulbs, and taking out the trash.

And yes, the reunion was yesterday, and Hubby and #1 son had
a good time.