For years now, I have thought that, if Hell actually exists and if each Hellish experience is tailor-made to the individual sinner, my version would involve close proximity with Billy Mayes. You know who I’m talking about, the huckster on commercials/infomercials who yells, nay SCREAMS, at me to buy Oxyclean/Kaboom/500 lb-test hooks/absorbable cloth/you name it. Why does he have to yell at me? I never did anything wrong to him; I bought his Kaboom. Why won’t he leave me alone?!
My current flu-that-won’t-leave reminds me of this guy. It’s a little Hell on Earth, perhaps a warm-up (pardon the pun) for what’s to come. Just when I think it’s over me and has decided to move its germs elsewhere, it insidiously sneaks back, at night, when I am trying to do that inconvenient but necessary sleep thing. It sees my horizontal form and pounces like Tigger’s doppelganger until I cough and cough (and cough) until the next thing I know I’ve chugged the remaining Nyquil and gone through ¾ of a bag of cough drops.
Please make it go away. And if there is any true good left in the world, make Billy go away, too.
Despite all this, I did make it to the RVHA 10th Anniversary Picnic on Saturday. I promised to help man the booth (we raffled lots of good stuff) and I don’t like to let the Well-Deserved Girls’ Group down. Plus, the picnic is always great fun. The food is good, the company better, and the entertainment is top-rate.
As usual, a certain Pint-Sized Farmer/Rancher stole the show. 
Not only did he monopolize this horse, he had to go all Mr. Ham on us. It runs in the family, doncha know.
Here is my friend Mo playing jump rope with an equine friend and Elaine. It’s always good to see Mo kick up her heels a bit. She works too hard and is very responsible unlike yours truly.
Her hubby John (who she recently beat in a reining competition; chalk one up for the women) kicked back with a certain handsome man I know, John’s brother Rocco (Cowboy U viewers might recognize him as the host), and a new friend whose name I am sorry to say I can’t remember. She was very nice and patient and took the Pint around the trail 10,000 and one times, hence her posture.
A good time was had by all, making my rare moment of toughing it out well worth it. Don’t expect it to happen again anytime too soon; I have to keep my inner wimp close at hand. She’s been with me for 45 years now and I have to let her down gently. She will be leaving soon enough though, of that I am convinced.
Enough of the cowboys (and why is HH not wearing a cowboy hat?); we want lambs! Come oooon, Cookie!
Posted by: Michelle | March 10, 2008 at 01:28 PM