They came out of thin air. (Literally)

Can you say Up-set!

Last year the Mountain Country Plumbing team didn’t exist. In the past year, the fledgling team played near the top of the league all summer long, and on Sunday, won the Gilpin County Softball League Championship Tournament.

“We are the champions,” they chanted at the end of the game, joy in their faces after an intense two days of slamming balls and running bases.

The Tanya Putnam Memorial Tournament began last week on Tuesday. On Thursday night, Mountain Country played the undefeated Rollinsville Rockies, last year’s champions. Mountain Country took the lead but soon the game was tied as the teams battled into the sunset.

Mountain Country played like it was all about winning and inched their way to a 6-6 tie in the sixth inning when the umpire called the game on account of no more light and the playerscouldn’t see. The teams agreed to have a playoff inning first thing Saturday morning before the semi-final championships.

With two teams fired up to play at the end of the season, it was an anticlimactic beginning to the second to last day of games. But the one-inning showdown turned out to be an entire game. Neither team could pull ahead and the game was tied 8-8 at the end of seven innings. And then the Plumbing team forged ahead, beating the Rockies, 13-8.

Then the boys and girls of summer tossed in their mitts.

Small town fun.

You may remember our trip to Colorado around this time last year to the small hippie mountain town where my 2 older sons live. I love this tight-knit community and my son's are thriving there.
We didn't go to visit this year, although my heart strings were yanking on me.

6 weeks ago, I got a call from my oldest son Anthony, to tell me he had severely broken his leg playing baseball. He slid into third and heard it snap as he hit the bag. (He didn't take his foot off the bag to go to the hospital though, until they had a pinch runner for him.)

Surely he would need him Mom to come take care of him for a few weeks while he had to stay off his feet. Umm guess not. He had plenty of friends and lots of help and he didn't need ME, thank you very much. He figured out how to play the sympathy card quickly and had girl friends taking him to the grocery store, post office, doctors appointments and buddies taking him with them golfing, fishing and to the softball games. He has been having plenty of fun with out his Mommy there to take care of him.

This is from the local paper at the end of July.



GILPIN COUNTY TIMES: Gilpin County’s summertime softball is just for fun - most of the time. The players consist of men, women and young athletes just out of high school. There are some retired baseball veterans and some innocent newcomers to the game. There are married couples and singles looking for a double. Most of all there is the spirit of friendly competition, the old-time rivalries and the moments of heroism, when old bones slide into unforgiving bases. (Old bones? Geez, he's only 25!)

Well I am proud to announce that they just won the championship last week. When the little local paper updates their website. I will post a picture of my sons in their Championship uniforms! Anthony is the one with the broken leg.

Once there was a way

Yeah, I know. You keep coming to look for a new blog and there hasn't been one in ages.
I apologize. I apologize with a gift. This guy is totally amazing.

Punch Out the President! (and Pals)

Look at the little gem I found at the 99 cents only store, in the kiddie section, right next to the Bratz coloring books and the 99 cent version of the King James Holy Bible. It's a paper doll book of Dubbya and friends. I wonder if it comes with a Satan costume.

Mile 1.

Hey you. Yeah you. Huge corporation that I dedicated the past 10 years to.
Work/Life Balance. HA. THANK YOU for laying me off! You can have your stupid parking space back! I've started my own business.

Yeah, life can be tough, but it's never too late to get a new one!

The Happy Pose

Kids today are under a lot of stress. Homework, good grades, pressure to compete with other children, endless activities -- it all adds up. So Henry and I have added one more activity to our endless schedule. We started taking Yoga to help us relax. Here is Henry in his favorite poses. He called them his Happy pose and his I wish I was on the sofa watching TV pose.

Number Eight, from 1975

I have been getting requests to finish my 8th "meme." (The other 7 are here in case you missed them.) It's hard for me to choose an 8th and final one as I could give you 888 from my colorful life. Fortunately for you dear readers, I have forgotten most of my childhood. So here I go, by popular request with number 8. A cube. A Fibonacci number. A theory that makes use of an example about the rate at which rabbits breed but reminds me how much I hated math. Sorry, I digress.

Blog this Mom suggested I write about the time I snuck out of the house to go to the Welcome to my Nightmare concert, my parents had forbidden me to go to. Good enough.


It is 1975. I am 17. My carry a big stick, religious, control freak mother considered Alice Cooper a menace to society. With his graphically theatrical stage show of blood and gore that included dead babies, black widows and his own simulated death via guillotine, she considered his performances as a sign of the apocalypse. I considered them a sign of the ultimate revolution against parental control. And I wanted to join.

My parents pretty much kept us under lock, key and alarm system. (My brother and I both figured out how to get out any time we wanted and he ran away numerous times - but that is stuff for another blog, or his blog - if he has one.)

I tried to calculate the odds of getting caught and decided whatever they were, it would be worth it to see Alice Cooper. In my attempt to duck the Fort Knox-like motion sensors and the 3rd from the bottom step alarm, the wired basement window and the weight sensitive driveway bell, I forgot my purse. I made it 15 miles to the venue but without the $16.00 I needed for a general admission ticket. So I determinedly stood outside the ticket office and panhandled for coins the kindly passer-bys would chuck at me. Hey, I made it into the concert and back home before my parents were the wiser. I am nothing if not determined, and that concert was worth every penny - priceless even.

The other day a lady came up to me in the parking lot of Vons, with a story about how she was supporting her homeless family after being laid off in a bad job market and she needed money for tampons or something. I handed her $3.00 and went in to do my shopping. When I was going through the checkout, I saw her with my $3.00, buying lottery tickets in the front of the store. Creative. Nothing if not determined, I guess. I wonder if she knows the odds of winning are 80 million to 1. She probably hates math too.

Sweet, Sweet Victory...

“He that can have Patience, can have what he will.” - Benjamin Franklin

Henry and I patiently waited in line. At last we can eat again!!

WORD! For the 4th...

...what Aaryn at RubySoho said.

State Fair Faces 2007

Last year I did a short blog about the hardened faces of carnies.

This year, I have to say fair organizers seem to have found a better crop of carnies. Dare I say even healthy, well rested and less drug-addict looking.

This may explain it.

Adventurous food.

I am desperately trying to get Henry to expand his food horizon beyond peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, bagels and ProMax bars. I am constantly trying to convice him to try new things. Tonight I may have gone too far.

Mum: "Henry try this. It's really good. Seriously, you'll like it."

Henry: "NO WAY!! I am NOT eating the EVIL CRACKEN."

One more thing...

Today my blog is 1 year old. Happy Bee-day blog!

The Swarm - Part Duex

I have a bee in my bonnet... I can't believe this didn't make the local news.

Last night, the men in white, set off a bee bomb that killed 80,000 killer bees in the bedroom wall of the house across the street.

Those same bees attacked 15 people on our street earlier yesterday. 11 paramedics and firemen were stung 2 or more times each. They attacked one neighbor and her dog and stung them several times. They also stung the cute guy working across the street 17 times. (I saw him without his shirt today and he has a tattoo over his heart of MY name.) Does anyone have a home remedy for bee stings I can take over to him? (bee still my heart)

Anyway, tonight so far, they have pulled 150 POUNDS of honey from the same bedroom wall the bees were living in 100 yards from my front door. Henry and I got to see bags chocked full of sticky sweet honey combs. Ahh local honey. Good for allergies, except when it has been poisoned to kill off it's 80,000 little factory workers.

Just goes to show, you never know what goes on behind closed doors, under t-shirts or inside walls.

The Swarm

No doubt you have heard or read about the mysterious disappearance of honey bees in the U.S.

While, picnickers may cheer their demise, some websites speculate that this may be due to the increased use of cell phones and the corresponding electromagnetic pollution.

As most of you know, I recently disconnected my land line to go all cellular. But anyone who has tried to talk to me while I am at my house can attest, that was a HUGE mistake, as there is NO CELL SERVICE in my neighborhood.

That may explain this:

When I came home tonight after being gone all day long, my cul-de-sac was blocked off with cones, signs and yellow tape along with a huge sign in the street that said "Killer Bee's!"

As I slowed to read the various signs, a man walked up to me and told me I could go home, but I ought to put the roof up on my car before I drove past the area. Firemen had been here most of the afternoon doing whatever they do to disperse a huge swarm of bees that had descended on our street. And, tonight there were 2 white trucks, working in the dark until after 10PM with men on ladders, wearing white suits. What the hell? I feel like I am in a movie.

The bees (killer or otherwise) have apparently found the only safe-haven from that debilitating condition known as, ahhh, bee membrane sensitivity syndrome. Or.... Tom, have you been chucking basketballs at the bee balls again?

Click here to view the spread of killer bees in the U.S.

Cyber-begging for a really good friend...

This is a message I got from someone I really love, who is ill and beginning to get desperate. I promised I would try to help in whatever small way I can so I am trying to get the message out. NO PRESSURE, SERIOUSLY!! But if you are interested, his story can be found here: Lymphocytic Dad

I am opening my heart Chakra's with this...

my new car, in Paprika Red.

Me Me Me

Blog this Mom has tagged me for a thing called “meme”. The object of meme is to blog eight random facts about myself and then pass it on. I Googled meme and found a website that explained a meme like this: Memes are contagious ideas, all competing for a share of our mind in a kind of Darwinian selection. As memes evolve, they become better and better at distracting and diverting us from whatever we'd really like to be doing with our lives. They are a kind of Drug of the Mind. Kind of like blogging.

I am not sure anyone will find MY memes worthy of being considered a drug of the mind (more like diarrhea of the mouth) but since I have been tagged... here goes ... (she made me do it)

The rules:

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.


Fact #1. Cue the Sun!

My childhood was a constructed reality show. The very 1st Truman Show. No, the very 1st Survivor. Without going into the Mommy Dearest detail, I was adopted by a women who did not like children. I suspect she adopted so she could have little personal servants. My adopted brother and I were the family Cinderella's. We did all the chores, made and served cocktails and entertained the guests, painted the house, took care of the 7 1/2 acres of lawn and the 6000 sq. ft. house we grew up in. When we went out or had company over, she would dress us alike, so as to appear like a cute little matchy, matchy family set. My mom, my sister (her biological child) and I, all had several matching outfits, complete with matching scarves we tied under our chins. It was really creepy.

Our "reward" for a perfect performance, was a beautiful home with a sparkling swimming pool, clay tennis courts, a basketball court, a volleyball court, a trampoline, several boats and a private plane. Oh and a good education at a private, all girls school.

I always felt like there had been a big cosmic mistake made. This life was not real. This was not MY life. Somebody accidentally switched me at birth. Right? Then at a mere 6 or 7 years of age, I made a conscious decision to pretend that I was an actor in a television show or movie. My every drama being documented and filmed. I decided that all I had to do was be the best performer in my "Truman Show" and I would be released with an award for Best Child Actor in a Reality Show and I would be able to go live my REAL life. I was 6 or 7, jumping on the trampoline when I got this bright idea. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was totally convinced that this was the answer. I have since learned that this is a survival technique. We don't have to accept the reality of the world with which we are presented, but we usually do.

Fact #2 Kiss me I am IRISH.

When I was 30, I searched for and found my biological family. I could easily write way more than 8 cool facts about that, but I will just tell this one for now. When I finally found and met my biological father, he gave me the best gift an adopted kid could EVER receive. The most incredible unimaginably fantastic gift; he presented me with a beautiful 312 page leather bound book that traced my genealogy back to 1657 with solid facts, photos and documents, and back to the savage tribes of Ireland to about 570 BC. Yes I said B.C.!

Geneological records were preserved among the early Irish with unusual care, and the achievements of ancient heroes were handed down from generation to generation much like Homer's Iliad among the Greeks. The chronology is very uncertain but a Father Murphy of Kildare Country (from 1896-9) attempted to trace the ancestry back to Ugaine, who is alleged to have died in 570 B.C. after being head King of Ireland for 40 years. The stories in this book are incredible and my father even dog-eared and underlined names in the book connecting me as far back as great-great-great grandparents. Mine. The adopted kid who had 30 years of not knowing anything about my biology, suddenly knew more than I could have ever dreamed! Probably more that most people know. I HAVE ROOTS! Me. OK, where are the cameras?




Fact #3 I need a 12 Step-Program
I am hopelessly hooked on mashed potatoes and Natural Thick Cut Sea Salted potato chips. I eat them all the time (especially for breakfast). I have had to admit to a power higher than myself, that I am powerless over potatoes. I must be IRISH or something.
Oh, wait... see Fact #2.

Fact #4 There is a little bit of Broadway in everyone.

I love drama. Though I have had plenty of it in my life, its not the life drama that I like so much. It is the theater. And I especially LOVE musicals. I was in heaven last night eating potato chips and watching the Tony's. They made me want to learn to dance and sing, then grab Henry and run off to New York/Broadway. That leads me to Fact # 5.


Fact #5 I might be an elf or a hobbit

I suppose most people love to travel or go on vacation anyway, but I really have a deep wanderlust spirit. Wanderlust is a term used in a series of book I have never read, that describes a genetic process that a race called "Kender" (Which are akin to wood elves or hobbits) go through, during which they are overpowered by an insatiable urge to leave behind any permanent location for residence and simply explore. I have that, and would think nothing of picking up and moving on a whim (and I have many times.)

But, I have finally put down some roots and have a real home base. This is the longest I have stayed in one place. But it doesn't stop me from bumming around when I can. My passport currently has 27 or 28 stamps in it. I want to go somewhere I have never been, every year and now I am going to start to take Henry with me. Poor little bug-a-lug. He won't have much choice. I will continue to travel until I can't do it anymore but at least I have somewhere stable to call home and I will never again, come home with a new husband.

Fact # 6. I could use a companion this year

After not dating for 5 years or so, I might be ready to venture out this year. I need to find a boyfriend who:
- Doesn't ever want to get married
- Is kind to kids and animals
- Is sensitive, perceptive, intuitive, creative and loving
- Is a brilliant conversationalist
- Is adventuresome and loves to travel
- Is a theater lover more than a sports fan
- Is as smart as Steve Jobs and as funny as Steve Martin
- Has emotional and physical strength but will not mind if I am forgetful or gain a few pounds and won't mind if I eat potato chips in bed

What do you suppose are my chances?

Fact # 7 Me and Jim Morrison are kindred spirits

No, I don't get totally hammered and dangle off hotel room balconies. But Jim did have a habit which I rather like. I think he must have hated doing laundry as much as I do. He would go buy a new outfit every day and leave the dirty one behind in the dressing room. He shed his skin like a snake and never looked back.

If I were rich, instead of doing laundry when my clothes got dirty, I'd go buy a whole new wardrobe. Then I'd put all the dirty clothes in the bin, and go buy more new clothes.

Fact # 8 and a list of new meme recipients coming soon. (I only know one other person that blogs)

Kaboom! Your Oxi is clean and your Orange glows…

(THIS IS TRUE STORY!)

When Henry was a tiny baby, I remember being completely amazed at his reaction to infomercials. “Adverts” as Henry calls them now. This child had no interest in Black Adder, or M.A.S.H. Nor could I convince him to even look up for a second at Sesame Street, Barney or Teletubbies, but Billy Mays got him every time. A peddler, a pitchman, trafficker of cleaning products made Henry look up and watch with eyes wide open for the full 2 minutes every single time he came on the telly. He was great at creating a sense of urgency. Get it NOW really stuck with Henry.

A conversation with Henry the other night while I was working on the computer and he was watching Nickelodeon.

H: (Running down the hall) Mummy, Mummy, you have to let me get on the computer RIGHT NOW!
M: I am working Hen, what is so important?
H: I have to sign up TODAY for Westwood College’s Online Program.
M: What College? You’re 7? What are you talking about?
H: Mummy, they said on Nickelodeon that I can go online to learn to animate and design video games. I have idea’s and I want to design one NOW. Go to the website NOW please. Right NOW please. NOW OK? NOW, please Mummy.
M: OK, let’s go see what it says. (There was no way he was going to let me finish my work until I went there and checked it out.)
M: Sorry Henry, it says here that you have to graduate from High School to take these classes. You are only in 1st grade.
H: It’s OK. YOU went to college. Pretend it’s you signing up and I will take the classes… or how ‘bout you sign up and learn how to do it, and then you can teach me. Do it Mummy. At least ask for more information NOW.

I sent in an online request for more information that night with Henry looking over my shoulder, directing me as to what to ask. How long does it take? How much does it cost? How old do you have to be? Do you really have to graduate from HS before you can learn?
He came to me 3 times Sunday night asking me to check my email to see if they had answered yet and he directed me Monday morning to keep checking email while he was in school, just in case they answered.

I have gotten 3 hard sell phone calls, from admission advisors since then, asking me when I want to start Westwood College of Game Art and Design. The program costs $70,000. And it takes 3 years. He wouldn’t be able to design a game until he was in 4th grade.

I gave Hen the bad news… I told him that it was way too expensive I didn’t have that kind of money right now.

He went away (dreams crushed) for about 5 minutes then came running down the hall again…

H: Mummy, Mummy, do you have any scrap gold? We could sell it for cash! I just saw an advert on Nickelodeon about how to get fast cash for your scrap gold to make extra money for anything you want. And if you go to www.goldkit.com you can get a FREE gold kit to send in your teeth today. And shipping is free!

Do it Mummy won’t you please? NOW?

Moving on...

I have been on vacation from a job that I will have only 3 more days. All week I have been making lists of things I need to do and I have been amazingly unproductive. This may explain it.

I think I will need a better plan for my unemployment months.

Do onto others? Or take the high road?

I have been getting emails asking why I felt the need to post Get a therapist...it lasts longer, so I have decided to tell you-all why, without "outing" the perpetrator.

I am doing this because I may have upset family and friends who read my little blog but don't always comment. I want them to know that I do not consider them creepy lurkers just because they don't comment.

And I want to thank the others for the insightful commentary on gossip.

Statistically, there are a relatively small subset of blog readers who comment regularily. And I don't expect anyone to even be that interested in my musings, let alone have something to say about them.

But a little over a week ago, I heard from a few friends that "someone" was overheard gossiping about me, citing something they claimed to have seen on this blog. Luckily for me I guess, this person is a well known trouble-maker/gossip - but it still didn't make me feel better at the time, especially because it involved my child.

I have had time to reflect and for the record: I expect those of you who are loosely connected to me, but do no really know me at all, NOT to use information found here to twist and fabricate tales to create drama and gossip that could potentially hurt a child. I could care-less what you say or think about me, but don't mess with Henry.

Additionally, the message I would like to send to "this person" specifically, if they happen to read this, is that while I have no control over you reading my public blog, nor do I have control over the small mindedness of your gossip, I do have control over how I will react and behave. And I vow not treat you the way you have treated me. Actually I vow not to give a shit one way or the other about what you have to say.

Get a therapist - it lasts longer.

The definition of Lurk, according to UrbanDictionary.com:

Lurk
On a messageboard or anything similar, to browse the board often, but without ever posting anything.

Lurker
Someone who is creepy and reads your comments on your web profile to find stuff out about you.
Possible reasons for this could be:
-They don't know what to say
-They are pretending to have friends
-They are trying to scare you
-They are there just to be seen with you, as if they have some kind of relationship with you.

Lurker Who Needs to Get a Therapist
Someone who lurks on your website and then uses the information in a feeble attempt to create gossip and ill will about you and/or your family.

When musical inspiration hits...

and all you have is a dirty napkin...
Go for it.

They were so poor that....

...they ended up living in a rolled up newspaper at the bottom of a septic tank. It would be funny if it wasn't true for the 1.5 million Americans who may lose their homes to foreclosure this year.

Pop Quiz: Which of these products do you think makes sense?

(a) The "balloon mortgage," in which the borrower pays only interest for 10 years before a big lump-sum payment is due.

(b) The "liar loan," in which the borrower is asked merely to state his annual income, without presenting any documentation.

(c) The "option ARM" loan, in which the borrower can pay less than the agreed-upon interest and principal payment, simply by adding to the outstanding balance of the loan.

(d) The "piggyback loan," in which a combination of a first and second mortgage eliminates the need for any down payment.

(e) The "teaser loan," which qualifies a borrower for a loan based on an artificially low initial interest rate, even though he or she doesn't have sufficient income to make the monthly payments when the interest rate is reset in two years.

(f) The "stretch loan," in which the borrower has to commit more than 50 percent of gross income to make the monthly payments.

(g) All of the above.

If you answered (g), congratulations! Not only do you qualify for a job as a mortgage banker, but you may also have a future as a Wall Street investment banker and a bank regulator.

One cheeky lender went so far as to advertise what it dubbed its "NINJA" loan -- NINJA standing for "No Income, No Job and No Assets."

In fact, these innovative products are now so commonplace, they have been the driving force in the boom in the housing industry at least since 2005. They help explain why outstanding mortgage debt has increased by $9.5 trillion in the past four years. And they are, unquestionably, a big factor behind the incredible run-up in home prices.

This information is from a Washington Post article by Steven Pearlstein that explains all too well, why 1.5 million Americans may lose their homes to foreclosure and soon will be living in a rolled up newpaper at the bottom of the road. At least they won't have to worry about how they will afford to fix it, if the roof springs a leak.

Subprime Panick Attack

Latest count of major US mortgage lenders that have croaked since late 2006: 50 and counting

AKA: Why I am no longer employed.

Things to do with a card board box

1. Throw it in the garbage
2. Send it to the waste-recyclers
3. Turn it into a solar box cooker
4. Use it as an oven to bake potatoes
5. Turn it into a composter that finally composts itself
6. Feed it to compost worms
7. Make a garden and grow vegetables in it
8. Make an incubator - Hatch eggs in it
9. Make an armchair
10. Live in it

My conversation with Henry this morning after I picked him up from Dad's:

Me: So Henry, did Daddy tell you what happened with my job Thursday? (I thought he'd use the opportunity to diss me for sure)
Hen: No, Mummy. What happened?
Me: I lost it. I got laid off.
Henry: Gasp... What?
Me: Oh Henry, don't worry we are totally fine!
Henry: No we are not! When people lose their jobs, they have to live in a cardboard box.
Me: Seriously, we are fine! I have been with the company for 10 years. I got a great severance package!
Henry: Never mind about that. Will we have a library? A basement? Wireless internet in our box? I'll need it for my laptop!

Me: Hen-Hen, you have been reading Calvin and Hobbes again haven't you?

The best present for a little mogul.

You may have read in a previous post that Henry intends to grow up and become a wealthy real estate tycoon.

He now has everything he needs to make his dreams come true, thanks to the best birthday present ever for a little up-and-coming mogul.

Real-Estate-Tycoon-In-A-Box. (Cute little assistant in the background not included.)
1. Business Cards and Holder
2. Personalized Purchase Contracts
3. For Sale Signs
4. A Coffee Mug - for the Starbucks run
5. A Calculator - to calculate his HUGE commissions
6. A Good Pen
7. A Camera and Film - to take pictures of his Real Estate holdings.
8. A Note Pad - to take notes during meetings with clients
9. A Real Estate License.

This perfect birthday gift was given to Henry by his school mate Jordan and his clever mom Mia.
He was over the moon when he opened it. Before you could say "Entrepreneur" Henry had an office set up, ready for business, complete with a bright smile and new advertising signs. All he needed were clients, which he found in his more-than-willing parents, sister and brother-in-law. He made "WE'RE OPEN" and "NEXT" signs, and one at a time, called his new clients into his office. He interviewed each and wrote down exactly what features they were looking for in their next house, and then calculated the price range.

The next day he insisted we move the furniture in his room
around so that his desk (currently up against the wall) was placed in
such a way that 2 clients could sit across from him at a time. He
framed his license, made a few signs and was open for business.
Look for calendar door hangers in your neighborhood soon.

My Mom is blogging this...

No I am not.

Everyone knows, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I guess I should mention that it was an educational trip. :-)

Shirts and inspiration: Compliments of Laura's Mom

Under penalty of law - do not disturb this tenant

For the past 2 years, Henry has announced to anyone who will listen, that he plans to be a real estate tycoon when he grows up. He wrote in his Kindergarten journal last year that when he gets bigger, he plans on buying and selling lots of houses and buildings and that he would buy me a nice big mansion someday. Buying your mother a mansion is a noble goal I suppose, but there have been times when this ambition has proved a bit embarrassing. He doesn't seem like the bossy, stepping-over-bodies-on-your-way-up type, and I can't see him with a horrid comb-over telling people they're fired, but he has been known to go for playdates to a school mates house, and question their parents about much they paid for their house.

Yesterday Henry was in his room for ages and I finally wandered upstairs to see what he was doing. He had posted notices all over his bedroom door.
READ THIS:
Do not disturb!
Game in progress. (sometimes)
OR taking a nap OR you get the idea!

READ THIS!!!!
(He circled and cut out specific clauses from a rental contract that was laying around on my desk.)
In compliance with the law, the Owner/Agent may not threaten to actually reduce or terminate services to the Renter, raise the rent or evict the renter if the purpose is retaliation against the renter for seeking the following... the rest is cut off.

READ THIS!!!!
The Renter will permit the Owner with reasonable notice to enter the rental between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. to redecorate or repair premises... Such entries shall take place only with the consent of the renter...blah blah blah... or if the Owner believes that an emergency exists which requires immediate entry such entry may be made without the Renters consent.

P.S. No Aliens allowed!

I don't know for sure, but I think he means business. And while he doesn't get bossy with me directly, he IS practicing on the dog.