Value Added

First, please take a look and vote on the talents of your fellow bloggers so they can win some loot!

I just have to break down a moment here and say that I have had a bad string of events over the past couple of days. Sure, they're not life altering, wow-type things, but they still made a massive impression. It's things like the following that make me want to move to another planet.

On Sunday, we showed up to a soccer game (Mr. Savy and I are the coaches.) We had only been there a moment and had just started unloading our car when a parent and player from our team approached us. He was livid. There had been a miscommunication, and he had arrived two hours earlier. He started threatening Mr Savy, demanding "honor" and saying they should "go take a walk and settle this the old fashioned way." OVER. A. TIME. DISCREPANCY!

Mr. Savy kept trying to smooth it over. He apologized that there was a mix-up, but it wasn't totally his fault. He manages the league, and two teams personally (I should add that we don't get paid a single solitary cent for any coaching, travel costs, or anything else. This is 100% volunteer on our parts. ) So, to keep everything straight he sends off an email with that week's schedule to every single player. He also puts it in an online calendar. Mentioning this only made the guy even angrier. In retrospect, I can see that it was that he was embarrassed. He doesn't have a computer, he doesn't get email, he doesn't access the internet - which he told us then. His ex-wife, whom the player lives with does have access, but apparently she isn't sharing the information with him. However, no one told us that they didn't have access, so how exactly were we supposed to know? We had contact info for each player, and sent out the details - that he didn't get them wasn't something we were aware of, but he took it as a personal attack.

Anyway, the guy kept getting angrier and angrier (and he is a big, biker-guy with the whole leather get-up and everything,) and stepping into Mr. Savy's face and threatening him. Mr. Savy, being male - started reacting to it. I figure there is only so long a male can hold out before testosterone takes over when you are threatened. It's got to come down to pure biology and survival of the fittest at some point.

So, I stepped in between them. Smart, eh? I used my best "mommy is so ticked off at you right now" tone and yelled "That's Enough!"

But seriously? Why the hell do people just go for physical violence anytime anything goes wrong? It's not just a male thing, it's a female thing too. I hear the stories in my hair salon. I don't want to, but I hear them. I understand the whole charge from being physically forceful... I do! If I didn't, I wouldn't have two different kinds of full size punching bags and training swords that I love way more than my running shoes. I wouldn't enjoy kicking and punching the heck out of them so much, that I think I may actually crave it.

But I would never hurt another person, unless they were threatening one of mine. That's my only criteria. I'll reason with you until the cows come home (literal statement out here, you know.) But if I find a stranger standing over my child's bed? I'll kill him. I don't mean maim, and then call the police. I'm talking cessation of life for even getting that close to my children with nefarious thoughts. I think it's a hormone-X-chromosome-mommy-thing. I wasn't like this before children.

Anyway, the fight ended (anyone else notice it was on mother's day? Fun for me, let me tell you.) The rest of the day we just couldn't quite recover. I was thrown. We saw Speed Racer (a very good movie for an 7-12 yr old boy, and Mr. Savy seemed to like it too.) But I still didn't feel like I had a good day.

Yesterday, I had two finals. I won't even go into it, except to say I had a major issue with one which featured questions never taught in the class, I don't think they were even in the book. But even if they were - they were never a part of the curriculum. Then I had the fun experience of being told that I am not a person that adds any value to the human race/society. Another online friend was told that she added too much value this past week (which is complete nonsense, by the way - it'd be impossible for her to do so.) So, I think I was especially aware of the phrasing when it came my way. Ironic really, she was told she added too much (as a way to shush her,) and I was told I added nothing at all as a human being. At least it was phrased better, I'm getting a little tired of hearing that I'm a waste of space. I know, same thing, but I like the variation.

I went home rather muddled. I could say that I was upset, but muddled is better. I was angry, tried, frustrated, defensive, and really damn sad. A big part of me just wants to throw my hands up in the air and scream "You win! I GIVE UP!" I stayed that way for the rest of the day.

And then, just after I tucked my kids into bed, a coyote tried to eat my dog.

No, I'm not kidding. I had let my two little dogs out (Pomeranian, and Lhasa Apso) but the big Labrador was snoozing somewhere in the house. Not a couple minutes later I heard lots of yelping from my dogs (like they had been hurt.) I opened the door and the Lhasa ran in, and not a three feet from me was a giant coyote (they look like timber wolves this far north.) That coyote didn't even care that I was standing there with all the lights on, only a few feet from him. He was determined to kill my other dog. I think it may have been the copious amounts of fur that saved him, because he managed to double back (while I was shouting like crazy) and darted into the house. He seems fine today, he's already taken on the cat this morning.

But still.... After everything else going to hell in a hand-basket, something tries to eat my dog?!?!

My thoughts keep darting around, trying to decide which horrible thing to chew on. They sound something like "I can't believe that jerk at the soccer game! I should have said this! If I'd only had a shotgun, I would have taught that coyote a lesson (no, not really, but it sounds good, doesn't it?)! I'm worthless, it seems the jury is still weighted in that direction. I suppose I am lucky I have kids, I could never be the person who removed myself from life and left children behind. Bet those jerks are disappointed. I hope I ruin their breakfast with the knowledge of my mere continued existence. Who the hell puts stuff on a final that wasn't even taught, assigned, or covered and makes it count for 30%?!! Man, I'm fat. How does one iron a graduation gown anyway? Will it melt? It doesn't look like real fabric. Maybe I shouldn't even go to graduation, considering I am apparently so lacking in value to humanity in their opinion. Nah, I have dinner reservations afterwards...."

And people wonder why I have insomnia.

It all just feels like one, horrible, awful, long day. I'll probably dissect some of these happenings more precisely, but right now? I feel rather beaten up, on the verge of tears, and like I'm trying to decide between being really physically angry, or so depressed I should just give up and crawl into a corner.

And here I thought this week was going to be so happy and wonderful for me. Yes, I know there are a bazillion people who had/have it worse than me. I don't need to be told I don't have a right to my feelings. I acknowledge I am a speck of dust compared to the real horrors out there stemming from cyclones, earthquakes, and real crimes against humanity. But that doesn't mean that the past few days haven't really been awful. They have. I can't "be happy" and ignore it just because someone is suffering worse than I am.

Vote!

Alright, voting is now open for the contest entries. Since there were very few, the good news is that all the entries will win something. So now you need to vote for your favorite for each category (blanket, or art.) So please vote for your favorite in both polls located at the bottom of the category entries.

Voting will be open all week. As a reminder, you cannot direct people to your story to vote for you, but you can direct them to the post to read the stories and vote for their favorite. If I find that you have revealed which is yours in order to get people to vote, you will be disqualified.

Here are the contestant entries:

BLANKET ENTRIES

Swamp-Girl

I need a blanket to sleep in. My one-eyed Pekinese got swallowed up by an Alligator this morning. She was the only thing I had left after the storm took out the shed me and Pa built with the lumber we found at the dump. Pa got infected with tetanus after stepping on rusty nails we got at the dump. His jaw locked plum tight, then he died of starvation. So here I am, a'starting over after two weeks of the greatest married life anyone could have ever hoped for.

I met Pa at an AA meeting just last month. It was love at first sight. He grinned that silly toothless grin, and I plum near fell off my wooden leg. After we was sober for a whole day together, I knew that we was meant to last. So, I asked him if he felt like getting hitched. We found us a preacher right there in AA who married us right after a meeting. I wanted me a new house to live in, so Pa— being real handy with a hammer —said we would build our own house. So off to the dump we went to gather the lumber and nails we needed to built our love nest. I always wanted me a place on the water and we found us a beautiful little spot right near Sipsey Swamp. Pa got real excited cause the crawdad fishing there is just outta sight. We spent us a whole morning putting that shed together and that’s when Pa stepped on that nail. It didn’t take but a day or two for the lock jaw to set in and Pa hadn’t had any nourishment except some of that Thunderbird wine he was so fond of, I guess his little body couldn’t hang on. I buried him out by the spot where he’d planned to go crawdad fishing.

A gully-washer came in, loaded with lightnin'n'thunder so loud I was shore a train was a comin' up thru the swamp. The wind howled like a blue-tick yawlin' after a full moon. My house just fell down around my feet. I walked away from the rubble with my precious little Pekinese dog. She learned to manage without her eye pretty good, but I think her sense of direction might have been just a bit off kilter. She heard a cat meow over in the woods, and took of after it. She took of the wrong way and headed straight for the swamp and that ol’ gator just popped up and swallowed my puppy whole.

I aint gonna let none of this get me down though, I believe that real good comes after real bad. I am gonna jes write all this down and hope that the lady that’s giving away that blanket will think I am worth taking stock in. I will lay in my blanket in this brand new refrigerator box I found and know that there is some real good people in this world.

The Lightning

Quick, I only have a few minutes left, and I have to convince you to let me win the Cuddle Wrap!

Not just because it looks warm and comfy, or because it would be perfect for lounging around the house in, or any other silly reason that someone else may come up with.

No.

No, I need it because IT WILL SAVE MY LIFE!!

Let me explain...

It all started a couple of weeks ago. Weird things started to happen. People started acting strange. Animals started to disappear. The news stations and papers all glossed it over at first, pretending nothing was happening. Then it got so bad that they couldn't ignore it anymore, so they began to say that things would be back to normal once the sun came back out.

You see...it's been dark for weeks now. Not just an overcast “clouds in front of the sun” kind of dark, but an all encompassing, pervasive blackness.

The only flashes of light we have had are occasional lightening bursts from far off in the distance. People were calm at first...a little mystified maybe...but fine. It was actually pretty peaceful. I don't live in a big town...we'd heard reports of the bigger cities having looting problems, but nothing like that around here. Well, not at first, at least.

Then we noticed something funny about the lightening. It was getting closer. Moving slowly, but with a purpose!

Then, it got cold. Really cold. Like bone-chilling, possible frost-bite kind of cold.

People started freezing to death. The closer the lightening got, the more casualties occurred.

People started getting scared. Panic set in. Houses were broken into, and blankets, sweaters…anything that could keep you warm…were stolen. It got to the point that bodies were being found wearing nothing but swimming trunks, or layers of flimsy Victoria’s Secret lingerie.

I figured out there’s a new social hierarchy in this night. The more clothes you’re wearing, the more respect you get. Unfortunately, I had to leave my house to get food, and I was mugged on the way out of the market. I was lucky to get away alive, but I was left in only my mismatched bra and panty set. I was too cold to even be humiliated.

By the time I got home, my house had been ransacked. I have nothing left to keep myself warm now, and they broke out the windows to get inside. The cold night is permeating every room in my house. Even my tears are frozen.

It’s below freezing out. The house is dark. I hear people laughing outside. Sometimes there’s a scream in the distance. I can’t really feel my legs…

The lightning is closer now. I can see it light up my house. It’s happening more often. There’s no thunder.

I really need that blanket. It would earn me respect, and keep me alive. For a while, at least.

Please. It’s so cold, it even hurts to type.

I need that blanket.

Your Favorite Entry for the BLANKET contest

• 
  
  Swamp Girl


• 
  
  The Lightning

view results
Free vote poll

ART ENTRIES

Poem of Woe…and Pez

Dear friends, my tale is one of woe
Misfortune multiplied
So grab a handkerchief or two
Tears will not be denied

When I was but a lad of three
My parents cut me loose
They left me in a Stop & Shop
‘Twixt dry goods and produce

I searched for them but they were gone
Imagine my distress
A lost and lonely little boy
With no means of redress

I stuffed my pockets full of Pez
Over in aisle four
And determined to find them again,
I walked out the front door

The world is a scary place
For a lad of tender years
So I set out with a heavy heart
And a bucketful of fears

Our home was in a trailer park
I searched for it, distraught
But where once there was a doublewide
Was now only a vacant lot

I sat upon the concrete steps
(They were detached and separate)
And ate my Pez and cried a lot,
Heartbroken and upset

And thus began an odyssey
That’s lasted all my life
A sordid tale of broken dreams
Of wretched, numbing strife

From job to job and town to town
I’ve stumbled blindly on
I ate alone, I lived alone,
Sullen and withdrawn

I’ve been arrested lots of times
Most ending in conviction
I have no real relationship
Just a bad Pez addiction

I’ve lived my life in shades of grey
Devoid of joy and love
I don’t deserve the things I feel
I am unworthy of

I fear now that the end is near
My organs are unsound
It will not be too long, my friends
Before I’m in the ground

I’ve just one wish before I die,
To own one thing of beauty
I have in mind a painting
Created by a red-haired cutie

Celestial in nature,
With a full and shining moon
And slender tendrils floating free
It makes me sigh and swoon

To hold that painting in my hands
Would end this masquerade
And I could face the other side
Peaceful and unafraid


I may be judged unworthy
Some dreams should not be pursued
If so, at least please send me
A case of Pez, or two.



Office Problem

The floor to ceiling windows and subsequent view had me so enraptured that I never really paid attention to the walls. For the most part, this historic Chicago building had been overhauled to combine vintage charm with the aesthetics of modern architecture. And for the most part, the marriage of these two opposing styles was quite successful. However, there were a number of visible bullet holes in the walls which apparently had never been caulked, and I don’t have the time or resources to do the handy work. I’m horrified that I never noticed such an important detail. I need your help, because I’ve already sent postcards to my patients alerting them that the new office of Margaret Ogleton, D.D.S. is open for business effective Monday.



Art Thief

Oh my God. I still feel numb inside. The police lights are flashing outside the giant hole where once there was a wall. The rest of my living room and neighborhood is buried in a surreal blend of red and blue flashers spinning... constantly spinning... just like my emotions.

I shouldn't be surprised. Honestly. A renowned art thief should know better... never get involved with a beautiful woman and actually bring her back to your REAL HIDEOUT! What the hell was I thinking? But how was I to know that she was also a thief? And that she and her band of merry mischief makers were targeting me? I couldn't have known. But I should have at least considered it.

Now, all the masterpieces by Monet, Rembrandt, Matisse, Picasso, and dozens more are gone. Foolishly I had hidden them here awaiting that perfect deal to sell them off and make my millions and live in the south of France. It was mostly a pipe dream, though. How do you sell such famous works that are known to be stolen? I couldn't. I knew it. So, instead, I hung them on the walls of my home. Maybe the world could no longer enjoy them, but I could.

I also grew attached to them. Those fantastic brush strokes. The realities and surrealities brought to life by a combination of paint, canvas, brush, and imagination.

Now, not even I can stare longingly into the visions of these masters. Now I have a hole, both in my wall and in my heart. I must fill this hole. Not my living room, of course. I can never return there. In fact, I should leave my hiding spot down the street immediately before the cops begin to canvass (no pun intended) the neighborhood for clues. If I stick around much longer, I will be caught and sent away for the rest of my lifetime for the crimes I committed.

They now know who I am.

They know who to look for and who to blame for all those art thefts.

I must keep a low profile for a while now.

But I must also have my art. I need my art. I need my fix. And I need it now!

Help me salvage my artist's soul.

If I win, announce it on your blog and I will tell you where you may contact me. I will likely still be on the run and constantly changing not only addresses, but e-mails as well. Don't try to find me, I will find you.

Your Favorite Entry for the ART contest

• 
  
  Poem of Woe…and Pez


• 
  
  Office Problem


• 
  
  Art Thief

view results
Free vote poll

Dandelion

It's dandelion season again. Phooey on all of you dandelion haters, how can you hate this? Literal fields of gold!

Not to mention, they always made the best mother's day bouquets...




Happy Mother's Day!

Uber-Sigh

You only have until midnight to submit your entries for either the art or the blanket! If you need more information, please check out the main contest post, and the clarification post (because it isn't as hard as I originally made it sound)! We have about five entries, this means that you all still have a chance! Come on!


Now, onto my post...

I must admit, I'm rather frustrated with Mr. Savy today. Gas is very close to $4 a gallon for the cheapest version, and he is driving to a soccer game(he's the coach) that... well when all is said and done this one game will cost us $60 in gas just to get him there and back. He said I'm over obsessed about the economy. I said he's got his head in a pile of sand, and I'm tired of it (as I have said before; he is the spender, and I am the budget-save-scrimp-panic-worrier.)

Continuing on the economy line, this morning there is a big job fair going on at one of the biggest employers in the area. I was so exhausted yesterday that I agreed with Mr. Savy that it wasn't important that I go. This morning I am kicking myself, because I didn't line up anyone to watch the kids. I know it's all business, but that IS what my degree is in - and frankly money is getting scary out here. If we're going to stay here, I'm going to have to get a normal job and continue with the painting in my off time. Art just isn't a self-supporting form of employment for 99.99999% of the artists out there.

*sigh*

It could be that I'm just so stressed out that I'm reacting more negatively than usual to some minor annoyances. I have two finals on Monday morning, and then about 20 hours of work for a sort of internship-class to do... and then all I have to do is graduate. You would think I would be ecstatic, but I'm not.

I'm freaked out. About everything. Getting everything done, graduating, family and friends arriving this week, a BBQ the day after graduation... and then all the "real-life" stuff. I'm not sleeping. Seriously. I'm dead on my feet, practically falling asleep at the wheel tired, but when I go to bed I am just -awake!- after only a couple of hours of sleep. But it's not really being awake, because my body is just screaming at me to sleep, but my mind isn't cooperating. I tried some over the counter sleeping "aids", which aided nothing.

I am hoping all of this is just a mirage. That it's all stress-induced panic. But I have to tell you that in the moment it doesn't feel like an illusion. I feel cornered and panicky...

Well that was a miserable post. Sorry. Hopefully I'll swing back to ecstatic by next weekend.

Friday Fling

First, just a reminder. You only have until Midnight, Saturday May 10th (my time, which is EST) to submit your entries for the contest (for those who were intimidated or confused by the entry requirements, please see the clarification here.) We do have several entries, so keep 'em coming!

I've been contemplating what to do with my time this summer, and I actually came up with an idea. Because I have my camera in my studio, I'm obviously going to be painting more - of which you will be able to see. However, one thing people have complained about is that I have erratic hours. I can't help it.

BUT! I have an idea! I'm going to institute for myself a standing Friday Fling! (No, don't go there. It's with my brushes, not with... well.) It's going to be a scheduled time that I am on camera, with the goal to start from scratch and finish a new piece of work within that time. I'm contemplating how long I'm going to give myself. Two hours or less probably. I figure the time slot between noon and two in the afternoon is just about perfect.

So, for those who wrote me asking when the heck I was going to be more consistent with the camera painting - well, I'm just not able to nail myself down like that. But instead, I'm going to offer up a standing Friday Fling which will start in two weeks (because I have to get my daughter's foot x-rayed tomorrow, and next weekend is graduation insanity. It may even get put off one more week beyond that, but I'm hoping not. With the parents here, my studio will be a good place to retreat to.) I'll update the Friday post with the completed work as well.

I figured actually putting this out there and committing to it before I forgot was a good idea too. Now you can all yell at me if I start to flake out on it.

Pain or Pleasure

I heard, in reference dogs, that they are exactly like people; they will do anything for pleasure, and anything to avoid pain, but they'll work twice as hard to avoid pain. Do you think that is true for people?

In truth, I have always thought it was the opposite. I have felt that people are generally pleasure seekers, along with instant gratification. I also have noted pleasure to sooth painful situations (like chocolate during final exams, for a completely unrelated example. *ahem*)

It's got me thinking quite a lot about myself. Believe it or not, I work hard. Really hard. I always feel as though I am being lazy - I am never good enough, working hard enough, nothing will ever be enough... so I push harder, without even realizing it in most cases. Take my college career for example; I never expected to graduate with honors. I figured at best, with everything I have going on, I could be a C student. Instead, I am graduating at the top of my class - summa cum laude. I know that it is only because I kept yelling at myself, pushing myself, telling myself that I wasn't working hard enough, I wasn't doing good enough. A big part of me was genuinely surprised each and every time I received a good grade.

But it's been hard to do that. Incredibly so. I have cried. I have had horrible thoughts. I have wanted to quit. But I didn't. This has literally been a painful experience (on many levels, some of you know of what I speak.) So... why didn't I avoid it? Maybe something is wrong with me, and I'm wired differently? Instead of avoiding pain, I bring it on? Or is it that I worked so hard because not graduating would have been even more painful, thus I worked twice as hard to avoid that pain?

Running is frequently a physically painful thing for me. Working out in general isn't "fun" or pleasurable (though I admit to fully enjoying when I can bench more than Mr. Savy, and lord it over him for the short amount of time until he catches up.) But I don't work to avoid that, as a matter of fact I work to make sure I'm there.... every. darn. day.

It's a little confusing, to be honest. Maybe there are deeper things I am working twice as hard to avoid with my not avoiding the hard things that I could have been avoiding if I was avoiding according to the avoiding theory. (Ok, that was just fun to say.)

Of course, the other possibility is that I am completely defective. I'm wired wrong, and clearly I should be on a beach somewhere seeking out only pleasurable things. Which would involve a chocolate martini, I'm sure.

So tell me, do you work twice as hard to avoid pain as you do to seek out pleasure?

Clarification (CONTEST INFO!!!)

Ok, I think I need to clear a little bit up about the entries for the contest (based on some emails that I received.) They don't have to be epic giant stories worthy of Jane Austen. They can literally just be a litany of excuses and reasons as to why you should be the one to win. They just can't be TRUE.

Yes, you can write a real work of fiction as one option. Absolutely. But you can also say something like:

"I deserve to win because I won the lottery, and then lost the ticket, and then my ex-best-friend who slept with my husband found it, cashed it in, and ran off with my husband. And my dog. And the cat. I was then evicted, and now I'm living in a cardboard box. And it's snowing. And I could really use a blanket... (or some art to hang on the sodden wall...)"

It can be a fictional story too, don't misunderstand. Those are good too. The point was simply to have a little fun creating the best fictional (and irrational) reasons why you should win.

For FUN! No, really! It should be fun!

Sorry for the confusion, folks! (Those who already submitted are fine, so you guys just hang tight.)

And if you don't know what I am talking about, you can check out the original post about the contest. You still have until Saturday to email me your entry!

Ringing The Bell

Before I get started, I think I may be under attack. About five minutes after the bus picked up the kids, gunshots started. I feel that it might be important to mention this fact, just in case the police need some sort of clue as to what happened if I'm taken prisoner. Maybe the chickens across the way are leading a revolt, or perhaps Canada has simply gotten fed up, and decided to take over Vermont. One can only hope.

I think the gunshots are off in the distance... but one can never be sure, as we live in a valley with mountains all around; the echo rocks. I cannot wait until we get the fog bell hung, with these acoustics I'll probably anger the entire village! I'm thinking pitchforks and torches - party time!

What's a fog bell, you ask? Here, let me show you:


It's a 1+ ton hunk of metal that lighthouses used instead of foghorns, technology being absent and all. This one actually belonged to the Ballast Point Lighthouse in San Diego, California. My grandfather found it in the junk yard in the 1960's (the lighthouse had been torn down,) restored it, and then argued with the museum over it for years. I grew up with it, ringing it at his house and ticking off all his neighbors:

As you can see, this picture was taken before he completely restored it and 1) I told you I'm a natural blond, 2) It is possible for me to get a tan, being so pale that I glow in the dark now is more of a recent development since I discovered sunscreen, and 3) Grandpa also had his house located with some decent acoustics... but I think mine here can beat his, and I'm anxious to try.

I think I need to explain that my grandfather was a really strange bird. At his house there were real working cannons, an eyeball tree, giant metal spiders on ceilings (we're talking three feet across, evil looking things), skeletons of various animals all over the place, intact full size jaws of great white sharks, evil tiki-gods nine feet and taller in every dark corner, and metal sculptures of creepy things outside all over the place. The bell was just one more thing he had, next to the giant outdoor macaw cage on top of the hill he lived on. We fed the macaw fig newtons (the bird's name was Guakamaya) and until I was an adult and doing my own shopping, I didn't know that Fig Newtons were people food. (Can I just say how GLAD I am that the early 1980's are over? Because seriously... who dresses like that?)

He eventually lent the bell to the museum for an exhibition (I think he loved lording the fact that he owned it over them,) then got it back and gave it to me before he died so they couldn't claim it. So, I have the bell that is from California way the heck up in the Northeast, and the museum claims they still have it on their website (and others, last I checked... it's been a while) - which I find completely hilarious. Especially since when I contacted them to potentially sell it (to pay for college) they mentioned how I should donate it, and pay the $5,000 shipping too, because I'm such a good citizen.

I'm a broke citizen, and I decided that considering the family history and how it's now a four generational thing for my family, that I'm going to hang it and annoy my neighbors instead. It's all about priorities, people.

Unfortunately, it's been here for many years now and we just haven't hung it yet. It's heavy, and we have to build a structure to hold it. Not to mention, we need to actually MOVE the thing and I wasn't kidding when I said it weighed more than a ton. I was being very literal.

But that is the big project for immediately after graduation! We're in the design stages right now, planning out how we're going to accomplish this. There is only one problem... the best tree I have growing on my property mysteriously sprung up between the slats of the pallet the bell is sitting on:

I am NOT going to ruin that tree. I'm in love with that tree. So now it gets even trickier. Mr. Savy doesn't care about the tree, but I have warned him. I will chain myself to that tree in order to save it. I've threatened other things too, so I'm confident he'll figure this out to my satisfaction.

Once we get it hung, I'll post a video for everyone. I can't wait! I know there is a joke in there somewhere... "how many Vermonter's does it take to hang a fog bell?"

In other news, we only have one entry so far for the contest! Come on people! You only have until Saturday! And it's easy! Just a fictional reason (sob-story) about why you should win the prize! Anything from a well structured one-liner up to 500 words can be submitted for voting on - what are you waiting for?