Tonight, after my daughter’s softball practice, she and I went to my Grandma’s apartment to get her mail and leave her mail key on the table for my mom so she can now get the mail since she only lives a couple of blocks away and it’s more convienent. We walked in and this foul, foul odor hit our noses.

“What is that?” my daughter asked crinkling her nose?

“I don’t know. Let’s find some Oust.”

While I went to the bathroom for the spray and to go to the bathroom since I refuse to use Porta-Potty’s unless I absolutely have too, K discovered stinky water in the tea kettle. So, we dumped it and I put Dawn in it to soak because it stunk. But that wasn’t the source of the smell. While I was doing this, K made the grizzly discovery of one smoked pork chop buried underneath two oven mitts and a towel sitting on top of a toaster. The Zip lock was unzipped. This had been there since the day after Easter when my Uncle and Aunt made a surprise visit.

Thank God it was smoked and not a regular pork chop.

I called my Grandmother who is in Alabama visiting and attempted to tell her I found the pork chop she said she didn’t know what happened too. She’d assumed she put it back in the freezer. She was so wrong.

Me: I made a grizzly discovery.

Grandma: You saw a grizzly bear?

Me: No. I made a discovery.

Grandma: What?

Me: *sighs* I found something gross in your house.

Grandma: What!

Me: *loudly* Remember when you said you didn’t know what happened to your pork chop you’d pulled out of the freezer the day Uncle and his wife showed up?

Grandma: I did?

Me: Yes, you did.

Grandma: Oh, I don’t remember.

Me: Anyhow, we found it.

Grandma: Where was it?

Me: It was on top of your toaster underneath oven mitts and a towel.

Grandma: Where?

I repeat this four times. I kid you not.

Grandma: Well, who in the hell put it there?

Me: It sure wasn’t me.

Grandma: I didn’t do that. Oh, God, the neighbors probably smelled it.

Me: No, it wasn’t that bad. ( Yet.)

Grandma: Who put it there?

I’m thinking it was you since no one else lives with you.

Me: It’s a mystery.

Grandma: What about my history?

So sorry to be away all of last week. I wanted to take my laptop with me, but felt it’d be frowned upon as my pen and notebook was. Apparently, it’s a Pennsylvania law that you are not allowed to take notes during jury duty–any part of it–and I didn’t think the man beside me would enjoy hearing about his annoying habit–ala sharing with the class what I was writing, so like a good girl, I put it in my car during a break.

Why the title? Dee coined me Forest. Why? Because stupid things happen to me for no apparent reason. Or not so stupid things. I think some of them are just dumb luck–she says it’s a Rae thing.

If you’ve ever seen The Moth Man Prophecies, you’ll have caught a glimpse into the area I spent the week in. I haven’t watched this movie, but during filming, we went up there to catch a glimpse of Richard Gere. The county I’m in is very rural. The courthouse is gorgeous and I should’ve taken a picture of it. It’s very old and well taken care of. Now, here is where I tell you that my step-father took very good care of this place for over twenty years until he passed away. He’s been gone for ten years, but assuredly not forgotten. His picture hangs in the Annex and because we spent a great deal of time at said Courthouse, people know me. This is where things get tricky.

The security guard is an old friend of the family, so I walk in with a lot of other people coming in behind me and he looks at me and says, “I don’t want to see your face here. You better be on the jury and not here for a trial.”

:holy:

“Who are you?” I ask him once he scans my purse and I walk through the security…thing.

He looks injured. “Dusty Deputy Dog.”

It takes me a moment. I found out he couldn’t remember my name either, but it’s all good. He gave me a hug, said his wife loved my book, asked how the rest of the family was and scooted me on my way. He made me stand out to the rest of the people behind me in line and anywhere in the vicinity of his voice. I don’t like being pointed out. Honestly, I don’t. It makes me uncomfortable.

Dusty, proceeded to alert the judges and anyone else that I was in the building. Nice of him, wasn’t it?

(more…)

I have Jury Duty this week. :hissy: