Category: Uncategorized (Page 15 of 114)

So, we’ve watched the Power of Ten, because there’s really nothing new on, and everything we’re DVR’ing right now is interesting only to us individually, not collectively (soaps vs. poker!), and one of the questions was what percent of 100 American women say they’ve had a fantasy about a firefighter? And the Wo said something high, and I picked something very low, and it WAS very low, under 20%.

But we just had a big ol’ fire alarm here at the office? And I may need to revise that number. We got not only one fire truck, but TWO, including the one with the big ladder. Loaded with beefy men in heavy suits (I felt bad for them given the weather). Carrying big poky things, oxygen tanks, and other rescue paraphernalia. Hubba hubba! Though my favorite part was when the first truck pulled up and Kristin WAVED AT THEM. Heyyy-Oh! (They did not wave back.) Our office was not on fire, but only a small number of us actually left the building. I believe I chirped to one of the firemen in charge that we were “the survivors”, and I meant it more like we WOULD be the survivors because when danger comes, we step out. I’ve deduced from their rather stony demeanor that they’re really not receptive to a lot of banter. Or waving.

In other randomness, we had one hell of a thunderstorm last night. I was convinced lightning had struck our neighbor’s cars, because it was all so BRIGHT and LOUD and wahoo-wake-ya-up-screaming. Turns out, it hit our big pin oak, and I drove right by it without even noticing! Because I’m the O.F. (Original Fogbanks). I was too busy looking at all the rubbish on the road, both from the storm & trees, and then those irritating plastic baggies with sales pitches & rocks in them that IDIOTS throw on your driveway, and I really, really, want a good form of recourse against them, like pressing charges for littering. Or a public flogging. Whichever. Anyway, Wo noticed it and left me a message & I’ll be getting a picture of it for posterity. Hope the tree survives, it’s a beautiful oak.

To complain about the heat would be redundant. It’s just miserable (see, I can’t NOT do it.) The dogs were synchronized-lounging last night on the tile & wood floor, because it was the coolest place to be, and they were stretched out to maximize the coolness. I left them with frozen beef bones this morning, so they’ll be busy on their meatsicles for the day…. And that’s it! Stay cool!

After all the drawn-out drama with the plumber, and not getting my shower fixed in time for my birthday, there was much celebrating (including special soap) once the shower was returned to its usable state.

Upon returning from Detroit, JWo informed me he had the perfect gift for my birthday, and this was it:

(stock photo, not my shower)

When I told someone at work, their not-so-tactful response was “Seriously?” And then I listed the things James told me that made it so perfect for me. Because he is right. I was a little surprised, because I’ve never even considered one of these things before, so where he’d gotten the idea kind of baffled me. But here is why:
1. My shower was cluttered, and I’m always trying to get organized, in every way.
2. I like to fill things up in other containers for dispensing. (Olive oil, soy sauce, dish soap, hand soap)
3. It came with LABELS (in four languages, no less) and I love to label things.

It was only later that I discovered it had HOOKS on it, too. It is the greatest thing ever. And I pointed out, it funnels right in to my obsessive-compulsive side, because I get to COUNT the number of times I push the buttons for shampoo, conditioner & shower gel. (Six times needed for shampoo, seven for conditioner. I do this with my face wash, too. (Four times.))

So then I was mightily irritated by my shower curtain. Namely the billowing-in and sticking-to-me part. A little research showed that Linens-N-Things (Napkins-N-Crap, I still love that commenter’s nickname for it!) carries a guaranteed-not-to-billow shower liner. And my original shower curtain had these pretty tone-on-tone white leaves on an opaque background, but none of the leaves survived a trip through the washing machine. So I got this shower curtain to go with the non-billowing liner:
(OK, I can’t find it in silver, so here’s the gold, but mine is silver, which is actually more clear with a silvery sheen. It actually refracts light at the right time of day, so I get rainbows. Rainbows! Bonus!)

Then I got some super-duper suction hooks, and voila! My organization and style sensibilities are delighted. My shower is now only missing a neon light ring around the top, and since the whole “electricity/water” thing isn’t really healthy, I’m willing to live without a true discotheque aesthetic.

Yesterday, I left work an hour early. Yes! I have my priorities right in order. However, in my defense, I was feeling ok and then I plunged into worse-by-the-minute as the day strode on, so I figured I better just give it up and get out. Oddly enough, the cold medicine had the opposite effect it was supposed to. Jittery, followed by stupor. Apparently the daytime formula for the CVS brand just packs all the “awakeness” into the first five minutes of the meds and then completely stops.

This week? Is kinda crazy. I think I said that yesterday. But I am on row #178 of the MS3, which in its abbreviation reminds me of all those Mystery Science Theater 3000 fans and their MST3 lingo. And that reminds me of Dr. Who, who had quite the scarf. Knitted. It’s all connected. Trust me.

I just called the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Thrift Store division (try finding the right phone number for THEM, I defy you to do without at least one wrong call first) to inquire why they hadn’t taken our donations yesterday. The lady was extremely nice, and someone’s coming tomorrow, but she did tell me to call right away next time. I spared her the long explanation of being a space cadet and doped up on store-brand meds.

So in my scattered, oddball way (I’m not taking ANY cold meds today), I give you my philosophy on Clean Sheets.

I love clean sheets. Especially in the first, oh, three days. There’s just something delicious and soothing and crisp about sliding your feet and legs around in clean sheets. Preferably high thread count, sateen optional. I had this insane imagery the other night, after we’d changed out the sheets – that the anticipation I had for climbing into bed was like being served a gorgeous piece of puff pastry, browned and golden, buttery gloss reflecting the light, and you don’t know what it’s filled with – fruit? cheese? meat? (Mmmm, meat.)But you know it will be delicious, no matter what. I digress. Anyway, I get a little nuts about fresh sheets, and I don’t recommend eating pastries in bed because that ruins the magic lickety-split.

OK. My boss just asked me to show up and drink a beer. He recognizes the madness around us, and for that, I’m grateful. If not just in a bit of a stupor, given that I asked him if we could do it sooner, and the time he’d suggested is four minutes away.

Really. I’ll surface once this cold’s gone.

anklet of bug bites
never ceasing itching, I
scratch towards madness

yes, I thought this one up about halfway through the night, as my toenails clawed at my ankles in tandem, and I even had the clarity to count out “anklet of bug bites” on my fingers in the dark, to make sure it would work. Goddamn chiggers, mosquitoes, and whatever else seems to find my skin and blood so tasty. MADNESS!

I’m having lunch with my beatnik babe, my haiku partner in crime, today, and we’re going to the new Cuban place in midtown. I’ll report on that later!

You’re going to the store?

Do we need any potatoes?

What?

OH!

Tomatoes!

No. No, I think we’re in good shape.

My lands. With the exception of the one white platter at the back of the photo, I picked all of these yesterday. One load in the morning, one load after work. And some green beans. I didn’t have the energy to address the zuchs & cukes! Oh lord, and don’t even start with the banana peppers. Speaking of which, should you, too, find yourself in a sea of extra banana peppers, slicing them in half & stuffing them with cream cheese or peanut butter makes for a loverly appetizer, and is a nice twist on the standard celery.

I’ve since processed some of the ripest & popped them in the dehydrator for more tomato confit.

And, in knitting news, I’m almost done with Clue #1 on the Mystery Stole. Never mind that Clue #4 came out yesterday! I’m hoping I read Harry Potter faster than I’m knitting this lace…..

So instead, I will let you read the words of my husband, in two emails:

Not that you didn’t know already…
but our former plumber is an idiot! Dude gets here…says the faucet is not a kohler, but a price pfister. Calls to get part at 80th and wornall…will be back here in a few minutes and the deal will be done.

Followed by this email 20 minutes later:

$130 and 20 minutes of work and we’re back in bidness.

I think each & every co-worker here should thank me & their lucky stars that I do not have the airhorn here today, because that is about the only expression I could convey right now besides a string of swear words and happy spluttering. Joy and Rage! Joy being dominant! I have a shower again! Which means tomorrow! I get to use my Celebration Soap! (I will explain.) (I always do.)

It almost makes up for the fact I have to re-start my Mystery Stole #3 because I am such a loose knitter and it is not working on #2’s. Arrrrrgh. Celebration Soap! Shower! Focus on the Good Things! YAY! Trying not to remember it’s taken almost 4 weeks to get here and it could have been solved on day one ….. ohhhhh kay woooosahhhhhh celebrate good times and showers come on! YAY!

There’s so much to do! So much to recap!

1. The Wo got home this morning, or very late last night, depending on how you define “day” and “night”. 2 a.m., because his flight out of Detroit was delayed four hours. I woke up shortly before he got home, and thankfully the dogs didn’t go into Full Tilt when he opened the door. He was in Detroit for a big backgammon tournament weekend, and while I missed him on my birthday, it was great to get updates and hear how much fun he was having. It’s good to do the things you love!

2. The dogs are hilarious when he’s gone. They go into Major Protection mode of me, which I appreciate, but it wears a little thin if I’m watching a movie that contains sounds that alarm them. The burfing is loud, and intended to scare off anyone who thinks they might be coming in the house. And once wound up, any other little noise sets them off. I think they’re always going to be this way, because of the very unfortunate incident a couple years ago, that I wrote about but discovered I never published. Pack behavior is an amazing, amazing thing, and even though part of me thinks our dogs are big love dogs with big barks, I’m also pretty sure that if they continued to sense my fear, they would bite someone threatening me. No hugs for thugs!

3. My birthday was nice. I spent 5 hours at the day spa, and was extremely relaxed by the time I poured out the door. I did get a bit frothy with the plumber situation that afternoon, because even though I had high hopes, part of me knew it wasn’t going to be resolved. But I talked to James that afternoon and officially handed it over to him to handle. (Three & a half weeks, and the plumber dodged the appointment we had on Friday. I’d get mad just typing that? But that wouldn’t be letting go. LET GO. Let it wash away like…. like a SHOWER that WORKS….)

4. I picked a TON of tomatoes this weekend, and processed the ripe ones yesterday – we’re going to have spaghetti tonight, which isn’t exactly a summertime dish, but I know already that with fresh basil & roasted garlic, it’s gonna be YUMMY. James is going to have quite the canning adventures ahead of him this month!

5. I joined the Mystery Stole #3 knitalong. I blame three people: Kristin, who told me about it in the first place; Jacqui, one of my very first Ravelry friends and does some beautiful lace knitting, and then of course the Yarn Harlot, because if she were going to jump off a cliff, I think we would all quickly knit ourselves some parachutes and follow her right off the edge. Actually, I would have thrown the Office Max dude off a cliff on Saturday, because he seemed to think the idea of highlighter tape was of my own imagination. WRONG-O.

6. Speaking of Ravelry friends, I’m going to complain about this once, and then I’m going to be done. I categorized some people as my friends, some of them based on the fact I read their blogs – and I comment there – and certain people are a bit too good and not as willing to reciprocate. Now, mind you, I’m not talking about the biggies, the famous knitters, with gazillions (or even hundreds) of people who read their blogs – that would be nutters, and I completely understand that. I’m talking about people like me, and honestly, that is the one thing I just f’n hate about how the internet can reduce you to feeling like the ugly girl at your locker, watching the other kids stream by and ignore your very existence, when you’re metaphorically smiling at them and waving “hi”. Of course, the internet brings a gajillion more people into my life, for which I’m extremely grateful and my life is enriched a thousandfold because of it. So I have to recognize none of this is black & white. I keep having to relearn the lesson that even if I call someone my friend, they’re not necessarily MY friend back. (And lest we think this all about Ravelry, this actually happens in real life, too.) So to stem some of my irritation, I removed them from my friend world, and I stick with adding new unknown people that Ravelry thinks would be good matches, based on patterns and projects, and I am divesting myself from taking it personally. I’m sure I’ll have that one figured out in um, 20 years. MSCONFIG: Run: \\complaining:OFF

7. I have a vacation hangover. The only thing that would really make me happy is if I could go back to sleep for about ten hours. And wake up to discover the shower’s been fixed. And everyone wants me to be their friend. ;)

Well, today’s the big day. Not exactly, I suppose, that’s next year (the big 4-0!) Even if it wasn’t my birthday, I’m going to a day spa, AND the plumber’s coming to fix my shower, so that right there makes it a banner day. Add to that dinner tonight, with my bestest girlfriends, followed by cake (there must always be cake), and undoubtedly, knitting, and you have a five-star day. (Please, just cross your fingers and whisper a little wish for me on the plumbing project. That’s the only wrench I can foresee, and I’d hate to undo all the relaxation from the spa…)

The best news I can report is that on Monday, I was having a conversation with one of my bosses, and he asked me how I was doing. I said, “OK!” and for the first time in over a year, it didn’t feel like part of me was lying. Sure, there are still moments, even hours and days that I don’t feel “ok”, or that something reminds me of dad, and I am sad, melancholy, even grief-stricken. But I’ve passed all the first anniversaries now – including last year’s dreadful burglary – and there’s something solidifying about standing in the present and not having the year-ago reflection feel like a soul-sucking monster bearing down on you.

So let there be cake! And friends! And love. And healing, and joy, and perspective. The best gifts in life can’t be bought. (You are, however, welcome to shower me with presents.)

It is 11:49 p.m. on July 4th, and I am just about ready to become one of those SUPER crazy people and take my shotgun outside and shoot it up in the air. Two nights in a row of ‘Nam flashbacks and war zones surrounding the house, with all the personally-purchased fireworks, things we would have to drive to town to see set off in the middle of the softball field. My father telling me people get their hands blown off ALL THE TIME from firecrackers. (Envisioning how that’d curtail the following year’s festivities and LIKING IT.) I am telling you, no matter how long I live here, the firecrackers and the booming bomb thingies, it is all CRAZY. I do not understand it, all these firecrackers at an up-close (to the house!) and personal level were never part of my formative years, and it all sounds like gunfire to me. Which does NOT spell “yee-haw! good times” to my ears.

If we hadn’t had all this rain, I’d think we’d need to start soaking the quilts and covering the roof. (Whilst wearing a bonnet!)

This wet blanket’s going to bed. I hope everyone around me does soon, too!