Today is “Bulky Item Pickup” in the neighborhood, and you see people cruising the streets, scavenging for treasure, da da da. I spent a chunk of time yesterday, working on the garage (filled with allllll my stuff from storage), in the effort to clear off & drag out the antique couch for BIP Day.

It was a mixed deal. It’s a gorgeous piece of furniture, yet it would have cost me at least a grand to have it reupholstered, and another few hundred bucks to have the leg repaired properly (broken off). I also know my mother spent $500 for it, and she gave it to me my senior year of college for my apartment. It’s always been the couch she gave me, in my mind. There’s a lot of shit in the garage she gave me, products of shopping, mostly for herself & then clearing out her old things & giving them to me. The process of working through the boxes in the garage is a lot like confronting all of your past – reminders of my own bad decisions & purchases – and then all the stuff given to me by my mother, with whom I haven’t spoken in two years.

So. It felt cathartic, throwing a ton of stuff away, putting old clothes that don’t fit into a charity bag, and then before JWo got home, I dragged that couch to the curb. I felt like I needed to do it, by myself. There’s still a lot of stuff to go through, and I still struggle with getting rid of things, but it’s astounding just how much of it I’ve held on to out of a sense of obligation and duty – not good reasons to keep them.

And by 9 p.m., the couch was gone. Someone else’s treasure. May it serve them well.

Our nieces: Miranda, on the left, is 8, and Danielle is 6. Their grandma, JWo’s mom, sent me this picture & it made me laugh, for several reasons. First, when I was growing up, we never had a kiddie pool BIG enough for a floating lounge. Second, I can totally hear both the girls, Miranda’s probably shouting, “Loook! Look!” and Danielle’s probably screaming, “STOP! STOP!” because she thinks she’s going to be monsooned by her big sister and her bigger float device. And lastly, because I can hear BOTH their giggles, the kind of giggles you have when you’re a little kid, unrestrained and erupting.

I love to watch their sisterhood as they grow….

The first big laugh of the day, from our horoscopes in the paper:

Mine:
CANCER (June 21-July 22)Five Star Day:
Wave goodbye to the 2-1/2-year transit of Saturn in your sign. Your stamina has been tested, as well as the validity of what you have chosen. You might have suffered some losses, though you will soon find that they were for the better. Tonight: A full-scale celebration is in order.

James’:
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22)Two Star Day:
You might sense a change in the wind as Saturn enters your sign for 2 1/2 years. During this period, the authenticity of your life choices will be tested. You also might let go of what doesn’t work for you anymore. You are starting a new 39-year life cycle. Tonight: Your home is the right place.

Hey, good luck there with Saturn, JWo. Try not to trip on all its muthafuckin’ rings.

In the office refrigerator.

We have Kitchen Duty that rotates – one person /week – and the primary duty is to put the coffee cups in the dishwasher, run it, unload it, etc. I do not go into the refrigerator (only the freezer for ice) because the refrigerator is SCARY. There is no room, and it looks like it could eat you if you spent too long trying to put something into it.

However, one of the newer braver souls here is on KD this week, and he sent out an email yesterday that the fridge was going to meet a new sheriff in town: him. And part of the warning to get your stuff out of there contained an observation: that in the refrigerator, there was an unopened carton of milk.

Expiration date: December 26.

He asked for guesses for the year. The predominant guess year has been 2003. (There’s no way to check, but still.)

It kind of makes me feel a little less shameful about our refrigerator at home. We suffer from a condiment problem, in that we have every kind of pickle, relish, sauce, and flavor accoutrement or enhancer under the sun, leaving very little room for much else. I can just see our recovery program: Condiments Anonymous, where the first step is admitting you don’t need three kinds of barbecue sauce open at once……

Right now, the kitchen table is covered with these:

This was taken over the weekend – now there are 4 huge oversized bowls full of tomatoes, plus two cardboard box lids filled as well. Did you know you can pick your tomatoes as soon as they start to change color? The plant/vine is done with them, and you can bring them inside to safely ripen, away from the Evil Squirrel Conspiracy. As soon as the hue gets a tinge of yellow or pink, pick away. The flavor is unchanged, and you don’t lose as much fruit in the wait!

Yesterday morning, I nearly walloped the SuzyDog – she walked right up to the cherry tomato plant we have in a pot at the entrance to the garden, and snacked herself one right off the vine! OOooooOO! Bad dog! Reminded me though of my black lab Oscar when I was growing up – you’d be picking blackberries at the top of the bush, he’d be stripping an entire lower vine – ripe & unripe alike, plus leaves, thorns, whatever – with his teeth to get himself some berries. Goofball.

James has some serious canning adventures ahead of him today!

Before the van rolls up & bundles me away to a recovery program, I am typing out this blog to you, internet world. For it has been a long two days at work, post-vacation, and while the Air Conditioning (broken on Monday) has been fixed, the Email and the Internet have withered and died. Connections were already sketchy, on Monday, when big happy portals like “Yahoo!” wouldn’t load, but Google would search for me, and sometimes things took an inordinant amount of time, but I kept the faith. Kept it burning, like a candle in the wind. Then on Tuesday, it Was. No. More. The Internet and the Email were dead. DEAD! All incoming and all outgoing – a black hole. Bouncing messages, the only communication was internal. INTERNAL! I had to resort to USING A PHONE to work with the outside world.

I would catch myself, thinking, “Oh, I’ll just Google that & get a phone number!” even turning in my chair, poising my curled speedy fingers over the keys. Then the wave of reality crashed into me, much like the waves in Puerto Vallarta, knocking me down into a wake line of sharp shells. The sting of the salt water in those tiny cuts, just like the pain I felt under the realization, “I have no internet.”

Kristin & I spent our lunch hour shopping the aisles of Office Depot. Like heroin addicts seeking methadone. Searching for supplies, something, anything, to give us purpose and direction and focus for the afternoon. I briefly, blindingly considered buying some sort of adaptor for my PDA, to convert it to a wireless computer. I wouldn’t have a clue where to start, it would be like trying to start a meth lab with some sangria, altoids and some Clorox Clean-Up.

By 4:00, the jonesing really kicked in. All my business contacts’ cards had been organized into a binder containing newly-purchased plastic sleeves, grouped by parent company & media type. As someone who normally deals with piles and chaos all the time, I barely could recognize the level of organization in my office. A quick glance in my pocket mirror confirmed it: a wild & crazed look about me, mascara crumbling under my eyes. I had tried out both kinds of the new pens I’d purchased – cheap fix that they were, they were absolutely delightful, Pentel R.S.V.P., and Pilot razor sharp felt tips (all in a wild colors). My new magnetic clips were lined up on my overhead file cabinet, waiting to clutch a project. My new phone call organizer made me happy, but it was a fleeting sort of happiness. Like drinking non-alcoholic beer. A watery, familiar taste without any of the satisfaction. I inspected my PDA, and did not determine any kind of wireless accessibility. I damn near had the shakes: I was looking to score. I left work.

I drove home & went straight to the computer. Oh sweet internet, you are a cruel bitch monkey on my back and don’t ever leave me again. I had a 30-minute window, before I had to leave & get to a knitting class I was teaching. Speed-reading blogs, email, and news – I cut it close, and with all the construction, showed up a few minutes late (walking in with the first student, however!) The second student was 1/2 an hour late, and all I can say is, they had a much calmer teacher than if I’d just driven straight to the classes.

I’m hoping Wednesday will bring us back the internet, at least in the afternoon. I can only imagine how many work emails are waiting for me. If I start to get glassy-eyed, and begin re-sorting all the business cards, I may have to leave & find an internet cafe.

Hey. At least it’s all LEGAL.

Are dog yawns catchy, too?

I submit to you two specific reasons why I believe a conspiracy is being plotted against me on my first day back from vacation:

1. No air conditioning in the office, and
2. Internet access is sporadic and spotty. Blogs? Accessible. Yahoo? No.

I smell a plot, by those who would destroy me, trying to break my spirit! They infiltrated the Ace Hardware over lunch, when I went to buy a fan for Miss K, since she was sweating, too, and I got all the way back here to discover the fan blade was broken.

Now I ask you, and I even called Ace to ask, because it seemed so logical: would you not just accept the broken fan blade, and pull a new one from another box? In my world, when I rule it, you will be able to. But nooooo, not today! I had to take the WHOLE THING back in, even though I was literally just there. So I said “Screw it!” because I was pouring sweat and I had debated on upgrading MY fan to a Vornado, giving the Blue Wind Machine to Kristin, and rather than have to put a fan together, I upgraded, fifteen minutes after buying the cheaper fan. Perhaps the Vornado people are behind the plot.

Well, if they are, they sure make a great fan.

So, it’s ’bout that time again, waving farewell to a week of vacation, over which I accomplished nothing except turning a year older! Woohoo! F the garage and all its contents! F the craft room! F the po-lice (only the ones on motorcycles)! It’s nutters, but I missed work, I missed my daily interactions & brilliant mutterings after I hang up the phone. (“F that stupid sumbitch, whattheHELL?”) But I did enjoy the time off & am already thinking “Self, when we taking more time off?” Guess I’ll have to get some stuff done now, I don’t have the excuse, “I’m on VACATION!”

I did, actually, make one hell of a vat of Sangria last Saturday night. Here’s a picture, in all it’s sparkling glory!

There’s no way to fully recreate it, but here’s what I did:
Started with a bit of simple syrup – about 3/4 cup of water, 1/2 cup sugar, cooked until sugar dissolves & cooled – 4 bottles of cheap red wine – one container raspberry-lemonade concentrate, one can of water – one can of lemon-lime soda – 2/3 bottle peach brandy – huge assortment of cut-up fruit: cherries, oranges, lemons, limes, granny smith apples, peaches, grapes, strawberries – serve very cold over ice, with plenty of fruit & a few pours of lemon-lime soda (for fizz & to lighten it a bit – completely optional). You can add fruit juice, skip the brandy, substitute rum – judging from the 8 bajillion recipes on the internet, there are a LOT of options. If you plan ahead (we didn’t), it’s even better the next day! (The leftovers proved it!)

They are loved dogs, that is for sure. I adore them both, and we take good care of the pooches. Costco has unleashed a whole new line of pet products, including an iron-scroll bed, complete with COIL SPRING MATTRESSES. A raised dog bed bath, capable of supporting 350 pounds, obviously designed by someone who’s never bathed a labrador retriever: I’d love to have the dog fuckin’ ELEVATED so when they inevitably shake, they soak my entire HEAD AND TORSO.

All of that aside, it is a sad day for Polly & Suzy, because I had to break the news to them that they will never get to eat/drink from this:

What is this thing of beauty? Why, it’s the Versace Barocco Pet Bowl, with Gold Leaf Edging – available at Costco.com! It’s porcelain, too, so hopefully your dog’s a delicate, dainty eater. Ours would have it broken within 30 seconds. (That’s the ONLY reason they’re not getting one. Each.)
The Versace Barocco Pet Bowl can be your dog’s diningware, too, for the low, low price of $439.99. Why? Why do they need this? Because the Alpo :tastes: better in Versace.

It should be noted that the price DOES include shipping & handling.