I don't have the budget or the spoons to do a whole steampunk room, but I've decided I want my kitchen to have some copper touches that could lend themselves to steampunkery if I ever have the funds. I ordered light oak outlet covers for the lower outlets which are located in the wainscoting and copper switch plates and outlet covers for the higher outlets and switches. I think they look lovely against the green walls!
And Sherri probably doesn't recognize the microwave cart any more, it was such a mess when she was here!
Cleveland Amory once said that only men could be curmudgeons. Fine. I've set out to be a curmudgeonette. I'm middle-aged, single, owned by a stubborn dog and so white bread all my clothes should say "Wonder." If it weren't for a few little quirks, I would be absolutely indistinguishable from other Midwestern females.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Strange things are afoot at the Circle K Casa de Jammies
Monday through Thursday of last week, painters came to Casa de Jammies, and Little Miss Piggie Pie day boarded at a local vet hospital/kennel. The staff there said "She's really a sweet girl" and I didn't get a bill because she ate someone's Bichon, so she must have behaved.
Today I get to rest from yesterday.
The kitchen and back hallway have had the 1970s wallpaper removed (hears distant cheers from South Carolina) and painted, the kitchen in what was supposed to be sage green but is in fact more mint green and the back hallway in a barely-tinted cream.
The painters were good painters, but lousy guests. One of them kept leaving the toilet seat up, they used up all of my good hand soap, half a roll of paper towels and two rolls of toilet paper and left me with a nearly full gallon bucket of mint-not-sage paint.
The painters were good painters, but lousy guests. One of them kept leaving the toilet seat up, they used up all of my good hand soap, half a roll of paper towels and two rolls of toilet paper and left me with a nearly full gallon bucket of mint-not-sage paint.
This past Thursday night, Mom and Dad came over and helped me pull up the carpet in the eating area, revealing some awful linoleum. It looks like raw meat.
When I brought out the shop vac to clean up the dust left behind, Dad said, "Oh, that's where it is. I needed it last week." I didn't remind him he had left it unused in his garage so long a mouse built a nest in it, just told him that if he wanted, I'd bring it back, but I'd cry real tears.
When I brought out the shop vac to clean up the dust left behind, Dad said, "Oh, that's where it is. I needed it last week." I didn't remind him he had left it unused in his garage so long a mouse built a nest in it, just told him that if he wanted, I'd bring it back, but I'd cry real tears.
For the first time ever, I had professional cleaners come to the house. A team of sisters Mom knows from her law practice worked from ten until two cleaning the kitchen and bathroom while I removed the staples and the tack strips from the NY strip floor. Both women were friendly as well as being very good at cleaning, and I enjoyed having them here as much as I enjoyed the clean house they left behind.
While I was pulling up staples and tack strips, I came to the very sad conclusion that the hardwood floor in the eating area was pulled up to make room for the Porterhouse lino. I've already picked a pretty brown carpet for the living room and now I need to consult with the guy at the carpet store about what kind of floor is best for homes with dogs.
Speaking of dogs, LMPP was excitable but not bite-y with Mom and Dad, but growly and snarly with the cleaning team, so she spent five hours outside, allowed in to warm up whenever I took a smoke break.
The schedule for the coming week is Sunday, grocery shopping and laundry, Monday work with Mom, lunch with Mom, shopping with Mom, and Tuesday through Friday, bring one piece of kitchen furniture out of the living room, clean it and put it back.
Friday, January 09, 2015
In the Living Years
I've been thinking about my dad a lot this week.
He taught me to use the internet, which I used to look up the correct tire pressure for my car.
I used the 12-volt compressor he gave me to inflate my tires to the proper pressure.
I saw someone stick an arm out of the driver's-side window and squirt their windshield with Windex, something my dad had to do a few times on his Oldsmobile.
And my friend Jay posted the two songs which make him think of his dad, who he lost 24 years ago.
My dad frequently makes me crazy, but I love him, and I listen to him and I learn from him, and I have told him so and will tell him so.
In 1989, I bought the cassette single of this song for Dad for Father's Day, and he really liked it, so here it is once more for him:
He taught me to use the internet, which I used to look up the correct tire pressure for my car.
I used the 12-volt compressor he gave me to inflate my tires to the proper pressure.
I saw someone stick an arm out of the driver's-side window and squirt their windshield with Windex, something my dad had to do a few times on his Oldsmobile.
And my friend Jay posted the two songs which make him think of his dad, who he lost 24 years ago.
My dad frequently makes me crazy, but I love him, and I listen to him and I learn from him, and I have told him so and will tell him so.
In 1989, I bought the cassette single of this song for Dad for Father's Day, and he really liked it, so here it is once more for him:
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