"Some women bond over martinis"

said Flannel Jammies to me as we stood in the rain in my driveway. "Not us!"

We spent most of the day together, from 8:30 this morning until 3:00 this afternoon, cleaning out a Ward's house. We made three trips to Goodwill, donating about $600 worth of clothing and household items, filled two trash cans, and filled my car up with things that might sell (costume jewelry, fur-collared wool coats, handbags and scarves and such). We talked while we worked, got the giggles a lot, and got grossed out once or twice--why do old ladies keep partials in with their jewelry? ICK! In the bathroom, I found a one-liter bottle of old liniment, which was pure isopropyl alcohol mixed with wintergreen oil. Mom poured it down the drain and put the bottle in the recycling bag, and when we left, the house still smelled like a breath mint explosion in a distillery.

It poured all day and gas is back up to $4/gallon, both of which seem to be the effects of Gustav and Ike on Ohio. Since I don't have the Weather Channel (or any cable, for that matter), I am relying on info I pick up on the Internet and from friends. My heart goes out to the people who've had to evacuate, and to the people who should have but didn't.

It's entirely possible that I am too tired for a bath tonight.

Okay, the troll thing

Yes, I have referred to myself as "photographing like a troll."

Yes, I sometimes would like to be a troll and hide under my bridge and let the world go by (an occasional tribute of gold would be nice, but no goats, please).

No, this does not mean I go around thinking of myself as ugly and made of stone. It means that I know that I am not photogenic. I can look in the mirror and think I look nice, or good, or some days, even pretty, and then that's not what the camera sees. To me, it is a fact of life. It's also genetic. My paternal grandmother was a bubbly, giggly, loving person who was a flapper in her youth and in her sixties liked to sprawl on the sofa and watch football while keeping her granddaughter from tickling her feet. In all but one picture we have of her, she looks cold and forgiving, and the two trenches on either side of her mouth don't seem to come from smiling as much as she did.

So to some extent, when I use the words "troll" or "trollish" about how I come across on film (or digital media, whichever), I am identifying myself with a woman I'd have loved to get to know as an adult and who left a marvelous legacy.

And I'm also acknowledging my own tendency to retreat from time to time.

That said, apparently the words offend or upset some of my friends, so I shall make a conscious effort not to use them.

Ahhhhhhhh, now I feel like fall is here!

Okay, so it's still in the 80s every day and I still have to water my tomatoes. Nonetheless, when I went to the grocery store this weekend, they had my beloved girly Harmony Bay Autumn Spice coffee. I know most people think flavored coffee is rubbish, but I love the maple-cinnamon flavor of this coffee, and I spend most of the fall buying 3 times as much as I need so that I can drink it all year.

Tonight, I was thinking about Becs' touching entry about her kitty Dylan. Bigfoot was crying for something, and when letting him out for twenty minutes and refilling the water bowl didn't quiet him, I tried petting him and then giving him a second dinner. It was food that he wanted, and he snarfed it all down, and then came up to lean on me. I ruffled his ears and laid my cheek on the top of his head, then said, "Are you happy? Happy puppies make me happy."

He burped at me. *chortle* Damn, I love that dog.

Late Lunch with Lioness

Very much on the spur of the moment, Fiery Lioness arranged a mini meet & sniff as she was returning to Michigan from Columbus. We met at the Rte. 18 exit from 71N, and headed for Miss Molly's Tearoom in Medina. We got lost on the square with its silly one-way streets and had to call Kogi, who got us the actual address, directions and the phone number.

We made it to the tearoom just as they were closing down the kitchen, so we quickly ordered lunch. Then we could open presents. FL got me an adorable otter and made me a very professional-looking book of otter pictures from her recent zoo visit (Imp, she reminded me of you--she went to a zoo on her honeymoon).



I got her assorted bath products and a very creepy BPAL version of Neil Gaiman's short story "Snow, Glass, Apples." As a side note, that's got to be the perviest version of Snow White I've run across, and not the good kind of pervy, either.

There was much perfoom on the table, and much sniffing was done as we talked.





I found out that Sea of Tranquility, a discontinued scent, is FL's Holy Grail and she doesn't have a bottle. Happily, I remembered that Tangoing Owls has a bottle for sale at a very reasonable price. I felt like a BPAL matchmaker, and was sorry I hadn't worn black with a head scarf. *grin*

As we were finishing our sandwiches, a group of women filed past us to line up for picture-taking in front of the fireplace. We offered to take pictures so that they could all be in them, and it was easy to see that FL has recently experienced a wedding photographer, as she herded the ladies into just the right position for me to take 2 pictures with each camera.

After that, all that remained was for us to pack up the precious and have our picture taken. As usual, I photograph like a troll, but we were having so much fun I'm thrilled to have the picture as a reminder.

Thanks, I needed that.

Work was just peachy until about 2 p.m. when Manufacturing exploded at me and got my boss involved. When everything was fixed up and done, I was just thrilled to get the heck outta Dodge and go walk with my mom and my dogs.

We went to the same park, but tried some different routes on the trail and got in a good forty or forty-five minutes of walking and climbing. I fell once, but thankfully I landed on my fat ass, so no damage was done. Bigfoot lost his footing once and sat down hard, but after Tuesday evening's walk, he was the only one not limping, so I think he's in better shape than I am.

Now that I'm home, I'm debating whether or not tonight calls for one of my hoarded Lush Marathon bubble bars. They're a little stinky, but a lot effective for sore muscles, and stupid Lush is discontinuing them. I have six left, which is twelve baths, and I'm campaigning like mad to get Lush to put them on the Retro menu. That's where they offer small amounts of discontinued items and I definitely will always need my Marathon!

"Chuckery" ≠ "Oxbow"

It has now been over a year since I started at Hyphenated Corp, and while I've settled in well, I do miss my pretty much daily interaction with my mom and friend, Flannel Jammies. About ten days ago, she called with a suggestion that she expected me to dismiss out of hand--we should get together twice a week and exercise. I surprised her by responding to "Don't say anything, just think about it," with "Well, I was going to say yes, but if you want me to wait a week before I do..."

*grin*

We agreed that we would start with walking before we lose the warm weather and the late-day sunlight, and that we would start the day after Labor Day. After several phone calls on Saturday and Monday, I was certain that we were meeting at the Oxbow area of the Summit County Metro Parks promptly at 5:15.

I came home from work, changed into shorts and a t-shirt, loaded the dogs into the car and was in the parking lot by 5:14. At 5:23, I did a quick drive through the other two parking lots in the Oxbow section and didn't see Mom. I returned to the parking lot nearest the trail and the 'Foots and I got out of the car. I walked them around a bit, trying to stay within sight of the parking lot. At ten minutes to six, I stuffed the dogs back in the car and told myself I would do one more circuit of the other two parking lots and then give up and go home.

As I was coming out of the second parking lot, Mom pulled in. She'd been sitting at the Chuckery Area since 5:15, because it was the first branch of the park she saw as she was coming from work. She admitted she hadn't even looked at the sign, just pulled in and waited. It took her 2 phone calls to my house and half an hour before she wondered if she was in the wrong place, and she was actually heading for my house when she saw the Oxbow sign and pulled in.

So we were a little late, but we had a great walk. The trail is 1.2 miles long, edges the Cuyahoga River in a couple of places and is pretty much always within earshot. It did have one stretch that was essentially "Climb this here big hill and we'll put in some railroad ties you can't really pretend are steps," but hey, that's good for the calf muscles!

Mom and I talked as we walked, and laughed a lot, and she kept apologizing until I wanted to smack her (she stopped when I told her that!) and generally had a great time. I'm looking forward to doing it again Thursday night, but without the bit where I drive around parking lots in a car full of panting, smelly 'Foots.

Oh, and both of them drank a bowlful of water each and then crashed out for the rest of the night. I still had to water the plants, bathe, set up the coffeepot and make my lunch for today. Rough life those dogs have...

Anxiety dreams

Friday night: dreamed that I had giant zits in five different places on my face.

Saturday night: dreamed that the waterline into the house was broken and flooding the basement and when I finally got it shut off, I had no water for days.

Ugh.

Note to self

Idea for work pumpkin-carving contest: "I got a rock."

It's about time

I am so ready for this holiday weekend it's not even funny. Work has been full-tilt for the last three weeks, and while the overtime is good for my wallet, it's not so good for the rest of me. I ache everywhere and I'm hideously short on sleep.

My current book is my first ever looseleaf product, and it's difficult and different from the pocket parts and softbounds I've been doing for the last year. The difficulty has not been lessened by the fact that it's authored by a firm of lawyers who have taken for-bloody-ever to get their work in. Not only were they a month late with their first draft, they got their final changes in less than 48 hours before I was supposed to build the book.

My team coordinator did the senior editor review for me today, and she found so many little things that needed to be changed that she called Manufacturing and told them the book wouldn't be ready until Tuesday. So I get the weekend to catch up on my housecleaning and my sleep, and then first thing next week I get this monster finished and out of my hair for a week!

Brrrrrr!

And hooray for that. It's 63° F right now, and I am happy to have a leetle cold front visiting. Plus, it's raining, so I don't have to go water my plants. The less I have to do at home, the better, because I am swamped at work.

My very first looseleaf publication builds on Friday, and of course, the idiot lawyers who are authoring it didn't get their final pages to me until mid-day today. It's four volumes with a CD, and I have to get it all done tomorrow so I can put it together on Friday. I'm seriously tempted to go smack these guys!

*deep breath*

Instead of thinking about work, I'm going to think about fall, which has always been my favorite season. I've always loved the look of the Harvest Moon, so I ordered the 2008 version of that scent from BPAL. As my darling Kogi always says, "It could smell like accord of ass and I'd still buy it" just for the associations with autumn. I want to smell like a fat round gold thing on a cold night!

Speaking of BPAL and associations, I keep running into phoenixes. I love BPAL (Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab) perfumes, my current favorite bath & body product scent is Phoenix from Julphia, our proprietary software at work is called Phoenix, I pass an office or something for the University of Phoenix every day on my way to work, and a new second-hand car dealership just opened up down the street from me called Phoenix Auto Sales. I can hear my little brother saying it's just coincidence (Hi, Captain Crossword!), but I can't shake the feeling that maybe it's more than that...

My brother, Billy Chapman

I promised I would write this story up, so here goes:

A decade or so ago, my middle brother and his wife had bought and moved into their first house. At the time, they had no kids, a cute little grey tiger cat and a cute big yellow Lab. The house was in a brand new development, so they had very few neighbors.

It was December, and cold. The big cute yellow Lab hadn't adjusted to the move very well and had had a number of accidents in the house (shut up Scott, lol). My sister-in-law left the Friday before Christmas to spend some time in New York with her family, and my brother remained in Columbus because he had to work.

On December 23rd, Billy came home from work, parked the car in the garage, opened the door to the kitchen and was immediately confronted with the results of the loss of canine self-control. He threw his keys on the kitchen table, grabbed the dog and hauled him outside. He was fairly upset at this point, but he really got mad when he discovered that he'd just locked himself out of the house.

So it's near Christmas, what few houses exist in their development are empty, and Billy is outside in the freezing December weather with an incontinent dog and no cell phone. He looks around the garage, grabs his wood axe, winds up and smashes it into the door frame so hard that he can hear the strike plate crash into the sliding glass doors on the other side of the kitchen. The door pops open, he goes in, cleans up the floor, calms down and has a quiet evening.

Around bedtime, he realizes he hasn't seen the cat all evening, and goes looking. He finds the poor thing wedged in the bathroom corner behind the toilet, trembling like mad. Little brother figures that Kitty was probably in the kitchen when he killed the doorframe, and spends a fair amount of time petting and soothing the poor little guy.

On Christmas Eve, Billy drives up to my folks' house, Annabel comes in from New York, we have a lovely Christmas and they leave a day or so later. A week after they get home, they wake up one morning to find giant clumps of fur everywhere, and a cat who is one-half to three-quarters bald.

So they rush Kitty to the vet, and three doctors, two techs and a student intern all rush around looking things up in books, doing blood tests, asking questions until finally my brother says, in a very very small voice,

"Erm, if something scared him really badly, could that cause this?"

"Oh, of course, stress-related alopecia" says the vet. "Why, did something scare him?"

"Maybe." says little brother, still in that small voice.

So that is the story of how my younger brother literally scared the fur off his cat (who did go on to live a pretty long and full life).

Oh, and the name Billy Chapman is from Silent Night, Deadly Night

Summer Snobservations

To my friend Doc:

You have spent entirely too much time with nuns. A grouping of objects, such as my rubber ducks in my fountain, is not a "shrine to duckies." Similarly, the arrangement of photos on my credenze is not a "shrine to nieces and nephews" and the four bookcases together in the library is not a "book altar." Get out more and add some more secular words to your vocabulary.

And while we are on the subject of my duck collection, I don't care if you don't like my Dead Duck. Ordinarily, I would take "sick" and "nasty" as compliments, but I did not like the tone with which you used those words. He's sick in an adorable fashion, so there!

To Darth CS at my pharmacy:

Dude, if you've got some sort of medical condition that makes you a mouth-breather, I'm of the opinion that you need to re-think the whole headset and microphone idea. About fifteen different times during the phone call today I expected to hear "Jammies. I am your...pharmacist."

Second, just because you are a pharmacy does not mean that you are immune from the federal regulations requiring that you not charge someone's card until the merchandise is ready to ship. I will dispute this both under The Fair Credit Billing Act and The Electronic Funds Transfer Act and expect your company to behave towards your customers as any merchant is required to behave.

To my co-workers:

I understand being reserved, I really do. When I'm not online, I'm really rather shy. But when someone who has been on our team for years is going to another team, is it so much to ask that we take her to lunch? Suck it up and donate 90 minutes of your precious time and $15 and we'll all go to Applebee's. Sheesh.

There. I feel much better.

R.I.P. Congresswoman Jones

http://blog.cleveland.com/metro/2008/08/family_hospital_confirm_congre_2.html

Family, hospital confirm congresswoman's death
Posted by Plain Dealer staff August 20, 2008 19:03PM

• Plain Dealer comment: Remembering Stephanie Tubbs Jones, an editorial | Jeff Darcy's view
• 2007 profile: Great expectations for Tubbs Jones
• Brain aneurysms are particularly risky
• Her career and legacy
• Tributes: Blog comments
• Photo gallery from the news conference
• Send your condolences

U.S. Rep. Stephanie Tubbs Jones' family and officials at Huron Hospital have announced that the five-term congresswoman has died.
She was 58.

This is the statement:

Tubbs Jones Family, Huron Hospital and Cleveland Clinic
August 20, 2008 - 6:40 p.m.

"Throughout the course of the day and into this evening, Congresswoman Tubbs Jones' medical condition declined. Medical doctors and neurosurgeons from Huron Hospital and Cleveland Clinic sadly report that at 6:12 p.m. Congresswoman Stephanie Tubbs Jones died.

She dedicated her life in public service to helping others and will continue to do so through organ donations.

Please keep her family and friends in your thoughts and prayers during this very difficult time."


Tubbs Jones, the first black woman to represent Ohio in Congress, died after suffering a burst brain aneurysm.

Tubbs Jones, 58, served as a Cuyahoga County judge and prosecutor before succeeding U.S. Rep. Louis Stokes. She served five terms in Congress and was expected to easily win her sixth in November.

Ohio has lost one of our true shining lights.

Littlefoot, my eternal puppy

It's hard to believe Littlefoot will be twelve years old in October. From the moment I met him as an abandoned fifteen-month-old puppy, he has been a warm-hearted, cuddly, playful fuzzball. My brother described him once as "all blonde, no brains," and a former boyfriend gifted him with the name "Jiffy Pop Butt."

He's part Chow, part German Shepard, all puppy. He likes to catch soap bubbles, tries to eat bees, loves dissecting squeaky toys and will follow anyone who seems as if they might pet him some time in the next year.

He's got a digestive system that can take the same exact food Bigfoot eats and turn it into fishy breath and weapons-grade farts. He sheds constantly and profusely. Not only does he refuse to allow me to trim his nails, one time at the vet's he came out of anesthesia when the nail clippers touched the first toenail.

He's the only dog I know who watches tv with fierce concentration when there is a dog on the screen. He even reacts to cartoon dogs like Lady & the Tramp or Santa's Little Helper from "The Simpsons."

When I am sad, he's always there to ask for petting, chase a toy, catch bubbles or just lie next to my chair. In fact, he is never far from me.

His sweetness of face is matched only by his sweetness of heart.

Bigfoot, my heart dog

My apologies--the dogs are fine, this is me trying to be foresighted.

With surprising prescience, Zayrina asked me last night if I had any pre-need funeral arrangements made for the 'Foots. I do, sort of. I haven't pre-paid for cremation, but I've talked with Kogi about custom urns for their ashes. I'll provide the words and pictures, and she'll make them for me.

I keep coming back to this window, writing something, letting Blogger save it, and then backspacing over it. For all of my education, all of my reading, all of the talking that comes so easily to me, I can't seem to find the right words to describe my dogs, and to some extent, I can't make it real that they will need these words written someday.

Bigfoot has been with me since he was five months old. He was rejected by the family that adopted him from a shelter on the grounds of being "too big." He was fifty pounds and in that gangly teenage stage when I adopted him. His legs were so long and his feet so large that he looked like half a spider. From the first, he slept on my bed. When he was fussing, I'd sing to him--Jimmy Buffett's "Death of an Unpopular Poet." I still sing that to him on the nights when he can't seem to settle down to sleep and is pacing restlessly around my room crying.

He tried to bite my ex on our first date and I didn't listen to him--silly me. I could have saved myself a few years of hurt had I taken my dog's advice. All the times the jackass abused me (never physically), Bigfoot was there for me. I've soaked his fur with tears and never once has he let me down.

He's done two MS walks with me, pulling me through my first one in a freezing rain back when I weighed well over three hundred pounds. He's lightened my heart with a million silly antics, and made me crazy with his genius for opening things like cabinets, closets, cupboards and the refrigerator.

I can say all of this, and I can't properly describe the soul in Bigfoot, my heart dog, the one who is so much a part of me that I will miss him forever when he is gone. I am exasperated and miserable that I can't seem to sum up what a perfect dog he is even when he isn't being perfect.













Eight hours later, I give up. This will have to do for now, and tomorrow I shall endeavor to describe Littlefoot.

WANT!

Every time I think I've got my Giant List Of Greed complete, Erin comes up with something new and wonderful. So far, she's made a pirate sock zombie, a samurai sock zombie and now sock zombie puppets, all available on her Etsy store.

This one was a custom order, but I seriously want her to sell them on Etsy now:



A cat zombie. How freaking adorable is that?

I wonder if I could get a discount for referring all my crazy BPALz?

Restless

I'm still struggling with my book and my deadline, but tonight I can't seem to focus on any one thing. If I start to read, I get bored within ten pages. If I'm on the Lush forum, I'm bored within half a thread. I don't even know what kind of bath I want.

Aaargh.

I am so tired of the drama.

Not people, the weather. In the last week, four thunderstorms have come through my little city. There has been enough thunder to scare Littlefoot into trying to live inside my right pant leg, enough lightning to fry every piece of electronics on my street, and less than one inch of rain. It's frustrating when I think I'm going to get a night off of watering, but after all the sound and fury I still have to get outside with the hose.

Stupid global weirding.

On the other hand, my tomatoes are coming along nicely, and when they are ripe, it will be time to take the last pound of thick-cut peppered bacon out of the freezer and cook it up for sammiches.

Skindecent saved my life last night

Reallytruly.

I'll tell the story in a moment, but I have to preface it by telling Scott that if he makes one freaking comment about inside dogs, I will burst into tears and kick him sharply on the ankles. Stuff happens, I need to vent about it, and I don't want any extra grief. So there!

This has been a difficult and draining week at work. I've got one book that is the first revised edition in seven years, and another where the authors wanted an extra month to get us really lame content revisions and the head office wants us to still have it out by August 30th. Add to that my night-of-not-sleeping thanks to Ophelia's canine soulmate, and it's been hard.

Last night, I came home, had coffee, let the dogs in & out and fed them, ate dinner myself and went to water the plants. To do that, I have to bypass my fancypants new water softener, which involves a trip to the basement.

Down in the front half of the basement, aka the dogs' half, there are two room-sized pieces of carpet from when Mom & I re-did the bedrooms. They are down there because I felt guilty locking my dogs up on concrete floors all day. In the last 3 or so years, there have been some accidents, but I've cleaned up right away and it hasn't been too awful.

That is, until yesterday. When I went downstairs, I could both smell and see that someone had been very sick on both pieces of carpet. I switched the water over, zipped out and watered the tomatoes, then went back downstairs to deal with the mess.

On closer examination, it was very clear that the carpet was unsalvageable this time. Back upstairs I went, and then I returned to the basement with my good snips. I grabbed a couple of rags, cleaned up what I could, and then cut both pieces of carpet in half. Then came the bad part.

I had to get the carpet upstairs and out last night, because my trash pickup was early this morning, my city will only take one room's worth of carpet per pickup, and I didn't want all of it sitting around until next week. Not only was the carpet disgusting, it hadn't aged well--years in the basement had cause the backing to dry up into thoroughly rough and scratchy burlap.

By the time I had wrestled three of the four pieces upstairs, I was filthy, sodden with sweat, itching from head to toes and still had to get the blue pieces out to the curb. After I'd done so, all I wanted to do was remove all of my skin and hair from my body and grow in new stuff.

There was no way I was taking a bath in that condition, so I rummaged around in my bathroom cupboard, found a sugar scrub and bath cream in Pillow Fight scent from Skindecent, used it in a cool shower, and finally felt clean and human.

Then my dad called. When I told him what I'd been up to, he said in a very sweet and slightly chiding voice that he would have come over to help. I told him I knew that, but it needed to be done right away, and I wasn't going to haul him out of the house just to help me deal with something that was the fault of my dogs. He said he'd try to recover from the hurt feelings. ;)

We had a lot of thunder, lightning and wind last night, plus a teensy amount of rain. My plants didn't get any extra water, but my trash can got knocked over, the cardboard I had out for the recycling truck got wet, and the carpet got unrolled and wet. Bless them, the trash guys picked everything up anyway, and next week I will be securing the carpet with duct tape.

I'll get the last piece out of the basement after I duct tape it first so it doesn't unroll on the stairs, and then all I have to worry about is Kentucky tort law!

Separated at birth...

My Littlefoot and Mallie's Ophelia. Nevermind that one is a brown dog and the other is a tuxedo cat. They both have the ability to transform ordinary pet food into fumes which violate the Geneva Convention, they both have too much fur, and both of them get to sleep after keeping their owners up all night.

Whatever made Bigfoot sick last week, he got better (no, he wasn't a newt). Littlefoot is the sick one this week, and last night, he woke me up every ninety minutes wanting to go out. Because there's a certain amount of adrenalin involved in having a dog bark in your ear in the middle of the night and knowing it's going to be a race to make it to the back door before said dog explodes, every time it happened I lost about 30 minutes of sleep.

Like his spiritual twin, Littlefoot slept all day. I had to wrestle with civil jury instructions and coding of same.

JammiesFest Day Four: Sunday, July 20th

Also known as "The Day Jammies is Sad Because Everyone Leaves."

*sigh*

I've been putting off writing this entry because just remembering the day everyone left is enough to make me sad. Plus, with the exception of a quick webcam view of The Mango, not much happened beyond everyone packing and leaving.

Things were taken, things were forgotten, hugs were exchanged and pictures were taken, and after I dropped the last guest off at the bus station, it was a very quiet and sober evening.

I still miss everyone, but I'm already making plans for JammiesFest '09.

JammiesFest Day Three: Saturday, July 19th

(this is for Zayrina, who's drugged out of her little post-surgical mind)

When the dogs woke me up, Rob was already up and had started the coffee and retreated to the back yard with coffee, book and pipe. Imp was up not long after me, as was Jay. Mallie & Dampy were up but being non-morning people, needed some quiet time to caffeinate. Jay & Imp went for a walk, and while they were gone, I cleaned up the kitchen, got dressed and had more coffee than was good for me. I decided just to cook the pound of bacon that was in the fridge all at once in the oven, and Jay & Imp returned from their power walk just as it was done.

At one point that morning, Bigfoot got itchy and decided he needed to carpet-surf. That's a fairly ordinary part of any day, but it was a little different that Saturday. The spot of carpet Bigfoot picked for his all-over bodyscritch was already occupied. He flopped down on top of the bikini'd chicken and went to town with the rolling around. I thought Littlefoot's head was going to explode as he tried to figure out why he could hear the chicken but couldn't find it anywhere. I'd loved to have gotten it on video, but my camera was nowhere near.

After breakfast, people showered, dressed, we discussed what we were going to do for the day, and then got the caravan moving. Jay needed to mail a check for a parking ticket he'd gotten the night before (they just missed the expiration on their parking meter!) and I was out of stamps, so he & Mallie were going to go to the post office and meet Imp, Dampy, Rob & I at the West Point Market. Rob noted the fancy tobacco store across the street from the market, and said he'd be putting that on his "To-Do" list for JammiesFest 2009. We had fun bipping around the market looking at things, tasting things and buying things.

When Imp was stocked up on Choya plum wine (careful, Imp, the website talks :P) and the rest of us were stocked up on all sorts of yummy things, we loaded it all in the cooler Jay had put in the car (smart man!) and headed off to Mariachi Coco for lunch. We had the white cheese dip that Imp was having dreams about and a lovely lunch. Imp was sweet enough to treat everyone as her birthday present to me, and after lunch Dampy gave me a gorgeous collection of bath products from Thymes. I've been drooling over their stuff since Mallie discovered them in Tahoe last year, but couldn't afford any of it. Now I've got lovely smellies to try!

Jay & Imp had another long walk after lunch, and I got the lemon pound cake and green bean salad made for dinner. When Jay & Imp got back, Imp played the "Adjectives" song from School House Rock that Mallie & I were singing because of my grumpy father, and somehow this led to a discussion and the finding of YouTube videos for "Fish Heads." Ack! Now I've got the damn earworm again!

After Jay had cleaned up (and was looking SEX-AY in his Utilikilt), he headed outside to start up the grills. Unfortunately, despite the fact that I'd taken the steaks out of the freezer the night before and out of the refrigerator that morning, they weren't completely thawed, so cooking them took a little longer than we'd planned. Jay earned himself a ton of good karma for being out there slaving over two hot grills in the almost 90º heat, that's for sure.

Mallie had made tiaras for the ladies, and everyone looked amazing all dressed up. Maresche and Khover were a bit late, but that worked out well with the meat taking some extra time. When they did arrive, they looked lovely as well, and both of them brought me great presents. Maresche actually got two Lush products that make her nauseous (Aura Suavis and Marathon) for me, and Khover got me an Ice Hotel and three adorable little bunnies from Squishable.

Khover liked the Kir Royale, but loved the May Wine, and Maresche said that next year, she'll have a beer and Khover can drive. The dinner was a success, both foodwise and in terms of my friends liking one another. The only minor failure was that we didn't get a group shot of everyone dressed up, because Imp & Mallie got out of their finery while I was out saying goodbye to Maresche & Khover. Brats! On the other hand, they did both compliment me on my dress, so they're forgiven. *blush*

Next year, though, we are definitely doing the dinner again.

JammiesFest Day Two: Friday, July 18th

The dogs woke me up at six again, but Rob and Jay weren't far behind me. We all had coffee, then Jay went on his walk, Rob went out back with his pipe and his book, and I tidied up the kitchen a bit and then took my shower and got dressed. When Mallie woke up, she agreed to come out to my parents' house with me and pick up Dad's little propane grill. We talked about nearly everything on the way there, and when we got to the house, Mallie spent a few minutes admiring Flannel Jammies' gardening skills.

Mind you, it was somewhere between eleven and eleven-fifteen in the morning when we got there. The grill was on the porch as promised, but I knocked and then unlocked the front door. I knew Mom was up at the lake, but Dad was still there. I called his name, and received a growl from upstairs in return. "I'm still in bed!" I closed the door, re-locked it, grabbed the grille and told Mallie she wouldn't get to say hi to Plaid Jammies on this trip.

Once in the car, Mallie agreed with me that it was not too early in the morning to be knocking on family doors, and somehow, in our ensuing conversation, I wound up singing three lines from my favorite School House Rock cartoon.

"He was a hairy bear. He was a scary bear. We beat a hasty retreat from his lair."

All true!

At lunch, Bigfoot demonstrated to Jay that not only do dogs eat tomatoes, they also eat cucumbers. After lunch, Rob was on his way out to the smoking area with one of my books in his hand, and he said something about enjoying it. When asked which book it was, he replied that it was "Proven Guilty," which is the eighth book in the Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher. Three voices spoke as one to tell him to put it back and start with book one, but Rob had already started and he is stubborn. ;)

Mallie & Jay were having dinner with a friend in Cleveland Heights, so after some showering and primping (they both looked gorgeous, sexy and wonderful), they headed out around three o'clock. Forty minutes later, Imp and Dampy arrived. After finding out that Imp's air mattress is a twin, I made an executive decision and told Imp that she & Dampy would share my bed and I would sleep on the air mattress in the living room where Mallie & Jay's mattress was. After some discussion, we decided to graze for dinner rather than going out, and I put together the green bean salad and showed Imp & Dampy where everything was.

Because I had informed Imp about the Barefoot Formal dinner at a time when she had a lot going on, she hadn't processed the information and so hadn't packed a dress for Saturday night. After dinner, she & Dampy & I zipped up the street to the local Goodwill, where we looked at prom dresses, wedding dresses, mother-of-the-bride dresses, etc. Imp found a neat dress--a slim column of black velvet, with a diamond pattern in lines of raspberry glitter and satin trim and crossover straps. Joy of joys, it fit her and the sign said the formals were $10. When we got to the register, the cashier said that the green tag items were half off, so the dress would cost "half of ten." Finding what you're looking for when you are shopping is good, finding it at a reasonable price is better, and being surprised at the register by finding out it's half of ten is best of all!

For the rest of the evening, the four of us hung out around the house. Jay & Mallie got home around elevenish, and not only had they had a good time, they'd found a bookstore they liked in Cleveland Heights. In addition to books, they got the most obnoxious dog toy ever. It's a rubber chicken wearing a purple & white polka-dot bikini, and it makes a noise which sounds as if the chicken had swallowed a kazoo and was now attempting to fart it out.

Littlefoot adores it.

Friday night ended with wine, laughter, odd chicken noises and good companionship.

JammiesFest Day One: Thursday, July 17th

Mallie and Jay arrived in the wee hours Thursday morning, and insisted on giving me my birthday presents right away. After the presentness and much petting of spoiled puppehs, they set up their air mattress and went to sleep.

Said spoiled puppehs woke me at six, so I let them out and fed them, then snagged a book and a cup of coffee and retired to the breezeway, where I remained until Jay was up and around. Jay had some coffee and then set out on one of his power walks. Mallie & I went to my favorite nursery, which was having an end-of-season sale. I got three butterfly bushes, two tricolor sweet potato vines and two lavender petunias, and Mallie got two Munstead lavender, two ruffled double petunias bicolored in red & white and two dark purple violas.

After showers, we blitzed through two office supply stores, Mallie & I drooling and Jay shopping quite seriously for something-or-other. We then had Thai food for lunch and headed off to the West Point Market. We got booze, snacks, chocolate and lots and lots of cheese.

When we got home, I took a short nap, then headed out to get Rob at the bus station. When we got back to the house, Jay was cooking thick-cut peppered bacon and slicing tomatoes for BLTs. I sliced the dill bread, washed & dried the lettuce and then went to sit and chat with Rob & Mallie while Jay cooked. As we were sitting there, I heard Jay say, "Dogs don't eat tomatoes." I grinned and asked "Which one ya got there?"

It was, of course, Bigfoot, who demonstrated that some dogs do eat tomatoes by snarfing down a slice of the big tomatoes Jay & Mallie had brought and then following up with two of the grape tomatoes I had for the green bean salad. The BLTs were splendid, even if Jay's world view was a little shocked. ;)

After a little bit of yakking, we all had an early bedtime. Three of us were short on sleep and one had spent nine hours on a bus, so we were pretty ready to chill out. Jay & Mallie moved their air mattress into the living room so Rob could have the guest bed, and after a final let out of the dogs, everyone could sleep in peace.

It's hard for me to explain how truly wonderful it is for me to go to sleep knowing that some of my favorite people in the whole world are under the same roof. I slept very well, and Friday was even better than Thursday...

The JammiesFest Cookbook

Flannel Jammies' Dill Bread

5 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
Dill--6 tablespoons if fresh, 3 if dried
4 tablespoons butter or margarine
16 ounces cottage cheese
2 large or 3 small eggs
½ cup warm water
½ teaspoon sugar
2 packets yeast

Sift 4½ cups flour with baking soda, salt & dill.

Heat the cottage cheese in microwave until just warm enough to melt the butter. Stir butter into margarine, allow mixture to cool.

Add eggs to cooled cottage cheese mixture and stir well.

Rinse a one cup measure with warm water, then add the ½ cup very warm water. Sprinkle the yeast on top of the warm water and immediately add sugar. Stir so yeast dissolves, then add to cottage cheese mixture.

Add yeast/cottage cheese mixture to dry ingredients. Let rise for one hour. Grease & flour two standard loaf pans. Spread remaining ½ cup flour on work surface. Remove bread dough from bowl and knead thoroughly. Divide dough in half, shape each half into a loaf and place in prepared pans. Allow to rise for another hour, then bake at 350º for 45 minutes. Remove from pans and cool.

Lemon Pound Cake

1 lemon cake mix
1 instant lemon pudding mix
4 eggs
½ cup cold water
½ cup vegetable oil
1/3 cup lemon juice
Confectioner's sugar

Grease & flour a bundt or angel food cake pan. Combine cake mix, pudding, eggs, water & oil in a large bowl. Mix on low speed until ingredients are blended, then on high speed for two minutes (450 strokes by hand). Pour cake batter into pan, bake at 325º for 45 minutes.

Remove cake from pan, and cool slightly on wire rack. Pour lemon juice into a small mixing bowl, and stir in confectioner's sugar until you have a thick glaze.

When cake is no longer hot but still warm, transfer to cake plate and drizzle glaze over top of cake. Serve with sliced strawberries or blueberries or raspberries.

Italian Green Bean Salad

2 pounds fresh green beans
1 pint grape or cherry tomatoes
12 ounces fresh ciliegne mozzarella or feta cheese
5-6 large fresh basil leaves
1-2 cups Italian salad dressing

Wash and trim green beans, add to pot of boiling water and cook five minutes or until bright green and still crisp. Drain beans and run cold water over them until they are completely cooled.

In large salad bowl, toss beans, cheese & tomatoes. Chop or snip basil leaves into mixture. Add salad dressing and toss until everything is coated. Add salt & pepper to taste, cover bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours.

Picnic Potatoes

1 bag frozen hash browns, southern style (cubed potatoes)
1 family-sized can cream of anything soup
2 cups cheddar cheese
16 ounces sour cream
2 tablespoons onion powder or dried chopped onions
1 tablespoon garlic powder
5-6 tablespoons fresh chives, chopped fine (if using garlic chives, omit the garlic powder)
Parmesan cheese (the only time you'll want the cheap stuff in the cardboard container)

Combine all ingredients except the Parmesan in a large mixing bowl. Grease a 13 x 9 x 2 baking pan, pour in potato mixture. Shake Parmesan over the top until it is evenly covered. Bake at 350º for one hour or until Parmesan has formed a golden-brown crust.

Kir Royales

Creme de Cassis (black currant liqueur) or black raspberry liqueur
Champagne or Asti Spumante

Chill champagne or asti thoroughly. Pour ½ shot glass of liqueur into champagne flute. Tilt flute and slowly pour in champagne. Repeat as necessary. ;)

Maibowle (May Wine) (Courtesy of Jay)

2 bottles riesling
1 pint fresh/ripe strawberries - sliced
big handful of fresh sweet-woodruff

Put berries and woodruff into a pitcher
Pour in both bottles of wine
Let sit overnight or 24 hours

Serve Chilled

(note, if strawberries aren't -very- ripe, they can be prepped after slicing with powdered sugar and let to sit for a few hours before making May Wine)

Mean ol' Scott

has tagged me.

The meme:

* Write a six-word memoir.

* Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.

* Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere.

* Tag 5 more blogs with links.

* Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.

The memoir:

I painted my brothers with lipstick.

The visual:





I am tagging Zayrina, Fluffykins, Becs, Queen Mediocretia and the Alpaca.

Et tu, Rooter?

*sigh* Today was going well--the guest bedroom and the living room are both clean, and I have time still to tackle the kitchen, bathroom and study. Unfortunately, I cracked the pretty glass pitcher I was saving for Jay's Riesling conconcoction, so it looks as if he'll be making that in my tacky plastic pitcher again. :(

When I sat down on the breezeway for a break, I happened to look out the windows to the front yard, and saw a sleek brown head. I stood up, and Rooter, my resident groundhog, gallumphed away and flowed down into the culvert.

I should mention I've been losing lavender plants, and now I know who the culprit is.

*double sigh*

Three grocery stores, two liquor stores and

one convenience store and I have most of the necessary items for JammiesFest 2008. I've stopped using the ticker because it's dated for Monday and JammiesFest won't actually start until Wednesday and I'm too lazy to make a new one and change all the old blog entries. :P

Supplies laid in:

A bottle of Creme de Cassis
A bottle of Creme de Black Raspberry
A big bottle of Asti Spumante
Four pounds of flank steak, resting comfortably in the freezer, one rubbed with black pepper and pesto and the other with black pepper and garlic
Five pounds of thick-cut, peppered bacon
The ingredients for two loaves of dill bread
The ingredients for a lemon pound cake
One bag salt & pepper kettle-cooked potato chips
One bag Tuscan cheddar potato chips
One large case of Diet Pepsi
One bag garlic bagel chips
Eggs
English muffins

Supplies to be bought on Wednesday:

Cucumbers
Romaine
Strawberries
Carrots
Tortillas
Cheeses

The cleaning will commence tomorrow, and possibly even a B A T H for Bigfoot. On Monday, I plan to take it easy, maybe do a craft project or play mad scientist. On Tuesday I'm going to finish up the cleaning & laundry, and on Wednesday I'll shop for perishables and vacuum and put the final touches on Casa de Jammies. :)

No more relying on Snopes

A while back, Snopes ran a badly-researched article on the book & movie versions of The Golden Compass. I wrote to them about it (actually, I sent them a thoughtful and amazing post written at the Lush message board by a poster named Shelby), and while they didn't precisely fix the entire article, they did remove some of the more blatant errors and the proof that they had relied on abstracts as opposed to reading the books.

Today, when I was reading about the Kitty Genovese event, I ran across an article from Snopes about an urban legend about a rape during Scream Session week.

I was surprised and dismayed to find that Snopes reiterates the Kitty Genovese urban legend, and really upset to get an e-mail in response to my comment which basically said, "Look up the references if you don't believe us." Upon taking another look at the article, I note that the only reference is to the scream session legend, they have nothing cited to back up their figure on the Genovese case.

You'd think they'd try to not propagate more urban legends.

What a day!

In three weeks, my niece Princess Mathgeek will be visiting my parents for an extended stay. My nephews will join the Princess and Plaid & Flannel Jammies at the Lakeside house for two weeks. Flannel Jammies' sister and four of her six grandchildren will be there also. In August, Plaid Jammies' sister and her family will be at Ogelbay, WV, so the senior Jammies and the younger Pickypants will take part in that reunion.

Two years ago, one of my cousins made family t-shirts for all the kids at Lakeside, and Mom decided she wanted to make two sets of shirts, one for Lakeside and one for Ogelbay. She bought the shirts a while back, and we bought an assortment of iron-on transfer paper. The store didn't have 20 sheets of any one kind, so we wound up with three different brands.

Today, I went out to Mom & Dad's and after I helped Mom weed the front bed where all her roses are and admired her new plant hanger, I tasted-tested the pulled pork and two different sauces she made to take to the Lake (verdict--both sauces were on the bland side but the pork was extremely tender).

After lunch, we loaded the paper into an ink-jet printer, printed off adorable pictures of ice cream cones, sombreros, and logos for the two resorts. Unfortunately, while the small pieces ironed on just fine, the larger pieces refused to melt and we wound up wasting three t-shirts and a lot of printer ink. Fortunately, Mom and I always have fun when we're working together, even if we're both horribly frustrated. I left about an hour after I intended to, having missed both my nap and dinner.

On my way home, I stopped and got gas, and thanks to having yesterday off, I spent about $11 less than I usually do to fill my tank. I figured I would treat myself to Arby's as an antidote to all the frustration. I pulled into the parking lot of the dying little shopping plaza near me, but on my way to the Arby's drive-through, I saw that the guy who sets up a seasonal plant-selling area was having a clearance sale.

I wound up spending $13 and getting two burgundy sweet potato vines, six white petunias, two midnight purple salvias, and eighteen snapdragons. I still haven't eaten dinner because I planted everything and then watered, but a low-blood sugar headache is a pretty cheap price to pay. :)

Oh, and Dad thinks Mom will have better luck using Epson's own iron-on transfer paper, so I saved everything to a folder on his desktop and Mom's going to try again.

Flannel Jammies knows EVERYONE

Last night, I had my first bath in weeks, and it was lovely--all geranium goodness. Then this morning, my car started coughing and hesitating, so rather than tackle the interstate, I came home, called work and called Saturn to see if they could get me in. They were booked for the next two weeks, so they suggested I call the dealership in Middleburg Heights. So let's see--I call the dealership because I'm worried about getting safely to Independence, and you tell me to go someplace even farther away than that. Not helpful, guys.

The place where I had my brakes done in April has a new owner, and he's not honoring the previous owner's warranties, so I sure as hell wasn't going there. In looking at yellowpages.com, I found a place about two blocks from here, and they happened to be open at seven thirty in the morning, so I locked up the car and took it down there. The guy I spoke with brought me home as a test drive, and said he'd call me as soon as he knew what was wrong.

When he did, the $1000 I'd saved by going with Clearwater instead of Culligan went right out the window. Well, most of it--I needed a tuneup, sparkplugs and the big spendy bit was a new EGR valve, to the tune of $870.00. *sigh*

I called Mom to let her know what was going on, and turns out that the owner's daughter was a former student of hers. This happens all the time--we will be at a restaurant and a server or the hostess or maitre d' will be a former student. We go to the Ohio Mart and we run into dozens of former students, former colleagues, former clients. It's amazing and a little humbling to see how very many people remember her with pleasure. Someday, I hope that I will have had a positive effect on lots of people, if not that many.

Honor thy father

means not killing him, right?

Clearwater was typically non-specific about the arrival time of the water softener installer, so I was home and changed out of my work clothes by noon. Dad arrived about quarter after, and was pouty because the work I'd brought home was stuff I had to do on the computer. After his little hissyfit, he stomped out to the garage to hook a battery charger up to my lawnmower while the coffee he'd pretty much demanded I make was brewing. At some point after Dad went to the garage but before he came back in, Bigfoot pooped on the breezeway floor.

On his way back in, Dad not only stepped in it, but failed to notice that he'd done so, and he tracked it through the breezeway, the kitchen, the hallway and the bathroom. When I told him what had happened, he got angry with poor old Bigfoot and angry with me, and bitched and whined about how it would never come out of the treads of his shoes. NB: I took them outside and used the pinpoint setting on my sprayer head and they cleaned up perfectly. Dad put his shoes back on, poured coffee into his traveling mug (leaving a small pond of coffee on the kitchen counter for me) and went to the bank and to do some shopping. He told me to call him when the service guy arrived, but he came back at 2:00 and no one was here yet.

I closed all my files and told Dad he could have the computer for ONE. HOUR. At 3:15, I basically had to bully him into giving it up, and he told me I hadn't given him enough time to put the keyboard, monitor and speakers back where they were. After rebooting and re-arranging, I went back to work on my book. Dad installed the new bathroom fan, and I had to go admire it.

The guy finally showed up at 4:05, and I put Littlefoot in my bedroom and tied Bigfoot up outside. Dad borrowed one of my garden hoses to drain the hot water heater, put a "severe kink" in it and then borrowed my good snips to cut it apart. It started to rain, so I let poor Bigfoot back in and got yelled at for not keeping him out of the basement, despite the fact that Dad is the one leaving the damn door open every time he goes down there.

Right now, the guy's still down there installing, Dad is wandering around being a major grump, the water's still off and I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally need to piddle.

I need to send my mother flowers for putting up with him for forty-six years!

Sweat equity

Mom & I worked for four hours at the law office today, then had breakfast for lunch at a neat little local cafe, then worked three more hours on a house she's cleaning out for a guardianship. For those three hours of working in yucky heat & humidity dragging things down the stairs or up the stairs and out of the house, I earned four plastic outdoor chairs, an aluminum outdoor lounge, a recliner in decent condition, four or five books on gardening and a beautiful old steamer trunk with a domed lid.

I ache in every muscle and while I am clean and no longer sweaty, I miss being able to soak muscle aches out in the tub. I have my bath for Monday night all planned out--Aura Suavis bubble bar & shower gel, plus the spearmint/geranium Winter Stress Relief OOAK perfume from BPAL. Maybe I should have a ticker for hours left until bathtime. ;)

Who, me?

The Little Mermaid put me in for our "Helping a co-worker" award and I got a nice e-mail and a $10 gift card for Starbucks. I'm all blushy and sniffly.

Random

You wouldn't think two hours of work and six hours of training would be more tiring than eight hours of work, but I'm exhausted.

My arm hurts like hell.

Driving home was a nightmare--the rain was so heavy the freeway traffic was at a standstill.

I burned my tongue.

*looks at ticker*

I can haz JammiesFest naow?

Oh, and be jealous--the lovely Kogi sent me a commemorative mug.

Let there be (drinkable) water

Yes, there will be water in time for JammiesFest '08. Rob will not have to worry about remembering which is the potable water if he wakes up in the middle of the night, and I will be a relaxed and happy Jammies owing to my renewed ability to bathe.

On either June 30th (hopefully) or July 7th (more likely), Clearwater Systems will be installing a new AquaSystems Smart Choice 200 model water softener.

I'm so excited I may go organize my bath products, and I am already debating what scent my celebratory bath should be.

Buggre All This Everything

The following is from Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible.* The lengthy compositor's error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five:

2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher.
3. And bye the border of Afhter, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali.
4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh.
5. Buggre all this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typeƒettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbeƒticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thiƒ mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workeƒhoppe. @*"Æ@;!*
6 And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a portion for Reuben.

*[The Buggre Alle This Bible was also noteworthy for having twenty seven verses in the third chapter of Genesis, instead of the more usual twenty four.

They followed verse 24, which in the King James version reads:

"So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life," and read:

25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee?
26 And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.
27 And the Lord did not ask him again.

It appears that these verses were inserted during the proof stage. In those days it was common practice for printers to hang proof sheets to the wooden beams outside their shops, for the edification of the populace and some free proofreading, and since the whole print run was subsequently burned anyway, no one bothered to take up this matter with the nice Mr. A. Ziraphale, who ran the bookshop two doors along and was always so helpful with the translations, and whose handwriting was instantly recognizable.]

It was this passage (or paƒƒage) which made me realize that I am essentially a high-tech typesetter (not that I mind, it's actually good to have a label to use when I need to answer the "What do you do" question). After last week, I'd replace "Master Scraggs" with "Miƒtreƒƒ Patricia," but other than that, I'm familiar with the temptation.

Got my water softener estimates today. The good news is that it's not $3,500 or even $3,000 but probably more like $1,800-$1,900. The bad news is that is 95 Ladies of the Grindhouse, 158 Body Glaze Samplers or just under 30 dog baths!

Dad was a big help this afternoon, asking questions and letting me think out loud after all the salesmen had left. He also took a look at my bathroom fan, couldn't fix it, and took the carcass away to get a new one (which I hope will be installed before JammiesFest). He also did all my Windows updates and admired my Kogimugs (but refused to use one on the grounds that he would feel awful if he broke it). It was a productive afternoon if not an exciting one.

It looks as if JammiesFest will have usable water but possibly a lot of ramen on the menu. Ahh well, the most important thing is the time with the friends willing to drive all this way to be here. :)

A Jammies without a bath is like

...any unpleasant simile, really. I am sore and cranky and all rumpled up in my soul. Plus my bathtub is blue with orange from my showers (which are so very not the same as a bath) and my dishwasher is a giant drying rack and I'm worried about doing laundry.

On Monday there are three companies coming to give me estimates, and my dad is going to try to be here. Nothing like a Monday full of grumpy old men. :P

Zombies, pants and Oompa Loompa water

My custom sock zombie arrived from Erin. As a result of a discussion Mallie, Becs and I had a while back, his name is Izbin. He is so freaking cute that I keep expecting him to ask "I can has bwains?" and looking into his one big and one small green eye, I would say yes, because he is adorable.

Littlefoot has no pants. He spent last Friday at the groomer's, and came home fluffy, sweet-smelling, wearing a triangle of cloth with a puppy print on it, and pantsless. His formerly Jiffy Pop butt is now sleek and you can see his cute little feet! He keeps nudging the "bandana" as if to ask me to put it back on him, which I will do for JammiesFest.







Speaking of JammiesFest, I am awaiting loan approval so I can get a new water softener. Because my water is dark orange thanks to all the iron in it, I am on both a no-buy (meaning no spending fun money) and a no-bath for the foreseeable future. I just hope I can get it fixed before JammiesFest. *sigh*

I've never thought of myself that way!

Yesterday afternoon, I loaded all of my Home Depot purchases onto one of those big flatbed carts they have and headed up to the register. The cashier asked me, in a tone of surprise, if I had loaded everything in by myself. When I said yes, she asked why I hadn't asked for help (ummm, because I didn't think to!). The only time I have asked for help was the last time I bought topsoil at Ace Hardware, and then only because I stopped on my way to a dinner engagement and I didn't want to get dirty.

I got a similar reaction every time I bought a carload of mulch and helped load it and when I turn down help loading the fifty-pound bag of dog food I buy every month. I keep getting comments about how strong I must be. My internal response is that it's really not all that awesome to be able to heave things around for a short time--"strong" is the people who load all this crap I buy onto and off of trucks, etc.

It makes me wonder if it is my appearance (short, fat, elderly) which makes people surprised about my ability to carry things. Or is it that Americans in general have gotten in the habit of having others do things for us? Perhaps it falls somewhere in between, but I feel a little weird being admired for something that really isn't all that special, although I will cherish the comment the Home Depot cashier made on my way out.

"I sure wouldn't want to mess with you!"

*snort*

I'll admit it--sometimes I am five

From 8:30 a.m. until 2:30 p.m., I was a responsible adult. I paid my bills, did my job, drove safely, had yogurt for breakfast, etc.

But when I left work, I went and spent my "allowance" on retaining bricks, limestone gravel, marble chips and potting soil. Then I picked up a soft, slimmer, tangle-free, sweet-scented and very adorable Littlefoot at the groomer's (bless his dumb little heart, he tried to walk out through the picture window).

After dinner, I went out and spread the limestone gravel in the soggy spot in my back flowerbed, then covered it over with the last four bags of mulch. I got four tomatos planted and about 2/3 of the stones on top of the first layer of the round bed in the front yard.

Then the thunderstorm started.

Instead of going inside, I kept potting and playing out in the rain. I splashed around in puddles in the driveway, cleared the driveway drain about three times, sang to myself and had a great time. When I came in, I was utterly drenched and filthy, and while I did towel off most of the dirt and wash my arms, my bath is going to feel amazing tonight. And yes, my inner five year old will be happy with bubbles and glitter!

Because leaving your side door unlocked is exactly like wearing a miniskirt

...it just invites rape.

Never mind that it's a side door.

Never mind that you can't tell if a door is locked unless you try it.

Never mind that anyone trying to open a stranger's door probably doesn't have a whole lot of nice things in mind.

Leave your door unlocked and get assaulted and raped, at least according to one big-mouthed member of the RCMP.

Here's my letter to the editor, feel free to write your own:

I'm sure anyone with criminal intent is very comforted to know that Cpl. Buxley will excuse rape & assault on the basis of an unlocked door which isn't visible from the street. How nice for the bad guys.

I'm so ticked I can't see straight right now.

Fun stuff!

I've fallen absolutely in love with a webcomic called "Narbonic." Evil scientists, computer geeks, genetically engineered gerbils and steampunk. What's not to love?

Things not to do on Monday

At least not in this particular order:

1. Apply hydrocortisone cream to itchy spot on left hand, using fingers of right hand.
2. Alternate between using pen & highlighter with right hand.
3. Nibble thoughtfully on end of pen.
4. Wonder why your lips are numb.

Oops.

I haz a zombie!

He is custom made from socks I sent Erin. You should go look at him and then buy a different zombie from her!

Oh, and Erin gave me a high-water mark in my life. I mean, how often does someone say to you, "Yours [zombie] is done, Jammies, I'm just waiting for his blood to dry"?

Great big scary Littlefoot-eating monsters

apparently have taken up residence in my back yard. Littlefoot will not go outside after dark unless I am with him, and even then, he is more interested in going back inside than he is in emptying his bladder. He started this silly behavior over the holiday weekend, and I chalked it up to the fact that my neighbors were outside having a bonfire until quite late. It's been a week now and he's still timid, so I don't know what's up. It's possible that he's scared of the deer (assuming there are some in the back yard most nights, which wouldn't surprise me) or scared of the little grey catling or who knows. I really hope that what I saw briefly on my way home one night last week wasn't a coyote, although if there are some in the area, that would be a reasonable thing for JiffyPopButt to be afraid of.

Speaking of the little grey cat, all of the no-kill shelters are full, Animal Control offered to send someone out to catch and kill the cats, and the only animal friends-type group I could reach suggested that I either catch the cat and give it a "foster home." Erm, yeah. My former co-worker has "fostered" cats--that's why she has eight. So I've hardened my heart and am following the theory of "if I don't feed it, it will move on."

WTF is going on with my hydrangea bush?

There is another cat living under there. This one is a grey adolescent, in that lanky, leggy, adorably clumsy but not really cute stage.

*chants* I am not buying cat food, I am not buying cat food, I am not buying cat food!

Even more progress

Despite an ugly bout of powerbarfing first thing this morning, I managed to get myself together and get some things done. There are only four bags of mulch left in the garage, and I can get my car in again. Those last four bags are earmarked for the spot in the back flower bed which needs a layer of limestone gravel laid down to absorb the water before I can mulch.

The laundry is almost done, the bathroom has been scoured, and all but eight of the houseplants are now outside where they can revel in sunshine and fresh air. My sheets are changed and I've done a quick inventory of the linen closet. I need another set of nice twin sheets, and I'm down to only fifteen Ice Hotels. If Lush NA ever gets their act together on offering Retro products, I foresee a great poorness in my future, especially with new scents from Skindecent and BPAL. Oh, and my second invention has made the Skindecent scent list. The first, as my few loyal readers will remember, was Treefrog Jammies, a blend of green scents & lavender. The new one is a combo of key lime, maraschino cherries & ginger ale, named Ultrasonic by a fellow Lushie named Andromedi.

Thanks to my assorted addictions, I'm rather spoiled for choice. Right now, for example, I am trying to decide what scent to use for my bath tonight. Whatever I decide on, the bathtub is one of my most important refuges. The other is my garden, especially when I am out there watering.

I was trying to describe to a friend what I love about watering plants. It's hard to verbalize because I am not a particularly philosophical person, but there's a ritual aspect to it, a definite sense of being connected to the earth, the plants, the water and a sort of calm chance to contemplate whatever my little butterfly brain feels like thinking about. I guess articulating the process doesn't really make much difference--it still feels good.

And now I have to go retrieve Bigfoot, who is outside barking hysterically at poor Rooter. *eye roll*

Progress

There are now fifteen bags of mulch left in the garage, and when it cools down some, I'm going to go see how many I can use up. It looks as if buying sixty bags wasn't too many and in fact, I could use a few more.

The new colombines are gorgeous--dark purple, verging on black and double-petaled. My two double clematis (Empress and Crystal Fountain) in the front are blooming like crazy and very healthy, but it appears that only two of the mini-roses I attempted to transplant have made it. The new Korean lilac looks very tiny and alone in the spot where the old one used to be.

Amy's pictures of her beloved Lexi have been loaded to Photobucket and the KogiMug for her birthday commissioned.

Littlefoot has an appointment to be trimmed to within an inch of his fuzzy little hide.

I've had a lovely nap and am now ready to tackle the evening!

Best dinner EVER

A sandwich made with my very first ever homemade dill bread, cream cheese, sliced cucumbers and black pepper. Perfection.

Halfway there

Apparently, I lost count of my trips to the store and loads of mulch, because I've used thirty-two bags and still have about thirty in the garage. It's okay, though, because I can still use the rest. The front beds are all mulched, and I will do the back in the next few evenings. I still need to get some limestone gravel to fill in the squishy spots in the back flowerbed before I plant a few things, and some potting soil for my tomatos and basil, but I'm pretty much on schedule with the gardening.

I half expected to feel as sore as Zayrina and Santa, but evidently losing the weight and heaving all those bags of mulch into and out of my car has toughened me up a bit. I've got that pleasantly stretched-out feeling that comes from actually using some muscles, but *knock wood* nothing painful. The back flowerbed is going to be a challenge because of the combination of weeds and standing water, but I think I can have it whipped into shape by JammiesFest.

Tomorrow, I need to go put in my time at Mom's office, do laundry, make some dill bread and do some work I brought home with me. All in all, I'd say this was a pretty successful holiday weekend.

Ooog

Not much to report here, except that I've had low-grade nausea and been very tired for about a day and a half. I'm done with the antibiotics for the paronychis, so it shouldn't be that, and I'd think if it was some kind of infection, the Augmentin would have taken care of that.

I did get my clockwork scent locket from the Trading Post, and it's even lovelier in person than in the pictures. There is a tradition among BPALz of taking a headless torso pic when you get a locket, and I've taken mine. I'm waiting for the rest of the friends who were in my gang to get their clockets so we can all post our pics together. I did learn not to wear lavender-based scents in the locket when I'm feeling lethargic--I had to take it off while I was driving home so that I wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel. Tomorrow I'll have to wear something bright and sunny so I can snort it and wake up.

It's almost the weekend, and while I'm not thrilled about the sheer amount of work I have to do on the flowerbeds, I am looking forward to how good they will look when I'm done.

Still alive

Even though I haven't been around much. I'm ready for the holiday weekend--there are fifty-five fifty pound bags of mulch in my garage, three forty pound bags of topsoil, a flat of Dusty Miller, four tomato plants, two peppermint plants and four lamium waiting for planting. I've turned down my mother's request that I babysit my nephews this weekend, and I'm excited to get moving on the garden. =)

Stuff I was going to post yesterday...

until Mallie tagged me. :P

On Sunday, I had a weird, sad dream. I was at a conference in a fancy hotel with a friend who, for some reason, was played in my dream by Whoopi Goldberg. There were cute nerds everywhere, and one of them asked for my phone number. However, it turned out that he didn't actually want my number, it was just part of the setup for a practical joke on one of his nerd friends. I can't even get picked up in my own damn dreams.

The guy who messaged me on Yahoo Personals and seemed so cute and nice never got back to me, so I certainly can't get picked up when I'm awake, either.

Tuesday night, I was almost done running a bath when the power went out. I finished my bath by candlelight, which was nice, but then couldn't read or waste time on the interwebbinetz or rot my brain with teevee or really do anything interesting. I did call the police department to make sure there was an outage and not something wrong with the wiring to my house, and apparently there was a bad car accident involving a power pole which then blew a transformer. I really hope no one was too badly hurt.

The geranium air freshener I was so excited to get smells like rose, pleh!

On the good news front, I used up three bags of mulch tonight, and planted 45 gladiolus bulbs, ten lavender plants, one lamium and potted three geraniums, the licorice plant, the helichrysum and one Dusty Miller.

My "stimulus payment" arrived, which means I can pay off some medical bills and stop the annoying messages on my answering machine, plus I got an e-mail indicating that my Clockwork locket will ship soon!

My latest Barnes & Noble order arrived, and I now have almost all of the Harry Dresden books by Jim Butcher and almost all of the Women of the Otherworld books by Kelley Armstrong. Thanks to Sherri and Heather respectively for those addictions.

On Saturday, I am going to Columbus to see my nephew get his next new Tae Kwon Do belt, and on Sunday my folks and I are having some dinner with old family friends.

Bigfoot is eating again, hooray!

And I'm going to be totally obnoxious and put my ticker on every post until JammiesFest is here.

I've been tagged!

What were you doing five years ago?

Working full-time for my mom, living and gardening at my old house, dating a Civil War re-enactor.

What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order)?

Finish drying my comforter
Watch "American Idol"
Read the new books I just got
Balance my checkbook
Take a bath

What are five snacks you enjoy?

Garlic bagel chips
Cucumber sandwiches
Whipped strawberry or raspberry yogurt
Lindt dark chocolate truffles
Pizza rolls

What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?

Endow a giant no-kill shelter and put Zayrina in charge
Get a private plane so I could travel and take my dogs with me
Add more floor space, a giant, decadent bathroom and a deck to my house
Pay for lifetime maid service

What are five of your bad habits?

I don't vacuum until I can't see the floor for fur
I don't dust unless there's company coming
I'm middling-bad about putting away clean laundry
I eat in front of the idiot box
I correct people (but I'm working on that one!)

What are five places where you have lived?

Edwards AFB, CA
Hudson, OH
Akron, OH
Cuyahoga Falls, OH
(that's it, there is no number five)

What are five jobs you’ve had?

Cashier at a convenience store
Slave labor at a fast food chain
Night desk clerk at a Super 8 Motel
Graduate assistant/tutor/English instructor
Administrative assistant to an attorney

What five people do you want to tag?

Nope. Sherri tagged everyone when she tagged me.

Stuff I learned today

I probably got home before everyone who bailed out of the office early when they heard about the accident on 480, because by the time I got to the on-ramp, traffic was moving.

Even though it makes me writhe with embarrassment, there is some switch that flips inside my brain and makes me sing along to cheesy '80s songs like "Careless Whisper."

It is amazingly fun to stalk an item of which there is a very limited quantity if you do it with a group of friends.

When a friend calls you at work and you are giddy because everyone in your group got one, stop coding. You do not need to put http://www.blackphoenixtradingpost.com/jewelry.html in volume 14 of the Indiana practice series (scroll down to the clockwork locket and die of envy).

First cousins can marry in Indiana, provided they are both over the age of sixty-five.

My noisy young next-door neighbor can be a complete doll--he's out there right now, cutting my horribly overlong grass and only charging me forty bucks.

And I already knew this, but it is so lovely to come home to a big box o'stuff ordered from teh interwebbinetz. Best part? I have two more boxes coming this week and then my scent locket sometime after that.

I am so excited about JammiesFest 2008 that I made a ticker:




Good day!

Thank you, Zayrina

for giving me the phrase "I have a tumor on my greed gland." That's what I tell myself every time I go bananas at the nursery. I did, in fact, stick to my list, yay me, and came in $12 under budget. However, the burgundy sweet potato vines I wanted aren't ready yet and neither are the butterfly bushes and I need two more helichrysum. I also succumbed to two gorgeous Martha Washington geraniums, which was dumb because I have geraniums older than my nephew and taller than I am! Now I have two more that I'll have to bring in and make space for next fall.

It's also a very chilly, very rainy spring day here, the house is a pit, and I've got a screaming sinus pressure/tension/low blood sugar headache. I've divested my car of my morning's purchases, eaten some yogurt, and I'm about to go take a midday bath with a ton of lavender bubble bath and see if a nap will kill the headache.

I got:

Two each Beacon Silver lamium with pink, white or purple flowers
The aforementioned geraniums
Twelve Munstead lavender
Six basil
Two each Big Boy and Beefmaster tomatos
Ten bags hardwood mulch
One helichrysum
One licorice plant
One delphinium
One blue balloonflower

and I totally forgot to get any ibuprofen!

Please, not another one

One of my message board friends is posting about a medical problem she's having right now. She's undergoing tests because her hands keep tingling.

If that sounds only vaguely familiar, check here. It's all too damn familiar to me, and as I read her post about the EMG, all I could think was, "Please don't let another friend have this shitty disease."

A true friend will tell you when you stink! :-)

Granted, Maresche wasn't that blunt today at work, but she did make me aware that I cannot use tea tree oil-based products if I am going to be around other people. I have been using a Lush shower gel to try to tame some severe skin irritation, and while I thought the smell was fading, it turns out I'd just gotten used to it. Thankfully, I'm now aware that I smell like an ancient medicine cabinet when I use it, and will confine my self-treatments to weekends.

I am Jammies, hear me roar!

No more messing around with this "socializing" stuff. I was up at 6:30, back from the grocery store by 8:45, and out grubbing in my garden while it rained.

I planted two baby Korean lilacs and an iris, made a space at the foot of the trellises in front of the compost heap, brought my tray full of starter seeds outside, and weeded,added topsoil and then mulched the round flowerbed in the front yard. Then I picked up sticks & branches, cleaned out the driveway drain so it could do its job, and came inside.

After that, I took a bath and had a nap, and now I'm ready to revel in a boring Saturday night.