*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*
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
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. :)
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. :)
Monday, July 07, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, June 30, 2008
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!
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!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
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. ;)
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. ;)
Friday, June 27, 2008
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.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Buggre All This Everything
The following is from Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.
It was this passage (or paÆ’Æ’age) 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 "MiÆ’treÆ’Æ’ 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. :)
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 paÆ’Æ’age) 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 "MiÆ’treÆ’Æ’ 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. :)
Saturday, June 21, 2008
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
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
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
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*
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*
Saturday, June 14, 2008
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 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*
Friday, June 13, 2008
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!
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!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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 so ticked I can't see straight right now.
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.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
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?
Monday, June 09, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
I haz a zombie!
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
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."
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."
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