* Moby - Natural Blues. And I wasn't that far off on the lyrics either. (Note to self: Never go up against my guy on "Name That Tune" ... and never underestimate his ability to translate when I say "the song goes like 'Oh Lord there's trouble ahead something ... something ... something something' and then there's music.")
* We DID sleep in this morning - after 8am even!! I was first one up so I got breakfast for us, which we both ate in bed (not something we typically ever do). We joked about my stomach growls and I think I shocked him by how fast I inhaled my doughnuts.
* CalTrans has decided to announce that they'll be putting safety first. This is news? Shouldn't they have ALWAYS been doing that?!? Guess that explains why the failure occurred in the first place.
* Shopping with gift card complete, and was met with a 90% approval rating. Hopefully that won't get any lower.
* "Snapple the cat" ... it just makes me giggle to say that out loud. "Snaaaaaaple here kitty kitty kitty? Have you seen Snapple? I last saw Snapple on the washing machine but now ... nowhere to be found." It's growing on me.
* My Brooklyn crickets met us at the door last night. After a brief negotiation, they allowed us to pass into the kitchen. Somehow I need to figure out a way to get them to spend Winter elsewhere, as I don't want to house them forever ... unless they start doing laundry for me or something.
* Different crowd at the coffee shop on weekends. Can't say that I'm wild about it, either. (Again, it's that whole "adjusting to changes in MY routine" thing.)
Furniture stores. Gonna chug my mocha and then will be off to find a couch and/or seating for the living room. For reasons I don't need to go into here, I'm incredibly nervous about doing this. *sigh*
Ok - here we go ...
Moby just started on the loop ... must be a sign ...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday Fluff
* There's this song - no idea who sings it or the name and it's possible that I'm not even getting the lyrics right - that I hear every third day or so in my coffee shop. I really like it. It's a guy singing, rather breathy voice, and I think he's saying something like "Oh Lordy - trouble ahead" over and over. Good stuff, musically. Perhaps I'll ask who it is next time I hear it.
* The leaf-blower guy is VERY thorough. I've seen him be totally done with the entire parking lot and then a patron will leave their spot and he'll go back and get that area, too.
* I really like my bed. It's comfortable and toasty warm, which may be why getting out of it is a chore. I REALLY hope to sleep in a bit tomorrow. That would be sooooooooo nice.
* Nice job on the bridge-work, SF. Maybe now getting it done *right* will be more important than getting it done *quickly*.
* I found a gift card I'd forgotten about buried deep in my pocketbook yesterday and just checked the amount online a few minutes ago. Good Lord, there's shopping to be done!!!!!
* Cat Names (for the file, to be used later). "Kitty", "Whiskers", "Cat", and "Agory" are very, very out. "Murphy" and "Snapple" seem to be at the top of the list. I also like the idea of "TS Eliot" as a cat name - but that's just the theater-geek part of me.
* If I'd been asked to bet that I would know, within the first month of my move, where the four closest home repair/hardware shops where located but not where the nearest shoe repair, high-end salon, honest car repair shop, or good dry cleaner was located, I woulda told lost money.
* The holidays are looming and I have NO ideas for those at the top of my "list". (I put "list" in quotes because I also have no list). I should start paying more attention to try to get inspired. (And I can't use the gift card for this ... because it's for a women's clothing store, and my mom spent a whole week in August donating clothing she didn't want anymore so no clothes!)
* The crickets seem to have mostly departed from the basement. The two that tried to mug me last night were - I hope - the last of the clan. (I swear one of them was wearing a cap and talking in a Brooklyn-type accent ... something like "ya' wanna maybe toin off da' light? The glare is keeping us awake.")
* I baked off another apple pie yesterday. In honor of Halloween, I added raspberries to the apple base and decided it was a "bloody apple pie". I haven't had a slice (in fact, I haven't had any of the apple pies I've made yet - I keep giving 'em away, which is fine with me) so I hope it's good. I'll be giving this one away, too. I guess I rely on people to tell me what they taste like so that I know how I'm doing. Thus far, I've been doing alright with the pies. I have no idea if there was a big difference with making my crust from scratch vs. buying the dough but *shrug* at least I realize I CAN do it. That being said, I will probably buy some more dough and let it live in the freezer. I'm still forming it into the pie pans myself so I feel a little more connected to the final product.
That's it, I think. Ten random little bits of nonsense taking up space in my head. I feel lighter already. I guess that's why I do this ... the whole "blog" thing, I mean. I know that some folks write for laughs or to educate, some write about their children and/or their families, or to chronicle a specific journey. I write to clean my head.
You'd think I'd write far more often, eh?
* The leaf-blower guy is VERY thorough. I've seen him be totally done with the entire parking lot and then a patron will leave their spot and he'll go back and get that area, too.
* I really like my bed. It's comfortable and toasty warm, which may be why getting out of it is a chore. I REALLY hope to sleep in a bit tomorrow. That would be sooooooooo nice.
* Nice job on the bridge-work, SF. Maybe now getting it done *right* will be more important than getting it done *quickly*.
* I found a gift card I'd forgotten about buried deep in my pocketbook yesterday and just checked the amount online a few minutes ago. Good Lord, there's shopping to be done!!!!!
* Cat Names (for the file, to be used later). "Kitty", "Whiskers", "Cat", and "Agory" are very, very out. "Murphy" and "Snapple" seem to be at the top of the list. I also like the idea of "TS Eliot" as a cat name - but that's just the theater-geek part of me.
* If I'd been asked to bet that I would know, within the first month of my move, where the four closest home repair/hardware shops where located but not where the nearest shoe repair, high-end salon, honest car repair shop, or good dry cleaner was located, I woulda told lost money.
* The holidays are looming and I have NO ideas for those at the top of my "list". (I put "list" in quotes because I also have no list). I should start paying more attention to try to get inspired. (And I can't use the gift card for this ... because it's for a women's clothing store, and my mom spent a whole week in August donating clothing she didn't want anymore so no clothes!)
* The crickets seem to have mostly departed from the basement. The two that tried to mug me last night were - I hope - the last of the clan. (I swear one of them was wearing a cap and talking in a Brooklyn-type accent ... something like "ya' wanna maybe toin off da' light? The glare is keeping us awake.")
* I baked off another apple pie yesterday. In honor of Halloween, I added raspberries to the apple base and decided it was a "bloody apple pie". I haven't had a slice (in fact, I haven't had any of the apple pies I've made yet - I keep giving 'em away, which is fine with me) so I hope it's good. I'll be giving this one away, too. I guess I rely on people to tell me what they taste like so that I know how I'm doing. Thus far, I've been doing alright with the pies. I have no idea if there was a big difference with making my crust from scratch vs. buying the dough but *shrug* at least I realize I CAN do it. That being said, I will probably buy some more dough and let it live in the freezer. I'm still forming it into the pie pans myself so I feel a little more connected to the final product.
That's it, I think. Ten random little bits of nonsense taking up space in my head. I feel lighter already. I guess that's why I do this ... the whole "blog" thing, I mean. I know that some folks write for laughs or to educate, some write about their children and/or their families, or to chronicle a specific journey. I write to clean my head.
You'd think I'd write far more often, eh?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, Brought To You By The Letter "P"
(Note to the Awesome Boyfriend - See?? I TOLD ya' I was gonna write about this!)
**********
Last night, after a quick meal out, as the quiet enfolded the house, the Awesome Boyfriend leaned over to me and said something like "... photogenic, by the way. Not 'photographic'." If you're looking for context in this comment, so was I. But, in my blob entry yesterday, I wrote that my niece is photogenic and that I've never really been photographic. And apparently that reads strangely.
This would be another one of those times where I know what it sounds like in my head - and it SOUNDS correct - even if it doesn't quite read that way. And ... the other thing of it is that the Awesome Boyfriend is very very intelligent. Not just educated, 'tho he is that, to be sure - but he's also just very smart. And he barely even mentioned it - the incorrect word, I mean, so it's not like he was just looking for something to correct me on. Not at all - he was just doing some filing in his head and came across that in his "random stuff" stack and heck, I can relate. Out of nowhere last night during dinner, I mentioned that I'd found a new sitcom online and it really sucked. No context at all - we weren't talking about TV or anything. I just was doing my own "head files cleanup" and came upon that "note to self". He looked at me for more and I didn't have any more. That was the extent of my comment.
Anyway so here's the thing. I realize that photogenic SOUNDS like what I meant to write. I know it reads better that way - and I agree that photogenic would work just as well. But it really isn't what I meant. In my mind, someone who is photoGENic gets prepared for a photography session, sits nicely, relaxes their face, clears their mind, gets to their "happy place" or whatever and *click* great shot. In my head, someone who is photoGRAPHic just naturally takes a great shot - never needs to prepare, is hardly aware of a camera being out, never worries about what their facial muscles are doing or if they were squinting, etc.
So when I wrote yesterday that N#1 is photogenic, I meant just that. Her mom spent extra time on getting her ready and she sat nicely with her hands folded and looking into the camera and, in the ten or more shots that were taken, they selected the best one and there ya' go. She's photogenic. However she's also a child - so if she's NOT prepared, if she's not aware of the camera, her face gets all screwy and then ya' remember "oh - right - she's FOUR."
N#2 never seems to be relaxed in front of a camera. Ever. Possibly it's an awareness that her sister is rather a shutter hog, but more likely it's just part of being two years old. The "hmmm - what do I look like at this moment?" awareness that everyone older than her seems to have acquired may not have kicked in yet. Thus far, N#2 is not photographic. I've seen shots of her being photogenic, but they're not as common as the ones where she's just being a kid.
There's today's look in the "FTG Dictionary". Photogenic - someone who can pose well in a photograph when prepared. Photographic - someone who looks their best in a photograph, prepared or not.
**********
(Hey hun - maybe tonight we can try to find my Webster's in one of my boxes in the back bedroom? Just - yanno - for me to have it nearby and all...)
**********
Last night, after a quick meal out, as the quiet enfolded the house, the Awesome Boyfriend leaned over to me and said something like "... photogenic, by the way. Not 'photographic'." If you're looking for context in this comment, so was I. But, in my blob entry yesterday, I wrote that my niece is photogenic and that I've never really been photographic. And apparently that reads strangely.
This would be another one of those times where I know what it sounds like in my head - and it SOUNDS correct - even if it doesn't quite read that way. And ... the other thing of it is that the Awesome Boyfriend is very very intelligent. Not just educated, 'tho he is that, to be sure - but he's also just very smart. And he barely even mentioned it - the incorrect word, I mean, so it's not like he was just looking for something to correct me on. Not at all - he was just doing some filing in his head and came across that in his "random stuff" stack and heck, I can relate. Out of nowhere last night during dinner, I mentioned that I'd found a new sitcom online and it really sucked. No context at all - we weren't talking about TV or anything. I just was doing my own "head files cleanup" and came upon that "note to self". He looked at me for more and I didn't have any more. That was the extent of my comment.
Anyway so here's the thing. I realize that photogenic SOUNDS like what I meant to write. I know it reads better that way - and I agree that photogenic would work just as well. But it really isn't what I meant. In my mind, someone who is photoGENic gets prepared for a photography session, sits nicely, relaxes their face, clears their mind, gets to their "happy place" or whatever and *click* great shot. In my head, someone who is photoGRAPHic just naturally takes a great shot - never needs to prepare, is hardly aware of a camera being out, never worries about what their facial muscles are doing or if they were squinting, etc.
So when I wrote yesterday that N#1 is photogenic, I meant just that. Her mom spent extra time on getting her ready and she sat nicely with her hands folded and looking into the camera and, in the ten or more shots that were taken, they selected the best one and there ya' go. She's photogenic. However she's also a child - so if she's NOT prepared, if she's not aware of the camera, her face gets all screwy and then ya' remember "oh - right - she's FOUR."
N#2 never seems to be relaxed in front of a camera. Ever. Possibly it's an awareness that her sister is rather a shutter hog, but more likely it's just part of being two years old. The "hmmm - what do I look like at this moment?" awareness that everyone older than her seems to have acquired may not have kicked in yet. Thus far, N#2 is not photographic. I've seen shots of her being photogenic, but they're not as common as the ones where she's just being a kid.
There's today's look in the "FTG Dictionary". Photogenic - someone who can pose well in a photograph when prepared. Photographic - someone who looks their best in a photograph, prepared or not.
**********
(Hey hun - maybe tonight we can try to find my Webster's in one of my boxes in the back bedroom? Just - yanno - for me to have it nearby and all...)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Picture This
Yesterday's mail included some cards and photographs from my sister. (My sister, like me, cannot buy just ONE card in a shop. It seems neither of us can leave a card store for under $10.)
In one photograph is N#1 (Niece #1) sitting perfectly, her lovely face framed with her long hair freshly brushed and moderately curled, looking off to one side of the camera (as we were always instructed to do on "picture day") and, while I'm biased, she really IS very photogenic.
It is with mild envy that I must admit N#1 looks as beautiful as my sister did at that age. It is with an equally mild amount of annoyance that I admit that I was never the photographic one. For starters, that would have meant sitting still for several minutes and that was just a giant waste of my time, when there were trees to climb and games to play and bikes to ride. I'll further admit that I'm still not photographic. As I've said to the Awesome Boyfriend, I believe that I'm better live and in person.
In a separate photo that was included in the stack was a more "real" version of N#1 ... laying on the carpet looking exhausted while playing in the living room with N#2 and their puppy. In that shot, N#2 looks nearly exactly like I did at that age ... huge forced grin/grimace complete with missing teeth, hair askew, face ruddy from playing hard. Heck, add a cast on her arm and I'd swear it was me.
Which reminds me - I wanna call my sister and tell her to up the calcium intake on N#2. Yanno ... just in case.
In one photograph is N#1 (Niece #1) sitting perfectly, her lovely face framed with her long hair freshly brushed and moderately curled, looking off to one side of the camera (as we were always instructed to do on "picture day") and, while I'm biased, she really IS very photogenic.
It is with mild envy that I must admit N#1 looks as beautiful as my sister did at that age. It is with an equally mild amount of annoyance that I admit that I was never the photographic one. For starters, that would have meant sitting still for several minutes and that was just a giant waste of my time, when there were trees to climb and games to play and bikes to ride. I'll further admit that I'm still not photographic. As I've said to the Awesome Boyfriend, I believe that I'm better live and in person.
In a separate photo that was included in the stack was a more "real" version of N#1 ... laying on the carpet looking exhausted while playing in the living room with N#2 and their puppy. In that shot, N#2 looks nearly exactly like I did at that age ... huge forced grin/grimace complete with missing teeth, hair askew, face ruddy from playing hard. Heck, add a cast on her arm and I'd swear it was me.
Which reminds me - I wanna call my sister and tell her to up the calcium intake on N#2. Yanno ... just in case.
Friday, October 23, 2009
It's Not So Unusual.
We all have a routine. It may not be structured day-by-day, but there are things we do that we just ... do. There are things that we expect - not necessarily detailed or fancy - that we just expect. The paper being on the door step in the morning, the radio traffic reports at a specific time, maybe even a "usual time" for the mail being delivered or a usual spread on our usual sandwich made with our usual bread. These little "count-ons" seem normal and regular to us - but other folks have THEIR routine too - and gosh, are THEY ever picky!!!
I was standing in line for my coffee this morning, and the individual in front of me just could not get over the shop not having strawberry topping for her Friday bagel. Even after the staff explained that they had to toss out their stash because it had reached the expiration date, and that it was a seasonal item anyway, this person was just aghast that her "usual" was no longer available. She wasn't upset at the staff - she understood it was not their decision - but now she had to change her routine and that really seemed to bug her.
My first reaction was one of "geez - get over it lady". My second was a more smug "see, this wouldn't happen if you had a stash of homemade jam". And my third reaction was just beginning to wash over me when I heard a voice behind the counter say "Oh hi! Your usual order"?
Busted. Totally and completely busted.
So yes, I have a routine. Not including my coffee order, I have my usual table, where I setup my laptop and power it up before I place my order. I have my usual parking area where I can keep an eye on who parks next to me, in an effort to avoid door dings. I have my usual route to get to the cafe, and even a usual time by which I've arrived. All these usuals are tied to just this one event in my day - getting coffee.
Of course, like everyone else, I also have a whole routine prior to getting out of the house each day and, while the events of each day may be somewhat varied, there are things that I already fall back on, even though I've lived here a total of 29 days. It seems that, as humans, we really are creatures of habit.
And, that being said, it's not my habit to spend the entire morning here so I'm gonna wrap up, drive my standard route back home, back into the driveway (as I typically do) and go enjoy what has become my usual Friday routine.
(damn, now I'm craving toast and strawberry jam)
I was standing in line for my coffee this morning, and the individual in front of me just could not get over the shop not having strawberry topping for her Friday bagel. Even after the staff explained that they had to toss out their stash because it had reached the expiration date, and that it was a seasonal item anyway, this person was just aghast that her "usual" was no longer available. She wasn't upset at the staff - she understood it was not their decision - but now she had to change her routine and that really seemed to bug her.
My first reaction was one of "geez - get over it lady". My second was a more smug "see, this wouldn't happen if you had a stash of homemade jam". And my third reaction was just beginning to wash over me when I heard a voice behind the counter say "Oh hi! Your usual order"?
Busted. Totally and completely busted.
So yes, I have a routine. Not including my coffee order, I have my usual table, where I setup my laptop and power it up before I place my order. I have my usual parking area where I can keep an eye on who parks next to me, in an effort to avoid door dings. I have my usual route to get to the cafe, and even a usual time by which I've arrived. All these usuals are tied to just this one event in my day - getting coffee.
Of course, like everyone else, I also have a whole routine prior to getting out of the house each day and, while the events of each day may be somewhat varied, there are things that I already fall back on, even though I've lived here a total of 29 days. It seems that, as humans, we really are creatures of habit.
And, that being said, it's not my habit to spend the entire morning here so I'm gonna wrap up, drive my standard route back home, back into the driveway (as I typically do) and go enjoy what has become my usual Friday routine.
(damn, now I'm craving toast and strawberry jam)
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Just Another Day
It wasn't far from my mind ... though I made sure it wasn't the focal point, either. While yesterday wasn't just any other day, I decided that I wouldn't think of it as a big deal - it'd WOULD be just another day. I'd say that I made that decision for the sake of my own sanity, but I also had the sanity of those near me in mind as well. My mindset was basically that of "this will only be a big deal if I MAKE it a big deal" and, truthfully, I didn't want it to be a big deal. Perhaps "noted", but nothing more.
And another apple (which I WAS just gonna freeze but it was too tall so I baked it off).
So I made pie.
Strawberry ...
... and apple (with crust from SCRATCH!!!!) ...
... and caramel apple (with crust from SCRATCH!!!!) ...
(no post-baked shot on that yet, but I'll add it in).
And another apple (which I WAS just gonna freeze but it was too tall so I baked it off).
In any event, I kept busy. I SHOULD have been shopping for shelves or lighting or couches or unpacking more boxes ... but I had these GREAT apples to work with 
and decided that it was more important to spend the day baking in the kitchen making pies to thank those close to me. It felt better this way - rather than spending time sitting quietly and possibly "getting into my head" too much - to reach out with an expression of thanks.
and decided that it was more important to spend the day baking in the kitchen making pies to thank those close to me. It felt better this way - rather than spending time sitting quietly and possibly "getting into my head" too much - to reach out with an expression of thanks.With no electronic distractions in the home, I've found that I actually enjoy the silence, but I imagine that if my brain started to take me down a dark road, it'd be hard to change course so - I just did things that I wanted to do (rather than the "really should do" stuff). And I had a really nice day, even though my back kinda hurt from spending most of my day standing in the kitchen, either near the oven or at the sink.
But my day was made - absolutely MADE - when my guy showed up at the end of his work day with these LOVELY flowers for no reason at all. (What's better than pie for no reason? Flowers for no reason!!)
Once I found a vase and got them in some water, I turned to him and asked him why ... and he very quietly said that he'd wanted to do this for a bit, and that he didn't wanna make a big deal outta the day but figured that I'd appreciate them on "this day".
I still don't know how he remembered ... and I honestly don't know how he managed to figure out my state of mind over recognizing the passing of my "procedural anniversary" ... and I don't even know how he found time to get flowers and still be home at his usual time, but then, the reasons and hows aren't important.
He just ... did. And I just ... do. And we just ... are.
It turned out to be just another day.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The View From The Back
I don't consider myself short really. I did at one time though ... in fact, while growing up, I was ALWAYS the smallest in my class, the smallest in my family, the smallest in a group photo. But somewhere in my very early 20s, I looked around and saw that I was of average height, which was fine by me. I started moving myself to the middle or back rows in photos (which I was also fine with since I never really knew what to do with my hands), and no longer felt that others thought I needed to be accommodated for my lack of height - since I didn't lack it.
Anyway ...
Yesterday I was sitting in the back of a vehicle for a couple of hours. Some of the ride was spent in conversation, but some was spent in quiet reflection. (Well, for me anyway. I dunno what the other folks in the vehicle were doing but I was reflecting.) The folks in the front seats were both taller than I, and sitting in the back only amplified that difference, and it was that difference that got me thinking.
You see - the two people in the front were ... are ... really important to me. And they've both made some pretty incredible changes in their lives to allow for me to be included, not just in the vehicle but in their lives. And the last time I experienced that kind of selflessness - the last time I noticed and remarked about this sort of act of kindness - it was also being done by two people ... folks I call "Mom" and "Dad" and honestly, they kinda HAVE to be nice to me - these two folks who were in the front seat don't need to be - they just are.
So there I was in the back of this vehicle, reflecting away and studying the similarities and the differences between the two front-seat occupants and just ruminating on what this past year has brought my way, and it struck me that I wouldn't have been ready for this ride at any time before now.
I guess sometimes you can see more when the view in front is obscured.
Anyway ...
Yesterday I was sitting in the back of a vehicle for a couple of hours. Some of the ride was spent in conversation, but some was spent in quiet reflection. (Well, for me anyway. I dunno what the other folks in the vehicle were doing but I was reflecting.) The folks in the front seats were both taller than I, and sitting in the back only amplified that difference, and it was that difference that got me thinking.
You see - the two people in the front were ... are ... really important to me. And they've both made some pretty incredible changes in their lives to allow for me to be included, not just in the vehicle but in their lives. And the last time I experienced that kind of selflessness - the last time I noticed and remarked about this sort of act of kindness - it was also being done by two people ... folks I call "Mom" and "Dad" and honestly, they kinda HAVE to be nice to me - these two folks who were in the front seat don't need to be - they just are.
So there I was in the back of this vehicle, reflecting away and studying the similarities and the differences between the two front-seat occupants and just ruminating on what this past year has brought my way, and it struck me that I wouldn't have been ready for this ride at any time before now.
I guess sometimes you can see more when the view in front is obscured.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
In Which I'm Mistaken As "Emmy" In The 1987 Singular-Word Movie Title
I know that I've ... talked? said? written? ... before about my not having the ability to respond to a comment with the perfect comeback. For reasons I'm not sure about, I keep thinking that I'll outgrow this tongue tiedness at some point and will find myself in a situation where I will magically have the right words at the right time with the right inflection. I continue to be surprised that I've not yet reached that point. I'm beginning to think that perhaps that may never happen. I guess I should instead work on letting these occasions just float past me sans comment. THAT will take time, too I know.
For instance: last week, in a fairly tight-spaced area that was rather crowded with people, I pushed myself against a wall in a corner space to allow for others to walk past me ... it seemed to be the polite thing for me to do. I guess I was standing quite still while doing this because a complete stranger was startled to realize that I was not a mannequin. Her exact words to me were "Oh! I thought you were a dummy."
Now, I did a good job of joking about this for the rest of the week. I would refer to the poor choice of her words flippantly, as in "... but what do I know, I'm just a dummy" and "well, I'd do THIS, but then - I'm a dummy". And I of course know what the woman MEANT to say ... buuuuuut that's not what came outta her mouth.
And that this slip of someone else's tongue is festering in my brain so many days later - that I'm hearing her words echoing in my head and it is still making me cringe - makes me feel like I'm ........... an Egyptian modern-thinking princess stuck in an ancient time and forced to live through many hundreds of years until finding an unselfish partner who appreciates me as I am.
For instance: last week, in a fairly tight-spaced area that was rather crowded with people, I pushed myself against a wall in a corner space to allow for others to walk past me ... it seemed to be the polite thing for me to do. I guess I was standing quite still while doing this because a complete stranger was startled to realize that I was not a mannequin. Her exact words to me were "Oh! I thought you were a dummy."
Now, I did a good job of joking about this for the rest of the week. I would refer to the poor choice of her words flippantly, as in "... but what do I know, I'm just a dummy" and "well, I'd do THIS, but then - I'm a dummy". And I of course know what the woman MEANT to say ... buuuuuut that's not what came outta her mouth.
And that this slip of someone else's tongue is festering in my brain so many days later - that I'm hearing her words echoing in my head and it is still making me cringe - makes me feel like I'm ........... an Egyptian modern-thinking princess stuck in an ancient time and forced to live through many hundreds of years until finding an unselfish partner who appreciates me as I am.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Boxing Day
Ok - it's officially *on*.
I've been here long enough to learn how to get around town without the GPS unit. I don't hesitate as much or think about things like "so when this road gets to the end, do I turn left or right?", and I know about 3 or 4 ways to get to the nearest coffee house. So it's safe to say that I need to start getting a routine established that includes me emptying at least 4 boxes a day.
Thus far, I wake up, grab the laptop and head to the coffee shop (which is where I am currently), then I either swing by the grocery store or the home supplies store on the way home, put those items away, get some laundry going, wash dishes, get lunch going, check for any letters from my folks, and then *poof* it's time to think about dinner and then sleep and start all over again.
Notice that there's no time slot in there for "unpack the several hundred pounds of boxes and crap that you brought with you". I am, I freely admit, a pro at procrastination. WHEN I reach my limit, 'tho (and I always do), step back and be amazed.
And that's kinda been the problem. Monday rolls around and I go like gangbusters for 6 hours and then collapse in a pile of bruised limbs and sore muscles in the bath. (It's no exaggeration to say that's where my most awesome boyfriend found me last week - asleep in the bath, bubbles abounding, candles going.) I'm still aching on Tuesday so that becomes a "resting" day, then Wednesday is my catch up on around town stuff (banking, post office, grocery run), and heck Thursday sneaks up on me and before I can swill the last of my mocha, it's Saturday.
So that's it. I know today is a Friday in October, but today is Boxing Day.
*
*
*
I also wanna change the sheets today, and have laundry to do, gotta mail some presents to my nieces, and should probably balance my checkbook.
*
*
*
Ok so three boxes for sure.
*
*
*
Oh, and hang the pictures. And those last two copper bowls, need to clean those first but yeah, hang those in the kitchen. Gotta gas up the car, too.
*
*
*
Hmmm - I also promised the most awesome boyfriend that he could have those two empty crates so I gotta clean those up a bit. And, before I start unpacking MORE boxes, I should probably move the piles of stuff that came from those other boxes that's now exploded all over the living room. So that should go into the setup room first. Two boxes. I'd be happy with two boxes.
*
*
*
Gotta go freshen up my mocha ... and then *snort* watch me go! That silly box won't know what hit it.
I've been here long enough to learn how to get around town without the GPS unit. I don't hesitate as much or think about things like "so when this road gets to the end, do I turn left or right?", and I know about 3 or 4 ways to get to the nearest coffee house. So it's safe to say that I need to start getting a routine established that includes me emptying at least 4 boxes a day.
Thus far, I wake up, grab the laptop and head to the coffee shop (which is where I am currently), then I either swing by the grocery store or the home supplies store on the way home, put those items away, get some laundry going, wash dishes, get lunch going, check for any letters from my folks, and then *poof* it's time to think about dinner and then sleep and start all over again.
Notice that there's no time slot in there for "unpack the several hundred pounds of boxes and crap that you brought with you". I am, I freely admit, a pro at procrastination. WHEN I reach my limit, 'tho (and I always do), step back and be amazed.
And that's kinda been the problem. Monday rolls around and I go like gangbusters for 6 hours and then collapse in a pile of bruised limbs and sore muscles in the bath. (It's no exaggeration to say that's where my most awesome boyfriend found me last week - asleep in the bath, bubbles abounding, candles going.) I'm still aching on Tuesday so that becomes a "resting" day, then Wednesday is my catch up on around town stuff (banking, post office, grocery run), and heck Thursday sneaks up on me and before I can swill the last of my mocha, it's Saturday.
So that's it. I know today is a Friday in October, but today is Boxing Day.
*
*
*
I also wanna change the sheets today, and have laundry to do, gotta mail some presents to my nieces, and should probably balance my checkbook.
*
*
*
Ok so three boxes for sure.
*
*
*
Oh, and hang the pictures. And those last two copper bowls, need to clean those first but yeah, hang those in the kitchen. Gotta gas up the car, too.
*
*
*
Hmmm - I also promised the most awesome boyfriend that he could have those two empty crates so I gotta clean those up a bit. And, before I start unpacking MORE boxes, I should probably move the piles of stuff that came from those other boxes that's now exploded all over the living room. So that should go into the setup room first. Two boxes. I'd be happy with two boxes.
*
*
*
Gotta go freshen up my mocha ... and then *snort* watch me go! That silly box won't know what hit it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Ask Not For Whom The Cricket Chirps ...
One of the first things my mother ever bought for me after I’d moved out from home and into my first apartment was a large brass cricket – about the size of my fist. If I wanted to relate a warm and wonderful tale, I’d perhaps write that it was a very thoughtful gift. I will, instead, recall my immediate and honest reaction – which was, if memory serves, “what the bloody hell…?” I don’t remember how long I waited before I donated it, but I don’t believe it lasted more than a month of sitting on top of a cabinet.
My mother has many wonderful qualities. The woman can grow plants by just wandering through a greenhouse. She can put aside her own pain and give her all to those that may need it. She has a wonderful eye for color. She tolerates idiocy and ridiculousness with a genuine smile on her face. I have never seen her do a crossword puzzle using anything but a pen. She has a terrific grasp of the English language and always seems to have the right words to say. She hesitates to spend more than $30 for a warm Winter sweater for herself, but never lets my sister or I walk out the door without inflicting cash on us. She’s not a browser or a shopper – she’s a buyer.
Suffice to say that she passed most of these gifts on to her first daughter. I’ve actually killed ivy, so I’m a “no” on the green thumb. I have a fairly high threshold for pain but, when I reach that limit, all bets are off. I have no sense of what colors complement each other. I cannot (and do not) suffer fools gladly. I typically glance at a crossword puzzle and, if the first few clues are too difficult, I just read the comics. I have a good in-head thesaurus but the right words seem to come HOURS after I need them. I have no problems spending money on myself, though it typically produces guilt afterwards. The one trait in that list that we seem to share is the last one. We are buyers.
Because I have a limited visualization technique when it comes to items, I tend to buy from stores. My mother uses catalogues. Pounds and pounds of catalogues. Hundreds of acres of forests would still be on this blue marble of ours if not for my mother getting every catalogue in print. So, when I was presented with this brass cricket back in 1987, I figured this was just another one of my mother’s crazy catalogue buys.
When I was in the process of moving recently, I spent each evening at my parent’s home … the same one in which I grew up or, at least, the same one from which I first moved away 20+ years ago. The creek in the back portion of their property produces some rather folksy wildlife, including frogs and crickets. The frogs are more fickle about their seasons, but the crickets tend to be out whenever there are a few warm days in a row. Hearing their gentle chirping while I drifted off to sleep after a day of packing boxes was better than any relaxation recording and, at some point, I must have commented to my mom about how nice their “songs” were. “They’re good luck, yanno?” I glanced over at her … “crickets are?” I asked, incredulously. “Yeah – if they’re inside your home, they’re considered to be good luck.”
I felt like a schmuck.
All those years ago my mother was using a symbol to offer me her support and best wishes in my new home and my only thought was “great – a giant brass insect. Terrrrrrrific. Just what every young girl wants to have in her new apartment.”
I remember this now because of the crickets in my new home. We have an agreement – these lucky insects and I. They can live in the basement and in the laundry room and chirp away happily all day and night. As long as they don’t try to surprise me by hopping up the stairs into my kitchen, they’re welcome to sing along as I go about my day. Before I head off to bed each night, I (or, more accurately, my awesome boyfriend) conduct a “cricket patrol” in which all crickets that are advancing up the stairs for a midnight visit are instead escorted (unharmed) to the door and released into the night.
Twenty years ago, my mom figured I needed all the help I could get. Two decades later, I have more good luck than I would ever hope to ask for … and I have the crickets to show for it.
*****************
(Written on October 1st at Noon but posted a week later because - again - new home, no Internet.)
My mother has many wonderful qualities. The woman can grow plants by just wandering through a greenhouse. She can put aside her own pain and give her all to those that may need it. She has a wonderful eye for color. She tolerates idiocy and ridiculousness with a genuine smile on her face. I have never seen her do a crossword puzzle using anything but a pen. She has a terrific grasp of the English language and always seems to have the right words to say. She hesitates to spend more than $30 for a warm Winter sweater for herself, but never lets my sister or I walk out the door without inflicting cash on us. She’s not a browser or a shopper – she’s a buyer.
Suffice to say that she passed most of these gifts on to her first daughter. I’ve actually killed ivy, so I’m a “no” on the green thumb. I have a fairly high threshold for pain but, when I reach that limit, all bets are off. I have no sense of what colors complement each other. I cannot (and do not) suffer fools gladly. I typically glance at a crossword puzzle and, if the first few clues are too difficult, I just read the comics. I have a good in-head thesaurus but the right words seem to come HOURS after I need them. I have no problems spending money on myself, though it typically produces guilt afterwards. The one trait in that list that we seem to share is the last one. We are buyers.
Because I have a limited visualization technique when it comes to items, I tend to buy from stores. My mother uses catalogues. Pounds and pounds of catalogues. Hundreds of acres of forests would still be on this blue marble of ours if not for my mother getting every catalogue in print. So, when I was presented with this brass cricket back in 1987, I figured this was just another one of my mother’s crazy catalogue buys.
When I was in the process of moving recently, I spent each evening at my parent’s home … the same one in which I grew up or, at least, the same one from which I first moved away 20+ years ago. The creek in the back portion of their property produces some rather folksy wildlife, including frogs and crickets. The frogs are more fickle about their seasons, but the crickets tend to be out whenever there are a few warm days in a row. Hearing their gentle chirping while I drifted off to sleep after a day of packing boxes was better than any relaxation recording and, at some point, I must have commented to my mom about how nice their “songs” were. “They’re good luck, yanno?” I glanced over at her … “crickets are?” I asked, incredulously. “Yeah – if they’re inside your home, they’re considered to be good luck.”
I felt like a schmuck.
All those years ago my mother was using a symbol to offer me her support and best wishes in my new home and my only thought was “great – a giant brass insect. Terrrrrrrific. Just what every young girl wants to have in her new apartment.”
I remember this now because of the crickets in my new home. We have an agreement – these lucky insects and I. They can live in the basement and in the laundry room and chirp away happily all day and night. As long as they don’t try to surprise me by hopping up the stairs into my kitchen, they’re welcome to sing along as I go about my day. Before I head off to bed each night, I (or, more accurately, my awesome boyfriend) conduct a “cricket patrol” in which all crickets that are advancing up the stairs for a midnight visit are instead escorted (unharmed) to the door and released into the night.
Twenty years ago, my mom figured I needed all the help I could get. Two decades later, I have more good luck than I would ever hope to ask for … and I have the crickets to show for it.
*****************
(Written on October 1st at Noon but posted a week later because - again - new home, no Internet.)
Seeing The Padded Lining
To say that I’ve been busy as of late would be a huge injustice to … well … to me. In the past – glances at watch – ummmmm carry the two … one hundred and eight hours – I have moved my entire existence. I have new neighbors, new streets, new routines, new shops, new critters (you should just see the size of the crickets around here), new everything. It’s WILD the decisions I get to make now. “I want to hang this apron here” and “look, new dishes” can be kinda exciting, in a strange way. There are the familiar touches (ie the stuff I brought with me), but overall, it’s pretty much a brand new world. And it’s a world that I’m enjoying a whole lot.
Making do with what I brought with me has turned out to be easier than I expected, but that’s mostly because of the advance work that was done prior to my arrival, and I’m very grateful for that work. Without the lanterns, my only light in the evenings would come from my PDA. Without the air mattresses, the first few days of sleep would have been not as luxurious as it was (happily the new bed has now been delivered). Without the mass amount of cleaning supplies awaiting my arrival, the past four days would have been mostly shopping instead of mostly cleaning.
Strangely, the “cleaning” part is both the most satisfying and the least gratifying. It is where one (or, at least, where I) can feel “wow – I’ve really accomplished something here today” and then, hours later, review the room as a whole and think “geez, look at all that is left to do”. Yes, lining kitchen shelves with padded shelf liner is a good thing to do, and when the job is done well, it’s easy to take a step back and feel a true sense of accomplishment. After a few hours, when it occurs to me that all I’ve done is lined the shelves and drawers, it can be disheartening. However, unlike the work I have done in homes in the past, this is my home and there’s no timeline. I’ll be finished when I’m finished. There’s no deadline and no airplane will be cutting my work short of completion. It will be done when I’m satisfied with what I’ve accomplished.
Like any home, there are also the unknown surprises (which light switch controls the lights in the laundry room? How does the fan in the kitchen work? Where does the washing machine drain out?) but each one brings an answer in time (I still have no idea about the light switch, the fan works by pulling the chain and is VERY effective, and the washing machine will drain out all over the basement floor if I don’t bend the drainage hose correctly). I am nowhere near discouraged in these discoveries – quite the opposite actually. If the light in the laundry room doesn’t work yet, it will be a good rainy-day testing process and if the washing machine hose flops out from the drainage sink and floods the floor, well then basically my attitude is “ta-da, I’ve just washed the floor!"
If all this sounds like roses and sunshine, I suppose it is. I’m not so naïve to think that there will be NO stumbling blocks in the days and weeks (and months and years) to come. But I suppose, as I take a moment to look around my new kitchen, I am just more at ease realizing I now have the best-lined kitchen shelves that I’ve ever had.
And that’s enough for today.
*****************
(Written on Sept 30 at 11am ... and posted from a coffee shop a week later because duh - new home, no Internet)
Making do with what I brought with me has turned out to be easier than I expected, but that’s mostly because of the advance work that was done prior to my arrival, and I’m very grateful for that work. Without the lanterns, my only light in the evenings would come from my PDA. Without the air mattresses, the first few days of sleep would have been not as luxurious as it was (happily the new bed has now been delivered). Without the mass amount of cleaning supplies awaiting my arrival, the past four days would have been mostly shopping instead of mostly cleaning.
Strangely, the “cleaning” part is both the most satisfying and the least gratifying. It is where one (or, at least, where I) can feel “wow – I’ve really accomplished something here today” and then, hours later, review the room as a whole and think “geez, look at all that is left to do”. Yes, lining kitchen shelves with padded shelf liner is a good thing to do, and when the job is done well, it’s easy to take a step back and feel a true sense of accomplishment. After a few hours, when it occurs to me that all I’ve done is lined the shelves and drawers, it can be disheartening. However, unlike the work I have done in homes in the past, this is my home and there’s no timeline. I’ll be finished when I’m finished. There’s no deadline and no airplane will be cutting my work short of completion. It will be done when I’m satisfied with what I’ve accomplished.
Like any home, there are also the unknown surprises (which light switch controls the lights in the laundry room? How does the fan in the kitchen work? Where does the washing machine drain out?) but each one brings an answer in time (I still have no idea about the light switch, the fan works by pulling the chain and is VERY effective, and the washing machine will drain out all over the basement floor if I don’t bend the drainage hose correctly). I am nowhere near discouraged in these discoveries – quite the opposite actually. If the light in the laundry room doesn’t work yet, it will be a good rainy-day testing process and if the washing machine hose flops out from the drainage sink and floods the floor, well then basically my attitude is “ta-da, I’ve just washed the floor!"
If all this sounds like roses and sunshine, I suppose it is. I’m not so naïve to think that there will be NO stumbling blocks in the days and weeks (and months and years) to come. But I suppose, as I take a moment to look around my new kitchen, I am just more at ease realizing I now have the best-lined kitchen shelves that I’ve ever had.
And that’s enough for today.
*****************
(Written on Sept 30 at 11am ... and posted from a coffee shop a week later because duh - new home, no Internet)
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