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| The new sign I've put over our lintel, to forewarn the innocent. |
Since I've been whining about our remodel there probably is not a person in the Midwest who has not heard my lamentations. If you look for the definition of gullible you will find my picture in the image area. How could I believe the timeline and promises of the remodelers? It isn't that they are deliberate liars but they do present a timeline that most adults would understand is unrealistic. I mean honestly, nothing but nothing goes off without some complication. And we've had a number of complications.
- They measured for the cabinets incorrectly, weeks to make the proper sizes
- they measured the shower area incorrectly, same timeline as above, plus shipping
- the plumber drilled into a water line and caused a wee flood
- same plumber set a wall on fire using his torch to solder a joint
- the noise noise noise NOISE has driven me off my rocker, and into a wine bottle. I needed corks for a project and will have no problem whatsoever meeting my quota. Creepy factor was receiving spam mail advertising family interventions for an alcoholic. I would like to go to a retreat center, minus the meetings and lack of wine, that would be disappointing.
- I cannot keep pace with the sheetrock dust, and twice daily vacuuming and washing the covering cloths on the bedroom furniture is not as helpful as I'd hoped. The Army son complained his entire year in Iraq that sandstorms deposited grit in every body crevice, now I understand his gripes.
Having lived with my temperament for 4 decades, the spousal unit (again demoted to lower case, bless his heart), should have a better developed sense of self preservation. The man should be amazed that he wakes up every morning!
Our Thanksgiving guests came bearing gifts, Alaskan Amber for tsu, and truffles for moi! I went to open the chocolates to a horrifying discovery - they were half gone!!!
The ensueing exchange veered into dangerous territory.
Me- WHY did you eat MY chocolates??? This was said tersely, with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils - steam may have also been wafting from my ears!
Him - Those are
our chocolates!!
Me - The
HELL they are!! The beer was yours, the truffles are mine you FOOL. Don't eat
any more! I hissed in my most angry persona. Or I'll pour
your beer down the sink! People have separated and committed physical harm over less! He'd best be watching his p's and q's for a bit. Never. ever. get between me and
MY chocolates. The people who had Y chromosomes in my house seem to have their better judgment impaired when it comes to cocoa products. Back when my son was young he had a nose like a ferret to suss out candy and the only way to sneak a piece without sharing with him was to take it into the bathroom and lock the door. He'd stand outside pleading, "Mom - what are you doing in there, and rattle the door, "Can i come in"? NO I'd yell, I'll be out in a minute, I'm just going potty. "NO you're not, are you eating
chocolates? He had a nose better tuned to chocolates than a drug sniffing dog to his training.
I have no new pottery work to share,
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| an oldie but a favorite |
although I brought a large box of bisque ware to the art center to glaze last week, but my friend Ingrid was in her annual Thanksgiving weekend show and I bought a delicate porcelain bowl with ginkgo leaf from her. She does lovely, meticulous painted designs with a modern Nordic twist, you can view her work by going over to Facebook and checking out Ingridpottery for some wonderful ceramic eye candy.
In my inadvertent quest to destroy the good samaritan impulse in the males of the world, there is at least one guy who will huddle safely in his car in the future. The Art Center has an appalling lack of nighttime lighting in their parking lot and I did a spectacular comic splat walking to my car while carrying a huge bin and a bag of clay. This poor man waiting for his kid to finish a class exited his car to come to my aide but I was so rattled I hit the car alarm on my key fob ( because he might have been a clay thief). He stammered that he was just trying to help as he backed slowly to his car. I called after him that I had another trip to carry my tools to the car and to please just ignore me in future unless I waved for help. I could hear the click of his door lock as I shuffled back to the building. My heating pad has been my constant companion these past few days, although my back doesn't hurt as much as the loss of my dignity. I might sign up for a class that teaches older adults how to fall safely, as a volunteer crash test dummy.
Well Bless her Heart! I heard the universe whisper this to me before falling asleep last night.
Puppies are actually cute little terrorists with needle sharp teeth applied to unsuspecting ankles and hands.we are learning to anticipate his potty needs, although we have taken to calling him mr. tinkles for his indoor indiscretions. he's learning quickly and we're using less paper towel each day.CLEAN UP ON AISLE THREE!!!
