Showing posts from September, 2015

I Can't Even Pronounce "Joaquin"

We're all hunkering down here for a hurricane, which means massive lines at the supermarket with people buying water and toilet paper and what-all.  The storm is probably still 2 or 3 days away, and I'll bet the stores are already out of D batteries.  Me, I'm buying chocolate. And beer, for Larry.  We like to witness the end of the world in comfort.

But that's not why I am here tonight.  I am here to announce that Larry has recently achieved a goal he has been working towards for almost 3 years now - he has managed to tear out the walls and put in insulation in EVERY ROOM of the top 2 floors of our townhouse. I'm very proud of him.  And of me, for not divorcing him during this process.

Believe me, there were times that was a definite possibility...

So now Larry and I sit around the living room in the evening and say things like "Hey, it's getting chilly out. Let's close all the windows and see how well the house maintains temperature until morning!&quo…

Born To Spell

Still avoiding the Internet (well, mostly) here and trying to be an adult.  It's not much fun, but the house does seem to stay a lot better organized when I do this.  As in, everyone can find their shoes, the refrigerator isn't a total mess, and cleaning up for our Thursday morning world history class isn't a total nightmare...

Around here, that's progress.

Exciting news is that I might have a real job (vacation! personal days! benefits!) in the editing field, come January.  What with the kids all doing that growing-up thing and all, I really need something else useful to do in my life (because cleaning out the refrigerator and nagging the kids to clean their rooms just isn't as fulfilling as it sounds). Also, money is nice.  So, if you all could just keep your fingers crossed for me for the next, oh, 3 months, that would be helpful.

And if I could manage to keep from spending as though I actually have the job already, that would be helpful, too.  Meaning, no matte…

Runaway Fantasies

You haven't heard from me in over a week, because I've been trying to be a responsible adult and stay off the darn Internet long enough to get all my stuff done.  That means cleaning house, feeding people, driving people, trying to exercise, and...well, I guess that's it.  That, and writing a zillion checks and signing gazillion forms because it is the beginning of the school year and apparently my kids want to do things. Also, I've been having to dodge the eye rolling and the bored looks and the exasperated sighs emanating at an alarming rate from my newly minted 13-year-old. That'll keep a person busy.

I WAS on the Internet long enough to feed my obsession with cute camping trailers, however. I don't know why I am fascinated by them, but maybe it's because my husband (and our budget) makes me vacation in the "great" outdoors for 2 weeks every year.  Or maybe because I fantasize about running away from home and I would need a place to sleep if I …


It has come to this.  As I sit here, my girls are semi-enthusiastically cleaning their rooms.  Why? I'll tell you why. In a fit of desperation, I told them I would PAY them anywhere from a nickel to a quarter for each object they gave away or threw out.

You read that correctly. I am paying them to throw things out. I don't think I can sink any lower in the parenting game at this point.

It's not as if I don't know how to get kids to clean their rooms.  I'm a Flylady devotee, you know, and I've spent years marching into their room with a timer once a week, cheering them on to just do 15 minutes. Recently, I followed the advice from some Facebook post I found that swore all we would need is 10 minutes to make their room liveable.

In other words, I know all the tricks and I've been using them for over 20 years.

But lately, no matter how I approach tidying up, the girls will be flailing all over the room like dying fish on a beach, acting as though they had ne…

Ah, Wilderness!

So, I left for vacation determined to finish up all my current knitting projects so I would be free to start new ones when I got home.

That didn't happen. Where does a dream go when it dies, anyway?

We're back from 10 days of camping in the Maine wilderness (well, if the definition of wilderness includes a campground with ice cream cones every night, pastries in the morning, and bathrooms to die for), and I wish I had paid someone, anyone, to come to my house and take ALL THE CRAP out of it before we returned.  Because, really, we had all the clothes and stuff we needed while we were camping, so what are all these extra things still doing here, anyway?

Says the woman who dragged a neighbor's discarded bookcase and large wicker basket in from the curb this afternoon...

Anyway, the trip - it was marvelous. I mean, mostly marvelous. You know how personal injury lawyers chase ambulances? Well, divorce lawyers couldn't do better than to hang around family campgrounds and ha…