Showing posts from March, 2017

Most Emphatically NOT April Fools

I hate April Fools Day. But I have discussed that at length already, here and here and here. So we are just going to pretend it isn't happening this year.

In other positively scintillating news, I am sick with a stupid, stupid cold. It started on Wednesday, and all day I kept thinking, "It's not so bad. I'll drink orange juice. I'll kick this to the curb, no problem." By last night, though? I thought I was going to die.

Incidentally, it takes less than 48 hours for my house to fall apart around me. I can't even imagine what this place will look like when Susie and I return from our 2-week train trip. I picture the other family members wandering aimlessly through a trash-strewn house, foraging for food in a refrigerator filled with moldy leftovers. It will be like the Walking Dead, only messier.

You know what's fun about being a mom? Cleaning the bathroom when you're suffering with the cold from hell, because no one else even notices the dirt and y…

Photo Finish

I forgot to take pictures with my phone yesterday, so I have no idea what I did all day long. And now I'm wondering how we used to keep track of how our days went. Did we write notes to ourselves? Dictate events into tape recorders? Incidentally, if something ever happens to me (car accident, say) and EMT's are paging through the photos on my phone to figure out who I am, well...I don't think pictures of the gummy bear bulk bin at Wegmans are going to help them much.
Modern life is weird.
There's also a picture of the fun thing Larry did in the basement while he was tearing out walls - our very own Pinterest-y under-the-stairs storage space. If you look closely, you can see traces of the way too bright blue-green paint that we tried on the walls before deciding that, no, we didn't need the place to be THAT cheerful. Also, in the back of that cubbyhole there, you can see a bit of the insulation my husband has been intent on installing EVERYWHERE in this house.

Shopping - Not The Fun Kind

I was planning to have some finished napkin-project bags to show off here today, but that didn't happen. I spent all of Friday evening buying train tickets; I had to work at the yoga center Saturday morning, attend a fiber festival Saturday afternoon with knitting friends, and then Larry and I actually got our act together enough to GO OUT TO A MOVIE TOGETHER, just like all the other married couples do.

We walked to the movie, which was a nice idea, because it was so warm out that day and exercise and all that. Unfortunately, that meant we had to walk back, in the dark, after seeing a horror flick. Not very good planning, really.

So, yes, Larry and I managed to catch "Get Out" before it left the theaters. Now, I'm NOT a horror movie fan. But this was more old-style horror, psychological and suspense-driven, rather than people jumping out of closets wielding chainsaws or whatever it is they do in these scary films other folks watch. So I could handle it and even (gasp

Undaunted Courage, Plus Yarn

I finally managed to buy our rail passes and make the reservations for every leg of the cross-country train trip Susie and I are planning to take. People, this was hard - I was trying to coordinate 7 train schedules with people I want to see and with available Airbnb places that looked clean and axe-murderer-less. I've had six thousand tabs open on my browser for a week, trying to figure it all out. Plus there was the hassle of not being able to make any of the train reservations online - when you buy one of the rail passes, you have to call the Amtrak reservation line, figure out the magic words to get past the automated reservation clerk, and then stay on hold for half an hour just to get to talk to someone who can make the reservations for you.

A daunting task for someone ultra-distractable like myself, but it is done! Well, except for the fact that all the Airbnb's in Seattle hiked their prices by hundreds of dollars over the Easter weekend, so we are still trying to figur…

I Bought Napkins, But Not Really

Remember my finger, the one I injured by reliving my youth? It's doing fine, hardly any bruising, no obvious swelling, so I'm pretty sure I didn't break it, just jammed the knuckle. Luckily, the injury hasn't affected my doing yoga, or typing, or knitting. But it does hurt when I am scrubbing sinks or bathtubs, putting a fitted sheet on the bed, washing dishes...

I mention this for the purpose of pointing out that I may have inadvertently discovered the PERFECT injury.

Also, because my life wasn't complicated and expensive enough with all these renovations, etc., going on, we had to purchase new toilet plungers recently. Apparently the high-efficiency toilets we've installed have a differently shaped hole than the 45-year-old American Standard ones that we are used to.

I'm not sure how much more change I can handle here, actually.

Larry picked out the new toilet plungers, because I'm not THAT much of a control freak and also he hadn't even been to H…

Gimme Three Steps...

I was jogging this morning (well, walking with a few short intervals of jogging thrown in, if you need precision there) and thanking the powers that be that I spotted my neighbor's new sneakers the other day. You see, a few months ago, I bought a pair of sneakers at Costco, because I thought MAYBE I would try using them to, oh I don't know, EXERCISE in. Then I put them in my closet and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Because, hey - I do yoga. In bare feet. I do my core exercises. In bare feet. I've hiked mountains at Acadia in my Teva sandals (drives Larry crazy, but hey, it worked). I don't need sneakers to exercise.
And then I went into the city with my son the other day. We saw the Metro train pulling in to the station and decided to run for it. So there I was, feeling every one of my 53 years as I panted toward the escalator at a run (read, slow jog), while my 16-year-old son loped easily along beside me, not breaking a sweat.
It was demoralizing, to say the least…

When East Meets West

My finger still hurts. It's not broken if I can bend it normally, right? Because, really, why go to the doctor when I can just ask a bunch of perfect strangers for medical advice?

I hate going to the doctor. I am convinced I'll pick up some deadly disease (or at least a highly inconvenient one) while I am there.

Also, that picture in the previous post was of an ice pack covering my afflicted appendage. I only mention this because a friend messaged me and asked what it was. She said, and I quote, that it looked like it "...was encased in some sort of metal bullet-type case and you were ready to stab people with it."

This sort of comment makes me wonder what my friends really think of me.

In other news, our two days of winter are over. The snow is melting, which is a good thing, because then I can't foolishly injure myself by reliving my youth. So now I have to start thinking about that train trip and planning exact dates and all. There will be a couple of AirBnB s…

A Cautionary Tale

It might seem like a good idea to recapture your youth by joining your kids on the sledding hill and flying down an ice-covered slope as though you are only half your age. But you're NOT half your age, and you'll prove it by injuring yourself in stupid ways. Jamming your finger, for instance, by placing it down in a frozen footprint as your sled is going approximately 30 mph, in an ineffective (and injurious) attempt to slow down.


So I trudged back up the hill and took my tired, broken old body back to the house. The kids, however, stayed out a few more hours and came home with nary a scratch. Because they're young, unlike me.

Ice and ibuprofen are my friends right now. I don't think my finger's broken, and I am even still able to knit (oddly enough); but almost everything else I do hurts. Hurts my finger AND my pride, actually.

So, what else? We (well, our handyman, actually) applied the first coat of paint in the basement, and OMG it's bright. It looks do…

Paint Colors? What Paint Colors?

In a highly unnatural state of organizing fervor a few weeks ago, I deleted a slew of emails from my inbox in one fell swoop. There, I thought, I didn't need any of those. I'm a normal person now, a person without 10,000 emails sitting in her inbox.

Only I did need at least one of those messages. Remember upnitestx, the lucky reader who won a copy of the Yarn Harlot's Knitting Rules? Remember how I pestered her for a week or two to please email me her address so I could send her prize to her? And, being an obliging sort of soul who wanted to read the book she had won, she did as I asked.

Wouldn't it have been nice if I had sent that book right away? Because then I wouldn't be in the embarrassing position I am in right now, which is that of begging her once again to email me her address.

So upnitestx, if you're even still reading this blog, please resend me that address so I can mail you the book. And I promise I won't delete it again.

David is visiting this…

First Rule Of Paint Club

You know why it's Thursday and I haven't posted in 3 days? Because I do NOT want to talk about paint. AT ALL.

Our handyman kept showing up earlier and earlier all week. It was as if he was testing me, seeing when I would break. But hey, I was raised on stories of Anne Frank hiding from the Nazis - I don't break so easy. I kept on getting up earlier and earlier to unlock the door. HE'S NOT GOING TO BEAT ME.

Larry has been away all week, which is normally sort of relaxing: I don't sweat dinner as much (not that I do normally, come to think of it), I go to bed when I want without worrying about waking him up, I've got yarn strewn all over the bed (that is SO normal, shut up). It's like a mini-vacation, although for the life of me, I don't know why.

But David is coming home from college tonight, we've had a variety of dental appointments this week for the kids, Brian and Rachel have needed close to a zillion rides, and every client I have (well, 2, but …

A Lighter Shade Of Teal

Okay, I might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but I sense that the person who sent me an email the other day may not really have read my blog. She wrote (and I quote):

From what I can tell, you are a trusted expert in the camping, climbing & hiking industry and the 1000s of brands/retailers on Hubba will want to connect and work with you.

Really, do ANY of the posts at this link scream "trusted expert" to you? Or do they say, hey, maybe this particular blogger should never be allowed into the wilderness alone?

You know where else I shouldn't be allowed alone? A paint store, that's where. In the continuing saga of Larry Renovates the Basement, I am expected to find a paint color that will make everyone happy. This is getting as bad as when we did our cheap-o kitchen renovation - remember? With all the paint stripes on the walls and our neighbors coming in and voting and our handyman pretty much picking the color for us?

Good times, people. Good times...

Still, t…

Mystery Shopper

Look to the right, there. I found this receipt in an otherwise-empty bag in my room. I am puzzled, because - to the best of my knowledge - I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO THIS YARN SHOP. I don't even LIVE in Pennsylvania. Does this mean that, unbeknownst to myself, I've been frequenting yarn stores two states away and buying things there? Could that possibly explain how all this yarn ended up in my bedroom?

Actually, that might be a good excuse to give to Larry...or maybe HE's buying yarn now? What's going on here, anyway?

Susie has been sick since Tuesday. Same thing every day, no better, no worse: "weird" headache, sore throat, cough. It feels like Groundhog Day. I've watched more TV in the past week than I've watched in a year.

Turns out Susie really likes The Dick Van Dyke Show. That kid has good taste, right?

Last night Brian and Rachel semi-willingly watched The Front with Larry and I. One of those rare movies that Woody Allen stars in but didn't writ…

The 1980s Really Did Rock

Me? Just sitting here at the computer, Susie curled up behind me in the armchair in the den, coughing and languishing, both of us being regaled by the sound of "I Love Rock and Roll" wafting up from the basement. Before that, it was "I'll Stop the World and Melt With You."

Yes, our handyman and his radio are still here. The past two days, he has been joined by 2 very nice gentlemen from a local plumbing company, who are only too glad to earn lots of money moving all our pipes in the laundry room so that we can have the washer/dryer on a different wall. But, hey, we got a good deal on the new utility room sink, so there's that.

But the reason I REALLY like the plumbers?  At one point yesterday, they were running the water in the kitchen sink, waiting for it to get hot. Waiting...and waiting...and waiting...until finally one of them turned to me and said, "What is UP with this thing?" When I told him our water heater woes, he said, "You have to…

Flu And Flue

Susie's sick, for like the 3rd time in 4 weeks, to the point where I couldn't even take her to the doctor now if I wanted to, because I can't remember what happened when and I don't want to look negligent. But it does look as though this one she has now might be the flu. Let me not dwell too long on the fact that this is the FIRST year I managed to get Susie a flu shot, okay?

Anyhow, this afternoon, I took to my bed, because my head felt weird and my arms were heavy and I thought I was coming down with it, also. I lay there for about an hour, composing in my head the farewell blog post I would dictate to my husband once he got home, and then I got back up, because I wasn't sick enough to stay lying down.

I can't even do the flu right.

So I am feeling meh, but not awful, which is a good thing, because Larry is demanding I go to Home Depot tonight to pick out a utility room sink because the plumbers are coming tomorrow to reroute pipes and move our washer and dr…