Things Fall Apart

I spent my morning doing what Susie cheerfully calls "stupid adult stuff" at the computer: emails, learning how to use VoiceThread for an online accounting course I signed up for, trying to figure out Blackboard (for that same course), more emails, reading accounting textbook lingo and not understanding it, MORE emails. I finally pulled myself away from the computer (but not before having a spiritual crisis about what I want to do with my life and does it really include an accounting course?).

It was a stupid adult morning, is what I'm saying.

So! Susie and I decided to go to Target and look for a shrug for her to wear over her sleeveless dress at Brian's graduation ceremony tomorrow night. We headed happily out the door, got in the car, pulled out of the parking space, and realized we were sort of listing to the left.

FLAT TIRE.

I think we diagnosed it correctly

We'd been having trouble with that particular tire for a while, so I wasn't too surprised. "I'll let Daddy deal with it when he gets home," I told Susie, because I'm good at acting helpless like that. "Let's take Theo's car instead!"

Remember? Theo and Anna are both overseas right now. We've been stuck babysitting her pickup truck and his car since September. But, hey, now we could benefit from that!

So Susie and I trooped down to the road, where Theo's car was parked, and got in. I turned the key. Nothing happened. I mean, NOTHING. I tried again. Nada. I considered trying Anna's pickup, but I was feeling jinxed by this point and didn't want her truck to catch it.

I'm logical like that.

So we went back inside and I called Larry. Because, well, helpless. I left 4 voicemail messages and then gave up. Susie and I ended up sitting around (me knitting) and listening to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, because we couldn't think of anything else fun to do and we couldn't move anyway because we were weighted down by humidity.

That is too a thing.

What I really needed

Larry finally called back and told me to call AAA and the tow truck driver showed up and I tipped him way too much just to tow my car a mile away, but I don't even care because the air conditioning has finally kicked in and I feel as though I have a whole new lease on life.

But that accounting course might still have to go...

Challenge Accepted

Remember yesterday? You know, when I crowed about finally getting around to cleaning out the junk corner (okay, ONE of the junk corners) in my bedroom? Remember this picture?

See? EMPTY

I had to drive Rachel to Civil Air Patrol last night and Larry was asleep before I got home, so I went to bed in the dark. And this morning, when I woke up? This is what I found:

Those are NOT my boxes.

Yup. We've talked about spousal sabotage before, haven't we? This may be yet another example of that. Or it could just be one more instance of Larry's sorta cute cluelessness - that's a definite possibility.

But either way, he has thrown down the gauntlet, as it were. THAT CORNER WILL BE EMPTY. I mean, unless I stumble upon a very inexpensive spinning wheel, of course...

Out With The Not-So-Old

Hey, Together Rising has put together a focused plan to help 60 immigrant children separated from their parents RIGHT NOW. If you'd like to learn more and perhaps donate, please click here. I'm a big fan of Glennon's from way back, because instead of just wringing her hands over the suffering in the world today (like, um, moi), she actually manages to do something about it. And, what's more, she makes us believe that we can do something about it, too, in the bargain.

I mean, seriously, I can't imagine anything else I could spend $25 on today that would make me feel as good as I did when I clicked on that DONATE button. Not even the chicken at Nando's...

I also feel good because I managed to tackle the junk corner of my bedroom this morning. You know, the corner between the dresser and the wall where stuff gets piled and you pretend you don't see it and after a while, you really don't? THAT corner?

Okay, maybe it's just me then.

Anyway, I pulled out all the junk (picture frames, empty baskets, and a very not-used feather duster that decided to shed all over the floor) and dusted and donated some frames and piled the rest elsewhere to deal with later. But, hey, that corner is empty!

See? Nothing there! (Just, uh, ignore
that pile on the dresser...)

And then I decided to get rid of the radio on Larry's nightstand - the one that looked really modern when I bought it for him way back in, I don't know, 2011, maybe? Our one electronic possession at that point was my iPod touch and this radio had a charging dock, so we felt REALLY tech savvy owning that thing.

Ah, memories...

No longer modern

I don't think either of us has used the radio in 3 years. I don't know why - I mean, I always used to turn on NPR in the morning when I was getting dressed or making the bed or whatever. I guess now I just look at Twitter. That's sad.

And we definitely don't use the alarm (can't remember how and we have our phones for that now). The clock isn't useful, because Larry always has books piled in front of it. So, yeah, it's a useless relic at this point. While I was at it, I removed the handset for our cordless phones, because we don't use those anymore either.

You know, I'm trying to think of one single thing that became superannuated in my parents' house while I was growing up. ONE THING. And I can't. Yet here we have treasured purchases (I'm telling you, that cordless phone with 4 - count them, FOUR - handsets was a pretty spiffy item back in 2009) becoming obsolete in under 10 years. It makes my head spin, and my kids can't understand why.

Gen Z'ers - all of them. Oh, well.

I also ended up going through my yarn stash a bit (this is the problem with storing my yarn in my bedroom - I can't clean the bedroom without getting distracted). I bagged up odds and ends to give away to the thrift store, and set aside a few (more select) skeins to pass on to knitterly friends.

Thrift store

The elite collection

Which of course makes room for MORE YARN. But don't tell that to Larry. I believe he thinks I'm cutting back when I give yarn away, when really all I'm doing is preparing to freshen my stash with some new purchases. Larry's innocence is pretty charming, right? It belongs to a simpler time, when radios with iPod docks were exciting and having a landline phone that wasn't tethered to a cord was the height of modernity.

And now I'm off to do something else useful - cook dinner maybe, or perhaps just find out what smells so bad in my kitchen. Or maybe I've done enough useful things today: cleaned out some junk, talked to a friend, helped mothers find their children...so maybe I'll just knit instead.

Gorgeous project bag made by a knitter friend,
because knitters are just so darn talented

Yup, I think I'll knit.

Teen Takeover

Okay, I'm about to tell you all about my week and Susie's birthday but first - I'm sitting here at the computer in my den and I keep smelling aftershave. No one in this house uses aftershave.

Do ghosts smell like Old Spice, by any chance? Or maybe I just have a very well-groomed intruder?

So! Susie - the baby of our family who was cute enough to lose her own arm in her dress when she was 2 - turned 13 on Friday. THIRTEEN. We feted her, as is our custom, with homemade cake (not volcano-shaped, though) and cheaply wrapped gifts. I proudly present to you the magnificent strawberry/whipped cream confection that our group effort produced:

Shout out to Rachel, who sliced those strawberries on the side paper thin.

It's a beauty, right? Here's a close-up of the top:

In case you haven't noticed, there are 2 circles of exactly 13 strawberry slices on top of that cake. Which might lead an astute reader to think, "Hmmm, is it possible that someone possessing an aerospace engineer's eye for detail was involved in this creation?" That astute reader would be correct! David flew home Wednesday night from the Texas desert, where he has been helping test rocket engines this semester, bearing gifts and his preternatural cake-decorating abilities.

It was a good weekend for this mom, is what I'm saying.

We did all the birthday things: the cake and the wrapped gifts, the Belgian waffle breakfast, plus Larry and I decided to break the bank, as it were, by taking everyone out to a real restaurant (meaning, NOT ChikFilA) to celebrate not only Susie's birthday but also Brian's imminent high school graduation and David's upcoming Big Birthday - 21.

Remember? The kid who was always trying to make things fly? He turns 21 in June and does that for real. People PAY him. Verklempt does not even begin to describe how I felt this weekend.

Where was I? Oh, yes - gifts:

Michaels has really pretty wrapping paper for only 2 bucks!

And the unwrapped version:

That IS another 5-lb bag of gummy bears. SHUT UP.

We also bought Susie a tenor ukulele last week (in case any of you were wondering at the fact that  our teenager wanted only candy and a tub of Polynesian sauce from ChikFilA for her birthday). So yes, we are now a 2-ukulele household. Not something I'd ever thought I'd write, but hey - I do try to roll with the times.

David gave her the Blue Origin merchandise. Apparently, they have a gift shop - who knew?

And, no, Susie isn't snippy with us yet. Oh, we know better than to let our guard down, but it WAS a relief to see she still recognized us as her parents when she woke up on Friday. 15-year-old Rachel obliges by more than making up for Susie's lack of attitude, though, so we're still well-grounded in  teen reality here, don't worry. She just hasn't passed the baton to Susie yet, is all.

Cynical? Moi? Nah, just beaten down. We're on teenagers numbers 5 and 6 here, with 3 still living in the house. 2 of them look at us every day with expressions of wonderment that people as old and stupid as ourselves can manage to function. I'm sure the youngest is not far behind.

We just want to survive, is all. Preferably with some modicum of self-esteem...

Baseboard Boogie

Well, here we are at 8:30 AM, rocking out to the wild strains of "Sweet Child of Mine," so that can only mean one thing, right? Yup, the handyman is here.

He's doing great, by the way, after his medical crisis of - wow - almost 2 years ago.

Over a year ago, he and Larry "finished" redoing the basement, including tearing out all the walls AND floors (because, as we all know by now, Larry never does anything halfway), insulating them (yes, the floors, too), putting up new walls, new trim, painting, installing a new floor, etc.

But of course you've never heard of a renovation project that is finished, right? There's always something left to do. In this case, it was the French doors leading outside to the patio. You see, because Larry insisted on putting 3 full inches of insulation in the walls, we wound up with doors that no longer fit. They couldn't even open properly, because - remember - Larry RAISED THE FLOOR. The handyman had to shave off a few inches from the bottom of one of the old ones so we wouldn't be trapped.

For the past year or so, we've had rags and old rugs stuffed all around the doors to keep out wind and critters, which was a lovely look, interior design-wise, but now - NOW - the new doors have been installed. And Andy came by this week to put in the final piece of flooring and the last baseboards on that wall.

An utterly riveting photo of the final baseboard

That man has installed every single baseboard in this house. Remember when I first went searching for the right ones, way back in 2012? I felt silly making a fuss back then; but, boy am I glad I picked out something I like, because now they're everywhere. I guess I didn't take Larry seriously when he threatened to tear out and insulate the entire house. I thought the den would be enough, maybe one more bedroom. I thought he'd get tired of the whole crazy project and stop. I was wrong.

They said it couldn't be done. I can  feel Larry thinking that, every time he sits down with his evening beer and gazes upon what he hath wrought. They said it couldn't be done.

How about some music to celebrate, huh?