Friday, August 30, 2013

Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It....

Tomorrow, I am taking The Teenager and a few of her friends to Neighboring City to shop for Homecoming dresses. When I asked her what she meant when she said "a few of her friends", she shrugged and said "I dunno, like, a few", which, was ever so helpful.

Since that conversation, she has clarified somewhat with statements such as "You should probably put the third row of seats up in the car" and "I hope there will be enough dressing rooms for us all to try on dresses at the same time".

I'm starting to get a bit worried.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

I Bet Cucumber Lowers Cholesterol. Too Bad I Hate Cucumber

I've admitted to being a less than stellar gardener this summer. Due to that fact, I fully expected less than stellar results in the produce department, so, the wealth of ginormous cucumbers that I have harvested over the past few days has come as a bit of a surprise.

I have mentioned that I don't like cucumbers, right?

Anyway, Hugh will be pleased to know that his favorite creamy cucumber salad will be returning to the menu this week. However, I will require the staff at my office to take some of the vegetables off my hands because there is no way that Hugh can eat that much of his favorite creamy cucumber salad.

In addition to the cucumbers, I harvested a large number of yellow pear tomatoes, which I plan to use in my favorite mock Caprese pasta salad this weekend. I was a bit disapointed in the number of red grape tomatoes that were ready to be picked, as I enjoy them in the pasta salad as well, but; maybe they will surprise me in the next day or two.

On a sad- and somewhat frustrating- note, I noticed the three or four tiny pumpkins nestled amongst the pumpkin vine. The discovery is sad and frustrating because I was really hopeful for sugar pumpkins with which to make my Thanksgiving pies, and, at this late in the season, there is no way that the tiny pumpkins will mature before they are killed off by frost. Insert sad face, here.

Anyway, garden producing despite neglect. Alert the media. 

Changing topics, entirely; the Man-Cub's first High School football game is later today. He is technically playing on the Freshman team but has also been pulled up to play Junior Varsity, which is the team that will take the field this afternoon. He doesn't know how much he will play, but, I'm looking forward to attending the game to see.

I'm also looking forward to the long holiday weekend. The Teenager and several of her friends have requested that I take them to Neighboring City to shop for Homecoming dresses, so, that should be fun.

Hugh had hoped to pick up the pavers for our fire pit project, but, they have not come in yet, which, Hugh thinks is due to them not having actually been ordered by the business from which we had ordered, so; we may be looking for a different company and starting the entire process all over again. Insert angry face here.

If we have some time, we might try to take the boat out for one last float. Or, we might drive to a nearby town for a hike to a scenic lake. Or, we might sleep in and watch movies and catch up on scrapbooks while eating inappropriate and unhealthy snacks. We are undecided, is my point.

Speaking of unhealthy things; I got the results back from the blood draw that I had done at day job earlier this week. My results indicate high cholesterol and the marker for hypothyroidism. Yay, me!

Also, I suppose its time to schedule an appointment with my doctor. I wonder if he likes cucumber?

Monday, August 26, 2013

Every Girl Needs a Best Guy Friend

You've heard it said that guys and girls can't be just friends, right? Of course you have. You might even believe its true, but, I beg to differ; The Teenager has a best guy friend and they have managed to remain quite close and, quite platonic, since the fourth grade.

They have seen each other through some pretty rough stuff, including the death of their mutual best friend, Brandon the summer after fifth grade; I still remember the day they stood together at Brandon's funeral, united in grief and confusion.

They've been together through good times, as well. And, they've never let what other people think about them affect the way that they treat each other, not even the various boyfriends and girlfriends who have come and gone. Indeed, if one of their significant others expressed the slightest doubt about the platonic nature of their friendship, or complained about the amount of time that they spent together, they were quickly set right, or, sent packing.

I've enjoyed watching them grow up together. It's like seeing The Teenager with a second brother, and, I can't help but think of them as a unit. There's just been too much history to allow for any type of separation in my brain.

And, that's pretty cool, as far as I'm concerned.


Saturday, August 24, 2013

All Hail the Handyman

Last night, Hugh fixed my refrigerator and my oven. The tire pressure sensor on my car has been replaced and I am no longer being driven to distraction by the blinking of a warning light on my dashboard.

The Man-Cub is currently dressed out and standing on the sidelines at his first high school football scrimmage.

The Teenager has agreed to pose for yet another attempt at senior pictures, and, because I love her best friend (and his mother); I have agreed to take some pictures of him as well. So, both teenagers will be gracing me with their good looks later this evening, assuming the weather holds.

Last night, I spent four or five hours scrapbooking. I am currently only three years behind on each of the children's scrapbooks. But! Prior to last night, I was four years behind on the Man-Cub's, so, progress.

And, I have an entire weekend to work on the books. And to clean my house, which, let's be honest, has suffered from my inattention for far to long.

I also have time to harvest the garden, which, like the housework, has been sorely neglected. Truth be told, I'm slightly afraid to go in there. But! Whatever I find in the garden will have a home in the fridge, because, as I said earlier; Hugh fixed the problem.

Life is good.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Law of Three

While we were in Mayberry for Stampede, my car began to display a low tire pressure warning for the right rear tire, yet, when I checked the tire pressure with my trusty tire pressure checker thingie, it indicated a full tire. So, I ignored the warning display. As one does.

When we got back to Petticoat Junction, I took the car into the service station to have the pressure checked yet again. The techs indicated that it was fine but took the tire off to check it just to be sure. They then re-set the sensor and I was on my way.

I made it an entire block before the warning message began ominously blinking at me yet again. Needless to say; I am having the sensor replaced. Cost: $100 with parts and labor.

Then, the day before yesterday, Hugh noticed that our side-by-side was no longer producing ice. He fiddled with it for a bit, determined that he needed to order a part, and, went to bed. Yesterday, we awoke to a leaking fridge that was no longer freezing on the freezer side or cooling on the fridge side. So, Hugh tore it apart, watched a few repair videos online, determined that he needed another new part (or 3), and ordered them. They should arrive today and I hope to have a fridge again by tonight. Cost: $200 for parts; I don't even want to guess at what Hugh will charge me for labor.

While he was working on the fridge, it occurred to him that I had mentioned that the broiler in one of my ovens was no longer heating up, so; he decided to pull the oven apart to troubleshoot it as well. He determined that we need some mother board or whatever the hell constitutes the brain of the oven and off he went to order it online. Cost: $50.

I am so over appliances.

On the bright side, if celebrities always die in threes, can we assume that appliances do as well? If so, I should be set for a while, at least.

Le sigh.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The Last First Day of School

The kids started back to school, today. Officially, I mean; the Man-Cub's orientation yesterday doesn't count because, if I call that his first day of school, I can't very well have pictures of them together and call them the First Day of School pictures, now, can I?

No, I cannot.

So, for purposes of my insanity, we shall call today the first day of school for both kids.

And, also for purposes of my insanity, we will ignore the fact that it was the LAST first day of school for The Teenager.

Let us not speak of it, again.

Anyway, both kids were as excited as they could be to get back in the classroom. Ok, maybe that was me, excited to get them both back in the routine of school. I'll own it.

They are, though, truly in the swing of things, I mean. This evening, they came home with full lists of supplies that they would be needing as well as papers for me to sign, a schedule of upcoming events and requests for money for fast food at lunch.

And I missed this, why?

Anyway, things are good. The Teenager was appointed editor of the school yearbook which slightly takes the sting out of being cut from the volleyball team, and, the Man-Cub met a new girl who is, according to him, super hot, which, slightly takes the sting out of the fact that his little girlfriend dumped him for his friend over the summer.

My kids bounce back, is what I'm thinking.

They must get that from me.

Monday, August 19, 2013

The Last Hurrah of Summer 2013

After last week's disappointing volleyball fiasco, I needed something to make me feel a little less.... stabby. Luckily, I already had plans to fly to Phoenix on Thursday to see The Girls and to attend a concert, so, I was fairly confident that I would find some level of comfort. I wasn't wrong; shopping, fine dining, concert-going (Daughtry and 3 Doors Down, awesome!), and, generally just spending quality time with my friends, left me feeling a lot better.

In fact, the soothing balm of time spent amongst friends allowed me to maintain a calm and cool demeanor when Hugh called to include me in a parents' meeting with the school administration via conference call on Friday afternoon.

The meeting went as well as any of us had hoped, which is to say; the administration backed their coach, the parents disagreed, and, given the fact that its hard to prove favoritism even when everyone in attendance knows full well that it was most definitely at play; we all eventually had to agree to disagree.

Once that was accomplished, I pressed the school administration to provide an activity to help the now-volleyball-less seniors to remain engaged with school, and, when the principal and athletic director expressed bafflement at what in the world I was asking for; I demanded that the Homecoming Powderpuff football game and boys' volleyball game, each of which had been discontinued in past years due to injuries suffered by athletes, be reinstated for this year's Homecoming week.

Judging by the stammering on the other end of the line, my request was totally unexpected, but, the gentlemen each expressed a desire to accommodate me. They were, however, hesitant to agree to the games since they were concerned about the possibility of injury to their athletes. Their bafflement was complete when I suggested that the simple solution to that problem was to not allow the athletes to play, but, instead, to encourage non-athletes and kids who might not otherwise participate to do so.

That surprised them. And, when I say "surprised", I mean, they were shocked. It was like it never occurred to them that the kids in the school who don't chose to play sports might actually be worthy of being included in Homecoming activities, and, that? Pissed me off. Because, that attitude is partially responsible for the number of kids whom I see regularly in my program at work-kids who don't feel involved at school because they are routinely dismissed or excluded. And, I made a vow to myself then and there, a vow to get that Powderpuff game back and to see the line-up on each team consist of kids who wouldn't have been involved, otherwise.

I'll let you know how that goes.

Anyway, the rest of the weekend was devoted to enjoying the final days of summer before the kids return to school. As I've mentioned, I made the most of my time in Phoenix with The Girls. In addition to enjoying a fantastic concert (Brad Arnold and Chris Daughtry covering Phil Collins' hit In the Air Tonight was worth the price of admission, alone), I also got to experience my first In and Out Burger. It was really good. Not as good as Reese would have had me believe it was going to be-I believe her exact word was "orgasmic"-but, really good.

I also purchased my first Coach purse. It was 30% off the original price with an additional 50% off that. Needless to say, it was a bargain that I could not pass up (nor could Jules pass up two purses and a wallet that were calling her name from their perch on a shelf. 80% off, people!).

We also caught an afternoon showing of We're the Millers, which was hilariously funny, and, I had the best night's sleep that I have had in quite some time. It was a great trip and it is no surprise that I came home feeling 99% less stabby.

Speaking of home, Hugh and the kids were likewise engaged in activities to make them feel less stabby: boating and party-planning. Specifically, The Teenager and her friends joined her father on the boat while the Man-Cub and his friend stayed behind for a marathon session on the Xbox.

The Man-Cub did join his sister and her friends Sunday night for the last porch party of the summer. A group of about thirty kids gathered on the front lawn to toast marshmallows, make s'mores, play basketball, and to eat popcorn and cotton candy. Hugh and I enjoyed watching the kids and, I won't lie; the cotton candy was pretty damn tasty.

And, it was a sweet way to end the summer. The Man-Cub attended orientation today and his first real day of High School starts tomorrow. The Teenager has expressed wonderment over how strange it will be to drive her brother to school every day, and, to see him in the halls on occasion.

Not gonna lie; I'm in wonderment over those things, myself.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

And, Like a Fart in the Wind, This, Too, Shall Pass

The Teenager was cut from the volleyball team yesterday. She wasn't alone, three other seniors and a junior were also cut.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but, I think we all know I would be a lying if I did. Indeed, I saw the writing on the wall earlier this summer at the first scrimmage the girls participated in.

I also wish I could say that I think the decision was based on individual merit, but, I also know that would be a lie. The "coach" flat out did not like The Teenager or her friends who were cut. She basically said as much when The Teenager plead her case during that scrimmage, and, her actions at practice further solidified my opinion.

Hugh stormed the gym to speak to the "coach" five minutes after he got the call from The Teenager. He wasn't alone; the angry mother of one of the other cut seniors was seconds behind him, and, after a brief discussion with the athletic director, a meeting was hastily arranged for tomorrow morning.

I won't be attending that meeting as I will be in Phoenix with The Girls, enjoying a 3 Doors Down concert and alcohol. I'm not disappointed about missing it, either. The simple fact is, we, as parents, can bitch as hard as we like. We can point out that these girls have worked their asses off for three years for the privilege of playing on the varsity team in their senior year. We can remind the adults in attendance that each girls gave up her entire summer to attend open gyms, practices, camps, and scrimmages because they were under the impression that showing that kind of dedication to a sport they loved would be looked upon favorably. We can argue that the school's past policy has been to keep seniors on the team, because of all the points raised above.


None of those very good arguments are going to change the fact that the girls won't be playing volleyball this year.

Because, even if the school were to pressure the "coach" to change her decision; these girls will never play for that woman. She has created such a feeling of animosity in the girls; I believe they would be hard-pressed to pick up a volleyball again, just to play for fun. And, that, is this "coach's" greatest failure as a coach and as a human being, as far as I am concerned.

So. Moving forward.

My mission will be to help the girls find positive activities to fill in the time that they would have been practicing and playing. I don't know what that's going to look like just yet, but, I'll figure it out.

I'm also going to sit back and wait for Karma's inevitable bitch-slap on that woman, because, these are the things that I can do.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Tale As Old As Time

Last night, The Teenager tearfully informed me that there was a nasty rumor about her going around town. She's heartbroken and disgusted and indignant, because; she isn't guilty of what the kids are saying about her. She's also hurt that her friends would participate in spreading the rumor, despite the fact that they all know her well enough to know that the story isn't true.

I feel terrible for her. I'm also somewhat shocked that it has taken almost four years in a small school for her to be the focus of an untrue rumor; generally speaking, small schools are the breeding ground for made-up tales, told at the expense of teen aged girls, and, I would have expected her to be a victim of the phenomenon far earlier than the week before the start of her senior year.

Anyway, I did what I could to help. I hugged her and spoke soothingly of karma, and, of bravery in the face of adversity, and, of holding her head high since she knows her Truth. I also offered to bust some heads and to make some phone calls and all the usual knee-jerk reactionary things that a parent offers during this type of situation, and, to her credit, she refused each one.

I know she will come through this, and, when she does; she will have a greater appreciation for a little thing we like to call "the benefit of the doubt". Hopefully, she will be kind to friends going through the same situation and will be less quick to repeat  rumors, herself (not that I think she was a vicious gossip before this, just, a normal teenager).

In the meanwhile, I will continue to support her and to find ways to make her smile. You know, while privately casting hex spells on all who besmirch her lily-white reputation.

As one does.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Updates, the Fourth: Aches, Pains, and C25K

My C25K training is currently on hold, thanks to the unending pain in my piriformis muscle. Despite a rigorous daily stretching regime, I have not yet managed to find relief. If the stretching does not do the trick by month's end, I fully intend to schedule an appointment with my doctor. While I am at that appointment, I will also complain about my tennis elbow, my inability to lose weight despite faithfully maintaining a healthy diet, and, my growing concern that my thyroid might be on the putz.

Luckily, I already have a blood screening scheduled through the wellness program at the Day Job, so, hopefully, the thyroid fear will be laid to rest- one way, or, another-before the end of the month. Fingers crossed.

So, in a nutshell, I am falling apart. I blame my advancing age and my wild lifestyle, because; it wouldn't be fair to my parents to blame it on genetics.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Updates, the Third: Garden

I have a confession to make: I haven't spent a whole lot of time in my garden this year. I've been busy. It was hot. Then, it was rainy. Now, it's getting kind of chilly.

Clearly, I have a plethora of excuses.

Happily, and, unexpectedly, I also have a plethora of good things growing in that poor, neglected garden. I know, I can't explain it, either.

Last night, I harvested at least fifteen cucumbers, ten red beets, a handful of yellow pear tomatoes, and a handful of red grape tomatoes.

Later today, I plan to harvest a couple of pounds of green beans and a bunch of carrots. I also noticed that the banana and jalapeno peppers are ready, and, I have a couple of mature bell peppers as well.

So, while the garden didn't exactly receive the attention that it would normally, it still came through for me. Which means I am totally going to forgive it for not managing to produce even one sugar pumpkin for my Thanksgiving pies, despite allowing the pumpkin vine to grow in a meandering pathway throughout the entire garden and teasing me with a score of blossoms that should, theoretically, have turned into tiny, delicious pie pumpkins.

Thursday, August 08, 2013

Updates, the Second: Kids

Earlier this week, the kids and I went to the High School to complete their registration forms for the new year. They are a Senior and a Freshman and both seem excited about the prospect of going back to school.

The Man-Cub's first day is Monday, the 19th, while The Teenager starts a day later, on the 20th. I'm a little bummed about the split start, mainly because I always take a picture of the kids together on their first day of school and now, when I take the picture, it will kind of be like cheating. Also, with The Teenager starting college next year, it will be my last opportunity for that picture of them together (insert sad face HERE).

Speaking of The Teenager starting college, later today, she, a friend of hers, and I are leaving for the city of my Alma Mater, so the kids can tour the college in the morning. I'm looking forward to having my chance to campaign for my old school, like Hugh had last month. I'm also looking forward to seeing Jules and her family, since we will be crashing with them, tonight.

In other news of The Teenager, volleyball is still on the table. The Teenager decided that she wasn't willing to throw in the towel at this point in the game (Senior year), and, has attended every practice, camp, scrimmage, and team meeting. The "Coach" has continued to favor her "chosen six" and The Teenager has come to accept that she won't be getting much play time; she is somewhat peaceful with that fact, now. What she isn't comfortable with is the "coach's" motivational technique, wherein she harangues the girls for every mistake made by any player not included in the favored six. Conditioning is important, but, when the girls are constantly running as punishment, it gets old, fast. Oh, and the "coach's" continuing threat of cutting girls from every grade level- including Seniors-from the team for every perceived infraction is also getting old.

It might be a long season, but, The Teenager seems determined to enjoy it to the best of her ability.

While we are on the topic of sports, I should report that the Man-Cub is in full-on football mode. He practices every evening and two-a-day practices start next week. So far, he is sore but excited. I'm feeling pretty Zen about the football thing, mainly because I know he will be playing on the Freshman team and won't be in as much danger of being run over by a Senior.

On a topic related to the beginning of school, but, in no way related to sports: we are going school clothes shopping this weekend. I'm not planning on buying an entire wardrobe for each kid (the Cub is due for another growth spurt any day now and The Teenager likes to spread her clothing allowance over the school year to keep her looking fashion-forward), but, it will be an investment, for sure. I also paid all those registration fees earlier this week ($285 for our free public education), so, the money that we made at last weekend's yard sale (just under $1000 with the sale of the Man-Cub's bedroom set) has been a welcome bonus to the household budget.

And, that about covers it for news of the children (because you were just sitting on the edge of your seat, awaiting word, I'm sure).

Oh, one more thing: the Man-Cub is now taller than his sister. He has shown true restraint when it comes to teasing his sister about this fact.

No, he hasn't.

Oh, and he finished his Drivers Ed class last week, which means that, less than two months from now, he will be behind the wheel of a car. Be afraid, folks, be very afraid.

Wednesday, August 07, 2013

Updates, the First: Cats

It's been a little over a year since we brought Guinness into our home. He's come a long way from the skittish, scrawny lump of matted fur that he was when I first spied him in the cage at Petco. In fact, he has assimilated into the family like he was meant to be here, always.

He sleeps with me at night, curled up in a warm, snugly comma, perfectly fitting into the curve of my stomach. I have to be careful not to wake him when I reach for the alarm in the morning, although, when I do, he simply stretches and rolls onto his back for a tummy scratching before drifting back into a deep slumber. He is a big fan of the snooze feature, clearly.

He and Finnigan are the best of friends; they race around the house together like their tails are on fire, play aggressively with each other, and, when they are completely exhausted, they nap together, usually in a sunny spot on the rug in front of the French doors or on a windowsill, where they can catch the late summer breeze.

It goes without saying that he is a handsome boy, and, as I said, a perfect fit for the family.

Finnigan, of course, continues to be his normal, aggressive, self. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's a dog. Every time the doorbell rings, he races to the door to show his dominance of the home by hissing and growling low in his throat. If our guests ignore him, he quickly determines that they hate cats and he must, therefor, rub against them and make them love him. If, however, a guest immediately coos over what a big boy he is, how handsome, etc., and tries to make nice; he smacks at them and does everything in his power to strike fear into their hearts. Several Porch Night ladies have experienced this behavior, first hand, and; I'm not sure they will venture from the porch into the house ever again.

On the one hand, that's disconcerting. On the other, sort of hilarious.

All in all, I would say we lucked out in the cat department. We got the best of both worlds: a love bug and a cat-dog.

It's all about balance, I suppose.

Monday, August 05, 2013

Dante Had Nothing On Us

Friday evening, I jokingly posted the following statement on Facebook:

-I have discovered the eighth circle of hell. It involves having a yard sale.

By Sunday afternoon, I realized that it wasn't really a laughing matter. Also, the ninth and tenth circles of hell also involve yard sales. In short: Hell is a yard sale. Repent now! Before it is too late! On the off-chance that it is too late for you (SINNER!), let me offer the following advice about surviving your travels through The Inferno:

Friday afternoon and evening, I spent seven hours, sorting, folding, and displaying the fifty million articles of clothing that The Teenager had outgrown. Then, I experienced a rude awakening on Saturday, when, five minutes into the opening of the sale, every stitch of clothing had been picked up, pawed over, and discarded haphazardly across every table, with no regard to size, season, or condition. It was....depressing. The lesson here? Don't waste time with the folding.

Remember the story I told once about the old man at the hardware store who wanted me to hook him up with "some young gal", so she could "fulfill his needs"? Yeah, Saturday, I spent half an hour in an uncomfortable conversation with that same gentleman. The conversation once again included a plea for recommendations of a new friend for him as well as a twenty minute soliloquy about how we don't execute enough prisoners in this country. The discomfort created by that conversation paled in comparison to the discussion I had with a one-legged man who pedaled up on a bicycle and proceeded to tell me all about how he had come from Oklahoma to be with his soul mate who is, unfortunately, still married to her abusive husband despite the fact that he "loves her so much" (said through a sob as actual tears rolled down his cheeks) and is willing to do anything for her. Of course, that conversation was, according to The Teenager, nothing compared to the ten minutes that she spent cornered by an elderly lady who quizzed her relentlessly about whether or not she had accepted our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ into her bosom (she has). The lesson? People who are willing to spend five dollars on a box of empty baby food jars or ten dollars on a tote full of random wiring will probably want to indulge in some cheap talk-therapy; humor them, but, keep your cell phone handy-and your husband on speed dial-in case you need to call for back-up.

When you are planning your yard sale, be sure to check the local community calendar to ascertain that you are not competing with some big event. In the event that your sale does happen to coincide with the biggest community event of the season, don't be terribly surprised if the local news crew shows up at your house to ask if you chose the weekend of the event because you assumed that it would create more traffic for your sale. Also, don't be terribly surprised at the look of shock on the reporter's face when you refuse to appear on camera due to the fact that you are sporting "yard sale hair". The reporter doesn't believe that is a real malady but you and I know differently.

Once you have exhausted your patience with the unwashed masses pawing through your cast-offs and wish to simply pack up and take a nap, remember to place several boxes of unsold items into boxes labeled "free". Place said boxes on the road in front of your house, in a spot that allows for you to observe without being seen. Grab a snack, sit back, and watch as people who balked at paying twenty-five cents for a stuffed banana that your son won at the county fair raid the boxes in search of said banana. Lesson learned here? You might not make a lot of money on your yard sale, but, some forms of entertainment are cheap, so, take advantage.

Later, when the last empty box is broken down for recycling and the last quarter has been counted, give yourself a pat on the back. You survived the descent and made it out, alive. I mean, more than likely.

If not, I hope your eternity doesn't truly consist of back-to-back yard sales, 'cuz that would just suck.

Friday, August 02, 2013

The Eighth Circle of Hell, AKA, the Yard Sale

I just spent the last seven hours organizing crap for tomorrow's yard sale. This includes hauling bags and boxes down from each of our two attics, reconstructing the Man-Cub's bunk beds in the garage, unboxing and folding three large tables worth of outgrown clothing (as an aside: my daughter was a freaking fashion plate in her youth, I kid you not), rounding up every piece to every Lego model, Kinex model, and jigsaw puzzle under the moon, and sorting through two childhood's worth of books.

It was exhausting, and, I didn't even get it all done; I still have to price everything and to pull it all out of the garage and arrange it for display.

On the bright side, I rediscovered the princess dresses that my mom and I tirelessly sewed for The Teenager's sixth birthday party. I intend to wash and press them and to wrap them in tissue for long-term storage. Why, you ask? Funny, Hugh asked the same question. I have no sensible answer save for the one in which I whine about having spent hours sewing the damn things, and that, my friends, will have to suffice.

In other bright news, Hugh rediscovered a treasure trove of black and white photos from his Boy Scout camp counselor days; he is channeling Greg Brady in each and every photograph and I insisted that he hold on to them for that fact, alone.

I am fairly certain that we will discover even more treasures tomorrow when we delve into the boxes that have been in the garage since our move to Petticoat Junction back in 1999. Or, we will discover a plethora of items that make us shake our heads in wonder; kind of like the twenty-seven empty appliance boxes that Hugh had been storing in the attic, also since roughly 1999 (Gateway computer, anyone?), did.

It's a crap shoot, really.

Thursday, August 01, 2013

Keeping the Home Fires Burning

I have been incredibly neglectful of my home this summer, and, it shows. The garden is a mess, with lettuce that has bolted and needs to be pulled, a slew of ripe tomatoes that (finally) need to be picked, green beans ready for harvesting and, a bumper crop of weeds in need of weeding.

The preparations for our upcoming yard sale (kill me, kill me now) have left the house and the garage in a state of utter chaos and we haven't even gotten to the junk in the attic, yet (tomorrow; kill me, kill me now).

The Man-Cub's new bedroom set is nice and his room looks almost pristine when compared to the rest of the house, but, the junk that he cleaned out of his room is littering the upstairs in a manner that causes me to experience a mild panic attack each time I walk through the maze between the bags and boxes, and, yes, that particular mess will disappear with the yard sale, but, in the,

The front porch hasn't seen nearly enough Porch Night action this summer and I am facing an overwhelming task once it comes time to hose it down for our upcoming end-of-season baseball BBQ later this month.

Don't even get me started on my flowerbeds; they are mostly weed beds at this point.

It's going to be a busy weekend at Casa de Chelle, is my point.

Please send reinforcements.

And wine.