Garden and House

-Ted Drewes open a bonus day – discovered while driving home from Target, source of my second cheap thrill…

-These cool handle thingies instead of a bag:

-Clean house (okay well except for the dining room table) for the first time in months

-Didn’t have to yell at Fanny a lot today

-Uploaded my 1st video (to Facebook in this case but coming here soon)

-Making some chicken and potatoes with my own homemade pesto

That’s enough. There were a couple more but you probably don’t care that I finally washed my area rugs (again, for the 1st time in months).

I’m so thrilled I hope I can sleep tonight.


(The 2nd line, assuming you could read the 1st, says “I see nothing”)

One cool thing about getting your walls painted is that you can write on them before they get repainted (or if what you write will be hidden for 20 years, as described here).

I’m getting my bedroom ceiling drywalled and the whole room painted soon, so I’ve been getting stuff out of the room, off the walls, etc.

I also left a note to the drywall guy by writing it on the wall. I forgot how FUN it is to do that!!

It feels so “bad,” like  you ‘shouldn’t do it except you CAN, ’cause it’s YOUR house, YOUR wall and (most important) it will be repainted soon!

I also left notes for the painter about what nail holes to keep/cover, notes to the ceiling dude about patching something else, can you also attach my headboard to my bed, etc. All on the wall!

It felt so bad. It felt so good. Yet another of life’s contradictions, summed up in something I would’ve gotten in trouble for if I’d done it when I was a little kid.

I also had a flashback to trying to play with my dad’s carpenter’s pencils and not understanding what their point was. Well – duh – it was so you could write on walls!! (yeah, yeah, and all those carpenter-y things too — I know)

(says “time to paint” if you can see through the dirty lens and the dust)

I’m going to get some more painting done just so I can write notes on the walls.

I had to call the ‘animal disposal unit’ today.

Until last night, Fanny hadn’t proven to be the great hunter that Allie (the cat) had been.

Like I said though, that was until last night.

Fanny has a couple of “habits” that bug me:  she also barks at nothing (lack of intelligence being another thing that bugs me too I guess) and she licks a lot.

Example: My dad, was over here the other day and said he let her lick the back of his hand and timed it at 2 minutes. (Can’t imagine why I’m such a geek either)

Anyway, I digress.

She was barking last night and I went to get her. Well, she was outside barking at an acorn or something but there was a BIG dead rabbit on the doorway leading from the porch outside.


I got her inside but realized that she’d have to go out another coupla times before the night was over.

Usually I just leave the back door open or closed just enough so her nose can open it, but obviously I didn’t want a rabbit carcass presented on my  living room floor, so I had to firmly close the door each time I let her out and check every once in a while.

Not a problem when you’ve got a chew toy waiting for you though. Blood…mmmm

Anyway, called the ‘animal disposal unit’ when I woke up this morning today. Let’s just say there was a lot less to retrieve.

Once again it was dad and the girls who comprised “the unit.” They had me bring Fanny inside, and as I shut the door I heard dad saying, “…and that’s the liver.”

I heard one of the girls going “ewwww” (but she was looking, so she’s already a better person than I). I made the mistake of opening the back door It was almost bagged and Fanny got out again.

The dad said something like “where else are they going to learn about real life?” and I told him are you effing kidding me I had plenty of “real life” without viewing innards of a dead rabbit, thank you very much.

“Well,” he says, “they won’t get to take apart and prepare a chicken because we’re vegetarian” to which I responded, “and I won’t either because I just think they’re gross and only buy the breasts.”

Don’t try to one up me buddy, just take the dead animal, ok? Not that I’m not appreciative – far from it – but if I could stand the disgustingness wanted to learn more about real life revel in my omnivorousness I would’ve taken care of the damn thing myself.

So they cheerfully bagged it and went on their merry way, saying “Remember us at the holidays.”

Again I bit my tongue, instead of saying “the last time ‘remembered you at the holidays’ nobody ever acknowledged it, not to mention actually saying thank you.”

Between the dead rabbit and my tongue-biting there is a lot of blood around here today.

no gloves – that’s a real man

hard to believe I ever considered becoming a professional organizer…


…really hard…

I think it’s because it’s digital, but my new TV (aka the thing that makes even soap operas look appealing because it has a pretty picture. Thank god I have a job) has a delay of a few seconds compared to the old TV.

Right now I’m in the dining room, which is in between the living room (land of the pretty pictures) and the kitchen (the room I want a permanent attendant for).

I don’t want to say the kitchen TV is old, but it is a Sony Watchman (made for about 2 years), which is a mini-black and white TV with a cassette player and am/fm radio.  We are all about cutting edge here.

Anyway, there is a delay of a couple of seconds on the pretty TV. Now you might be thinking: maybe it’s that the kitchen TV is ahead and not the living room, but this idiosyncrasy didn’t manifest until the Pretty Picture TV came along. Before, the old TVs both yelled at you simultaneously.

So I’m hearing 60 Minutes on both devices but the living room one repeats the kitchen one a couple of seconds later, just enough time to throw me off-kilter (don’t go there). It’s like a recurrent echo that only repeats once. Or someone repeating himself.

You wouldn’t think that hearing the same things a couple of seconds apart would be such a big deal, but I think I have indavertently discovered a new medical condition: auditory vertigo.

–>5/31 update: She crapped like an 80 lb. lab and she weighs 16 lbs.

As you know, it’s “all dog all the time” around here. And boy, are puppies stupid ignorant of so many things I take for granted.

Today’s oh – dear – god – not – another – dog – story is about what Fanny did not eat.  She did not eat any of the following:

1 mourning dove
1 used feminine hygiene product
1 small bar soap
1 backer rod (used behind caulking)
1/2 catalog
1 pen

No, she ate those yesterday

Today seemed better – than – average until my friend D left here and I was cleaning up. There was a (now-empty) bowl of (what was) soy nuts on the table (which I’d already caught Fanny on twice today).

Just for grins I called D, who had not eaten the rest of them. I knew that before I called of course, but I had to check.

Did you know that 1/4 cup soy nuts provides 25% of your nutritional fiber?

I wonder how that translates for a 16.5  lb. dog? 400%? 500%? Do you think the house could blow up?

I’m leaving some windows open tonight so flammable gasses and noxious fumes don’t build up.

You might be anal… if you spray compressed air on your keyboard.

You might be anal…if you unseat specific keys (or know what the word ‘unseat’ means) to clean them with compressed air.

You might be anal…if you actually go get tweezers  to pull hair from the unseated key.

(Click on image for the full effect)


Then again, you might not be that anal if you have this much hair under just one key…0415092125-large

(Click on image for the full effect)

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