Oh yeah! A day off and the house to myself. My plans were simple: watch a couple episodes of Bones, laundry, run an errand, fix some gluten-free pizza for lunch, and get some editing done.
I was in the middle of my second episode of Bones when there was a BOOM! And a THUMP! And the whole house SHOOK!
Both cats came running into the office where I was now staring at a blank monitor. I looked out the office window to see if the transformer on the side street had blown, but it looked fine. Thinking it was the one on the front street, I went outside and saw two things: one, a garbage truck just sitting at the intersection, and the power line to my house hanging in the tree, across the neighbor’s camper, and in their yard.
This was a precise hit by the Universe telling me to get busy and edit. Middle Minion suggested if that were the case, then it would just be the internet that went down, but I disagree. If only the internet had gone down, I’d spend a major part of the day on the phone with them, screaming myself hoarse at their automated phone answering system and still not get anything done. Plus, I would be in no mood to edit, I’d simply kill everyone, burn the book, burn the computers and walk away.
Seriously…This is nuts.
At least it isn’t freezing cold and dark as hell, so all is not lost. Also? There’s a very good chance I’ll have power before the end of the day, instead of the end of the week, which is a good thing.
But I desperately need coffee and I have no way to make any, so I just might have to go all bohemian and head to the coffee shop. Naw, I’m still enjoying the peace and quiet of the house, even if I am a little chilled. It may be dark, but at least I don’t have to pay for a glass of water, or pack everything up just to take a pee.
Power dude came and went. Power has been restored and laundry can commence.
Oh, yippee.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Monday and Some Miscellaneous Stuff
Shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I’m REALLY looking forward to Monday. Specifically the 30th of January.
I’ll be the only one here!
Tam has to work her regular shift because only the secondary and senior high schools get the day off. She even farmed out Li’l Red to his father so I could have the luxury of a quiet house in order to get some stuff done.
Important stuff.
REALLY important stuff.
There will be editing (of course), and maybe a nap, some in depth online…“research” and some important solitaire games to play (my computer and I are deep in a Spider Solitaire grudge match). I might even attempt to do my taxes, but why waste a perfectly marvelous day off to do those?
The clean up from the storm is coming along nicely. I keep thinking we’re being rather slow about it, but then I remember this is the first weekend we’ve had AFTER the damn storm to get anything done, so I don’t feel quite so bad. I’m hoping they’ll give us one more weekend to get caught up before they start coming around with frowny faces and threatening notes.
Tam and I are going to start shopping for a fireplace insert with a cook top. We WERE going to do that this weekend, but yesterday had decent weather so we cleared brush. This morning, I discovered that the places we were going to visit are closed on Sundays. It would be nice if we could get an insert installed before the next big storm hits (which, according to one of my coworkers, is supposed to arrive around Valentine’s Day) so this unexpected halt does not fit my plans.
Speaking of coworkers, last year was horrible and it took every ounce of willpower I had to not walk off the job at least twice a week. The noise level, caused by two students and one of the paras, was damaging to both hearing and psyche and we all suffered horribly for it. It caused infighting on a massive scale that led to communication issues that would make any government department proud.
Anyway, something happened last week at work that has me pretty damn pissed days later. Friday was a tense day, with me ignoring (yes, IGNORING) two paras for the entire day. They kept asking me if I was ok and all I would say was, “Not really” and then refuse to tell them any more. Note: Do not, under ANY circumstance EVER, back me into a corner and challenge me on child rearing. They should be thankful we were at work and there were emotionally delicate children around, so I couldn’t verbally bitch slap them and tell them to get fucked. I did tattle on them to our teacher, so our next “all hands” meeting will be an interesting one, I’m sure. I’m not the only one they mistreated, so in a way that helps. At least I won’t be the only one complaining about their tactics.
The other evening, I got a phone call from my ex. He sounded horrible and for one fearful moment I thought his fiancée had broken up with him. No, he was actually ill and needed to talk to someone with diabetes training. He couldn’t get his BGL below 200, yet he hadn’t eaten much, and in fact, had thrown up for the first time in decades a few hours earlier. After instructing him to munch down a banana (yes, despite the high BGL, he needed food) and some water, I set out to see what I could do to help.
After a frantic search at three different stores, I was finally able to acquire some Ketostix and get up to his place. Sure enough, he was “passing large” so it was time to push water into him. He was too weak to do any walking, since he was also running a fever of 101. He was so out of it, he called me “Honey” and even laughed when I called him an ass (not for calling me Honey, but for being an ass about not taking care of himself). I spent quite a long time at his place, researching ketoacidosis, pushing fluids, and talking to his fiancée who was worried sick over him. She lives about an hour away and it was late, so I reassured her that I would not leave until Most Minor Minion arrived to spend the night. I would have offered to stay there, but I don’t know if she knows I’m gay, and that was something I really didn’t want to discuss with her over the phone while she was worried about her sweetie and wondering just how cozy would we get.
I was cozy with the man for 19 years. Thanks, but I’ll stick with women (specifically Tam). He’s a nice guy, but… yeah… no.
Tam’s daughter, the Hair, is still with us, which is nice. The only drawback has been males. First it was my boys, then Tam’s youngest returned, then he left and MY two returned. We’ve not had much in the way of girls’ only time. Of course, Tam and I haven’t had much time alone for a couple of months. We’re due, but we’re patient. It will come, and we will rejoice.
Have I mentioned we have cats? Lots of cats. Two in the house, and a crawlspace of feral ones under the house. I feed the “outdoor kitties” and I’ve even managed to pet a couple of them. They each get a name, one that comes to me as we visit. There’s been Callie (she’s a calico), Sam-I-Am-Siam and his daughter Sam Too (they look the same), Heather (a lovely petite gray) and Ghost (another gray). The latest to arrive has yet to share a name with me, but wow…what a HUGE cat. Very leonid in appearance, but instead of tawny, she’s almost torti in coloring. Friendly enough to pet, this newest arrival has charmed everyone around. Thankfully, the outdoor cats are not picky eaters and will happily munch down the cheap cat food I buy for them, as well as the table scraps and raw meat bits we put in the “kitty kitty.”
Monday. I’m really looking forward to it. Peace, quiet, and a chance to sort out a few things. It’s going to be a great day.
I’ll be the only one here!
Tam has to work her regular shift because only the secondary and senior high schools get the day off. She even farmed out Li’l Red to his father so I could have the luxury of a quiet house in order to get some stuff done.
Important stuff.
REALLY important stuff.
There will be editing (of course), and maybe a nap, some in depth online…“research” and some important solitaire games to play (my computer and I are deep in a Spider Solitaire grudge match). I might even attempt to do my taxes, but why waste a perfectly marvelous day off to do those?
The clean up from the storm is coming along nicely. I keep thinking we’re being rather slow about it, but then I remember this is the first weekend we’ve had AFTER the damn storm to get anything done, so I don’t feel quite so bad. I’m hoping they’ll give us one more weekend to get caught up before they start coming around with frowny faces and threatening notes.
Tam and I are going to start shopping for a fireplace insert with a cook top. We WERE going to do that this weekend, but yesterday had decent weather so we cleared brush. This morning, I discovered that the places we were going to visit are closed on Sundays. It would be nice if we could get an insert installed before the next big storm hits (which, according to one of my coworkers, is supposed to arrive around Valentine’s Day) so this unexpected halt does not fit my plans.
Speaking of coworkers, last year was horrible and it took every ounce of willpower I had to not walk off the job at least twice a week. The noise level, caused by two students and one of the paras, was damaging to both hearing and psyche and we all suffered horribly for it. It caused infighting on a massive scale that led to communication issues that would make any government department proud.
Anyway, something happened last week at work that has me pretty damn pissed days later. Friday was a tense day, with me ignoring (yes, IGNORING) two paras for the entire day. They kept asking me if I was ok and all I would say was, “Not really” and then refuse to tell them any more. Note: Do not, under ANY circumstance EVER, back me into a corner and challenge me on child rearing. They should be thankful we were at work and there were emotionally delicate children around, so I couldn’t verbally bitch slap them and tell them to get fucked. I did tattle on them to our teacher, so our next “all hands” meeting will be an interesting one, I’m sure. I’m not the only one they mistreated, so in a way that helps. At least I won’t be the only one complaining about their tactics.
The other evening, I got a phone call from my ex. He sounded horrible and for one fearful moment I thought his fiancée had broken up with him. No, he was actually ill and needed to talk to someone with diabetes training. He couldn’t get his BGL below 200, yet he hadn’t eaten much, and in fact, had thrown up for the first time in decades a few hours earlier. After instructing him to munch down a banana (yes, despite the high BGL, he needed food) and some water, I set out to see what I could do to help.
After a frantic search at three different stores, I was finally able to acquire some Ketostix and get up to his place. Sure enough, he was “passing large” so it was time to push water into him. He was too weak to do any walking, since he was also running a fever of 101. He was so out of it, he called me “Honey” and even laughed when I called him an ass (not for calling me Honey, but for being an ass about not taking care of himself). I spent quite a long time at his place, researching ketoacidosis, pushing fluids, and talking to his fiancée who was worried sick over him. She lives about an hour away and it was late, so I reassured her that I would not leave until Most Minor Minion arrived to spend the night. I would have offered to stay there, but I don’t know if she knows I’m gay, and that was something I really didn’t want to discuss with her over the phone while she was worried about her sweetie and wondering just how cozy would we get.
I was cozy with the man for 19 years. Thanks, but I’ll stick with women (specifically Tam). He’s a nice guy, but… yeah… no.
Tam’s daughter, the Hair, is still with us, which is nice. The only drawback has been males. First it was my boys, then Tam’s youngest returned, then he left and MY two returned. We’ve not had much in the way of girls’ only time. Of course, Tam and I haven’t had much time alone for a couple of months. We’re due, but we’re patient. It will come, and we will rejoice.
Have I mentioned we have cats? Lots of cats. Two in the house, and a crawlspace of feral ones under the house. I feed the “outdoor kitties” and I’ve even managed to pet a couple of them. They each get a name, one that comes to me as we visit. There’s been Callie (she’s a calico), Sam-I-Am-Siam and his daughter Sam Too (they look the same), Heather (a lovely petite gray) and Ghost (another gray). The latest to arrive has yet to share a name with me, but wow…what a HUGE cat. Very leonid in appearance, but instead of tawny, she’s almost torti in coloring. Friendly enough to pet, this newest arrival has charmed everyone around. Thankfully, the outdoor cats are not picky eaters and will happily munch down the cheap cat food I buy for them, as well as the table scraps and raw meat bits we put in the “kitty kitty.”
Monday. I’m really looking forward to it. Peace, quiet, and a chance to sort out a few things. It’s going to be a great day.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Winter Storm, 2012
The following is a diary of our recent adventure in hell. I know, it’s long. So was our ordeal.
Monday. Day one, Tam and I arrive home from the beach to very little snow and a lot of chagrin. We’d been hoping to get a couple days of late start from school. There is a threat of snow in the forecast, but we’re not paying much attention. We did, however, go grocery shopping.
Tuesday. Day two, we got some snow. Not much, but enough to have school start two hours late. We are elated. There is more snow in the forecast, but the stuff already on the ground has turned to slush and is mostly melted away. We ignored the forecast. Middle Minion and Most Minor Minion, however, decided to come over “just in case” so they wouldn’t have to drive treacherous roads. Tam and I went grocery shopping again. We came home and she fixed an amazing dinner of fried chicken, bean and ham hock soup and a salad that would make a chef weep with joy. We reveled in having family over and ate a lot of food. Then it started snowing.
Wednesday. Day three, we got the call that school was cancelled for the day and there was much rejoicing. Tam fixed hamburgers and other fine foods and we ate with pleasure. We played games. We laughed, we ate yummy things and hoped for another snow day. It was still snowing, but there was some rain. Freezing rain. Ice on everything. EVERY. THING. No one wanted to go out in that. At six that evening, we got the call that school would be closed the next day. We rejoiced, a little, because now we were cutting into summer vacation. Then things started breaking. Big things, like branches off of trees. Ice covered branches on ice covered trees.
Thursday. Day four, we lost power around six in the morning. Tam got up and informed me that we’d lost the smoke tree too. It split in half, and one of those halves was on Most Minor Minion’s car. Also, there were branches from the big tree in the yard. And? It started snowing again, covering up the thick layer of ice. Shit was getting real. We ate cold cereal for breakfast while Tam built a fire in order to cook up some bacon flambé. We mourned the loss of our ability to make real coffee. Tam offered up some instant, but the water had things in it from the fire, so it was…ungood.
I went outside with a hand saw to try and release MMM’s car. Fortunately a kind neighbor with a chainsaw came to our rescue. He helped us pull branches off power lines and cars. It was scary because big branches continued to fall. He suggested I move my car. We scrambled to clear the driveway so I could pull out. I parked on the side street and went back to work cutting wood. Not five minutes later, a huge branch broke free and landed where my car had been. There was much whooping and yee-hawing from friendly neighbor who was very glad I moved my car.
After we got things somewhat cleared up outside, I went back into the house to get warm when the phone rang. It was Spawn-in-Law. He needed a ride for an important appointment and would I be so kind? Are you kidding? I’d been cooped up for four days with those people, I would LOVE to drive through ice and snow. And fallen trees and branches and intersections with no power to the traffic lights… I took Most Minor with me for company. We both confessed we loved winter and this was kind of an adventure. We swore to keep that a secret from the rest of the group because they’d never understand.
When we got back, Tam attempted to cook potatoes over the fire. They were… some pieces were… parts were, perhaps, slightly overdone and underdone all in the same bite. I elected to eat very little. I did, however, manage to figure out how to make real percolator coffee over the fire. I was hailed as a hero and we drank the bitter brew with much relish… and cream. Wowsa. We miss stove top cooking and coffee. We got the call that afternoon that school would be cancelled the following day. We wept.
Friday. Day five… are you kidding me? Still no power? Cold cereal again, beans and hotdogs cooked over the fire. These people are starting to stink because none of us have showered since Monday or Tuesday and we’ve been eating a lot of beans. We couldn’t work on the yard because there was too much ice and tree stuff falling. The front door was unusable due to the danger, and the back yard was similarly booby-trapped, and we were the boobies. Trapped. TRAPPED. In a cold house, eating burned food. And now the guy across the street is taking a squeegee to the shrubbery in front of his house. Dear god, the whole neighborhood has gone mad. I look at my son. He’s starting to look delicious.
We were sinking into a quagmire of despair brought on by the incessant drone of generators that litter the neighborhood. People are driving by the house, taking pictures of the devastation…the devastation that is MY FUCKING YARD AND GET THE HELL OFF MY LAWN. Stop taking pictures! Sheeeee-it. Some people have no manners.
The wood is wet and it’s getting harder and harder to keep the fire going. We are resorting to burning…things. No one asks what just went up in flames. Fire must not be left untended for long or it will go out. This means there will be no going anywhere as a group until power is restored. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing or not. No one has showered in days. None of us is suitable for public.
That evening, as we wallow in self pity, I notice the street lights a block away have just come on. There was rejoicing. We were sure to get power soon. We ate burned hotdogs, burned beans, corn chips, and apple juice. We drank burned coffee. We were getting used to it by now.
Saturday. Day six, no power. It’s cold and I have to do yard work. With a handsaw, I must remove a fallen tree. I have a chain saw, but it is electric. I do not have electricity. I hate this storm.
A neighbor poked her head out her front door and said, “Wow, you sure have a mess on your hands.” She was delicious.
Another neighbor stopped by. She was carrying rose bush pruning shears. “I feel like I’ve lost my smoke tree,” she said, “I loved this tree and I loved the bouquets you picked for me when it was in bloom. How can I help you?” I just might marry that woman.
Squeegee Guy came over for another chat. He never stops talking. I’m standing in a patch of snow and my feet are freezing. I keep wishing he’d shut the hell up, but he doesn’t. He tells me he’d come over to help, but the only chain saw he has is electric. “Ain’t that a hoot?” Nice neighbor lady offered to help me bury him in the back yard.
Middle Minion calls from his place after work. There is a wind storm moving in from Alaska. High wind warnings. They think it will last two days. We’re running low on wood. Tam has pulled things from the fridge and is attempting to cook them in her cast iron skillets over the fire. It was chicken, at one time. God, I miss electricity. We reach the decision that we’re not getting a more efficient furnace with our tax refund, we’re getting a fireplace insert with a cooktop. High five. Or not. No showers for almost a week and I’d rather not touch anyone.
Sunday. Day seven…electricity? What electricity? We don’t have no stinking electricity. Still. I’m considering selling all our lamps to the folks ONE STREET OVER WHO HAVE ELECTRICITY. ONE. STREET. OVER. YES, YES I AM SHOUTING.
Most Minor Minion was back today to help with the mess in the yard. People are still driving by, slowing down to gawk. Several of them have even gone so far as to roll down their windows and say, “Wow, you sure have a mess on your hands.”
We sure have a mess on our hands…? Really? Wow, no one has said anything about a mess.
MMM suggested we put a sign up in the yard: Slowing to gawk: $2; Stopping and staring: $5; Taking pictures: $15; STATING THE FUCKING OBVIOUS: $100.
Seriously.
Called the ex. He has power and water. I begged to be allowed to go up and shower at his place. He was amenable, since he wasn’t home. Fortunately, MMM still has a key and let me in. I no longer smell like cheese. Tam showered at her mother’s house. She no longer smells like cheese. We like each other again.
We were wondering what the evening would hold when there came a knock at the door. It was the Hair and she needed a place to stay. She is between apartments and needs some accommodations for about a week. There was rejoicing. It is nice having the Hair around. Li’l Red is staying with his grandmother until the power is back on, so we are grooving on the “girls only” club.
Put another blanket up over the archway from the living room to the rest of the house in order to keep the heat in where we are. Goddamn cat thinks it’s a FABULOUS THING and insists upon going through the curtain. She leaves it slightly open, allowing a polar wind to come through and freeze the side of me that is not facing the fire. The cat is making me cranky. Crankier. I’m thinking of new and entertaining uses for duct tape.
I think I’m developing night vision. We do everything by candlelight, but I’m pretty sure I can see in the dark. I might even be able to fly.
The school called. We’re running two hours late on Monday.
We’re voting. “Who’s tired of that goddamn generator across the street?” Unanimous, we all hate it. “Who’s tired of living in the living room?” Unanimous. “Who wants to don capes and masks in order to go fight crime?” Really? No one? Sigh. No sidekicks for me.
Monday. Day eight, welcome to hell. Please secure all carry on items under the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins so they can fall out in the event of an emergency and conk you on the head. Someone will be by to make sure your restraints are nice and snug. There are no exits. You are fucked.
Watched a power company truck drive by the house. He slowed down, looked at the mess in the yard, checked out the line to the house and drove away. Tam asked where he went. I said, “Back to hell to gloat with all his buddies.”
Work was interesting. It was odd seeing light come from fixtures that didn’t flicker in the breeze, or cause my asthma to flare up. There was heat and hot water. I washed my hands. A lot. Tam says she did the same.
Checked the power company action line that is supposed to tell me when I’ll get power. They assure me they are aware of the outage in my “area” and the 450 other customers can expect it to last until Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday.
Called my martyr, I mean, mother this afternoon, because I forgot to do it this weekend, and because I haven’t been punished enough by living off of charcoal and chips for the past week. She was in a mood and felt it was necessary to share, since she is under the impression that Tam doesn’t do a good enough job of sharing the joy of crankiness. It was a swell time, where I got to defend every thing I said and having words put in my mouth. She was feeling very persecuted and wanted to be sure that the special feeling didn’t go away with a call from her daughter.
I just heard an explosion. I’m really hoping it wasn’t another transformer.
One nice thing about the power outage is that I can stand on my front porch and do some star gazing. It’s too dark to turn the telescope anywhere else.
Power company trucks have been going past the house for the past couple hours. I hate being teased. It may be time to make that bullshit stop.
Damn, just got caught applying camouflage makeup and wearing one of the ex’s old ties around my head. Looks like another behavior intervention is in my near future.
Tam took the Hair and I out to dinner tonight. Went to a real restaurant with real food. Nothing was charcoal, even though it was hot. They brought us food and we ate with forks and knives. Well, Tam and the Hair got to use their knives. Mine got taken away. See above comment on behavior intervention. At least Tam was kind enough to cut my steak for me, especially after I started out picking it up with my hands and eating it that way.
After dinner, the waitress said she’d be right back with the check and a vagina. I asked my companions if I had heard correctly. They assured me I had not. While our waitress no doubt had a vagina, she was coming back with the check and a container for leftovers. How I got vagina out of that, I’ll never know.
Tuesday. Day nine. The parade of power trucks we saw circling the neighborhood last night was a joke. Called the power company for an update. Now they say there are only 150 customers without power. That would be us and 149 of our closest friends. We are not pleased.
At least we’ll get the 50 dollar credit they’re giving out in “the unlikely event” that our power has been off for 120 consecutive hours. Yay. 50 dollars. Let’s go crazy…oh, wait, I’m already there.
We’re going out later this week to look at fireplace inserts with cooktops. We had planned on spending the money on a new heatpump, but we’ve decided this would be a wiser use of our money. I suggested we storm the castle. As usual, my idea was turned down. I have got to get me some better cronies.
I do not want to go to work today. We’re starting on time and there’s a good chance we’ll have all the kids. There’s an even better chance a few of them will be less than pleased to be there.
There is something squeaking in the living room wall. I know I’m not totally crazy because the Hair heard it too. HA! Take that, insanity, I really am hearing things!
Work was exactly as I imagined it. I need to win the lottery.
On the way home there were power company trucks working on our street. I nearly wet myself. With tears. Of joy and stuff. I went home and called the power company to ask about the 50 dollar credit. The nice lady with the lovely accent said she would send our information to the review board and we’d see the credit within the next two billing cycles if it’s approved. Whatever. It’s been 125 hours.
Tam had a good day at work. Most Minor Minion came over and played with sticks in the yard. There’s still a large pile that needs to be tended to, but I’m too tired to do it today. Plus it’s raining. I don’t want to play outside in the rain.
Mentioned the noise in the wall to Tam. She is not happy. She says we’re not going to do anything about it until the power is back on. At this rate, we may never get to it.
As we talked, I realize it has grown quiet outside. The chainsaws have stopped. The power company trucks have left. The generator across the street is silent, yet the lights we have set up to turn on when the power comes back have not come to life. I step outside, it is silent. I see a light on at Squeegee Guy’s place. On impulse, I flick on my porch light… AND IT WORKS!!! HALLELUIA WE HAVE POWER. Crank up the furnace, baby, we’re gonna make it warm all over!
I guess this means we need to see to that noise in the walls now… damn. Someone get me some wire cutters, I need to go do something up that power pole…
Monday. Day one, Tam and I arrive home from the beach to very little snow and a lot of chagrin. We’d been hoping to get a couple days of late start from school. There is a threat of snow in the forecast, but we’re not paying much attention. We did, however, go grocery shopping.
Tuesday. Day two, we got some snow. Not much, but enough to have school start two hours late. We are elated. There is more snow in the forecast, but the stuff already on the ground has turned to slush and is mostly melted away. We ignored the forecast. Middle Minion and Most Minor Minion, however, decided to come over “just in case” so they wouldn’t have to drive treacherous roads. Tam and I went grocery shopping again. We came home and she fixed an amazing dinner of fried chicken, bean and ham hock soup and a salad that would make a chef weep with joy. We reveled in having family over and ate a lot of food. Then it started snowing.
Wednesday. Day three, we got the call that school was cancelled for the day and there was much rejoicing. Tam fixed hamburgers and other fine foods and we ate with pleasure. We played games. We laughed, we ate yummy things and hoped for another snow day. It was still snowing, but there was some rain. Freezing rain. Ice on everything. EVERY. THING. No one wanted to go out in that. At six that evening, we got the call that school would be closed the next day. We rejoiced, a little, because now we were cutting into summer vacation. Then things started breaking. Big things, like branches off of trees. Ice covered branches on ice covered trees.
Thursday. Day four, we lost power around six in the morning. Tam got up and informed me that we’d lost the smoke tree too. It split in half, and one of those halves was on Most Minor Minion’s car. Also, there were branches from the big tree in the yard. And? It started snowing again, covering up the thick layer of ice. Shit was getting real. We ate cold cereal for breakfast while Tam built a fire in order to cook up some bacon flambé. We mourned the loss of our ability to make real coffee. Tam offered up some instant, but the water had things in it from the fire, so it was…ungood.
I went outside with a hand saw to try and release MMM’s car. Fortunately a kind neighbor with a chainsaw came to our rescue. He helped us pull branches off power lines and cars. It was scary because big branches continued to fall. He suggested I move my car. We scrambled to clear the driveway so I could pull out. I parked on the side street and went back to work cutting wood. Not five minutes later, a huge branch broke free and landed where my car had been. There was much whooping and yee-hawing from friendly neighbor who was very glad I moved my car.
After we got things somewhat cleared up outside, I went back into the house to get warm when the phone rang. It was Spawn-in-Law. He needed a ride for an important appointment and would I be so kind? Are you kidding? I’d been cooped up for four days with those people, I would LOVE to drive through ice and snow. And fallen trees and branches and intersections with no power to the traffic lights… I took Most Minor with me for company. We both confessed we loved winter and this was kind of an adventure. We swore to keep that a secret from the rest of the group because they’d never understand.
When we got back, Tam attempted to cook potatoes over the fire. They were… some pieces were… parts were, perhaps, slightly overdone and underdone all in the same bite. I elected to eat very little. I did, however, manage to figure out how to make real percolator coffee over the fire. I was hailed as a hero and we drank the bitter brew with much relish… and cream. Wowsa. We miss stove top cooking and coffee. We got the call that afternoon that school would be cancelled the following day. We wept.
Friday. Day five… are you kidding me? Still no power? Cold cereal again, beans and hotdogs cooked over the fire. These people are starting to stink because none of us have showered since Monday or Tuesday and we’ve been eating a lot of beans. We couldn’t work on the yard because there was too much ice and tree stuff falling. The front door was unusable due to the danger, and the back yard was similarly booby-trapped, and we were the boobies. Trapped. TRAPPED. In a cold house, eating burned food. And now the guy across the street is taking a squeegee to the shrubbery in front of his house. Dear god, the whole neighborhood has gone mad. I look at my son. He’s starting to look delicious.
We were sinking into a quagmire of despair brought on by the incessant drone of generators that litter the neighborhood. People are driving by the house, taking pictures of the devastation…the devastation that is MY FUCKING YARD AND GET THE HELL OFF MY LAWN. Stop taking pictures! Sheeeee-it. Some people have no manners.
The wood is wet and it’s getting harder and harder to keep the fire going. We are resorting to burning…things. No one asks what just went up in flames. Fire must not be left untended for long or it will go out. This means there will be no going anywhere as a group until power is restored. I’m not sure that’s a bad thing or not. No one has showered in days. None of us is suitable for public.
That evening, as we wallow in self pity, I notice the street lights a block away have just come on. There was rejoicing. We were sure to get power soon. We ate burned hotdogs, burned beans, corn chips, and apple juice. We drank burned coffee. We were getting used to it by now.
Saturday. Day six, no power. It’s cold and I have to do yard work. With a handsaw, I must remove a fallen tree. I have a chain saw, but it is electric. I do not have electricity. I hate this storm.
A neighbor poked her head out her front door and said, “Wow, you sure have a mess on your hands.” She was delicious.
Another neighbor stopped by. She was carrying rose bush pruning shears. “I feel like I’ve lost my smoke tree,” she said, “I loved this tree and I loved the bouquets you picked for me when it was in bloom. How can I help you?” I just might marry that woman.
Squeegee Guy came over for another chat. He never stops talking. I’m standing in a patch of snow and my feet are freezing. I keep wishing he’d shut the hell up, but he doesn’t. He tells me he’d come over to help, but the only chain saw he has is electric. “Ain’t that a hoot?” Nice neighbor lady offered to help me bury him in the back yard.
Middle Minion calls from his place after work. There is a wind storm moving in from Alaska. High wind warnings. They think it will last two days. We’re running low on wood. Tam has pulled things from the fridge and is attempting to cook them in her cast iron skillets over the fire. It was chicken, at one time. God, I miss electricity. We reach the decision that we’re not getting a more efficient furnace with our tax refund, we’re getting a fireplace insert with a cooktop. High five. Or not. No showers for almost a week and I’d rather not touch anyone.
Sunday. Day seven…electricity? What electricity? We don’t have no stinking electricity. Still. I’m considering selling all our lamps to the folks ONE STREET OVER WHO HAVE ELECTRICITY. ONE. STREET. OVER. YES, YES I AM SHOUTING.
Most Minor Minion was back today to help with the mess in the yard. People are still driving by, slowing down to gawk. Several of them have even gone so far as to roll down their windows and say, “Wow, you sure have a mess on your hands.”
We sure have a mess on our hands…? Really? Wow, no one has said anything about a mess.
MMM suggested we put a sign up in the yard: Slowing to gawk: $2; Stopping and staring: $5; Taking pictures: $15; STATING THE FUCKING OBVIOUS: $100.
Seriously.
Called the ex. He has power and water. I begged to be allowed to go up and shower at his place. He was amenable, since he wasn’t home. Fortunately, MMM still has a key and let me in. I no longer smell like cheese. Tam showered at her mother’s house. She no longer smells like cheese. We like each other again.
We were wondering what the evening would hold when there came a knock at the door. It was the Hair and she needed a place to stay. She is between apartments and needs some accommodations for about a week. There was rejoicing. It is nice having the Hair around. Li’l Red is staying with his grandmother until the power is back on, so we are grooving on the “girls only” club.
Put another blanket up over the archway from the living room to the rest of the house in order to keep the heat in where we are. Goddamn cat thinks it’s a FABULOUS THING and insists upon going through the curtain. She leaves it slightly open, allowing a polar wind to come through and freeze the side of me that is not facing the fire. The cat is making me cranky. Crankier. I’m thinking of new and entertaining uses for duct tape.
I think I’m developing night vision. We do everything by candlelight, but I’m pretty sure I can see in the dark. I might even be able to fly.
The school called. We’re running two hours late on Monday.
We’re voting. “Who’s tired of that goddamn generator across the street?” Unanimous, we all hate it. “Who’s tired of living in the living room?” Unanimous. “Who wants to don capes and masks in order to go fight crime?” Really? No one? Sigh. No sidekicks for me.
Monday. Day eight, welcome to hell. Please secure all carry on items under the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins so they can fall out in the event of an emergency and conk you on the head. Someone will be by to make sure your restraints are nice and snug. There are no exits. You are fucked.
Watched a power company truck drive by the house. He slowed down, looked at the mess in the yard, checked out the line to the house and drove away. Tam asked where he went. I said, “Back to hell to gloat with all his buddies.”
Work was interesting. It was odd seeing light come from fixtures that didn’t flicker in the breeze, or cause my asthma to flare up. There was heat and hot water. I washed my hands. A lot. Tam says she did the same.
Checked the power company action line that is supposed to tell me when I’ll get power. They assure me they are aware of the outage in my “area” and the 450 other customers can expect it to last until Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday.
Called my martyr, I mean, mother this afternoon, because I forgot to do it this weekend, and because I haven’t been punished enough by living off of charcoal and chips for the past week. She was in a mood and felt it was necessary to share, since she is under the impression that Tam doesn’t do a good enough job of sharing the joy of crankiness. It was a swell time, where I got to defend every thing I said and having words put in my mouth. She was feeling very persecuted and wanted to be sure that the special feeling didn’t go away with a call from her daughter.
I just heard an explosion. I’m really hoping it wasn’t another transformer.
One nice thing about the power outage is that I can stand on my front porch and do some star gazing. It’s too dark to turn the telescope anywhere else.
Power company trucks have been going past the house for the past couple hours. I hate being teased. It may be time to make that bullshit stop.
Damn, just got caught applying camouflage makeup and wearing one of the ex’s old ties around my head. Looks like another behavior intervention is in my near future.
Tam took the Hair and I out to dinner tonight. Went to a real restaurant with real food. Nothing was charcoal, even though it was hot. They brought us food and we ate with forks and knives. Well, Tam and the Hair got to use their knives. Mine got taken away. See above comment on behavior intervention. At least Tam was kind enough to cut my steak for me, especially after I started out picking it up with my hands and eating it that way.
After dinner, the waitress said she’d be right back with the check and a vagina. I asked my companions if I had heard correctly. They assured me I had not. While our waitress no doubt had a vagina, she was coming back with the check and a container for leftovers. How I got vagina out of that, I’ll never know.
Tuesday. Day nine. The parade of power trucks we saw circling the neighborhood last night was a joke. Called the power company for an update. Now they say there are only 150 customers without power. That would be us and 149 of our closest friends. We are not pleased.
At least we’ll get the 50 dollar credit they’re giving out in “the unlikely event” that our power has been off for 120 consecutive hours. Yay. 50 dollars. Let’s go crazy…oh, wait, I’m already there.
We’re going out later this week to look at fireplace inserts with cooktops. We had planned on spending the money on a new heatpump, but we’ve decided this would be a wiser use of our money. I suggested we storm the castle. As usual, my idea was turned down. I have got to get me some better cronies.
I do not want to go to work today. We’re starting on time and there’s a good chance we’ll have all the kids. There’s an even better chance a few of them will be less than pleased to be there.
There is something squeaking in the living room wall. I know I’m not totally crazy because the Hair heard it too. HA! Take that, insanity, I really am hearing things!
Work was exactly as I imagined it. I need to win the lottery.
On the way home there were power company trucks working on our street. I nearly wet myself. With tears. Of joy and stuff. I went home and called the power company to ask about the 50 dollar credit. The nice lady with the lovely accent said she would send our information to the review board and we’d see the credit within the next two billing cycles if it’s approved. Whatever. It’s been 125 hours.
Tam had a good day at work. Most Minor Minion came over and played with sticks in the yard. There’s still a large pile that needs to be tended to, but I’m too tired to do it today. Plus it’s raining. I don’t want to play outside in the rain.
Mentioned the noise in the wall to Tam. She is not happy. She says we’re not going to do anything about it until the power is back on. At this rate, we may never get to it.
As we talked, I realize it has grown quiet outside. The chainsaws have stopped. The power company trucks have left. The generator across the street is silent, yet the lights we have set up to turn on when the power comes back have not come to life. I step outside, it is silent. I see a light on at Squeegee Guy’s place. On impulse, I flick on my porch light… AND IT WORKS!!! HALLELUIA WE HAVE POWER. Crank up the furnace, baby, we’re gonna make it warm all over!
I guess this means we need to see to that noise in the walls now… damn. Someone get me some wire cutters, I need to go do something up that power pole…
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Life-Changing Discovery
December, 2011. Tam was sicker than a dog. She ended up going to the doctor, which for her is a huge deal. She hates going to the doctor. Getting her to go usually requires some kind of fast talking, a lot of pleading, and threats of a tranquilizer dart.
Anyway, the doctor wasn’t terribly helpful, which just proved my darling correct and solidified her resolve to never darken the doorstep of another physician. I was not delighted at the news, but let it slide.
The holidays came crashing through and even though I had my doubts, we managed to survive them relatively unscathed. Ok, there was a lot of scathing going on, but what else is new, right? The winter months are very hard on my love. Her depression deepens and begins sinking its claws into everyone. Hope takes the first flight out and leaves no forwarding address. That’s when despair moves in and fills every part of our lives until we’re all ready to give up. I tried to carry us through the darkness, but it all became too heavy, the air too thick with depression and I began to sink.
Somewhere, in all that craziness, Tam put two and two together and came up with an answer: “I think I may be like my mother and am allergic to gluten. I’m going to give it up and see what happens.”
Two mornings later, she announced, “I have no headache.”
“That’s nice.”
“No, you don’t understand, I do not have a crashing, crushing headache. This is the first time since I don’t know when, that I’ve not had to take aspirin the moment I woke up. I don’t itch either.”
“Not at all?”
“Well, not as bad.”
For the next week, she avoided gluten and something happened. Her depression lifted. It didn’t just lessen a little, it is gone. For years, she has suffered that debilitating disease, self medicating by whatever means necessary to get to a point where she doesn’t feel the pain. One week without gluten in her diet and she’s a whole new person.
She’s gone from taking six to eight aspirin every day, to taking four in the past four weeks. She still has aches and pains from arthritis, but it’s not quite as severe. Her color is better, and her feet aren’t quite as cold at night. They’re still cold, but they don’t give me frostbite anymore.
She’s even sleeping through the night better.
One night, her back pain was so bad, she had to take a pain pill. Unfortunately, there was gluten in the pill and she began to itch.
Another night, she had a bowl of granola for a late night snack. The next morning, her head hurt so bad, she felt like she had the mother of all hangovers. Her headache lasted all day long.
By then we knew for sure, she was intolerant of the stuff.
Seeing such amazing changes in Tam, I decided to give it a whirl myself. Mind you, it’s not easy. Gluten is in so many things, and it isn’t always plainly listed. I’m very lucky that she’s an excellent cook and is interested in unusual diets. She’s done a lot of research and has been baking gluten-free bread and biscuits for her mother for quite some time. Now she’s baking them for us as well. While they’re not quite the same as the regular breads, they are good and are an excellent substitute.
In the past two weeks, I’ve noticed a change in myself. I do not need aspirin in the morning as often. Not only that, but I no longer have the constant stomach ache that was a part of my daily life for so long, that I couldn’t remember not having it. I found the only way to make that stomach ache go away was to eat something, anything, usually toast or crackers (gluten), which would ease the discomfort for a short time, then it would start up again. I stopped feeling hungry because I didn’t know what it felt like apart from the constant pain. So, I did a lot of eating, thinking it would make me feel better, which of course, did not work for long.
When the gluten got out of my system, the stomach ache was gone too and I can finally feel actual hunger pains again. I don’t feel the pressing need to eat all the time to keep my stomach from hurting.
Nighttime was the big telling point for me. I’ve had sleep apnea for years, and have tried the CPAP machine (it’s a pain to use and when the power goes out, you can’t breathe). I tried an apnea mouth guard, which began to dislocate my jaw. Finally, I tried an herbal remedy, a spray containing belladonna and other lovely ingredients (none of them gluten). The spray worked, but I didn’t use it when we went to the beach, yet I didn’t snore like I used to.
We both feel better. We both feel like new women. We both like the changes. We still have our demons, but we feel strong enough to fight them because we’re not fighting the sickness caused by gluten. Hope has returned and kicked despair to the curb.
I think we’re on to something, and I think it’s going to be good.
Anyway, the doctor wasn’t terribly helpful, which just proved my darling correct and solidified her resolve to never darken the doorstep of another physician. I was not delighted at the news, but let it slide.
The holidays came crashing through and even though I had my doubts, we managed to survive them relatively unscathed. Ok, there was a lot of scathing going on, but what else is new, right? The winter months are very hard on my love. Her depression deepens and begins sinking its claws into everyone. Hope takes the first flight out and leaves no forwarding address. That’s when despair moves in and fills every part of our lives until we’re all ready to give up. I tried to carry us through the darkness, but it all became too heavy, the air too thick with depression and I began to sink.
Somewhere, in all that craziness, Tam put two and two together and came up with an answer: “I think I may be like my mother and am allergic to gluten. I’m going to give it up and see what happens.”
Two mornings later, she announced, “I have no headache.”
“That’s nice.”
“No, you don’t understand, I do not have a crashing, crushing headache. This is the first time since I don’t know when, that I’ve not had to take aspirin the moment I woke up. I don’t itch either.”
“Not at all?”
“Well, not as bad.”
For the next week, she avoided gluten and something happened. Her depression lifted. It didn’t just lessen a little, it is gone. For years, she has suffered that debilitating disease, self medicating by whatever means necessary to get to a point where she doesn’t feel the pain. One week without gluten in her diet and she’s a whole new person.
She’s gone from taking six to eight aspirin every day, to taking four in the past four weeks. She still has aches and pains from arthritis, but it’s not quite as severe. Her color is better, and her feet aren’t quite as cold at night. They’re still cold, but they don’t give me frostbite anymore.
She’s even sleeping through the night better.
One night, her back pain was so bad, she had to take a pain pill. Unfortunately, there was gluten in the pill and she began to itch.
Another night, she had a bowl of granola for a late night snack. The next morning, her head hurt so bad, she felt like she had the mother of all hangovers. Her headache lasted all day long.
By then we knew for sure, she was intolerant of the stuff.
Seeing such amazing changes in Tam, I decided to give it a whirl myself. Mind you, it’s not easy. Gluten is in so many things, and it isn’t always plainly listed. I’m very lucky that she’s an excellent cook and is interested in unusual diets. She’s done a lot of research and has been baking gluten-free bread and biscuits for her mother for quite some time. Now she’s baking them for us as well. While they’re not quite the same as the regular breads, they are good and are an excellent substitute.
In the past two weeks, I’ve noticed a change in myself. I do not need aspirin in the morning as often. Not only that, but I no longer have the constant stomach ache that was a part of my daily life for so long, that I couldn’t remember not having it. I found the only way to make that stomach ache go away was to eat something, anything, usually toast or crackers (gluten), which would ease the discomfort for a short time, then it would start up again. I stopped feeling hungry because I didn’t know what it felt like apart from the constant pain. So, I did a lot of eating, thinking it would make me feel better, which of course, did not work for long.
When the gluten got out of my system, the stomach ache was gone too and I can finally feel actual hunger pains again. I don’t feel the pressing need to eat all the time to keep my stomach from hurting.
Nighttime was the big telling point for me. I’ve had sleep apnea for years, and have tried the CPAP machine (it’s a pain to use and when the power goes out, you can’t breathe). I tried an apnea mouth guard, which began to dislocate my jaw. Finally, I tried an herbal remedy, a spray containing belladonna and other lovely ingredients (none of them gluten). The spray worked, but I didn’t use it when we went to the beach, yet I didn’t snore like I used to.
We both feel better. We both feel like new women. We both like the changes. We still have our demons, but we feel strong enough to fight them because we’re not fighting the sickness caused by gluten. Hope has returned and kicked despair to the curb.
I think we’re on to something, and I think it’s going to be good.
Monday, January 16, 2012
While At The Beach…
Distractions.
I was in the middle of editing my manuscript, when I was distracted by a naked woman asking if I still thought she was sexy.
(The next morning, Cole headed downstairs for breakfast.
“I hear you two will be leaving again soon,” Stella said, setting a plate of eggs and toast in front of her boss.
“Tomorrow night.”
dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd)
Oh, yeah. I do, I really, REALLY do…
Signs.
Passing a nursery readerboard, Tam snorted. “The sign says ‘dormant spray’ not DOORMAT spray. I wondered what kind of spray you’d use for doormats. Is there a doormat pest problem we don’t know about?”
“Yeah, when you have an infestation, the doormats start popping up all around the house. People start climbing in windows, crawlspaces and any opening to the house just because there is a Welcome mat in front of it. That’s how Santa started using the chimney, you know. There was a doormat on the roof.”
“Doormats can be pesky, curling up at the corners and stuff. They see you coming with a load of groceries and they freak out like a cat. ‘Ooh! Here she comes! I better get big!’ Next thing you know, you’re face down on the floor buried under a week’s worth of produce.”
“Does that sign say ‘Euripides’?” I asked.
“No, it says ‘Erad-i-pest’.”
“Ah, it must be the ancient Greek dude you need to call if you have an infestation of doormats.”
Wonders.
It snowed at the beach. I finally got to see snow-covered sand dunes and it was awesome! At first, we didn’t get much snow, only about an inch, but it was cold enough for it to stick around for a while. Later it snowed some more and we were totally jazzed. Now we’re hoping to be snowed in over the weekend so we don’t have to go back to work right away.
Later…
We ended up leaving the beach in the middle of another snow storm because we were both overcome by a wave of responsibility. As we left the snow-covered coast, we passed a vehicle that had crashed through a fence and was sitting in the middle of someone’s yard.
“Looks like they got themselves a new surprise lawn ornament.”
“I’ll bet there was a pesky ‘welcome’ doormat involved.”
“Someone should call Euripides.”
The rest of the drive home, if there was a car sitting where it shouldn’t have been, we blamed feral doormats. I put Tam on welcome mat detail so we wouldn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s yard by mistake. She did a good job, too, because we made it home safe and sound.
We’re still hoping for more snow and a late start for Tuesday.
I was in the middle of editing my manuscript, when I was distracted by a naked woman asking if I still thought she was sexy.
(The next morning, Cole headed downstairs for breakfast.
“I hear you two will be leaving again soon,” Stella said, setting a plate of eggs and toast in front of her boss.
“Tomorrow night.”
dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd)
Oh, yeah. I do, I really, REALLY do…
Signs.
Passing a nursery readerboard, Tam snorted. “The sign says ‘dormant spray’ not DOORMAT spray. I wondered what kind of spray you’d use for doormats. Is there a doormat pest problem we don’t know about?”
“Yeah, when you have an infestation, the doormats start popping up all around the house. People start climbing in windows, crawlspaces and any opening to the house just because there is a Welcome mat in front of it. That’s how Santa started using the chimney, you know. There was a doormat on the roof.”
“Doormats can be pesky, curling up at the corners and stuff. They see you coming with a load of groceries and they freak out like a cat. ‘Ooh! Here she comes! I better get big!’ Next thing you know, you’re face down on the floor buried under a week’s worth of produce.”
“Does that sign say ‘Euripides’?” I asked.
“No, it says ‘Erad-i-pest’.”
“Ah, it must be the ancient Greek dude you need to call if you have an infestation of doormats.”
Wonders.
It snowed at the beach. I finally got to see snow-covered sand dunes and it was awesome! At first, we didn’t get much snow, only about an inch, but it was cold enough for it to stick around for a while. Later it snowed some more and we were totally jazzed. Now we’re hoping to be snowed in over the weekend so we don’t have to go back to work right away.
Later…
We ended up leaving the beach in the middle of another snow storm because we were both overcome by a wave of responsibility. As we left the snow-covered coast, we passed a vehicle that had crashed through a fence and was sitting in the middle of someone’s yard.
“Looks like they got themselves a new surprise lawn ornament.”
“I’ll bet there was a pesky ‘welcome’ doormat involved.”
“Someone should call Euripides.”
The rest of the drive home, if there was a car sitting where it shouldn’t have been, we blamed feral doormats. I put Tam on welcome mat detail so we wouldn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s yard by mistake. She did a good job, too, because we made it home safe and sound.
We’re still hoping for more snow and a late start for Tuesday.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Karen and the Bone Folder
Welcome to 2012. Here, have a rant.
It started with a typical trip to the local “almost everything you’ll ever need” store: Grab a few groceries, take a tour of housewares to drool over new cookware, and then check out the craft supplies.
Why? Because I’m a glutton for punishment, and because, well… craft supplies! Hello! Paper, punches, paints, colored pencils, all the things that make me think I can actually create something good out of simple things.
I do love me some craft supplies, but I must confess that I am a purist at heart, which is why our trip to the store didn’t exactly end on a note of awesomeness.
Not. Even. Close.
My craft tools are just that, tools. They are not showpieces, they are not display items, they are tools. Which is why, when I saw the Martha “if I can’t do it better, I’ll color it pink and stick sparklies on it” Stewart craft supplies, I kind of lost my shit.
It was a paper-crafting tool made of light pink plastic with a darker pink design printed on it and embellished with little plastic “jewels” stuck to the handle. The package said it was a “bone folder.” “What?” I said in my best snarky voice, “This is NOT a ‘bone’ folder because it is not made of bone. She can call it a ‘paper folder’, or a ‘tacky plastic doo-dad folder’ but it isn’t a ‘bone’ folder. I have a ‘bone’ folder. It is made of bone, NOT plastic. It is off-white in color. Probably not politically correct, but it IS made of bone. I love it because it is smooth and has a nice feel to it. It does not need a special handle any more than it needs to be pink and sparkly.”
There is not a single sparkly thing to be found on my bone folder, unless I’ve been playing in glitter and that’s different because then EVERYTHING is sparkly and bright.
As I continued to look at the myriad of items with her name on them, I noticed they were all glammed up, as though pink and rhinestones would make it worth the extra bucks you must to pay just to have her sparkly pink crap with her name on it in your tool kit. It was bad enough when she left the kitchen and got into linens and shit, but now she’s moving into the craft section. She’s tainting everything and it’s pissing me off.
I feel that she’s trying to suck the fun out of crafting because if it isn’t glamorous, it can’t be fun. Well, I am far from glam, yet I still have fun while I’m crafting, so there!
I’ll beg the Universe to keep that bitch out of the hardware department, because if I find one hammer with sequins on it, I’ll probably hop in my Prius, hunt that insufferable wretch down and shove that glittery pink hammer up her arse.
It started with a typical trip to the local “almost everything you’ll ever need” store: Grab a few groceries, take a tour of housewares to drool over new cookware, and then check out the craft supplies.
Why? Because I’m a glutton for punishment, and because, well… craft supplies! Hello! Paper, punches, paints, colored pencils, all the things that make me think I can actually create something good out of simple things.
I do love me some craft supplies, but I must confess that I am a purist at heart, which is why our trip to the store didn’t exactly end on a note of awesomeness.
Not. Even. Close.
My craft tools are just that, tools. They are not showpieces, they are not display items, they are tools. Which is why, when I saw the Martha “if I can’t do it better, I’ll color it pink and stick sparklies on it” Stewart craft supplies, I kind of lost my shit.
It was a paper-crafting tool made of light pink plastic with a darker pink design printed on it and embellished with little plastic “jewels” stuck to the handle. The package said it was a “bone folder.” “What?” I said in my best snarky voice, “This is NOT a ‘bone’ folder because it is not made of bone. She can call it a ‘paper folder’, or a ‘tacky plastic doo-dad folder’ but it isn’t a ‘bone’ folder. I have a ‘bone’ folder. It is made of bone, NOT plastic. It is off-white in color. Probably not politically correct, but it IS made of bone. I love it because it is smooth and has a nice feel to it. It does not need a special handle any more than it needs to be pink and sparkly.”
There is not a single sparkly thing to be found on my bone folder, unless I’ve been playing in glitter and that’s different because then EVERYTHING is sparkly and bright.
As I continued to look at the myriad of items with her name on them, I noticed they were all glammed up, as though pink and rhinestones would make it worth the extra bucks you must to pay just to have her sparkly pink crap with her name on it in your tool kit. It was bad enough when she left the kitchen and got into linens and shit, but now she’s moving into the craft section. She’s tainting everything and it’s pissing me off.
I feel that she’s trying to suck the fun out of crafting because if it isn’t glamorous, it can’t be fun. Well, I am far from glam, yet I still have fun while I’m crafting, so there!
I’ll beg the Universe to keep that bitch out of the hardware department, because if I find one hammer with sequins on it, I’ll probably hop in my Prius, hunt that insufferable wretch down and shove that glittery pink hammer up her arse.
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