Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Oh Silent Night....

Today's topic snoring-
I think we have all been exposed to someone attempting to suck the ceiling down from the support beams while in a restless slumber.  I also think it is also safe to say it is a miserable existence during the midnight hour for the "victim" of this unconscious crime.

Which brings me to my story...
Over the weekend I had prepared the "best sleeping" arrangements possible as I see it.  I washed all  of the blankets so they were all April Fresh compliments of Downey.  The room was chilled to perfection.  I grabbed my body pillow and wrapped around it.  I placed the "it will have to do" feather pillow under my head  *SEE Pillow  for further details on how my NEW PILLOW will never be anything but second rate- a special "thank you and shout out to the CRIMINAL"

The night started off grand.. silent and so cozy.   I drifted off in a peaceful slumber...

*cranks chainsaw here*... YEP- it appears at some point a lumberjack entered the room and he was busy at work sawing the trees down.   I laid there and took it for a while with great patience- as the minutes ticked away.. I began to sigh loudly.  No response.  I flipped harshly back and forth attempting to hide my ears in the second rate pillow.  No good.   I jerked the covers in hopes it would jar the perpetrator.  Nothing.  I hit the bed with my "little hobbit hands" as the husband LOVINGLY calls them, ahem on the bed.  No dice.  I knew my mind was going to a dangerous, dark place as I cocked back my leg and prepared to kick the plum stew out of him.  Something stopped me... call it a "feeling" but I sat up and then it hit me.
Could it be?  NO WAY-  HOW ON EARTH IS THAT POSSIBLE?   It was the blankty, blank 10 pound dog sucking all the oxygen out of the room.  That is the only explanation- you know, LACK of oxygen- because I was about to become  the judge and jury on the big guy and send down the punishment.  He was innocent.

Good news tho, I got over my guilt quickly enough.. HOW DARE HIM BE ABLE TO SLEEP THROUGH THIS NIGHTMARE!

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Retraction

So if you are a regular reader you know about our latest issue of springing a leak... that then turned into a gully washer.  When I left you last the husband was contemplating the best course of action to take because the main water line breaks out into a T into the lower bathroom and blah blah blah blah it will require cutting a hole in the ceiling. He needed to compile his list in his head for the NO WAY AROUND IT, home improvement store trip.   I knew his patience were running thin so I excused myself to the upper level to prepare for bed minus the use of running water.  

Lapse time- approximately 2 hours or so...

Atticus was a sleep at my feet and I was reading a book.  All of a sudden I hear SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH- Atticus jumps up and barks.  YES- he was cutting a hole in the ceiling.  He gave in- and proceeded to cut.

Lapse Time- 7:00AM


He gets up- and heads to the Depot.  I then see the actual hole he has cut and it is quite small.. very small.. So innocently I ask "WILL your hand fit in that?- I don't think my hand will fit in that"
Clearly- I was not helping by the look of disgust that was flashed my way.  He explained he had decided to keep the hole a modest size so he could then put a light fixture there...
I freely admit that was a pretty good idea- but you have to be able to work on the pipe- hence the hole there to begin with..

Time lapse- 1 hour

The hole is now bigger- and the pipe has been cut and the new one is being measured to fit in its place.  Too Long- cut some more.
He then places his smart mouth wife on the other side of the ladder to hold the old pipe that is pressing on the new pipe and WA-LA-  Teamwork makes the dream work.

He got it!  I am proud of my "Plunger".  He did not give up and he figured it out.  For the most part he kept his cool and he requested that I do something for him in return- He wanted a retraction on my blog.

So here goes-

Dear People that read my nonsense,
I would like to report that my husband is now an efficient plumber or plunger depending on if you are five or not.  He saved our family a large amount of money by not giving up.  He did not get mad at my sassy mouth- very much...   He once again proved that he can fix anything given time.
The groveling wife


THERE!

Monday, January 21, 2013

When It Rains... It Pours!

Murphy's law- Anything that can go wrong will go wrong!

Welcome to my world.  Life is usually one gigantic debacle after another around here- So to keep from sitting in a corner and banging my head- I must laugh!  Today is a perfect example - allow me to share:

The kids were out of school for MLK and the sun was shining. I took them to grab a bite and tootle around town.  We were only gone for a few hours.  The husband was off work and had made it back home from taking his dad to the doctor.  He brought home a 4 pack of yummy cupcakes and then joined the children outside to play basketball.  I thought I would take the time, while it was quiet and clip a few coupons and search the ads.
 Fast forward 15 minutes
The husband comes into the den and looks a bit pale.  He said "come down here and look at this"- so I figure it is worth a looksy and follow suit.  He points out a puddle on the floor and traces the source.  Our main water line!  Oh GOODY!  We have three sources to call- NO ONE CAN COME or they want to stick it to us for holiday pay.  Of course they do.
He turns off the water to the house and I express to the children my concern over how filthy they have become playing outside.  Tonight there will be no shower. Tomorrow is school.  Crap- bottle water bath it is!

I figured we were done until the sun comes up tomorrow so I came back upstairs and started my coupon list again.  Do you see my error there?  I left the husband alone with a plumbing issue that would require him to pull out power tools- and I knew darn good and well- he would NOT be able to resist!  I feel I am 50% accountable for the remainder of this story...

I hear the drill... I ignore the drill.

I continue to hear the drill- I walk downstairs.. "Watcha doin?"... his response- "I figure a plumber will have to make this hole bigger so I am saving on labor"... mmhmmmm

I go back up to continue my clipping-  10 minutes later the door that leads to the basement flings open wildly and it is our five year old- he screams "IT IS RAINING DOWNSTAIRS, Daddy was trying to be a PLUNGER" and then I hear it-  the roar of water hitting the floor.

Now- I could say I was calm when walked to the bathroom and grabbed towels.. but what really happened is I was cussing like a sailor in my head and running like a rabid animal to retrieve any fabric that might soak up water!

When I hit the bottom of the steps and saw my soaking wet husband- I froze.  His comment "I brought you cupcakes"...

to be continued... after he makes on average TWO trips to the home improvement store ;)

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Oh It's a Chore...

Some days it seems the list of chores to do around the house are endless, even though I do something around here every single day.  I have set a personal goal to attempt to do a load of laundry every afternoon or I will be stuck listening to the annoying chime of the dryer as it taunts me for several hours the next day.  I have even put a load in at bedtime and GOT UP to move the load to the dryer before I actually fell asleep so I would not have to rewash the following morning.  It is a losing battle.  It will never end.  I must find a way to come to terms with this... hmmm  That said, it is not the worse chore on the list-  I do not mind wiping the dog slobber off the lower windows.  I rather enjoy the swiffer when paired with the ipod.  BUT-

My nemesis is the dish washer.  I do not like the dishwasher.   I get that it is a modern marvel.  I remember my grandmother living most of her entire life without one. She would stand at the sink washing a pile of dishes from the meal she lovingly cooked.  It is a convenience, I get it but I still don't have to like it.  Let me confess how I handle this chore.   It is a NINE step process...

  • Step one- open the front
  • Step two- peak around the top shelf to assure items are not funked over
  • Step three- select certain cups, shake excess water off and stack them on the counter
  • Step four- push the said cups in the cabinet and implement the duck and dodge method to keep existing cups in the cupboard from knocking me in the head.
  • Step five- feeling lucky, made it without any breakage or bumps- *takes a sip of coffee in satisfaction of this accomplishment
  • Step six - pull out the dreaded bottom rack
  • Step seven- pick out a few forks and spoons- leave the remaining in the rack because well, I don't have a good answer
  • Step eight- pull out the extra large pan and walk around the kitchen holding it- open most cabinets to find that sucker will not fit... 
  • Step nine- take pan back to dishwasher and put it back where I found it.

The end- and do not act like I am the only one with this process... ahem :)

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

No... It's A Knot



Exhibit A


Years ago, when the spouse and I were house hunting we toured too many houses to count.  Nothing worked for us.  I could pick them apart at the seams and I was starting to get discouraged. Then it happened, we walked into "our home".  It spoke to both of us *NO- Not our ghost, they are mute*.  I was able to see "what could be" even though it was drowning in an ocean of mauve and blue.  There were mockingbirds on wallpaper that were "mocking" me.  However, I could see past it and wait for the day we could update her style with one exception... WHITE CARPET!  Who does that?  This is not some converted warehouse loft in an artsy, fartsy city.  It is a home that would be the center of our family.  It would have children and animals running across them carrying leaky, sippy cups.  White Carpet + Small Children = Disaster!  

Fast Forward a few years and attempt to get to the point of this post-

 Hello renovation-  Ok- I have eclectic taste-  I like the old with the new.  That said, putting 100 year old brick pavers that were salvaged from buildings on the floor seemed NORMAL even COOL!  I was right- see exhibit A.  Neat, huh?   Anywho, I have enjoyed these floors.  NO fuss, No muss.  A wet mop and that is it!  Don't cha love - low maintenance?  However, today I am looking at them a little differently.  Walker needs new shoes and he wants some that actually tie.  He does not want velcro.  I like velcro.  Are you with me?  Let me break that down for you- He wants shoes that tie, hence he will need to learn to tie his shoes.  (SIGH)  Have you ever tried to teach a child to tie their shoes?  OH lawd- I have to pull out all the stops and make up the story about the little bunny- that will NOT cooperate with little fingers as it runs around the bush.  BLAH BLAH BLAH!   It is an exhausting exercise!   It will last for what seems FOREVER!  He will get mad and aggravated.  I will get impatient.  I will BANG MY HEAD ON THE LOW MAINTENANCE BRICKS!  They were not around when Mackenzie learned this task-  I had to settle for the wall.  
What is my point?  I fear my COOLNESS is going to kill me!

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Stop and Smell the Proverbial Roses

A friend of mine recently blogged about life's simple pleasures.  For her, it was a pretty little soap dispenser that got rid of the muck from bar soap.  I agree- some of the best things life has to offer are right in front of us- but we tend to overlook them while caught up in the day to day chores. We don't appreciate simplicity like we should.  It reminded me of an old post-  One that is as true today, as it was when I originally stuck it out on the internet for everyone to critique.
Today's topic- Books
I love to read.  I always have.  Most of my reading is done at night when my children are snuggled up and in a peaceful slumber.  I have attempted to read on rainy afternoons, but lets face it- when you read the same sentence three times and still do not know what you read, it loses some of its magic.   So I read at night by a  tiny book lamp that attaches to the top of the pages.  I have looked into the fancy new options but there is something wonderful about page turning.  It is what the author originally intended (or this is what I believe) to have the suspense build as the paper turns.  Old fashioned thinking... probably?  A few weeks ago, I stumbled into a used paperback store.  The musty smell was wonderful and identifiable, it was the smell of old books.  You know the smell.  Some may find it distasteful... I like it!   As I strolled the endless selection, I realized I am not one that reads a book more than once.  There are a few exceptions like Twilight (hello- EDWARD) and the Hunger Games Trilogy  ( if you have not enjoyed this syfy edge of your seater- please allow yourself the guilty pleasure of these books) and of course the classics like To Kill A Mockingbird.  Other than the few listed above... I don't reread. So to continue on with my old books admiration trip-  I ended up in the horror/ syfy genre and I picked up Salem's Lot.  Now I read this book years ago... and I remember it stuck with me.  CREEPY-  but a little creepy factor is good now and again.  I took it to the counter and paid my two bucks.
The book laid around on the counter for a while.. I decided a few nights ago, I would give it another whirl.  So I started reading and as I flipped the first few pages I could not help but think..Why are you reading this again?  You know how it ends... what is the point?  As I got more involved in the book, I realized, the amazing author Stephen King... did not mean for his books to be read only once... they are full of details that can easily be overlooked ....and in each detail the author struggled over it to get it right.  It is in the details that take you from your sorrows or stressful lives and emerge you in a place forbidden.  It doesn't matter what type of "read" you prefer... romance, comedy, thrillers... a mix of all three- you escape to a mini vacation.  Let's face it- we all need a mini escape from time to time.  So I encourage you to pick up a book... perhaps one you have read before that is laying in the bottom of a drawer... and enjoy it.  Life is short.. simple pleasures are all around us.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Do you hear what I hear?

So I thought about starting this one with the classic "Once upon a time".  That in my opinion is reserved for fairy tales - this tale is far from that.  It is a true story. I will begin as if we are sitting on the sofa and drinking a glass of tea.

GET THIS... Years ago we had a yellow lab, his name was Cooper.  He was a beautiful dog that stayed bored.  One day he came onto the porch carting a bone hanging out of his mouth.  Now when I say "bone".. I mean big ol' bone.  Not store bought- he dug that sucker up from the yard.  I took it from him and shared his find with my family.  Everyone tried to assure me that our property was once a large farm and it probably was from a cow.  I remember joking around and letting them know I was not 100% on board with that theory- I did not go to medical school, but that looked like a femur. We looked for a hole, hoping we could find closure.  None was found.  It seems the dog went under the backside of the house- through a small opening in the paneling and found it.  UNDER THE HOUSE- did you catch that part?   I eventually put the bone mishap behind me and did not think of it to often.  I mean- Ewwww right?  Cow- yep, going with the old dead cow.

Now reader beware- it is about to get creepy...

When my son was two years old, he woke up frequently at night afraid.  He would point to the same area in our house - the small hallway that leads to the bathroom and cry "there is the old Yady, the old yady scares me, I don't like the old yady"  He had mentioned more than once she carried a stick.  I can only assume he meant a cane.  Again, this was not a one time deal.  It happened a lot.  I would hold him and let him know that he was safe.  That there was no one in the house with us except daddy and sister.    Please know, the entire time I held him - I pierced my eyes into the darkness, looking until they watered.  Trying to see what he saw.  NOTHING.  I saw nothing!  But I do not doubt that he did.  I have heard over the years that the very young and innocent can see things jaded adults can not.  I am a believer.  He is now five.  He has not woke up crying about "her" in over two years.  Did she just go away or has his mind closed off what it now deems impossible?  I have no idea.

Fast forward to the summer to of 2012
Our family was at the beach and the husband got a weird vibe. He decided to hop on his lap top and check the cameras at our house. All of a sudden we hear a crash, something that sounded like a sneeze AND muffled talking over white noise.  His eyes turned into saucers and I freely admit I was freaking out too since we have had a house destroyed in the past. He called the local police department to investigate. We could see the cop shine his light into our house via the cameras and knew he was not taking the call lightly.  He had the dispatcher let us know that everything was locked down tight as one would hope...  BUT the sound continued- At midnight when the automatic air freshener went off at the beach - it clicked- We had called the local PD over pleasant smelling air. Which is classic debacle for this family!  So that explained the crash/ sneeze sound that was repeated but it did NOT explain the voices.  We had not left any tvs on.  No radios were plugged in.  NOTHING should have sounded like voices in a wind tunnel.  There is no answer for that and we have discussed it over and over.

We have the unexplained creaks that most people chalk up to a house settling or the wind.  Most nights I do not get over concerned and attempt not to over think it.  MOST nights- the dog doesn't fidget or bark and sit up with his ears cocked back.  MOST NIGHTS!

It has been brought to my attention more than once and I myself have toyed with the idea of calling some sort of ghostbuster in to do a little investigating.  In the end, however, what will they accomplish?  My ghost do not run around and rip up my good sheets.  They don't scream "BOO" or rattle chains.  I have said "Beatlejuice" three times for giggles.  No Dice.  They seem peaceful- I don't think they mean us any harm.  Does this mean I ain't afraid of no ghost?  ummm NO, that is not what it means.  I ain't afraid of MY ghost.

Happy Hauntings