Spoke Too Soon - April 29, 2002

That thing I said yesterday about a successful stinkbug de-bugging?  Yeah, scratch that.

When I came home yesterday, the stinkbugs were back, crawling all over the screens inside the porch.  

Yesterday was a day full of mishaps and weirdness.  

I'd planned my afternoon tasks right down to the minute: (1) pick up the grocery order for the cookout, (2) pick up the meat for the cookout, (3) mow the lawn, and (4) take The Husband to dinner for his birthday.  

The first indication of trouble came when the grocery store e-mailed a list of substitutions.  One of the substitutions was a bag of frozen mixed berries instead of the strawberries I'd ordered.  The strawberries were for home-made ice cream at the cookout; mixed berries would not do.  This added another stop (or two) to look for strawberries.

Next, I went to pick up the meat.  I ordered this meat and 18 eggs from a local farm that raises cattle and chickens.  The farm is located in an area that surrounds a very big state park.  The roads around this park are a labyrinth; roads will suddenly end, and then pick up elsewhere.  I have never driven through this area without getting lost.  But yesterday I had my GPS for directions and drove straight to the farm, no problem.  On the way, I recognized a road with which I am familiar (or so I thought) and decided to take it on the way home without using the GPS.  Big mistake.  I ended up back at the farm.  Short on time (and gas), I did not need this complication.

About those eggs?  I'd ordered eggs from the grocery store but had cancelled them when I found out I could buy them from the farm.  When I picked up the grocery order, the nice clerk handed me a bag and asked, "Do you want these eggs up front?"  Since I was in a rush, I did not want to go through the process of trying to return them, so I took them.  When I got to the farm, I intended to cut my egg order back to 12, but the farmer's wife brought me 2 dozen eggs and insisted that I take the extra for free because their chickens were egging them to death.  This brought the egg total in my car to 42, plus the 8 or 10 in the refrigerator at home.  

I gave the store-bought eggs to Nanny, once I found my way out of the forest.

The extra stops and extra mileage had cut into the allotted mowing time.  By this time, I was mildly irked about all the complications in my plans.  Would I have time to shower and change clothes before my dinner date?  I decided to put off the mowing for a day since The Boss had given me a day off to prepare for the cookout.  I came home, intending to take a breather on the porch until it was time to get ready for dinner.  That's when I discovered that stinkbugs had invaded the porch again.  A big, fat bumblebee had joined the party and was buzzing all over the place, desperate to get out.  I tried to shoo him out the door, but he would not go.  Finally, I trapped his ass in a mason jar and turned him loose in the yard.

Dinner was good.  The drive home was nice, with the windows down and a ukulele CD (which The Husband had bought at last week's ukulele fest) in the dashboard player.  

It appears that Sunday's bug-a-thon was a success.  We haven't seen a stinkbug since.

Now I have to turn my attention to the yard and other duties for a cookout we are having this weekend (a belated birthday party).  We have not mowed our yard this spring, and the weeds and grass are tall.  This was a deliberate delay on my part, as the bees and butterflies have been enjoying the weed blooms.  But we'll be having rug-rats running all over the yard this weekend, so it's time to mow.

There's food shopping to do, and house-cleaning.  The grocery list is ready.  The living room has been dusted, but there's more to do.  I hope I have time to finish it all before Saturday afternoon!

De-Bugging - April 24, 2022

By this time of night, my brain is usually too mushy to type a coherent sentence.  But today's doings necessitated a shower before bed (explanation to follow), and now I've caught a second wind.

It's been a busy day, thanks to the stinkbugs.

I came out to the porch with my first cup of coffee.  The porch screens were once again crawling with stinkbugs.  They nearly drove me nuts buzzing my head.  I went back inside, cooked breakfast, and came back out after we ate, determined to kill the bugs with a flyswatter.  When they were all dead (or so I thought), the floor was littered with carcasses.  I swept them up with a broom, dumped them in a trash bag, sealed it up tight, and took it outside to the garbage can.  

The sweeping led to a general porch-cleaning and reorganization.  By the time I was finished, the porch screens were once again crawling with stinkbugs.  I went inside and got the vacuum cleaner, and came out and sucked up every bug I could find.  Having the vacuum cleaner handy led to cleaning things I'd missed the first go-'round.  This, in turn, led to me griping about the screen door that didn't fit properly and the ceiling fan that has quit working.  I cajoled The Husband into going to the hardware store for a new door and a new fan.

When we got home, the stinkbugs were back on the screens.  I vacuumed them again.  We hung the new door.  I vacuumed more bugs.  Jesus Christ, where are these things coming from?  

It occurred to me that they might have somehow escaped from the vacuum cleaner.  There were dozens and dozens of live ones crawling around in the canister.  I was planning to leave them in there until they starved to death, but . . . .  Maybe I should drown them.  I mixed up a bucket of soapy water and emptied the canister into it.  When I went back to check on it a few minutes later, I could see antennae moving among the suds like a bunch of mini-snorkels, and one bug was trying to crawl up the side of the bucket.  Oh, HELL NO!  A good cupful of Clorox put a stop to that action.

Tired of the de-bugging, I went inside to fix us some supper.  After we ate, I settled in to watch the season finale of Sanditon.  And the whole time, through dinner and the tv show, I could smell stinkbug stink.  It permeated my clothes and my hair.  Hence the shower.

I'm on the porch now.  There's another stinkbug in here.  I hear him buzzing.

He's gonna get it tomorrow.

Babysitting - April 24, 2022

Son #1 called yesterday around lunchtime and asked if I was up for a little bit of babysitting.  He didn't have to ask twice.  An hour later, Granddaughters #3 and #4 (the LRB) arrived.

We sat on the back porch for a little while.  When the parents were ready to leave, I took the girls inside to get a cookie while the parents escaped.  It wasn't long before the LRB pointed to the back door.  I knew what she was thinking; she was looking for her mama.  It seemed kind of mean to let her continue to think her parents were on the porch, so I opened the kitchen door and let her go out to the porch, bracing myself for the fit she would pitch upon discovering that her parents were missing.  But she just trotted out, looked around, and picked up a toy.  Whew!

We had a big time.  Big Sister spent time crafting in the sewing room.  She played dress-up, and she made a water-color landscape painting.  When the LRB saw the water-color pallet, she rubbed her finger on the colors and then rubbed her eyelids and cheeks, thinking the water-colors were makeup.  Fifteen months old, and already a glamour girl.  

We read multiple books.  We ate multiple snacks.  We played a lot of peek-a-boo.  We swung on the swingset.  It was a good day.  :)

Sitting this one out - April 23, 2022

The ukulele festival is proceeding just fine without me.

I went with The Husband to the opening night doin's.  It was crowded!  Although the organizers knew how many people had signed up for the festival, apparently they didn't expect ALL of  the ticket holders to show up the first night.  The room barely held us all.  It was hot and stuffy.  But it was a roomful of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet, and a lot of talented musicians.  They had "open mic night," and a few groups performed.  Still, I was ready to leave before it was over.

The Husband had bought me a ticket for all three days of the festival, which included workshops.  The Boss would have let me off for the day, but I opted to go to work because there was a rather "sticky" case on the docket and I figured I would be needed.  Alas, the case was continued, and The Boss turned me loose just after lunch.

It was a beautiful day, so I came home and set up my laptop on the porch to do some digitizing.  There were dozens of stinkbug-looking bugs crawling on the inside of the porch screens, and they kept buzzing my head and landing on me until I could not concentrate on my work.  I found a can of bug spray and dosed them good.  They basically laughed at me and went on about their business.  I found another can of bug spray - the foamy type that shoots about 20 feet - and dosed them again.  This knocked a bunch of them off the screens, but it wasn't long until they'd crawled back up.  I thought, Good grief, what's it going to take . . . . "  As the sun went down and it got dark, the light from my laptop screen drew them, and I finally had to give up and go inside.  But this morning it looks like most of them eventually succumbed to the 1-2 bug spray punch.

Public Service Announcement - CleverFlora French Crochet Kit - April 20, 2022

Several weeks ago, I ordered a "French Crochet Kit" from a web site called CleverFlora.  I don't know where I found out about it - probably Pinterest.  The technique looked really cool and was a craft I had not tried.

The kit came yesterday.  It barely resembles the kit on the CleverFlora web site.  I did receive embroidery floss, embroidery hoops, and some fabric, but there was no hook.  Instead, there was a pack of regular sewing/embroidery needles.  Although I have never done "french crochet" (which I believe is actually called "tambour"), it seems to me that the hook is an essential part of the process! 

Here's a picture of what I got:

See the booklet at the top of the picture?  It appears to be a booklet of patterns.  All of the writing is in Chinese.  

I would not advise buying this kit.

My tomato seeds ("Hossinator," I think) came in the mail Monday.  I planted them yesterday in a plastic greenhouse tray left over from last year, using dollar store "all-purpose" dirt that doesn't want to soak up the water I sprinkled on it.  It may be a miracle if they sprout.

Last year, I sprouted our tomato plants indoors, under a florescent light.  Even though the light was positioned just an inch from the tops of the plants, they grew leggy.  When they were about an inch tall, we had to go out of town for a few days, and I asked Uncle Jack (who has a tiny greenhouse) if he would babysit the tomatoes while we were gone.  He agreed, and when I got back, the tomatoes had grown magnificently under his care.  They were sturdy, and deep green. 

This year, I shall attempt to sprout the seeds (and grow the seedlings) outdoors, in the sunshine.  Once the seeds sprout, I'll take the lid off the mini-greenhouse tray so the wind can blow across the plants (which will help make the stems stronger).  

And I will probably kill them and go to the greenhouse for plants.

* * * * * * * * 

The Husband has signed us both up for a ukulele festival/workshop scheduled to happen this weekend.  I have not learned to play the ukulele, but I shall give it a try.  This workshop will last 3 days, but I'll have to work for 2 of the 3 days, unless The Boss gets wind of it, in which case she will probably tell me to go play.  She might get wind of it this morning while we are on our way to court.  ;)

Back to the Grind - April 18, 2022

It's back to work for me today.  The Boss will ask, "How was your trip?" and I will reply, "Meh," and then we'll spend an hour talking about what went on around town while I was gone.  

* * * * * * * * 

Yesterday, we went to visit The Granddaughters.  The Little Rotten Baby was sitting on an ottoman, batting away bubbles that Granddaughter #1 was blowing for her.  She looked like she'd been crying.  It turned out that her red eyes and runny nose resulted from a combination of seasonal allergies and the fit she'd pitched when her mama got tired of blowing bubbles and quit.  She'd kept saying, "BWOW!" until Granddaughter #1 relented and took over the job.  

When even the LRB got tired of the bubble game, her mama fixed her some food and told her to come eat.  She ran to her mama for a bite, then moved across the room to play with a toy.  Mama would say, "Bite!" and the baby would briefly run by for another mouthful.  As the LRB got full, when Mama would say, "Bite!" the baby would open her mouth wherever she was in the room, expecting Mama to bring it to her (which did not happen).  

The kid is rotten, I'm telling you.

But, dang, she's cute!  ;)

What Day Is It? - April 16, 2022

Having been off from work for a week, I have lost track of time.  Since The Husband and I were both at home yesterday, it seemed like Saturday.  I woke up this morning thinking today was Sunday and only realized the truth when CBS Sunday Morning did not come on TV.  How in the world am I going to keep up with the day of the week when I retire?  Marking off the days on a calendar won't work; I'll never remember to do it.

After breakfast yesterday, we un-wrapped the back porch, folded all the panels, and stored them away.  I was amazed at how many ladybugs, stinkbugs, and other insects had snuggled themselves (permanently!) under the sticky velcro tape that we'd used to install the panels.  It was plumb creepy.

It's nice to have the panels off the porch, to be able to see the birds checking out nesting places in the birdhouses we've scattered around the yard.  There's a birdhouse suction-cupped to the living room window, right next to my workspace on the porch, and for the past two days I've watched a yellow/gray bird (a warbler, I think) check out the accommodations.  Ever since we've had that birdhouse stuck to the window, wrens have nested in it.  They'd better hurry if they're going to get their old digs, else the yellow birds might beat them to it.

I ordered tomato seeds yesterday.  These are called "Hossinators," and they are hawked as the most disease-resistant tomatoes on the planet.  This may be a little late to start tomatoes.  Even though I have several packages of tomato seeds in the freezer (ordered them at the end of the season last year), I was planning on buying greenhouse tomato plants and not starting any from seeds.  But I could not resist the disease-resistance claim.  

Travels - April 15, 2022

The Husband attended a seminar in South Carolina this week.  I went along for the ride.  

We usually avoid interstate highways but the map program said using them would cut two hours off of the drive, so we bit the bullet and took the interstates.  The original plan was to drive halfway and stop somewhere for the night.  We left home mid-morning and ended up driving for 8 or 9 hours without stopping except for bathroom breaks.  By that time, we were only an hour from our eventual destination and considered driving on, but our hotel wouldn't give us a room a day early.  We were hungry and our butts had had enough of the truck seat.  We pulled off at the next exit that promised lodging and a margarita.  I can't even tell you where we stopped.  Didn't care at the time.  Food was okay.  Margaritas were pitiful.  

We arrived at our eventual destination around noon Sunday.  We stayed at a downtown hotel, with a "quaint" main street full of tourists and city-dwellers walking their dogs.  There were a lot of restaurants nearby, all of which required a fairly long wait to get a table.  

While The Husband was attending the seminar, I took the truck and did some sight-seeing on the outskirts of town.  Nothing exciting to report there.

We started home fairly early yesterday (Thursday) morning.  Having driven the interstates and gotten caught in major traffic jams, we decided to take the backroads home.  Outside of Decatur, Alabama, we got stuck in yet another traffic jam.  So much for the backroads, eh?

It was almost 9 p.m. when we rolled into our driveway last night.  After nearly 12 hours in the truck, it sure was good to be home.

Lots to do - April 8, 2022

So far, this has been a rather busy week, and the trend will likely continue for the coming week.  The Husband has a seminar to attend in South Carolina next week, and I am going along for the ride.  We will be driving there and intend to leave this weekend to have a leisurely trip.  Since I have accompanied him to many of his past seminars, I know what the week will be like, so I am considering having him drop me off at my BFF's house in Georgia while he does the seminar.  Probably I should call her before I just show up at her door, eh?

* * * * * * * *

Part of my busy week involved the grandchildren.  The Grandson spent last weekend with us and showed me his cell phone.  The screen was shattered enough that the phone was unusable.  One day this week, I took it to a repair shop.  Since the repair shop is near The Granddaughters' house, I stopped by to see them.  The Little Rotten Baby was in rare form.  She was trailing her 7-year-old sister through the house, begging for a lick of her sister's sucker, which her sister was kind enough to allow.  When her sister went outside with the sucker, the LRB "fell out" crying on the tile floor, bumping her nose in the process.  I scooped her up to comfort her, but I was secretly laughing inside.  What a drama queen!  

Yesterday was a busy day at work; I actually had to work until 5 p.m.  Shortly before 5, when it appeared that I would be working even later, I texted The Husband and asked him to stop at a fast-food place on his way home to get us some gyros for supper.  I had planned to make a meat loaf, but time was running short.  The reply text said, "Ok.  Did you want that tonight?"  

I thought, WTF?  But I answered, "Whatever.  We can eat peanut butter for all I care."

As it turned out, just minutes after I sent the text, The Boss said, "Let's go home."  I called The Husband to tell him that I could get us something for supper since I was about to leave work.  While we were talking, he conferenced in my BFF, who had actually been the recipient of my original text message.  She had realized that I'd texted her by mistake, and she'd called The Husband to work out a plan to mess with me.  The heifer.

If I go to visit her, I may show up with a gyro in hand.

Dilemma - April 6, 2002

I wish I had just kept my mouth shut and let somebody else handle the problem.

You may have read the saga about cleaning out a deceased aunt's apartment after her death.  She had some collections that nobody knew what to do with.  After some deliberation, I volunteered to try to sell the stuff and rented a booth in a "vintage" mall and divide the proceeds among her sisters.  The rent was $125 per month.  At the beginning of March, I hauled the stuff to the booth and set it up.  Very little of it has sold, not even enough to cover the rent.  I gave notice to the mall owners yesterday that I will be pulling out of the booth at the end of April.  Before this week is up, I am going to put a "50% OFF!" sign in the booth to try to move some of it.

What am I going to do with this stuff?  I dread the thought of packing it all up, and then what will I do with it?  

IT IS NOT COMING TO MY HOUSE.  

To be continued . . . . 

Oh, my aching everything! April 3, 2022

OMG...somebody come help me up!

Those new rakes have nearly done me in.

Friday morning, shortly after my last post, as I was contemplating how I was going to spend my day off (time with the rakes wasn't even in the running), a daughter-in-law came in.  She was scheduled to work from home, but her internet is crappy, and she needed to work from our home where the service is more reliable.  She set up her laptop computer in our office, and then plugged a telephone directly into our router.  I don't know a lot about internet/router stuff, but I figured it was probably best that I not spend much time online to keep from sucking up the bandwidth (if that's even a thing).  It was a lovely, sunny day, so I decided to break out the rakes and get busy in the yard.  Around 9 a.m., I put on my gardening gloves and went outside.  

Now, I haven't done much hard physical labor in several months.  My knee problem started acting up in November, then I came down with bronchitis that lasted for weeks, then the weather turned cold and icy, so I've been rather sedentary for a while.  My muscles have turned into jelly.

Friday morning, though sunny, was a bit chilly.  After about an hour of raking, my hands were cold and my nose was running to beat the band.  I came inside, blew my nose, had another cup of coffee, rested a bit, went back outside.  It was still cold, so all morning I'd work a bit, come in to warm up, then go back out.  Finally, about 2 p.m., it was warm enough to work without needing to come inside to thaw.  By the time The Husband came home at 6 p.m., I'd raked and burned about 30 piles of leaves/gumballs/sticks.  My knee was throbbing, and every muscle in my body was screaming, "WTF?!"  Around 7 p.m., I propped the rakes on the front porch and called it a day.  I took a shower and a big dose of Tylenol and was in bed by 9.

Saturday was the day The Husband called in the troops to cut up the tree that had fallen in Nanny's yard.  Grandsons arrived around 10.  Son #1 still hadn't made it to our house with the chainsaw, so The Husband sent the grandsons down to Nanny's to rake pine needles in Nanny's yard until the chainsaw got here.  

I was moving remarkably well after a night's rest, so I put on my gloves and went outside to resume my raking.  The rakes were gone; the boys had taken them to Nanny's.  I ripped off a few curse words, then went out to our shed to get our old rake.  While in the shed, I found the leaf-blower and dragged it out, plugged it up, and started trying to corral the leaves/sticks/gumballs into a pile that I could burn.  It was like herding cats.  As I was working, The Husband came out and said that Son #1 had called with the news that the chainsaw needed a new chain, so he went to the hardware store to buy one.  He came home with yet another yard rake.  I put the leaf blower aside and started raking while The Husband went down to Nanny's to get on the tractor and haul away the pine needles that the boys had raked up.

Around 2:30, The Husband came home to tell me that Nanny had fixed lunch for everybody.  By this time, I'd finished raking the yard on the north side of the house.  I laid my rake down and went to Nanny's to eat.  After lunch, the menfolk tackled the tree that had fallen across the garden.  As soon as they cleared the limbs off the garden, I went out and started pulling up the fence posts that we'd used for supports for the tomatoes and running beans.  It was nearly 7 p.m. by the time the guys finished with the tree.  I still had not pulled the posts from the tomato rows - they were wired to hog-wire fencing, and I didn't have any wire cutters on me - but I said Screw this, and we all went home.  

It took TWO doses of Tylenol to ease my aching everything.

Today, I question the wisdom of resuming the raking job, but there's still a lot of yard left to do.  

A Day Off - April 1, 2022

The Best Boss gave me today off.  She must have felt sorry for me yesterday because of all my sneezing and snorting.  Allergies, I reckon.

As I was on my way home, contemplating how I would spend this free day and the upcoming weekend, it occurred to me that, allergies be damned, I really should work in the yard.  It'll soon be time to mow.  Recent storms littered the ground with limbs and sticks and sweet gum balls that'll have to be picked up and raked up before we can mow.   But our big plastic yard rake has about 3 teeth left in it, so I stopped at the hardware store and bought two more rakes - one plastic, one metal.  One for me, one for The Husband.

But The Husband may not be using his rake this weekend.  There's a big old tree laying squarely across the garden.  It fell earlier this month when we had several days of rain followed by an ice storm followed by more rain.  We can't do anything in the garden until the tree is removed.  And it's driving Nanny crazy to see it every morning through her kitchen window.  The Husband has called Son #1 to come over with his chainsaw and The Grandson tomorrow.  I expect they'll be sawing and tractoring most of the day.  

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I had a break-through yesterday.

Well, really the break-through happened the day before.

I think I told you that I bought a bread machine, and that my first loaf - a whole wheat loaf - had flopped.  Collapsed.  Even though I followed the recipe to the letter, or so I thought.

I HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO MAKE A DECENT LOAF OF WHOLE WHEAT BREAD.

Over the next few days, I made a couple of loaves of regular white bread.  Those loaves came out fine, so the night before last I decided to try the wheat bread again.  It collapsed.  WTF?

As I was cleaning up the measuring cups and spoons, it hit me what went wrong.  The recipe called for two eggs plus some water to equal 1-1/4 cups of liquid.  I had been using 1-1/4 cups of liquid PLUS the two eggs.  

Yesterday, as soon as I got home from work, I started another loaf of whole wheat bread, measuring the liquid correctly.  AND IT WORKED!  The bread rose and did not collapse during baking!  I took it out of the pan, let it cool, and sliced it.  I ate the crusty, butter-slavered butt, right away.  It was delicious.

Yay!

* * * * * * * * * * * *