Tap, Tap, Tap
We've been in this building for five weeks and we still do not have our candy machine! Gawd, and now also pissing me off? It is getting really, really, hot in the building. I'm getting bad, old building flashbacks. So, no candy machines and it's hot. And so far? No Popsicles! What kind of place is this?
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
BeepBeepBeep Damn.
I haven’t been at the mercy of an alarm in three weeks, well, there was that wake up call at the hotel but it didn’t mean that I had to wake up right then. I haven’t as much as looked at a clock out of anything more then mild curiosity in almost a month. Do you know how nice it is to not care about what time it is? To have it not matter? I mean, the luxury of getting up whenever you wake up and going to sleep whenever you go to sleep? BeepBeepBeep . Damn.
The one upside to being back is the promise of air-conditioning. It was as least as hot up there last week as it is here this week but here we have air-conditioning. I took Dogger on our first walk Monday night. It was hot. Shockingly. Dogger didn’t even want to go for a walk, she lay down in the drive way and started to sing We shall overcome. She even had the sway down. Sadly for her, I overcame her and we walked.
I knew I was on vacation, the people at work knew, the paperboy knew, the neighbors knew, but surprisingly my creditors did not. They insisted on sending me bills! Lots and lots of bills. A few of them due, hahaha, today. So I needed to go to the mail boxes, sooner rather than later. So at 5:30 (I’m all ready all about clocks and time ) Dogger and set out for the post office, the last pick up is 6pm. We speak to a guy sitting on a porch, we talk about the heat. We’re both hot.
We got there and safety mailed everything, we even chatted with the post guy standing outside collecting the last minute drop offs. We agreed it was hot.
We are almost home.
A nice, older man sitting in a truck (with the engine running) asks me about Dogger. Everyone asks me about Dogger. And usually, I am more than happy to talk about her. But it was hot. The man wanted to know if I had heard about the dog mauling out in California. Sadly, I said I had. He said he had a heard about the same thing back in the forties, except it was a woman and she was mauled by her Dobermans. He said they were nice dogs too. I said “Well, they were still dogs”. And then he told me about how his retriever lived for nineteen years! 19 years! A retriever, a big dog. And said that was a wonderful thing. I should also point out that it was very hot and I was now standing still in the very hot. The man had his trucks a/c going, he was in no hurry. He was enjoying himself.
And I was too, I mean, really, a nice conversation is a nice thing. But. He went on and on about his daughters dog and what a nice little dog it was and he had just finished babysitting it for an extended time. He loves that little dog. He said “People without pets don’t understand this, we don’t spoil them, they spoil us. And that is about the sweetest thing I have ever heard.
And sweat is flowing down my face and getting in my eyes and every time I wipe it away it comes right back and I am trying to be polite because he is being so sweet and he’s so obviously happy to be talking dogs with a fellow dog lover and the man goes on to say how he would never have stopped me if it wasn’t for Dogger and do not pet owners have this thing in common... and I say we do, we really do and he’s so nice and... I finally break away, after agreeing pet owners have this bond and while, yes, it was lovely to speak to him and all, but the whole time he had his a/c blowing and I’m standing there dieing.
So, onto the Photobloggingarama!!
I haven’t been at the mercy of an alarm in three weeks, well, there was that wake up call at the hotel but it didn’t mean that I had to wake up right then. I haven’t as much as looked at a clock out of anything more then mild curiosity in almost a month. Do you know how nice it is to not care about what time it is? To have it not matter? I mean, the luxury of getting up whenever you wake up and going to sleep whenever you go to sleep? BeepBeepBeep . Damn.
The one upside to being back is the promise of air-conditioning. It was as least as hot up there last week as it is here this week but here we have air-conditioning. I took Dogger on our first walk Monday night. It was hot. Shockingly. Dogger didn’t even want to go for a walk, she lay down in the drive way and started to sing We shall overcome. She even had the sway down. Sadly for her, I overcame her and we walked.
I knew I was on vacation, the people at work knew, the paperboy knew, the neighbors knew, but surprisingly my creditors did not. They insisted on sending me bills! Lots and lots of bills. A few of them due, hahaha, today. So I needed to go to the mail boxes, sooner rather than later. So at 5:30 (I’m all ready all about clocks and time ) Dogger and set out for the post office, the last pick up is 6pm. We speak to a guy sitting on a porch, we talk about the heat. We’re both hot.
We got there and safety mailed everything, we even chatted with the post guy standing outside collecting the last minute drop offs. We agreed it was hot.
We are almost home.
A nice, older man sitting in a truck (with the engine running) asks me about Dogger. Everyone asks me about Dogger. And usually, I am more than happy to talk about her. But it was hot. The man wanted to know if I had heard about the dog mauling out in California. Sadly, I said I had. He said he had a heard about the same thing back in the forties, except it was a woman and she was mauled by her Dobermans. He said they were nice dogs too. I said “Well, they were still dogs”. And then he told me about how his retriever lived for nineteen years! 19 years! A retriever, a big dog. And said that was a wonderful thing. I should also point out that it was very hot and I was now standing still in the very hot. The man had his trucks a/c going, he was in no hurry. He was enjoying himself.
And I was too, I mean, really, a nice conversation is a nice thing. But. He went on and on about his daughters dog and what a nice little dog it was and he had just finished babysitting it for an extended time. He loves that little dog. He said “People without pets don’t understand this, we don’t spoil them, they spoil us. And that is about the sweetest thing I have ever heard.
And sweat is flowing down my face and getting in my eyes and every time I wipe it away it comes right back and I am trying to be polite because he is being so sweet and he’s so obviously happy to be talking dogs with a fellow dog lover and the man goes on to say how he would never have stopped me if it wasn’t for Dogger and do not pet owners have this thing in common... and I say we do, we really do and he’s so nice and... I finally break away, after agreeing pet owners have this bond and while, yes, it was lovely to speak to him and all, but the whole time he had his a/c blowing and I’m standing there dieing.
So, onto the Photobloggingarama!!
Monday, August 6, 2007
Hey!!
And then it got hot again... I mean, like really, really hot. But, I'm back!! Kind of, in that "Just-back-from-vacation-gawd-I-am-sooo-tired-and-I-sooo-much-to-get-done-and-where-are-my-shoes?" way but Wow, Tuesday, boy howdy! I see photobloggingarama! Let me tell you something about Marquette you may not know, that does not photograph as well as the local flora: You can go buy Vodka at the grocery store, they have beer and wine too, but I was floored to see the hard stuff there too.
And then it got hot again... I mean, like really, really hot. But, I'm back!! Kind of, in that "Just-back-from-vacation-gawd-I-am-sooo-tired-and-I-sooo-much-to-get-done-and-where-are-my-shoes?" way but Wow, Tuesday, boy howdy! I see photobloggingarama! Let me tell you something about Marquette you may not know, that does not photograph as well as the local flora: You can go buy Vodka at the grocery store, they have beer and wine too, but I was floored to see the hard stuff there too.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Hello!
Still vacationing, still enjoying vacationing. It is very hot - not in the way the rest of the country defines "hot", but "hot" as defined by those living without air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation. Those living without air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation don't need air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation because they spend most of their time curled up in front of the fireplace, and, in fact air-conditioning and adequate cross ventilation would be at the very least, contraindicated most of the time. Sadly, not at this particular time.
Still vacationing, still enjoying vacationing. It is very hot - not in the way the rest of the country defines "hot", but "hot" as defined by those living without air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation. Those living without air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation don't need air-conditioning or adequate cross ventilation because they spend most of their time curled up in front of the fireplace, and, in fact air-conditioning and adequate cross ventilation would be at the very least, contraindicated most of the time. Sadly, not at this particular time.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Break A Leg!
I bathed Dogger and then I bathed myself and now I had these wet towels and I said "I should launder these now so I can dry them and put them away before we leave for three weeks", and then I forgot all about them.
10:30pm, I remember them. I decided to go put them into the dryer. They are soaking. Literally, the washer is full of water. It will not drain. I have to remove the soaking towels. I am stuck with an arm load of very wet towels. I drop them to the floor, after I put them momentarily on top the dryer (because I am very tried) I don't think dryers like being wet. The towels are causing my basement floor to take on pond-like characteristics.
The washer, now empty, cheerfully begins to spin.
I wait for it to finish, I redeposit the soaking wet towels (Like three towels, the machine was hardly over loaded) and wade upstairs.
Did I mention we had to turn off the water to the downstairs toilet? Yeah, the flush mechanism broke in two.
I bathed Dogger and then I bathed myself and now I had these wet towels and I said "I should launder these now so I can dry them and put them away before we leave for three weeks", and then I forgot all about them.
10:30pm, I remember them. I decided to go put them into the dryer. They are soaking. Literally, the washer is full of water. It will not drain. I have to remove the soaking towels. I am stuck with an arm load of very wet towels. I drop them to the floor, after I put them momentarily on top the dryer (because I am very tried) I don't think dryers like being wet. The towels are causing my basement floor to take on pond-like characteristics.
The washer, now empty, cheerfully begins to spin.
I wait for it to finish, I redeposit the soaking wet towels (Like three towels, the machine was hardly over loaded) and wade upstairs.
Did I mention we had to turn off the water to the downstairs toilet? Yeah, the flush mechanism broke in two.
Mow, Mow, Mow His Yard
I just mowed the drug dealers yard. I didn’t do it because I’m a nice person or because I’m a team player or even because I had the urge to help out. It wasn’t altruism that mowed that yard, it was disgust. The drug dealer has left the building , although I saw a light on inside that didn’t make me think the house was entirely empty. The drug dealer left because... depending on who you ask :
1. “The police came and now he can’t live there anymore” (his six year old nephew)
2. “The house is being foreclosed” (The neighbor on the other side of the crazy woman)
3. “He was put out, he may be living close by though”” (my nice neighbor)
Whatever the reason, he did not leave on purpose. I didn’t notice a mountain of crap outside and a mountain of crap outside a house usually speaks to a forced retreat. One day the people are there, the next day, mountain of crap and they’re gone. I do kind of remember seeing some sort of notice on the door a while back but it wasn’t the right color. The notice the sheriff puts on a door when the occupants have to leave is goldenrod and usually features a lot of bold face capital letters. The notice I saw lacked those, also what ever was on his door was white - but that would speak to the “police came and he can’t live there anymore” I got from the nephew. Maybe it wasn’t the sheriffs department that put up the notice. Yes, I interrogated a six year old. He wanted to talk about his little cousin and I wanted to talk about the little cousins big daddy. Our needs intersected.
So anyway. I was mowing my yard with my push mower. I am so glad I have that. If you can, you should get one. They are very quite, and very green and I think the yard likes them better too, it seems to stay mowed for longer. People just can not believe what they are seeing when I’m out mowing, it takes them back, everyone has a story of watching their grandpa mow with one or how they used to have one. While I was still focusing on my yard, my nice neighbor came out in the yard and told me that his first job was mowing yards with a mower very much like mine. It was really sweet, it was a nice moment, and it never would have happened if I was mowing with the gas mower. I get all kinds of comments about the push mower, all of them positive..
Anyway. As I was marching back and forth across my yard, I couldn’t help looking at the absentee drug dealers yard and thinking That looks like crap. Everyone else takes care if their yards, why can’t he? Asshole didn’t do it when he was there either. and every pass I made I thought that really looks like crap and nobody is going to do anything about it. It’s just going to look like crap all summer, and the next thing I knew, instead of turning for another pass on my yard, I just kept right on going in the drug dealers yard. And I mowed it. His yard looks better and I feel better. I cussed him the whole time, and I realized about half way through that I was missing 30 Rock and that pissed me off. I also wondered if he would feel shamed when he found out that a neighbor took it upon themselves to mow his yard - because I would feel shamed if my yard looked so bad that a neighbor took it upon themselves to mow it, so while I was doing it so I lost whatever good karma points I might have accrued if I could have thought pleasant, non-judgmental thoughts about him, but I got it done.
On a more altruistic note, on Wednesday I went to try to give blood and I got two pieces of good news, the first being that since I moved here I have donated a gallon of blood, the second being that I was able to donate an additional pint. And there was much rejoicing throughout the Dianaverse.
For the gallon I got pin shaped like a drop of gold blood with a tiny “1" on it And I may be eligible for a second pin with a tiny “2" on it - no one there was able to say how many pints I’ve donated since I got the donor card. I think they could, the manager at the desk said they could, but they didn’t want to. They wanted to go home. I scored a tee shirt for the pint. Yay.
I just mowed the drug dealers yard. I didn’t do it because I’m a nice person or because I’m a team player or even because I had the urge to help out. It wasn’t altruism that mowed that yard, it was disgust. The drug dealer has left the building , although I saw a light on inside that didn’t make me think the house was entirely empty. The drug dealer left because... depending on who you ask :
1. “The police came and now he can’t live there anymore” (his six year old nephew)
2. “The house is being foreclosed” (The neighbor on the other side of the crazy woman)
3. “He was put out, he may be living close by though”” (my nice neighbor)
Whatever the reason, he did not leave on purpose. I didn’t notice a mountain of crap outside and a mountain of crap outside a house usually speaks to a forced retreat. One day the people are there, the next day, mountain of crap and they’re gone. I do kind of remember seeing some sort of notice on the door a while back but it wasn’t the right color. The notice the sheriff puts on a door when the occupants have to leave is goldenrod and usually features a lot of bold face capital letters. The notice I saw lacked those, also what ever was on his door was white - but that would speak to the “police came and he can’t live there anymore” I got from the nephew. Maybe it wasn’t the sheriffs department that put up the notice. Yes, I interrogated a six year old. He wanted to talk about his little cousin and I wanted to talk about the little cousins big daddy. Our needs intersected.
So anyway. I was mowing my yard with my push mower. I am so glad I have that. If you can, you should get one. They are very quite, and very green and I think the yard likes them better too, it seems to stay mowed for longer. People just can not believe what they are seeing when I’m out mowing, it takes them back, everyone has a story of watching their grandpa mow with one or how they used to have one. While I was still focusing on my yard, my nice neighbor came out in the yard and told me that his first job was mowing yards with a mower very much like mine. It was really sweet, it was a nice moment, and it never would have happened if I was mowing with the gas mower. I get all kinds of comments about the push mower, all of them positive..
Anyway. As I was marching back and forth across my yard, I couldn’t help looking at the absentee drug dealers yard and thinking That looks like crap. Everyone else takes care if their yards, why can’t he? Asshole didn’t do it when he was there either. and every pass I made I thought that really looks like crap and nobody is going to do anything about it. It’s just going to look like crap all summer, and the next thing I knew, instead of turning for another pass on my yard, I just kept right on going in the drug dealers yard. And I mowed it. His yard looks better and I feel better. I cussed him the whole time, and I realized about half way through that I was missing 30 Rock and that pissed me off. I also wondered if he would feel shamed when he found out that a neighbor took it upon themselves to mow his yard - because I would feel shamed if my yard looked so bad that a neighbor took it upon themselves to mow it, so while I was doing it so I lost whatever good karma points I might have accrued if I could have thought pleasant, non-judgmental thoughts about him, but I got it done.
On a more altruistic note, on Wednesday I went to try to give blood and I got two pieces of good news, the first being that since I moved here I have donated a gallon of blood, the second being that I was able to donate an additional pint. And there was much rejoicing throughout the Dianaverse.
For the gallon I got pin shaped like a drop of gold blood with a tiny “1" on it And I may be eligible for a second pin with a tiny “2" on it - no one there was able to say how many pints I’ve donated since I got the donor card. I think they could, the manager at the desk said they could, but they didn’t want to. They wanted to go home. I scored a tee shirt for the pint. Yay.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The Cats' Pajamas
Things that makes me tired:
Any discussion of "Wither Smokey", we caught him, he got him inoculated and then we let him go. He was around for a couple of days and then he bounced back to the other building. Probably the only home he has ever known - and then we took him away from there again and he hung around for a day and he went back home. And now we have the angst Where is Smokey? Have you seen Smokey? I checked the other building and we wasn't there either!, He drank a lot of water when he was here, I bet he has kidney damage! It's making him confused, demented even! he needs us!, The week end is what did it, He was here on Saturday... I had no idea so many people frequented the building parking lot over the weekends Where is he? Do you think he's all right, I checked the other building and he wasn't there... We shouldn't have brought him over/We should go get him now!
I know that every one of us has our own little Smokey song we sing every-time we go outside, they are all a variation on : Here Kitty! Come on baby! Kitty, Kitty! Want some food? Here Kitty, come on Smokey!". What if he were some homeless guy named Smokey who hung out in our parking lot? Would we feed him? Obsess over him. Sing to him, talk to him? Cry over him? Are we nice to him because he isn't a human? Or because we think he is?
..And he doesn't come when he's called because he's not here and it hurts. Everything is so different, we're spread all over the new building and now we're with all these strangers, it's not like it was. As much as we wanted to move we never thought what it was going to be like in real life. It was one thing to pour over the blue prints it was quite another to have to live in the blueprints. I think everything looked closer together, like we would still see each other and we don't, we can't, we're on different floors, all mixed up with these new people. It changes things.
If we have Smokey we have something we're used to, something that didn't change, something, the only thing familiar about our new building. We're lonely for each other and we want our kitty back and he's not as lonely for us as we are for him. I'm lonely for him, it makes me sad to go out in the parking lot and not see him, I come in every morning and he's not hanging out in the parking lot waiting for me. He waited for me every morning, no matter how badly my day turned out to be, it always started out good, because of him.
And I'm tired of phone calls and meetings and angsting about him. I want him back but all these obsessing over where he is all the time is very depressing and it's not making him hang out with us. He is the cutest, sweetest little raccoon in a cat suit ever, and don't you forget it! But his office didn't move, just ours... I'm going to give on of my friends my cell number, just in case he comes back while I'm gone.
Things that makes me tired:
Any discussion of "Wither Smokey", we caught him, he got him inoculated and then we let him go. He was around for a couple of days and then he bounced back to the other building. Probably the only home he has ever known - and then we took him away from there again and he hung around for a day and he went back home. And now we have the angst Where is Smokey? Have you seen Smokey? I checked the other building and we wasn't there either!, He drank a lot of water when he was here, I bet he has kidney damage! It's making him confused, demented even! he needs us!, The week end is what did it, He was here on Saturday... I had no idea so many people frequented the building parking lot over the weekends Where is he? Do you think he's all right, I checked the other building and he wasn't there... We shouldn't have brought him over/We should go get him now!
I know that every one of us has our own little Smokey song we sing every-time we go outside, they are all a variation on : Here Kitty! Come on baby! Kitty, Kitty! Want some food? Here Kitty, come on Smokey!". What if he were some homeless guy named Smokey who hung out in our parking lot? Would we feed him? Obsess over him. Sing to him, talk to him? Cry over him? Are we nice to him because he isn't a human? Or because we think he is?
..And he doesn't come when he's called because he's not here and it hurts. Everything is so different, we're spread all over the new building and now we're with all these strangers, it's not like it was. As much as we wanted to move we never thought what it was going to be like in real life. It was one thing to pour over the blue prints it was quite another to have to live in the blueprints. I think everything looked closer together, like we would still see each other and we don't, we can't, we're on different floors, all mixed up with these new people. It changes things.
If we have Smokey we have something we're used to, something that didn't change, something, the only thing familiar about our new building. We're lonely for each other and we want our kitty back and he's not as lonely for us as we are for him. I'm lonely for him, it makes me sad to go out in the parking lot and not see him, I come in every morning and he's not hanging out in the parking lot waiting for me. He waited for me every morning, no matter how badly my day turned out to be, it always started out good, because of him.
And I'm tired of phone calls and meetings and angsting about him. I want him back but all these obsessing over where he is all the time is very depressing and it's not making him hang out with us. He is the cutest, sweetest little raccoon in a cat suit ever, and don't you forget it! But his office didn't move, just ours... I'm going to give on of my friends my cell number, just in case he comes back while I'm gone.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
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