trucks, plants, miscellaneous, and dogpee pie
It's not that I have nothing to say; it's that there's so much. When I sit down to blog, I can't figure out where to start. Then I realize none of it is probably all that interesting, and I close out my client and go rassle some dogs.
We found a replacement engine for the Mothmobile, ordered it, and had the Mothmobile flat-bedded to the engine-replacing guy's place. The engine was supposed to ship that night. It never arrived. "We don't have no filing system here, and sometimes things have a way of disappearin."
Uh-huh. Or else somebody's Uncle Earl wanted it. Regardless, welcome back to brick one, Moth family.
T-moth was on vacation all week. He was hoping to have his truck back before his vacation was over. We were all disappointed.
Wednesday I went to the eye surgeon and he cleared me from restrictions and took me off the eye drops. He does want to see me again in two months to make sure my eye pressure has returned to normal; apparently the cataract was causing some glaucoma. I did not know that. I'm very glad I was a huge wuss and freaked out and insisted on having it removed.
When I got home from there, I called and made an appointment at the regular eye doc, who got me in the next day, Thursday. He told me that it had been a very opaque and aggressive cataract, so maybe I wasn't being a wuss after all. Anyhow, I ordered new lenses for the old frames because the insurance won't buy new frames 'til next year.
Friday we did yard sales. The spawn even went with us. The day started out coolish, with intermittent heavy showers. After the third downpour, someone turned the heat on. After that it was plainly nasty out. I found a Battleship game for 50 cents. I'm hoping maybe someone will play by text or IM. Tim also found an old Scrabble set that matches mine (which is missing an A, so...spare parts, yay) and a couple of decorative things, some pink and white ducks for the little bathroom and a gold vase for the living room. A big stuffed elephant with a Horton-y face...I have no idea why on that one. I named him Norton.
Other people may say their house is decorated in Yard Sale, but mine really is.
Before long it was too hot for sales, and we hit this neighborhood full of delusional people who thought all their crap was worth the same as I could get it at the store. So between the heat and the frustration we came home, took a break, and went to pick up the spawn's friend Crystal for a sleepover.
So then yesterday I turned 45. And...I just typed 25. Not that I would be 25 again for love or money. Cobie started the day off by giving me the gift of snuggling, which he never does. Usually after T-moth gets up, Kelly comes and cuddles, and Cobie takes advantage of having the dog bed to himself and sprawls out. But yesterday he came and gave me a major face bath and then snuggled up for about twenty minutes til we all had to go tinkle.
In the late morning, T-moth took me to Lowe's. I got just two tomato plants and one pepper plant, two pots of shasta daisies, and a sweet autumn clematis. Although he was a sinus headache in bloom, O how I miss Mr Clematis that my landlady ripped out of the ground and murdered at the apartment.
Yes, we're insanely late, but we kept having frost warnings right up until we started competing with the surface of the sun for heat indices. Anyhow, these plants all said they could be planted in June.
I also got morning glory seeds, hollyhock seeds--because I am NOT NAMED AFTER AN XMAS PLANT, THANK YOU WORLD--and some other star-shaped thingadoodles I think might climb the deck without pulling it over.
We stopped by the Video Game Outlet, where they had zero video games that appealed to me, but T-moth found a $3 movie called Jane White is Sick & Twisted, which I got only because it had Colin Mochrie on the cover.
On the way home, T-moth bought me a mocha iced capp from Tim Horton's. They were better than the McD's ones, in my opinion. Also...COLD. I had the worst brain freeze ever. I was seriously trying not to whimper. Then Mr Moth said, "My, that hurts," which made me feel better, or at least less wussified.
Generally once brain freeze passes it's gone, but this one was zombie brain freeze because it just kept coming back in waves. I'd think, "That wasn't so bad," and take another drink. O great indifferent cosmos, it was that bad. And not just my head hurt, but my chest hurt too. I thought, "This is how the people in the water felt after the Titanic sank." Then T-moth said, "I think my hypothalamus is frozen." This struck me as the funniest thing ever said in the history of the English language. I laughed til I would have peed, except my urethra was clamped shut from pain.
Eventually the pain abated, so I drank some more. It was really excellent. Totally worth going temporarily blind for.
Then we came home and planted things. It was hideously hot, and the mocha iced capp drinks (and their accompanying agony) quickly became a distant memory. Sweat poured off us while we stood and panted at each other.
So, we moved the poor struggling peony clump around to the front of the house. We put in both 'maters and their cages, which I bought because Cobie sees a tomato stake and thinks, "STICK!" We put in the pepper plant, which Cobie saw and thought, "SNACK!" and bit the top off of. I shoulda bought a third cage, I guess. Then we put in the two volunteer tomato plants, which I don't expect anything out of, but they just don't deserve to die.
Note that where I say "we," I mostly mean "Tim." I was there in a supervisory capacity though.
And then at the very end of the row we put in a rhubarb root, which I bought because my mother and I were reminiscing about rhubarb pie. Little did I know that she had also planted rhubarb...so if any of them live, we will have a lot of rhubarb.
Story: Mom used to have two rhubarb plants. One that Buddy the border collie-shepherd always peed on, and one that he didn't, for reasons known only to Buddy. So we made pies from the un-peed on plants, for obvious reasons.
But my stalker ex-husband used to come over to harrass me, and sometimes he would steal rhubarb and eat it raw right in front of me., with a big coyote grin on his face. And I would grin right back, because he was eating Buddy pee and never knew it.
Maybe Buddy knew it too. Often I considered making him a pie, but I was afraid someone else might eat some of it.
So.
I put most of the seeds out front except the star-flowers, because it was just too miserable out there. We'll see if any of them decide to grow.
I was going to put the clematis where I planted the other clematis that has never shown the promise of becoming anything other than a twig, but apparently someone has been using that spot as a litter box, which probably explains why that vine hasn't flourished. I want to move it, but it involves a cat pee extraction, and I'm not feeling it...not wanting to feel it, if you know what I mean.
I would like that vine to grow, though. Twitchety twitch.
For dinner I had my traditional birthday food of hotdogs, this year on the grill--some years I prefer coneys--and a $2.50 fudge cake from Save-a-Lot. I like those because they're gooey and not all buried in frosting. Also they're $2.50. Also I don't have to make them myself. If I have to make my own birthday dessert, it's not going to be cake, it's going to be pie.
Cake is good and all, but pie is...PIE.
Scrolling back, I guess the theme of this entry is, I am a cheap date. Comparatively speaking. Yard sale treasures. Puppy snuggles. Daisies. Used movies. Frozen drink at the drive thru. Weenies on the grill. Discount cake. All inexpensive.
But memories of dogpee revenge? Priceless.
We found a replacement engine for the Mothmobile, ordered it, and had the Mothmobile flat-bedded to the engine-replacing guy's place. The engine was supposed to ship that night. It never arrived. "We don't have no filing system here, and sometimes things have a way of disappearin."
Uh-huh. Or else somebody's Uncle Earl wanted it. Regardless, welcome back to brick one, Moth family.
T-moth was on vacation all week. He was hoping to have his truck back before his vacation was over. We were all disappointed.
Wednesday I went to the eye surgeon and he cleared me from restrictions and took me off the eye drops. He does want to see me again in two months to make sure my eye pressure has returned to normal; apparently the cataract was causing some glaucoma. I did not know that. I'm very glad I was a huge wuss and freaked out and insisted on having it removed.
When I got home from there, I called and made an appointment at the regular eye doc, who got me in the next day, Thursday. He told me that it had been a very opaque and aggressive cataract, so maybe I wasn't being a wuss after all. Anyhow, I ordered new lenses for the old frames because the insurance won't buy new frames 'til next year.
Friday we did yard sales. The spawn even went with us. The day started out coolish, with intermittent heavy showers. After the third downpour, someone turned the heat on. After that it was plainly nasty out. I found a Battleship game for 50 cents. I'm hoping maybe someone will play by text or IM. Tim also found an old Scrabble set that matches mine (which is missing an A, so...spare parts, yay) and a couple of decorative things, some pink and white ducks for the little bathroom and a gold vase for the living room. A big stuffed elephant with a Horton-y face...I have no idea why on that one. I named him Norton.
Other people may say their house is decorated in Yard Sale, but mine really is.
Before long it was too hot for sales, and we hit this neighborhood full of delusional people who thought all their crap was worth the same as I could get it at the store. So between the heat and the frustration we came home, took a break, and went to pick up the spawn's friend Crystal for a sleepover.
So then yesterday I turned 45. And...I just typed 25. Not that I would be 25 again for love or money. Cobie started the day off by giving me the gift of snuggling, which he never does. Usually after T-moth gets up, Kelly comes and cuddles, and Cobie takes advantage of having the dog bed to himself and sprawls out. But yesterday he came and gave me a major face bath and then snuggled up for about twenty minutes til we all had to go tinkle.
In the late morning, T-moth took me to Lowe's. I got just two tomato plants and one pepper plant, two pots of shasta daisies, and a sweet autumn clematis. Although he was a sinus headache in bloom, O how I miss Mr Clematis that my landlady ripped out of the ground and murdered at the apartment.
Yes, we're insanely late, but we kept having frost warnings right up until we started competing with the surface of the sun for heat indices. Anyhow, these plants all said they could be planted in June.
I also got morning glory seeds, hollyhock seeds--because I am NOT NAMED AFTER AN XMAS PLANT, THANK YOU WORLD--and some other star-shaped thingadoodles I think might climb the deck without pulling it over.
We stopped by the Video Game Outlet, where they had zero video games that appealed to me, but T-moth found a $3 movie called Jane White is Sick & Twisted, which I got only because it had Colin Mochrie on the cover.
On the way home, T-moth bought me a mocha iced capp from Tim Horton's. They were better than the McD's ones, in my opinion. Also...COLD. I had the worst brain freeze ever. I was seriously trying not to whimper. Then Mr Moth said, "My, that hurts," which made me feel better, or at least less wussified.
Generally once brain freeze passes it's gone, but this one was zombie brain freeze because it just kept coming back in waves. I'd think, "That wasn't so bad," and take another drink. O great indifferent cosmos, it was that bad. And not just my head hurt, but my chest hurt too. I thought, "This is how the people in the water felt after the Titanic sank." Then T-moth said, "I think my hypothalamus is frozen." This struck me as the funniest thing ever said in the history of the English language. I laughed til I would have peed, except my urethra was clamped shut from pain.
Eventually the pain abated, so I drank some more. It was really excellent. Totally worth going temporarily blind for.
Then we came home and planted things. It was hideously hot, and the mocha iced capp drinks (and their accompanying agony) quickly became a distant memory. Sweat poured off us while we stood and panted at each other.
So, we moved the poor struggling peony clump around to the front of the house. We put in both 'maters and their cages, which I bought because Cobie sees a tomato stake and thinks, "STICK!" We put in the pepper plant, which Cobie saw and thought, "SNACK!" and bit the top off of. I shoulda bought a third cage, I guess. Then we put in the two volunteer tomato plants, which I don't expect anything out of, but they just don't deserve to die.
Note that where I say "we," I mostly mean "Tim." I was there in a supervisory capacity though.
And then at the very end of the row we put in a rhubarb root, which I bought because my mother and I were reminiscing about rhubarb pie. Little did I know that she had also planted rhubarb...so if any of them live, we will have a lot of rhubarb.
Story: Mom used to have two rhubarb plants. One that Buddy the border collie-shepherd always peed on, and one that he didn't, for reasons known only to Buddy. So we made pies from the un-peed on plants, for obvious reasons.
But my stalker ex-husband used to come over to harrass me, and sometimes he would steal rhubarb and eat it raw right in front of me., with a big coyote grin on his face. And I would grin right back, because he was eating Buddy pee and never knew it.
Maybe Buddy knew it too. Often I considered making him a pie, but I was afraid someone else might eat some of it.
So.
I put most of the seeds out front except the star-flowers, because it was just too miserable out there. We'll see if any of them decide to grow.
I was going to put the clematis where I planted the other clematis that has never shown the promise of becoming anything other than a twig, but apparently someone has been using that spot as a litter box, which probably explains why that vine hasn't flourished. I want to move it, but it involves a cat pee extraction, and I'm not feeling it...not wanting to feel it, if you know what I mean.
I would like that vine to grow, though. Twitchety twitch.
For dinner I had my traditional birthday food of hotdogs, this year on the grill--some years I prefer coneys--and a $2.50 fudge cake from Save-a-Lot. I like those because they're gooey and not all buried in frosting. Also they're $2.50. Also I don't have to make them myself. If I have to make my own birthday dessert, it's not going to be cake, it's going to be pie.
Cake is good and all, but pie is...PIE.
Scrolling back, I guess the theme of this entry is, I am a cheap date. Comparatively speaking. Yard sale treasures. Puppy snuggles. Daisies. Used movies. Frozen drink at the drive thru. Weenies on the grill. Discount cake. All inexpensive.
But memories of dogpee revenge? Priceless.