Man does my house look messy in pictures. And yes, that is Gypsy's blog on the computer. I was visiting her when my son came in to show me the "Hug". Really the pooch will stay in that position even if you let go of his butt and walk around!
I have a Clean Fridge Obsession. It is almost like an addiction.
Today I had to clean out the fridge. I usually do a nice cleaning with every batch of new groceries, but today was the Big One. The one where you take everything out and become horrified at the gross stuff you had stored in there and you marvel at the fact that no one has died while sifting through the shelves.
The one we have upstairs has been in our posession for 4 years now. Inherited after the FIL death/MIL nursing home move. It has taken me until just this morning to realize that the two bottom shelves on the door are removable! Does anyone know how much easier this has made my life?
Geez!
And to think the directions on how to remove them were RIGHT THERE IN MY FACE!
See?
Oh the joy! The Joy I tell you!
Click here for proper musical accompaniment
A few weeks ago I decided to honor the Polish blood in me. Up until recently I thought I had 1/2 Polish blood, 1/4th Slovak and 1/4th Austrian. The new German blood is a new revelation that Nana told me about just a few weeks ago. She never told us family members because, "Back then it was not important and no one cared about their family heritage like they do now with this new interest in family trees".
Translated: It was not cool in America to admit you got married right before WW2 to a man with German blood. And you don't tell anyone about it until your husband has been dead for 17 years and even then you tell your grandaughter. Not your daughter.
Ok, it does not not matter to me. Just babbling. I decided it would be really cool to make some homemade pierogis. Just like I remembed helping Nana with when I was younger.
Well, let me tell you something. Time most certainly has softened and blurred that memory. Because my arthritis in my hand is throbbing, my back hurts and I don't ever want to see another pierogi again.
Click here for continued proper musical accompaniment. Sorry, I don't know how to add it properly and I am too exhausted to figure it out right now.
I know I did something wrong with that damn dough. It was like trying to roll a bowling ball flat instead of a carefully executed recipe of flour, eggs and water. I did remember how to crimp the edges after the first dozen. And by the fifth dozen, I had doned a bubushka, my boobs had stretched down to my navel and I had a full head of gray hair.
Damn if I did not feel like an old, wizen Polish woman. A woman who knew how to make some kickass pierogis and to hell with the rest of the village. I am the Pierogi Queen.
How the hell did my Polish ancestors live on these things? Or shall I say, how did they survive after making them? All I know is that I wanted to crawl into a hot bubble bath and sip some Chardonnay. A luxury I am sure my ancesters never had. I did manage to feed the twins who said they were really, really good.
But I am not sure if that was the truth or they were just buttering me up so I would give permission for them to go to the Indoor Skatepark of Death. (notour skatepark link, but you get the idea).
The "They" is my family and other realms.
First heart attack in the making:
Seeing a spider crawl across my ceiling over my bed this morning. I of course was sitting on the bed. I mean where else would one be sitting when they spot a spider?
Right. It is always directly overhead. I still remember my BF one day running, or trying to run, out of her bathroom because she spotted a spider. Overhead. While on the loo.
Anyways, my spider was not just A Spider. This was a spider with it's own fertility factory on it's butt. And of course you know this thing was hauling ass across the ceiling. I of course was clad in undies, no bra and one foot in my pantyhose and the other foot on the floor. Sorry for the visual. That was just for the idea of the panic that followed.
Now maybe others react faster. No wait. I know others react faster in these situations. I am a Virgo and I have the strong need to rationalize through the stituation.
First thought is to Killkillkill. Then "NO!" It is a life and I will bring bad Egg Sac Karma upon my household and the next 30 generations of Aithne Family. Then next is to get the vaccum and suck it up. No. That won't work for obvious reasons of the dreaded and much feared Spider Family Retaliation. Back to the kill theory because by now my freakin' visitor has high-tailed it to my curtains. I am now in total freak out mode.
Did I mention it had an egg sac on it's back?
And that is not the thing anyone wants to see crawl into their curtains that lie over their bed. Where they will lay their head and most likely open their mouth and drool a little thus leaving and open doorway for little spiderettes to venture.
I will admit thinking for a moment, that I could jump on the bed and end it's nasty existance in a gory mess and the hell with my disgust of spider guts. But as it will happen, I was semi-nude and you know that means the drapes would be open. I am not exposed to the anyone at my first floor level, but jumping up and down on my bed will expose me to my neighbors who live at a lower altitude than I.
That was out.
I was saved from any spider massacre decisions by the puppy who happened to saunter by me and then sit at my half naked legs.
He had red on his back leg, front paw and his chest.
MY GOD!@(@#*$(# The dog is bleeding to death. First though was the spider somehow had gotten to him. By now I have now finished putting on the damn nylons. After all, this is life and death and I at least need to have some type of clothing on me.
And there was red on the floor. Bright, bloody red marks.
And when I went to remove it, nothing happened and he seemed joyous to be held. Indeed this was some new kind of game his mommy wants to play instead of being in her car on her way to work.
I later surmised the pup got ahold of a red pencil of some type that had a bright and glorious shade of Chinese Red for a coating. Chinese Red and White Bischon make for a splended polka dotted puppy.
That was Heart Attack in the Making Number Two.
Number Three was twofold. The first part with DH (grrrr) calling to complain about something on his job. Like I am in the position or have the time to listen to the same old same old.
The second part came when he called to inform me that I have to cancel his cell phone. Instead of just coming out and telling me why, he had to give me a dramatic story of how it got stolen out of his truck and he has no idea "how they got in".
A brief flash of seeing red, literally. Then anger. After all, it occured to me that all major expenses that should not have happened this year, well, he seems to be at the root of it through carelessness. I was at work and just had no more words. I hung up on him while he was yammering out yet another excuse as to why it is not his fault.
I am now sitting here, locked in the bedroom with the puppy. The twins are in tears. Because yet again, I came home and found the bathroom door open and the pup had an accident, they went to cut the grass without picking up the extension cord (AFTER I CLEARLY TOLD THEM IT WAS THE FIRST THING TO DO WHEN THEY GOT OUT THERE!) and this all of course after yelling. Enough is enough and I will sip my wine and travel the internet.
How much more is one expected to take. How many more messes and situations am I expected to clear up, clean up and sanitize?
A married free spirit. A working mom with 14 year old twin boys, a happy puppy and 2 nutty cats.
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