Rambling

Sorry for the lack of updates.  It's been one of those weeks, and anything meaningful I have to say is way too private for this public medium.  So, with that in mind, I will just ramble a bit.  I do that sometimes.

I was walking to get the mail a couple of evenings ago, and it was kind of sprinkling and grey.  Totally my kind of afternoon, meant for doing nothing and watching the sky change.  I walked across our property and onto the neighbors place, where our mailbox is located.  Our neighbors were kind enough to allow us to place our mailbox on their property so we would not have to cross the highway to get our mail, thereby decreasing our chances of becoming roadkill.  You know how it is…one minute you're ogling the Victoria's Secret catalog, the next you've been run down by the UPS truck.  

It was a Bad Mail Day:  no Netflix, many bills.  I shut the box and turned around to head back to my house, and then I noticed I was being watched.   There were 14 deer in our pasture, watching me.  I thought, damn, I'm glad they aren't Ninja Killer Deer or something, because I had no idea they were there.  So, I said, "hi, deer!"  They started getting nervous, and started cautiously retreating, backing away from the crazy (me) and towards the safety of the trees.  I felt that I needed to reassure them, so I said, "don't worry, I'm not crazy!"  They didn't believe me and left anyway.  And then I noticed my 90-odd year old neighbor, the Man Who Burns Ditches, watching me.  I didn't wave because I was embarassed.  

I'm pretty sure the neigbors think we're a bit off.  We talk to our cats.  We homeschool.  We don't go to church.  We listen to heavy metal when there's work to be done.  We occasionally throw gigantic parties.  We don't give a damn about yardwork, and it shows.  (I think lawns are a silly invention, meant to trap you into eternal servitude.  Our neighbors are the Yardwork Champions of the Universe.)  Our place needs a lot of work, as it was unoccupied for several years prior to our purchasing it, and it is a bit run-down.  We have piles of stuff meant to go to the dump, piles to burn, and then there's the pasture that desperately needs burning, but I'm afraid to burn it because we're so close to other people and I don't want to become the Neighborhood Arsonist.  I guess we are kind of the trashy family on the block, but I like to think that we have our priorities in order.  There are so many fun things to do, and life is short.  That's really the bottom line, isn't it?  Yeah, I thought so, too.

Miscellany

  Happy Birthday, Mom!  

Hope you have a kickass year! 

 

 

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We had a busy and productive weekend.  We hired a book-keeper, which is a good thing, as we're so incredibly confused about everything.  That takes a load off of Adam, who won't have to spend his evenings and mornings trying to make Quickbooks his friend.  Also, we met with a friend of Adam's who will be joining our business soon.  He should begin training next week.  Progress is good.

In other random news, people keep calling our business line and asking for Elvis.  I swear I'm not making this up.   

On the home front:  housework is dangerous.  I managed to sprain two toes while cleaning house the other day, because I am clever like that.   I actually missed a step and wiped out onto our slate floor, which is possibly one of the most unforgiving surfaces to wipe out onto.   I experienced a broad range of emotions, starting with rage, pausing a minute at self-pity, and ending with gratitude that no one actually witnessed my fall, and I didn't have to see their expressions of horror at me sprawled out on the slate, or have to watch their horror turn to mirth and see them turn their faces away and snicker, because that's exactly what I would have done if I was in their shoes.   

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

I’m working on a new blog.  I’m going to experiment with it a bit, and if I decide it will work better for me, I shall post the link forthwith.  Meanwhile, I don’t even want to contemplate what it says about my personality that when my posts don’t format properly, I become completely and utterly enraged, especially after the 5th or 6th edit that won’t update.  Of course, those of you who know me aren’t surprised a bit.  Anyway.  I’m disappointed, because the WordPress format is nifty, but it’s making me crazy when it will update properly one day and then jerk me around the next.  Not cool, and certainly not worth my time.

The Book Keeper Person is supposed to come here this afternoon, and my house is a trainwreck.  That’s why I’m goofing around on the computer…procrastination produces stress, and in turn, stress produces a clean house. That’s just the way we roll around here.  We spent the morning attempting to get all the business files in some semblance of order so the Book Keeper Person will not immediately turn around and walk right back out the door.  Hopefully we won’t embarass ourselves too badly.

My little Crack Monkey

Taylor was killing me with the funny this afternoon. After we left the orthodontist's office, she said she was hungry, so I stopped at a convenience store and got her a snack. I needed to do a little shopping at the organic grocery and grab a coffee, and so Tay stayed in the car to eat. When I got the groceries loaded into the car and hopped in to head home, I noticed that she was really, really chipper. She had consumed an entire bottle of Arizona Mandarin Orange Green Tea in the 15 minutes it took me to snag the groceries.

Me: Dude, you're wired!

Her: THERE'S SUGAR RUNNING THROUGH MY VEINS! CALL ME ELVIS!!

Me: OMG, you're a dork.

Her: DORKS KNOW THAT SUGAR IS OUR MASTER! *giggles like a junkie on a binge*
Then she proceeded to entertain me all the way home from Bayfield. First, she sang. She alternated between her version of Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer, and Defy You by System of a Down, punctuated by maniacal giggling. When she got tired of singing, she treated me to her amazingly accurate imitation of Father Dougal McGuire. Dear God, that was funny. It's amazing the entertainment we got for $1.59. I laughed all the way home. Her last words before we got out of the car were: I LOVE AMERICA! GIVE ME A COOKIE!

Randomness

I am going to take Taylor to get her braces tightened today, which means she’ll be on the Soup and Ibuprophen Diet for the next few days. She will also get to experience the magic of flavored latex gloves again…cherry, grape and something else. Orange? I’m not sure. I’m wavering between intrigued and repulsed. Unfortunately, I can’t help but think about the grown up use for flavored latex…and I’ll just leave that thought right there. What I really wanted to say is that I can’t believe the difference in her teeth in just two months. It’s probably the best $1500 we’ve ever spent.

Margo, there is a Church of Craft website based in Canada, but I don’t know if that would actually affect us. I think it’s be a fun name to use in the future, but I’m not sure how you research that kind of thing, Mrs. Budding Attorney, so I’ll leave that to you. Your email from this morning has me all wound up, and I’m positively vibrating with the thought of a book and website and crafty goodness. *squee* I’m trying to figure out how to write off a trip to Tucson as a business expense, but since it would actually involve business-type things, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult. It’s just the logistics… Eventually life will calm down, and I’ll be able to travel once more. You’ll notice I say “I’ll be able” and not “we’ll be able”, because I don’t know if Adam be free to travel any time in the next 5 years.

I ordered 100 strawberry plants the other day, because I am mentally unstable and prone to rash decisions when it comes to gardening. I was completely swayed by the thought of fresh strawberries, so much so that I lost my fricken’ mind and ordered 100 plants. One hundred plants will multiply, which means I need a huge strawberry bed, and that means work. Lots of work. You know, like I didn’t have anything else to do. I should really learn to ignore my Inner Masochist.

This is what we woke up to yesterday morning. It didn’t last long, but it was lovely while it lasted. I took a photo of Adam outside in his jammies, sweeping off the internet dish, and he was not thrilled. He told me that he had better not find that photo on the internet anywhere. Here I was thinking I was doing the world a favor by showing off the glorious spectacle of those terrific flannel pajamas, but apparently I was wrong.

You know what?  I have noticed that the thrift shop prices have really jumped. They used to want .25 for paperbacks, and now they want a dollar. What is up with that? I’m too cheap to pay a buck for a ratty old paperback. When you buy 57,000 books a year, you have to be frugal, dammit! *sigh* I guess I’ll have to rely on yard sales to bolster my book addiction collection.

Speaking of addictions, my new journals and pens came in. Let me go snap a photo.

There. Aren’t they pretty? Color me happy.

Tuesday update

Tuesdays are the new Friday! Woot! Does that make any sense at all? No, probably not. We changed violin lessons from Friday to Tuesday in order to be able to meet Adam for lunch or coffee in Durango at least one day a week, therefore Tuesday is our new Durango day. I’m hoping Tuesdays will be less chaotic than Fridays. Durango is a damn nuthouse on Friday–no parking, mad traffic, and come this summer there will be touristas everywhere. Tuesday is a better day all the way around.

We hit the thrift stores at the end of last week, but I think I’ll try to hit them again today to see if I can score some of the weekend bounty. Everyone drops stuff on the weekends, so hopefully I’ll be able to find some nifty stuff. The stores were pretty picked-over last time, but Taylor still managed to pick up a dozen books. She has inherited the family affliction: book lust.

Adam is finishing up yesterday’s paintjob today. The weather made life extremely difficult for him because the spring winds have arrived, and he wound up having to move the truck into the dealership, so PEOPLE WERE WATCHING and coming by to talk to him, and you know how hard that is when you’re feeling the pressure. So, he was a ball of stress when he got home. Poor guy. I made him a quart of my patented margaritas* and beef stroganoff, so he was feeling better by the time dinner was over. I don’t think he’s going to tackle big jobs, like painting/bondo-ing a door on the weekdays anymore. It really cuts into his profit margin. He can make more money doing 4-5 small jobs a day. Painting will go much more smoothly when he has his custom tent, but who knows when that will be? I sure don’t. It’s a learning process, knowing what to take on and what to say no to.

*Patented margarita recipe:

1/2 can frozen limeade concentrate

Tequila--the good kind, please, not bottom-shelf el cheapo brand because you don’t want that headache. Add according to your taste.
Triple Sec, or Grand Marnier if you’re feeling rich. Add according to your taste.
1 bottle of Corona.

Squish the frozen limeade around with the tequila and triple sec to get it all incorporated, and then add the Corona and stir. DO NOT USE A BLENDER!! Serve over ice. I sometimes add a little fresh lime juice if I have it, but that’s just because I’m partial to lime.

ETA: I had to bold the breaks in my writing in order to get the damn post to format properly. WTF, WordPress?!

Nervous.

Adam has his first paintjob for a dealership today. He’s nervous, so I’m nervous. He needs to ace this job to establish his reputation with the dealer. I don’t even want to think about what will happen if something goes wrong. Oh, the humanity!

Adam w/ Kirk’s car, where he had to work a dent out, bondo, and paint.

The dent was actually on the hood crease, so I think the finished product is pretty impressive. These are not the best photos–my kingdom for a better camera!

Adam has really earned my admiration recently.  I’ve always respected him, because he’s the kind of person who is easy to respect, but he’s really jumped several notches in my estimation with his crazy/brave/inspired leap into this new business.  He didn’t just go out on a limb here, he went out on a limb and proceeded to jump up and down, fully aware that there is no safety net below.  And now he is making it pay, and getting ready to start training an employee.  Dude, you ROCK.

Pen fetish

I recieved two $10 gift certificates for Amazon.com in my email a couple of days ago. Pennies from heaven! Joy! There’s very little that makes me happier than an Amazon.com g.c. So, what did I buy, you ask? I agonized for hours over what I would buy off of my 12 page wish list. I loaded and unloaded my cart several times. I would get up and leave the computer to clear my mind and try to figure out what I really, really wanted. I’ve been so spend-phobic recently that I was determined to spend as close to $20 with shipping that I could.

I thought about buying 3 or 4 used books. That would have been pretty close to the mark. I could have bought $25 in new books and gotten free shipping, which is a pretty good deal, too. But no. Nope. I bought more pens. Do I need more pens? No. I need more pens like I need a hole in the head. In fact, I tried to get photos of all my pens, but the batteries on my camera died while I was taking photos. I shit you not. I killed the batteries while trying to capture the enormity of my hoard of pens. I embarass myself.
Pens are my Crack. I am giddy with anticipation of my order. When they arrive, I will test every. single. pen. on a fresh piece of paper, possibly in a fresh notebook, because if pens are my Crack, notebooks are my Heroin. Post It notes are Meth, and things like staplers, hole punches, paperclips, and file folders are my Recreational Marijuana. I am an office supply junkie, and there is no rehab for my compulsion. (Heh. I wonder who Google will send here now?) When Adam comes home with some batteries, I will document my addiction for posterity, because I’m a dork like that.

Ordering those pens loosened my purse strings, and I went and ordered some more of my favorite journals. Thank God I haven’t fallen under the spell of the uber-trendy Moleskine (pronounced mole-uh-skeen-uh…say it right!). I can buy 5 of my favorite journals for the price of one and a half Moleskines. Pretty nifty. Now I’m all set to capture all the profound thoughts that roll out of my brain at 3am. (Why is it always 3am? Why can’t it be noon or some time that is actually convenient?)

Today I will clean. I’m concentrating on Spring Cleaning and getting organized and into the new groove has that evolved with the new business. It’s a poor substitute for Spring Gardening, which I’d rather be thinking about–whine, whine, moan, moan, okay I’m done. Oh, gosh, I just thought of a new rationalization for pens and paper, which is all the lists I need to keep track of, and I could color-code them or something insane like that. Maybe I should go to Office Depot tomorrow and make sure they don’t have something cool that I really, really need…

George

This is George. I wanted to call him Lucky, but I was vetoed. He’s a charming little fart.  I can always tell how dirty my floors are by the amount of dirt that shows up on his fur.  He’s my little Filth-O-Meter.