Thursday, September 30, 2010

I don't dust...

When I was a kid the running joke was always, "Don't dust. You'll break it." 

It worked for things in the house or vehicles. The car would break down after it had been cleaned, "Oh, well, you washed the dust away that was holding it together."

We have this rough wooden beam in our living room. It snags dust cloths, fuzzies from the dusters, you name it- the rough wood snags it. Since I'm short, dusting the beam is not usually something I endeavor to do often. 

I'm short. 

There are so many other things closer to my eye level to dust, or clean, or play with. 

Sitting just right on the couch, though, gives me the perfect vantage point to see the dust and webs collecting in places I can't reach. I guess after ten years of living in a place, they're bound to collect. 

Go figure.

So we endeavor to clean "The Beam". And while we've got the ladder, we might as well clean the dust bunnies from the ceiling fan. 

We have no love for the fixtures the builders put in this house when it was built. They are crap. 
That's just the way of it. They are lousy, cheap pieces of hardware. We've had to replace many. 

Why did we think cleaning this ceiling fan would endear it to us??
We didn't.
We just wanted the dust gone.

We cleaned it. 
Put everything away. Started dinner when BAM whap whap whap.

The ceiling fan drops off of it's drop bar and dangles by its cords.
The Professor is bummed. My Brother, Uncle Kickbutt, and his wife come to our rescue. Uncle KB is strong enough to hold the ceiling fan up so the Professor can reattach it. My brother is also 5'9". A good seven inches on me. 

All is well. 

Until the next night. 

See the cords? The down bar is fine. Go figure.
 We turn off the fan and we all make faces. The electrician I call manages to come out that same day. (I think because it was raining.) He wasn't impressed that we had the lights on. my thought was, "Hey it's not sparking."

He was NOT a very friendly repairman. 

He was barely tolerable of the children. 

He was barely tolerable of me.

I was glad he left. Surly he might have been, he was quick with the installation.

We have a new ceiling fan. It's not as bright as the other one, but it's not nearly as ugly.

More importantly??

It's not dangling by its cords. 

Found it!

I found my camera!!!
I'm brain blogging until I can actually get it all typed.
You've been warned.

And a shout out to LynnieLou who found me in the middle of a dry spell of blogging.
She's from Scotland and I'm tickled to meet her.

And hugs and kisses to the rest of you - you know who you are - who love me even if I don't post on a constant basis.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

shampoo solo

I sort of have this problem.
Okay. Not really a PROBLEM, per se.

Maybe it's an issue.
Maybe it's a quirk.

either way - it's about to become your problem, too.
Or not. You could be better at this than I am.

Lovely big bottle - cheap price
I use Tresseme shampoo for my colored hair.
I love the cost and really, its smells pretty good for shampoo.
At least it doesn't smell clinical.

Don't you hate that?
I hate bathroom soaps that smell like .... well....medicine. Or soap.
Seriously. I have my hands up to my face often. Brushing my hair back, rubbing my eyes, pressing the temples against the headache.. See?? See my point??

What was my point?
Oh, yeah.
Smells can be important.

I can understand how this might be just a ComfyDenim issue.

I had a very musically eclectic upbringing.
I had a grandmother taking me to see chamber quartets. I loved it. Don't get me wrong. And the occasional stage production.

My dad was forever listening to the 60's.

My mom was listening to the 50's AND the 60's when she wasn't listening to the Big Band stuff from the 40's. We randomly belt out Roy Orbison songs.

My Grandmother would sing and I'd play the piano to the Big Band music stuff.
All in all, have exposure to all the varied types of music is good.
Just ... some times the results of this upbringing are unexpected.

Like the shampoo.

I look at that name. .... and I sing.


I do.

And now maybe you will, too.

Looking for this song, I had a chuckle. The Beatles sang it, too.
EVERYONE has sung this song..

If I have nothing else to sing about -- my shampoo bottle asks for a solo.
It's big enough. It does the job of cleaning my hair AND protecting my color.
I guess it deserves one.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Age is relative?

This happened tonight....and I had to blog it.
That's right!!

Two blog posts in ONE DAY!! WOW.
I know. I'm impressed, too.

"J-man! Feed Jack." (this is my ploy to keep him from missing the fish that he fed at night. Otherwise the fish was ignored.)

"Where's the cat food?" J-man asked, looking from side to side and finding none.

"Whaddya mean, 'where's the cat food'?" I ask as I wrestly my way out of the very back of the couch to look for myself.
"Where *IS* the cat food?" I asked, looking from side to side over his shoulder.

"Probably," offered The Professor, "in the other room." (Where it's supposed to be, he didn't add.) (Nicely)

I retrieve the cat food and bring it back to find J-man and Jack nose to nose.

"Thank you, Senor." J-man said to me as he took hold of the cat food bag. Then he grins and you can hear it in the air, "I called you 'senor'."

"I heard you." I grin at the back of his head, "But I'm a 'senora' because I'm a mom, a wife, an old married lady."

The Professor grins and remains quiet. (Nicely)

J-man says, "Oh."

G-man frowns at me, but he's grinning, "You're not old, mom."

"I'm not? Then what am I?" I ask with a laugh, heading into the kitchen to get the grocery list.

"You're're only in your thirties." He said.

I had to laugh..
"What happens when I'm in my 40's?" I asked him.

"I wouldn't know."

I laughed.
I wouldn't know either.

Outright Rambling...

I have Mozilla Firefox. I really do enjoy it. It locks up far less than the demon spawn that is Wind*ws  unExpl*rer. (snicker)

Yes. I will tell you exactly how I feel.
Most of the time.
If you ask.
And sometimes if you don't.

On my Firefox, I have this handydandy 'add-on' called "Speed Dial". On my  SpeedDial I have my Blogger blog. I also have Facebook, my Google Reader, Drudge Report (I like to scan the headlines), Photobucket, YouTube,, NaNoWriMo, and Amazon.

What? You never know when you're going to need to look up a word when you're writing or shopping.
What's that?? Links?? Um. .. Only if you really need me to.

So I've been watching SpeedDial show my untended blog front and center every time I turn on the Firefox. So I thought to myself -

I'm a bad blogger friend. I've not been visiting blogs. For that I'm sorry. I"m also sorry that I might leave you a flood of messages, if you have more than one blog entry that I haven't read.

Then I thought - well... I could tell about the ceiling fan fiasco. But now I can't find my camera.

I could tell you about my trip to the ER - but that would embarrass G-man.

I could tell you about Jack Oy, the Porch Cat. I have pictures!! -- but no camera.

I could tell you about the morning I found J-man's fish. Dead. In the corner of his tank.
It was creepy.
I swear he was like one of those things you buy, put in water and watch them grow.
Yeah. We won't talk about that.

I could tell you that Sir Whiskers the Mini-hamster died.
He lived a good life in his castle - biting those who dared pet him.
Actually -- This is kind of funny.
I mean, not that he Died...but Mini-Me, who was very sad that her ball of biting fluff died, asked if she could have another hamster.

I kindly, or tried to be kindly, pointed out that it wouldn't exactly be fair to the new hamster. We can't put him in a ball to run because of Gizmo the hyper active mutt or Bubbles, the hyper active 4th. Those two are quite the pair. And either one can get the lid off the hamster ball.

So in my best managerial tone of voice, I told Mini-Me that we could get another hamster in a few years, when she's responsible enough to care for ALL aspects of the hamster. I'm not opposed to buying food. Hamster chow isn't that expensive, after all. But There's the cleaning of the cage, and tubes and the changing of the water. She wasn't doing all that she could have been doing.

She had a really good day not long after Whisker's demise. I praised her on her efforts and helpfulness.
"So..." she began. My spidey senses were tingling, telling me that I was suddenly on dangerous ground. She continued, "Do you think I'm responsible enough to get another hamster?"

I laughed.

"I really think we should wait until you're older..."

"Like when I'm twelve?"

Since she'll be twelve in October I had to tell her no.

We started school and have managed to Miss every Monday and many Fridays since we began.
Holy Spirit has told me through two people that I REALLY am supposed to be teaching the kids at home...

and I keep asking Him...'Are you REALLY sure?"

Which isn't the real question... Not really. Because really what I'm asking is: Are you CRAZY? I can't handle this!!

He takes my questions with  a laugh...because, well, I'm still here. No lightening strikes.
It's going to get better, I'm sure. It has to.

What I don't like?? The fact that time seems to be accelerating and I'm standing still.

Too bad I can't do a SpeedDial for the school assignments.
Maybe then I'd not be behind in my blogging.


Who am I kidding?
I'd be writing. It's become my addiction ... and most of the time I like it. Then there are the times I don't. Like it that is. Such is life, I suppose.

and that's really why I don't blog. I've got these invisible friends....
and the other day?? You know what I did??
I kidnapped one of them.

Yeah. It was a surprise for all of us.

Too bad I can't take pictures of it.
Oh, yeah.
I can't find my camera.


Thursday, September 9, 2010

A bit of a silly song...

After being surprised by a few unfriendings on Facebook...I find this song especially amusing. I really, really like the guitar work, though.

Friday, September 3, 2010

I've realized something...

I am quite willing to do an 'inner search' of myself. See? I'm a "what you see is what you get" kind of person with myself, too.

Sometimes, though, in those inner searches ... or quests for correction ... I find things that, really, aren't wrong. I am my own worst critic, after all.

However. Sometimes, when I look to see if 'the problem lies with me' the answer I find is yes.
I'm selfish.

And being selfish - I've come to the realization that homeschooling my children requires a level of selflessness that I am, currently, unable to give. And maintain. I might be able to give a day of it...but by the end of the day, I find myself struggling.

So -- while that revelation was poignant...and important... the other revelation was equally so.

I do not like to share the front seat.

Mini-Me is nearly twelve. AND she's passed the height/weight requirements by state law to allow her to ride in the front passenger seat.

In allowing her to do this, I have discovered I don't like sharing.

It's like a bubble of solitude has been burst whenever she's there. I have no time to readjust my thoughts adequately to prepare for the next level of whatever task we're undertaking. Whether it be at the store or at home.

I am unsure what to do about this ...sharing thing. Except to be honest with her. There have been times when I"ve had to be the bad-cop-referee-'no-they're-not-my-favorite'-I-wish-your-daddy-was-here-too-hate-your-sister-from-your-room" kind of mom and I just need time away from .... children type humans. So she'll grump and sit in her normal seat.

Then there are the times I let her sit in the passenger side and just swallow my child-sized-frustrations. (Let's say they are HUGE right now and very difficult to swallow) She likes being 'alone' in the front seat. Even though in a mini-van we're never really alone - but at least she acknowledges there's a separation. She'll talk and talk and talk.

Which makes me realize that she needs and enjoys the one on one time. That makes the frustrations go down easier.

The side-effect of this is, now from the back corner of the mini-van, I'm hearing G-man (who's propensity for whining is normal, so I've been told, but my goodness is it annoying!) whine erm tell me Um.. inquire. (yeah, that's it) why Mini-me gets to sit in the front seat and no one else does (Except the Professor.).

"Cause she can."

I think he gets a secret delight whenever I don't share my front seat sanctuary with her.

Yeah. Homeschooling requires an extra level of selflessness.

I'm working on it.

Maybe by the time they all graduate.