Then being short, I wondered why. Because I couldn't quite step over the creation.
The boys used skeins of yarn to build a house wide spider web.
I should have given them lessons. they didn't make use of any of the door knobs.
Oh, well.
The next day, they wanted to reuse the yarn.
I left them with The Professor. J-man persuaded him to take a picture.
I'm fairly certain it's not for the faint of heart.
Behold:
spider web = HOURS of play time
I'm fairly certain this ranks right there with this event. Cleaning up was ... interesting to say the least. They had fun. Hours of entertainment.... that is priceless to me.
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.
Shiny
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.
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.
Honestly.
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.
Posts
